Laws of Attraction

by grayautumnsky13

When Mal murders her husband, she turns to Regina, a defense attorney and former lover for help.

1. Chapter 1

Regina steps into her office and immediately stops, rooted in place as Mal rises up from one of the chairs opposite her desk.

She's wearing a knee-length gray skirt and a wine-colored blouse, and draped over her arm is a smart little jacket that matches her skirt. A smile pulls onto her lips as she turns to face Regina–and for a moment, it's impossible not to get lost in her clear blue eyes.

"Mal," Regina breathes out, a slow smile edging onto her lip. "What a surprise."

"Miss me?" Mal asks almost shyly as she shifts uncomfortably. "It's… been awhile."

"It has," Regina says, nodding as she closes the door and draws in a deep breath. "It's been over a decade."

"Has it?" Mal asks, her voice suddenly shaky. "I hadn't realized. It's funny how time just… gets away from us."

For a moment, Regina doesn't reply. Instead she comes into the office and rounds her desk. It gives her a second to think and second to get over the shock–and when she sits down, she can't help but notice the way Mal's hands are trembling beneath her jacket. She looks up at her and finds her eyes are teary–and though she's smiling she looks absolutely terrified.

"Why are you here, Mal?" Regina asks, as she sits down at behind her desk. "Something tells me this isn't a social call."

"No," Mal says as she sinks back into the chair in front of Regina's desk. "I… I'm here because… I…" Mal's eyes close and she draws in a breath. "I murdered Stefan last week and…" Her eyes open as she exhales, and smiles as tears spill over her eyes. "I need a lawyer."

Regina's eyes widen. "You… murdered him." Mal's jaw again begins to quiver as she nods. "You murdered your husband and now you need a lawyer."

Mal nods. "That's… about the size of it."

Drawing in a breath, Regina leans back in her chair–and folds her arms. "What did he do?"

"What?"

"What did he do?" Regina asks again. "He was always a jackass. He had to have done something to–" She stops. "I'm sure you had a reason, or…"

Mal nods. "It wasn't just one thing," she says in a small voice. "It was… a lot of little things, over a very long period of time."

She can barely make eye-contact as she recounts the events of the previous night. She tells her about how she and Stefan had gone to a charity auction, and how she'd spent the evening doing what she thought he wanted her to do, making small talk with his friends' wives and under bidding on items so that he could look charitable without having to actually pay for anything. But somehow, something had gone awry. He was quiet the whole ride home and as soon as they got into the house, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her up the stairs shoving her hard her into their bedroom–and she described the hard angry way her as he yelled. He told her what a disappointment she was, and what an embarrassment she was to him–and when she didn't know exactly what it was that she'd done, he only grew angrier. He'd reached for her, grabbing her by the hair and pulling back her head as he accused her of flirting with one of the other wives–and while she'd been doing exactly that, she'd lied and denied when she did, he shoved her away. She hit her head on the corner of the nightstand, and when she looked up, she recognized the look in his eye and she knew what was coming.

The week before, she'd been shopping and she had to go to a store she normally didn't frequent–and next to it, was a little pawn shop. She'd used a fake name and she'd purchased a little handgun, and when she got home that night, she tucked into the drawer on her nightstand beneath a few old magazines.

She'd held her breath as she reached behind herself, reaching into the drawer.

"I… I didn't mean to shoot him," Mal says, shaking her head as tears trail down her cheeks. "I just wanted him to stop. I thought I'd scare him, or–" She sucks in a breath as her tears fall more freely. "I just wanted him to stop."

Regina's chest tighten again and she feels her own tears brimming in her eyes. She rises from her desk and pulls a handkerchief from her top draw, and then rounds the desk and sits on the edge. "Then what happened?" She asks, holding out the handkerchief and smiling sadly as Mal takes her and curls her fingers around it. "What happened after you reached for the gun?"

"He laughed," she says as her eyes press closed. "He laughed at me and–" She shakes her head. "Regina, I just wanted him to stop."

"So you shot him."

She nods. "I didn't even aim it. I just squeezed the trigger and then the next thing I knew, he was on the floor."

"Was anyone there?" Mal shakes her head. "Maybe a housekeeper or–"

"No," Mal cuts in. "They don't live at the house with us. They come every morning and leave after dinner." She blinks up at Regina and shrugs. "I assume it was one of the servants who found him and… and called."

"Where did you go, um… after?"

"I… stayed for a little while," Mal says as she looks down at the handkerchief. "I didn't know what to do, so I stayed and then I took a shower and I got dressed and… I went for a drive." When she looks up, her eyes are pleading. "Regina, I don't know what to do. I don't know–"

"Have you been questioned?"

She nods. "The day after it happened."

"And what happened after that."

A little grin tries to tug on to her lips, but it doesn't quite form. "My parents' lawyer swooped in and saved the day." She swallows and looks back to Regina. "I'm not supposed to leave town."

"Did you confess?"

"No," she says. "He wouldn't let me say anything."

"That's good," Regina says, drawing in a breath and slowly exhaling it as she look at Mal–the beautiful and spirited woman she'd loved so much, and it hurts to see her this way, looking so lost and broken. "And… why are you here? Why not stick with your parents' lawyer."

"I don't trust him," she says simply. "And I wanted…I wanted you."

Regina presses her eyes closed and draws in a breath, feeling herself losing the battle against her tears. Despite all the time that's passed, her feeling for her are strong as ever and it feels like no time at all has passed, when, in fact, a lifetime's passed.

Her eyes open and she tries to smile–but it's hard to put on a brave face with Mal looking at her the way that she is–so broken and afraid, helpless and worn down. "Mal, I… I don't understand," she says as she reaches out and takes her hand. "Why did you marry him? Why did–"

Mal looks back down and shrugs her shoulders. "I didn't have a choice. I had–"

"You didn't have to. You had–"

"Options?" Mal asks as her eyes shift back to Regina's. "You and I both know that's not true. You and Robin were… starting your life, and what we had couldn't continue. I'd have been in the way and I could bear to watch the the two of you tire of me."

It hurts to hear her say that–it hurts almost as much as it did when they saw her picture on the front page of the newspaper, announcing her marriage to Stefan. For ten years, she's wondered–for ten years, she's thought about what it'd be like to finally have a chance to ask her why she left, why she never said goodbye and why she vanished from their lives–but it hardly seems to matter now.

"Well, that's debatable, but… that's another conversation for another time."

"Right. I… I suppose you're right," Mal says. "If there is another time."

"Mal…"

"I… I killed my husband, Regina. I could go to prison. I could–"

"Well, that's why you're here, isn't it?" Regina asks as she reaches out and takes Mal's hand. "Because you're

going to go to prison." She grins a little as she squeezes her hand. "I'd never let that happen, and you know it."

"So, you'll help me?"

Regina smiles and nods. "Of course I'll help you." She sighs a bit as she pulls back her hand. "Okay, so… I am going to have my assistant make us some coffee and then… we'll get to work." Her chest tightens at the loss of contact. "Do you still like it with cinnamon and sugar?"

Mal nods, and in spite of everything, a smile tugs onto her lips–and this one shines through her eyes. "You remembered," she says, seeming genuinely surprised. "I can't believe you remembered."

"I remember it all," Regina replies, offering a soft smile and a wink before turning to the door.

She pulls the door closed–and feels a rush of emotion.

Tears flood her eyes and she presses them closed in an effort to stop them from falling, and she smoothes her hands over her skirt, breathing steadily as she tries to compose herself–but no matter matter how hard she tries, she can't seem to stop her tears.

"Are you alright Ms. Mills?" Belle asks, risking up from her desk. "Can I get you–"

Regina looks up and bats her hands over her eyes. "Some coffee," she cuts in, forcing a smile. "And if you can find some, could you put a little cinnamon in one?"

Belle nods. "We have it from when you brought Henry and Roland in last winter. They had it in their cocoa."

"Oh, that's right…"

"Anything else?"

"Cream," she replies, nodding. "A lot of cream. Or milk. Whichever we have." She grins. "Pour it until it starts to make clouds in the coffee."

"Clouds. Got it," Belle says as a grin pulls onto Belle's lips. "Is that all?"

"I need you to start looking up any information you can on Stefan Perrault. If he had even so much as gave someone a bloody nose in a school yard fight, I want to know about it."

Belle nods and Regina watches as she disappears around the corner–and then, drawing in a breath, she goes back into her office. For a moment, she just stands there, watching as Mal fidgets with the button on her sleeve.

"You still do that."

Mal blinks and looks up at her, then her eyes cast down to her wrist. "A nervous habit."

Regina nods as she crosses the office and sits back down beside her–and then, taking a breath, she reaches for her hand, pulling it away from the button and giving it a tight squeeze.

"I'm not going to let you go to prison, Mal. I won't."

"You don't–"

"I do know," Regina cuts in, feigning confidence as she gives her hand another squeeze. "I'm going to get you off and then–" Mal blinks and bites down on her lip and then a little snicker escapes her–and then, a moment later, she's laughing out. Regina's eyes sink closed and she shakes her head, laughing as her cheeks flush. "It's good to hear you laugh," she says once their laughter begins to fade and their hands settle in her lap.

"I've missed you so much, Regina–more than I can even say."

"I've missed you, too."

"And how's Robin? I read in the papers that he's an Assistant District Attorney now."

She nods. "He's doing well–and yes, he actually just started this week. I'm happy for him–this is what he wanted–but I'm going to miss having him around here."

"I'll bet," Mal murmurs. "And… you have children now… two boys, is it?"

"Yes, Henry and Roland," Regina tells her, smiling. "They're at summer camp and I am… trying not to take offense that they haven't written me yet." She laughs softly and shakes her head. "It's only been two weeks, and I'm sure they're having the times of their lives."

Mal nods, but before either of them can say any more, Belle knocks lightly a the door and then enters, carrying a tray–and Mal tries to pull her hand away, but Regina holds it tighter. "Two coffees," Belle announces, as she sets down tray on the little table in front of the couch. "One black and one with sugar, cinnamon, and just enough milk to make clouds."

Regina's eyes slide to Mal, watching as her lips part in surprise as she accepts the coffee.

"And, even though you didn't ask for them, we still had some scones from yesterday afternoon."

"Thank you, Belle."

"Yes," Mal murmurs. "Thank you." They watch her go and wait until the door closes, and Mal looks down at their hands. "You… should have let me pull away."

"No," she says easily, shaking her head. "We're not doing anything wrong. This is perfectly innocent and–" She shrugs. "I don't care."

"Regina…"

"You came here for help," she says, letting her voice rise over Mal's. "So let me help… and not just with the legal end of things. Let me help you." Leaning over she reaches into the cabinet next to the couch, pulling out a tape recorder and setting it down next to their coffee. "Now, I want you to take me through it again. Don't leave anything out. I'll ask you questions, but feel free to elaborate, okay?"

Mal nods and her eyes shift to the recorder. "And… who will hear that tape?"

"Just me," she assures her, squeezing her hand and rubbing her thumb gently over her wrist. "I promise, and… you really should try one of those scones. They're very good."

Smiling gently, Mal nods and reaches for the scone–and then, after a couple of bites, she starts at the beginning of the story, retelling it and answering questions about it as they arise. The questions get deep and personal and by the time Regina reaches across the table to turn off the recorder, they're both in tears–and still holding hands.

"I should be going," Mal says, slowly pulling back her hand. "I've taken up your whole day." Regina blinks as she turns to the clock, realizing that it's nearly three in the afternoon. "I'm sure you had other–"

"No," Regina cuts in. "Nothing that's more important than this."

"That's sweet of you to say–and thank you for–"

"You don't have to thank me," Regina says as a little grin twists onto her lips. "Not until we've won anyway." She takes a breath–in spite of spending the whole day together, she's not quite ready to let her go. "Where are you staying? Do you want–"

"One of my family's hotels. I've got a suite and room service." She shrugs her shoulders. "What more could I ask for?"

"You could stay with us."

"No, I couldn't. I… just couldn't."

Regina nods–she doesn't like it, but she understands. "And you know how to reach me?"

"I have your office number."

"I'd rather you have my home number," she says, moving to her desk and fishing out a scrap of paper and a pen. "Here," she murmurs. "We've got a private number, not a shared one. So, no one will listen in or–" She stops. "Are you sure you won't come home with me? I can make you dinner and–"

"I'm sure," Mal nods, taking a few steps in and taking the phone number–and then, she reaches into her purse and pulls out a business card bearing the logo of her family's hotel chain. "If… something change or–"

"Absolutely," Regina nods. "But nothing's going to change."

"Thank you."

Regina nods and watches as Mal goes–and there's something unsettling about it, but she dismisses it. Rounding her desk she moves back to the couch, putting the coffee cup and the plate scones sat on back on the tray and then, she moves to eject the tape–but instead of doing that she rewinds it, and listens to it again and again, memorizing the details.

Regina blinks as she holds her beer. She doesn't mean to stare, but she can't help it.

She's just so beautiful.

Swallowing hard, she looks around, noting that Robin is otherwise distracted–and she bites down on her lip. She's not sure how he would feel if he saw her blatantly checking out someone else, much less a woman, but she figures that what he doesn't know won't hurt him–a the rest, will be a conversation for another time–and there's nothing wrong with looking, as long as she doesn't touch.

A little grin edges onto her lips as she lets her gaze linger.

Her blonde hair is pulled back into a braid that falls over her shoulders and her lips are full and red. Her blue eyes sparkle and when she laughs, her whole face lights up. She bites down harder on her lip, and once again, her eyes slide back to Robin who's still consumed in conversation. Her eyes shift back to the blonde, taking in the thin white blouse decorate with tiny black polka dots and the tight lime green pedal pushers she's wearing–pedal pushers that hug her hips and thighs that show off her slim physique and leave just enough to the imagination.

She's tall, she realizes, as her eyes travel down her legs, finally stopping at the little black flats she wear.

And then, their eyes meet–and the next thing she knows, she's excusing herself from her conversation and walking toward her.

Regina feels her heartbeat quicken and a little wave of guilt washes over her as her eyes slide to Robin, and she reminds herself there's no harm in talking.

"Hi, I'm Millicent," the blonde says, extending her hand and smiling warmly. "But, everyone calls me Mal."

Regina blinks, and laughs a bit nervously as their hands touch and she feels a spark. "I… I didn't quite expect that."

"For Mal to be a nickname for Millicent?" She grins. "It's not–unless you're my parents. My mother's name is Mildred, but everyone either calls her Millie or Mil, and," she pauses and her eyes roll, "so I became Mal, and I'm really just grateful that they didn't call me Mitsy or Muffy or something equally insufferable."

"Fair enough," Regina says as their hands fall away from each other. "I'm Regina."

"It's nice to meet you." Her eyes narrow. "I haven't seen you around much–"

"Oh, I'm a first-year student, so I was taking–"

"I meant at the parties," Mal cuts in, waving her hand and laughing. "I don't actually go here, I'm just… here for the fun of it."

"Oh… well, like I said, I'm a first year student and law school's proven to be quite overwhelming. It's taken me awhile to find my groove."

"But you survived."

Regina grins. "I did, even if it was just barely."

"Well, here's to that," Mal says, laughing softly as she taps the edge of her cup to Regina's drink. "That's worth drinking–"

"Hey," Robin says, as his arm slides against the small of her back "I'm finally freed. I thought Graham would never…" His voice trails off as he suddenly notices Mal. "Oh, I'm sorry," he says, extending his hand to her. "I'm Robin."

"He's my boyfriend."

"Oh," Mal breathes out. "I thought…" She stops and shakes her head. "It's nice to meet you," she says, shaking Robin's hand. "Are you a first-year student, too?"

They fall into an easy conversation about classes and coursework and professors, and in spite of not going to school there, it's incredible just how much Mal knows about the program. From there they talk about the campus itself–favorite study nooks and the place they like to go when they need a break from the stress. Mal tells them about a little bookstore tucked away just off the campus that has oversized armchairs and a little cat named Dewey–and Regina aww's when Mal confirms he's named for the Dewey Decimal System.

The conversation turns to literature–and Mal and Robin spend the better part of an hour discussing Walt Whitman, Robert Frost and Alfred Lord Tennyson, and other poets who write about nature. Regina sits back and listens, grinning at the way they get on–and when a soft yawn escapes her, she looks to the clock mounted on the wall and realizes the party has dwindled down to just a few.

"I think we're the last of the guests," she murmurs, watching as Jefferson, a third-year law student who'd thrown the party, gathering half-empty cans and throwing away paper plates. "And though they haven't said anything–"

"Oh," Mal breathes out. "I'm sure he'd liked to get on to bed."

"Is it really that late?" Robin blinks, looking to the clock as his brow arches. "I can't believe the way time's gotten away."

"I know," Mal says, a soft grin drawing onto her lips–and for a moment, she just stares at them, her eyes narrowing as if she wants to say something, but not quite sure if she should. "We ought to do this again," she says, nodding decisively. "Over coffee."

Regina feels her cheeks flush and she nods–but it's Robin who agrees. "At Granny's," he decides. "Do you know it?"

"I practically live there," Mal teases. "If you ask her nicely, she'll splash a little kahlua in your coffee."

Regina laughs. "Robin and I have an apartment above her cafe."

"You live up there?" Mal asks, her eyes widen as she looks between them. "I've always won–" She stops and looks past him. "Well, perhaps that's a story for another time. Jefferson's eyeing us."

"Well, it is nearly three…"

Mal shrugs. "Well when you throw a party, you should expect this sort of thing." They all rise from their seats and gather their things, and on their way out, Mal gives a little wave to Jefferson and laughs–and Regina feels her heart flutter as she turns to them as soon as they step out onto the stoop. "What are you two doing tomorrow afternoon?"

"Oh, I…"

"Nothing," Robin says, looking to Regina. "That I'm aware of."

"Now that exams are done, I think we're free until the semester starts."

"Fantastic," she says, shivering a little as the wind picks up. "I'll see the two of you, then–assuming you don't freeze to death."

"Oh," Regina murmurs, rolling her eyes. "I left my coat in the car."

"We're just parked behind the house," Robin tells her. "Can we give you a lift to–"

"Oh, no," she says, shaking her head. "I'm just around the block."

"You're sure. It's cold and–"

"And unlike someone," she says, winking at Regina. "I'm dressed appropriately for the cold."

Biting down on her lip, Regina's eyes roll, but again, her heart flutters as Mal waves and takes a few steps back. "I'll see you two tomorrow, then, at–" She tips her head to the side. "We never set a time."

"How about one?" Robin suggests. "We can have coffee and sandwiches."

Mal nods–and when she smiles, even in the dark, Regina can see her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's a date, then," she calls out before turning her back to them as she hurries toward her car–and then, Robin drapes his coat over her shoulders and takes her by the hand, leading her in the opposite direction.

She's still distracted when she gets home, her thoughts consumed with Mal and the story she told–and every detail seemed to lead to more questions. She asked some, but kept others to herself–there was just so much she still wanted to know. She kept things limited to Stefan and the murder, things she could potentially use to build her defense, and she held back from asking more personal things, realizing those questions should be saved for another time when Mal was feeling less overwhelmed.

And of course, it wasn't lost on her that Mal had only come back into her life because she needed a lawyer–this wasn't personal, and though it was her instinct to latch and hold her close and this time, she'd be sure to never let her go. But she didn't know what Mal wanted or how she felt and to bring it up now would be unfair–and she didn't want to give her the impression that there strings attached to the legal assistance she could give her.

But seeing her again–no matter the reason–had reopened wounds she'd thought healed long ago and made her feel things she'd all but forgotten. And she couldn't help but wonder…

She's snapped back into the present when she hears the latch on the front door, and then footsteps coming near–and her heart beats a little faster, realizing she's going to have to tell him.

When Mal left, it hit him hard. She was the first person that he'd lost–the first person to suddenly disappear from his life–and he wasn't sure how to handle it, and it'd taken him so long to feel normal again, for even the happy moments not to be tarnished by her absence from them.

"Hey you," she breathes out, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. "How was your day?"

"Pretty fantastic, actually," he says, chuckling softly as he loosens his tie and then leans in for a proper kiss. "Gold gave me my first case as an ADA," he tells her, taking a step back as he grins. "And apparently it's a slam dunk."

She grins a little an her eyes roll. "Nothing like the thrill of having a win just handed to you."

"Well, it's just something to get my feet wet," he says as he moves to the oven and bends to see what's inside. "I'm not used to being on this side of the courtroom, you know."

"I'm well aware," she tells him, with a wistful little sigh. "And not just because of the empty office next to mine."

"You're not still mad–"

"I was never mad," she says as he rises back up and leans against the counter. "I was just… surprised. You've never struck me as the prosecuting type." Robin shrugs and it looks like he's going to give her the same defense he's given her time and time again, but she sighs and shakes her head–she's already heard it and they have more important things to talk about it. "So, tell me about this case," she begins, turning to the refrigerator and grabbing a jar of mayonnaise and a bag of vegetables left over from their weekend trip to the Farmers Market. "Then, I'll tell you about my day," she says, drawing in a breath as she hands him the bag of vegetables. "Something tells me you'll need to be sitting down."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing," she murmurs. "Start chopping." He nods as she reaches for a container of leftover chicken. "What are we having tonight, anyway?"

"Chicken salad," she answers as she pulls a measuring cup from the drawer, her thoughts still focused on Mal. "There are rolls in the oven if you want to make it a sandwich or… something."

Robin shrugs. "At least it's not another creamy casserole."

"Don't worry," she murmurs as she looks over at him and a little grin. "I've got something called Raspberry Foam Salad for dessert."

"It's jello, isn't it?"

"It is," she says in a very matter-of-fact tone. "If you wanted to marry Betty Crocker, you should have married someone else."

At that, he rolls his eyes and reaches across the counter to pull a knife from the block, and when he does, he presses a kiss to her cheek. "Never."

"So, the case…" she says, watching as he pulls the vegetables from the bag and lines them up on the cutting board. "Tell me about it."

"Oh, right," he murmurs as he reaches first for the stalks of celery. "Well, apparently, last week some crazy rich lady shot her husband in the chest."

Regina's eyes widen as she looks to him. "What?"

"I haven't looked through the notes just yet, but according to Gold, she's the only suspect, and according to the neighbors, they got into the quite the scuffle the night before, and according to his brother, she was a shameless flirt and had been cheating for years. The real kicker is the week before, she bought a gun." He chuckles softly and shrugs. "She didn't even use a false–"

"Robin, no," she cuts in, her voice piquing with panic as her heart beats faster. "You can't take that case."

His brow creases as he chops the celery. "Why not? It's an easy–" He pauses and a little grin edges onto his lips and his eyes glitter with realization and excitement. "Are you representing this woman?"

Swallowing hard, she nods. "I am."

"This might be fun, you and me being on op–"

"It's Mal."

His smile fades instantly and the knife in his hand falls to the cutting board. "What?"

"Mal," she says again. "She…" She takes a breath, suddenly realizing that she can't share the whole story with him, that it'd be putting him in an uncomfortable situation–and possibly putting Mal in a more dangerous one. "She was accused of murdering Stefan."

"Oh, god…" He lets out a long breath and turns, leaning back against the counter. "How do you know?"

"When I got to work this morning, she was there."

His eyes widen a little. "You… saw her?"

Regina nods. "She… needed a lawyer, obviously and–"

"And she went to you."

"Yeah," she says, nodding meekly. "Robin, you… you can't take this case. You can't be the one to prosecute her." His jaw tightens and his head falls back–and again, she feels her heart beating faster. "Robin, you realize that, right. You realize that you can't–"

"I already accepted it."

"Then un-accept it."

He blinks. "Regina…"

"Robin, this is Mal we're talking about."

"I know that," he says quietly as his eyes press closed. "But I can't just walk into Gold's office and say…" He turns his head and looks at her, his eyes wide and incredulous. "What would I even say, Regina?"

Her jaw tightens and her eyes narrow–and she can hardly believe that he's questioning this. "You tell him that you reviewed the file and you can't take the case. It's a conflict of interest."

"A conflict of interest…"

"Yes, given your history with her–"

"My history," he cuts in, scoffing as he shakes his head. "You want me to walk into my new boss's office and tell him that I'm sorry, but I can't take the very first case he's assigned to me because the woman my wife and I used to fuck in college–"

"Excuse me?" She cuts in, her jaw tightening as she looks to him with wide eyes. "The woman we used to fuck?"

Robin grimaces. "I didn't mean–"

"But that's what you said."

"Regina," he sighs. "You know that I–"

"Do I?" She asks, her voice rising louder than before. "Because your first instinct was to describe her as a woman you and I used to fuck." She shakes her head and her jaw tightens again. "You and I both know she was a hell of a lot more than that."

"Of course she–" He stops and draws in a breath. "I didn't mean it like that. I didn't mean–"

"But it's what you said," she says again. "And that's telling."

"I loved her as much as you did and–"

"Then how can you even consider taking this case?" She shakes her head and she feels her eyes filling with tears, as she thinks of Mal sitting beside her in her office, looking so scared as she described what was obviously the culmination of years of abuse–and it made her heart ache. "How could you even consider being the person who sends her to prison, especially after… everything."

"Regina," he says, calmer this time as he release a breath. "I haven't had time to even process–"

"You need time to process this?" She asks, her brows arching. "Robin, this is Mal we're talking about, not… some random person we used to know. She loved you and you loved her, and now you need to process whether or not you can prosecute her? Whether or not you could be the person to potentially send her to prison for something you damn well know was–" She stops, her eyes sinking shut momentarily as she collects her thoughts, not wanting to say to much. "There's another side to that for you? Something you have to consider?"

He doesn't respond, and she can tell that this is hard for him. Just by looking at him, she can tell that he's reeling and that his mind is spinning with memories.

Getting over Mal wasn't something that ever happened for either of them, and the only way he'd been able to move on was by shutting down a little piece of himself–a part of his heart that was separated from the rest and kept locked away, just for her. He didn't talk about her, and when he reminisced about the long years they'd spent in that tiny apartment during law school, she was often absent from the stories–but she was there, she was always there.

But she was too angry to really consider that, to stand there and talk through this–because it hurt too much and she was afraid of what she might say, of what she might reveal.

"Look," she murmurs, drawing in and releasing a breath. "I have a lot of work to do. I only came home to eat and… and suddenly I'm not very hungry, so I'm going to go back to my office and…"

"Regina, what are you going to–"

"I don't owe you any more of an explanation," she says simply as she pulls the apron away from her waist. "Don't wait up. I'll be late."

He sighs as she tosses the apron away and pushes out of the kitchen, and when she looks back at him as she gathers her things, she can tell that he's lost in thoughts, and she can tell that he's thinking of Mal–for the first time in years, he's thinking of her and remembering her, and she hopes that by the time she gets home, he's remembered enough to bring him to his senses.

He's nervous.

He shouldn't be nervous.

He hasn't been nervous about meeting a girl for coffee since he met Regina for a cup of coffee at the start of exam week during their junior year of undergrad–and that was because she was Regina, and by the time they'd sat down together over steaming cups of coffee, he was already convinced that she was the girl he wanted to marry.

But, he shouldn't be nervous about this–after all, it wasn't a date. It was just coffee with a new friend–coffee with his fiancee and their new friend, and he wasn't even sure he could call Mal that, after only spending one evening in her company.

They'd met the night before at a party and by the night, he was feeling smitten–and then, he was feeling guilty.

The three of them had settled on one of the couches at Jefferson's and talked for hours. Regina was curled into his side with her feet tucked under herself and Mal was on the opposite side, bright eyed and curious, and most of the reason the conversation kept going. She asked them the sorts of questions that led to long answers and she told them her own stories, making her own life seem so fascinating that it only led to more questions, catching them in a cycle–and by the end of the night, it seemed they'd known her for all their lives.

It was funny the way they just sort of fit together, how easy it was to be in their company–and it wasn't lost on him that the last time he'd felt this way, it'd been with Regina.

"Are you about ready?" Regina asks, smoothing her hands over her skirt and checking to ensure the pin in her hair was secure. "It'd be embarrassing if we were late, consider we live right upstairs and she's coming from–" Regina stops and her head cocks. "Where did she say she was from?"

"I… don't think she did," he says slowly, not wanting to admit he remembered every detail of their conversation with Mal and she most certainly didn't mention it. And then a smile twists onto his lips as Regina looks to the mirror, examping her makeup. "Come on," he says, reaching for her hand. "You look beautiful, and you're right–it would be embarrassing for us to be late."

Regina laughs and lets him pull her away from the mirror, and together they head down the stairs–and perched at one of the high-top tables is Mal, her long fingers curled around a porcelain mug as she stares out the window and the sunlight shines onto her. And for a moment, he can't peel his eyes away–she's just too stunning.

"Since Mal's already ordered," Robin says, clearing his throat as he looks to Regina. "Why don't you go and join her, and I'll order us a couple of cups."

She nods and leaves him at the counter and when Mal turns to face her, her smile is bright and seems to radiate warmth–and then, Regina's cheeks flush a bit and she bites down on her slip as she slides onto a chair across from her, and for an all too brief moment, it looks like she's flirting.

Granny comes up at takes his order and as she pours their coffee, his eyes slide to Regina and he watches as she laughs at something Mal's said–and he realize that it doesn't look like she's flirting, she is flirting, and for some reason, the thought of that makes him smile.

"I was just telling Regina," Mal says as he joins them. "I've been trying to figure out who stole the apartment above this pace away from me for ages now."

"Oh?" He asks, taking a quick sip of his coffee. "You were interested in it?"

"I was," she says. "I wanted it as a studio, and a place to stay when I'm either too tired or too drunk to drive myself home." A smile curls onto her lips. "But the two of you beat me to it."

"Well, if you ever need to crash somewhere, our couch is pretty comfortable."

Regina nods. "Do you paint?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you wanted it for a studio."

"Oh," Mal murmurs. "No, I don't paint. I am a photographer," she tells him, and then she laughs shyly. "Well, an amateur one, at least."

Regina leans forward, placing her elbows onto the table as her hands cup around her coffee. "What do you take pictures of?" she asks, as Robin eyes her–and grins.

"All sorts of things," she answers with a shrug. "Scenery is my favorite though–trees, mountains, lakes, that sort of thing." She bites down at her lip. "Not that I ever do much with the pictures, but it keeps me entertained."

"What do you do with them?" Regina wants to know. "I'm sure you have tons."

"Tons is an understatement," Mal says. "But I don't really do much with them, other than hoard them, that is."

Regina blinks and takes a sip of her coffee–and there's something that sad that settles in her eyes.

"Did you ever go to school for it? I'm sure there are tons of programs that–"

"No," she cuts in, looking to him and laughing as her smile fades. "Girls like me don't go to school. We get married." It's only then that he realizes the ring on her finger–and he can't quite describe it, but he feels a sort of disappointment at its presence. "I'm an only child and to my father's great disappointment, I'm a girl, and he needs someone to pass on the family business to."

"And it can't be you? Robin asks. "I'm sure–"

"No," she cuts in, again offering him that sad smile. "He'd never allow that, and the whole business has been all but promised to his associates son."

"And your fiancé," Regina realizes.

"Yes."

"Are you… I mean… do you…" Regina stops and her eyes sink closed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Nevermind. I can't seem to push out the words and it's probably too personal of a question, anyway." Her cheeks flush deeper as she takes a long sip of her coffee. "Please forget this happened."

Mal laughs out and nods, leaning forward and peering into the cups of coffee. "Only if you let me buy the next cup for both of you," she says, plucking a menu from it's place at the side of the table. "And maybe even lunch," she says, looking between them. "Or have you already eaten?"

They both shake their heads and she points out a couple of options, and they all settle on fried egg sandwiches and a plate of fries for the three of them to share. And as they wait for their order, they fall into a more comfortable conversation–a conversation that results from a series of questions about their pasts.

Mal asks them how they met and Regina tells her about a Medieval history class they took in undergraduate, and how they bonded over thumb screws and quartering and the Spanish Inquisition. Mal laughs, at that and her eyes brighten as she tells them about a book she read about a couple called Abelard and Heloise. Mal smiles a bit her eyes turn to Regina and she tells her she reminds her of Heloise–a bright and modern woman far ahead of her time who refused to conform. It's meant as a compliment and Regina takes it that way–and the conversation turns a bit more serious as Regina talks about what it's like to be the only woman in her cohort. Then, just as their food is arriving, Mal's eyes slide to Robin and says that like Heloise, Regina has a good man at her side, offering her support while not getting in her way–and he feels his own cheeks warming as they both grin at him.

She eats slowly, he notices, and almost intentionally so, pausing frequently and asking all sorts of questions, ranging from deeply personal to silly. And they answer all of them, and he's surprised how easy to is for Regina to open up when usually she's so guarded–but then, he thinks, Mal makes it easy.

When they've finished eating she order them all another round of coffee and they continue to talk–and he and Mal strike up a conversation about their favorite films. They like the same kind of movies and fall into an easy conversation about The Maltese Falcon and Double Indemnity, and the Stranger on the Third Floor–and he can't help but notice the way Regina eyes him as he gets caught up in Mal's assessment of This Gun For Hire.

"But you know what I really loved?" Mal asks, her eyes sliding from him to Regina. "And I think you might agree."

"Oh?"

"To Have and Have Not."

"Ah," Robin murmurs. "A Bogart fan?"

Mal blinks and bites down on her lip as she looks between them. "Oh, um… I prefer his other half, actually."

"I do like Lauren Bacall," Regina says her eyes momentarily sliding to him as a little grin edges onto his lips. This is something he and Regina had discussed quite extensively–she, after all, was the catalyst in Regina telling him that she was also attracted to women and she was the reason Robin knew they attracted to the same types of women–and she was the source of several shared fantasies between them. "I… quite enjoy her voice," he admits, clearing her throat as her cheeks flush and her eyes momentarily slide to him–and it doesn't escape Mal's notice.

"Her voice just…" Mal murmurs in a low voice as Regina laughs out and her cheeks flush deeper as Mal bites down on her lip. "I'm not sure I've heard someone so…"

"Yeah," Regina says shyly as chuckles escapes Robin and again, he thinks back to that first conversation he and Regina had after seeing that particular movie and how actresses' low and seductive voice did things to her. "I know."

"Sorry," Mal says, here eyes sliding back to Robin. "I didn't meant to make things… weird."

"You didn't," he says easily. "Not at all."

Mal grins and his breath catching as she reaches across the table and grabs his hand, giving it a tight squeeze–and then offers Regina a quick wink. "This was fun, but I have to go." She takes a breath and rolls her eyes. "My family has a diner thing and my fiance is in town for the next days, so…" She scrunches her shoulders and her smile tightens. "I probably should have gone a while ago, but this was fun."

"It was…"

"We should do it again."

"You know," Mal says, looking between them as a coy little grin curls onto her lips. "I don't want to impose, but I'd love to see the apartment the two of you beat me to." She laughs and shrugs. "Dinner or something."

"We could do dinner," Robin says, looking to Reigna with a shrug. "I don't mean to brag but my chicken parm is pretty fantastic."

Regina's eyes roll. "It is, actually, and… I can make garlic toast that's not half bad."

Mal's eyes light up as she looks between them. "I'll bring the salad and a bottle of wine. It'll be fun."

"Oh," Regina murmurs as she looks between them. "So I'm really just in charge of… toast."

Robin laughs as he folds his arm around shoulders tugging her close and presses a kiss to her temple. "It's garlic toast." He laughs again as her eyes roll and she shakes her head–and a soft smile edges onto Mal's lips as she watches them. "When are you free? We don't have much going on in the next few weeks."

"Well," she begins. "My fiance is only in for a couple of days, and my mother's having a charity auction on–" Robin blinks and his eyes slide to Regina, watching as her brow arches. "You two… really don't know who I am." She laughs. "I wondered why you were acting so normal." He and Regina exchange glances, shaking their heads as they look back at her. "Millicent von Drachen… as in the German Hotel chain… my father owns a string of luxury resorts and a handful of hotels along the eastern seaboard?"

"I… haven't even heard of the hotels," Regina murmurs. "I'm sor–"

"No," Mal cuts in. "I like that you haven't." She smiles again and this time, there's something shy about it. "I'm not used to people wanting to be my friend without… well… wondering what that friendship can get them."

"Oh…"

"No, we…"

"I know," she cuts in, grinning again. "So, how about this?" She asks, reaching into her purse and pulling out a pen. "I'll give you my number and you can double check and make sure you don't have something hiding on your calendars, then one of you can call me and we'll set a date." Her lip catches as she looks around the table for a scrap of paper, but aside from a couple of used napkins, there's nothing–and then, her grin turns coy again. She reaches for Regina's hand and opens her palm, pressing the pen to her skin as she writes her phone number. He swallows hard as he watches Regina's shoulders tense as Mal looks up at her, still grinning coyly as she leans in a little closer and blows lightly on the ink–and then, she looks to him as her drags her index finger over the ink to be sure that it's dried. "There," she murmurs as she pulls back. "You can write it down when you go upstairs."

"I will."

"And you promise you'll call?"

"Of course."

"Good," she decides, grabbing her purse as she rises from the table. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Yeah," he says, swallowing hard, his thoughts still swirling around the image of Mal blowing on Regina's palm. "We are, too."

She offers them a little wave and they watch as she she leaves, getting into a ragtop red convertible and driving off–leaving them both to grapple with what just happened.

"Was she flirting with… both of us?"

"I think so," Regina says, laughing a little. "But, I think she's just… flirty. Some people are like that."

He shrugs and stands up, offering Regina his hand as he pulls her up and folds his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as they start toward to stairs–and a little pang of guilt stabs at his core, as he thinks of Mal.

She'd sat at her desk for nearly ten minutes, staring down at the stacks of nearly arranged files that Belle placed on her desk before leaving for the day. In the span of an afternoon, she'd already produced hours of reading material. Each file had an index card paper clipped to it with a little note summarizing what Regina would find inside the actual files.

She'd skimmed over them–and most weren't terrible exciting or helpful, but it was just the start, and she knew that Belle's research had only just begun. She skims over report cards from the prestigious all-boys school and a few newspaper clippings of various events he and Mal attended, complete with guest lists and descriptions of Stefan's involvement. There are a few that look perfectly mundane, but one jumps out at her–and she can't help but noticed Mal's forced smile and puffy eyes, or the way he grips too tightly at her waist.

Then, she picks up the last file, and her curiosity is piqued at the description Belle wrote on the index card because the information inside is not about Stefan Perrault, but on his brother, Leopold.

And suddenly, her heartbeat quickens, as her eyes skim over the details of at least a dozen police reports, all of which have two common themes–the victim was a woman who'd somehow "gone against" the family and none of the cases had ever been prosecuted, they'd simply been swept under the rug, likely after some sort of monetary settlement from the Perraults.

She selects the first one and reads through it too quickly to be useful.

But she gets the gist of the story of a woman who'd reported the Perrault brothers skimming proceeds from a charity benefit they'd organized–a woman who, according to the police report and the cleaning woman who'd found her early the next morning–she'd been beaten unconscious.

And then she thinks of Mal, all alone in a suite at one of her family's hotels uptown–completely accessible to the very-much-alive Leopold Perrault.

She takes a breath and reaches for the phone on her desk, punching the number of the card Mal gave her. A hotel operator answers and she gives her Mal's name, tapping nervously at her desk as the line rings… and rings and rings.

She's not even sure if the phone's receiver is set back into its cradle before she's gathering up the files and shoving them into her bag. It's ridiculous, she thinks, to be so worried–after all, Mal's survived a week of this unscathed and for all she knows, Leopold Perrault isn't even a threat to her.

But she can't help it; she just needs to see her–see her and make sure that she's okay.

She speeds across town and no one stops her as she turns to the elevator, and the attendant punches the top floor without question. She draws in a breath as the doors close behind her and she steps up to the suite, knocking lightly once and then harder again as her heartbeat picks up–and then, she breathes out a sigh of relief as the door cracks open and Mal smiles in surprise.

"Regina, I…"

"You just… answer the door?" She asks. "You don't ask or–" Mal laughs softly and shakes her head as Regina pushes into the room. "Anyone could have been standing there. No one asked me why I was here or why I was coming up to your suite and–"

The ringing phone interrupts her, and Regina watches as Mal's jaw tightens and her fingers tremble slightly as she flattens them against her nightgown.

"Are you… going to answer that?" She asks, remembering how she'd called just a few minutes ago. "Someone might–"

"It's been like that for days."

"What?"

"It just keeps ringing."

Regina blinks. "Have you answered?"

Mal nods. "No one ever says anything, but I can hear him breathing."

"Him?"

She shrugs. "It sounds like a man."

"Leo?"

"Maybe…" Finally, it stops and Mal releases a breath. "So, um… why are you here?"

Regina smiles. "I was worried about you and I… I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine," Mal says in a completely convincing voice. "When the phone isn't ringing, that is." Mal tries to laugh, but it gets caught in her throat–and Regina's chest tightens. She's not fine; she's terrified. "You don't need–"

"Stop," Regina sighs as she drops her bag onto the chair by the dresser. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily." She kicks off her shoes and takes her by the hand, leading her over to the bed and tugging her down next to her as she sits on the edge. "Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Neither have I," Regina murmurs, reaching for the phone–and unable to ignore the way she tenses when Regina lifts the receiver. "How about some room service?"

Mal nods. "That'd… be nice."

Regina nods and dials, listens to the person on the other end of the line list the day's options. She grins as Mal's brow arches when she orders them lobster tails, a pesto linguine and the vegetable of the day–and then Mal laughs out when she adds two slices of tiramisu and a bottle of wine. She laughs too as she hangs up, feeling a slight pang of guilt at the thought of Robin sitting in their kitchen alone a eating a cold chicken salad recipe she got off the back of the mayonnaise jar and his jello mold dessert.

Regina sets down the phone, leaving the receiver off the cradle and lays back against the pillows, stretching out her legs behind Mal, and watches as a curious grin edges onto her lips.

"You… seem to be settling in."

Regina shrugs. "Maybe I am."

"Does Robin know you're here?"

Again, she shrugs–and her shoulders square, tighten a bit as she thinks of their argument. "He knows that I'm working on your case. That's all he needs to know."

"Oh," Mal breathes out. "Is that why you're–"

"No," Regina cuts in. "And that's not what we have to talk about."

Mal nods. "It's funny, there hasn't been a day that's passed that I haven't wanted to talk to you–you and Robin–and I'd go through my days, collecting stories to tell you both, storing them away in case I ever had the chance, and now, you're sitting right in front of me, and I haven't a thing to say."

"How about we keep things light, then? We don't have to talk about the ca–"

"Robin's the prosecuting attorney, isn't it?"

Regina blinks. "How did you know that?"

"Just a guess," she admits, "Something about the way you responded to the way I asked about him."

"Oh…"

"Regina, I don't want to drive a wedge between the two of you."

"You're not," she insists, reaching out and taking hold of her of her hand. "We got into an argument, and I just need a little time to cool down and he needs a little time to realize that I'm right." A grin edges onto Mal's lips and she shakes her head. "Robin and I will be fine."

"But you fought about me?"

"No," she says easily. "We fought about…. the same thing we've been fighting about for a year now."

Mal's head tips to the side as she turns toward her. "That's not like the two of you. At least, it wasn't."

"It's still not," Regina sighs. "But him taking that ADA position has never sat well with me."

"Why did he take it?"

Regina sighs and her eyes roll. "Something about justice… or avenging the wronged… or something like that."

A little grin edges onto Mal's lips. "But it was always your dream to be a part of a firm together."

"And we had that for awhile," she shrugs. "I didn't realize he stopped wanting it… until he told me about the ADA position." A little grin edges onto her lips as she reaches out and squeezes Mal's hand. "Though, I suppose it would be sort of fun to wipe the floor with him in court, and that's exactly what I intend to do."

Mal nods, taking a breath as her fingers curl around Regina's hand. "I just don't want it to put too much of a strain on the two of you. I couldn't bear it if–"

"Mal," Regina cuts in. "Robin and I will be fine. We're both stressed out and adjusting to something new, and… we're going to be just fine."

"Good," Mal says, letting out a shaky breath. "That's good."

Mal flinches as a knock comes at the door, and a second later, her cheeks flush when a young man's voice calls out that their room service has arrived. Regina gets up and smiles, padding across the room and opening the door, letting the man push in the cart. Regina tips him and he leaves, and she pushes the cart over to the bed. There's a little dinette at the far corner of the suite and a little living area, but neither of those spaces sound nearly as appealing–and neither would allow them to cuddle up together the way the bed would–and she so desperately wants to do that, to cuddle up beside Mal and hold her until she believes that she really is alright.

She takes off her jacket and untucked her blouse, rolling her shoulders as she lifts the lids from their plates and grins. "Do you remember that night we spent here?" She asks as she reaches for the wine cork. "I still think about that salmon, sometimes."

"I still think of all of it," Mal admits, looking away sheepishly. "I remember the salmon and the wine, and I remember the candles and the rose petals and–" She laughs. "And I remember thinking the two of you were going to accuse me of reading too many trashy novels."

"We didn't, though."

"No," she says, shaking her head. "You both thought it was sweet and romantic."

"Because it was."

She laughs a little and shakes her head. "And you should have heard all the explaining I had to do when my father got a bill that clearly indicated that there were three of us in here all weekend."

Regina laughs. "Well, you won't have to do any explaining about this evening," she tells her. "You're having dinner with your lawyer. That's perfectly innocent."

"Except that you're my lawyer because I murdered my husband," Mal says flatly. "That's not so innocent."

Regina feels her chest tighten, but she smiles nonetheless. "But it's explainable," she says, as a grin curls onto her lips. "And you can tell him that your lawyer hasn't had a meal that didn't consist primarily of mayonnaise or Campbell's soup in… years."

Mal grins and nods as Regina pours the wine. "I see you're still quite the culinary expert."

"Robin's not bad, but…" She sighs. "He's been busy and our children don't particularly care for the food he makes." She shrugs. "It's not smothered in… cheese or creamed soup."

Mal laughs as Regina sits back on the bed, pulling pillow into her lap and setting her plate on top of it. "You know, there's a table and–"

"I know," Regina says, grinning as she pats the empty space beside her. "But that doesn't quite meet my needs."

Mal's brow arches. "I don't know if–"

"I don't mean those needs," Regina murmurs. "I meant it when I said this evening would be perfectly innocent." She watches as Mal settles beside her and pulls her own pillow into her lap to help balance her plate–and then, Regina slides closer until their shoulders touch. "And I can't quite comfort you as well in a hard chair with a table between us."

"Oh," Mal grins, looking down at their touching arms. "I see."

"And, not to be that mom, but as I soon as I'm done with my dinner I'm going to pull out the picture book from my purse and make you look at pictures of my kids because they are fucking adorable and could make anyone smile." She nods. "Really. They're that cute."

Mal laughs out and brightens a little–and Regina feels her heart flutter at the first genuine smile she's seen from her all day.

"Henry's missing like three teeth and has the sweetest eyes, and Roland has this wildly curly hair and the cutest dimples and–" She laughs. "And I'm getting ahead of myself," she says. "I'll let the pictures speak for themsel–"

"No," Mal cut in. "I want to hear about them."

At that, Regina brightens and she launches into a story about how they came to the decision to let them go off to summer camp–or rather, how Robin and the boys ganged up on her to both convince her and override her opinions on it. Mal laughs and seems to ask a hundred questions that leads to story after story, and by the time dinner and desert is finished, Regina's made her way through her picture book–and by the time they've finished off the wine, Mal's head is on her shoulder and her eyes are closed, but smile her smile is still there.

"Keep talking," Mal says, her voice groggy. "Please, keep talking."

Regina laughs a little as she rubs her hand over her arm. "I've only just gotten started," she tells her as she launches into yet another story, talking until Mal is asleep and her own eyes are heavy with sleep.

She's circled the block at least four times–and still, it's not nearly close enough to seven o'clock.

It occurred to her that she could just go into Granny's and have a cup of coffee, but she didn't want to seem like she was trying too hard or coming on too strongly because she liked–she really liked them.

When she'd first spotted Regina at the party, she'd been staring at her–and she could have sworn she was checking her out. But then Robin had come over and she'd introduced him as her boyfriend, and it'd taken everything in her not to show her disappointment.

But then, they'd got to talking and by the end of the evening her head was swimming–and she found herself thinking things that she could barely admit to herself, let alone the two of them.

She hadn't made it a secret that she found them attractive–her with those deep brown eyes and him with those dimples–and she flirted openly the both. Neither seemed to mind it–in fact, they seemed to find it charming–and there was no harm in a little flirting.

And she really did like them.

They talked to her like she was a person, and that was something of a rarity. To most, she was a ditzy blonde and a party girl, she didn't have opinions and she couldn't hold a serious conversation and she barely had interests outside of attending parties and sipping cocktails. There were some who pretended well–her parents and some of her friends–and the were others whose motives for wanting her around had more to do with what her friendship could bring them than her actual friendship.

But they were different.

They asked her questions and waited for her to respond, they listened to her responses and didn't miss or correct them–and just naturally assumed that she'd read things and could handle a university art program, and they didn't cast her off as just another socialite who'd never known more than a few ballroom dances and how to pass off judgement as a seemed to find her interesting and maybe even a little mysterious, and there was a connection between them that she couldn't quite yet figure out–but she most certainly wanted to try.

And she found them captivating.

Regina was so smart–bright and witty–and she admired her independent streak. It wasn't common to be a young woman in law school, much less a young woman at an ivy league school on a scholarship–and when she spoke of it, she made it all sound effortless, like she didn't have to work twice as hard as anyone else for half the credit. And Robin was so sweet. He was open-minded and curious, the easy going sort–and from what she could see, not at all the jealous type. When they spoke, he had a way of making her feel important, a way of validating her even when he didn't agree. She liked that he didn't speak down to her and held her opinion as high as his own–and when he smiled, he seemed so genuine.

Finally, she pulls into the little lot behind Granny's and grabs the large wooden salad bowl and grocery bag from the passenger side. The wine is already in her bag and so is a deck of cards–and she figured that five minutes either way wouldn't matter much, and that she could blame the lack of traffic on her earliness.

She enters the cafe and waves to Granny and the old woman's brow arches when she turns down a cup of coffee, informing her she has a dinner date upstairs–and then, once she's at the top of the stairs, she feels her stomach flutter.

She wants this to go well; she wants them to want to be her friends.

Taking a breath, she knocks–and before she can knock a second time, Robin opens it. He smiles brightly as he reaches for the bag, and Regina greets her with an equally bright smile.

"I'm sorry I'm a little early," she says, feigning regret. "I just–"

"Oh, it's fine," Regina calls as she steps out from the little kitchen. "My garlic toast has been prepped for nearly an hour." She folds her arms and looks to Robin. "I'm now allowed to do anything else" Mal grins as Robin's eyes roll, and Regina comes into the living room, taking the bowl from her. "You can keep me company," she decides.

"She has a history of… burning things," he says as Regina scoffs. "And, considering we have company tonight, I thought it might be nice for dinner to be edible."

"I'm sure it's not that bad," Mal says, looking between them–their banter is amusing. Regina grins at her, then looks to Robin who chuckles softly and shakes his head. "Maybe you can help me with the salad?"

"Perfect, I will."

Robin's hand slips across her back and he draws her in, pecking softly at her lips. "You can't burn that."

She scoffs again and playfully pushes him away–and then she reaches for her hand, tugging her into the kitchen. It's too small for three people to get around without bumping into each other, but they manage–and it even adds to the fun of it. She and Regina make a caesar salad and she whispers to Regina that she stole a bottle of dressing from the kitchen of one of her parents' hotels–and that earns a giggle that makes her heart flutter and her cheeks warm. They assemble the caprese salad sticks as Robin pulls the chicken parmigiana from the oven–and Regina leaves her side to pop the garlic toast into the oven.

She sets the timer and grabs the a stack of plates and silverware as Robin transfers the chicken from the baking dish to a serving platter and follows on her heels–and then she takes in the salads.

"You should feel honored," he tells her. "Normally we'd eat straight from the baking dish in front on the coffee table or if we're feeling fancy, we'd pull out the paper plates."

She laughs softly and smiles as Regina's eyes roll. "I hope you didn't go to any trouble."

"Not at all," Regina insist, swatting gently at Robin's arm. "And he didn't mean to imply that."

"I truly didn't mean it that way," he says, suddenly looking serious. "I just meant we don't get a lot of company."

"Really?" She asks, finding it hard to believe. "You two seem so…"

"Uppity," Regina says. "Or at least that's what the rumor mill says."

Mal's eyes widen–they're anything but.

"Most of our cohort thinks it's awfully big of me to allow my fiance to pursue a law degree."

Regina nods. "The first day of class, someone commented that it was nice that tagged along to take notes for my boyfriend."

"No," Mal scoffs, her eyes widening as her jaw drops. "They wouldn't have."

"Oh, but they did," Robin sighs. "We didn't get off on the best foot here."

"I don't think it was the two of you who–"

Her voice halts and Robin and Regina stop, and the three of them look to the kitchen–and then Regina mutters a low son of a bitch beneath her breath breath and darts toward the kitchen. Robin chuckles, shaking his head as he looks to her, but before he can say anything, Regina appears from the kitchen with her bottom lip pouted out and plate of burned toast in her hands.

"Ohh, and you even set a timer," Mal says as Regina sighs–and then a little snicker escapes Robin, and a moment later, they're all laughing.

She grabs the bottle of wine from her bag and they sit down to eat, and enjoy the meal–burned garlic toast, and all.

She's surprised at how easily they fall into a conversation about Italy–Regina has family she's never met there and Robin's always wanted to go–to see Rome and the Vatican City, to float in a gondola through Venice and visit the Ancient ruins of Pompeii–and Regina confesses that in another life, they'd consider it as a honeymoon spot.

Mal nods and tells them about the summers she spent there as a teenager–and when she makes a comment about how sad it is to see what's happened in Italy in the most recent years, they nod and listen.

The conversation turns to politics and war. Robin tells her about why he isn't serving–how he received a special deferment given to men like him, men whose mothers were widows and men who were only sons–but still, he confesses, he feel guilty for not going. Regina counters his guilt, saying it'd gut his mother and it'd gut her, that she didn't care about duty or obligation.

It's more serious than she anticipated, but that doesn't mean it's bad and she enjoys it more than she thought she would. Normally in these sorts of conversations, her voice was ignored, her opinions not valued, and she worried too much about what others might think of her. But with them it's so different, and as the night goes on she finds herself getting more comfortable, she finds herself opening up and discovering the side of herself that she never really knew existed– of course she always had her opinions, but she kept them to herself– and there's something quite fraying about that.

Eventually though the conversation dies down, and Robin reaches for the bottle of wine. you tops off their glasses and chuckles softly, and she famous disappointment that the wine is gone telling them she hoped his last couple of games. At that, their interest perks, and she tells and she hoped they could play a couple games of cards–that is, if wasn't too late and she wasn't overstaying her welcome.

And she can't help but smile when they both dismiss the notion.

Regina grabs another bottle of wine, making a joke about it not being quite as fancy but promises it'll have the same effect and they all settle around the coffee table. They play a few rounds of gin rummy–and this time they keep the conversation light.

They finish off the bottle and switch to spades, playing a few hands before Regina suggests another bottle. It occurs to her that she should say no, that she should sober up for the drive home, but before she can say anything Regina's leaning over her and filling her glass. For a moment, she watches her–the way her hair fall over her face, the way she giggles to herself as she tops off the glass and the way her shirt hitches up in the back, revealing a strip of smooth skin. She takes a breath and she can smell her apple scented lip balm–and for an all too brief moment, she considers turning and catching her lips between hers, and she considers how good she'd taste.

But she doesn't. She can't.

Her cheeks flush though as Regina pulls back, and from the corner of her eye she can see that Robin noticed her staring just a bit too long–and to her surprise he's grinning and something about that sends tingles down her spine.

They play couple more games and drink a couple more glasses–and then, they switch to a few hands of Go Fish, all taking it far too seriously.

Her head is spinning when Regina finally yawns and tosses down her cards, telling them both that she's too tired to play anymore. Robin nods in agreement, and she can't help but feel a little sad that what's been such a perfect evening is coming to an end.

"Ooh," she murmurs as she looks to the clock. "It's nearly three. I should be going."

"You aren't going anywhere," Robin says. "You're too drunk."

"Yeah," Regina nods, slowly trying to get up. "We've got a pull out sofa bed." She blinks and steadies herself and then looks to Mal. "It's really comfortable," she insists. "It was a gift from my father. It's where he thinks I sleep."

A grin curls onto her lips. "Something tells me no one's ever slept on that thing."

"I did once," Regina says, a bit indignantly as she places her hands on her hips. "Robin had a cold and was too gross and annoying to sleep with."

Mal laughs as Robin's brow furrows and he pouts for a moment. "I've already stayed too long."

"Nonsense!" Robin insists. "We've loved having you."

"I can just snag some coffee from–"

"No," Regina says. "I think we've settled it. You're spending the night."

"But I–"

"You can borrow a nightgown."

Mal's brow creases. "How did you know I was going to say that?"

Regina just laughs and pushes past them and disappears into the bedroom–and for a moment, she just watches the way Robin gazes in the direction of the bedroom. There's something about the way he looks at Regina that she finds so attractive–and then when he turns back to the couch, tossing the pillows to the floor and pushing the coffee table out of the way, she can't help but watch his arms as he pulls the bed out. He smiles warmly at her as he smooths the sheet, she smiles back, feeling her chest flutter. His eyes are bright, even if a little glossy, and his dimples sink into his cheeks in a way that's so damn adorable–and she wonders what it'd be like to let him fold those arms around her and hold her against this chest and–

She stops.

She can't do this.

She can't let herself ruin this–so, she smiles and says thank you.

A moment later joins them again and with her, she brings a blanket and pillow and the promised nightgown. Again Mal thanks her, and she thinks of try to back out again, but there isn't even a little part of her that actually wants to leave.

"So, I suppose this is good night," Robin says as his arm slides around Regina's waist.

"Yeah," Mal. "And I really appreciate you letting me stay."

Regina nods. "So, goodnight, then…"

"Good night," she says, offering one last smile as she watches them turn toward their bedroom, watching as Robin hugs Regina into his side and her head falls to his shoulder, and watching the way he presses a kiss to her hair as they turn into their room–and all she can thinks of is what a beautiful couple they make.

There's a dull aching in her temples and a tension in her neck and shoulders she just can't shake, and she can't wait to have that first cup of coffee–and a couple of aspirin.

She didn't sleep well the night before, if she slept at all–but when Mal woke up and smiled shyly at her, batting her blue eyes groggily as she realized Regina had stayed and held her through the night, any discomfort she felt that morning seemed completely worthwhile.

The night before it'd been so easy to get caught up in the nostalgia of being close to her again–and she desperately wanted to make up for lost time.

But she wasn't sure where they stood–and, it'd been a little awkward as they'd said their goodbyes.

By the time she reached the elevator, she found herself having to remind herself that goodbye wasn't really goodbye, that she'd see her again in a matter of hours, that she wasn't walking out of her life–but she also had to wonder how long that would last.

She'd gone home and taken a quick shower and changed into fresh clothes, and then she made her way to the office and her thoughts shifted from Mal to Stefan and how she could get her out of this…

She was barely through the door when she heard Robin's voice and it was only then that she realized he wasn't at home when she'd arrived–and then she felt a slight pang of guilt at the realization that she'd never called to let him know that she wasn't at her office and she wouldn't be home.

Robin smiles a bit awkwardly and he nurses a cup of coffee as she steps toward him, her jaw tensing and her shoulders tightening as he lifts a second cup of coffee as what looks like a peace offering.

"You didn't come home last night," he says as she takes the cup. "I thought you might have fallen asleep here, but…"

"No," she says in a small voice, not really knowing what to say. "I didn't stay here for very long, actually."

"Oh…"

For a moment, no one says anything, but the tension between them is nearly palpable, and it feels like they're gearing up for a fight–a fight that would be better had in a more private setting and without the audience of Regina's assistant.

"And, I do believe that's my cue," Belle murmurs as she slips between them. "I wanted to grab some… carbon paper or… something."

Regina draws in a breath, her eyes pressing closed as Belle rounds the corner into the little supply room–and she knows the inevitable conversation she and Robin are about to have will take longer than it'll take Belle to grab a box of carbon paper. "Let's talk in my office," she tells him, letting her eyes meet his for a brief moment before she looks away and steps past him, reminding herself that she hasn't really done anything wrong–aside from not call him the night before and the guilt resting heavily in the pit of her stomach is unwarranted.

"Something you don't want Belle to hear… or maybe to know about?" He asks as soon as the door is shut. "Something you'd–"

"Stop," she cuts in, her eyes narrowing as she turns to face him. "Don't do that. Don't make this into something it's not."

"I don't know what it is," he says, shrugs. "You didn't call."

"Are you… jealous?"

"I was worried, Regina," he says, his tone filled with an accusation he hasn't yet voiced. "We got into a fight and then you didn't come home."

Her head tips to the side–and though she feels guilty, she's also doubtful. "Robin, you thought I fell asleep at my desk. You didn't even realize that I–"

"You were with Mal," he cuts in, his jaw tightening. "You spent the night with her."

She blinks, her jaw tightening with indignation. "I was, and… I did."

"Did you sleep with her?" He asks in a voice that's low and controlled–the sort of voice that's just a little too smug and condescending for his character. "Did you–"

"Are you asking me if I cheated on you?"

"I'm asking if you slept with her."

She nods–not in confirmation but in annoyance. Gritting her teeth, she steps further into the office and closer to him as her eyes narrow–she's not sure what he's asking, and she's not entirely sure what she is and isn't allowed to do, what requires permission and what is just understood. Years ago when Mal was a steady figure in their lives, they'd agreed that she was different. There weren't a lot of rules they put in place, but there were rules–and never had any of them seemed jealous. That'd been the beautiful thing about their little arrangement–everyone was happy and everyone got what they needed. From the start, it was apparent that what they had with Mal wasn't going to be a fling. It wasn't meaningless, and their relationships with her and with each other were all rooted in mutual love and rest, there was trust between them–and always, there'd been honesty.

At first, when they were first trying to figure out how a relationship like theirs would work, the lines had been a little blurry, but they'd quickly settled into a routine and Mal was just a part of their lives, a part of the relationship. It wasn't something they thought about–in same way they didn't think about being together. They'd fallen in love with her–and she with them–and it'd happened before any of them admitted it. And though they'd put rules in place, as long as it was some combination of the three of them, everything was fine.

It didn't bother her when she came home from the library to find Robin and Mal together in bed–sometimes, she'd join them and other times she wouldn't–and he didn't flinch when she and Mal got swept up in a moment without him, he just let them have it and let them enjoy one another, knowing that there would be time for the three of them later. Likewise, Mal never seemed to feel left out when the two of them made time for each other–in fact, she expected it. As unconventional as it all was, it worked for them and it hadn't been her decision to end it–but then, it hadn't been his, either.

"Is it really cheating if it's Mal?"

Robin swallows and his eyes sink closed–and she can't quite read him. "Is that your answer?"

"Is that what we were doing all those years?" She asks as heat prickles at the back of her neck and she takes another step in. "Were we cheating on each other whenever we were with her?"

"No," he sighs. "That's… different."

"Different," she repeats, scoffing as her eyes roll. "How is it different? We all agreed a long time ago that–"

"Damn it, Regina, it just is," he cuts in, his eyes wide and his jaw tight–and again, guilt stabs at her core when she notices how hurt he looks. "That was a long time ago and–"

"I didn't sleep with her, alright?" She sighs and takes a step in. "I didn't even kiss her. I wouldn't just do that."

"But you spent the night with her."

"Yeah," she murmurs. "I spent the night with her because…" She draws in a breath. "She needed me."

For a few minutes a silence falls between them, and again, she finds herself unable to read him. He's staring at her in a way that makes her uncomfortable. His eyes aren't hard and they're no longer accusatory–but there's also not the empathy or understanding that's usually there, even when they fight, and she's not quite sure that he believes her or trusts her–and that hurts. He seems lost in his head–far away and distant–

"Robin, I'm… I'm sorry," she says. "You're right. I should have called."

"Why didn't you?"

She shrugs. She doesn't have an answer. She can't say that it didn't occur to her because it had, and she can't say that she was too angry with him and needed to cool down because that wasn't true either. So, she says nothing–all she can do is shake her head and shrug.

"So, you… you spent the night together."

"Nothing happened," she tells him, her voice soft and sincere as regret stabs at her core. "I wouldn't cheat on you, Robin. Not even with her."

"I believe you," he says, sighing as he takes a sip of his seemingly forgotten coffee. "If you say that nothing happened, then nothing happened." She watches as he draws in a breath. "I'm sorry that I suggested otherwise."

"I am, too," she tells him. "I'm sorry that I didn't call and that you were worried. I just… I hated the way we left things between us and then I got caught up in Mal and the case and I–" She stops, pressing her lips closed as she traces her finger along the lid of her coffee cup and she realizes that she has to be careful about what she says, that no matter what, they're on opposite sides of this. "The point is… I'm sorry."

He nods, drawing in a breath as he takes another sip of his coffee. "So, um… how is she?"

"She's…" Her voice trails off at him and she knows that he's not asking as the prosecuting attorney of her case, but as someone who once loved her. "She's pretending that she's okay, but she's not, and seeing her like that was…" She looks up at him, softening as she shrugs her shoulders. "It was hard."

"I… can only imagine," he murmurs as his head falls forward and he rubs his fingers at his brow. "Is it just… um… because of what happened or–"

"I don't think so," she says, reaching for his hand and tugging him over to the couch near the window. "One of the things that always sticks out in my memory about her was how flirty she was… how she'd laugh and how she'd touch us and how it was just a part of her personality. It was just… part of who she was." Robin nods, smiling a little sadly and obviously remember as they sit together and Regina sets her coffee on the table and finally lets her back slip down from her shoulder. "That was… gone," she tells him. "I tried to hold her hand just to comfort her and she flinched and pulled away and…"

"Well, I'm sure she's scared."

Regina nods. "I just couldn't leave her like that."

Robin nods and sighs, again taking a long sip of his coffee. "No, I wouldn't have been able to either."

"I didn't really even expect to say the night," she admits. "I just wanted to check on her, but when I got there… I couldn't leave." Robin looks back to her and his eyes are soft and full of concern–and finally, she sees the empathy in him what she'd been hoping to see all along. "Her hands were trembling and her eyes were teary, and the phone kept ringing and–"

"What?"

"She and I both assumed it was Leopold Perr–"

"Stefan's brother?" Regina nods and Robin's jaw tightens–and again, a little grin tugs at the corner of her mouth when he seems defensive. "He was always… an aggressive asshole."

"Like his brother."

"Yeah," she murmurs. "And I can't imagine he's too pleased with Mal right now."

"No," he sighs as his eyes pressed closed. "He's not."

Her brows arch and he looks to her–and neither of them say anything, both realizing their treading a fine line.

"Did you… go into your office yet?" She asks cautiously, remembering the evening before that he said he hadn't even looked at the file Gold gave him, yet now, it seemed like he had information. "I'm just–"

"Not this morning," he tells her. "But last night, after I ate dinner."

She nods–and again, silence fall between them as they both grapple with the line neither should cross.

"So, um… I assume you two just… talked about her case last night?"

She shakes her head. "That's why I went there–or part of why I did–but she didn't want to talk about it."

"Oh…"

"We talked about you," she says, letting a little grin edge its way onto lips. "And I told her about the boys."

At that, he grins. "She was always good with kids."

Regina nods and a little laugh escapes her. "Did you really eat what I made for dinner last night?"

He blinks. "You ordered room service, didn't you? Food that wasn't made of mayonnaise and gelatin."

Nodding, she bites down on her lip. "Well, Mal hadn't eaten and…" She tries to play it off like a joke, wanting to keep the mood light and stay away from the things they shouldn't be talking about, but she can't. "She's so thin." His face falls and he blinks at her, and she can see the concern settling in his eyes. "I didn't realize it when she came into the office yesterday afternoon, but when she answered the door, she was wearing this thin little nightgown and it just kind of hung on her." She draws in a breath, thinking about the way Mal had felt against her as she slept–how frail she felt and how when they'd awoken in the morning, she couldn't help but notice how visible the bones in her back were. "It's, um… it's pretty clear that she hasn't been taking care of herself, and… I don't think she has been for a long time."

He lets out a shallow breath and nods. "I'm glad you stayed with her."

"I just couldn't leave her," she admits. "So I ordered us some room service and I took the phone receiver off of the cradle and… we just talked and laid together until she fell asleep."

"Are you going back tonight?"

"I… want to," she says quietly. "I don't think she should be alone right now, but I don't know if…"

"I'm not jealous," he cuts in. "Not of Mal, and especially now right now." Her offers her a guilty little smile and shrugs his shoulders. "I never was, I just…"

"It's been a lot."

"In a very short amount of time."

"It has been," she nods, reaching across him and taking his hand. "You know, I still haven't quite adjusted to you not being here. Sometimes, I'll hear something on the radio and I'll go across the hall to tell you, or I'll go and pick up a doughnut and bring one back for you." She grins and shrugs. "Belle's doesn't complain about the doughnuts, but I think it bugs her when when I start yelling into an empty room."

He grins and turns her hand over in his and pushes his fingers down between hers. "I can't believe this is my first case."

"Did you look at that file?"

He nods. "After I made a chicken salad sandwich, I went back back to my office and reviewed the file… and…" He sighs and his head falls back. "I don't know how I'm supposed to do this."

"Then don't."

"Regina…"

"I'm serious."

"You know Gold's reputation. You know he's just going to–"

She bristles and feels her jaw tighten. "Robin, it's obviously a conflict of interest. You can't change that I'm your–"

He nods. "And last night, that's what I decided to do," he tells her shrugging his shoulders. "I started going through the file and I realized you were right and there are plenty of reasons I shouldn't take this case."

"So, you're dropping it?"

"No."

She blinks. "What? You just said…"

"I know," he says, sucking in a breath as he takes a sip of his coffee. "That's actually why I'm here." Her brow arches. "I… reviewed what Gold has so far–and really, it's not much more than what the police gathered together, but… um…"

"I can't believe you're going to do this," she says, pulling her hand away from his. "This is Mal we're talking about not some–"

"Just listen," he cuts in. "Maybe I am the prosecutor who should be prosecuting this case."

'That's–" She stops and her brows arch. "Robin, what are you saying?"

He shrugs. "I don't know, actually. I just know that when I going through the file and Leopold is… already trying to make it seem like Mal's…" He stops and draws in a breath. "I probably shouldn't…"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "You shouldn't because what it sounds like you're implying is unethical, at best." Her eyes widen as his eyes meet hers–and he looks so conflicted. "Robin, it sounds like you're saying you'll intentionally lose."

"There's not much of a case against–"

"Robin…"

"Regina, listen," he cuts in, again reaching for her hand. "You are brilliant. You're a phenomenal lawyer, and the prospect of you wiping the floor with me is pretty high." She can't help but grin at that, and he sighs. "And from what I saw, we don't have much of a case."

"Robin, you shouldn't–"

"Say that the police had a list of suspects that was a mile long? That even after it became clear that Mal was the one who shot him, no one who'd ever worked for them would say a bad thing about her? Or that the only person who who seemed to think this was in-character was Stefan's sleazy brother."

"She didn't mention–" Her eyes sink closed. "What did Leopold say about her? If it's in the police records, it's probably already in my bag." Swallowing hard, she looks at him. "He probably wants her burned at the stake."

"Lobotomized."

"What?"

"He… said she should have been lobotomized years ago."

Her eyes sink closed as he goes onto explain numerous occasions when Leopold claimed that Mal embarrassed Stafan by flirting with other women. He cites ones particular story about a woman named Rose–a woman Leopold claims Mal publicly kissed–and how rumors about them quickly spread. It'd been humiliating for him and she'd done it simply to make him look bad–and he lamented that the legal recourse available to his brother had been limited only a few years before, and joked that he'd had to take matters into his own hands. And then, he went on to tell a story about a woman who cold and calculated and had slowly eaten away at his brother dignity until finally the only thing she had left to take was his life.

It was overly dramatic and nauseating–and it was the sort of thing most other men in Robin's position would latch onto because the only hope he had of winning was to exploit that one little detail of Mal's personality.

"It's a dead lead," Robin says simply. "It doesn't mean anything."

"So, you won't pursue it."

He swallows hard and shrugs his shoulder as their eyes meet. "I don't see the connection."

"Robin, a jury would fixate on something–"

"Not if I don't argue it or present evidence for–"

"But, that's–"

"There isn't a connection between her being attracted to women and her shooting Stefan–or, at least not one that should help my case."

"Gold won't be impressed if you don't go for the low-hanging fruit. He'll realize that–"

"Let me worry about Gold," he tells her simply with a shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, like I said, no is going to question you kicking my ass across the courtroom." A little grin edges onto his lips. "You mentioned that Gold has a reputation… well… so do you." Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her forehead. "This is going to work."

"And if Gold fires you?"

He shrugs. "I'll come back here."

"And if you get disbarred?"

He rolls his eyes. "That's extreme, but I'll figure something out." And then he smiles sadly as their eyes meet. "I feel like I owe this to her, Regina. When I was reading those reports, all I could think about was that we didn't fight for her. We just let her walk away and marry that bastard."

"Me, too."

"She's worth any risk." Regina nods–she is. "And I'm sorry about what I said last night. I didn't mean–"

"I know," she cuts in. "I think we were both a little caught off guard."

"Yeah, it did."

He takes a breath. "Regina, I… I want…"

"To see her?"

He nods. "I need to."

"I… told her that I was going to check on her this afternoon. I wanted to take her to lunch or… or at least order room service," she says, taking a breath. "You should come. I think she'd like to see you too."

"You think so?"

Regina nods. "I was… pretty annoyed with you last night," she tells him. "She defended you… like she always does."

Laughing softly to himself, he shakes his head. "Not always."

Her eyes narrow and she turns to him, and a little smile curls onto her lips. "You know, you and I have always had our fights. We get annoyed with each other and we say stupid, hurtful things, but neither of us ever got mad at her."

"No," he murmurs. "She's too–"

"Yeah," Regina nods and laughs softly to herself. "I agree."

"I don't think I should come to visit Mal with you," he says. "You should go and have lunch with her and… then bring her home."

"Bring her home," she repeats. "You want me to…"

"I think she should stay with us," he tells her. "I'll make dinner for the three of us and it'll be like old times."

"Will it?"

"Maybe," he says with a shrug. "But if she's with us she'll be safer and–"

"You don't think she's safe?"

Robin's jaw tightens and suddenly, he seems so serious. "Leopold made some threats, and while I'd like to think they were empty, he does have a violent past, and… I think we'd both sleep better at night if she were with us."

"With us, as in…"

Again, he shrugs. "I don't know. I don't really know what that means, but do know that she shouldn't be alone."

Leaning in, he kisses her cheek and tells her he has to go–and she nods and her stomach tightens as she thinks about Mal, alone in her hotel room–and then she thinks about how nice it'd be to have her with the again, and she finds herself wondering if it could ever been like it was, if they could all ever be as happy as they were.

Over the course of the last two months, dinners with Mal have become something of a routine–in fact, doing just about everything with Mal has become something of a routine.

It started off as a once-a-week dinner and game night, and then it turned into a few nights a week, and now it was any night that Mal didn't have other plans–which most weeks, was every night. They had their game nights and they listened to radio programs; they went to parties together and daytime outings. She went with them to the library with them, thumbing through her favorite poetry and art books or losing herself in a novel while they browsed through the law and history sections, and sometimes she'd surprise them and spend an afternoon reading Nietzsche then switching over to the trashiest romance novel she could find.

She gladly ran errands with them and somehow, with her, even the most mundane tasks, like grocery shopping, seemed exciting.

It was fun to watch her peruse the aisles, tossing things into their cart that they would never have thought to buy. She introduced them to sushi and Russian caviar, and there was a fondue pot that now lived in their kitchen. She brought over Ethiopian coffee, they ate things like moussaka and spanakopita, and expensive French chocolates and wine–and they introduced her to things like corndogs from street carts, shoestring fries from a cheap 24-hour diner, and fried spam and eggs for breakfast.

Everything with Mal felt like an adventure. Even simple things, like hiking through the winding trails of the nearby park–something Regina always adamantly refused to do–or the spa days the girls would have while he listened to the Dodgers game on the radio, felt exciting. She was exciting and alluring, and there was something so easy and comfortable about being near her.

And whenever it was time for her to leave, they both felt a little sad–and when she was gone, it felt like something was missing.

"I'm not sure I've ever eaten a parsnip," Regina says as she pulls one from the canvas grocery bag. "They're just like… potatoes, right? Starchy and… bland?"

Robin nods as he looks up from the cutting board, smiling proudly at his cheesecloth bundle of spices and chipped up vegetables. "Yeah," he tells her as he lifts the top covering the pot of rump roast and broth. "Kind of, anyway."

He grins as the scent wafts through the small kitchen and a grin pulls onto Regina's face when it reaches her. "Oh my god," she murmurs as she looks to him. "That smells amazing."

His brow arches. "You doubt my culinary expertise?"

"Considering you ate Spam straight out of the can yesterday, yeah, I do," she says as a coy smile edges onto her lips. "But I don't doubt Mal's, and this looks like a Mal recipe."

He watches as she picks up the card–watching the way she smiles down at Mal's writing on the card, watching the way her fingers trace the edge and watching the way her thoughts shift from recipe card to Mal.

They haven't talked about it, but he knows that she's attracted to Mal. She hasn't tried to hide it–she hasn't tried to pretend not to let her eyes linger on Mal or focus in on her full lips, she hasn't tried not to flirt and she hasn't tried to hide affectionate moments. But then, neither has he. They've hidden behind the flirtiness of Mal's personality–it's just how she is, they'd decided–but though they didn't hide their attraction to her, they'd shied away from admitting it to one another, and they'd certainly shied away from admitting it to Mal–their friendship with her simply meant too much to them to ruin.

But he was starting to wonder if that were actually true–if admitting their feelings would mean the end of their friendship. He'd been watching her interaction with her friends closely, and she was different with the two of them than she was with her other friends and acquaintances. She was flirty and outgoing, but she kept them at a distance, often acting more aloof and carefree than she actually was. It was act, he realized, a way to self-preserve–people couldn't hurt her if she didn't let them get too close.

She allowed him and Regina to get close, though–and there were times when it seemed she was just as attracted to them as they were to her.

At first he thought it was all in his head, that he was projecting his own feelings, but as they spent an increasing amount of time with her, that seemed to be less and less the case–and more and more she was starting to feel like a part of their relationship rather than just a friend.

And he didn't mind it; in fact, he enjoyed it.

"What gives you that impression?" He asks, clearing his throat as he returns to cover pot. "What makes you think that it's Mal's recipe and not mine?" He grins as Regina blinks up at him. "Beside the fact that it's clearly written in her handwriting."

She laughs softly and looks down at the card. "The card says Pot-au-Feu. You'd just call it beef stew, and would probably have ten less ingredients, and if this were your recipe, you wouldn't have have been stealing spices from Granny."

"Stealing is a strong word."

Her brow arches. "Just because you left a couple of quarters on her counter and a note, doesn't mean you didn't steal them."

He grins–that's true enough–and then, he draws in a breath. "Regina, can I… ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Please, don't take this the wrong way or… think I'm upset or…"

"Well, now you're worrying me," she cuts in, chewing at her lip.

"You have feelings for her, don't you?"

Her eyes widen and she looks up at him. "What?"

"You like Mal."

"Of course, I do," she says as her shoulders tense and he watches as she grows flustered–and then adorably tries to hide it. "She's my friend. She's… my best friend, actually."

He nods and takes a few steps toward her as little grin edges onto his lips. "I think you like her as more than a friend," he says, taking her hand. "I think you're attracted to her and I think… you… might even be falling in love with her. And if you want to explore that, I won't–"

Her eyes widen and tears begin to well as her jaw trembles. "Robin, I… I love you."

"I know you do," he says, smiling as he reaches out to caress her cheek. "And I love you. I just… I think you might love Mal, too. I think you might be falling in love with Mal."

"I…I'm sorry," she murmurs in a barely audible voice. "I don't know why I–"

"I think I might be falling for her, too." Regina's eyes widen–and he laughs softly and shakes his head–this is easier than he thought it'd be to admit and he's encouraged when doesn't see even the slightest amount of hurt in her eyes. "No, I… I know that I am."

"Wow," she breathes out, smiling awkwardly as she swallows hard.

"Yeah…"

"We can't… I mean…" Regina stops and looks up at him. "I don't want to lose her, but I… I don't want…"

"You won't lose me," he cuts in as he pulls her into a hug. "You'll never lose me."

"I thought I'd get over it," she whispers. "I thought it was just… a crush." Blinking up at his she shrugs her shoulders. "I've always been attracted to other women, but I've… never actually… met someone who I…" Her cheek flush as she bites down on her lip. "It's kind of…"

"New and exciting?" He asks as her voice trails off as he rubs his hand over her back. I think so, too."

She laughs softly and momentarily, relief washes over her–then, just as quickly, her expression turns serious. "She can't know about this."

He draws in a breath, thinking of Mal and the way she acts around them–the flirtiness and the soft touches, the way her eyes linger when she thinks they aren't looking and the way she flushes when she realizes she's been caught. "You… you don't think she might be feeling the same way?"

Her brows and her eyes are wide, and he watches as she consider it. "I don't know. I hadn't–" She's interrupted by a familiar knock at their door–and he swallows hard. It's Mal, and she's right on time. Regina's hands are still trembling as she pushes the tears from her eyes and draws in a deep breath. "We'll talk about this later, okay?"

"Okay," he says as they both push out of the kitchen to invite in Mal–and as soon as the door is open, Mal falls into Regina's arms, and he watches the way she nuzzles her shoulder, and a soft smile edges onto his lips as he watches Regina comfort her.

She and Regina settle on the couch and he opens up the wine she brought to go with dinner, pouring it into three glasses as Mal explains the details of a fight she had with her mother–and his heart beats a little faster as she admits to them that she doesn't want to marry her fiance, Stefan, but knows it's not actually her choice to make.

And, then as he sits down beside them, handing them each glass, as Mal goes on to say that she doesn't love Stefan and even the thought of spending a lifetime with him is too difficult to consider–and her hand slides over his thigh as she rests her head on his shoulder. He can't help but notice the way Regina reacts, her eyes widening as if she's finally seeing what's been right in front of her all along–and a little grin edges onto her lips as their eyes meet momentarily before she cuddles into Mal's other side to comfort her.

She'd spent the rest of the morning sitting at her desk in a fog. Her thoughts kept swirling around memories of her and Robin and Mal, an she found herself thinking about things she hadn't allowed herself to remember in nearly a decade. They were happy–all three of them–and even now, she couldn't see it coming.

Mal seemed to think that what they had couldn't have lasted–that she and Robin would have eventually come to realized a life without her would be neater. Of course, the fact that they'd just gone on with their lives seemed to support that notion–and while Mal had been living in a literal hell, they'd started their careers and gotten married, they'd started a family and opened their own firm, and to most, it seemed they'd found a way to have it all.

Their friends often commented about how lucky they were and how they felt so envious of the life they'd built for themselves–two beautiful sons, a healthy work-life balance that allowed Regina enough independence to practice law, disposable income that allowed them vacations and very comfortable life–but for them, something had always been missing. They didn't talk about it very often–and as the years passed they talked about it less and less–and though she didn't like to admit it, it didn't have to be the way that it was.

They said that Mal had just disappeared from their lives, but that wasn't entirely true. It was true that she'd left and that it was unexpected, it was true that she'd married a man she didn't love and cut off all ties to them–but it wasn't like they didn't know where she was. It wasn't like they didn't know exactly where she was. They knew that she and Stefan lived in an East River Villa on the Upper East Side. She attended charity events and political fundraisers that were widely covered by the papers. She regularly dined with powerful families like the Kennedys and the Dukes, and it seemed wherever she went, a photographer followed. It'd have been easy enough to see her in person–and she doubts Mal would have had the heart to turn down an invitation to lunch or would have turned the other way if they'd run into her while shopping on Fifth Avenue.

But they hadn't tried–they'd been too stubborn and proud, too broken-hearted to reach out. So they didn't; they'd just let her go, and now, here they were…

By the time noon rolls around, she's in an elevator on her way up to Mal's suite.

On the short ride over she'd planned out their day–and though she expected a little resistance from Mal, she wasn't taking no for answer.

She knocks just once before Mal opens the door, still wearing the nightgown from the night before–and she finds herself bristling at how easily accessible Mal is to the rest of the world. Anyone could have been standing at the door…

"You didn't have to come here," Mal says as she closes the door behind Regina. "I'm–"

"Fine," Regina cuts in, a little smile curling onto her lips. "You told me that about a hundred times before I left this morning."

"And you clearly don't believe me."

Regina's eyes widen as Mal folds her arms over her chest and arches her brow–and that makes her smile. Today, there seems to be a little more life in her, a bit more of the spunk she's used to–but still, her eyes are sunken in and she looks so frail, like she could break at any moment–and all she wants to do is take care of her. "I'd feel a lot better if you didn't just open the door to any–"

"To you," Mal cuts in. "I opened the door to you, Regina."

She blinks. "And how did you know that? Hmm? You didn't ask and there's not a–"

"Regina, you told me you were coming over for lunch." A little pouty grin pulls onto Mal's lips. "Even though I told you that wasn't necessary."

She shrugs. "I wanted to see you."

"I'm okay, Regina. Really, I am. I swear it," Mal says, tentatively reaching for her hand. "You don't have to worry about me."

Her eyes roll and she rubs her thumb against the back of her wrist–and she wants to believe her. She wants to believe that Mal isn't beating herself up over what happened, that there's not some part of her that thinks she deserves whatever's to come, that years of obvious abuse hadn't taken their toll. But she can't ignore that the bed isn't made and the curtains are still drawn, that Mal still isn't' dressed for the day and clearly had no intention of going out into the world or that she's hiding from it.

"You're already doing so much to help me."

Regina's eyes narrow and her thumb presses a bit harder into Mal's wrist. "As your lawyer, sure," she tells her. "But what am I doing as your friend?"

"You don't have to–"

"Be your friend?" Regina scoffs. "Well, you're about thirteen years too late for that."

A sad little smile edges onto Mal's lops as she looks down at her hand, watching as Regina's thumb rubs circles at the base of her palm. "Is that what we were?"

"We were always friends, Mal. Even when it was more than that."

"And what about now? I don't exactly… fit."

"You fit," Regina says easily. "You always did."

"Regina, I'm–"

"I'm serious," she cuts in. "I've been a shitty friend to you, and the biggest regret I have is that I just let you walk out of my life." She pauses. "And Robin feels the same way. He misses you, too."

Mal nods and again, she looks down at Regina's hand holding onto her wrist. "Does Robin know that you're here?"

"He does."

"Was he upset about last night?"

"Not because I was here with you," she tells her. "He was just upset that I didn't call and…" She sighs and looks up at her. "We talked this morning, and we think that you should come and stay with us."

"Stay with you," Mal says, blinking as her eyes meet Regina's. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? You shouldn't be alone and–"

"It'd be too hard," Mal admits in a quiet voice. "Being with the two of you again, but not… with you. That's why I left. I couldn't be just your friend, but we couldn't be lovers anymore, either."

"Why not?" She asks again. "We were good together, all three of us, and–"

"It wouldn't have worked in the long run."

"Says who?" Regna asks, shrugging her shoulders. "Look, I'm not saying anything has to happen between us. I'm not saying you have to move into our bedroom, but I'm also not saying that your can't. We just… we just want to make sure that you're okay. We want to take care of you and…" She sighs, and momentarily, her eyes press closed. "We have a guest room that we just remodeled. It has a fireplace, and its own radio, and a view of the the garden Henry and Roland planted this spring, and… I think Robin and I would both sleep a lot better if you were there and not here, where anyone could find you."

Mal swallows. "Anyone meaning Leo."

Regina nods. "Robin and I both have a copy of the police report and–"

"I can only imagine what he said," she says, looking away and shaking her head. "He's always hated me."

"And right now, you're an easy target."

"The hotel has security."

"Are they really going to stop one of the co-owners from going anywhere he pleases."

She blinks, shifting on her feet as she looks away. "So, it is him calling?"

"I think so," Regina says, her eyes shifting to the phone, its reciever still sitting on the nightstand, off it's cradle. "Have you gotten any more calls?"

"No, but I haven't hung up the phone." Her eyes widen a little as she looks back to Regina–and again, that terrified look she'd had the night before is settled in her eyes as her hand starts to tremble. "You don't think he'd… come here or…"

"I don't know," Regina murmurs as her voice trails off. "But I also don't want to find out."

Mal draws in a breath. "So, your guest room has a nice view?"

Regina nods. "It's not the Manhattan skyline that this place offers, but Roland insisted on planting sunflowers and Henry's tomato plants are growing quite nicely…and quickly."

"I'm still not convinced this is a good idea. Robin's the prosecuting attorney and I'm sure that having the person he's prosecuting living under his roof isn't ideal."

"He wants you with us, too, Mal."

"And your kids are at camp, you said?"

Regina nods. "Even if they weren't, it wouldn't change anything. We'd still want you there."

Mal's head tips to the side. "I'm sure you'd love to explain to your children why you've brought a murderer–"

"No," Regina cuts in. "Don't say that."

"I murdered my husband, Regina."

"There's something called justifiable homicide," she counters, giving Mal's hand a tight squeeze as her eyes fall to the floor. "What you did wasn't murder. It was self-defense."

"I'm not sure that most would agree."

"I am," Regina says, grinning gently as she looks back to her. "And I intend to prove to it." Taking a breath she gives her hand another squeeze and then lets it go. "Now, get dressed and pack up," she tells her. "We have plans."

"We do?"

"Yes," Regina nods. "I'm taking you to lunch."

"Oh, I don't think I should–"

"Mal, there's no reason you need to hide away from the world." She smiles as a little grin tugs up at the corner of Mal's mouth. "Do you need help packing?"

"No, I… didn't actually bring anything. I just have what I'm wearing and the outfit I wore yesterday. I can be ready in ten minutes."

"Do you want to go back to–"

"No," Mal says, cutting in as her voice rises over Regina's. "I can't go back to that house."

"Okay," Regina replies easily. "How about this, then? We'll have lunch at Macy's and do a little shopping, then we'll go to Elizabeth Arden for facials and then we'll go home." She grins. "I think Robin said something about making dinner tonight, and I promise it's not that awful chicken salad I made and complained about yesterday."

"My accounts are frozen. Everything was joined when Stefan and I married. And I can't bring myself to ask my father for–"

"This is on me," Regina insists.

"Oh, I couldn't let you–"

"I want to," she says easily. "Robin and I both do."

For a moment, Mal doesn't respond–and for a second, she fears that Mal won't agree. But then, she nods and she smiles–and then she leans in and presses a soft kiss to Regina's cheek, whispering her thanks before retreating into the the bathroom to get dressed for the day.

"I'm sorry," Mal breathes out as she pushes away from them both, rising to her feet and taking a long sip of her wine. "I really didn't mean to fall apart on either of you that way."

"Don't apologize," Robin says. "I… can't imagine what it'd be like to be forced into a marriage."

Nodding, she turns back to them. They're such a beautiful couple–and both them were so sweet and sincere. She doesn't really know when it happened–and it probably was always there to some degree–but little by little over the course of the last couple of months she'd been falling in love with them.

Them.

Not him, not her–them.

It hadn't bothered her that her parents had chosen her husband of her–it hadn't bothered her that the man she was marrying didn't love her because she hadn't realized what she was missing. She'd never been in love–and long ago, she knew that she'd never have the sort of live she wanted, so she'd sworn it off, accepting what she couldn't have. Sure, she had flings here and there–mostly drunken nights with other women that were never spoken of the following morning, and on the rare occasions that she found herself in a place where no one knew her, she'd pretend to be someone else and seek out a one night stand with a soldier or a sailor she'd never see again, and of course, there'd been that couple she'd spent a summer with in Newport…

But the more time she spent with Robin and Regina, she saw much more plainly what she lacked with Stefan, what she could never have because of him, and for the first time she found herself yearning for something that was more than just a casual fling. They made her feel safe and cared for, and they made her feel things that Stefan could never make her feel. When she was with the two of them she felt herself–she felt accepted and genuinely happy.

But they weren't hers; they had each other–and if they knew the things she privately found herself thinking about, she'd surely lose them…

"So, what happened?" Regina asks. "Something had to have happened."

Mal nods and sits on the arm of the chair across from them. "It wasn't… anything, really. Just…" She takes a deep breath and looks to them, watching the way they watch her with empathetic eyes. "I told you two that my father was hosting a fundraiser, right?"

"A benefit for the troops," Regina's quick to say. "He made you wear that red, white and blue dress you hate." A little smile tugs onto her lips. "You said it was important to him to make sure that everyone knew where your family stood."

Robin nods, "Because of your German roots."

"Right," she murmurs as she nods. "Well, at the end of the night I was taking off my makeup and Stefan was still there. He'd had a lot of drink, so he was staying the night and I started talking about those refugees that were turned away in the thirties, and how things might have been different had they been allowed to stay." She watches as they both nod. "And he just… started laughing."

"What?"

"Why?"

She shrugs. "He told me I was too pretty to have an opinion."

"Asshole," Regina murmurs, her eyes wide and indignant.

Mal nods. "And so we got into this huge fight and he told me that when we married, I'd have to learn to keep my mouth shut." She watches as Robin's jaw tightens and he scoffs. "So, he went to bed and so did I, and in the morning I told my mother I didn't think I could marry him."

"And… that's when you told her you didn't love him?"

She nods. "Yeah, and she told me that she didn't care. She told me that love and marriage don't have to go together." She watches as Robin and Regina exchange looks–and she can't quite read them. "They're just… selling me off to the highest bidder for the sake of their empire."

"Your feelings be damned."

"Yeah," she murmurs as she looks to Regina. "My feelings don't matter."

Again, she watches as they exchange looks, holding each other's gaze for a long time–and again, she can't quite read them.

"So, essentially, what it boils down to," Regina begins as her eyes shift back to her. "Is that you're being signed up to spend the rest of your life in a loveless marriage and you don't want that."

She nods. "That's about the size of it."

"Stefan knows this and–"

"And everyone knows it," she sighs. "He and I barely tolerate each other. The only reason we're getting married is because our fathers are friends. They're business partners and, if we marry, the business stays intact once… well… once they're gone."

"That's… quite a heavy burden."

"It is."

"And Stefan is… just okay with this?"

She shrugs as she looks between them. "He doesn't want to split the money and he gets what he wants out of the relationship."

Regina's eyes narrow. "Which is…?"

"Sex and control."

Robin bristles as his eyes shift from her to Regina and then back again. "Two things that probably shouldn't go together."

""No," Regina murmurs. "And you get… nothing?"

"I get lucky when he's too drunk to want to have sex with me… which… is actually pretty frequent." It's supposed to be a joke, but no one laughs, not even her–and instead, she finds tears welling back up in her eyes. "It's like a life sentence."

"It's not fair," Regina murmurs. "Mal, I'm…" She sighs and again, her eyes shift to Robin and gives him that indescribable look. "I don't even know what to say." She blinks and looks back to her. "So, you're just… stuck."

"I am."

"Well, no," Robin murmurs. "You have friends. You have us." She grins and nods–and her chest tightens a little. She does have them, just not in the way that she wants them. "And, you know… there are plenty of people in unhappy relationships that have someone on the side."

"Multiple people, even," Regina adds, her cheeks flushing in a way that seems uncharacteristic. "I just mean…"

"I could have affairs," Mal cuts in as Regina's voice trails off. "I get it, I just… it' dbe nice to have someone who… loved me. And I don't really know how I'd go about that, you know? I mean, with the exception of the two of you, I–" She stops as her chest tightens and her cheeks flush at the implication that's likely only obvious to her. "I just mean, I wouldn't know how to go about it. Outside of the two of you, I don't even have friends."

"People love you, Mal."

"I don't know. People like what I can give them, and now I'm adding sex to that? It just seems… icky." She shrugs and looks between them. "Sure, I can just find people who want to have a fling here and there because I'm bored in my relationship and flings can be fun, but… what if I don't wnat that. What if I want more than that from someone? What if I want something that's… not just sex, something real and…" Her voice trails off and she looks between them. "I want what you two have… the closeness and intimacy."

"And you don't get that with a fling," Regina says, looking to Robin.

"No, you don't," she sighs, swallowing hard as she draws in a breath and presses her eyes closed. "I'm sorry. Tonight was supposed to be fun and I'm just… ruining it with my sob story."

"You're not ruining anything," Robin tells her–and suddenly, she feels him beside her. Her eyes open in time to see him smile warmly as his arm folds around her and it takes everything in her not to kiss him–and then a feeling of guilt consumes her as her eyes move to Regina. She watches her for a moment–watching the way she watches her and Robin–and again, she can't quite pinpoint what it is that she's thinking. "Why don't we all go out tonight?"

"What?' She murmurs, looking back to Robin. "No, you two went to all the trouble make–"

"We can keep it warm in one of Granny's ovens," Regina cuts in. "And if it goes bad, oh well."

"I don't want you to waste–"

"We'll go to a movie," Robin decides. "Get burgers and shakes afterward."

"It'll be fun and it'll take your mind off of things for awhile.

A little grin edges onto her lips as she looks between them. "It's already after seven, I…"

"Can stay the night," Regina insits. "We'll pick up some beer on the way back here, and you can vent or ignore it entirely, or we can put on a record and get stupidly drunk."

"Yeah, we'll make a night of it," Robin say, squeezing her into his side as he presses a quick and fleeting innocent kiss to her hair. "I'll go clean up the kitchen," he says, pointing to the newspaper on the end table. "And you two can pick a movie."

Mal nods and watches him go and before she can even fully exhale, Regina's at her side with the paper, resting her head on her shoulder as she reads the listings aloud.

And finds herself desperately wishing that they could be her someone on the side–and she desperately wishes that there was a way for her to voice that that wouldn't mean destroy their friendship.

Robin lifts the lid from the dutch oven and breathes in at savory smell of the lamb shanks simmering in port wine. There was a hint of rosemary and a hint of sweet honey and it reminded him of the sort recipe he and Mal and Regina would have made in the tiny kitchen of the apartment they lived in during law school.

It seemed a little crazy though to have taken an afternoon off work to prepare a dinner for the three of them and he continually had to remind himself not to get too far ahead, that this didn't mean they were picking up where they left off and Mal hadn't really come back to them on her own accord–but here he was, in the middle of making port braise lamb and roasting potatoes and vegetables, lost in memories of all the dinners he and Regina spent with Mal.

He hadn't let himself remember those days in years–he hadn't let himself remember how happy they'd been or how cozy and content they'd felt, tucked away in the tiny apartment above Granny's and he hadn't let himself remember her laugh or her smile or the way her blue eyes would shine a bit mischievously as she leaned in to steal a kiss in the middle of a perfectly mundane moment.

For too long, it had been too painful, and eventually those memories had to be tucked away–but now, those memories were all he could think of…

He grins as he tucks the dutch oven back into the oven and turns to the cutting board, slicing up bell peppers as he thinks back to an evening they spent with Mal. As always, he did most of the cooking–but of the three of them, he enjoyed it most. Mal and Regina helped, but they were often easily distracted.

He can remember one warm summer day that they'd wanted something quick before going to an art show in the park, and something that would leave enough leftovers to snack on when they returned well past the time that Granny's closed for business. He'd been slicing up a meatloaf to make into sandwiches–and Mal and Regina were finishing up the cold tuna noodle salad. His grin warms as he remembers Regina pulling herself up onto the counter beside the bowl and plucking a little broccoli florette from the salad. Her legs hooked around Mal's hips and Mal laughed softly as Regina pulled her in, draping one arm over her shoulder as soon as she was close enough. She traced the broccoli over Mal's lips, biting down on her own lip as Mal licked the dressing away and then, they both laughed out as Mal's teeth clamped down on the broccoli, stealing it away from Regina–and then her hands found Regina's hips, pulling her to the edge of the counter as she leaned in to kiss her.

He'd smiled and continues slicing the moment, enjoying watching them have their little moment together.

He'd enjoyed those moments–the ones spent in that little apartment–where they didn't have to wonder who was watching or think about their every action. There, in their apartment, it didn't matter who they touched or how, it didn't matter who they kissed or when and nothing needed to be kept a secret.

The sound of the lock turning brought him back into the present moment–and his heart fluttered and his stomach sank as he heard Mal's voice. It was quickly followed by Regina's, and then he heard them start up the stairs and he wondered if he should interrupt and say hello–or if that would be awkward and uncomfortable or–

He stops the thoughts swirling around in his head, reaching for the butter dish and slicing s few squares to drop on the the pan between the red potatoes and asparagus spears. He pops them into the oven underneath the dutch oven and spins the timer, closing the oven as he wipes his hands on the dish cloth–and then, he starts toward the stairs, his heart fluttering still, and the knot in his stomach tightening.

He can hear them talking and he can hear the rustling of bags and tissue paper–an indication that they went shopping that afternoon. He stops just out of sight, listening as Regina shows her around the room. He opens the closet door and then one to the adjoining bathroom, telling her there should be fresh towels and plenty of soap and shampoo. He can see Regina pulling hangers from the closet and pointing to the drawers–and then, he spots Mal as she follows Regina, thanking her for what seemed like the umpteenth time as she hangs a couple of skirts in the closet.

His chest tightens as he watches her turn to Regina, smiling warmly but a little sadly as she takes a few blouses from her–and again, she tells her that none of this was necessary–and before she can even finish the statement, Regina cuts her off and insists that it was. He watches as Regina reaches for her hand, rubbing the back of her wrist her thumb as she reminds her that she was glad to do it.

Robin steps forward, his heart beating wildly with anticipation and a hundred other emotions–but he stops as Regina tugs her a little closer, and for a moment, it looks like she's going to kiss her–and he wonders if this is the sort of private moment that he shouldn't interrupt.

But Mal pulls back and turns away, turning to the bed as she opens a box and lifts a pajama set from it. Regina's shoulders fall as she directs her to the dresser, and they leave his line of sight–and he feels the strongest sense of loss, and finally he steps into the room. For a moment, he's rooted in place, still unnoticed and still out of sight as he watches Regina hand Mal a silky white nightgown–and he can't help but grin as Mal rolls her eyes as she takes it from her.

"I don't even know why I bought this," Mal says, offering Regina a sheepish little smile. "Or, well… why I let you buy it for me."

"Because you liked it," Regina says simply. "And because you need it."

"Need?" Mal asks, cocking an eyebrow as she looks up from the nightgown. "I don't know about that."

"You can't just have one pair of pajamas."

"But this is… closer to lingerie than it is to pajamas."

Regina shrugs. "So what? It's so soft and you looked so pretty in it." A grin tugs up at his lips when Regina's cheeks flush slightly. "And you felt good wearing it, right?"

Mal nods and looks away from Regina, rubbing her fingers against the fabric. "I did."

"You deserve to feel good about yourself," Regina tells her, her voice soft and gentle. "And if a nightgown does that for you, then so be it."

Mal nods, looking up at Regina for a quick moment before turning to the draw and tucking the nightgown in beside the pair of more sensible pajamas as he shifts forward–and suddenly, she catches a glimpse of in him the mirror.

Her shoulders stiffen as she stands up a little straighter as he moves closer, and in the mirror she watches him come nearer. Regina turns to look at him, smiling softly as she nods to him encouragingly.

"Hi, Mal," he says simply, his heart beating faster and faster as she turns to face him.

"Hi," she murmurs back, her eyes filling with tears as they meet his. "It's, um… it's good to see you again."

He nods. "I wish it were under different circumstances, but… it's good to see you, too."

"Yeah," she nods. "Me, too."

"I'm glad you're here, though."

She nods. "I am, too."

He takes a step forward and then another–and finally, when he reaches her, he pulls her into a hug. His arms fold around her and she lets him hold her, slowly her arms fold around his back and her head rests in his shoulder. They stand like that for awhile and he can feel her melting into the embrace–and it feel so good to hold her again as all the emotion he refused to let himself feel for all those years they'd be apart comes rushing back to him.

Before he's ready to pull away, the oven time rings out–and he sighs as he takes a regretful step back.

"I've got it," Regina says before he can pull away from Mal. "You two stay here and… get reacquainted with each other."

Mal's cheeks flush slight as she looks between them, watching as Regina steps away from the dresser, rubbing her hand over Mal's back and pressing a quick kiss to his lips before disappearing into the hallway, leaving them alone together.

He takes another step back as he reaches for Mal's hand–and suddenly, he's at a loss for words. Every now and then he'd caught himself thinking about a moment like this, thinking about what he'd say if he ever saw Mal again, but now that she's there in front of him, he can't remember a single thing he'd planned to say.

"I'm sorry about all of this," Mal says, her voice filling the silence between them. "Regina keeps saying that this is okay and I'm not imposing, but I know that I am."

"You're not," he counters. "Regina and I both wanted you here."

She nods. "But it's not exactly something that you planned for, is it?"

"Well, no," he admits. "But still, you're not imposing. We have the space and–"

"Maybe in the house," Mal cuts in, turning her eyes up to meet his. "But I've just sort of wedged myself back into your lives and I really never meant to do that."

He swallows. "What if we wanted you to?"

"You're sweet," she tells him as a faint little smile tugs onto her lips. "But I've completely turned your life upside down. I just dropped in and, now I'm here and–" She stops and takes a breath as his fingers push down between hers, and her eyes sink closed momentarily. "Robin," she says. "I… want you to do your job."

"My job…"

She nods and as her eyes open. "Don't do anything stupid because… it's me."

He takes a breath–he hadn't quite expected that, and he's not sure how to respond. "Mal, you shouldn't–"

"This is your first case as an Assistant District Attorney–and though I don't know him personally, I know a lot of the people who supported him and–"

"Why don't you let me worry about my job," he cuts in, as he tugs her toward the bed and sits down at the edge. "And I can only argue what the evidence shows and, even though its early, it's looking pretty clear that my obvious conflict of interest isn't going to be what loses this case."

"If you lose it."

"Mal…"

"It's just… it's not your fault I murdered my husband."

"You… probably shouldn't say that to me," he says, watching as she fidgets nervously with her fingers.

"I probably shouldn't have gone to Regina for help with this. It's–"

"I'm glad that you did."

"I didn't really think it through though. I knew you'd just become a prosecutor, and–"

He shakes his head. "The likelihood of me being the the one who actually got assigned this case was–"

"One in five," she says plainly. "And I could have just let my family's attorneys handle it. I'm sure a murder trial would have been a thrilling change after years and years of looking over contracts and moving money around and whatever other boring tasks fall to him."

"But you wanted her."

She nods. "I did. I… do," she sighs. "I trust her and I'm sure that … certain things are going to come out about me, and I just… wanted someone who knew me better than that."

"You can trust me, too," he tells her. "I won't let this turn into an assassination of your character."

"Even though I am the one on trial."

"Again," he says. "I can only argue what the evidence shows, and right now, I'm struggling to even make a case for the state."

She blinks. "So, you… think this might not even go to trial?"

"That's possible," he admits. "If the evidence isn't there, then…"

"No," she sighs "The Perraults would never let that happen. They would never stand for that. They won't be content until I'm locked away and preferably on death row."

"Well, it's a good thing that it's not up to them." She looks at him, but she doesn't respond–and he can tell she has less faith in the system than he does, and she knows better than anyone just how much sway a family like the Perraults have. He swallows and draws in a breath, then musters a smile. "But, um… like I said, we probably shouldn't be talking about this." She nods and again, he tries again to make her smile. "At least not without your lawyer present."

"Speaking of my lawyer… Regina alone in the kitchen usually isn't a good thing," Mal says, a little grin edging its way onto her lips. "Or at least is never used to be."

"It still isn't, unless it involves apples or lasagna."

"Some things never change."

"No," he murmurs softly as he looks at her. "Some things don't."

"So, um… what's for dinner?" She asks, shifting herself on the bed to look at him. "Regina said that you were going to make something."

"Lamb," he tells her. "Port braised lamb, potatoes, asparagus and a greek salad I've yet to make." He clear his throat. "Do you want to… come down and help?"

"Like we used to?"

"Yeah."

Mal nods and he helps her up from the bed–and together they walk down to the kitchen, and he grins as she laughs softly at the sight of Regina at the cutting board, slicing up a few red apples.

"What?" Regina asks, looking up as they both chuckle. "You two spend fifteen minutes together after more than a decade apart, and you're already teasing me?"

"It's just… the apples," Robin murmurs ashe chokes back a laugh. "What are you doing with them?"

"Well, I wasn't sure how to make the dressing or what things are meant for that or the actual salad, so I thought I'd make desert." She scoops up the apple slices and drops them into a bowl. "Unless you have something else in mind."

"No, I just… of course, you're making something apple."

She shrugs and looks up at them, her brown eyes wide. "Well, it's not like lasagna goes with lamb."

He and Mal exchange glances–and then, at the same time, they can't hold back their laughter any more. Regina's eyes roll, but she grins, nonetheless–and they fall into an easily familiar pattern in the kitchen as they finish preparing the meal.

When it's ready, Regina slips her pie into the oven as he and Mal plate the food and pour the wine–and they settle in the dining room, spending the rest of the evening talking about safer topics than Mal's current predicament and pending fate. They reminisce about the pastries that Granny used to make and how on cold winter days they all still have cravings for her clam chowder and her chili. They talk a little bit about Henry and Roland–and Regina laments that the boys still haven't written, while he comforts her assuring her that that's a good sign, and that they're probably having the time of their lives.

When dinner is done, they clear away the plates, Regina cuts the pie and they move into the living room. He and Regina sit together on the couch and Mal sits beside them in an armchair, her feet curled underneath her as she asks question after indulgent question about their sons–and she seems to hang on their every gushing word.

After dessert they have more wine, and he see Mal's eyes getting heavy–and not long after that, she excuses herself to go up to bed, and again, she thanks them unnecessarily for dinner and allowing her to stay with them, and for distracting her for awhile

"I'm glad you brought her back here," Robin says. "Tonight was nice… in spite of the situation."

"It was nice," Regina agreeress as she nuzzles closer, then turns her eyes up to meet his. "I… really wanted to kiss her goodnight."

He nods. "So did I."

"She's… not there yet though."

"Well, she has a lot on her mind and, no matter how easily it was to fall into old rhythms tonight, it has been a long time."

Regina nods as her head falls to his shoulder. "I keep wanting to… let it be like it was before.'

"Me too," he admits. "But I think she's going to need some time."

"If that's even what she still wants."

"Right."

"And I don't want her to feel obligated to or do something she regrets or…" Her voice trails off and she draws in a breath. "She's just so vulnerable though."

"So, you're saying that you… would still want…" His voice trails off as she looks up at him, biting down on her lip as she waits for him to say it. "You'd want the three of us to… be the way we were."

"Don't you?"

"I never stopped wanting that," he admits. "But it's not up to us. She's the one who walked away."

"And she's the one who came back."

"Yeah," he murmurs as Regina cuddles closer to him. "She is back. Maybe it doesn't matter why."

"And if she just wants to be friends then, that's… fine."

"Yeah," he murmurs again, pressing a quick kiss to her hair as his arm tightens around her. "Every time I let myself think about what it would be like to have her in our lives again, I never thought it'd be like this, but now that she is back in our lives, I… can't help but want her in whatever she'll let us have her."

"I know," Regina murmurs with a nod. "When we were shopping today, I went in the fitting room with her because she wanted opinions and–" She sighs. "And as I was sitting there, we… we tried to make it fun to take her mind off of the reason we were actually shopping. I had her spinning around and trying on different jackets with different shirts and we had a little fashion show, the way we used to and… there were so many time i just wanted to pulling her in and kiss her and…" She blinks as she looks up at him and he finds himself thinking about the moment he'd witnessed as they were hanging up the clothes. "Every time, she pulled away."

"She's scared. She's–"

"Oh, I know," she cuts in. "And it's been a long time. I don't even know if she still feels that way, but I… I just kept thinking that even if things could never be that way again, I was so glad to be there with her again that I… I didn't really care. I just… want her to be happy, even if that's not with us."

He nods and kisses her again–and though it's a sentiment that he shares, too, he finds himself hoping that those feelings will return for her, that they're there somewhere under the surface, and that when all is said and done, they can find a way to keep her in their lives because as wonderful as their life together is, it's always been missing something. They'd never quite admitted that to each other, but they both knew it and they both knew how to fix it–they'd simply been too stubborn and hurt to try.

And now that Mal was back in their lives, he wasn't sure that either of them could just let her go again–whatever that meant.

"Robin," Mal breathes out, her voice shaky and her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry," she says. "Please don't be mad at her. It was my fault. I kissed her. She didn't–"

"I'm not mad," he cuts in, his eyes shifting from Mal to Regina. "You didn't tell her?"

"I didn't think you'd be back so quickly. I thought I'd have a little more time to… explain things."

"Granny already left for the night, so I didn't have to do any schmoozing. I just took the cheesecake and–"

"What?"

Robin blinks as he looks to Mal, who's staring at him with wide, confused eyes and flushed cheeks. "I paid for it," he tells her with a shrug. "I left the money on the counter. Promise."

"We do this all the time," Regina adds. "Whenever we–"

"I'm not questioning the damn cheesecake," Mal cuts in. "I feel like I'm missing something pretty key to understand what the hell the two of you are talking about." She blinks, again looking between them. "And perhaps that would help me to understand why you kissed me and why you're okay with it."

"I kissed you," Regina begins in a tentative voice. "Because I…have feelings for you."

He watches as Mal's eyebrows arch. "And I'm okay with it because I do, too."

"So, you… you've talked about this?"

"We did," Robin admits. "We've been talking about it for awhile now."

"A-about kissing me?" She asks as she looks between them, then slowly starts to sink down to the couch. "I… I think I need to sit down."

"We weren't really sure how to bring it up," Regina tells her, slowly sinking down beside her. "But we're both attracted to you and we can't help but notice that… that you seem to be attracted to both of us, too. And we both… really care about you and…"

Again, Mal's eyes widen. "I… I don't believe this."

"Don't believe this as in…"

"Look, Mal, if we go this wrong, just tell us and… we'll never speak of this again."

"No," she murmurs in a barely audible voice as she looks to him. "You didn't." Slowly, he sinks down beside her, grinning as his eyes meet Regina's. "I just… I'm having trouble wrapping my head around how this is possible."

"So, you're…" Regina's voice trails off and she takes a breath, obviously nervous and obviously not wanting to get ahead of herself. "You'd want to… see where this goes?"

"And… what exactly would this be?"

"Well," Robin begins, taking a breath as his head spins–not quite able to wrap his head around the fact that it suddenly more than just an idea–and suddenly he feels at a loss for words. "We've been talking lately about the possibility of… opening up our relationship," he says, deciding to just start at the beginning.

"But we don't want just an open relationship," Regina adds. "We'd just want to open it to you, then close it back up again."

"So, it's be… the three of us," she says, looking between them. "Romantically."

Robin nods. "Or… combinations involving any of the three of us."

Mal takes a breath. "I…feel like this is a good time to remind the two of you that even though it's not something I really want to do or enjoy doing, I am sleeping with Stefan." She shifts a bit awkwardly as she looks between them. "It's not often, but I… I don't want to give you the impression that… I can be completely faithful to either of you."

"We're aware," Regina says. "And wouldn't want to do anything that would put you in a compromising situation."

'So, you're… interested in… letting us be you someone on the side?"

At that, Mal chuckles softly and once more looks between them–and he sees a flicker of something he can't quite place in her eyes. "The two of you are actually serious about this."

"We are."

"So, you really want… me?"

"We do," Regina says.

"And we could… keep this just between the three of us so that it could never find its way back to Stefan?"

"It'll be our little secret."

Finally a smile spreads across Mal's. "That's… kind of fun."

"It is, isn't it?" Regina asks, giggling softly. "So, does this mean that you're interested?"

Mal blinks. "I've been interested since the night we met."

They all grin–and then an awkward silence falls between them and no one seems to know what to do or say next. They hadn't planned to tell her this way–they thought they'd be drunk, so that if it went poorly or she was offended or uninterested, they'd at least be able to blame it on the alcohol. But it hadn't gone poorly and no one was drunk–and he couldn't help but be glad for that, even if it was a little awkward.

"So, um… what comes next?" Mal asks as she bites down on her lips. "I suppose it's a bit too soon to just… hop into bed." She grins as she looks to Robin. "We haven't even kissed."

Robin laughs softly and Regina nods. "It probably is. I mean, I know we've known each other for awhile, but… this is… this is different and…I don't really know where to… start."

"So, we'll just…"

"Try to get comfortable with each other," Mal says with a shrug, somehow feelings himself relax. "Maybe we could… talk a little more about what this will entail.

"We need to set some ground rules and… figure out what our expectations are."

"Expectations," Mal murmurs. "You mean… sexually?"

"And emotionally," Robin replies as he looks between them. "I just think it'd be helpful for us to all start off on the same page."

"So this is… more than just a couple of threesomes here and there," Mal says slowly. "It's… more than that for you."

Regina nods. "It'd be a relationship."

"Between the three of us," Mal says slowly, obviously still a little taken aback as she looks between them for clarity. And then a little laugh escapes her. "Do you really think this will work? I mean… you two are so…right for each other. I wouldn't want to get in the way."

"You wouldn't be in the way," Regina insists. "And, if you think about it, we've basically been dating you for months."

"Yeah, I guess it has sort of felt that way," Mal admits as she turns to Regina. "Have you ever been with a woman?"

Robin watches as Regina tense a little bit and then shakes her head. "No, but until Robin I'd never been with a man, either." She takes a breath. "Have you?"

A throaty laugh escapes Mal. "Regina, I went to an all girls boarding school–even the girls who weren't into girls were into girls for ten months out of the year."

Robin grins as Regina's brow arches. "She's a quick and eager learner though."

He watches as Regina's eyes widen and her cheeks flush. "And I think I'll need some wine to go on with this conversation," Regina says, drawing in a breath. "And a fork for that cheesecake."

Robin nods. "I can make both of those things happen."

He grins at them both as he gets up and goes to the kitchen. He takes a minute to select a bottle of wine, quickly deciding on Riesling–partly because it'll pair well with the cheesecake and partly because it's an unopened bottle. He plucks a few forks and the corkscrew from the drawer and carefully grabs three wine glasses–and when he returns to the living room, Regain and Mal are once more kissing on the couch. Regina's hands on her face and he can Mal's tongue slipping into Regina's mouth–and for a moment, all he can do is stand there and watch and think about how beautiful the two of them are together.

Mal attempts to break the kiss as he sits down at her side, but Regina pulls her back–and he chuckles softly as he uncorks the wine, and he can't help but smile when Mal giggles into the kiss. And then, after he pours the wine, he settles back on the couch, rubbing his hand against Mal's back–and finally, when Regina allows her to pull away, she turns to him. Before he even realizes what's about to happen, she's kissing him.

One of her hands presses to his chest and the other rests softly on his jaw, her fingers rubbing absently at the stubble on his cheek. His chest flutters as his hands hold her hips, kissing her back and matching her intensity–and then she breaks the kiss. His eyes flutter open as she strokes his jaw, and he can still feel her warm breath on his lips–but she's not looking at him, she's looking at Regina.

"Come here," she murmurs in a low voice. "Join us."

"I… don't know where to…"

Mal smiles and her finger strokes down the crook of her heck. "Start here."

He swallows hard as Regina tentatively moves toward them–and he grins as she presses her hand to his arm, biting down on her lip before leaning in to kiss Mal. Mal breathes out a low and encouraging moan as her head tilts back–and then, her eyes meet his as she pulls him back to her.

Mal pulls away, grinning as she pulls back as she looks between them, and as her eyes meet Regina's, she nods to Robin–and a moment later, Regina is kissing him and Mal lips are against his jaw and her tongue is flicking against his earlobe.

He can feel himself getting worked up–and it's not a surprise when Regina pulls away, breathlessly glancing down at his with an arched brow as a grin pulls onto her lips. Mal pulls away, too, looking between them and smiling as she leans back against the couch and draws in a breath in an effort to compose herself–and then, as they looks between each other, all flushed-faced and breathless, it's apparent to all of them that all enjoyed it, and there's no question that this is going to be the start of something incredible.

He doesn't expect to find her in the kitchen–and certainly not sitting on the counter top with her feet crossed in front of herself. Her long blonde hair is tucked over one shoulder and she's staring intently at a recipe card and the Polaroid paper clipped to it –and it's just one of many she's looked at.

"You gave us that idea, you know," he says, stepping into the kitchen and making his presence known.

Her eyes widen as she looks to him–and for a moment, there's a flicker of fear behind her eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I shouldn't have been–"

"It's fine," he says, cutting her off before she can finish a completely unnecessary apology as he moves toward the counter and plucks one of the cards from the pile and grins down at a picture of Roland eating a homemade and over sized cinnamon roll. His eyes are wide and shining and even behind the cinnamon roll, his smile is obvious. "I am fairly certain," he begins, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the counter, "you took this exact picture of Regina eating… some kind of pastry."

"An apple fritter–an apple fritter that she was so damn happy about it," Mal says, grinning as she looks to him. "And you're right, she had that exact expression–messy curly hair and all. He really is his mother's son."

Robin nods in agreement. "I am pretty certain the only gene he got from me is the Y chromosome."

"And your dimples."

"Okay. Two genes." He says, chuckling softly as he picks up another picture, smiling down at both of his sons holding sticks of celery smothered in peanut butter and dotted with raisins. They were so much littler then, and though he's not certain, the picture with the celery might have been the first they'd taken–and he can still vaguely remember teasing Regina that celery sticks and peanut butter hardly counted as a meal. The boys had both taken her side and he'd had no choice to concede and snap the polaroid as she scribbled down the "recipe" on the card. "Henry's always been much more of a blend," he says, looking up at Mal briefly before looking down at the picture of his missing-toothed son. "Sometimes I don't think he looks like either of us."

Mal's face falls as she looks to him-and for a moment, it looks like she's uncovered some great secret or–

Oh.

"Regina told you that we weren't always sure of Henry's paternity, didn't she?"

"I'm sorry," Mal nods. "I just… when you said…" Her voice trails off and she sighs as she looks away from him. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"You didn't," he tells her, offering an easy shrug. "I brought it up–and apparently, so did Regina." He waits for her to look to him, and then he grins in an effort to let her know that he isn't upset and this isn't a touchy subject. "Which is odd because she and I haven't talked about that in… years."

Mal looks back to the card in her hands. "We were talking about, um, a rough patch you two went through after, um… after I left."

"Ah," he nods. "That was hard."

"I just never thought that it would be."

His brows arch. "We loved you."

"But you loved each other, too."

"We do," he nods. "And we never doubted that, it was just difficult to figure out what our relationship was supposed to look like without you. You were… such an integral part of it."

Her eyes shift up to him and his breath catches. "I just hate that I almost ruined what you to had."

"You didn't ruin our relationship and…" he draws in a breath and leans his elbows against the counter, picking up another recipe card with an attached picture of Henry in a pair of flannel pajamas, sipping a frothy cup of hot cocoa. "Our relationship wouldn't have been ruined even if Henry weren't biologically mine." He grins as he looks up at Mal. "I'd have been his father, no matter what."

"You'd… have been able to get over it?"

He nods. "It stung," he admits, remembering Regina's teary eyes as she told him she thought she was pregnant and the way she'd struggled against her tears when the doctor confirmed that she was. "The night be told me, we got into a big fight and even then, I knew that I'd forgive her." He shrugs. "I'm not even sure she'd have needed my forgiveness."

"Really?"

"I love her," he says simply. "And I know she didn't mean to hurt me. She made a mistake because she was drunk and heartbroken, and I could never hold that against her." He grins. "Besides, that pregnancy made us get our shit together and gave us something else to focus on." He watches as a grin tugs onto her lips, and then he looks back to the picture of Henry and his cocoa. "After awhile, I stopped even thinking about the possibility that he might not be my son."

"You could just… forget something like that?"

He nods, "And I told Regina has much."

"I'm sure that was a relief to her."

"It was," he admits. "She felt so guilty and though she never said it, I think she was worried that I wouldn't be able to go through with raising a child that wasn't biologically mine." He shrugs. "But I was there for her whole pregnancy. From that first heartbeat to the first time Regina felt him kick. I was there for all of the doctor's appointments and for all of Regina's weird pregnancy cravings. I was the one who rubbed her sore, swollen feet and held her hair back when she had morning sickness–which lasted until the very end of her–and I was with her when her water broke. There's no way I wouldn't have saw his as my own." He grins, shaking his head. "Her water breaking was quite a surprise, by the way, considering the doctor said she wasn't due for another month."

"Is that when you realized–"

Robin nods, chuckling softly. "Henry was either conceived a month before the doctor told us–which means he was conceived during a time when it was just the two of us–or he was the biggest premie in the history of preemies." Mal laughs softly and shakes her, and a burst of laughter escapes him. "He weighed over ten pounds, and it just so happens that he looks exactly like my mother."

A little grin pulls up onto Mal's lips and she looks down at the photograph between his fingers. "Well, regardless of who they look like, you and Regina certainly made two very beautiful babies."

"Well, I won't disagree with you there," he says, dropping the picture back into the pile as his eyes meet hers. "I am curious how this came up? Regina and I havent talked about it… in years."

"Oh," she breathes out. "She was… um… telling me about what it was like for the two of you after I left and–"

"It gutted us," he says, cutting in as her eyes fall. "And, as Regina obviously told you, we did some really stupid things." He can tell that she's feeling guilty–it's written all over her, from the way she hangs her head to the way her shoulders tense and the way her jaw tightens–and it make his chest ache. Slowly and a bit cautiously, he reaches for her hand, touching his fingers to her wrist. She flinches, but she doesn't pull away–and when his fingers curl loosely around her hand, and a little grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth when she looks back to him "We were lost without you."

"Yeah, Regina mentioned something like that."

Nodding he takes a breath. "Mal, why did you go? Why did you just… up and leave?"

"I had to," she admits in a small voice. "I just…. I couldn't stay."

"Why not?"

Her brows arch. "Robin. Come on."

"I'm serious, Mal. I can't think of a single reason that–"

"It couldn't have worked," she says, shrugging her shoulders as if it should be obvious. "It's a miracle it lasted as long as it did." His eyes widen incredulously and his lips part, but he can't seem to find his voice, so Mal continues. "You two were building a life–and you deserved to have a normal life."

"A normal life," he repeats. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Her jaw tightens as tears well in her eyes. "The kind of life where you don't have a dirty little secret hiding in the bedroom."

He blinks. Her words sting–and though the wants to deny it there's an inkling of truth in them. It had never been intentional and that's certainly not what they'd considered her–but he could see how she'd draw that conclusion. Only one of their friends ever knew about their relationship with Mal–and it hadn't gone over well with him. For the most part though, they'd kept it a secret because of Mal's situation–her family couldn't know and her fiance most certainly couldn't–it was just safer that way. At times that had been thrilling, but at other times it'd been frustrating–and though it was never intentional and though they never wanted her to feel that way, Mal was always the odd one out.

Her name didn't appear on invitations next to theirs, people introduced her as their friend, and though she spent most of her time with them in their apartment, it was theirs, not hers–though they never said that and would have adamantly argued against it. When she was able to stay the night with them–which was a frequent occurrence–there was always some excuse she'd made to afford herself more time with them. No one knew where she really was or what she was doing.

It was all a secret.

But there'd been nothing dirty about it and no matter what secrets they were keeping, they loved her and they wanted her in their lives.

"Mal," he breathes out. "What … what changed though?"

"Everything." He swallows hard as she smiles at him, batting her eyes to stop her tears from falling. "You and Regina were starting a whole new life. You'd graduated and passed your exams, and you were looking for jobs." She shrugs. "There just wasn't room for me anymore."

"That's not true."

"Isn't it, though?"

"So, Regina and I had no say in this?"

Mal shakes her head and looks away, her eyes settling on his hand, still loosely folded around hers. "You'd both have chosen with your heart, not your head."

His eyes widen a little. "

"It's what was best"

"Mal, you can't possibly bel–"

"It's what was best," she says, her eyes widening as she looks back to him. "I have to believe that." Her jaw trembles a bit as she stares a thim. "Up until today, I was able to tell myself that was true. That everything that I–" Her voice halts and she takes a breath. "That it was all worth it, that everything that happened after the day I decided to leave was worth it because you and Regina were okay."

"Mal…"

"I had to believe that you were happy and–"

"We were," he tells her, his voice soft. "We were happy–and we are." He drags his fingers back and forth across the back of her wrist. "It's just, we could have been happier if we'd had you."

She nods as her eyes press closed and tears are forced out from the corners. He takes a step in and reaches for her, turning her on the countertop so that she's facing him–and then, he brushes her tears away with his thumbs.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I shouldn't–"

"It's okay. You've got a lot going on right now and–"

"No," she cuts in. "I'm sorry that I hurt you and I'm sorry that I hurt Regina, but I didn't have a choice I–"

"What?" His head tips to the side. "What do you mean you didn't have a choice?" She hesitates, biting down on her lip and watching as he slowly realizes the decision wasn't entirely hers–though he hasn't quite figured out what that means. "Mal, if someone found out about us or–"

"It was for the best," she says in a small voice. "It'd have never worked out anyway."

"You keep saying that, but do you really believe it?"

She shrugs and a sad smile stretches over her lips. "I have to."

"Maybe Regina and I could have helped or–"

Mal shakes her head as his voice halts. "I don't think so but I love that you think you could have, or that you even wanted to."

"Of course I would have wanted to. Regina would have, too."

"And you are helping," she says with a sigh and a shrug. "Now, anyway."

Robin sighs and for a moment, he presses his eyes closed. There had to have been some clue that this was coming, some sign that she was having doubts and considering walking away from everything they had together–but there wasn't. He'd thought about it a thousand times, replaying those memories time and time again, but no matter what, at the end of it, he always felt as he'd been sucker punched–and the shock and pain never really lessened, no matter how much time had passed.

His eyes flutter open as Mal's hand ghost up his cheek. He swallows hard as he leans into her touch, bringing his own hand up over hers, and holding her against him and nuzzling against her–and then, as he looks to her, a little grin edges over her lips and she leans in, pressing her lips to his and kissing him softly. He can't help but respond, stepping in a little closer and momentarily losing himself in a kiss that's warm and familiar.

She was wrong, he finds himself thinking–they could have made this work.

And maybe they still could.