A/N: Wow, thank you all so much for your reviews and your response to this! Again, we are so excited to share this with you and we cannot wait for you to see where we are going, just as we cannot wait to get there. Enjoy!
Family.
That's all Robin Locksley has—which has mostly been manifested in a little boy with curls galore and dimples to absolutely die for, and ones that could certainly sway you in whatever direction it is that he wants, particularly when it comes to the world's finer offering of ice cream. However, there are two people in this world who are immune to his powers, a facet Roland Locksley is none too fond of, and what is more than likely the reason why he is currently curled up in his daddy's lap, crying his precious heart out. Though, little did Roland know, that his father was more than likely going to cave and let him have some ice cream once his mother left.
However, in the world of parenting Olympics, Marian, Roland's mother and honestly Robin's better half, will still turn out the victor for the evening, when she inevitably tells their son just who exactly she's going to meet.
Regina Mills—a household name, that's for sure, and one that's often been a name ricocheted off of the walls of Robin's very own home for many years now. She was an old college friend, or at least that's what Robin would tell people now, but truthfully, Regina was so much more than a faint memory that garnered nothing but a passing thought every now and again. But it's easier that way, pretending that she wasn't some glorious starlight in Robin and Marian's life or even vice versa. Because along with the memories of Regina, comes the bitter and irreversible traumas.
It's not like Regina caused those memories, if anything she's the least likely to blame, but she facilitates the fragments of those very memories that still tug at Robin's heart and kick him in the teeth when he least expects it. He wishes it could be different, but it isn't. It just is what it is. No take backs, no way to make up for it.
He hasn't seen much of her in their five years since graduating college, what with her need to move around from place to place.
It's for her muse, she'd excused, saying how she needed to move around to help her muse find it's place with whatever her next novel was. But all roads lead back to Atlanta, even for Regina Mills, so like it or not, she always found her way back to pop in, much to the jubilation of Roland, who believed the sun and the stares shone out of Regina's eyes.
She and Marian were also close. In fact, it was Marian (though she denies it profusely) who manipulated Regina into coming home in the first place. Of course, it'd been Regina's choice but that didn't stop Marian from prodding.
He thinks Marian has just been lonely. It can be rather tiring with two rambunctious lads, thirsty for adventure and the wilder side of life.
Marian needed someone who would be much more socially sobering. Then again, Regina did have her fair share of social exploits in university.
But, all in all, if nothing than for Marian's (and Roland's) sake, he's glad Regina Mills is back in their lives—this time hopefully a bit more permanently.
Although, Robin will be sure to just keep his distance, as he has for many years now, because that's what's best—because that is what makes sense—a necessity to keep the balance as it is. Especially, for Roland.
"Alright, up, up now," Robin gently coerces his son to deconstruct from the tight ball he's wrapped himself into and sit next to him on the couch and Roland does so, making sure to keep a prevalent pout because that will surely get Daddy to give him his way. And naturally, he succeeds. Robin drops his voice to nothing more than a mere whisper to speak between them, "Okay, my boy, if you can behave yourself for just a few more minutes then we'll see about that ice cream, sound good? But we mustn't tell Mummy, okay?"
Roland nods dutifully, curls bobbing along and instantly his tears have dissipated into nothing, as though they were never there in the first place. If only Marian were there to observe such a feat.
As if on cue, she comes bounding back down the half-way carpet covered stairs, panting and shooting a knowing look to both the boys because she knows when Roland's tears have magically dried up that Robin has let him have his way. He's sure they both look sheepish but Marian's piercing stare isn't held for long. Instead, she asks if Robin has seen her 'black heels with the silver studs trailing up both sides' but, of course, he hasn't the slightest clue what she's talking about. That doesn't stop him, however, from rising, as a devoted husband should, to help her find said pair of shoes.
When they're out of earshot of Roland, Robin queries, "So, is she settling in okay?"
"I don't really know. I haven't actually gone to see her yet, Robin," she teases lightly, as they reach the door to their bedroom and they file in together.
"You think she's actually going to stay this time?"
She sighs softly, losing a bit of her playfulness and he hates doing that to her, being a drag but he has to get it out. "I don't know. I hope so."
He watches as her beautifully bronze shoulders lift and fall in doubt and worry, and he responds with placing his palms on them, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
Marian's always had such a big heart, one that is desperate to tend to the wounds of others and care until her heart's content. And throughout the past five years, she's been worried for Regina, worried that she hasn't been coping correctly or worried that she might die off in some distant country and Marian would be the last to know—something he profusely reminded Marian was incorrect because he would surely be the last to know; Marian would know first out of the two of them, at the very least—a contribution that always puts a bit of a smile on his wife's face.
But that worry still reflects in her eyes and in her muscles, which are tensed beneath his hands, now. He tries to ease them, pressing a kiss into the crook of her neck and he feels her deflate a little beneath his touch. If only his kisses could take away every ounce of sadness that drenched her veins, and tried to poison her heart.
Robin feels her begin to shift beneath him but he only tightens his grip, settling his chin where his lips had just left. "Have fun tonight darling," he tells her softly, then muses just briefly, before adding, "And try not to scare our new built in babysitter away."
He knew that it would lighten her mood and he succeeds, even if it means that he gets an elbow straight to the gut. His cry of pain that follows is warranted, though, entirely unnecessary given that it didn't really cause him much pain.
"Maybe it's not Regina who should be scared," she informs him coyly, while triumphantly wriggling out of his grasp to cross the room over to their bed, where she falls to her knees to become eyelevel with its underside.
Magically, those very shoes she couldn't find two seconds ago suddenly materialize before their eyes, leaving Robin doubtless over whether or not his wife knew where her shoes were. It's a little quirk that she has, to seemingly misplace things only to mysteriously find them moments later, but he loves her all the more for it, even if that means running a bit late for dinner because she's lost the car keys or her wallet, or Roland is late to kindergarten because she swears she left his backpack by the door and "someone had to have moved it."
As she's rising, Robin chuckles softly, jesting, "Well, perhaps Regina can come live here and I can go live in her swanky new house that you dedicated far too much time to and subsequently neglected your husband, " he pouts.
Marian just rolls her eyes. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Locksley."
He watches as she falls backward onto the bed to put her heels on each foot, dexterously belting and tightening the strap on the shoe as she asks, "So what will you boys be up to… other than disobeying me?" She looks up at him for the latter half of the phrase, a smirk perched upon her lips and an eyebrow cocked nearly up to her hairline.
"Oh you know the usual," he tells her with a shrug, "Drink a few beers, get Roland that 'mum in barbed wire' tattoo he's been asking for…"
"Shut up, smart ass." Marian tries to suppress a grin, as she crosses back over to Robin, walking straight into his lips for a quick peck and then grabbing her black worn leather cross-body bag that she uses for her seldom nights out to the bar, off of the bathroom door handle where it usually sits for whatever abnormal reason that Marian wants it there for. When she loops it over her shoulder, she returns to her place in front of Robin and finishes, "Look, just don't get Roland too drunk, I don't want him having a bad hangover tomorrow as he's going over the alphabet."
Robin responds with a salute and yet another quick peck to his wife's lips, "I suppose that's only fair."
Marian doesn't verbally respond and it's quiet for a moment as she straightens her wine and black colored, knee-length dress, which hugs her curves in the most delicious way, leaving Robin unable to not admire her for just a moment.
It isn't until Marian is asking him something that he has to come back down to focus.
"Are you working, tomorrow or not?"
"Oh," he smiles nervously, scrubbing the back of his neck, "uh, no, studio is shut down tomorrow."
"Again?"
Yes, again, a fact Robin doesn't really care to linger on for too long, because it might just eat him alive. He hasn't the heart to tell her, yet—hasn't the heart to tell her that they're going under and that the show is on the chopping block this season, meaning it's more than likely to get axed—and the new season hasn't even started. In fact, on Daily Entertainment, they've already speculated the imminent demise of A Hopeless Robotic and Robin isn't too sure that they're wrong.
It's all the company's fault. They shouldn't have put Isaac Heller on as an executive creator for the show. He's a nightmare, truly, running things in a tyrannical sort of way and ignoring any ideas that don't congeal enough with his own for him to assume as his own. When Heller first arrived, he was bright eyed and bushy tailed and cooperative, excited, even, to work with the writers on the show, but as the power slowly crept to his head, the writers—Robin included—had no say on the executive decisions made by Heller. He created the ideas and Robin, and what's left of the writing team, just had to put it into words.
TV partners in crime, August Booth and Neal Cassidy had been the original creators and executive producers of the show and they were far more receptive to ideas but when Neal got into a wee bit of legal trouble and left the company in a lurch, they quickly threw in Heller, who's show Heroes & Villains had just ended. Surprisingly, that show was a total success but this one is at the end of its rope already, all odds against them. The company thought that it would be beneficial to have such a successful writer on the show but they were sadly mistaken. It's only exacerbated the painful death that the show is experiencing.
And then there's poor August, who can't get along with the man to save his life and, of course, Isaac has the company back, making it nearly impossible for August to say anything about the production without tanking his dream. Now, August is staying as far away as he can from it until he absolutely has to return. Robin hates seeing it—a writer's worst nightmare reflected in August's eyes. He's lost what he loves the most and there's no way of fixing it. Now, he might just lose it altogether, something August seems to be less concerned with as each day passes, particularly while he's holed up in Phuket.
But Robin continuously stays as vigilant as he can through the whole situation. Honestly, if he didn't have a family to support he would've bowed out ages ago but Marian and Roland are a priority. They could try and survive off of Marian's nurse salary but this is his dream after all. Too bad, that's turning into a bonafide night terror.
"Robin?"
"Yeah," Robin answers wearily, rubbing across his lids with his thumb and middle fingers, ending with them pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's just a mess up there, love, don't worry about it too much. They'll sort it all out."
But Marian is unfazed, holding fast to her skeptical gaze on her husband.
"I promise, it's all gonna be okay," he soothes, although, he's not certain exactly who it's meant for, but for now he let's the whole of the room believe it's for Marian because he knows things will work out. It's just a rough patch.
"Okay…"
He brightens, then, trying his damned hardest to lift the mood "C'mon you, we've got to get you off to your date, lest you turn into a pumpkin."
Marian doesn't argue and just concedes to Robin's wishes, trailing after him back downstairs where Roland is sitting on the couch, eyes glued to a rerun of Good Luck Charlie, which Robin knows he's seen at least three times before, but he's nevertheless, as invested as before. However, he eventually does take a moment to strip away his attention to ask, "Daddy, did you write this show?"
Something Robin laughs heartily at before responding that no, he didn't and reminding him that he writes a show about a guy who's a robot and has to pretend to be human to fit in.
"Are robots real, Daddy?"
Marian is snickering behind him because they both know now that Robin is in for a long night of excessive questions, which will only fuel more questions as they get answered. Robin's none too put off by it though. Roland's innocent and benign curiosity for the little things is what makes his heart melt. His son just wants to learn more about the world, little by little, and starting with the existence of robots.
"I dunno m'boy but I'm sure we can try and find out while we're getting you ready for bed."
Roland rises and deflates so quickly that one might've missed it had they blinked. "Aw man," he whines.
Seems he's forgotten about their frozen dairy secret.
"But first you better come kiss your Mommy goodbye, young man," Marian patronizes.
Roland says no more and hops off of the couch to toddle over to Marian and jump into her arms. They squeeze each other tightly for a minute or two before Marian finally announces that she really needs to go because 'Auntie 'Gina' is waiting for her. (Smooth slip, that was.)
Roland's entire demeanor changes once more to an elation Robin hasn't really seen from his son since, well, the last time that Regina had been home.
"Auntie 'Gina is home?!" he exclaims.
"Yes, honey." Marian nods, reflecting Roland's grin onto her own features.
"Is she outside? Did she bring me more presents from Mulan?"
"It's Milan sweetie, and no she isn't but don't worry, I'm sure she wants to see you very soon, so I'm sure Daddy and I can see if we can get her to come over for dinner sometime this upcoming week. How about that?"
"Okay!"
"Okay, baby, well, Mommy has to go so she can talk to Auntie 'Gina about coming over. You be good for Daddy, okay? And please make sure your Daddy gets you to bed at a decent hour, deal?"
"Deal pickle," Roland corroborates, using a popular confirmation phrase in the Locksley household, or rather the Maiden household because that was not a phrase Robin had used before moving to Atlanta.
Marian finally puts Roland back on the couch and heads to the door, Robin following closely behind.
"We should really have her over soon, y'know. I'm sure it would mean a lot to Regina if you came to see her," she tells him upon reaching their destination.
Oh, he knows what it means because whatever it means to her is tenfold for him and in and of itself already means too much.
"I know, we'll see. Have a lovely night darling and you two try not to get into too much trouble, alright?" He places a gentle kiss upon her cheek.
"Oh, of course not. And the same for you, boys."
"Naturally," smiles impishly but not for Marian to see, as she's opening the door, back turned to him.
She doesn't even respond, simply marches straight out the door into the calming twilight befalling their house. He watches as she goes, eyes following her until she's in the car and driving off to wherever it is that Regina Mills awaits—wherever a new extension to the family, all that Robin Locksley has, awaits.
