He gets to see Regina again a week after she'd last been in his pub. Will had offered to open for him the previous night after he'd closed up and made his way upstairs with heavy limbs and eyes burning from exhaustion. One of his weekend staff had called in sick, a bug going around town that had made its way through the local college (and he hopes it dies out before it reaches young lungs – it's nothing serious, just a viral thing but every illness means days filled with terror for parents of young tots, every sniffle and every cough monitored closely) and so he'd had to work through from morning into evening with Roland spending most of his Sunday chasing Will from booth to booth, using John as a climbing frame and working his dimpled charms on his 'Aunty Ruby' to get a bowl or two more of ice cream than Robin would usually allow.

He'd grumbled, in his tiredness as he'd dropped down onto his bed with his brother darkening his doorway, that he absolutely hated not spending his weekends with his son. "I mean, what's the use in weekend staff if I have to work it myself?" and it's not Ashley's fault that she got sick or Ruby's that she'd had to stay more hours this week with the sudden rise in custom and therefore needed at least one day of rest (even if she'd have gladly come back in and covered for him – she's a saint that girl) but he'd barely seen his son, had hardly any time to spend with him and had only really been moaning at him whilst he was in the pub, telling him to slow down, to quieten down or to calm down. He didn't want to be that Dad, the grouch, the workaholic, the distant parent. In the end, when he'd sounded almost close to tears in his frustrations, Will had told him to shut up and leave him the keys to open up for the morning.

He hadn't slept past what he usually did, waking a few minutes before his usual alarm time (he'd turned it off just before he'd gotten into bed the previous night but after so long of waking at the same time, he figured he must have his own internal alarm clock by now) and, incidentally, he'd had to go wake his brother when the idiot had almost snoozed away a half hour past when he should have been up.

He'd awoken Roland with a plate full of scrambled eggs and sausage, a little puddle of ketchup on the side just how his boy liked it (how they both liked it), "your first PE lesson," he'd stroked a hand through sleep mussed curls, taken in the drowsy pout on his boy's face (still not fully awake it seemed, his slow nod rivalling those of the drunks Robin often tended to at the end of a night shift) and just revelled in spending the first morning getting him ready for school since his first day.

The morning had been beautiful, crisp autumn air that nipped at their noses as they'd made their way to school in a matching set of winter hats, gloves and scarfs, Roland's small hand held tightly in his own as they'd talked of the day he had ahead of him.

He'd pulled Robin with him, when they got to the school gates, tugged on his hand and asked "come see my cubby papa!" and with the cherubic face that his son had, who was he to refuse?

He smiled at parents he hadn't, regretfully and a little embarrassingly, had the chance to properly meet yet with his work schedule, nodding politely at fathers and mothers alike as they dropped their children off and he wondered what they thought of him, of his absence in this morning ritual of hanging up coats and hats and scarves (with the added PE bag for today) on their assigned hooks but he pushes his guilt aside in favour of his son's excitement as he pointed up at the laminated name card that had been attached to the wall above Roland's hook. "It says my name papa," he beamed with pride, the words a little muffled as he bit at the fingers of one of his gloves, tugging with milk teeth that Robin knows will be costing him the big bucks as soon as they start falling out.

"That it does my boy," he chuckled, walking over to him and helping him remove his gloves, handing them over for Roland to pack away until this afternoon and directing his attention back to his son's name card placed proudly above his metal coat hook, a line of tan wooden boxes below to store bags and trainers in. "Is that a fox?" he asked with a furrowed brow, turning to look down at Roland before looking back at it.

"It's Robin Hood papa!" he exclaimed with a furrowed brow and it's only when Robin looks closer, recognises it as the Disney cartoon he'd bought for his son over the summer that he remembered the character and grinned, touched that his son would cho- "Miss Mills chose it for me."

Before he can question his son further, ignoring the way his stomach stirred at the thought of her thinking of him, the very subject of his thoughts can be heard in the hallway, seen through the door-less gap in the wall that separates this small area from the corridor, from the chaos of school mornings. She looked beautiful, as always, with her hair pulled back into something of a messy bun, long, slightly curled strands framing her face. She wore no makeup, or none that he could see, and he supposed that was partly due to her job role but also the very fact that she didn't need any. Her sleeveless blouse was a royal blue, contrasted wonderfully with her skin tone and was tucked into a high-waist black pencil skirt covering legs wrapped in thick black tights. She wore black heeled ankle boots that gave her a little more height than he'd seen of her (she was very petite, slim but curved) and when she turned, the sight of her calves had him imagining those legs tensed around his waist, entirely inappropriate thinking considering where he stood.

He would have made his way over to speak with her whilst his son unzipped his coat and hung his things up, was about to when he heard her laughter and realised that she was not alone. He shifted to his right a little, enough to see past the separating wall and find a man to be laughing with her.

He looked to be a little younger than Robin, perhaps even a little younger than Regina herself but not by much. He wore sports clothes, the PE teacher Robin assumed, a whistle dangling around his neck and a football tucked under his arm. He wasn't a bad looking bloke (Robin too begrudging to think of him as anything more even though he knew him to be most women's cup of tea), his hair was a shade lighter than Robin's, his stubble not quite as scruffy, as well-groomed as the short curls that sat atop his head.

He seemed enamoured with Regina, his eyes only on her and, well, Robin couldn't blame the man for she was stunning but he couldn't ignore the lick of jealousy that fired within him when the brunette laid a palm upon his forearm, leaning a little closer to him with her laughter. It was melodious, a wonderful, joyful sound that would have lifted his spirit at any other time but this and she wasn't flirting, was completely innocent in her amusement and friendliness with her colleague but still, it stung.

"Miss Mills!"

The two in the hallway turned at the sound of Regina's name, her surprise morphing into a warm smile as she laid eyes first upon Robin and then upon the little boy who'd called out to her. "Good morning sweetheart," she greeted, making her way over to them, another glance at Robin before she dropped down into a crouch in front of Roland that the boy's father considered quite a feat taking into account the heels she wore, tapping a finger at the end of his nose and asking "are you all ready for your first PE lesson today?" When he nodded in confirmation, a shy smile as he twisted right to left in his bashfulness, she hummed an affectionate laugh at him before looking up at the man standing beside her, standing and looking back down to Roland as she told him "good, this gentleman here will be your teacher."

Roland looked from her to the man beside her as Robin did and he looked to the boy first, bending and holding out a hand as he greeted "hello Roland," with a friendly smile that widened even further when a little palm pressed against his own and he shook it, "I'm Mr Humbert."

"Hello Mr Humbert."

The man straightened out and offered the same courtesy to Robin, holding his hand out and giving his first name "Graham," and when he winced a little, Robin loosened his grip as he replied "Robin."

Regina was smiling at them both, running a hand through Roland's curls before asking "and how are you Robin?" with kind eyes and a brilliant white smile that had his insides twisting. She was so very beautiful in both appearance and soul.

"I'm well thank you," he replied with his own warm smile, the man beside her instantly forgotten as he fell into dark depths, "glad to have been able to bring him in properly for once."

She must have heard the underlying guilt in his tone for she was instantly laying her free hand on his bicep, squeezing at the muscle soothingly as her gaze intensified and she told him "we all have to work Robin, besides" she continued, "at least you actually bring him every morning, even if I don't get to see your handsome face when you do."

Robin's heart stuttered in his chest before thudding so hard he almost feared she could hear it echoing in the school corridor though it appeared she was just as surprised as what had fallen from her lips as he was. The colour rising on her cheeks had him sobering enough to let out a breath of laughter that wasn't mocking nor malicious and had her biting at her lips as she managed a small smile, not taking her comment back much to his relief and her colleague's amusement it seemed if his grin was anything to go by. He dropped his head to hide it though, crouching a second later to engage his son in some more chatter and, surprisingly (to Robin at least), allowing himself and Regina some time before the first bell rang.

She was almost bashful though she didn't look away from him, her eyes never leaving his, her cheeks tinted pink and he couldn't help but chuckle again. "I must say Miss Mills," he didn't miss the way her eyes darkened a little at the use of her title, making a hopeful note of it, "I have missed seeing your beautiful face in my bar," and when she flirted back with a "oh you have, have you?" his instant answer was "very much so" and was spoken with complete sincerity and he couldn't help but lean a little closer as his stomach fluttered and an invitation formed on his tongue, "would you like to-"

It was just then that the bell rang for the beginning of school, startling the two who had found themselves in their own little intimate bubble and forcing them to take a step back from one another. He chuckled as her cheeks flamed though he couldn't help the sliver of disappointment that tickled at his stomach as she bit at her lip before bidding him goodbye with shy eyes that could barely meet his own. They'd gotten themselves lost in quite a moment and in the middle of the school where other teachers and lingering parents roamed. None had heard, not even Roland for Graham was keeping him too lost in playful conversation about their upcoming lesson but still, it had been inappropriate for him to pursue anything with her on school grounds and so, with much hesitance, he too bid her goodbye with a flash of his dimples before turning to crouch before his son.

"You be a good boy for Miss Mills and Mr Humbert, okay?"

Roland rolled his eyes and it gave Robin something of a premonition of what the future was going to be like with a teenage curly haired boy stomping about the place, slamming doors and blasting out music. It had him shaking away the images before leaning forward to press a kiss to his son's forehead, breathing him in and praying that time would slow down even for just a little while. It wasn't until Roland's whine of "daddy!" did he pull back with a breathy chuckle and an aching heart. His boy was growing too fast.

He stood, ruffled at his boy's curls, gave Graham a nod and Regina one last meaningful glance that she couldn't help but return and then he turned and left, wondering if he'd get to see her on his return for Roland. He hoped so.

It turned out that he didn't catch a glimpse of Roland's lovely teacher when he went back for his son at home time, feeling only a little disappointment that was quickly replaced with a flash of pride when his boy told of his PE lesson and the goal he'd managed to score against their opposing team (just a little class friendly between the children) and so the remainder of their walk home had been spent chatting about after-school clubs and weekend coaching sessions.

In truth, he didn't get much of a chance to think of Regina Mills until it hit just after 5pm and the brunette in question announced her presence with a bag dropped upon the bar top and her familiar scent reached his nostrils. He was smiling before he even looked up, the expression only growing when he found her to be doing much the same only she still held a little of that shyness that he'd glimpsed that morning.

"Good evening Miss Mills," he winked as he finished his stock list and pushed the clipboard to the side for a moment before leaning forward to rest his cheek upon the hand he had propped atop the bar with an elbow.

She shifted herself up onto one of the tall barstools, leaning forward herself with arms folded as she replied "good evening Mr Locksley,."

And he couldn't help but tease, "I see you've brought your beautiful face with you" and when she chuckled and laughed, dropping her gaze to her hands, "I thank you for that, this place needed a little prettying up."

She smirked, finally looking back to him with eyes that sparkled with mischief as she replied seamlessly, "I wouldn't say that," and when he cocked his head with a questioning eyebrow, she continued bashfully "you're here."

He chuckled, as did she, both shaking their heads at the giddiness that had returned to them. "Why Miss Mills," he drawled on a light laugh, "are you calling me pretty?"

"Perhaps."

"Well I return the sentiment tenfold," he told her sincerely, still smiling but deadly serious because she was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a very long time, perhaps ever but to save her the embarrassment of continuing, for he could see how hard she was taking accepting the compliment, he asked "what can I get you to drink?"

"Merlot," she replied somewhat relieved for the subject change as she dropped her gaze to her purse and began opening it, startling a little when a warm palm came to settle over the back of her hand.

"It's on me," he winked when she looked at him, moving away to pour the glass when her lips parted to object, chuckling at her somewhat fond comment of "idiot," and winking once more, thrilled to find her blushing, his heart skipping at just how much he was enjoying her company, at how much he always enjoyed her company even though they still barely knew one another. He was glad that tonight was slow, that he was able to remain once he'd returned with her wine and leaned with folded arms atop the bar as she took a small sip, humming low in her throat in enjoyment. "Good day?"

She smiled pleasantly at the question, nodding gently as she told him "pleasant enough, yourself?"

"Better now," he flirted, unable to filter himself around her though she didn't seem to mind if her smirk was anything to go by. "I have to say though," she looked up with eyebrows raised in curiosity and a head tilted in encouragement as he grinned at her, "a fox?" and when she simply frowned at him, completely perplexed, he let out a breath of laughter through his nose and elaborated "Roland's peg, he said you chose it…"

Regina groaned, her eyes closing and her face scrunching in amused embarrassment as she swept a hand through her heavy side bangs before looking to him and saying "don't think too much on it, he couldn't think of an animal and I thought it fit well."

"You think I'm foxy then?" he wiggled his eyebrows at her, revelling in the loud laughter that rang out from her and finding his eyes falling upon her slender neck as her head dropped back a little. He couldn't help but wonder what she smelled like up close, what her pulse would feel like thundering beneath his lips and how her skin would taste. He was still lost in those kind of thoughts when she looked back to him and it was as though he held no control over his own mouth when, quite suddenly, he asked "go out with me?"

That sobered her, had her smile fading as her eyes widened slightly and she looked at him in surprise, her lips parted and words escaping her apparently.

"I'm sorry," he apologised instantly, guilt written all over his face for the uncomfortable position he had quite clearly put her in with the question. "I didn't mean to…It just came ou-"

"It's okay," she moved to place a palm over the top of his hand though she didn't meet his eyes, biting at her lip before telling him, "I can't though Robin," shaking her head softly from side to side, "it…" she sighed heavily and he took some comfort at the fact that this wasn't easy for her, despite the fact that he felt like fleeing in this moment, so very embarrassed, "it wouldn't be appropriate for us to…your Roland's father and I'm his teacher, it wouldn't be right."

He nodded for a moment before her words were registering in his mind and it had him frowning as he asked her "is that the only reason Regina? Because of your work?" and when she nodded, albeit reluctantly, he asked "would it compromise your job? Us two spending time together?"

She exhaled a long breath, only realising her hand was still upon his when his turned over to grasp gently at her fingers though she didn't pull away. In all honesty she didn't want to for the feeling of his thumb skimming the back of her hand felt wonderful. "No, it's not anything like that," her brow furrowed as she looked at their joined hands, "but how would it look if anyone were to see us? What would people think?"

"Would that really matter?" he asked, tightening his hold on her hand, completely mindful of those finishing their drinks around them as he told her "and if it did, we could arrange something more private, perhaps a night spent here, I could close the place for the evening and we could talk over drinks and food…"

"You'd do that?" she asked with a hint of wonder to her tone, eyes almost shimmering in the dim light behind him that shone upon her and he smiled, pulling a small one from her as he told her "of course, whatever you want". She remained quiet for a few moments longer, thinking, deciding and keeping him in complete suspense before looking back at him through thick lashes and conceding with a warm "I would love to."

He was grinning from ear to ear at that, practically beaming and reveling in her shy laughter.

She looked at him for a moment longer, enjoying the happiness her agreement had brought out in him before asking "was this the reason for your little bout of jealousy this morning?" that had his smile fading somewhat and she couldn't help but laugh, daring him with her eyes to deny the truth of what had happened and when he didn't, when he only looked down at their still joined hands sheepishly, she chuckled, bringing her other hand to rest atop theirs and told him "you have no need to worry Robin, he's not my type."

"Oh?" he asked, a little playfulness coming back into those brilliantly blue eyes, "and just what is your type Miss Mills?"

To which she replied with a flirtatious wink that had him almost dropping to the floor, "I like my men foxy."