(A/N: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. That is literally all I can manage to say at this point. Y'all have been SO incredibly nice, way more than my mediorce self deserves. LOL. I cannot believe the amazing response the first chapter of this fic received, it blew me away. And, because of it, I have so many ideas for this fic now, so it'll definitely be a big ol' multichapter and I hope y'all who have/are reading it and, for reasons seriously unbeknownst to me, manage to like it, I hope you continue to do so. It's actually a really fun universe to write so far. If you like this kind of AU, Hollywood universe for OQ, you should DEFINITELY check out a new fic by brookeAp3 called "Guard My Heart"- I am already obsessed!
So thank you again to everyone who has taken the time to favorite, follow, review, and, especially, just read this fic, you honestly have no idea what it means to me.)
She has a headache.
It's a dull thumping at the base of her skull, nothing too terribly painful, but it was enough for Regina to be agitated enough to pop two Excedrin tablets into her mouth, had swallowed them down with a bottle of Fiji water, before she left the house. Though, it seems to have only gotten worse, not better.
She wants to blame the sun. It's nearly 1 p.m., the sun is completely risen, not a cloud in sight today, and it seems to be assaulting her corneas even through the protection of her Chanel sunglasses - ones that she paid far too much for for them to utterly useless, Regina thinks, bitterly.
But she can't fault the hot ball of plasma for the steady pinch of pain in her head. No, she knows by the gnawing in her stomach, the tightened feeling in her throat, and the slight shake in her hands and legs, that this something else entirely. Anxiety.
Robin sits beside her in a black SUV, the make and model she can't be bothered with - it's not hers, it's a car service's, so why should she care? - as they near The Grove.
It's a mecca in Los Angeles. A social center with shops and restaurants and a large cinema, where Mario Lopez interviews celebrities on Extra and tourists gawk at the affordable version of Sunset Boulevard.
And where Regina does not want to be.
It's her and Robin's first outing, though. Act I, in theatre terminology.
It has to be public, but casual. Attention grabbing, but without "trying" to grab said attention. It has to look comfortable, but, really, the man sitting beside her is still a stranger.
Well, he hasn't been too bad, Regina can silently concede, because she'll never admit that to him. Robin has been trying, despite her wishing he almost wouldn't. They had exchanged all crucial contact information, phone numbers, e-mail addresses, Twitter handles (Regina had followed him, and he her, when his casting announcement was made two days ago - the day after their meeting with Gold), and he'd texted her several times, as soon as today's arrangements had been sent to them, asking if there was anything he could do to aid them in this situation and, always, asked if she was still okay with the ruse.
She wasn't, isn't, actually. But what other choice is there? Gold said so himself, 'The Evil Queen' is not hirable, Hell, she had to fight tooth and nail to even get Heroes & Villains, which means Regina Mills will be a figment of Hollywood's memory in a year tops if her image isn't salvaged.
Not that she cares about her "image" or Hollywood or fame, in general. That's never been what's driven her. Sure, she won't be one of those celebrities who deny the perks of being a "movie star", won't say she'd trade in her closet filled by designer clothes or regret the gorgeous vacations to Paris or Ibiza that she's been fortunate enough to take, but the only thing she truly cares about is acting.
And to continue acting, she has to "date" the man sitting beside her. The man who is now reaching across the small space between them in the seat of the SUV, the knuckles on his hand gently skimming her bare knee (she'd chosen a simple, patterned black and white DVF wrap dress and black Jimmy Choo booties for their outing today), sending a shiver up her leg and gaining her attention away from the window she had been staring through.
"We're here. Are you ready?" Robin asks, a veiled concern etched in his voice. Regina nods, wordlessly. She watches him open his side's door and get out and she can only imagine that he's coming around to open hers.
Well, that just won't do.
She is certainly capable of performing this act, of putting on a live show, just as she had done in those community theater productions of Fiddler On The Roof and My Fair Lady, and she is more than capable of opening her own damn door.
Regina swings the SUV's passenger door open - nearly whacking Robin in the face in the process. She can already see the flashes of paparazzi cameras in the corner of her eye and a moment of panic suddenly seizes her. So much for capable, she internally scolds herself.
Luckily, Robin laughs, loud and booming, and she's not sure if it's his real laugh or part of the show, but either way, it swims pleasantly into her ears, making her feel lighter, more relaxed than she has been all day so far.
"How am I supposed to trust you with a bow and arrow if you nearly take me out with a car door, Mills?" He jokes, his voice elevated and this, Regina knows, is "Boyfriend Robin", so she follows the lead.
She guffaws, the heel of her booties finally hitting the concrete of the sidewalk as she takes Robin's outstretched hand, "I'll just have to be extra careful; I wouldn't want to hurt such a precious asset now would I?" She reaches up, with her free hand, brushing a "misplaced" lock of his dirty blonde hair back and then allowing her hand to momentarily touch his cheek before they both share a laugh.
They turn, ready to face the small group of cameramen that have gathered at the entrance of Tony's, a small Italian dining establishment. Robin keeps hold of the hand she had slipped into his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he goes to pass her, whispering in her ear, "I believe you're the one with the assests, Your Majesty."
Ah, there is the real Robin.
Regina resists releasing a huff of irritation, instead, smiling wider, as if he had said murmured something amusing, flirty, perhaps (though, could his actual comment be considered flirtatious? Regina pushes the thought from her mind instantly), but her sunglasses finally find a purpose, concealing the eyeroll she allows herself as she walks in step with Robin towards Tony's front door.
Their names are being spoken from several different sources, each pap vying for Robin or Regina's attention, something, other than a candid photo, to post on their website or sell to a magazine.
One of them manages to shout louder than the others, hollering out, "Is this a date?!"
Robin swivels his head around, flashing that toothy, dimply grin of his, answering with a chuckle, "Just two coworkers getting to know one another, mate."
Not a denial, but not a confirmation, either. He's good, Regina will give him that.
He opens the door, bowing his head to the side, adding an "After you, milady", and she enters, pulling on his hand behind her.
They're sitting immediately, at a secluded table, against a wall, but still in eye shot of Tony's front windows. Regina isn't surprised at the optimal seating, Gold's office had made this reservation, after all.
They place their orders with the waitress, a young blonde with a name tag displaying "Ashley" and who is far more starstruck by Robin than someone who works in a prominent Hollywood centre, in Regina's opinions, should be, but she takes their order, a chicken parmesean sandwich with a side of garlic herb fries for Robin and an apple gongonzolla salad for Regina, without asking for a "selfie", so at least there's that.
"You don't have to do that, you know," Robin suddenly says, once again tearing Regina from her thoughts.
"Do what?" She questions, careful not to allow her expression to show anything amiss as she reaches for her glass of iced tea - unsweetened, of course. Cora would pitch a fit if she knew Regina had been consuming unecessary sugar - the italian vinaigrette she ordered on the side of her salad has her feeling guilty enough.
"This," Robin answers, his smile widening dramatically, then fading to normal again, "The exaggerated smile."
"They can see from the window- " Regina reminds, but he interrupts her, scooting closer towards her in their circular booth.
"What I mean is," He pauses, seems to be searching his mind for the appropriate words, "Allow it to happen naturally. Let's talk and if you smile, you smile."
"Is this what I am to look forward to on-set, too? Are you always this lackadaisical in your jobs?"
He narrows his eyes toward her, but a smirk remains etched into his lips, "Not all of us are as high maintance as you, Your Majesty."
Regina bites into her bottom lip, as hard as she can without drawing blood, a subtle substitute for the scowl that wants to emerge. Her tongue pokes out to lick at where her teeth had taken up residence prior and paints on another sweet grin, "Do you take anything seriously, Thief?"
"Oh, I'm taking this quite seriously," Robin replies before drawing a sip of his Diet Coke, swallows, and finds her eyes, holding her stare, "Regina, when you're in a role, when a director calls 'Action!', are you an actress? Or are you the character you're portraying?"
Her brows furrow, confusion settling over her at his question. "In that moment, I'm the character."
"Exactly. Why is this," He subtlely gestures between the two of them with his hand, "any different?"
This man has clearly lost whatever sense he had managed to retain if he doesn't see the dissemblance between their roles in films and this absurd concept of faking a relationship.
"It's completely different," Regina hisses, the hand that she has sitting in her lap curling into an unseen fist, "This is me, this my life, not some character- "
"Except that's not entirely accurate, is it?" Robin proposes, his eyebrows lifting in tandem with the corners of his mouth, "Would you be sitting in a restaurant like this right now? Would you be wearing a dress, no matter how delectable you look in it," Regina's eyes snap up towards him at that comment and he shrugs, his grin morphing into something more sheepish than cocky, "I'm only human, Your Majesty, I can't quite deny beauty when I see it."
Regina feels a warmth zip through her body, finds her unfisted hand unconsciously flitting to her hair, which is falling in soft waves around the tops of her shoulders, pushing it behind her ear, before she realizes what she's doing and returns her hand to her lap, beneath the white table cloth, and ignoring the sensations crawling throughout her veins. She scoffs, "No one is around to hear you, Locksley, no need to lay it on so thick."
Robin appears as if he wants to argue her comment, but chooses to give a small shake of his head and returns them to his original point, "We're basically caricatures of ourselves in public, so why not embrace that 'character'? Be in the moment, this moment, rather than acting in it. Thinking of all the 'right' moves and how two friends should act as opposed to just what we'd be doing if this weren't for a job."
She begins to mull over his proposed method of action for this stunt, when he suddenly inquires "So what would you be doing?", his stare resting gently on Regina.
But no matter how easy his gaze may be, she stills the weighted beneath his bright blue orbs, unnerving her as she shifts in her seat. "What do you mean?"
"Like I said, I doubt you'd be spending your afternoon in a highly populated complex like this, so what would you, the real you, be doing?"
"I thought that we're supposed to be living our characters right now," She cooly responds, flicking a pointed stare towards him as she relives his words from moments before, "Doesn't talking about our 'real' selves defeat that purpose?"
"Fine," Robin concedes with a grumble and Regina can't help but smirk, mentally patting herself on the back for outmanuevering the the smart-ass. However, her prideful grin is now wiped away by his following question. "Well, since we're getting to know each other, Regina, what is it that you like to do when I'm not squiring you about town?"
Damn.
His teeth are sunken into his lip, his dimples barely concealed as he now wears a playful look of success, realizing that he has discovered an effective loophole.
She could lie, of course. In fact, he had been the one to point out that this, them sitting here, drawing the eyes (and camera lenses) towards them as they await their food and chat quietly, that she, is a character, a parody of her true self. And there's a difference between over-acting and being completely honest to herself.
However, as her eyes flick towards him again, she can't help but want to be honest. There's a little bit of one's self in every role, what's the harm, right?
She sighs and her hands slips down, fishing through her Chanel purse so that she can grasp her phone. With it in hand, she unlocks the screen and holds it out to Robin. He reacts as she expects him to, to the photo displayed on her homescreen, releasing a pleasant "Aw" that has that feeling of satisfaction swelling in Regina again.
"That's my dog," She explains, though not sure it's necessary. She retracts her phone, taking a minute to eye the image herself, as well as quickly skim a text her mother sent her ("Pictures of you and Locksley are already posted. Well done with the hands. DO NOT SCREW THIS UP."), then dropping it back in her designer bag.
"Who knew an Evil Queen would have a soft spot for animals," Robin chuckles, shaking his head incredulously.
Regina doesn't know why the comment stings her like a rabid bee in the harsh heat of summer, doesn't understand why the same moniker that she is hackled with daily seems to smart with an extra vigor when it comes out of his mouth, but it has her eyes shifting away from him. To the table, the wall, her purse, anywhere but him.
He must take notice because she can feel the warmth of human skin over the fabric of her dress' sleeve and she looks to find Robin's hand rubbing up, down, up down, until she finally meets his stare. "Regina, I'm sorry. I-"
"If that's what you think of me, this isn't going to work. If you believe I'm," Her breath hitches as the moniker sears the tip of her tongue, then huffs, "If you think I'm that, we have no hope in you convincing the rest of the world."
"There's always hope, milady," He notes soberly, then his nose scrunches up in a fashion that Regina would find utterly adorable if not for the irritating words that escape his mouth, "Besides, I'm a really good actor."
She wants to storm out. No, she wants to roll her eyes, send him a penetrating glare, perhaps a curse word or two, and then leave and never speak to this man again. But there are paparazzi outside, anxious to record another "Evil Queen meltdown", and she has a job on the line and Robin's hand is sliding down her arm, grasping her hand...
"Regina," He enunciates, giving her hand a squeeze like he had when they were entering the restaurant.
"I would pull my hand away if it weren't for the people watching us, you know."
"I do," He grins, a stretch of his lips bordering on mischevious, "So, for once, I'm very grateful for those intrusive pests." Even Regina can't help but snigger at that. "I was just trying to jest, to lighten the mood. I know this situation isn't exactly the most comfortable for you-"
"And calling me the 'Evil Queen' would relax me?"
"Never said it wasn't a poor attempt at a jest, milady," Robin breathily chortles, running his free hand through his hand, "I don't think I knew how much it truly bothered you and I apologize profusely, if you ask me to never utter that nickname again, I will respect that."
Regina cannot resist rolling her eyes at that, her shoulders sagging involuntarily with relief, "I don't care if you call me 'Your Majesty', I mean, I don't think I'll be able to stop calling you Thief," Robin snickers along with her and she continues, "I just didn't want you thinking that's me."
"I don't know you," He honestly admits and it's a fact she can't deny, so she nods along. He smiles, gently, "But I'd still like to. So, tell me about this canine of yours."
Regina never thought she'd be someone who could light up at the mention of her pet, but, here she is, her chest puffing with pride and, without being able to see herself, she can imagine a beaming grin brightening her face. "He's a chocolate lab, named Henry..."
"Henry, not a name you hear often these days."
"It's my father's name," She murmurs, mind darting to Henry Mills, the human equivalent, a kind-hearted, mild-mannered man, short in statuesque with gray, balding hair, who is back home in New York. She allows a giggle to escape past her lips, "He, to this day, still teases me about it."
"I'm sure," Robin chuckles, "Not everyday you have a dog named after you. What an honor."
Regina playfully gives him a shove with her free hand, the other still enclosed within his own, "It was when I first came out to L.A. about 10 years ago. I was alone and missing home and had no business taking care of something other than myself, but the run-down, ratty apartment I was living in shared a wall with a woman whose dog had given birth to puppies and.."
"Henry." He supplies for her and she nods, once again.
"He just gave me comfort, still does, actually. It's not the same as having my father here, but, at least it makes it a little less lonely coming home at night."
"So your father doesn't live out here?" Robin asks and Regina shakes her head.
She's about to reply when the waitress returns, her hands filled by a tray carrying their meals. She serves them each and asks if they need anything else. Robin and Regina both decline and that's when Ashley ducks her head, teetering back and forth on her feet before she finally caves and requests if she can have Robin's autograph. He laughs off her shyness, exclaiming "Of course, darling!" and borrowing the Tony's employee's pen, scrawling out a message and signing his name at the bottom. She thanks him profusely and Regina has to purse her lips to keep herself quiet.
Once Ashley skitters away, though, she doesn't withhold her scoff and disentangles their still joined hands and Robin glances at her with amusement, "Is someone jealous?"
"Jealous? Of a flighty fangirl's attention? Hardly."
"Sure, whatever you say," He guffaws, popping a seasoned French fry into his mouth, chewing, swallowing, and then saying, "So your Dad, he doesn't live out here, but your Mum does? Divorced?"
Regina shrugs, pouring a generous ("Too generous", she hears her mother's voice in her ear) amount of Italian vinaigrette over her dish of lettuce, apples, gorgonzola, and other ingredients, "Not divorced, just not.. together. They never really have been. Cora didn't exactly marry for love and my father didn't much care once she gave him a daughter."
"No wonder your mother didn't oppose this... arrangement," Robin comments, almost baffled, and it's not unfathomable that he would be- Regina was raised by Cora Mills and still doesn't understand the woman.
"Honestly, I'm just happy she didn't sell me off to the highest bidder; though I didn't give her the opportunity, coming out here right out of high school." She cringes as she remembers her mother's insistent introductions between Regina and her father's business colleagues. "It's always better to retain important contacts, dear. You never know when they may come in handy," which would usually be followed by a wink, then a holler for Cora's husband.
That's just how it was for the Mills women, at least, before Regina, that is. Men were used, in all manners, to benefit the social standing and gain advantages in life. Cora's mother, Zelena, the grandmother Regina never knew, left her old life (and daughter!) behind, in favor of running off with some technology wizard for the country's time period. Then, Cora, raised by her father of meager means, married Regina's father, heir to a thoroughbred horse breeding farm, not long after graduating high school.
Robin tsks, scrubbing a hand over his face, "If it's success she admires in a man, it's a wonder she didn't matchmake between you and Gold."
Regina shivers at the mere thought of that man touching her in any intimate way, then snorts, "God, no. I'd head back East before I ever let that happen. Besides, I think she wants him for herself, anway."
Robin nearly chokes on his soda, coughing several times as his eyes widen, "Excuse me?"
Regina smirks at his reaction, stabbing at a chunk of apple, "It's a relatively unspoken thing, but they definitely collaborate on much more than a business level."
"And this is okay with you?"
Not really, no. The idea of her mother's sexual life, period, disgusts her, much less with her own boss and, not to mention, she always feels a pang of sympathy for her father back home, but she has no say in who Gold or Cora associate with outside of their business with Regina and she's quite certain Henry is even more content without his "wife" around. So she shrugs and mutters, "It is what it is."
"And I assume Gold isn't a love affair, either?" Robin suggests, licking some marinara sauce off his finger- an action that Regina finds far too distracting and she forces herself to give a curt nod and focus on her food in front of her.
"I think she believes love is weakness," She responds, bringing a forkful of salad up to her mouth to eat and while she chews, she observes Robin's shoulders slump and a brief nod of his head. Regina sips at her iced tea and questions, "You agree?"
"No, well, I think it depends on the type of love," He answers nonchalantly, munching into his sandwich. While he chews, he offers Regina a fry and she shakes her head, despite the delicious aroma of blended spices tempting her tastebuds. "The love of a dog, now that I can understand."
"You have a dog?" Regina's eyebrows lift in surprise and he laughs heartily.
"I do. A poodle mutt."
"Poodle? Really?" She tries, and fails, to stifle the hilarity she finds in his words.
"Real men have poodles, Your Majesty," Robin teases with a mocking glare and he expands further, "We adopted him from an animal shelter back home."
"'We'?"
A slight grimace passes his expression and he bites firmly into a bundle of fries, "My ex and I."
"Ah, the weakness, I suppose?" Regina assumes, smirking, but receives a casual shake of his head, "No? You did say you've been single for the past three years, it'd make sense."
"Marian and I's breakup," He begins, sucking in a breath, "It needed to end. We just grew into different people, that's the problem with primary school sweethearts. I was the one who ended it."
Well, that's a bit of a shock.
Regina's mouth opens and closes, realizing she is wrong, but not knowing how to talk without admitting it. He seems to understand, and take mercy on her this time, speaking again.
"Me being single had everything with finally getting my career off the ground, not Marian. She didn't leave me brokenhearted, nor I her. If anything, it hurt our families more than us."
Regina wants to investigate that point further, suddenly has several questions pertaining to this man, who she has known for less than a week, his past, his present, and, for the next year, their future, but, unlike her mother, she respects boundaries and remains silent. Instead, she follows the pause with a lighthearted, "And you kept the dog, whose name is still left blank to me."
"Oh, I was the one who wanted the mutt to begin with, there was no way I would allow Roland to leave my side, luckily Marian concurred."
"Roland? And you thought 'Henry' was an unusual name selection?"
Robin laughs, conceding easily, "He was named after Roland Orzabal of the-"
"Wouldn't have pegged you for a new wave kind of guy. You seem much too.. folksy."
"I wish I could argue with you, milady," And she believes him, notices the glint in his eye as he says it, knows he already likes sparring with her, "But, indeed, it wasn't my choice- that was the arrangement. I wanted the dog, so Marian chose the name. I'm bowled over that you know of Tears for Fears."
"Who doesn't know 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World'?" She fails to mention that the only version of the song that she owns is a cover by mainstream artist, Lorde.
"Well, colour me impressed, Your Majesty."
Regina bows her head, hoping the flush she feels internally at his words doesn't flame her cheeks. Why the hell should she care if she's impressed him?
"You know," She begins, desperately trying to distract herself from her reactions to her co-star, "With both of us having dogs, that could set up a good situation for this pre-shooting plot."
"Haven't a clue what you're talking about," Robin throws her a cheeky grin, then extends a fry to her again, "Please eat this, it is scrumptious and I know you'd enjoy it a bloody lot more than that rabbit food."
Regina cocks her head to the side, assaulting him with a withering gaze, "And what makes you think you know my appetite so well? I thought you didn't know me."
"Because I doubt even the most self-controlled person could deny chips perfectly charred to a crisp."
She glances between Robin and the French fry, one temptation to another, it appears. She takes a chance, leaning forward and biting into the fry as he holds it, moans as the savvy combination of flavors caresses her palette, and then swallows hard, meeting his fierce stare.
"That'll be a great shot," He mumbles, breaking character for the first time during their lunch, handing her the remaining piece of fry and she scoffs, attempting to adapt her usual confidence into this situation.
"I'm nothing if not resourceful, you'd do well not to forget that, Thief."
He smirks and the tension has been abated for the time being, thankfully, "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Your Majesty."
They finish their lunch, bringing the topic back to music (she discovers he's into much more acoustic sounds, like Crosby, Stills, & Nash and Keb' Mo', while she admits her affinity for her birth decade of the 80's, from Bowie to Journey), they briefly discuss Robin's home country (the few times Regina has visited, how she'd love to return one day and his occasional bout of homesickness, despite the 'tiff' with his family), and how they, each, unraveled and embraced their love of acting (Regina, from the age of a toddler, putting on skits to garner her parents' attention, then, later, being entranced by performances of the "Old Hollywood" greats like Elizabeth Taylor, while Robin bloomed late, finding a passion for theatre in high school, on a fateful day when he was asked to step out from the set design crew and fill in for one of the "stars" of a show), and "pay" for their meal- Gold had had their tab covered in advance- then make their way to leave.
"Ready?" Robin whispers in her ear, his hand traveling to her lower back, almost guiding her to Tony's entrance.
She wets her lips quickly, then retrieves her sunglasses, masking her eyes, which, no doubt, are already hazy from the small frenzy that has been clamoring outside of the restaurant, "If they want to see their 'Queen', well, here she is."
"Just ignore them," He advises her and she thinks she imagines the timid growl that peeks through his words.
She doesn't answer, just walks ahead and he follows suit, his hand keeping purchase above her rear.
They walk outside to a doubled amount of photographers than before. "Can you respond to the rumors about Killian Jones being hired for Heroes & Villains?!" "Robin, Ed Sheeran said he's a big fan! What do you think?!" "Regina, were you really replaced by Cate Blanchett for Cinderella for being too convincing?!" "Will we be seeing more of you two?!" "You're an attractive couple! Give us a smile!"
A jumbled mess of questions, some flattering, some insulting, some downright amusing (Regina never even auditioned for Cinderella, is under a strict contract with Golden Spun Studios), but she does answer the simple "How was lunch?!" with a "It was wonderful, as it always is."
She and Robin sign a few autographs and snap a few pictures with the minute group of fans that have gathered, receiving hugs and giving their thanks to the enthusiasts for their support, before hopping into the SUV, each blowing out a huff of relief.
They turn to one another and share a muted laugh and the sentence slips out of Regina's mouth before she process her words, "I was thinking next time we could take the dogs for a walk." Robin's brows raise, obviously accosted by Regina's atypical, in this circumstance, behavior of taking the inititive. She quickly amends her suggestion, "It'll look good for the 'Celebs - They're Just Like You!' magazine section."
"I think it's absolutely brilliant," He concurs with haste, a smile forming on his lips, highlighting those devilish dips of his dimples, "It's also nice to know you're not too sick of me yet."
Regina nibbles at the inside of her cheek, hoping the way her heart is thumping against her ribcage is from the adrenaline of the public hoopla they just endured and nothing else, managing an eyeroll as she mumbles, "You wish. Now, let's ring Gold and give him an update."
