Laws of Attraction

by grayautumnsky13

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

3. Chapter 3

For the first time in months, they'd found themselves with nothing to do.

The semester was over and as Christmas drew closer, their peers and professors slowly, but surely made their way home for the holiday, leaving their little town practically vacant. Despite her boredom, Regina had been in a good mood that day–a mood that absolutely stemmed from the fact that after their exams, their cohort had gone out for drinks and she was the only one not spending their winter break scouring the course catalog for new career possibilities because unlike the rest of them, there wasn't even the slightest possibility that she'd failed. So, she'd made the executive decision to splurge on cab fare and take a trip into the city, and he was all too glad for the distraction.

Normally, this would have been the sort of outing he excused himself from–shopping was generally something Regina and Mal enjoyed together while he found anything else to do–but Mal was occupied preparing for an annual family ski trip up in Maine, and there was little else for him to do. It was cold and snowy, and his only other offer was helping Granny to clean out the grease traps, so Regina's suggestion of spending the day shopping earned no argument from him.

It hadn't been terrible, though he'd gone into the arrangement with the lowest of expectations. Once they arrived, they walked up and down the crowded streets and did a little window shopping. They didn't have much money to spend, but Regina wanted to get something for her father, and begrudgingly admitted that meant she needed to get her mother something, too, otherwise, she'd never hear the end of it. They'd gotten some cocoa as they browsed, and finally, made their way into one of the department stores. Robin hung back and watched as she perused the aisles, taking more than an hour to select a pair of black leather gloves lined with wool for her father, and had almost gleefully explained that one of his favorite winter activities was horseback riding on snowy trails, but it was difficult to find gloves thin enough to properly grip the reins and keep his hands warm. Then, as they made their way toward the check out, she grabbed a bottle of perfume that was tagged with a big yellow sale sticker. She didn't smell it or even read the label, and she made no effort to explain why she'd chosen that particular perfume–and that made him chuckle. And when they'd gotten up to the checkout, she paid extra to have the gloves gift wrapped in a bright metallic green paper and topped with a festive and glittery bow, but when the salesman asked about the perfume, she made a quick comment about having wrapping paper at home–wrapping paper that he knew to be left over from a candle Granny had given them as a Christmas present the previous year.

The rest of the afternoon was spent wandering in and out of stores. He got a new winter hat and Regina bought a scarf for herself, and her brow arched as a coy little grin tugged up at the corner of her mouth rounded the corner toward the lingerie department, and he'd offered a low and hearty laugh as he asked if the lingerie was meant to be a gift for her or for him.

They had dinner at a little cafe and spent too much on spaghetti, bread sticks and tiramisu, and by the time their cab arrived back at their apartment, all he could think about was submerging himself in a hot bath… preferably a bath he'd share with Regina.

"A letter arrived for you two," Granny calls out, almost as soon they pull open the diner's door. "It arrive quite ceremoniously, too," she adds as Regina hands him their bags and goes to the counter. "It arrived by limo."

"The letter?"

Granny nods. "A man got out and hand delivered it."

"A man in a limo brought us a letter?"

Granny laughs. "Said I had to personally hand it to one of you."

Regina's brow arches and then a smile pulls onto her lips as she turns the envelope for him to see, and on the front their names are written in Mal's handwriting. "Always so dramatic."

He laughs and nods, wanting to say it's one of the things he loves about her, but he stops himself before the words even reach his lips. "What does she have to say? Isn't she in Maine?"

Regina nods. "Skiing."

"Thank you," Robin says as he grins at Granny. "We'll just go–"

"The limo is still here."

"What?"

He looks from Granny to Regina and then back again. "Still here?"

Granny shrugs. "The driver is parked out back, and taking up half my parking spaces." Then a grin pulls onto her lips. "And true to form, Mal gave him more than enough cash to make up for any profits I lose because of it."

"That was thoughtful," Regina murmurs as her finger slips beneath the fold of the envelope–and then looks back to Robin, nodding to one of the unoccupied tables.

She slides into the booth and he drops their bags down opposite her, then slips in beside her, leaning in to look at the letter.

"Good news! It's far too snowy for my family to make it up to Maine for their ski trip. Stefan went up a few days ago for a little alone time with Rose, and my parents are at some dinky little inn in Vermont, and are under the impression that I'm stuck out in the wilderness photographing snow-covered branches or something somewhere between here and there. I've got a room reserved in the city at one of my father's hotels. You'll need to check in at the front desk. I've reserved the room in Robin's name. My driver will take you. Everyone's under the impression that it's your anniversary. The room is yours (and by yours, I mean ours) for the weekend) and there's really no need to pack an overnight bag. I've got everything we'll need here. Hurry! I'll be waiting for you!

All my love–

Mal"

Robin laughs as Regina's brow arches, and then somewhat awkwardly, they slide out from the booth. Granny is watching them with a curious gaze, and Regina stumbles through an explanation of how Mal arranged a little surprise getaway for them for their anniversary. Granny's eyes narrow, but she doesn't say anything, and as they walk up the stairs to their apartment, she calls out that she hopes they'll enjoy themselves.

Regina flicks on the light and Robin sets down their bags on the couch, and for a moment, they both look around a bit aimlessly.

"Do you really think we don't need to bring anything?"

"That's what she said…"

"I know, but–" Regina bites down on her lip. "She'd know, right?"

Robin nods. "When has Mal ever not been prepared for… well, anything."

"True."

"And it's not like we're going to Timbuktu."

"Right…"

"So…"

"We should go." Robin chuckles softly as Regina looks around again, and then shrugs–and then a coy little grin edges onto her lips as two of her finger reach down and pluck up the small bag that contains the lingerie she purchased earlier that day. Her eyes widen as she catches his gaze, and then a little smirk forms over her lips. "What? This is for all of us," she tells him as she flicks off the lights and grabs his hand.

A half an hour later, the limo pulls up to the hotel and the driver wishes them a happy anniversary. They go inside and check in, asking for the room in Robin's name and the concierge grins, letting them know that Millicent von Drachen personally inspected the room to guarantee that it was to their liking–and Regina could barely stifle her giggle.

Robin takes the key and they get into the elevator, choosing the top floor. When they arrive, they find the floor split between only four rooms and from the foyer that the rooms share, it's obvious that each room has an impressive view of the city's skyline.

"That's bloody gorgeous."

"It is," Regina agrees. "It's so…"

"Fancy."

"Mmhmm," she nods, peering down the hall to their room. "I doubt we'll be enjoying it much."

At that, he laughs, then nods, and together they make their way to the room.

"I was beginning to worry," Mal coos as soon as the door opens.

They don't see her at first, but the room somehow matches her tone–candles are lit and the lights are on low, and to his surprise, the curtains are pulled back, showing off the glittering skyline. Momentarily, he glances behind him, ensures that Regina's in the room before closing the door behind them and turning the lock.

"It's too bad I didn't know you were shopping in the city, we could've started much sooner."

"We didn't–"

"Oh…"

Mal grins as her chin tips up and it's clear that she's pleased with herself. "Surprise."

Surprise, indeed.

For a moment, all he can do is stare–and given the way Regina's rooted in place, she's having difficult doing much else, too.

Mal is laying at the center of the bed–a bed wider than any he's ever seen–and propped up on her elbows, grinning at them. Her hair is pulled back and knotted in bun low on her neck. There are a few curled strands framing her face and her lips are painted red. She wears a long string of pearls that she's rolling absently between her fingers, and the rest of her is naked–totally and completely bare.

"But I suppose it worked out. I had a day at the spa downstairs. I had my hair and nails done, and a facial, and I'm certain my skin's never felt softer or smoother," she grins as she looks between them. "Come and feel."

Regina drops the bag on the dresser and cross the room to her, joining her on the bed. She says something as she passes him, though he's not sure what it was or if it was even directed at him. He watches as Regina climbs into bed with Mal, her hand skimming over Mal's side. He catches a glimpse of their smiles just before they kiss and he watches as Regina's hand moves to Mal's breast. She mumbles something and Mal laughs as she tugs at Regina's sweater, then a moment later the sweater lays on the floor. Mal unhooks Regina's bra and peels it slowly down her arms, leaving Regina in her plaid pencil skirt–and then, they each pull away and look at him.

"Are you… joining us?"

"She wasn't kidding," Regina tells him. "She's soft and smooth and… freshly waxed."

He swallows hard as his eyes trail up Mal's legs and he watches as Mal's legs part. "Uh, the… the window…"

"We're thirty-five floors up from the ground. No one can see us." Mal tells him as a grin pulls onto her lips. "And if they can, well… lucky for them."

He laughs softly and nods, quickly crossing the room and joining them on the bed. He pulls off his sweater and loosens his belt, watching as Regina stretches out beside Mal, focusing her attention on her breasts, sucking at one while kneading at the other.

Mal's hand slips into his pants and she cups him, her eyes slowly moving up to meet his. "Kiss me."

He doesn't reply, but happily obliges. His lips crash down onto hers as she stretches out beside her, his hand resting on her stomach. Her tongue slips between lips. His hand trails downward, slipping between her legs and finding that she's already incredibly wet. He drags his fingers slowly over her, opening his eyes for just a moment, watching as Mal's fingers work at the zipper of Regina's skirt.

"Wait." Robin stops as Regina pulls back, her brow creasing, indicating she's just as confused as he is–and then a grin pulls onto Mal's lips. "I've just been thinking about this all day and–" she chuckles softly as she looks between them. "I know exactly how I want this round to go."

"This round," Regina repeats, arching an eyebrow and grinning with understanding. "So it's safe to assume that we'll… all have an opportunity to have things go our way."

Mal grins as she looks to Regina. "That is why we have a room for the whole weekend," she tells her. "Aside from meals, I don't see any reason the three of us should do anything else." She shrugs. "Unless the two of you made other plans?" She laughs when neither he nor Regina reply. "Good," she says, very matter-of-factly as she sits up. "So, I figured we'd start in bed, then order some desert, then see where the night takes us… and the morning… and then afternoon and–"

Regina laughs. "Well, if we had plans before, we don't now."

"So, what I'm hearing," he says, looking between them. "Is that Regina and I are far over-dressed for the occasion."

"Entirely," Mal agrees. "And I'm afraid, I'm… a bit further than the two of you," she tells them, grinning slyly. "I, might've had a little fun on my own as I was waiting." Robin swallows as he thinks of it–thinking of Mal stretched out on the bed with open legs as her fingers rubbed at her clit–and he feels his cock twitch. "The two of you should… catch up."

He and Regina exchange quick glances as they sit back on the bed. He edges himself closer to her, letting his hand slip up over her jaw as his fingers tangle in her hair. She parts his lips with her tongue and he swirls his tongue around hers as she shifts closer, reaching for his cock.

Regina's fingers form around him, moving slowly up and down his shaft. She kisses him harder and her hand pumps faster–and he hears Mal let out a little moan. Smiling against Regina's lips, he lips his eyes, watching as Mal fingers herself, her eyes focused on them.

Closing his eyes again, his attention turns back to Regina. His hand settles on her hip as he turns her, opening up her legs. Hand slips from her hip to her stomach, then pushes downward until he reaches her warm, wet center. Two fingers push through against the sleek skin and his thumb rubs at her clit–and then, as his fingers push inside of her, her breath catches at the back of her throat.

"Mmm…"

It's Mal who moans, and Regina giggles into his kiss.

"You two are gorgeous, together," she tells them, her voice husky as she pleasures herself. "And so fucking sexy."

Regina nips at his bottom lip as she breaks the kiss, drawing in a long breath as she looks to Mal. "You look like you're enjoying yourself."

"I am," she admits. "But I think I'd be enjoying myself just a bit more if I were over the with you two rather than over here all by myself."

"Well, who says you can't be?"

Mal laughs softly as comes toward them, sitting back with her legs folded underneath herself. Regina presses a kiss to his shoulder as she looks up at Mal, waiting for her to join in–and they both watch as a slow grin edges onto Mal's lips.

"I spent the whole day thinking about all the ways I wanted you."

"Did you?"

"Mm," Mal nods. "I thought about what it'd be like to watch the two of you fuck each other silly, and what it'd be like to have Regina kneeling over my face while you fucked me, riding your cock as I fuck Regina with my fingers…and then… I spent an awful lot of time thinking about what it'd be like to feel both of you, at the same time."

"Oh?"

"Regina's soft lips sucking and licking while you fuck me."

"Then I suppose we should get you on your back," Robin says, reaching for her and hooking his arm around her waist, pulling her in and twisting her down onto the bed between them. "I didn't mention how beautiful you look tonight, by the way," he says, laying down beside her and stroking his fingers over her arm. "But I meant to."

"You were just so struck by my stunningness that you forgot?"

"Yes," he admits, chuckling softly as he looks to Regina who smiles back at him. "That happens quite a bit."

"Does it?"

"Mm, it does," Regina confirms. "But it's not surprising. You're always stunning."

"You flatter me."

"I want to do much more than that," Regina says, shrugging her brows.

"Much more," he agrees, leaning in and kissing her shoulder–and for a moment, he can't believe the turn this night has taken and how a few hours before the only thing he'd had to look forward to was a bath in a too-tight tub and some leftover spaghetti.

Regina sits up as he shifts himself over Mal, drawing up her knees and rubbing hand over her legs. She parts them and takes a breath, smiling as she waits and he smirks back at her as he teases her, sliding his cock against her and letting its head bump against her clit. Regina settles herself at Mal's side, turning her head and kissing her as her hand rubs at her inner thigh.

After a few more teasing strokes, he pushes inside of her, watching his cock slowly disappear.

Mal lets out a content sigh and Regina smiles against her mouth.

Mal is warm and soft, and he holds himself still for a moment, enjoying the way she feels. He rubs his hands over her knees and watches as Regina's lips trail away from Mal's. She kisses down over her chin and neck, then to her clavicle, her tongue swirling slowly around her nipple before she kisses down her torso, eventually settling at his side.

He grins over at her as he pushes himself back into Mal and his breath catches as Regina leans in, swiping her tongue along his cock as he pulls himself back–and she giggles as their eyes meet momentarily before she turns her full attention to Mal.

He slips in and out of her gradually speeding up then slowing himself down–and every time he noticed the open curtains, he feels an extra little jolt of excitement.

Regina's tongue focuses on Mal's clit, sucking and swirling around it. But every now and then, she catches him, licking the length of him as he pulls out and pushes back in before her attention returns to Mal. Robin's hand reaches for her, absently groping at first until he finds her ass, rubbing his hand over at it gently. Mal notices and grins her approval, and when two of his fingers slip inside of Regina, they both feel her breath catch.

Mal is the first to come, and he slows his pace as she comes down from her high and as he withdraws from her–still hard and aching to come–Regina takes him in her mouth. She sucks him to orgasm and it's only then that he notices Mal has shifted herself between Regina's legs. He watches as Regina's body tenses up and her breath becomes ragged as she clutches at the sheet–and he smiles as he watches her come.

For awhile, they all just lay there together, enjoying the snowy cityscape–Regina cuddled up to Mal and he on the opposite side of her, resting his head atop hers as he holds Mal's hand–and for what seems like the millionth time, he finds himself thinking how lucky he is to have them.

"We should eat," Mal murmurs, leaning over and reaching for the menu. "Did the two of you have a proper dinner?"

"Spaghetti," Regina murmurs.

"At um… that little place… it's on a corner, the one with the checkered table clothes."

Mal's brow arches as she looks to Regina.

"Albertos."

"Ah. Did you have the breadsticks?"

"Mm, I could have made a meal out of them."

"And judging by the prices on that menu, the two of you split that spaghetti."

"We did," Robin laughs. "But that meant we also could split dessert."

"The tiramisu?"

"Of course–it's supposed to be world famous."

Mal laughs, "Some gangster was murdered there in the thirties." Robin blinks as Regina lifts her head. "What?" She asks, her eyes widening as she looks between them. "It's not like I murdered him. I just read about it." Regina laughs as her head rests back on her shoulder. "So, if I ordered lobster, you wouldn't be interested?"

"I can always eat," Robin supplies.

"And we did eat early," Regina murmurs. "And contrary to what everyone says, the tiramisu was not worth the price."

"No," Mal agrees. "It's not. The cannoli isn't bad, though."

"Good to know."

"Mm–" She looks up from the menu. "How do you feel about cream puffs– or cheesecake. I can't decide." Before either of them can answer, she shuts the menu. "Never mind, I'll get both–and I'll add on some good tiramisu and we can all pick at each other's desserts."

She gets out of bed and pads to the bathroom and when she returns, she's wearing a fluffy white terrycloth robe embroidered with the hotel's logo–and two more are draped over her arm.

"I feel a little bad about this," she says, "But I wanted a third robe so I threw a small tantrum because there was only one in the bathroom." She grimaces. "They're all used to my mother's fits so–" She shrugs and holds one out to each of them. "Put these on, then one of you can order."

Regina frowns as she nuzzles against him. "I'm perfectly comfortable like this."

Robin grins as Mal's brow arches. "Well, the waiter who brings up our food is going to get an incredible tip."

"Oh," she laughs, her cheeks flushing as she sits up, "I hadn't thought of that."

Mal sits on the foot of the bed and draws up her feet, watching as they tie the robes around themselves–and then, a coy little grin edges onto her lips. "So, Regina, you get to decide the details of our after dinner romp."

Robin grins as he watches Regina's brows arch in consideration and a small chuckle escapes him as he takes the menu and reaches for the phone, excite to see where the weekend takes them.

Regina grins as she turns her head on the pillow, smiling as Robin comes out of the bathroom, a gust of steam following him as he towel dries his hair. Her eyes linger over his backside, and she pouts a little at the realization he's put on his boxer shorts–and then, as he opens the drawer and pulls out a pair of brown argyle socks and an undershirt, he catches her gaze in the mirror.

"You're awake."

"I am," she nods, as her eyes shift to Mal. "She's not though."

Robin smiles as he turns back to them, his eyes falling to Mal who's cuddled up against Regina. Her arm is draped across her stomach and her head rests on her shoulder, her cheek scrunched against her. Regina's fingers absently rub over her wrist and hand, drawing little circles, hearts and swirls–and more than anything, she's content to lay there with her and waste away the morning…

"You two look content."

"I am," Regina nods. "And I think she is."

"I think she is, too," Robin murmurs as he sits down on the edge of the bed. "She seems happy, all things considered."

"I hope she is. It's been nice having her here with us, it's been–"

"Like old times."

Regina nods. "Yeah."

"I want her to stay, too," Robin admits. "I think we could make it work."

"I know we could," Regina sighs. "I just… don't know that she does."

"Well," he muses as a smile draws on to his lips. "We'll just have to convince her, and you and I are both quite good at convincing."

"I think I'm going to stay here with her today," she says, looking down at Mal. "I know she's bored when we're not here and there's not much she can do confined here."

"No," he murmurs. "You should stay in or maybe, the two of you could go somewhere, a little day trip of sorts."

"Maybe," she murmurs as she looks back to him and grins. "I'll see what she wants to do when she wakes up." A soft chuckle escapes her as she looks back to him. "I might have to have you call Belle and let her know I won't be in. I meant to but–"

"You're a bit… detained."

"Yes."

"I'll do you one better, I'll swing by your office on the way to mine."

"And you'll check to see if those medical records have arrived?"

Robin nods. "And if they haven't I'll remind Belle to call you as soon as they do."

"I'd lean in and kiss you for your thoughtfulness, but–"

"You're a bit detained."

"Yes," she laughs as her eyes fall momentarily to Mal. "And gladly so." She sighs and bites down on her lip as she looks back to Robin. "You know, you could stay with us."

"I can't."

"But you could."

"Regina–"

"I'm serious," she cuts in. "Play hookie."

"I can't. You know I can't."

Her eyes narrow. "But you can. What do you really have to do, anyway?" His lips part to explain, but she speaks before he has the chance. "Spend the morning in bed with us being lazy."

"I would love to do that, but Gold is in court all morning."

She frowns. "Oh."

"And if he's in court–"

"His office is left unoccupied."

"Precisely."

Taking a long breath, she sighs and tires to sort out her thoughts. She shouldn't want the District Attorney conspiring against her client. She shouldn't want Leopold Perrault to have done something stupid and sloppy, and have lawyers and judges paid off to ensure the verdict would go his way. She shouldn't want it because she couldn't control it and there was no way of knowing how deep the Perraults influence ran or how many pockets their money lined–yet, the thought of a trial made her ill. She didn't want Robin to have to go through it and she didn't want Mal to have to go through it, and if they could prove some sort of conspiracy against her or uncover some sort of illegal bribe, it could all go away.

"And you think you can get past his secretary? From what Belle says, she's like a Rottweiler."

Robin chuckles and nods. "That is an apt description of her, and she has a tendency to take long lunches when Gold is out for the day."

"I see."

Robin nods. "So, I figure I can get in and have a look around." She watches as a sly little grin tugs up onto his lips. "I, um, found my lock-picking kit, just in case." Regina laughs out before he can even finish and his smile broadens when she does. "I found it in an old box of things from our apartment."

"I still can't believe you'd break into the restaurant whenever you forgot your keys after closing."

"And how else was I supposed to get in?"

"Well, you could've called me–"

His brow arches. "And if you were with me."

"I was with you once, and even then, you could've called Granny. She lived across the hall."

"I know that and I also know that she loved to lecture me–"

"When you deserved it."

Robin's eyes roll. "It was just easier–and more thrilling."

"You're ridiculous."

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to her lips. "You complain, but you love me."

"I do," she nods as he pulls away. "I very much do–and I hope your little mission is successful," she tells him, looking down at Mal momentarily. "I'm not sure she can handle a trial."

"I don't think I can," he admits as he looks to Mal. "But she's… she's just…" He sighs as he looks to Regina. "She's so different than she was."

"The result of years of being broken down."

"I know. It's just–"

He pauses and his jaw tightens–and it's a feeling she understands. So often since Mal returned to their lives they've found themselves frustrated with themselves and feeling useless. None of this had to happen, yet it had; and now, they had to try to find ways to make it up to her and hope that they could. Mal would never admit that they'd fallen short and she'd never blame them, but there were so many little things they should've picked up on. But they bought her excuses and in the end, when it came down to it, they hadn't tried to fight for her, and though she didn't know what that might've entailed or how they'd have found her when she was sailing all over the world, there had to have been a way–a way to stop what had inevitably happened.

"The other night at dinner, she pretended to have a headache."

"I remember."

"That headache started as soon as the trial was brought up."

"I noticed that, too."

"It must be hard, worrying about losing your entire life to–"

"She won't though," Regina cuts in. "I won't let that happen. I won't let her down again." Taking breath, her eyes sink closed and she thinks about the morning they'd awoken to a goodbye letter from Mal. By the time they'd gotten it, she was long gone, on a boat in the middle of the ocean sailing to… somewhere. "We could've contacted her parents."

"And said what?" He asks, knowing exactly what she's talking about. "What would we have told them?

"That we were–"

"Her lovers?"

"No," she sighs. "Concerned friends?"

"And they'd have said they'd pass along a message that she'd never reply to."

"Right…"

"I've gone over it a thousand times, too, Regina. I did it then and I've done it now. We can't change it, we can only do better going forward."

"I just–"

"I know," he murmurs. "I feel terrible about it, too."

"I want to ask her if she'll stay. I know we said we'd give her time and respect her decision, but…" Her voice trails off and she looks down at Mal. "It's just hard to imagine going back to… not having her here."

"I know," he nods. "In spite of the circumstances and how jarring her return was, it sometimes… feels like she's always been here, like she never left." Regina watches as he reaches out and tucks Mal's hair behind her ear, grinning at the clearer view of her face. "I think she wants to stay."

"I think she wants to… not feel like our dirty little secret."

"That still hurts."

"I know."

"I never meant–"

"I know," Regina nods. "And I think she knows it, or at least I hope she does."

Robin grins. "As I said earlier, it's a good thing you and I care so convincingly."

"How do you think the kids would react?"

"To Mal?"

"To Mal being our girlfriend."

"Ah," he murmurs. "I… don't know, honestly. I can't imagine them not liking her, but then I am quite bias."

"With good reason."

"She was always good with children."

Regina nods and smiles. "And Henry and Roland are both so easy going."

"They'll be friends in no time."

"If she stays."

"Right. If."

Drawing in a breath, she peers down at Mal and considers how they might spend their morning. It occurs to her that the day can't be a total wash, and that even though she's mostly waiting on the medical records to arrive, there's other work to be done–work she needs to be with Mal to do.

"You know, since I've got her all to myself, we should make a trip to the bank," she tells him. "She has those pictures tucked away in a safe deposit box."

"That's going to be difficult."

"I'm dreading it," she admits. "There's a part of me that wishes they could stay put away forever."

He nods in agreement. "And something tells me they're going to be horrific."

"I've the same feeling," she sighs. "I wish that… that I could just spend the day in bed with her, making her forget all of this."

"You could, you know," he says as a smile draws on to his lips. "You know, it is your obligation to take care of your client."

"You're right," she murmurs as her eyes narrow. "You may be on to something."

Robin laughs and leans in, kissing her as he rises from the edge of the bed. "I need to finish getting dressed," he tells her. "I'm going to take my clothes and finish getting ready in the guest room. I don't want to wake her."

"Okay, and you'll remember to talk to Belle for me?"

"I will," he nods. "And I wish you luck today."

"I think you need more luck than me. You'll call if you find anything or… just… just call me once it's done, even if you don't. I just want to make sure that you're alright and…" She sighs as her eyes roll. "Just call me."

"I will. I promise."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," he grins as he grabs the suit hanging on the closet door. "I'll see you later."

"I look forward to it," she replies, watching as he goes–and then, she turns her attention back to Mal, dropping a quick kiss to her hair as she nuzzles a bit closer.

Mal bites down on her lip as she sits down on the couch, curling her feet underneath herself. She cranes her look for a better view of the kitchen, and just barely, she can see Robin. He's standing with his back to her and she can hear the pan sizzling.

There's a record playing just low enough to hear and candles are lit around the room, and her stomach flutters softly–this is a first for them.

That morning, Regina left for Connecticut for her father's 50th birthday party–a decision she'd struggled with for weeks. She hadn't been home since starting law school, and her mother had made no attempt to hide her feelings about her daughter's life choices. She'd entertained the idea of sending her to a university–after all, that's where girls like Regina Mills could snag a young doctor–but it wasn't long after she started, that her mother regretted the choice. Regina had been a serious student, even then. She chose a history major and a minor in philosophy–areas stocked with young men with low earning potential. She didn't join a sorority like Cora encouraged, instead taking up political causes and volunteering, and when she met Robin, Cora decided he was the root of the problem and that he'd encouraged Regina's poor choices–and then, the final straw came when Regina announced to her family, not only was she going on to law school, she and Robin were engaged.

She and her father remained close throughout–and he tried to be supportive when he could–so when he personally called and asked for Regina to attend the party, it'd been difficult for her to decline, even if it meant spending a weekend in her mother's company, as well.

So, for the first time since she'd come into their lives, she and Robin were alone. Sure, there'd been little moments scattered throughout their time together, things they'd attended as a pair, hikes that Regina refused to even consider accompanying them on, moments where Regina was at the library or running an errand–but this was different because at no point would Regina walk through the door.

Her stomach fluttered again–she was both excited and nervous, and she wasn't sure how this would go, if it would work for she and Robin to spend a few days as a couple rather than a part of… whatever it was the three of them were.

And she worried that at the end of it, he'd realize that he'd just gotten caught up in the excitement, that he and Regina were better off without her…

"Are you sure I can't help?" she calls. "You know I love to cook."

"It's almost ready."

"I know, but–"

"I've got it."

She sighs and nods, looking around the apartment as a soft giggle escapes her–a giggle that would have been embarrassing had anyone heard it.

"You can pick a wine though."

Chewing at her lip, she cranes her neck again, trying unsuccessfully to see into the kitchen. "That's a difficult task, considering I don't know what we're having to eat."

"Oh," he murmurs. "I wanted it to be a surprise… so if I ruin it, you'll be none the wiser."

She laughs. "I'm pretty sure I can tell if something is burned or undercooked or… just bad, regardless of what it is."

"That's true," he calls out. "But I snagged a back up… tray of something from Granny's freezer."

"You stole a lasagna?"

"I didn't say that!"

Again, she laughs. "You didn't need to."

"Fine," he says, sighing loudly. "It doesn't appear I'll be needing it, so I'll admit that, yes, I stole a tray of lasagna from Granny's freezer." He pauses. "I left cash on her counter."

"You do realize that's not quite the same as paying for it?"

"She doesn't mind."

Mal's eyes roll. "You're lucky she finds you so damn adorable, you know that."

"I do."

Laughing softly, she shakes her head. "So… can you at least tell me if it's beef or chicken or fish or–"

"Two of those things."

She blinks. "Surf and turf?"

"Perhaps!"

She sighs as she gets up to the couch, wandering toward the wine rack and skimming her fingers over the bottles. "That's not really helpful."

"I know."

Again, her eyes roll as she draws in a deep breath. "You're such an ass."

"But you love me, anyway."

A grin pulls onto her lips as her cheeks warm and her stomach flutters–she does love him, she loves both of them. They've all admitted it here and there, but never consistently, all understanding that their time together was limited and their relationship was one that had to be concealed. "Perhaps."

"And it's ready," he calls out. "Have you picked a wine?"

Biting down on her lip, and she realizes there's little chance of going wrong. So, she chooses a cabernet sauvignon and grabs the wine cork–and when Robin comes out of the kitchen, he's carrying two plates and wearing an apron over his shirt and tie.

"You dressed up."

He nods. "Well, this is a first date… of sorts."

"I feel underdressed," she says, looking down at her black sweater and black-and-white polka dot skirt. "You should've–"

"You look gorgeous," he tells her. "But then, you could wear a sack and look radiant"

"You flatter me–and you lie," she laughs as he presses a kiss to her cheek and then sets the plates down on the table. "But that looks incredible."

A proud smile edges onto his lips. "Thank you," he says as he pulls the apron off and tosses it onto the armchair beside the couch. "I labored over a hot stove for hours."

"Poor you."

"Regina made us dessert–" He pauses and chuckles softly. "Actually, she bought it then decorated it."

"Do I get to know what it is?"

He nods, "She got this adorable little key lime pie," he tells her, "The decorated it with whipped cream and slices of lime."

"That is adorable."

"She really is, isn't she?"

"So, tell me what you made," she asks as he pulls out her chair. "I mean, I can see it but–"

"Well, that evening Regina and I went to Albertos, we saw someone order this and it looked incredible, so I asked Granny about it."

"Ah–"

"I'm quite proud of this because she didn't have a recipe for me to follow."

"So, this is–"

"All me."

"Aw," she grins. "I feel so special."

"As you should." He sits down beside her and grins, his blue eyes sparkling in a way that makes her stomach flutter. "So, what you'll find before you," he begins, clearing his throat and picking up his fork. "Is scampi-style surf and turf." She grins and nods along. "We have tenderloin steak and scallops, seared in butter and seasoned with lemon zest, garlic, basil, white wine, and a healthy dash of pepper sauce to give it a little kick."

"I think you've missed your calling," she tells him. "You shouldn't be a lawyer, you should be applying for a chef position at the Waldorf."

"You can't say that if you haven't tried it."

She grins. "Tell me about the asparagus."

"Oh," he murmurs. "That was all I'd planned for my impressive culinary speech," he admits. "I, uh, rolled them in lemon juice and tossed them into the oven."

She laughs. "Okay, maybe lawyering is meant for you."

"I would hope so," he admits. "I've drained an unhealthy amount of time, energy and money into it if it's not what I'm meant to do."

"I'm sure it is," she tells him, softening a bit as she gets lost in his eyes. "And I am sure this will be incredible– even the asparagus."

He laughs and nods, reaching for the wine cork, and she settles back her in chair, watching as he pours the wine she selected. They slip into an easy conversation about a book he's reading thanks to her story about the mobster killed at the restaurant he took Regina to–and from there, they spend the course of the meal talking about some of their favorite reads.

She grins as she cuts into her steak, listening to him talking about a collection of news stories and commentary that he'd found tucked away in the library about the notorious Purple Gang in 1920s Detroit and she tells him about about a novel she'd recently read about Elizabeth Bathory–and they laugh over the common, somewhat disturbing theme they seem to enjoy in literature.

From there the conversation drifts to movies, and it's so reminiscent of that first dinner they shared, downstairs in the diner with Regina. Yet somehow, it's also entirely different.

There's an intimacy and warmth–and her worries of inadequacy and awkwardness slowly but surely fade away.

The conversation again shifts slightly to a conversation on poetry. She always knew they had similar tastes, but they'd never really talked about it, admittedly on his part because if it didn't have something to do with whatever course he was currently taking, he wouldn't allow himself the time for it. They talked about their favorite pieces from Whitman and Thoreau, they shared bits of memorized passages from Wordsworth and Tennyson, and she confessed those poems had inspired her to take up photography.

He listened and asked questions, and made her hobby seem so important–and all throughout their conversation, she couldn't help but note how well-suited they were for one another.

It was something that struck her from time to time with both Robin and Regina–and it was always something different. But being with them just felt so natural. They both complemented and contrasted her in different ways that made them all compatible–and still, after years of being with them, it took her aback.

After dinner, they'd moved to the couch, delaying desert until they had room for it. She felt a bit bad about delaying it, noting that she probably should've drank less wine, especially knowing Regina had gone to the trouble of arranging it–and Robin just smiled, reminding her that Regina would understand and they did have the rest of the night in front of them.

And then, he'd leaned in and kissed her.

Her arms linked around his neck and his hands find her waist, holding her as they kiss. His kiss was soft and sweet, unassuming and his lips tasted of butter and wine. Slowly, he eased her back against the cushion–and by the time they parted to catch their breath, her lips felt a bit swollen and her head was fuzzy.

"I, um, need a break," he murmurs, glancing down at himself. "Perhaps now would be a good time for that pie."

She grins and nods, following him into the kitchen. She pulls herself up onto the counter, and watches as he pulls the dessert from the refrigerator–and her smile is almost instant when she notices the scalloped whipped cream edges and the thin slices of lime that create a little flower at the pie's center. She can almost see Regina standing at the counter, tense and determined as she decorates the pie, cursing herself for not paying just a bit extra for someone else to do the decorating, then so satisfied with herself when it turned out so prettily.

"I almost don't want to cut it," Robin admits.

"I can almost hear Regina clicking her tongue at that."

"And rolling her eyes."

"Yes," she giggles. "She went to a lot of trouble."

Robin nods as he reaches for two plates. "She wanted this weekend to be special for us." He turns back, setting the plates on counter beside her. "She told me to make it memorable."

"Did she?"

He nods again. "Has it been?"

"I think so," Mal grins, reaching out and skimming her fingers over his hand. "Or, at the very least its had the beginnings of something memorable."

He grins and presses a knife into the pie. "Do you think it'll keep for a couple of days?"

"You want to save a slice for Regina?"

"Well, she was so excited about it."

"Even if it doesn't keep, I think you should try then–and maybe we can give her a memorable homecoming?"

Robin nods, chuckling softly as he plates the pie–and then, as she looks down to take her plate, Robin leans in and catches her lips in his. She smiles against him and her hands slide over his shoulders and she breathes him in and when he pulls back, she blushes, biting down on her lip as he reaches for her plate and hands it out to her.

He grabs two clean wine glasses on the way out of the kitchen and plucks a bottle of chardonnay as they pass the wine rack and as she settles back on the couch, Robin sets his pie and the wine onto the coffee table. A smirk pulls onto his lips.

She watches curiously as he moves to the record player–and a moment later, the deep sound of a saxophone fills the room. He turns the volume down, then turns back to her, smiling as an instrumental jazz record plays–and she grins at the realization that it's a Billie Holiday song.

"I love this song."

"I know," he tells her, pecking her lips as he joins her on the couch. "That's why we bought it."

She opens the wine and pours it in two glasses, handing him one as she picks up her plate and fork. "Did I ever tell you about the little concert Stefan and I went to?"

Robin shakes his head. "I don't think so."

"Billie Holiday was singing at this little club in Harlem."

"That seems… uncharacteristically thoughtful."

She nods. "Well, it has all the trappings of a thoughtful date, but before the first song was through, he was gone." She shrugs. "It was before Rose, and he'd been friendly with one of the waitresses and–"

"Ah–"

"We hadn't quite admitted that we couldn't stand each other, but I will say, I enjoyed the show much more without him."

"Then it was thoughtful of him to abandon you."

"Incredibly." She chews at her lip for a moment. "I might've gone home with someone else, too." He laughs and takes a bite of his pie as she sighs at the hazy memory of herself, wrapped in another woman's arms as her boyfriend kissed her neck. "It may be the best date Stefan's ever taken me on."

Their conversations settles on music as they finish their pie–and it's then, that she admits that she enjoys going out dancing. He looks surprised and she's certainly never told him–it isn't quite an activity that three people can do while not attracting attention from others, and Stefan couldn't care less about taking her out.

And then to her surprise, Robin downs his wine and stands up, offering her his hand.

"You…want to dance?" Mal asks as she looks up at him.

"Sure, why not?"

"Well–" she bites down on her lip. She doesn't have a good reason. "Okay," she murmurs, placing her hand in his and letting him pull her up.

Her stomach flutters as he leads her to the open space between between the couch and dining area–and her breath catches at the back of her throat when he pulls her up against him. His hand slips to the small of her back as he takes her hand in his, and her other arm stretches loosely around his shoulders. He pulls her even closer, eliciting a soft giggle from her and then presses a soft kiss to her jaw as they begin to sway back and forth together. She takes a long breath, breathing him in as her eyes close.

His lips find her neck, kissing her softly as they sway. A low moan escapes her as she lets her head fall to the side, giving him more access to her as she loses herself in his touch–and then, as the song ends Robin takes a step back, forcing open her eyes. He grins sweetly and his eyes glitter as he takes another step back, his fingers tightening around hers as he gives her a gentle tug. She giggles softly as she takes a step forward and follows him back to the bedroom as another song begins to play.

Robin taps his fingers nervously as he watches the door, watching as Gold's secretary cleans out her pocket book, tossing old receipts and candy wrappers into the wastebasket. He could feel his lock-pick in his pocket and he was eager to see if he needed to use it, and even more eager to take a look around Gold's office–but of course, he needed to get past his secretary in order to do either.

His door was cracked open and he pretended to be reading a stack of documents sitting on his desk, all the while keeping an eye on her. Finally, she finished and checked over her calendar, quickly glancing up at the clock mounted on the wall before getting up and walking to the elevator. He holds his breath, waiting to hear the elevator ding and then waits to hear the soft whirring noise it makes as it descends–and even then, he waits a few beats before rising from the desk. He grabs an old fountain pen and stuffs it into his pocket, fishing out the lock-pick as he crosses the empty office to Gold's door, and when he reaches the office door, he finds it unlocked.

"Well," he murmurs to himself. "That makes things easier."

Slipping inside, he looks around, quickly find the office stodgy and dark. He moves around the desk and looks at its contents, carefully opening folders and peeking beneath his desk calendar and finding nothing out of the ordinary. Sighing, he reaches for the top drawer and finds it locked–and when he reaches for another, he finds that one locked too.

Glancing quickly at the door, he pulls out the pick and crouches down in front of the top drawer, wiggling it until he feels it pop. Slowly, he glances back to the drawer, careful not to jar anything out of place, and when it's fully open, he looks down at its contents. Rows of pens and pencils, an opened roll of stamps, some envelopes, paper clips, and nothing at all worth locking up sit in a desk tray. The tray, however, isn't built into the drawer, but instead is nestled inside of it, and when he wiggles it, he finds that he can easily lift it.

Again, he looks up, this time taking note of the time, then turns his attention to the drawer. He slips the tray back, then pulls it up, lifting it up just enough to slip his hand beneath–and as soon as his fingers are beneath the tray, they touch upon a booklet. Crouching down, he lifts the tray a bit more and pulls out what he soon discovers is a date book.

Pulling it out, he fans through it, stopping at the current month, comparing it to the calendar atop the desk–and as he compares dates, he finds the appointments aren't quite the same. Unlike his desk calendar, the appointments made aren't clear–and, he reasons that there are several logical reasons why that could be. One calendar is obviously professional and this could be personal or for bills or any other thing in Gold's life that needed tracking. But the inscriptions were vague–symbols and letters–and he had a sinking feeling in his gut that over the years had never proven to be wrong.

Taking a breath, he turned back a few pages, to the month and day that Mal had shot Stefan–and only two days later, there was a circle around the date. There was another circled day just after Mal had hired Regina, and a few more after that, one of which was later that week. But he very well knew that a circled date in a date book was hardly evidence of foul play, so he tucked the date book back in its place and closed the drawer, locking it before moving on to another.

He picks the lock to another drawer, finding its contents unimportant–extra legal pads and a box of ink, an old photograph of himself with a woman and a young boy, a half empty tin of mint candies, and a rather large bottle of aspirin. Sighing, he shuts the drawer and locks it, then crouches down to open the third and last drawer. He pulls it open and sighs, to find a row of standard green hanging folders, labeled with cases he's prosected over the last year–and after a quick flip through a few of them, he finds in them exactly what their labels read.

Sighing, he pushes the folders forward, and that's when he reveals an accordion folder at the back of the drawer. He pulls it out and glances to the clock, checking his time before flipping through the insert–and he frowns when the first slip of paper he pulls from the folder is Gold's electric bill.

He rolls his eyes and continues through the accordion folder, and a the back he finds a bundle of bank slips. He pulls off the paperclips and slowly fans through them, finding them mostly routine transactions–every friday a deposit for his paycheck, a monthly withdraw for his mortgage, and another monthly withdraw for a set amount that he assumes has something to do with the family picture tucked away in his drawer, rather than atop his desk–and then, midway through the stack of slips, a specific date catches his eye.

Pulling out the slip, he examines it carefully, feeling his heartbeat quicken as realizes the deposit was made on the first day that was circled, two days after Mal shot Stefan. The deposit is for a $1000 and a few slips later, he finds another for the same amount, and that deposit was made on the next circled date in his date book. Looking to the clock once more, he studies the slip, memorizing its details. There are others that follow for the same amount that match to the other circled days–and he feels an unsettled feeling slothing around at his core.

Any conclusion he could draw are merely assumptions–and he's sure that Gold has an explanation.

He puts the slips back, eyeing the door, as he shoves the accordion file back into place–then, as he's locking the drawer, he hears the soft whirring of the elevator.

Swallowing hard, he looks to the clock on the wall, his heart racing as he fidgets with the lock–and just as he pulls the pick from the lock, the elevator dings, announcing its arrival. He looks around the desk, checking to make sure everything is in its spots and he gives each drawer a slight tug to ensure they're locked, and then he rounds the desk. He won't be able to get out, but he can make it look more innocent than it is–and as he reaches the front of the desk, he hears the door knob turn.

"Mr. Locksley," Gold's voice calls. "What a surprise."

"Oh," Robin says, turning and chuckling softly. "I'm sure it is."

"Is there are reason you're in my office, all by your lonesome?"

Robin nods, swallowing hard as he fishes the pen out of his jacket pocket. "Desperation," he admits as he shows the pen. "I'd hit a groove in preparing my opening arguments–"

"Then you've made progress?"

"I have–I think," Robin murmurs. "Or at least I'm trying to."

"That's good to hear, but it doesn't quite explain your presence in my office."

"No… no, it doesn't." He takes a breath, reminding himself to keep his voice even and light. "My pen ran out of ink. I was hoping you had some."

"And you thought to check here, rather than in the supply cupboard?"

Robin blinks. "Those cartridges don't fit this pen. It's rather old–"

"So, my office was the next logical place to look?"

"I thought I'd seen you use one like it," he offers, holding out the pen. "It's dumb, but I'm superstitious. I always use this pen for writing arguments and–" He watches as Gold's eyes narrow as he takes the pen, unscrewing the tip. "Like I said before, I'm worried about this and can use all the luck I can get it."

"I do have a pen like this," Gold tells him. "Good eye."

Robin nods. "My father gave it to me when I started law school."

"He had good taste."

"He did," Robin agrees–lying through his teeth. He had no memories of his father and the only memory of his mother was her kissing him goodbye the morning she dropped him off at a local orgaphage. The pen was old, though, and the only sentimental value it held was that sometimes Henry liked to play with it. He claimed that because it only worked some of the time, it was magic–rather than an old pen with a dried out ink cartridge. "Your secretary left for lunch–"

Gold's eyes roll. "An extra long one, I assume."

"Yes–"

"She always does that when I'm in court," Gold sighs. "I really should dock her pay."

"That seems a lot of effort–"

Gold just shrugs as his voice trails off. "I do have a cartridge for that pen," he says, rounding to the back of his desk. "Blue or black?"

"Black," Robin murmurs, watching as gold reaches into his pocket and fishes out a key, unlocking the drawer and pulling out the box of ink. "Thank you."

"Is that all?"

Robin nods as he accepts the cartridge. "I think so."

"You look stressed."

Blinking, Robin's brows arch–and then a soft and somewhat nervous chuckle escapes him. "This case is giving me a headache," he admits. "I can hardly wait til it's over."

"You aren't the only one." Gold returns the ink to the drawer and grabs the aspirin. "Here. Take two of these," he says, upcapping the bottle and letting two tablets fall into his palm. "It'll take the edge off of that headache."

"Thank you."

Gold hands him the aspirin. "So tell me, have you uncovered anything new?"

Clearing his throat, Robin nods. "I think I have a lead."

"Oh? Do tell."

"One of the maids who lived in the house who testified on Mal's behalf might've felt pressured–"

"Oh?"

Robin nods. "So, I want to talk to them again, now that a little time's passed."

"Good," Gold nods. "That's good. If one has any inconsistencies–"

"And you know," he says, laughing as he grits his teeth. "There was probably some fear of negative consequences."

At that, Gold laughs–and Robin feels his stomach lurch. "A crazy woman with a gun isn't anything to balk at. I'm sure now that some distance is between them all, things might be clearer."

"That's my hope," Robin says. "Finding some clarity."

"From what I understand, the Perraults were always good employers. Remind her of that, maybe?"

"Of course," Robin murmurs. "I've got an appointment with the maid at two, so I should be getting back to my office."

"Well," Gold sighs, "You'll update me in the morning?"

"If you'd like–"

"I would," Gold nods. "This should be an easy win for us and it's been embarrassing how little we've been able to accomplish, given that we have a literal smoking gun and–" He stops, tossing the aspirin bottle down on his desk, moving to a little cabinet beneath the window. "Never mind," he says, reaching for a bottle of scotch. "Things may be turning. I shouldn't jinx it."

"No–"

"How's your wife handling this, by the way?"

"I don't know," Robin lies. "I haven't spoken to her in… days."

"Perhaps you should."

"I'm sorry?"

"Cozy back up to her. See what information you can squeeze."

Robin grins tightly. "That's a large order."

Gold nods. "See what the maid says. Then we'll… discuss."

"Right."

"Remember, Locksley," Gold says, his voice warning as he turns from the cabinet back to Robin. "Losing this one isn't an option."

"No," Robin agrees. "I've no intention of screwing this up."

Gold grins over the rim of his glass. "Glad to hear it."

"Thank you again for the cartridge."

"My pleasure," Gold says as Robin nods and turns out of the office, releasing the breath he'd been holding in his lungs as he made his way back to the office.

Mal felt like she was floating.

It'd been two weeks since she was able to see them–two long and almost physically painful weeks of fundraisers and charity events where she'd had to grit her teeth and smile as Stefan told dull story after dull story to their fathers' rich friends and possible donors. She wasn't even sure what the parties were for–she'd been told, but she hadn't listened past that it was something to do with the war effort–and she resented the momentary stalling of her freedom.

But then, things went back to normal and she went back to being ignored.

She made an excuse about spending a couple of days visiting a friend going through a break up, and her father offered little more than a huff as he nodded and told her to have fun. He didn't ask the details and she was glad for it, and when she told Stefan she'd be leaving for a few days, his relief over being rid of her for awhile was almost palpable.

On her first night with them, Robin begrudgingly agreed to fill in for Graham in a trivia contest at a local bar. Regina pouted about already being in her pajamas, but they'd both gotten dressed and gone with him. It hadn't been an eventful night, but she and Regina sat at the bar, talking and drinking, munching on pretzels and beer nuts. It amazed her sometimes how easy it was to just be with Regina–and with Robin, and the combination of the two–and that no matter how long they spent apart or how much time they spent together, it was never awkward or uncomfortable, and she never tired of it.

And it'd be something she one day missed–and something she hoped she could return to from time to time.

Robin had taken them by surprise, bounding toward them and clearly drunk, as he announced that his team had won. She and Regina both smiled and laughed as they told him they were glad. His eyes had widened with excitement as he pulled three tickets from his pocket, exclaiming that they were all theirs. He offered them an exasperated little sigh when it became obvious that neither she nor Regina shared in his excitement, and he'd drawn in a short breath before launching into an explanation, explaining that the trivia team had won tickets to a jazz cover band that was playing a couple of towns over, but he was only one who didn't already have plans for the following weekend, so they'd given all three tickets to them.

Excitedly, he'd handed them over to Regina, and Mal leaned over to peek at them, cooing about how much she loved jazz. Regina agreed, confirming they didn't have any reason they couldn't go–and that had been that, it'd all been settled.

They'd spent most of the next evening getting themselves ready. Regina wore a tightly fitted black dress with a gray stitching around the hem of the skirt that complemented the gray buttons down the back and the gray cuffs just above her elbows. Earlier that day while Robin and Regina were running errands, she'd popped into a little boutique and found a raspberry-colored dress that hugged her hips and showed off her long legs. The short sleeves were loose and made of lace and the back dipped down scandalously low, and as she'd reached for a beaded black clip for her hair, a raspberry and black striped tie caught her eye–and that was the tie that Robin was wearing that night. She and Regina paired it with his black wool suit and Robin chose to forgo the jacket, wearing only the vest over his shirt. She'd grinned as she pinned up her hair, watching as Regina tied Robin's tie, pecking his lips quickly as she patted his chest when she'd finished–and as they both sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to finish getting ready, she felt her enthusiasm beginning to bubble. She could hardly contain her excitement at actually going out with them, and she prayed that it wouldn't be something they later regretted.

But when they got to the jazz club, her worries all but faded. Within minutes they noticed two women sitting at the bar. One of them was talking and the other was listening intently, holding her drink in one hand and rubbing her fingers up and down the other woman's forearm, smiling adoringly at her.

She'd felt a bit brazen as she reached for Regina's hand, and she couldn't help but smile as Regina's finger's curled down around hers. Robin's hand pressed at the small of her back as he guided them to their table, and she bit down on her lip as she looked around, laughing softly to herself as she realized that no one was paying them any attention.

Couples were cuddled up in the booths and slow dancing on the floor as a record played overhead; people flirted at the bar, sipping their drinks and smoking their cigarettes, and a group of college-aged kids danced together at the side of the stage. She couldn't quite tell if they were dancing by themselves or in a group, and it didn't matter–what mattered is she could likely get away with being affectionate with both Robin and Regina, and no one would notice or care. They'd blend in, and for once, she'd feel normal.

"This is nice," she murmurs, looking between them as they settle into their chairs. "I've never been here."

"I've passed by it a few times," Regina admits. "I never thought to go in."

Robin shakes his head. "It's no Billie Holiday, but–"

"The company is much better this time around," she says, cutting in and offering him a wink.

"I don't know what it is you two are talking about," Regina says as she plucks the drink menu up from the table and looks to Mal. "But I agree."

A waiter came by and they ordered their drinks–three martinis, hers with extra olives–and she told the quick version of the story she'd told Robin about Stefan taking her to see Billie Holiday at a club in Harlem as they waited. Regina empathized with being left alone and slid her hand over hers, her engagement ring clearly visible, and when the waiter returned with their drinks, he didn't bat an eye.

And once again, she felt emboldened–they never got to be like this.

When the band was announced the lights dimmed even lower and the room had a romantic, sensuous feel to it. She watched as couples slowly left their seats to slow dance together and after a second drink, she found herself looking between them, biting down on her lip.

"I want to dance," she said, holding her breath as they both turned to look at her. "Who wants to dance with me?"

"I think I want to see you two dance," Robin says, cocking his brow as he looks between them. "I'll stay here and guard the drinks."

She watched as Regina nodded and she sighed softly, pouting a little as she looked to him. She wanted both of them. "You won't come, too?"

Regina's brows arched as though the thought hadn't quite occurred to her, but she could tell by the way a grin slowly tugged up at the corners of her mouth that she liked the idea.

"In a little bit," he says, his voice slow and tentative.

"Really?"

"Really!"

Shaking her head, she slid out of her chair. "Something tells me you're just putting me off."

"I'm not. We'll dance after… the next five or so songs." He grins as he lifts his empty glass. "After I drink up a bit more courage."

"He's… not a dancer."

"No?" She asks, genuinely surprise. "We've danced."

"In our living room," he nods. "We did."

Regina grins looking between them and her own breath caught at our. "When did you two dance in the living room?"

"When you were in Connecticut," Robin supplies. "And after I'd had at least three glasses of wine."

"It was four," Mal tells her.

"See?"

Regina's arm slips around her waist and she presses her cheek to her arm. She can't help but smile at her as her stomach flutters and a resigned sigh escapes her. "Alright," she concedes. "But don't think you're getting out of this."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Yes he would," Regina laughs, her hand rubbing at the small of her back. "Don't take it personally. When my cousin, Mary, got married, getting him out onto the dance floor was like pulling teeth."

"I did it though."

Regina's eyes roll before shifting from Robin to Mal. "Two dances," she says flatly. "I got two whole dances out of him at the very end of the night."

"It's better than none."

At that, Regina's eyes go wide and Mal laughs, shaking her head. "Well, if I get one, I'll be happy," she admits.

"As long as that one is with both of you."

"Both–"

"At once–"

"Yes!" She exclaims, nodding as she brandishes her hand out at the dance floor. "I mean, look. No one will notice us. We'll blend in."

"But–"

"I've been watching," she cuts in. "No one is going to care that the three of us are dancing together." Sighing, she softens. "And it's so hard to do things all together. It'd be nice to just… have one night where we don't have to hide or pretend that I'm some sort of awkward third wheel."

Oh.

She hadn't meant that to sound as heavy as it had. She only meant to tease, but their faces fall and she feels her own excitement drop.

"I didn't mean to imply–" She stops as Regina hugs her into her side and she can see Robin's resolve diminishing–likely out of guilt–and she feels a sharp twinge of regret at her core. She hadn't meant for that to sound the way that it had. She hadn't meant to imply that they didn't care for her. She hadn't meant that at all. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have–"

"Don't apologize," he murmurs as a lopsided little grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth. "I promise. A couple more drinks and I'll join you."

"Now I feel like I've guil–"

"No," he cuts in. "I just need a bit more liquid courage before I make a fool out of myself."

"It's true," Regina insists, squeezing her closer. "You're not a third wheel. You've never been that." She sighs and looks between them–and before she can let herself feel like she's completely spoiled the mood of the evening, Regina leans in. "Come on, let's go out there give him a little show."

At that, her brow arches up and Robin smiles as he settles back, clearly liking that idea.

She laughs a bit as Regina takes a couple of steps back. Her hand forms around hers and she gives her a little tug, tugging her toward the dance floor.

"I really didn't–"

"I know," Regina says before she can finish. "And so does he."

"I just–" She sighs, shaking her head, wishing she hadn't said what she did. "I didn't mean to make this a heavy moment. We're out having fun and–."

"You're not allowed to say that you spoiled it because you didn't. I don't think that. Robin doesn't think that, and you shouldn't think that."

"Even if–"

"You didn't."

She nods, grinning a little as they reached the edge of the dance floor. "It's just… hard sometimes."

"I know."

"For the last two weeks, I've felt like I was cheating."

Regina blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Being with Stefan so much. I… I felt like I was cheating."

"On me and Robin?"

Mal nods and a soft, but uncomfortable chuckle escapes her. "How's that for irony?"

"Mal," Regina says, looking up at her a slow smile edges onto her lips and her arm slips around her waist. "You need to cut yourself some slack." Drawing in a breath, she nods–and maybe Regina's right, maybe she does. "Stop beating yourself up over a non-issue."

"Maybe–"

"I won't deny that both Robin and I wish you could spend more time with us, but I feel like no matter how much time we had with you, it'd never be enough." Her fingers knead at her hip, and she's looking at her so sweetly and with so much love that it nearly hurts. "And I hate that we have to watch every single move we make. It's not fair, but as you pointed out, tonight isn't one of those nights."

"I–"

"I swear to god," Regina cuts in. "If you apologize–"

"I'm not," Mal says as a soft chuckle rises into her voice. "I was just going to tell you that you're right."

"Oh, well, I usually am, but–"

"I love you."

"I love you, too." She watches as Regina draws in a breath and then leans up onto her toes, pressing a quick, fleeting kiss to her lips. "And I really want to dance with you right now," she says, her smile growing a bit coy. "After all, we did promise Robin a little show."

"And I can't imagine that us standing here talking is very exciting."

"It might make him a bit curious."

"Not quite what I intended."

"So, let's then."

Mal nods, and takes a step in, closing the gap between them. Their arms fold around each and she rests her head atop Regina's, closing her eyes and breathing her in. She feels her insecurities and worry once more beginning to fade as they sway together to the soft, soothing jazz music; and, finally, when her eyes flutter open, she can't help but notice that no one is looking at them–well, no one except Robin.

She offers him a little grin as she lifts her head, straightening her herself up as her eyes slide back to Regina. She takes a half step back and her hands slide down her arms, her fingers forming around her hands, as she takes a hard step in, shimming her hips as she does. Regina giggles a little and follows her lead, taking two steps back and then a step forward, her shoulders mimicking her feet, as they move to the rhythm of the song.

Reluctantly, she lets her go, laughing as Regina's brow arches. She steps around her so they're standing back-to-back. Regina's hips are still moving and she's looking back at her from over her shoulder, and a grin pulls onto her lips as her eyes meet Robin's, watching as he watches her shimmy downward, her body rubbing against Regina's backside. She laughs a little as Robin sips a nearly-gone martini as he smiles over the rim of the glass. She offers him a quick wink before breaking his gaze, reaching for Regina's hand and grinning as Regina once again looks back at her from over her shoulder as her finger curls down around hers.

Mal steps back around her and tugs her up against herself. The music slows and grins as Regina bites down on her lip–her lips suddenly looking so full and soft, and without hesitation, she leans in and kisses her.

Regina's tongue parts her lips, sliding against hers and she breathes her in, kissing her back as if they weren't surrounded and on display. Her hand slips over Regina's hip as Regina's foot comes up, wrapping around her calf and pulling her closer and deeper into the kiss.

She's vaguely aware that the song had ended and she feels a bit dizzy when a firm hand presses to her back, and before she can even process what that means, warm lips press to her neck as the smell of pine consumes her senses.

"I didn't know this is what dancing meant," Robin murmurs, his breath tickling her skin.

Regina breaks the kiss, her lips hovering for just a moment as her grin forms and her eyes shift to Robin. "You know that now that you're here, we're not letting you go."

He laughs and reaches for her hand, stepping around Mal as his arm stretches around Regina's waist–and then, he reaches for her hand. Mal grins as she takes it and her heart flutters as Robin's smile brightens, his eyes sparkling, even in the dim light.

"Well, ladies," he says, looking between them as a new song begins. "What do you say? Can I have this dance?"

When Robin comes into the house, he feels his shoulders relax as a smile pulls onto his lips. Mal and Regina are cuddled up on the couch together wearing bathrobes. Regina's hair is curly and natural and Mal's head rests atop her as they flip through a photo album. As he comes closer he can see that it was on from the summer before when they'd taken a road trip to the Appalachian Mountains–and he chuckled softly at the memory of Regina's eyes pinching closed as they stood atop a high bluff, refusing to look at the sunset because it'd mean acknowledging just how high up they were.

His laugh makes his presence known, and they both turn to look at him–both smiling and beautiful.

"What are you doing here?" Regina asks. "You've got at least three hours before your day ends."

"I decided to play hookie, after all."

"Well, good," Mal decides. "You're just in time for lunch."

"Speaking of lunch," he says as he sits down on the coffee table in front of them. "Do you know much about the maid who lived in the house with you and Stefan?"

"Louisa?"

"Yes."

"She was… nice," Mal says. "She used to listen to Spanish telenovelas while she cleaned." She grins. "She had a son who played soccer and liked science experiments." She grins. "She used to bring him sometimes when Stefan was away on business. I helped him make a volcano once."

"So, you… knew her well enough to know if she likes tacos."

Mal blinks. "Tacos."

"Yes. I have a dinner date with her this evening."

"Oh?"

"I'm trying to decide where to take her," he says, looking to Regina. "Preferably somewhere a certain District Attorney wouldn't be."

"Should… this be something I'm worried about?" Mal asks, looking between them, everything about her demeanor changing. "I don't understand why–"

"A technicality," Robin assures her as Regina rubs her back. "I promise."

"Um, her husband owns a restaurant," Mal murmurs. "I can get you the address. That'd probably be easiest for everyone."

"Perfect," he says, leaning forward and pecking her lips as his hand slips up Regina's knee. "It looks like you two have had a nice morning."

"The best," Regina says, grinning as she looks to Mal. "Are you here for lunch?"

"I could be," he admits. "Gold thinks I'm off interviewing people."

"Oh–"

He looks back to Mal. "I promise you. You have nothing to worry about."

"If you say so."

"Mal–"

She grins. "I'm going to go check on our lunch."

He and Regina both watch as she disappears. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"You didn't," Regina sighs. "This… isn't about you. She's just… upset, in general."

"I know. I just don't want to add to it."

Regina nods as she reaches for him, tugging him to the couch beside her. "So, why exactly do you need to interview this maid?"

"I lied to Gold and said I think she might be a character witness for Stefan."

"If I remember correctly, Louisa is the one who corroborated Mal's story about Stefan being abusive."

"Yes," he nods. "She shared some very detailed memories."

"It sounds like they were close."

Robin nods. "It does."

"So, you spoke to Gold today?"

"I did," he nods. "When he caught me in his office."

"Robin!" Regina's eyes widen as she sits up. "He caught you?"

"I think I played it off well. He didn't seem to suspect."

"Robin–"

"Regina, it's fine."

Her eyes narrow skeptically, and he can tell she doesn't believe him, but she sighs and leans back against the couch. He grins as she picks up his arm and drapes it around her shoulders. "So, you got into his office. Did you find anything or did he come in before you were able to snoop?"

"No, I got to snoop," he tells her, peering down at her. "And I think I may have found something."

She blinks. "He kept something incriminating in his office?"

"Locked."

"Ah–"

"And coded."

"Oh," she murmurs. "So…"

"He had a series of meetings that started just after Mal shot Stefan."

"Well that's–"

"And it seems those meetings resulted in deposits of a grand into his account, each time."

Regina's brows arch. "Really?"

"He nods. The dates were circled on a calendar he had underneath his desk tray and in another drawer he had bank slips, that–"

"Match the dates."

"Exactly."

"That's the beginnings of a case for bribery."

"Right, I just need to… prove it."

"And that the bribes are connected to the Perraults," Regina murmurs. "I wonder if we can somehow find out where Leopold was at the time of those meetings."

He grins. "We can, possibly." Regina's brow furrows. "He has another meeting scheduled in a few days."

"Oh–"

"I could probably follow–"

"He'd see you and he might not suspect now, but–"

"What about Belle?"

Regina blinks. "You want Belle to follow him?"

"Yes."

"Hm," she murmurs, considering it. "Well, I don't think she'd necessarily be opposed."

"I don't either, and when she figures out where he's going, she and I could… meet for lunch."

Regina laughs. "Are you trying to make him think you're having an affair?"

"Maybe."

"Robin, that's–"

"He already thinks our marriage is strained."

"Because we were fighting when you first started or because–"

"Of a lot of things," he admits. "And because I told him our marriage was strained."

"Ah, so it'd be nice to prove that to him."

"Yes."

"So this is a multi-purpose date you're taking my secretary on."

"Yes."

Again, Regina laughs. "You know, she's always up for an adventure and loves helping us out."

"Think she and I could be a convincing pair?"

"No," Regina laughs. "But that's because I know you both."

"And you know she'd never be interested in me."

"It's nothing personal–"

"Just my gender."

"Well, yes."

Robin laughs. "Well, it's a good thing it's all a ruse."

"And if anything, she'll get a good meal out of it," Regina says, looking back up at him. "I can't imagine Gold going anywhere that doesn't have a five-star ranking."

"He is pretentious–"

"Mm–"

Leaning in, he presses a kiss to her hair. "So, given that you're both still in robes and look like you've recently been in the shower, I don't imagine you made it to the bank."

"No," she admits. "We were having such a nice morning. I couldn't bring it up."

"Mal isn't eager to get them."

Regina shakes her head. "And it's hard to force something that's going to be painful–"

"Especially when you might not have to."

"If the records would ever arrive."

Robin nods. "They are coming from India."

"I know," she sighs. "And something tells me they'll have something conclusive in them."

"That something being that Mal tenses up whenever we mention them."

"Yeah," she nods. "Something happened in India."

"Something she doesn't want to recount."

"Exactly," Regina nods. "And if that's the case, I don't know that we need those pictures."

"It'll depend on how it was recorded."

"Yes, which–"

"Makes it frustrating."

"I've never been good at waiting."

"I know," he laughs. "Trust me, I know."

"And I don't want to put her through–"

"Lunch is served," Mal announces, carrying a tray into the room and setting it down on the coffee table opposite them. "I hope you don't mind I finished off the wine from last night's dinner for a dressing–"

"Not at all," Regina's quick to say, sitting up at moving herself to the edge of the couch. "This looks great."

"It does. Is that quiche?"

Mal nods. "It has the ham from last night in it, and–" she gestures to the salad. "I made a salad for us to use up the greens from last night."

Robin grins. "Our garbage disposal is likely enjoying a rest."

Regina swats at him. "I don't know how, but I'm sure that was a dig at me and my culinary abilities."

"It wasn't," he laughs. "I promise." Regina's eyes roll and a soft giggle escapes Mal that makes them both smile. "It's much more to do with the fact that another person is living and eating here who isn't finicky." He blinks as Regina's brow arches as she looks to him. "You know, someone who doesn't decide they don't eat green things on any given day or that noodles are worms or crust on sandwiches is actually sandpaper and dangerous."

"I hope that's your way of saying you like having me here," Mal says, handing them each a plate of quiche. "Because… I rather like being here."

"Do you?"

She nods. "I don't remember the last time I enjoyed being at home and–"

"Home."

"Is that what you consider this?"

"I… I don't know," she admits. "That's kind of a complicated question."

"It doesn't have to be."

She blinks as she looks between them. "It's nice to pretend."

"Mal–"

She shakes her head as she rounds the coffee table to sit on the other side of Regina. "Can we just enjoy ourselves for an afternoon?"

Robin glances to Regina and she grins a bit sadly, and he nods. "I'd love nothing more."

"I mean, I spent all of twenty minutes preparing lunch, so the least you can do is enjoy it."

Regina laughs and looks to Robin, biting down at her lip. "So, you're free until you meet Louisa?"

"I am."

"So, perhaps after lunch we could… catch you up on what you missed this morning."

"It was fun," Mal says, nodding as grin pulls onto her lips.

He finds himself laughing out as he looks between them, watching as Mal's arm slides around Regina's hips and they both smile slyly–and no matter what Mal says, nothing about what they're doing is pretend.

—

Regina smiles against Mal's mouth as Robin unhooks her bra, slowly dragging it down her arms and dropping it to the floor.

His lips suck at the nape of her neck–his breath warm and soothing–and she giggles, shivering, as his fingers skim down her sides before settling on her hips, his fingers pressing gently at her skin before they find the button at the back of her skirt. He undoes it and lets his hand slip inside, rubbing roughly over her thin, silky panties that separate him from her skin.

She lets out a breath–low and a bit rumbly, sighing as Mal's tongue swipes over her bottom lip. She can feel her smiling as she pushes herself closer, and as Regina's eyes flutter, she watches as Mal reaches for Robin. Her fingers skirt along his neck and shoulder. She barely touches him, her fingers ghosting over him in a way that's both tantalizing and sensuous, acting like little feathers brushing over flushed skin.

Regina pulls herself up a bit and once again, she smiles into Mal's kiss as she feels how hard Robin is–and it occurs to her that they'd probably be better off in the bedroom. But moving would mean ending what they're already doing and she's enjoying herself far too much to do that.

So, instead, she reaches for Mal, pushing her hand into her hair. She pulls her closer as her tongue slides against her, kissing her harder and deeper. A moan escapes her and Regina smiles, appreciating the response and once more, she feels Mal smile.

Her breath is becoming ragged as she once again thinks that maybe they should move into the bedroom–but nearly as soon as she thinks it, Robin's hand slips into her panties, rubbing over her ass, not stopping until his fingers slip against the wet spot between her legs.

His touch is like a little jolt of electricity and she sits up a bit straighter, her hand falling to Mal's bare shoulder and then–

"What the fuck is going on here?"

John's voice is loud and unexpected, breaking them apart and leaving her and Mal to grapple to find something to cover up with. Her heart beats wildly in her chest and her mouth is suddenly dry as Robin gets up from the couch. Robin says something that she can't quite hear over her racing heartbeat, but John just stands there with wide eyes and a slack jaw, looking absolutely appalled in his Navy dress blues.

"It doesn't matter if the door wasn't locked," she hears Robin say. "It was closed."

"So that justifies–"

"We're not going to talk about justifying anything."

Regina takes a breath, swallowing hard as she looks away from John, and from the corner of her eye, she can see Mal's hand trembling–and it's only then that she realizes that what's embarrassing for her is terrifying for Mal.

"Robin," she murmurs, clearing her throat and waiting for him to turn back to face them. "We're going to… go into the bedroom and… cover up."

He nods and takes a breath as she reaches for Mal's hand–but Mal doesn't let her take it. It pains her, but she understands. She follows her, though, back to the bedroom hugging the blanket tightly around herself as they go. Regina closes the door and Mal just stands there watching as Regina pulls two robes from the hook by the door.

"Are you okay?"

Mal doesn't respond, but she takes the robe Regina offers her.

"So, um… apparently John is home on leave," Regina says as she stretches her arms through the sleeves of her robe. "Nice of him to drop in."

"Regina, what if–"

"Mal, John is Robin's best friend. He's practically his brother. He might not like what he saw, but he'd never–"

"What we're doing is illegal."

Regina blinks as she knots her robe, looking back at Mal, who's still standing there with wide, terrified eyes, clutching the blanket from the couch around herself. "Hey," she breathes out. "Look, he's not going to say anything or–"

"But it's out there now," Mal says. "Someone knows."

"He'll keep our secret."

"What if he doesn't? What if… it slips or if he confides in someone he shouldn't or–" Her voice cracks as tears fill her eyes. "Or what if he can't live with the moral im–"

"Mal," Regina cuts in, closing the gap of space between them. "Hey, look at me." Mal's eyes shift up to meet hers as she takes her hand. "It's okay, it's going to be okay. He won't tell."

"You can't be sure of that." Regina sighs–Mal is right, she can't be sure of it, but she is sure that Robin means the world to John and hurting him is something he'd never willingly do. "Do you know what would happen?"

"Mal–"

"I can't believe I've put you in this situation."

"Mal, you didn't–"

"So, we're not sleeping together?" She asks flatly, her jaw still trembling. "Because what you and I are doing is illegal in forty-eight states." She shrugs as her eyes fill with tears. "And you'd have never been in the position you are if it weren't for me. I put you in this position." Her face scrunches and flushes as her eyes press closed and Regina's heart aches as she watches tears roll down her cheeks. "If it weren't for me, you and Robin would be leading a completely normal life."

"Just because something's illegal doesn't make it wrong."

"They could put you in a mental hospital, Regina–or a worse, a prison. They could sterilize you or lobotomize you and–" She sucks in a shaky breath. "Men could force themselves on you to try to change you and–

"Mal," Regina cuts in, her voice rising over hers. "He won't tell."

"But–"

"Now, let's get you into that robe."

Mal offers a half nod that Regina takes as her consent, and gently, she pulls her hands away from the blanket. She lets it drop to the floor before tugging free the robe that hangs over her arm. Fanning it out, she drapes it over her shoulders, smiling gently as Mal stretches her arm through the openings. She knots it around her waist as Mal reaches up and wipes away the tears threatening to fall.

And it's then that Regina notices a purple bruise on her inner arm.

"When did that happened?"

"What?"

Mal blinks, following Regina's gaze, and for a moment, she just stares at it. "Oh," she murmurs. "I, um…I was wearing a bangle and it was a little tight," she says, still starting at it. "When I rolled up my sleeves, the bracelet went with it and… and I guess that's the result."

"You must have been pushing up those sleeves awfully hard."

Mal blinks at her, then nods. "Yeah…"

"Does it hurt?" She asks, reaching out and touching her fingers to the spot just above the bruise. "It's… awfully dark."

"It looks worse than it is."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"It's better," she says, shrugging as she sniffs back her tears. "I just need to be more careful."

For a moment, silence falls between them, and Robin's and John's voices have fallen quite a few octaves, and if she didn't know any better, she'd just assume they were having a normal conversation.

"He doesn't even sound upset anymore."

"That doesn't mean that he's not."

Regina's eyes narrow and she reaches for Mal's hand, leading her to the bed. "Come on."

"Regina–"

"Just lay here with me and relax a little."

Mal hesitates but nods, and together they settle themselves in bed. Regina grins as Mal's head rests on her shoulder and breathes a sigh of relief when Mal lets her hold her.

"Has Robin ever told you about how he and John met?"

"No."

Regina grins, launching into a story that's not hers to tell. She tells her about how Robin's mother had given him up when he was little–old enough to just barely remember it–and how John was the first friend he made at the orphanage. They'd been fast friends–telling secrets and stealing candy, getting into all sorts of trouble that earned them extra chores and glares from the nuns.

When they were fifteen, they'd started doing odd jobs–charity work, really, during those depression years–and a childless elderly couple had taken a liking to them. They never officially adopted them, but made an arrangement with the nuns that John and Robin could stay with them until they turned eighteen–the boys would help out around the house in exchange for room and board, and the nuns had been all too eager to be rid of the troublemakers.

After high school, they'd gone in opposite directions–John joined the Navy and Robin won a scholarship, but even then, they'd remained close, staying in touch with letters.

They had a bond that was unbreakable, and it just wasn't in John's character to stay angry for long.

Mal nodded but remained unsure, and when they heard the front door close and Robin's footsteps coming toward the bedroom, she tensed and sat up.

"Well, he's gone."

"And?"

"And the concept of bisexuality is completely lost on him." He sighs, "So I didn't even bother attempting to explain… other concepts."

Mal's jaw starts to tremble. "Um, but… what did you say to…um… explain me."

"I… gave him a watered down version of the truth," he admits. "I, um… it doesn't really matter."

"And you don't think he'll tell anyone?" Regina asks as Robin sits down "He'll keep our secret?"

Robin nods. "I think so."

"Robin–"

He sighs and looks to Mal. "He's not going to say anything." Momentarily, his eyes shift to Regina and then back to Mal. "I… told him that… Regina and I were… doing a little experimenting."

"Experimenting," Mal repeats.

"Robin, that's not–"

"I know it's not what this is."

"Experimenting," she murmurs again, her voice barely audible. "He thinks I'm… an experiment." She sits up and looks between them, drawing her knees up and hugging them to her chest–and suddenly, the small amount of space between them seems so vast. "Experiments are… usually so short-lived, temporary…"

"Mal, that isn't–"

"You are not an experiment."

"But our time together is short-lived. This arrangement is temporary."

"It doesn't have to be."

At that, her brow arches. "Doesn't it, though?" She offers them the saddest of smiles. "You two will move on and marry, and I'll marry Stefan and–" Her eyes press closed and she draws in a breath. "And we'll all go back to being normal."

"Mal–"

"I've always known that this wouldn't last, but–"

"Who says it can't?" Robin asks, his voice serious and his eyes wide. "Come here–"

He reaches for her, and Regina can't help but smile as he pulls her to him, effortlessly pulling her into his lap and cuddling her. They settle at the head of the bed and she stretches out beside them, gently stroking her fingers over her arm while Robin spins as many scenarios as he can think of that explain just how easily the three of them could continue, no matter how far-fetched they may be–and time and time again, she finds herself thinking if only it could be as simple as he made it seem.

"We were just talking about you," Regina says, grinning as the elevator doors close behind Robin. "Well, you and lunch."

"Good things, I hope."

"I was just starting to update her on some of your recent… discoveries."

"Oh," he murmurs. "Starting?"

Belle's eyes narrow as she looks up from the menu. "Why do I have a feeling this is going to… involve me in some way?"

Robin chuckles softly. "Am I invited to stay for lunch?"

Regina laughs as Belle's eyes roll, and she holds the menu out to him. "As long as you choose quickly," Regina says. "We're just about to order, and I am starving."

"I'll have a burger, then," he says, handing it back to her without looking. "And fries–and extra ketchup on the side."

Belle nods and take the menu back, flipping it over in search of a phone number. "So, are you going to tell me what it is you're involving me in or do I have to guess based on the clues Regina dropped."

Regina feels a giggle bubble up in her chest as Robin shifts awkwardly on his feet, suddenly looking uncomfortable. She takes a long sip of her coffee to conceal it as Robin shoves his hands into his pockets and narrows his eyes, looking incredibly unsure.

"I was … hoping that you might like to go out."

"Out."

He nods, "On a lunch date."

Belle's brows arch. "Uh, I… I don't quite see… how that…" She sighs as a little giggle rises out of her. "That's not at all what I expected. I'm sorry. I just–"

"It's strictly professional, of course," he cuts in. "Well, sort of."

Regina bites down on her lip as Belle fidgets with the phone cord, staring quizzically at Robin. "He needs help doing a little sleuthing.

"Oh…"

"So, I need you to pretend that you and I are on a date."

Belle's face scrunches. "You and me…"

"Yes," Robin replies as a soft chuckle rises into his voice. "I… need my boss to think I'm having an affair."

"With me."

"Yes."

"Oh, Robin, I–" She stops, stumbling as her eyes shift to Regina. "I don't know."

"Consider it a nice meal and a paid day off," Regina says. "It'll sure beat the peanut butter and jelly sandwich you usually bring."

Belle sighs. "Sometimes I bring tuna and crackers." Both she and Robin laugh as she bites down on her lip. "So, what time would all of this be happening?"

Robin laughs softly, explaining that she'll need to do just a smidgen more than meet him at a restaurant for lunch–and the more he explains, the more relaxed she seems with the idea.

They decide that at around eleven, she'll be waiting outside of the District Attorney's office as thought waiting for a trolly. She'll keep her eye out for Gold and when he emerges, she'll follow him and then give Robin a call at the office. She giggles as she asks if they should have a code word and he laughs in return.

"This is… sort of exciting."

"So, you'll help?"

Belle nods. "Lunch two days in a row, you two are spoiling me."

"I have a feeling you'll be earning your keep tomorrow," Regina says, grinning as she turns to Robin. "And I'm glad that you're here."

"I told you I was stopping by."

"You said might."

"If I figured out where Gold was having is lunch meeting."

Her brow arches. "And how was I supposed to–" Sighing she stops, her eyes shifting to Belle, watching as she dials the phone, and when she looks back to him she makes an effort to be quieter. "Mal is here."

"Is she okay?"

Regina nods. "We got the pictures."

"And–"

"We haven't looked."

"Oh–"

"She's jittery."

"Well, that's understandable."

Regina nods again, clearing her throat and watching as Belle twirls the cord between her fingers. "We'll just be in my office."

"Okay," she murmurs. "I'll let you guys know when it's here."

"Thank you," Regina murmurs.

Robin follows her back and watches as he softens, an empathetic grin edge on to his lips as he spots Mal, sitting on the couch, bouncing her knees and holding onto a manila envelope as though her life depended on it.

"So, those are the infamous pictures."

"They are," Mal says in a small voice, her eyes casting down as she looks at the envelope in her hands. "This is…, so embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?"

"No, it;s–"

"I never wanted anyone to see these… or, at least not have to watch as…" She sighs. "Nevermind."

Regina feels her chest tighten. "You shouldn't be embar–"

"I let him do this to me, Regina," Mal cuts in. "I… let this happen."

"I'm not sure let is the right word," Robin says as he sits beside her. "And I agree with Regina, you have nothing to be embarrassed about."

Regina draws in a breath as she sinks down on the other side of Mal, stretching her arm around her. "We can do this after–"

"No," Mal cuts in. "Let's just… get this over with."

Regina holds her breath as she hands the envelope to Regina and then focuses her attention her lap, fidgeting with her fingers. Robin rubs her arm as watches her finger slip beneath the envelope flap, pulling out a stack of pictures, all the same size and wrapped in parchment–and her chest tightens again at the thickness of the pile.

"They go in order," Mal says. "Newest first, and they're dated on the back. Most of them are taken the same day or the next morning, but a few… um… a few are a couple of days later." She swallows hard and takes a breath, slowly releasing it without looking up. "Sometimes I, um… I needed a few days to, um… recover."

Regina can only manage a nod as she unwraps the pictures, her stomach already churning and her eyes already burning with tears threatening to form.

"If you, um… needed to corroborate the, um… the dates, you could probably match them against hairstyles in other pictures and–"

"Oh, Mal," Regina manages as tears well in her eyes as she looks down at the first photograph in the stack. "Oh my god."

In the photo, Mal's eyes are closed, showing off a dark bruise over her eye. There's another and her lip is bloody–and as Regina looks up, she watches as Robin's arm folds around Mal's shoulders, holding her as he stares down at the picture.

"That one was… after a fundraiser," she explains, "I think a few months ago. I, um–that was in a hotel room at the Waldorf. That was… um… the last time before I… well, you know."

"What happened?"

"Oh," she murmurs. "Um, I was stupid–"

"Mal–"

"I should have known bet–"

"Mal–" Regina cuts in again. "You aren't to blame for this."

She nods, but it's clear that she doesn't quite believe that. "One of the other wives was… drunk and… bored and we…" She sighs. "We went upstairs to get away from the smoke and… one thing led to another and… it was stupid."

"Mal–"

"I could tell that she liked me and her husband wasn't paying her any attention, and–" She sighs. "I didn't think it'd go as far as it did and I didn't think we'd get caught," she admits. "Then, all of the sudden Stefan stumbled in and…well… that happened."

"He caught you in bed with her?" Regina asks, her voice tentative as she looks between Mal and the photograph. "Or–"

"No," Mal murmurs. "We were just kissing."

"So–"

"I'm not even sure that he saw anything, but we were both flustered and… he could easily piece it all together," she tells them, finally looking up. "Like I said, I should've–"

'No," Robin cuts in. "No matter what you did, you didn't deserve that."

"Do you, um… do you remember her name?"

Mal blinks as her eyes shift to Regina. "I don't want to involve her."

"Mal, if she saw Stefan–"

"She didn't see anything," Mal insists. "He waited until she was gone."

Regina swallows again as her eyes fall to the photograph and drawing in a long, deep breath, she musters the courage to flip to the next one–again and again, she looks through the photographs, tears spilling over her cheeks. Not everyone is as gruesome as the first and Mal explains that most of the time, he tried to avoid her face because it made it easier to hide. But there are photographs of bruises along her neck and back, on her arms and ribs, and in one particular photo something that looks like a cigar burn on the nape of her neck.

Every now and then, she hears Robin mutter a reaction, but she can't bring herself to look away and all the while, she can't help but think of how avoidable this was, that none of it had to happen–and her heart aches.

She flips to another picture and her breath catches–finding it so much worse than the rest. Mal is laying down and her eyes are barely open, the skin around her eyes too bruised and swollen for her to do much more than squint. There's a cut along her hairline and there's blood matted in her hair, and when she finally musters the courage to look at Mal, she finds her staring at it with a far-off and almost disconnected gaze.

"A lot of the time he made excuses–that'd I'd fallen after having too much to drink or had an accident due to my own carelessness, and if my bruises were too difficult to hide, he'd locked me in my room and tell everyone that I'd gone off to Paris or Milan or Morocco to shop." Drawing in a shaky breath. "But this one, even he knew that he'd crossed a line. He made up some elaborate story about how he'd found me at our house in the Hamptons–nevermind that he brought me there after the fact–and that someone had broken in. I'd apparently gotten in their way." Blinking back her tears she lifts the photo. "This was about three days after the…um… the incident."

Regina's stomach lurches as Robin draws a breath, squeezing Mal a little closer.

"He cleaned me up and then cleaned up the mess he made of the house, and he pretended to be a doting and concerned husband and whenever the nurse was out of earshot, he'd tell me all of the terrible things he'd do to me if I told." She scoffs at the memory. "I don't know how I'd have managed to tell anyone. I was so swollen that I could barely talk and I didn't even remember what I done to–"

"Nothing," Regina cuts in. "You did nothing to deserve what he did to you."

"Wh-when did all of this start?" Robin asks, clearing his throat as he blinks back tears. "I mean, for how long–"

"Um, it wasn't always this bad."

"Mal, when, though?" Regina asks, reaching out and taking her hand. "After a month? A year? Five years?"

She nods. "Um, well, the first time wasn't… quite like that," she admits. "He grabbed me and threw me back, and…" She sighs. "It got worse over time."

"You didn't answer the question," Regina says gently, her voice tentative as she rubs her thumb over the back of her wrist. "Mal, when did this start?"

She hesitates, looking up and looking between them. "The first time was… a fluke, I thought," she admits. "It was just before we got engaged. He was drunk and–"

"Before you were engaged," Regina says, her eyes widening as they shift to Robin, watching the same understanding filling his eyes. "So, when we were–"

"It was better when he had Rose. He left me alone."

"And after–"

"It got worse, slowly."

Regina's eyes pressed closed, thinking about the explained-away bruises she'd notice from time to time and the feat that always ran through her when it seemed they might be caught–something that hadn't developed until much later in their relationship. She'd never said anything–but neither she nor Robin had ever pressed the issue, taking her excuses at face value and never thinking to doubt them.

"But after we were married, it just…" Her voice trails off as she stares at the stack of pictures. "He was stuck and he hated me for it." she murmurs, her voice barely audible. "He–"

"Why?" Robin asks. "Why did he marry you if–"

"The money," she says simply. "Our fathers' fortunes were connected. He had to marry me if he wanted all of it." She shrugs. "It didn't matter the sight of me made him sick, that he thought I was vile and–" She stops. "The silver lining was that I was fairly certain he wouldn't kill me. He needed me."

"For the money."

"But I think knowing that only made him angier." She pauses and looks between them, tears glistening in her eyes. "It was like the cycle we were caught in, it just… kept going and going and it would've continued on until one of us ended it."

"W-hy didn't you tell us?" Regina asks, her voice cracking. "If this was happening while we were together, why didn't you tell us?"

"We could've–"

"No," Mal says, cutting Robin off as the saddest of smiles pulls onto her face. "You two were my escape, and if you knew, well… then it wouldn't have been an escape anymore and I so desperately needed an escape."

Momentarily, Robin's eyes meet hers, and he looks just as devastating as she does–just as angry and helpless and heartbroken. Releasing another shaky breath, she scoots closer to Mal wrapping her arms around her. She has a thousand questions, but she can't quite find the voice to ask them. Robin pulls Mal closer, pressing a kiss to her hair as her head falls to his shoulder. A little whimper escapes Mal as she struggles against her tears as Robin leans back and pulls her down with him, holding her against his chest. Regina leans in, too, pressing herself against Mal's other side as though it were possible to make up for all the things they weren't able to comfort her when she actually needed them.

"I'm bored," Mal announces, looking over at them from her spot in the window seat. "We should do something."

Lifting her head from Robin's lap, Regina looks over at her as she folds her book down over her stomach. "It's almost ten–and snowing."

A little chuckle rises of from Robin. "Did you have something specific in mind?"

Regina's eyes roll, but Mal smiles. "Something wintery."

"What's more wintery than staying inside, wearing two pairs of pajamas, wool socks and slippers and doing whatever you can to not go outside." Regina grins as Mal sighs. "You could always come over her and cuddle."

"Tempting–"

Robin chuckles softly. "When I was a kid, John and I we used to love when the lake froze. We he didn't have skates but–"

"That's what we should do."

"Mal, it's–"

"Freezing, I know."

"I was going to say late," Regina says, sitting up as she looks to Robin. "Maybe tomorrow, we can–"

"Why not go tonight?" Robin asks, looking between them and laughing as her brows arch. "What?"

"The rink is closed."

"So?"

"So, I'd rather not be arrested for breaking and entering."

"For starters," Mal says, practically bouncing up from the window seat. "It's outside, so we aren't technically breaking in–" Regina rolls her eyes again as Mal comes to sit on the edge of the couch, smirking as her brow arches– "and just think of how disappointed your mother would be."

"I'm in no short supply of disappointment."

"It'll be fun–"

"It will," Robin agrees. "And we'll have whole rink to ourselves."

"And what about skates?" She asks, looking to him. "I don't own any and neither do you."

"There's a cabinet filled with pairs for rent."

"It's locked."

"Like that's ever stopped me," he scoffs. "Besides, you don't need skates to go skating."

Regina's just blinks in response–it's all that she has time to do before Mal grabs hold of her hand. "Come on, Regina. It'll be fun."

She sighs as she feels her resolve diminishing as Robin's hand presses to her back. "Come on, love. Live a little."

She shoots him a look, but sighs as Mal gives her hand another squeeze. "Fine, but when we all catch pneumonia–"

"You'll be able to say I told you so."

They all dress quickly–thick layers over thick layers, hats, scarves and doubled-up gloves–then pile into Mal's car, cranking up the heat. She turns on the radio and Robin slides his arm around her shoulders–and thought she is still adamantly opposed to the idea, she feels a bit of excitement bubbling up inside of her.

Only a few minutes later, they arrive the rink. Robin's the first one out, jogging over to the clearly-marked-closed concession and skate rental stand. He fidgets with the lock for a few minutes, and then turns around, grinning victoriously at them from the car–and by the time she and Mal reach the stand, Robin has two pair of skates in their sizes sitting atop the counter.

Mal grabs them both and tugs her toward one of the benches. She shivers as she pulls off her boots and pushes her feet into the skates, and as Robin sits down on the bench across from them, she takes one last opportunity to protest–and once again, her complaints go unheard.

Robin tugs her up as Mal finishes lacing up her skates, and she watches as he looks up at the snowy sky, grinning as big flakes of snow flutter down around him. He pulls her onto the ice and spins them both around and within minutes, she's laughing and dizzy. He lets her go and she glides along the ice, feeling carefree and light. She bumps into Mal, whose arm slips around her waist and she grins as she leans in to peck her lips, before pushing herself away.

They all spend a while aimlessly gliding and spinning around on the ice as snow cascades down around them, glittering and cold. She catches a snowflake on her glove and looks at it, smiling as Robin skates up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist. She draws in a breath and slowly lets it out, watching as her breath clouds in front of her, and when he asks if she's having a good time, without reluctance, she admits that she is.

Mal joins them as the wind starts to pick up, slipping her arm around Regina's waist as she looks up at Robin–and Regina's heart flutters a bit as Robin reaches out and pushes her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She leans in and pecks his lips before laughing out and tugging Regina away.

Regina finds herself laughing too as she looks up at the falling snow, letting Mal spin her. She lets her go and once again, she coats over the ice, glad when Robin catches her and pulls her close again.

As the snow starts to fall harder, the ice becomes less smooth, making skating difficult, and when it starts to become harder for them to see, Mal frowns and tells them that it's probably time to go. Robin nods in agreement as she feels her disappointment brimming-and without irony, she tells them she's glad they made her come.

They return the skates to their slots in the cabinet, and she pulls on her boots, watching as Robin stuffs a five dollar bill into one of the skates before locking it back up, and other wise leaving it as they found it. Once everything is put away, they pile back into Mal's car and drive back to the apartment, all shivering and red-cheeked.

"You know," Robin says as he turns their key into the front door of the diner. "I could really go for some spiced cider right about now."

"We don't have any," Regina sighs. "I drank the last of it after dinner."

"Granny does, though."

"The diner is closed."

Mal giggles as Robin's eyes roll. "And your point is….?"

"You can't steal cider from Granny."

"I'll leave cash on the counter."

"That's not the same, Robin."

Mal slips into one of the booths as Regina sighs again, watching as Robin rounds the counter and heads back for the kitchen–and when she sees the soft light from the refrigerator open, she resigns herself to what's happening and slides into the booth across from Mal. "The two of you are going to get me into trouble one of these days."

"But you'll have had fun in the process."

"I suppose," Regina murmurs, looking away as a smirk spread across her lips. "Tonight was fun."

"I told you it would be."

"I wanted to finish my novel, though," she says looking back as Mal laughs. "What?"

"You're so stubborn."

"I know," she grins. "It's part of my charm."

"You could call it that," Mal says as she pushes her feet up onto to booth opposite herself, resting her feet beside Regina. "And that novel will be waiting exactly where you left it for however long you leave it."

"I know."

"My cheeks are burning though."

"It was cold–"

"And you'd better not gloat if I've got frostbite or–"

"Alright, ladies," Robin calls as he comes toward them with a tray of deserts. "The cider's warming and it looks like there are some single slices of pie leftover. There–"

"Is that Dutch apple?"

He grins as her eyes widen as she tries to peer over the edge of the tray. "It is."

"That one's mine."

"How shocking," Robin says, smirking as he hands her the plate. "I'd have never guessed."

"Another part of my charm."

Mal giggles as Regina picks up a fork and stabs it into one of the cinnamon-glazed apples on the plate. "And for us," Robin says. "There's a slice of cherry and… I think banana creme."

"We could split them, each have a little of both."

Blinking, Regina looks up from her plate as she shoves the apple into her mouth. "I'm not sharing."

"We wouldn't dare ask," Robin says, setting the other two plates beside Mal. "Now, I'll be back with the cider."

Mal nods as Robin disappears again. "You know," she says as she picks up a fork and twirls it between her fingers. "You've never said how this apple obsession started."

"It's not an ob–" She stops as Mal's brow arches. "Fine," she sighs. "I've had this obsession for as long as I can remember. I've just always loved the smell and the taste and–" A little laugh rises up from her as she remembers her father lifting her onto his shoulders so she could reach one of the ripe fruits from the tree in their backyard. "My father planted some seeds when I was born and he always told me it was my special tree and–I don't know–that sort of stuck."

"That's really sweet."

"And so whenever I have anything apple, I… I think of him and just feel… warm." She grins. "I like that feeling."

"You don't talk much about your parents."

"I know," Regina admits. "My mother and I had a falling out and–my father tries, but…"

"It's hard."

"Yea," she nods. "He and my mother aren't terribly close, but–"

"He's stuck with her."

Regina nods as she presses her fork into the pie crust, suddenly thinking that Mal would understand her father's position better than anyone. But before she can say anything, Robin returns carrying three steaming mugs of cider. He pushes a much in front of each of them and takes the last for himself, then slides into the booth beside Mal and picks up a fork, stabbing it into the tip of the cherry pie.

They fall into an easier, lighter conversation than the one she and Mal had been headed toward–and then it halts as Robin notices a bit of whipped cream at the corner of Mal's mouth. Her eyes widen as she swipes her hand over her mouth, completely missing the whipped cream. Regina laughs as she stabs her fork into a particularly cinnamon-y apple as Robin sets down his fork, leaning in and kissing away the whipped cream. A smile draws onto her lips as Mal turns to kiss him–and for a moment, she just sits there, eating her pie and watching them kiss, feeling warm and content.

And then the lights flip on.

Mal pushes him away as her cheeks flush and Regina finds herself whirling around to see Granny standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"I heard voices," she says, yawing as she shakes her head. "Thought I was being robbed."

"Oh, no–"

"I'm sorry," Regina begins. "We–"

"Did you kids lock up when you came in?"

"We did," Regina assures her.

"Are you eating my pies?"

"Just the left–"

Granny waves her hand dismissively as she yawns again as her eyes steady on Robin. "And you left the money in the usual spot?"

"Of course, I did–and a bit extra."

Granny snorts and grins. "The tip for the heart attack you three caused."

"Sorry about that," Regina murmurs, smiling a built guiltily. "And we'll clean up after ourselves. Promise."

"Alright then," she says, already half turned back to the stairs. "Enjoy yourselves."

They all wait until they hear Granny's door open and close, both she and Robin focusing on Mal. "I don't think she–"

"I nearly swallowed my tongue!" Mal says in a loud whisper.

"No, you nearly swallowed mine," Robin says, chuckling softly as both she and Mal dissolve into a fit of nervous giggles.

Everytime she closes her eyes, she sees an image of Mal beaten and bloody, and all alone, and her stomach aches–and no matter which way she turns, she can't seem to let herself relax.

They'd spent a quiet night in, ordering Chinese takeout and playing board games as they took turn choosing their favorite old records to play–and at Mal's request, they didn't talk about the pictures.

They'd done their best, but it seemed that every time a quiet moment came upon them, someone's thoughts would drift to that afternoon and inevitably, a heavy feeling would overtake it. Eventually, Mal retired early to bed, feigning a headache. She and Robin cleaned up and had a drink, then joined her, deciding a good night's sleep might do something to alleviate the unsettled feeling they both felt.

But it hadn't worked.

Her eyes flutter open and she rolls onto her side, giving her eyes just a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room–and when they do a soft smile edges onto her lips. Mal is sleeping at her side, looking so peaceful and content

And as her eyes flutter open and she rolls onto her side and though Mal was still asleep beside her, Robin's side of the bed was vacant. The covers her were pulled back and there was a still a dent in his pillow, and as she sat up, she saw a little strip of light from beneath the door.

She finds Robin in the kitchen, sitting at the table with Mal's pictures set out before himself. His jaw is tense and his eyes are bloodshot, and when he looks up at her, all he can do is shake his head.

"I know," she murmurs as she sits down beside him and lets her head drop to his shoulder. "I feel the same way."

"We could have stopped this."

"I know."

"And I'm not blaming her," he says as he lifts one of the pictures. "But I just can't wrap my head around why she married him. He might've been in it for the money, but she wasn't."

"I'm sure she had her reasons, but–"

"She didn't want to marry him."

"I know," she says again. "She was always quite clear about that."

"How did we miss this?" He asks, dropping the picture down and looking at her. "How did we–" He stops and momentarily, his eyes press closed. "After she left, you and I should have…"

"What could we have done?" Regina asks, her heart aching as she reaches for his hand. "By the time we got that letter, she was gone. How would we have found her?"

"After, though," he sighs. "Do you remember the first time we saw her in the paper?"

"Smiling on Stefan's arm at some gala in India."

"That was never what she wanted. She might've been out of reach at first, but it didn't stay that way–"

"I know," she murmurs. "I just ever thought–"

"I didn't either," he supplies when her voice drops off. "I thought at worst, she'd be bored."

"If only…"

Robin picks up another picture and rubs his finger over the image of Mal's jaw. "If he weren't already dead–"

"I'd have killed him already," Regina says. "You wouldn't have gotten the chance."

A sad little grin tugs up at the corner of his mouth. "I keep thinking about Gold and the way he's been pushing for a conviction at any cost, and–"

"These are exactly the sort of images he wouldn't want to see."

"I don't think he'd care," Robin admits. "Remember he suggested I create evidence. He's not interested in actual evidence, especially when its contrary to his goals."

Regina nods and picks up a photograph from the stack. Mal is standing in front of long mirror with her skirt undone and her blouse lifted up to reveal a dark bruise over her ribs. She focused on the bruise for a minute, then at the disheveled room. There's an overturned lap and her dressing table's been cleared, its contents on the floor behind her–and the longer she stares at it, she feels her sadness beginning to boil, not so slowly turning to anger.

"I'm sure the pictures would just… disappear, if they were ever in Gold's possession."

"I just don't see how anyone could look at these pictures and not be affected."

"You've always had more faith in humanity than I–" She stops, her eyes widening as she looks to him. "Robin, you're not considering appealing to Gold's–"

"No," he says too quickly. "That was just a… general assessment," Robin sighs. "But if I can't prove Gold has something to gain in all of this, I… don't know what I'm supposed to do." He looks away and momentarily, his eyes press closed. "Aside from throwing the case."

"Robin, you can't–"

Robin scoffs, not letting her finish. "You've been telling me for years how questionable my ethics are."

"When it matters, you always fall on the right side of things," she tells him as she drops the picture back onto the stack. "You've got a knack for it."

"And who says throwing the case wouldn't be another example of falling on the right side of things."

"I just think there are better ways to–" She stops, offering a sigh as her head falls back. "We're not going to fight about this."

"No," he murmurs. "That wouldn't help anyone."

"Especially not Mal." Taking a breath, she stands and moves to the cabinet, pulling out a bottle of bourbon–an expensive one that'd been an anniversary gift from her father. "How about getting drunk instead?"

"Not sure that'll help, but it might make me feel better," he sighs as he pushes the photographs into a neater pile. "But it might fool me into thinking that I do."

"My hopes exactly," she says, reaching for the glasses. "You know–"

She stops as Robin reaches for the envelope, his brow creasing as he feels something inside of it–and when he turns it over, another smaller envelope falls out of it. For a moment, they both just stare at it. Her stomach churns as Robin reaches for it, slipping his finger beneath the flap–and when he pulls out a smaller stack of pictures, she recognizes them immediately, remember the morning Mal had brought her camera into their bedroom.

"Oh–"

"Regina–" Robin turns one of the photographs for her to see. It's been crumpled up and torn apart, then smoothed out and taped back together–and it shows the three of them, smiling and bare shouldered, and undeniably in bed together.

"He knew," she hears herself say as her stomach drops and her knees go weak, forcing her into the chair with the realization that, at some point, Stefan knew about Mal's affair with them, and that was likely the reason that Mal left so abruptly.