I'm so grateful for all of the messages and the reviews, likes and favorites you've given this story in the past few days! I read each and every message and appreciate the thought that you put into the feedback, so thank you very much for that. It motivates me to keep going!
As always: this is a modern, AU Outlaw Queen fic. I don't claim any ownership over the characters.
I hope you enjoy what is in store for Regina and Robin in this chapter. Happy reading! - Ana / FadedSeptember
Robin beamed as he saw Regina and Henry walking towards them down the sidewalk. Something about seeing his smile prompted Regina to quicken her pace.
"Good morning. And who do we have here?" Robin looked at Henry and stuck out his hand.
"Henry," he said, offering Robin his hand and shaking it.
"So nice to finally meet you, Sir Henry. I'm Robin and this -" he scooped up his young, dimpled dark-haired son into his arms. "-is Roland."
"Hi," said Henry.
"It's nice to meet you," said Regina to the boy, who smiled at her before quickly turning shyly back towards his father.
"He'll get quite talkative in a few minutes," Robin assured Regina and Henry. "In the meantime, let me show you this bookstore, shall I? Roland and I enjoy coming here from time to time. He's found some great books."
"I didn't realize you would be into bookstores and reading," said Regina as they walked.
"Any reason why not?"
She shrugged. "Not really. I suppose I just figure that computer people-"
"Are boring old sods who type away at a screen and eat ramen all day?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
She laughed. "Maybe."
"Well, I'm not. I quite like reading, and not just computer programming manuals: I like medieval history."
"Oh. Well, this is a good city for that, I suppose," said Regina.
He nodded, then turned to Henry, dropping behind Regina to match Henry's slower pace. "So Henry, do you like medieval knights and that sort of thing?"
Henry perked up. "I have Dark Hero 4, it's a video game about a knight."
"Ah, wonderful. Then you do know all about them."
Regina smiled to herself. She loved how this man seemed to have a natural way with the boys. For a moment, she felt a pang of guilt that she couldn't relate to her son in the way that Robin, or even Emma, could… she was the boring mom who worked all the time and wrote about clothes. No wonder he was fed up with her lately.
Robin and Roland led them into a beautiful old shop, with antique paned glass windows that featured a display of books and posters with fanciful drawings of dragons and kings and queens in castles. According to the sign, the shop was called "L'Oiseau Doré."
Inside it was warm and smelled delightfully of paper and ink. Aside from her designer perfumes and candles, the smell of books, old and new, was the scent she liked most in the world. It was a children's bookstore, which was apparent from the colourful drawings and posters decorating the shop, but the books were tastefully set up on wooden tables and small, overstuffed children-sized armchairs were sprinkled around the shop.
Roland squirmed to get out of the grasp of his father's arms, so Robin set him down and he took Henry's hand, eager to show him something at a table in the far corner. Regina observed Henry closely: he didn't exactly have much experience around boys Roland's age, but Henry good-naturedly played along and let Roland show him the book he was so excited about.
Regina turned to Robin. "I appreciate you taking the time to show us this store. I think Henry needed an outing, and I didn't know what to do with him for fun. This city is perfect for my work, but I think it's taking a toll on him."
"In what way?" they were both keeping a close eye on the boys, but that wasn't difficult in the cozy shop, and Robin's gaze left his son and focused on her for a moment.
"It's just so far from home, and what's familiar. He's adapted remarkably well, but with all of the adjustments to my new work schedule here… well, I'm afraid I haven't been giving him the attention I used to," she admitted.
"He's a lovely boy. I'm sure you're doing quite well."
"I don't know. What about Roland? Does he like living in this city"
Robin shrugged. "It's the only city he's ever really known. His mum takes him to the parks, she keeps him well-fed, well-entertained. We both give him attention. It's all he really needs at the moment."
"I suppose. Roland is a nice name, by the way. How did you ever come up with it?"
"Well, as I said, I enjoy medieval history. There's a legendary French hero, Roland, who was a nephew of Charlemagne. I suppose that name stood out to us. A good, solid, name from the middle ages."
"That sounds like quite a storied name for such a little boy," Regina mused.
"And Henry? Any significance to his name? Other than the fact that it has been the name of many English and French kings?"
"Not particularly. My father - a dairy farmer, not a king - is named Henry."
Robin laughed. "Fair enough."
Both of the boys were now thoroughly engrossed in a few of the books that they'd found. Roland had already started gently flipping through a picture book, which he held up for his father to see. Henry had wandered away from the younger kid's picture books over to a table with graphic novels for young readers. Regina strode over to where he was.
"Maybe you can pick out one, Henry? I also see some books in French, one of those might be a good way for you to practice."
Henry shrugged without answering, continuing to flip through a book with an elaborately-illustrated cover.
Robin returned to them, Roland once again in his arms, flipping through a picture book that had a monkey on the cover.
"Hey Henry, I have to show you this one-" Robin picked up a book on the graphic novels table. "This was one of my favorites. I read it recently, about a knight who travels through time. I think you might like it."
Henry perked up. "Really?"
He started gently flipping through the book that Robin had pointed out.
"Are there any good ones in French?" Regina prompted, hoping Robin would take the hint.
"Yeah, of course there are. Look at this one, Henry. Really great story. It's about a kid who discovers he has this power to read some people's minds. And it's in French, but I think you can manage that, can't you?"
"Yeah. That sounds good, too," Henry said, taking a look at the book.
They didn't end up leaving L'Oiseau Doré for nearly an hour. Regina let Henry pick out two books, one in English and the other in French. Regina lingered and watched as Robin interacted with the boys, relieved that Henry had seemed to relax and enjoy himself on this outing. Roland, in the meantime, had tucked himself into a comfy reading chair and was flipping through two books about animals.
When they finally left, everyone was satisfied: Henry picked out two books, both which had come with glowing recommendations from Robin, and Regina bought Roland one of the picture books about animals (he chose the one with the monkey on the cover).
"Where to now, men?" Robin asked the boys as they exited the small shop, Regina trailing behind with the purchases in an elegant white paper shopping bag.
"And ladies," he said, smiling at her, and taking the bag.
"There's nothing that interesting to do in this city," Henry blurted out.
Regina cringed. "Henry-"
"What is that, Henry? I don't think you have the full story there, mate," replied Robin. "This city has been home to some of the best artists, scientists, politicians… people who made the world the way it is today! Even the Romans lived here a long time ago. Hey - didn't you say you liked kings, queens and knights in your video games?"
Henry nodded.
"Well, some of the most important kings and queens used to live in this city, and knights, too. They walked the very streets we are on right now. Do you like Harry Potter? Have you seen the movies?"
Henry nodded again.
"Well, I could show you a museum that has tons of things from medieval times, when kings and kings ruled this land. This museum has suits of armor, battle gear and lots of other relics from olden times. And the museum even has the tapestry that was hanging in the Gryffindor common room in the Harry Potter movies," said Robin.
"Really?'
Robin nodded, fostering excitement. "If your mum is interested, we can go there today. Roland and I have been there before, but we'd be glad to show you around, wouldn't we?"
Roland nodded, smiling a bright, dimply smile. "Yeah! I really like the knights in the museum."
"Okay," Henry agreed.
Robin glanced over at Regina, his eyebrows raised. "What do you think?"
She smiled warmly, and held up her hands in surrender. "It's up to you boys to decide today."
"Well, come on then!" Robin said, motioning for them all to walk back to the metro station.
..•..
Regina doubted the ability for a museum to keep Henry occupied - it was not, after all, a video game, comic book, or Harry Potter movie - but when they arrived at the Musée de Cluny, filled with artifacts from the middle ages including pictures and sculptures of knights and kings, Henry was captivated. They wandered through the old stone building's many rooms, gazing at displays of art and artifacts of knights and jousting and sword fighting, complemented by Robin's engaging narrative.
Regina trailed after them, listening as Robin talked about all of the medieval things on display, from middle age board games to the magnificent "Lady and the Unicorn" tapestries that Henry did, in fact, recognize from the Harry Potter movies.
Regina recognized them from her college art history textbooks, and dwelled as long as she possibly could in the room where they were magnificently displayed.
"Superlative," she sighed, as she stood in front of the largest of the series of tapestries. The rich colours of the ornately-woven work depicted a woman, the Lady, being presented with gifts while a unicorn and lion watched over her.
"À mon seul desir," she whispered under her breath, reading the writing depicted on the tapestry above the Lady.
"My only desire," translated Robin, who had quietly approached her from behind.
Regina didn't turn, continuing to gaze at the tapestry, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"If I remember correctly from my college art history class, this one depicts the Lady renouncing her worldly desires - taste, hearing, sight, smell, touch - that she had experienced in the other tapestries. In this final piece, she chooses her own free will above all other senses that hold her captive," recited Regina.
"But that is only one interpretation," countered Robin softly. "The story I've heard is that the Lady is in love in this one. She finally recognizes lust, or love, as a sense, and with it all the magnificent, heightened consciousness that comes with being in love. It is the most noble of all worldly experiences. According to this work."
Regina turned around to face him. "And what do you believe, Mr. Moonlights-as-a-Medieval-Historian?"
"Why can't both interpretations be correct?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Their eyes connected for a beat too long, and then neither one of them wanted to break the gaze.
"Papa?" Little Roland was tugging at Robin's knee to get his attention.
"Yes, my boy?" Robin scooped him up in his arms.
"I'm tired," he said, planting his face into Robin's neck.
"Ah, yes, it is getting rather late into the afternoon. I need to get you back home to your mother."
"Oh," Regina said, biting her lip and glancing around for Henry, who had gone to the next room over and was studying a photo of a battle. "I'm so sorry we took up your whole day."
"Not at all. This was a lovely afternoon. We were glad you decided to let us show you around."
"Would you like to come over later, after you take him home? I was going to make lasagna for dinner," she lied. "There will be plenty."
"All right. How could I resist?" he said.
Regina smiled broadly. "Good. Come by around seven, then?"
..•..
They parted ways, Robin carrying a sleepy Roland and Regina leading her relatively content son back to their neighbourhood, ducking into the small nearby grocer to pick up all of the necessary ingredients for the lasagna right before they got home. The truth was that she hadn't made lasagna in ages, though she'd watched her grandmother make it many times as a child and basically knew how to put it together. It had been the first thing that came to mind when she made that split-second decision to invite Robin for dinner.
She and Henry wove in and out of the small, crowded aisles as quickly as she could. Henry seemed tired, and she vowed to let him play a few hours of video games to wind down from their medieval adventure that afternoon while she pulled the lasagna together.
It wasn't exactly the kind of dinner you just throw together, but once she managed to get Henry settled back at the apartment, she got both the tomato and béchamel sauces going, sautéed the meat, onions, garlic and spices until they were fragrant, and had just finished boiling the pasta when the buzzer sounded to announce that Robin had arrived.
She quickly checked everything in the kitchen to make sure it would all be ok for the 30 seconds it took to let Robin in, and wiped her hands on her apron before buzzing him up. While she waited for him to climb the stairs, she did a quick last-minute check of herself in the mirror that was propped up over the fireplace.
"Good evening - whoa, it smells amazing in here," he said as he stepped inside.
"Thank you," Regina said, accepting the bottle of red wine that she held out to her and closing the door.
"Something a little milder than the whiskey to go with dinner while you're son's around," he said in a low voice, grinning mischievously.
"Of course…" she replied, feeling her cheeks flush.
"Please, come in. I hope you don't mind watching me put this together. It'll just be a few minutes and then we'll let it bake in the oven for a bit."
"I don't mind watching at all," he said, moving into the kitchen.
Regina felt his eyes on her. The way he said it was somewhat suggestive. He wasn't being too aggressive, but the weight of his words were there. She knew what he was saying, but he was leaving it open ended. To let her know that the next move was on her.
After assembling the lasagna, she finally slid it into the oven, dwelling just a little bit longer than necessary as she bent over and placed it on the rack. Then she closed the oven door, placed a hand on her hip, and turned around to socialize with Robin.
"There," she said, exhaling. "Would you be kind enough to open that bottle of wine you brought?"
"Already done," he said, and she saw that Robin had indeed helped himself to two glasses from her cupboard and filled them with the ruby red liquid.
"Wonderful," she said, smiling. "Please, sit down at the table."
Before she joined him, she checked on Henry, tucked in his room, lying in his bed, his new book open.
"Dinner will be done in about a half hour, all right? You can join us at the table if you want."
"Okay," he said, without looking up from the page.
She returned to Robin and her wine glass.
"Are those more of your photographs?" Robin asked her, motioning towards the modern black and white framed prints she had propped up around the mirror on the antique fireplace mantel.
Regina nodded. "Yes. I took those when I was in Connecticut one summer with Henry."
"They're beautiful," he said, looking at the various prints of sunlight filtering through trees, of Henry running barefoot through the grass, of a pond with a tiny boat tied to a wooden dock.
"I love photography. Not as much as writing, granted, but quite a bit. I'm fortunate my new job requires that I go out and take photos from time to time."
She untied her crisp white apron before sitting at the table. She was wearing a grey dress with a gently draped collar. It looked a little severe for a Saturday night, she suddenly realized, regretting that she hadn't changed when she got home. The dress had seemed like a better idea in the afternoon when they were wandering around town, since it had looked nice underneath her black trench coat.
But then, as she noticed Robin's eyes lingering on her décolletage, she realized she could have made a worse choice.
She sat down, her impeccably-manicured hands with deep ruby - almost black - polish wrapping around the wine glass.
"My feet are killing me. You had us on quite the tour of the city this afternoon," she said.
"Ah, well, as nice as you looked, I also noticed you weren't wearing the most comfortable of shoes."
"I see plenty of women in this city wearing impractical shoes. I am but one of many," she said defensively.
"You looked lovely, but I hate to see you in pain."
"I'm fine. Did Roland get back to his mother?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"Ah. Good." Regina was curious about this woman. Unfortunately, she couldn't think of any way to ask about her without it seeming like she was prying.
Robin sighed. "Roland wanted to come over here for dinner when I told him I'd be seeing you again tonight. I think he likes you."
"Oh," Regina said. "Well, I do hope that I will see him again."
Robin nodded. "I am just building up my relationship with the boy again. I was, well, away… for a while, when he was younger. His mother and I, see, we weren't ever married…"
"Oh," Regina said. "Well, nor were Henry's father and I."
"Ah. Then you probably know how it is. He was a surprise. His mother, Marion, and I were in a relationship for a few months. By the time she found out she was pregnant, both of us had decided we were in different parts of our lives. It wasn't meant to be. When Roland came along… he was the best thing to ever happen to me, but I had some things to, well, deal with from before. I'm afraid his mother was in charge of parenting for a long while until I could have a real relationship with him. Fortunately, she is agreeable to letting me see him, even though she is still - understandably - quite protective."
"Roland is such a nice young boy. I have no doubt she is a good mother," Regina finally said, curious about this past that Robin was ducking around, but knowing there was no polite way to dig deeper.
Robin smiled somewhat wistfully. "She is, indeed. We met - and this is incredibly nerdy - at a Medieval and Renaissance-type Fair. She's a specialist on medieval art for Sotheby's in Paris, so that's how we hit it off."
Regina smiled. "That is rather nerdy of you. But at least you weren't dressed as, say, Robin Hood. Or she as Maid Marian."
Robin bit his lip and looked at her guiltily.
"Oh, don't tell me you were?"
He laughed. "Sorry. But it was an obvious choice for both of us - and quite the ice breaker."
They both took a sip of wine.
"It was a long time ago. I wouldn't trade Roland for anything in the world."
"I wish Henry had gotten to know his father," said Regina.
"Oh?"
"He passed away unexpectedly, when Henry was only two. He doesn't remember him."
"I'm sorry to hear it."
Regina shrugged. "It was a long time ago."
They talked for a while longer, sipping their wine, listening to the soft music Regina had put on, a sort of new-age style tango drifting from her computer.
Suddenly, a strange smell wafted under her nose. In the next moment, Henry emerged from his room. Regina jumped up as Henry announced exactly what had just crossed her mind.
"Mom, I think the lasagna is burning."
..•..
They ate the lasagna anyways, Robin assuring Regina that only the edges had "browned." To her disappointment, the lasagna was way too dark on top, the edges quite burnt, and overall the dish was dry and less flavorful than she remembered. At least she'd managed to put together a nice side salad, and along with a few slices of garlic bread from a fresh baguette, they still had enough to eat.
"Normally mom's lasagnas are pretty good," offered Henry, after they'd eaten what they could. "This is way worse than usual."
"I have no doubt her lasagna is delicious," Robin said warmly, patting his mouth with a napkin. "Because despite its imperfections, this one is the best lasagna I've had in a long time - perhaps ever."
"You really don't need to say that," said Regina, regarding him suspiciously, while mentally kicking herself.
Why, tonight of all nights, had she forgotten to set the timer on the oven?
"I'll have you over again," she announced, the wine having made her a bit more direct than usual. "I assure you it will be perfect next time."
"I would come over again even if you were to serve me the same, vaguely burnt lasagna."
Regina cleared her throat and stood up nervously. "Henry, will you help me take some of these dishes into the kitchen?"
Henry stood up and carried his plate in, and Robin trailed with several other dishes.
"You don't have to, Robin."
"No, it's the rules. You cook dinner, I do dishes."
"Whose rules?" Regina asked. "I'm not making my guest do the dishes."
"Nonsense. Go. Spend time with Henry, and I'll clean up here." He urged her out of the kitchen, and began filling the small sink with water.
"There's no room in here for all of us to gather around - please, go, let me do this." he insisted.
Regina laughed. "Fine. Henry, why don't you go show me how much you've read in your book?"
One glance at a clock, and Regina realized it was well after 10. Henry usually went to bed by 10 or so on weekends. While Robin cleaned, she urged him to get his pajamas on and brush his teeth. When his nightly routine was finished, she read to him from one of the books that he'd chosen from the bookshop, and by about a quarter to eleven he had nodded off.
Regina carefully put the book back on his little bedside table and clicked off the lamp. She gingerly walked out of the room, gently closing the French doors behind her.
She dimmed all of the lights in the living room, leaving only one small light on her desk on, and went into the kitchen to check on Robin. He had dried all of the dishes with a towel and was neatly stacking them all back onto the shelf over the sink. For a moment, she was oddly entranced by this display of domesticity. It had been ages since anyone had done her dishes. In fact, she tried to think back to when it was. Maybe when her mother had visited her once?
"Thank you," she said quietly, and he turned towards her, smiling broadly.
"Why, thank you for dinner," he replied, his eyes sparkling.
She sighed softly. "The burnt dinner," she corrected.
"It was delicious and the company was even better. And I will hold you to inviting me back for another taste test of a lasagna," he said.
She smiled.
"So…" he set the dish towel down on the counter, then hesitated.
There was silence, as Regina sucked in a breath and quickly tried to calculate her next move. He was definitely waiting. After a day with her, showing her and Henry around, subtle-but-not-subtle flirting, lingering glances, and dishes, she knew it was her turn.
But somehow - here, in this apartment, with Henry in the other room - she let the moment linger for too long, and it passed.
"Well," Robin said finally, breaking the silence. "It is late, and I do need to get home."
"Right," said Regina softly, it hitting her that she'd missed her chance for the evening. "We need to… tomorrow."
Her voice trailed off. Tomorrow was Sunday, and there was no work. For either of them.
Robin simply nodded, and she followed him to the door.
"Goodnight, Regina," he said in a low, smooth voice, a voice that, after a day of kindness and attention that he had given to both her and her son, managed to make her insides swirl and her hands a little jittery as she held out his soft brown leather jacket for him.
"Night," she said, and he disappeared down the stairwell.
She padded to her bedroom, gazing out at the night sky. The city was too bright to see any stars, but she found her neighbours' windows lit up against the night sky to be equally comforting. She stepped onto her narrow terrace. Below, Robin emerged from the building and began to walk down the sidewalk.
And that was the moment Regina stopped thinking so much.
She ran out of her apartment, barely time to slip into a pair of flats, not grabbing a coat to protect against the chill of the night air. She closed the door, didn't lock it, but had at least some sense to grab her keys so she could go all the way outside the main door. She practically flew down those stairs, and finally, out into the night air. She gazed in the direction she had seen Robin turn, and to her relief, he hadn't gotten far at all.
She didn't allow herself the time to obsess over any aspect of the moment. She strode quite purposefully towards him. He, meanwhile, turned and in the few seconds it took for her to reach him, observed her, his back against the smooth white stone of a neighboring building.
Without saying anything, she strode up to him, pressed herself towards him, and kissed him with all of the force and energy she had been bottling up that day.
It took him a second to catch on, then catch on he did. A moment later, she pulled away, looking at him, studying him, making sure that he was all right with the situation.
He was, apparently, because he moved towards her now and kissed her again.
They stayed on the sidewalk for several minutes, Letting themselves drift in and out of their kisses, the cool night air gently swirling around them as they were caught up in each other… back and fourth, back and fourth.
Their reverie was broken many minutes later as a man shuffled by them and let out a low whistle. Regina and Robin pulled apart, finally, a hand dropping from the back of her neck where his fingers had laced into her hair and he took her hand. They both laughed lightly and were smiling, their eyes soft and their fingers lazily winding together. Robin put his chin on top of her head, she now much shorter than him without her usual heels on.
"I have to go back in," she said after long moments, nodding towards her building. "Henry's up there."
"I'm glad you came back outside. This was a wonderful way to end a wonderful day," he said in a low voice.
"And to think, I'd been in such a bad mood this morning - and thought you'd never talk to me again after I'd been so crabby with you last week," she mused.
"You were crabby, but also very easy to forgive, somehow," he said, lightly tracing her neck just below her ear with the back of his hand.
"I want you to come upstairs," she said, lifting her chin up and whispering towards his ear.
His other hand squeezed hers and his body grew rigid for a moment.
"Are you sure?" he whispered back.
She thought for a moment, then sighed heavily.
"No," she admitted. "Not with Henry there… I'm not sure I'd be comfortable quite yet."
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Then let's wait. There will be a better time."
He gave her a kiss which started out simple enough, but quickly deepened. A few minutes later, Regina pulled away again.
"I really have to go back home," she repeated, smiling.
He smiled, too, his eyes still latched on to hers.
"Goodnight, darling," he said, and they went their separate ways in the dark night.