Regina bristles as she hears Robin's key turn in the lock–and she knows she's being irrational. She shouldn't be annoyed–much less jealous–but she can't help it. She is.

Drawing in a breath, she picks up the book from her nightstand and opens it to a random page and pretends to read–trying her best to look immersed in it. But her jaw is tense and her shoulders are tight–and it only worsens as she hears Robin's footsteps on the stairs.

"I wasn't sure if you'd still be up," he says, offering her an easy smile as he comes into the room, pulling off his shirt and tossing it into the hamper. "But I'm glad you are."

"Mm-hmm," she murmurs she looks up over the top of the book. "Are you hungry? We made up a plate for you–lasagna and caprese salad, and the boys even saved you a brownie."

"That sounds incredible," he says as he flops down on the bed beside her. "But I already ate."

"Oh."

He blinks up at her. "Mary Margaret and I just ordered some take out from Granny's…and…" He pauses as her jaw tightens. "You're upset."

"No," she says too quickly. "I'm not upset."

Robin's eyes narrow, "Then why do you look like you're about to turn that book to dust?"

"What?" She asks, looking down at her fingers, tightly clenching the cover of the paperback book and denting the cover. "It's just… a suspenseful read."

"Ah, yes, Hemingway was known for keeping his readers on the edge of their seats." Her brow creases as she looks to him and then down at the book, and from the corner of her eye, she sees a little grin edge onto his lips. "So is it his description of a tree or a lake or… maybe a fish… that has you so… on edge?"

Rolling her eyes, she drops the book. "I'm not upset."

"Regina…" he murmurs as his hand falls to her thigh.

"I'm not."

"But you are."

"I shouldn't be," she says, rolling her eyes before looking to him. "I have no reason to be upset."

Sighing, her head falls back against the pillow and her eyes close–and when they do, she can clearly see Robin and Mary Margaret standing at the back of the library laughing together when she arrived to pick up Henry and Roland.

Robin and Mary Margaret had been spending an increasing amount of time together planning a science fair at the elementary school–something Mary Margaret planned annually, and Robin had generously volunteered to help with.

"So… are you going to tell me why you're upset or are you going to make me guess."

"It's ridiculous," she breathes out as she lifts her head, forcing a smile on to her face. "Just forget about it. It's nothing. Really."

His fingers knead gently at the blanket over her legs. "So, it… wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that I spent the last few evenings with Mary Margaret working on preparing for the science fair." Grimacing, she sighs–it sounds even pettier when he says it aloud. "Regina, you know there's nothing going on there."

"I know," she says, nodding as she looks at him. "I know that."

"And you know that I love you."

"I know."

His eyes narrow a little as he continues to knead at her thigh. "Yet…"

"I told you it was ridiculous," she tells him in a small voice as she picks the book up and sets it on the nightstand. "Forget it. Let's just go to bed."

He chuckles softly and pulls himself up beside her, rolling onto his side and propping his head up in his hand. "Or we could talk about it."

"I really don't want to do that."

He sighs and nods. "I'm sor–"

"Don't do that," she cuts in. "Don't apologize because I'm… insecure."

"I know that Mary Margaret is… a bit of a sore spot and there's a lot of history between the two of you, and I should have been a little more considerate. I just didn't realize it bothered you."

"Well, it didn't."

"Until…"

"This afternoon," she tells him, turning to face him as she lets out a breath. "When I came to pick up the boys you two were laughing about something and, for just a second I stood there thinking…" she shakes her head and looks away as her cheeks flush a little, "…how she's the sort of person you should be with, how right the two of you seemed together… how well-suited…"

For a moment, he doesn't say anything–and her press closed. Her cheeks warm and her head falls forward, and though she can't quite figure out what it is that she's feeling, it's not something that's completely unfamiliar to her–and it's a feeling she'd once learned to channel into rage.

"And then you said you'd be here for dinner and…"

"I sent you a text about that. We just got caught up in planning."

"I know," she's quick to say as she looks back to him. "You didn't do anything wrong, Robin. This is… this is all on me."

He sighs and nods, and she hates how guilty he looks. "But then nine turned into eleven and…"

"And I just… I started thinking… and thinking and…" She shakes her head, remembering how she'd let herself get caught up in improbable and unfounded scenarios about Robin and Mary Margaret–about two heroes finding themselves increasingly attracted to one another, laughing together and realizing how much they had in common, falling in love with a person worthy of their affection. "And then I just… couldn't stop."

"Regina, nothing is–"

"I know," she cuts in. "This is… more of a hypothetical concern."

Reaching out, he stretches his arm across her, gently rubbing at her hip. "I'm not, nor have I ever been, interested in Mary Margaret Blanchard. She's my friend, and that's all she'll ever be." He pauses for a minute and his fingers press a little harder into her skin. "Besides, I spent years and years and years pining over you. There's not even the slightest chance I'd do something that could even potentially screw this up."

"But… what if I do?"

"What?'

"What if I screw it up," she says, looking back at him. "What if I just can't help myself?"

"That's impossible."

"Is it?" She asks, scoffing as she shakes her head. "I'm really good at sabotaging the good things I have in my life… when I have them, and I've never had something this long."

"So, you feel like… that's coming."

"Maybe," she sigh. "I… I don't know."

"It won't. I won't let it," he says, his voice full of confidence as he smiles at her. "I won't let anything come between us."

"Not even an… irrationally jealous girlfriend."

"Hardly," he says, leaning in and dropping a quick kiss to her shoulder. "You know, you could come to our science fair meetings. You are the parent of one of the participants and as mayor, you've every right to take an interest in what's going on at the school." He shrugs. "We could use the help, actually."

"That's… not really my thing."

Blinking, he looks to her. "You do realize that I watched you help Henry with his project. I watched the way your eyes lit up when you were mixing the baking soda with the dish soap and vinegar, and the way your eyes lit up when that volcano actually worked. You were more excited than Henry." He grins, laughing softly as his fingers knead at the blanket over her thigh. "Science fairs are absolutely your thing."

"It… was kind of like doing magic," she admits quietly, as a little grin tugs up from one corner of her mouth. "But I wouldn't want to be a third wheel. That's… a little much, even for me."

"Well, you're always welcome," he tells her, as he presses another kiss to her shoulder–this time, sucking gently at his skin. "You still seem tense."

Breathing out, she nods. "I'll be fine in the morning. I just…" She sighs and rolls her shoulder away from him as she settles back against the pillows. "I just need to stop thinking about… the two of you laughing… and…"

"Laughing," he cuts on, as he presses a kiss to her arm. "That's all we were doing."

"I know…" Sighing, she looks over at him. "And I trust you."

"Well, that's good to know," he tells her, pressing another kiss to her arm. "Because I would never intentionally hurt you."

Regina nods. "I know. I just need to… get some sleep and forget about everything."

"Mm, that's one way," he murmurs as his lips trail up to her shoulder. "But I think there's another way to relax you and make you forget all about this."

"Robin, I don't think–" Her voice halts as his lips move to the crook of her neck, sucking gently as his hand rests on her thigh. A smile edges onto her lips as her head tilts back. His lips are warm and soft, and make her skin tingle. "I'm tired and… I…"

She sighs as his lips slide over her jaw–and she turns, catching his lips between hers. His hand slides into her hair and he draws her closer, as his other hand begins to roam. She smiles against his mouth as his hand slides beneath the waistband of her shorts, and his fingers press into her hip–and she can't help but whimper a little as his lips leave hers, pecking at her chin and trailing down her throat and gliding along her clavicle. Her head presses back into the pillow as his hand slips between her legs, and her breath catches in her chest.

"Are the boys sleeping?" He asks, looking up at her as two of his fingers circle lazily clit.

"Mm, for about an hour now…"

"That's good…"

"It's late," she murmurs, smiling as his lips find her shoulder and he pushes aides the strap of her tank top. "And we both…" Her voice hitches as his fingers press harder. "…have an early… morning and we've both… had a long… night."

"We can make this quick."

"Can we?" She asks, laughing as he shrugs his eyebrows, then slides down to her side, pulling his lips and fingers away from her. "You don't have to do this. I'm not ups–"

She stops as he pulls back the covers and shifts himself in front of her. "I said I wasn't going to let you go bed feeling tense…" Her brow arches as a grin stretches across his lips. "And I am a man of my word." She rolls her eyes as a smile twists onto her lips. "Unless you really don't want to."

"No, no," she's quick to say. "I, um… I want to."

Her smile brightens as she draws up her knees and he reaches for the waistband of her shorts, tugging them down her legs and dropping them down onto the floor. She takes a breath as his hands rub up her shins and over her knees, and she swallows hard as he gently pushes apart her knees.

It takes a moment for them to adjust–and her eyes close as she feels his breath against her, hovering just above her. She squirms a little as he rubs his hands slowly and teasingly along her inner thighs, and though she can't see him, she can practically see him smiling at the affect he's having on her.

"Robin," she murmurs as his mouth turns away and his lips press to her thigh. "Please…"

"You're already so wet," he tells her in a husky voice, as his fingers slide slowly over her, and her back arches up at touch. "And so warm…"

"I just want–"

Her voice halts as he leans in–his tongue swiping over her and her breath catches in her chest as a smile draws onto her lips.

He takes his time, letting his mouth explore her–licking and sucking and making her writhe. She feels her heartbeat quicken he slides a finger into her, moving in and out of her as a low moan escapes her–and just a she breathes out his name, he slides in another finger.

His lips and tongue focus on her clit–sucking, flicking and licking–and his fingers curl inside of her. She can hear herself babbling as her body moves almost involuntarily under his touch, her hips pushing toward his mouth as her fingers clutch the sheets. She wants to scream out as she feels an orgasm building, but she knows that she can't, so instead, she bites down on her lip and presses herself back against the pillow.

Her breath is ragged and her hips buck against him, but he doesn't stop–he only slows, letting her ride out her first orgasm before looping his arms beneath her legs and devouring her, quickly bringing her to a second orgasm.

She's dizzy when he finally pulls his lips away, letting them glide up her stomach as his hands reach beneath her tank top. He draws himself up, settling beside her as he kneads gently at her breast. His lips find the crook of her neck and once again, she can practically feel him smiling against her skin–obviously pleased with his handiwork.

"How are you feeling?" He asks when she turns her head on the pillow and pecks at his lips. "Still tense?"

"No," she says in a voice that's barely audible. "You have an incredible talent for turning every muscle in my body to jello."

"Good," he tells her, offering her a satisfied grin before kissing her chin. "It's not healthy to go to bed feeling so… tense."

"I've heard that," she returns, rolling onto her side as her hand slides up over his stubbly cheek. "And I love you for it."

"I love you, too," he replies in a way that's both automatic and sincere. "You do know that, right?"

"I do."

"Good."

Leaning in, she presses her mouth to his and swipes her tongue across the crease between his lips. Sucking his bottom lip between hers and reaches for his belt, her fingers working quickly to undo it, before tugging down the zipper.

"I thought you were tired," he murmurs as her fingers push into his open fly, sliding against him. "I thought you just wanted to go to bed."

"I did," she tells him, laughing softly as she presses herself closer, cupping him through his boxers. "But I seem to have caught a second wind."

"Oh?" He asks, his eyebrow arching as he swallows hard as his eyes meet hers–and before he can say anymore, her fingers are working at the button of his jeans and then tugging them down over his hips. Quickly, he kicks his pants to the floor and no sooner than he does, she's on top of him, straddling his waist as her fingers ghost up and down his chest–and any jealousy she felt is completely forgotten.