Hey! I'm so sorry I've made you wait a while for this chapter, I've been planning a few chapters ahead in between uni work and hockey matches so that I know exactly what I want to write and when! Thank you for your patience!

As always I would just like to thank you all tremendous amounts for all of the kind comments I receive on here and twitter (bethany_insall) and all other social media! It means the world to me!

I hope you enjoy this chapter, please do review and let me know what you think!


Regina has never been good at DIY; she's always been the type of person who tries to do things herself, but putting up shelves, building units and putting together furniture has never been something that she could do, or do well. She wasn't really given the chance to learn. Her mother had always told her it was a 'man's job' and so she had always called a professional in to do the job for her. Until this afternoon, that is.

It was still raining when she left the office fairly early for a Thursday afternoon, having got everything completed on her agenda for that day and therefore she had no real need to stay trapped between the four walls of her office. Luckily, she had remembered her umbrella and therefore managed to keep herself dry going into and coming back out of the underground and when she arrived back at her apartment, placing her umbrella into the stand by the door, she noticed the paper bag that had been left there from last night.

That's why she is currently balancing precariously on top of the sofa cushions with the toolbox next to her left foot and Robin's photograph propped against her right. She has a thick iron nail wedged between her teeth and the hammer is tucked under her armpit as she draws out where she wants the frame to sit on the wall. Satisfied that it's central, she then tucks her pencil behind her ear and pries the nail from her teeth, positioning it at the central pencil mark before reaching down to get the hammer.

She wedges it in with ease (yet she is grateful that the neighbours aren't home for the wall is dense and the banging is shrill) and nods at her work before she reaches down to grab the photograph.

An instant smile lights up the brunette's face as she regards the wide toothy grin of the old woman photographed; smiling really is infectious and the glee that glimmers in those wrinkled eyes truly warms Regina's heart. That's why she wants it in her living room, it's a splash of colour amongst her monotone theme and it is a constant reminder that, although times may be tough, it only takes one good thing, one good man, to come along and flip it all upside down; to make things seem good again. Even if it is just for a moment.

The photograph hangs easily and with a quick adjustment to its bottom-right hand corner it now sits perfectly straight in the centre of the wall. Regina clasps her hands together and jumps down from the settee to admire her handy work from afar before she begins to pack up her toolbox (and by toolbox, she means a hammer, the pack of nails she gotten from the store down the road and a set of screwdrivers).

As she grabs the paper bag, however–the one which held the photograph in it–a small card slips free causing Regina to bend and pick it up curiously. "Thank you for purchasing one of my prints. I hope it brings you as much joy as I had taking them," Regina reads aloud with a small smile. It's Robin's business card, and in the corner is his gorgeous, smiling face. Chuckling, she flips it over to find his email, website and phone number printed on the back.

She's never even thought to ask him for his number; they've been messaging so frequently through the dating app that the need for texting has really been very little. Maybe she could text him, something flirtatious and playful, something to make him curious and amused at the same time, but then again perhaps Robin hasn't given her his number for a reason–after all this business card was already in the bag before he handed it to her–she doubts he even realised that it contained his phone number.

Though, she hasn't given him her number either.

Suddenly her phone rings, catching her off guard as she jumps slightly, shaking herself out of her thoughts and turning to grab the device from the coffee table. It's Kathryn; she answers it with a smirk. "You're meant to be working," she greets, balancing her phone between her ear and shoulder as she places the business card on the table and finishes clearing away.

Kathryn scoffs, "I am working, you're on speaker. Besides, you left early so I didn't get the chance to talk to you."

"Oh goodness, you mean you almost went an entire 24 hours without talking to me?" Regina teases dramatically, placing her toolbox into the cupboard beneath the sink before leaning against the counter as she takes her phone back into her hand.

"Crazy right?" Kathryn bites back and the brunette can sense her friend rolling her eyes at her. "You didn't tell me about last night."

Regina shrugs. "I was busy," she excuses. "But last night was great. The exhibition was beautiful and he introduced me to some of his friends."

"What?" Kathryn asks shrilly. "And yet you've still not introduced him to me!" she replies, seemingly offended. "I am basically the one that brought you two together."

The brunette rolls her eyes, shaking her head at her overly keen friend despite the fact that she cannot see it. "Will you relax?" she asks before adding, "They weren't his close friends, more like acquaintances. He had met them through previous exhibitions."

"That makes no difference," Kathryn cuts in, "When am I going to meet this guy, G?" she practically whines and Regina can picture her pout.

The brunette smirks, fluffing the pillow to her left as she replies, "When I can guarantee that you aren't going to say anything embarrassing."

There's a dramatic gasp from the other side of the phone before Kathryn replies, "Oh, please, I would never embarrass you!"

Regina's eyes widen at this denial. She loves her friend but, good Lord, when she has had a few there is no filter on that mouth of hers. She says it how it is and/or does things that a 27 year old really shouldn't be doing. She begins to list off said embarrassing moments, "Christmas party last month–"

"Oh yeah… well–"

"Then there was fireworks night," Regina adds, remembering how the blonde had drank a little too much cinnamon spiced cider and ended up vomiting on the shoes of the pleasant man Regina was talking to.

"I did not embarrass you–" Kathryn protests but Regina cuts in once again.

"And lingerie shopping the other week."

There's a pause and Regina can hear a small scoff of amusement, "Oh come on, that was funny."

Regina cringes at the memory. "I don't think the owner of the store would agree."

"You both have an appalling sense of humour."

"And you have the sense of humour of a thirteen year old," Regina retorts with a fond chuckle.

"We are going off topic," Kathryn replies with a huff, though it's all very playful. "Please save me from these 101 different masks I need to cut out," she pleads, desperate for details of the night before.

Regina smirks, moving into the living room where she settles onto the couch beneath the newly hung frame. "Okay, what would you like to know?" she asks and truthfully, she's actually quite happy to talk about Robin to Kathryn. She feels as if things are beginning to progress into something more between the two of them; every time she thinks of the man she feels as if there are hundreds of tiny butterflies fluttering around in her lower abdomen. And, if she has read the signs correctly, she thinks he may feel the same way about her.

"Are you seeing him again?" is Kathryn's next question.

"Mhmm," Regina replies automatically, "He said he'd like to see me sometime later this week or the next."

"And I assume you want to see him again, too?"

"Yes," Regina replies with a nod. "He's such a nice guy, Kathryn, so caring and gentle. We've not even been seeing each other a month, yet I already feel like he is willing to put my happiness before his, but not in a way that's suffocating, you know?"

"He sounds like the perfect gentleman."

"He really is," Regina sighs, inwardly wondering what she has done to deserve a man like this. "I know it's still very early on as we've only had two dates with an unconfirmed third on its way, but he's been nothing but charming so far."

"And he's good looking which is an added bonus," the blonde points out which Regina agrees to.

"Honestly, his photos don't do him justice, Kathryn," she adds, "He is so good-looking. He has a sexy smile, big dimples and have I mentioned his eyes before?"

Her friend chuckles. "Maybe once or twice," she replies, "So did he walk you back? After the exhibition?"

"No, we went back to his for coffee," Regina replies before quickly adding, "Just coffee."

"Not even a kiss?"

"Oh no, there was kissing," the brunette replies with a smirk, recalling the night before with fondness. He'd kissed her twice after the kiss they had shared in the kitchen; once on the sofa upon telling her for the second time that evening how beautiful she looked (she still blushes at the thought of it now) and the second time had been at the door. The final kiss had lingered however and it had awakened parts of her which made it hard for her to leave. It had left them both breathless when they finally parted.

"And nothing else?" Kathryn asks.

"Nothing else," Regina clarifies. "I'm not going to sleep with him until I know that we are both on the same page. I don't want another Graham."

"That's completely understandable," Kathryn agrees, "And he's quite happy to wait?"

Regina shrugs, dropping her hand to pick at a piece of cotton that has stuck itself to her pencil skirt. "He hasn't even insinuated the idea yet so I haven't brought it up, but I don't think he's rushing into things."

"That's a good thing," Kathryn replies seriously, "He's giving you a bit of breathing space and from what you've told me he's definitely into you, Regina. And you, him."

The brunette sighs, eyeing the business card on the coffee table in front of her. "I am," she confesses quietly. "I have his number."

"Really?" Kathryn asks excitedly, "Did he give it to you last night?"

Regina grimaces slightly, nodding her head to the side. "Yes and no."

"Okay, explain."

"At the exhibition I fell in love with one of his photographs. I was going to buy it from him but he gave it to me as a 'thank you for coming'." Kathryn 'Aww's before Regina continues, "I was putting the photo up this afternoon and that's when I noticed his business card in the bottom of the bag he had placed it into."

"And that has his mobile number on it?" Regina tells her that yes, it does, and Kathryn adds, "You have to text him."

The brunette shakes her head, however. She isn't convinced that this is a good idea. Surely, if Robin wanted her to have his number he would've just given it to her. "But what if he forgot that his card was in the bag and he doesn't actually want me to have his number?" she asks, that little bit of anxiety prickling at the back of her scalp like a sting from a stinging nettle.

Kathryn sighs in what sounds like annoyance before she responds, "Regina, do you have any idea how much photos from exhibitions are sold for?"

Regina shrugs at that, remembering how Robin had removed the tag from the frame before she could even acknowledge the price. "I didn't look."

"A lot," her friend answers for her. "If he wasn't interested in you enough to give you his number, he would not have given you that photograph as a simple 'thank you'. Trust me."

Regina considers this; she has a point. If he is willing to talk to her every day on the CreativeMatch app, surely he wouldn't mind if they switched to text messages. "Alright."

"So text him. He's probably waiting by his phone wondering why you haven't done so yet," her friend replies, causing Regina to smirk slightly. "I should go, Chloe is patrolling the building like she's the fucking queen or something and if she catches me on the phone to you she will probably skin me alive and wear me as her next fashion accessory."

Regina chuckles. "That is quite the punishment," she replies in amusement. "Okay, I'll let you go. I'll speak to you tomorrow." And with that she cuts the phone call off, but she doesn't place her phone down, instead she reaches for the business card in front of her, her thumb sweeping over the digits printed in navy blue before she's holding her breath and typing them into her phone.

She stares at the digits for a good twenty seconds, reading the numbers over and over in her head to make sure that she has them absolutely correct before she is adding them to her phonebook under his name and is opening up her messages. She wants her text to be light-hearted and flirtatious, otherwise she fears the outcome could become awkward if her having his number is just a coincidence. She hums in thought before an idea forms in her head and she smirks to herself before typing out her greeting.

I see you subtly slipped me your number last night, Mr Locksley… ;-)


The apartment still smells of her, even over the smell of burnt toast and coffee from that morning. Regina had only stayed with him for two hours after the exhibition but that was long enough to allow her perfume to soak into the cushion covers and the curtains; it's a welcome breath of fresh air when he gets in from work that afternoon. He still hasn't washed up and so her lipstick stained mug still sits on the side by the sink. He remembers having to wipe that very lipstick from the skin beneath his lips before he went to bed.

She's a very good kisser.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to invite her to stay last night–not to sleep with her, but because then he wouldn't have had to stop kissing her. However, it was getting late and the reality of work the next morning was hanging over his head like a raincloud, so he had let her go with a smitten smile, watching her walk all the way to the stairwell before he slipped back inside his apartment.

Robin makes his way to his study where he heads straight to the stereo, turning it on and switching it to the Jazz station, tapping his foot along to the beat as he takes his seat at his desk. He has a few bits and pieces of work to finish off, but he didn't wish to remain in his dreary office while it grows dark outside. Instead, he can listen to his favourite tunes and has a lovely view of the water fountain across the square; lit up amongst the lights that shine through his neighbours' windows. It's so peaceful, where he lives. He only wishes he had someone to share it with.

That familiar pain hits him sharply like a stab to the chest as he thinks about what was taken away from him so cruelly. Things wouldn't be so quiet, too quiet, if he was sharing this apartment with whom he was meant to be sharing it with. Even if it were for just a few days a week.

He shakes the thought away and suddenly his phone chimes amongst the piano interlude, happily distracting him from such miserable thoughts as he grabs his phone to see a message from an unknown number…

I see you subtly slipped me your number last night, Mr Locksley… ;-)

Regina.

Immediately Robin grins; he knows it's her, just knows it. He knows he had left his business card in the bag he had given her and he is pleasantly surprised to know that she has chosen to contact him this way. It means she's equally as happy as he is for him to have her phone number. He is eager to reply but wants his message to be playful too, so he pleads ignorance, hoping she will gather that he is only being flirtatious.

It seems I did, didn't I? May I ask to whom I may have slipped my number to?

Her reply comes a few seconds later; a well-rehearsed response which makes him smile widely, again.

The Senior Graphic Designer of DevilDesign.

Anyone would think him a fool if they passed him and saw him grinning at his phone like he is right now, but he really couldn't care any less. He simply adores her playfulness and her reply takes her back to the first time they met–in the elevator. He hadn't imagined in a million years that he would have been lucky enough to have another conversation with this woman, let alone multiple. He types out a swift reply.

Ah, good, I've been meaning to give it to you for some time now. ;-) Thank you, again, for coming last night. I had a great evening.

Upon sending this, he clicks on the lonely digits at the top of the chat and adds them to his contact list under her name, plus a sweet little blushing emoji. It's in this time that her next reply comes through.

Me too. Thank you for inviting me. I've put your photograph up, by the way. It looks lovely in my living room.

Robin beams at this as pride blooms across his chest. She's put his photograph up for everyone to see–for him to see, at some point, he hopes–and he honestly couldn't be more excited. To him this is a step forward in the right direction for the two of them. He likes her, really, really likes her and feels so drawn to her; not just because she's beautiful (which she is, bloody hell) but because her personality is so intriguing, so likeable and he only wants to get to know every detail about her. He wants to know about the little things she hates, the little things she loves, the silly things that make her laugh and the gestures which make her smile that illusive yet satisfying smile that he has grown to crave.

He feels like having his photo hung proudly in her living room says that she, too, intends to get to know him just that little better, to have that photo to remind her of the good times and memories they have shared and are yet to share. Which reminds him, he needs to arrange to see her again, and soon.

I'm so glad to hear that! I would love to see you again. Perhaps this weekend? If you're not busy.

Regina responds almost straight away.

I'm free all day Saturday, whatever suits you. Let's do coffee.

And, being in the good mood he is in, he decides to make his next reply playful, twisting her words just slightly.

All day it is, then! ;-)

Wow! That's a lot of coffee!

Robin chuckles aloud, shaking his head fondly at her retort. It's little things like that which makes him all the more impatient to see her for a third time, to hear that melodic laughter he knows he's missing out on right now.

Haha, I suppose you have a point! Shall we say 11am?

Upon pressing send, Robin takes his phone with him to the kitchen where he makes himself a cup of tea, smiling again at the red lipstick stain on his favourite mug. He slips it into the dishwasher before grabbing a clean teacup from the cupboard. His phone chimes again as he places the kettle on its stand to boil.

Sounds perfect. I know just the place– and this time, I'm paying. It's the least I could do after all that you have given me.

Robin shakes his head. What kind of a gentleman would he be if he let Regina pay for their third date? His reply is cheeky and hopefully convincing enough to change her mind about feeling the need to pay for something.

I can assure you that your kisses were payment enough.

The kettle bubbles and Robin dumps a tea bag into his mug before pouring the hot water on top of it, watching as the colour changes from nothing into a bright brown; much like Regina's captivating eyes under the dim light of the gallery last night. He moves to place the tea bag into the bin when his phone alerts him to another message and as he walks back over to where his phone lays on the counter, Robin smirks at the words printed on his screen.

Well perhaps if you're lucky you'll get another this weekend.

Oh, this weekend couldn't come any quicker; he wants nothing more than to feel her lips pressed against his again. Sipping at his tea, he moves back to his study as he types out yet another flirtatious reply.

Let's hope luck is on my side, then. I am looking forward to seeing you again.

And with two little words in response Robin is grinning all over again.

Me too. x