It was a tear-filled, bittersweet goodbye with his parents, but now he's back on Canadian soil—was picked up by John extraordinarily jet lagged and managed to fall asleep on his friend during the drive back to John's parents.

He still feels bad about that, they have so much to catch up on, but they will do it today. Once John wakes up, they grab Merry and set off for their apartment and will spend the entirety of the two and a half hour drive catching up.

The thing is, John won't be up for hours, and Robin should go back asleep; it's early, but his body is all out of whack and he's wide awake. Merry is cuddled up with him, demanding his attention now that he's awake and hadn't let him go back to sleep when he first woke. Even with that, he can admit he really missed this cat. She is so cute, and she's gotten so big over the summer, it's almost unbelievable. He remembers when she barely fit in John's palm, and now she's the length of Robin's forearm. The four months he was away felt like forever and no time at all at the same time, and Merry's a reminder of how much can happen in four short months.

He can smell coffee so he knows John's mum is up, and maybe he'll go join her while he waits. First though, he's going to check his phone.

He turned it off all summer, had switched to the cheapest possible monthly plan, paying his fifteen dollars to maintain his number while he was away, using his dad's old phone and video chats to keep in touch.

There's one person he didn't keep in touch with, but it seems like she had a good summer from the few Instagram posts and pictures Mal tagged her in. Mal is another person he didn't really keep in touch with, he saw her posts (and sought them out to see about Regina). He wished her a happy birthday that went unanswered, something he thought nothing of, until he saw her incredibly brave status about going to rehab and getting sober soon after.

He was so happy to hear that she made that move, had told her so, and ended up in a brief text conversation with her. He hadn't asked about Regina (though he wanted to desperately—it was not the time), and she hadn't mentioned her. He did learn Mal would be coming back to school around the same time as him, and he's looking forward to seeing her and how well she's doing.

He doesn't know what he will even say to Regina when he sees her. He doubts they'll be in any of the same classes—unless she's in his mandatory classes like business associations or evidence—but they share the same friend group, so he'll see her at some point.

Perhaps he'll see her sooner than he expected, he hadn't checked his phone at all, but he is now and has twenty voicemails. Most are spam he quickly deletes, but one number he recognizes. Hers.

His breath catches as he waits for the message to play, to hear her voice for the first time this summer since that odd Facebook call they shared at the beginning of May. His heart swells at the sound of her beautiful voice saying his name, and he laughs a little at her I know you won't get this now, because she was right, the message was from July. It's a laugh that cuts off when he hears, "but I just really miss you. And I'm really sorry. I… I hope we can talk when we get back to school—" his chest burns, the words making him ache for her. God, he misses her so much, but what does she think they have to talk about? She made her feelings more than clear.

He gets his answer as the message goes on, "—I have so much I need to tell you. God, I've missed you so much, you have no idea, I… I fucked this all up, I know I did, and I am so sorry for all the pain I caused you. You deserved better than that. I hope that you can forgive me, but I understand if you can't."

The message cuts off at that and his voicemail waits for him to do something, repeats the options when he doesn't hit a key in time. He still doesn't select one, instead sets his phone down on the bed and reels.

What does she mean by all of that? Does she want him—no, that's ridiculous, and he knows better. He will not go down that road.

He's happy to have her apology, he is, but he doesn't know that he can go back to the friends she so clearly wants them to be. The summer was agonizing and he should be over her by now, but he's not. I'm sorry isn't enough for him—even though he knows that she did nothing wrong. They weren't together, even though it felt like it, he got in far too deep and she ended it, probably for that reason. He's been mad at her all summer for the heartbreak he suffered, but deep down he knows it's his fault—he's the one who never told her how he felt, never even tried to make it more, to see if she was willing to try it. He has his regrets, spent far too much time thinking about the what ifs over the summer, but what ifs don't matter, they aren't what happened.

There's a part of him, the soft, hopeful romantic side that's been pushed to the side which is now spouting ridiculous thoughts, getting his hopes up for things that won't come to be. It clings to the fact that she said she missed him, imagines her realizing it was a huge mistake and wanting to be with him, but of course if that were actually the case she would have told him that when she called.

He knows that's not it, but her message has set off the fantasy and he can't stop thinking about it. It's exactly what he didn't want, but he's never been good at keeping that side in check where Regina Mills is involved.

He picks up his phone to listen to delete the rest of the spam, and discovers two other messages from her, which only encourage that ridiculous part of him.

Great, now it's going to be even harder to see her.

She's back at her place, and it's so nice not to be with her mother anymore. One of the only benefits of her long hours at work: she couldn't be criticized when she wasn't home. She managed to avoid some of her mother's criticism, but the weekends Regina was home, she got it in spades.

She's looking forward to living alone again, to having her own space, but there's one obstacle to that: her sister.

She and Zelena barely kept in touch over the summer, and while she did text her sister to tell her she was moving back in, she neglected to ask about Zelena's plans. As a result, she was surprised to learn Zelena was still here, and she's now worried her sister is here for good.

When she told Zelena she could move in, she thought she was clear it was just for the summer, but perhaps it wasn't, and if so, she's not going to kick her out—she would never let her sister go homeless. Regina can adjust to life with a roommate, it's just not what she anticipated.

She'd like to find out if that actually is Zelena's plan, but doesn't know how to bring it up. So she doesn't at first, accepts her sister's help bringing her belongings inside and to her room, then later the dinner Zelena makes for them. That is a benefit, Zelena's a decent cook, and it's nice to have the wine she pours them without having to make a trip to the LCBO. Zelena has a car too, so she'd never have to walk or cab from the grocery store. There are benefits to her sister staying here, and she's going to focus on those.

She learns all about Zelena's summer, how she spent it working at Granny's, and how much better of a boss Granny is than any other boss she's ever had. Zelena also tells her about discovering her tuition had been paid in full, side-eyeing Regina as she does, clearly having figured out it was Regina who initiated that.

All it had taken was a casual mention to her father about how Zelena was struggling financially, and the very next day he'd made a comment about how easy it is to get information when you are trying to pay a bill. She'd known what had happened without him saying.

Zelena arches a brow at her when she finishes that story and all Regina says is, "Oh, that's interesting," before taking a sip of wine.

"Oh, cut the crap, Regina. What ever did you say to her to make that happen?"

She chuckles because that would never happen. "I didn't say anything to her."

Zelena's eyes narrow, about to call her on that, but then she stops. "Your father?"

Regina nods and answers honesty, "I didn't know he was going to do that, but I wanted him to do something."

"Well, thank you, and him. Do you… do you think it would be weird if I reached out? I want to tell him how much it means to me, but I don't want to be weird."

She forgets sometimes how little Zelena knows of her father. "Oh no, he'd love that. He feels bad about everything, wants to help in any way he can but doesn't think it's his place."

Zelena sighs, "It's weird, I know if he offered, my pride would have gotten in the way, but just having it paid like that, it was incredible. It changed everything."

"Well, cheers to that."

Zelena smiles and clinks glasses with her, "Between that and the surprisingly generous tippers this summer, I was able to get a decent place. No more shitty roommates for me."

Oh, okay, so Zelena isn't staying, she's moving, somewhere, but, "Where?"

Zelena smiles, pulling out her phone and passing over a picture of the outside of a tiny white house. "The outside is ugly, but it's all mine."

Regina scrolls right, sees the cute living room, it's open concept, the kitchen is right there but it's a quaint little space, perfect for one person. She doesn't know that she's ever seen a house quite that small, but it works.

"When do you move in?" she asks, and learns Zelena gets the keys in three days, shrugging off her sister's apology for the cross over, assuring her that it's not an inconvenience.

"So tell me about your summer, Sis," Zelena urges and Regina does, keeping things as light as she can. She doesn't say a word about Leopold because she's trying to cleanse him and his vile behaviour from her mind. He'd taken her out for drinks after one of his victories, she thought it would be her and the associate on the case, but Jared was nowhere to be seen, and she'd had to spend an hour drinking with him, flinching away from his caresses until she'd been able to bow out.

Her efforts to keep it light are in vain when Zelena questions her about Robin. She could lie, but instead, she tells the whole story, how stupid she was and how badly she fucked it all up. Zelena nods sympathetically, pours her more wine with a heavy hand and offers her condolences.

She feels a little better laying it all out, right up until Zelena asks, "So when are you seeing him?"

That makes her stutter and stumble, "I'm not… I can't… what?"

Zelena just rolls her eyes. "You have contacted him, right?"

She has in a sense, but she knows drunken voicemails are not what Zelena is referring to. "I… I don't know what to say."

"Give me your phone," Zelena demands.

"Um, no." As if she would do that, but Zelena's arching a brow at her and it gives her this need to provide an explanation though she knows one isn't necessary. "I will message him myself, thank you."

"Will you, though?"

She resents the accusation even though there's some truth to it—she has been known to chicken out when it comes to hard conversations. "Yes, I will."

Zelena stares her down, then remarks far too casually, "I don't believe you, do it now."

How did she end up with such pushy friends? First Mal, now Zelena—she knows they have her best interest at heart, that they are just trying to help her, but god is it annoying sometimes.

"Fine," she growls, because she knows Zelena is just as stubborn as she is, and because she's dying to see Robin again. She'd noticed she was unblocked on Facebook the other week (had searched him with no results an embarrassing amount of times over the summer) and had almost messaged him then, but couldn't come up with something to say that wasn't completely moronic. She's here now though, and he should be too, so there's no excuse.

She ends up telling Zelena she doesn't know what to say and bounces ideas with her sister until she settles on: Hi Robin, I hope you had a good summer. I've really missed you, and I have a lot I want to talk to you about, and it doesn't translate over text. Can we meet up sometime once you are back?

She waits with bated breath for a response, and thanks god when he responds in under ten minutes. It's a simple invitation to his place the next night, but it's far more than she expected, more than she deserves, so she just thanks him for the opportunity, and tries not to stress too much.

Regina is so fucking nervous as she walks up to his place. This is it, and she has no idea what to expect.

It's oddly reminiscent of the first time she came here. Anxious and nervous, but prepared for every possibility. She's a glass and a half in, and put far too much effort into her appearance, spent way too much time thinking out what she'd say, and fretting over being too early. The one thing she has going for her is that she looks damn good in this dress, it may not be low cut, but red leather clings to her in ways she hopes Robin will appreciate.

Her hand is actually shaking as she reaches for his buzzer, and she tells herself to get a damn grip. He invited her here to talk, didn't just turn her down, and that must mean something, right?

Her emotions are all over the place, she's nervous as hell, but also so excited to see him again, to be granted the opportunity to be in his presence. She's missed him so much, and it's going to be hard as hell to resist throwing her arms around him on sight. They need to talk though—they cannot fall into each other's arms before that, because if they do, there's a very real chance they will fall into bed, and as much as that is extremely appealing, she needs to apologize and explain first.

She can do this, she can. It's going to be okay.

She tells herself that as she waits for the sketchy elevator, then again as she walks down the hall toward Robin's place.

She almost walks in the door, it's what she would have done before she fucked everything up, but that was four months ago and so much has changed. So she knocks, and waits, hearing clamouring inside the apartment that tells her Robin heard her.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous as he opens the door, more handsome than she remembered, but worn and haggard, and that makes her heart clench because she knows it's in part (is all) her fault. She caused this incredible man so much pain, when he already had far too much of it.

She's staring, but he is too. She just can't believe he's real, that he's here, that he's giving her a chance that she doesn't deserve.

She swallows heavily, choking out a Hello, as memories, regret and an overpowering wave of longing rush through her.

"Hi, Regina," he says, similarly stunned, and they just stand for a moment, on opposite sides of the door, drinking each other in.

Their eyes meet and stay on each other. She doesn't know what to say, doesn't want to break the moment, but feels like she needs to. She can't though, can't stop looking at those gorgeous blue eyes. The subtle stubble running across the cut of his jaw, the dimples she knows are there but aren't showing, those strong, skilled hands, his powerful arms that are partially hidden by his dark grey v-neck that somehow makes him look even more attractive, which she didn't know was possible. His one bicep flexes as he grabs the door, the muscle bulging—did he get fitter this summer or did she just forget how fit he was?

God, she is so fucking in love with this man, stupidly so, there's a ton of lust percolating, but there's also that genuine affection, the care for him, the need to make him feel better, to take away every drop of pain in his eyes. She knows that pain is all her fault, and it crushes her. She hates that she did this to him, to them, but she cannot take it back, can only try to make it right and she will expend all of her energy to do so.

It's that pain in his eyes that drives her to speak, has her asking with a shaky voice that betrays everything she's feeling, "Can I come in?"

He nods, gesturing her in and she hates this, hates how awkward it is. They are both shuffling around each other, their uneasiness and discomfort evident. It's all her fault, she knows that, and she hates herself for it.

There's a wine bottle out on the coffee table, and two glasses, so she's not surprised when, after a moment of awkward silence, he takes a seat on the couch and motions for her to join him. For the first time, she wonders about John, and realizes what a terrible person she is for not thinking of him at all over the summer. She's a selfish asshole. She really enjoys John's company; he's a good guy she considered a friend, yet she said nothing to him all summer. While she's fairly certain she and Robin are alone here, which is good for this conversation, she wants to see John again, misses his jovial disposition.

It's a thought that only lasts a second because Robin pours her a glass of the red and tops off his own; it seems she's not the only one who got into the wine before this. He shifts awkwardly once he finishes, but says nothing. He must feel the same way she does, lost and adrift, unsure of what to say, and as she's the one who made them that way, it's up to her to fix it.

She clinks glasses with him, and takes a big sip of the wine, trying to calm her nerves. She looks over at him, and he's doing the same, sipping his wine, hand fiddling with the glass, and she has this urge to cuddle up in his arms, one that's even stronger than the urge to fuck him into the ground. She has it bad for him, and she screwed it all up. Fuck.

Okay, it's now or never, three months of intensive therapy better amount to something.

"I…" Dammit no, she is not fucking this up. No, sir. "I…" she takes a breath, "I need to say I'm sorry."

His face doesn't change, he's looking at her in this way that makes her feel exposed, raw and vulnerable—which she is, but it's not something she's used to, and it makes her uncomfortable. She pushes through that, has to. She's not used to showing her truth, to opening herself up. She's been burned by her mother more times than she can count and it left its mark, but she knows she can't live scared forever, needs to push past the overwhelming urge to clam up.

"I am so sorry for… for everything. God, I was so stupid. I thought… I thought that you didn't care about me, I mean not in that way… I thought that I was the only one with feelings. And I was scared. I've only ever felt like this once before, and I fucked that up, too. I kept telling myself I was the only one, that you only wanted sex because it was easier than dealing with all my issues. And I am so so sorry for the way I ended it. I didn't mean any of it, I couldn't, I…" This is it, she can do it, she has to. The words fall out of her mouth easily for the very first time, "I love you, I fell in love with you, and it terrified the hell out of me, and I don't have an excuse, I just had to tell you."

It's him—his presence, his aura—that made her able to do that. This can't be the end of them, not when she's this comfortable with him. She loves him with her whole soul, and she broke them, but she is willing to do whatever it takes to fix this. He has to let her. He has to,

His mouth falls open at her revelation and he stutters, "You… you… you love me?"

"I do! God, I do, so much. You have no idea… I love you, I do."

She thinks for a second this might be it. That she's said all she needs to but then all hope shatters when he opens his mouth, "I… you say that now? You broke my heart. I spent four months thinking that I meant nothing to you. Where was all that four months ago? Where was that when you called me?" His voice cracks, and it pains her to see him so upset, to know that she caused it. "You… you cut me off at the knees when I really needed someone. You, you have no idea what my summer was like. And what? I'm just supposed to put it all aside because you're sorry?"

Fuck, fuck, of course not, she doesn't expect that, but she wants him, and dammit. Her voice is cracking, eyes watering, and her throat is so tight she almost can't form the words she's trying to as she tells him, "No, I don't… I know I messed this all up. I don't expect you to forgive me, I was awful to you." The tears flood then and shit, she has more to say but the emotion is choking her, overwhelming her, and dammit.

He's similarly distraught, all because of her. Regina Mills, ruiner of everything, strikes again.

His tone as he breathes, "You… you don't do that to someone you love," actually hurts her. Makes her chest and throat go tight, emotion welling up.

He's right, she is fucked up. How could she do this to him, to them? "I know… and I'm sorry."

She cannot stop the shake of her shoulders, the flood of tears that well in the corners of her eyes, and she wants to bury her face in her hands, hide how this is affecting her, but she won't. She is being naked and vulnerable in front of him, one of the only people in her life who has seen her like this before. It's something that's extremely difficult for her, after a childhood where her vulnerabilities and insecurities were exploited and turned against her, but Robin is not like that, and she trusts him, more than anyone.

"I don't know if sorry is good enough," he breathes, his own devastation evident on his face, and she feels her heart crack and splinter. She understands, she does, but it doesn't stop the hurt that swells. She loves him, and it's solely because of her that they are in this situation. She can't blame him for that, wouldn't, it's her that put them in this position.

Emotion is choking her, but she clears her throat, wills her voice to come out instead of those tears. "I can't… I can't fix what I did. If I could I would, you have to believe that."

"I do," he says, and he feels closer now, is closer now. She wonders if she moved or he did, not that it really matters, but if she shuffled just a bit they'd be touching and she wants that so badly, is itching to close the distance between them, but it has to be his call.

"I missed you so much," she chokes out, then his hand is on her back stroking and god, she does not deserve this comfort from him, not after what she did. She ruined all of this, and he is far too good for her. He should have yelled at her, cut her down for all the unnecessary pain she caused. She always knew he was too good for her, and this confirms it.

His voice is full of emotion when he tells her, "I missed you, too—" and she feels the but before it comes, "—but you have no idea what I went through this summer. You abandoned me in the worst moments of my life, when I really needed someone, when I really needed you."

His voice cracks, and it makes her ache as he sighs, "And I hate it because I still want to be with you, but I don't know if I can be after all of that. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms and tell you everything is going to be okay, but I don't know if I can. I loved you so much, but the hurt, the pain, I can't forget that."

She thought she prepared herself for this, but the reality is so much more soul-crushing than she'd imagined. She will not make him feel guilty for that though, she will not. She takes a breath, schools her features and tries not to show her agony, but it's through tears so she's not sure she succeeds, "I understand, I do."

"You don't, you can't. You weren't there. Everything went to shit and the only person I wanted to talk to was you, but you… You, you—"

He's trying not to cry, and it just makes her ache all the more for him, for all the pain he's endured this year. Her hand moves of its own volition, grips his, and she's sure he's going to shrug her off but he doesn't. He clasps it and sighs, "I believe you. I do, but I needed you and you weren't there."

She breaks when he says that. Cannot help it, devolves into embarrassing full-body sobs that he has to comfort when he should not. He's had more than enough pain and she's just adding to that. She should be stronger than this, but she's not. She does hide her face now, in his chest which she should not, but it's too much, knowing what she did to him, how much he suffered. He is right there and she leans into him, feeling simultaneous comfort and grief as she snuggles into his chest. The guilt cuts through her and she cannot stop crying, hates that she is because she knows it hurts him but that just makes her cry harder and fuck.

It takes her a couple of moments, but she slowly regains control—she does it for him, and all the while, Robin is stroking her back. It's far more than she deserves, and she aches all over again for this amazing man she pushed away when she should have run in full force.

Now all she's left with are regrets as she reaches for the box of Kleenex that's on the little shelf below the coffee table. She uses it to wipe her tears, blows her nose and huffs out a breath. She doesn't need to look in a mirror to know how unattractive she is right now. Her face is hot, eyes heavy and surely red-rimmed to match the blotches she knows must be colouring her cheeks. Not that it matters anyway, she's looked like shit before and he thought she was beautiful, but then she went and burned it all down. Now he probably still thinks she's pretty, but it's all tainted by the unnecessary pain she inflicted.

"I'm really, really sorry, Robin. If I could change it I would, but…"

"I know. I know."

There's a finality to it they both seem to recognize, and she feels defeated, wants to fight, but what's the point? It would just hurt him more and she can't do that. She's caused him far too much hurt, and if she can do one thing from now on, it's never hurt him again.

He keeps talking which surprises her, she thought this was goodbye, had resigned herself to it, "You were scared. Well, I can't have scared. You know how I spent my summer? Learning just how bad my mom is going to get, seeing it first hand. My life is only going to get worse as time goes on, and I can't have someone bailing on me like that. I just can't."

He doesn't need to explain. "I understand, I do. I just… I love you, and you… care about me, and I…"

And fuck, she wasn't going to pressure him but the words fly out of her mouth and make him wince, and no, that's not what she wanted.

All he says is, "I know," and that finality is back.

"I don't want to hurt you," she says and stops amending to, "More than I already have."

"I believe you," is all he says and his arm circles around her, pulling her in to lean against him. He presses a kiss to her forehead, lets out a heavy exhale, and holds her tight as they both grieve their mistakes and the giant obstacles in their path they may never overcome.

It's a Saturday kegger at Killian's place, a big welcome back celebration for everyone who is in the area already. Robin doesn't feel much like partying, but there's nothing like alcohol to numb the pain (and what does that say about him? Not for the first time he wonders about his own relationship with alcohol, and if it's a healthy one.)

He thought that all he wanted was for Regina to feel the same, but he doesn't know that it's enough. He thought hearing those words would be it, would empty that well of pain that's been in his chest since he lost her, but it didn't. If anything it made it sharper, worsened it because it was all so avoidable.

He's mad at her, mad at himself, wishes so much that they could go back, that they could change what happened between them. He wants things the way they were before. Wants for her to have never broken up with him in the first place. But what he wants can't be and he doesn't know where to go from here. He is so in love with her, but he was, and is, so damn hurt by what she did, and her sorry's don't make that go away.

He wants to forgive her, wants to be in a place where he can hold her, and love her, free of all that pain, but that's not in the cards. She broke both of their hearts and that has consequences. He doesn't know that he can put aside the pain of the four months without her, and if he can't, they have no future. He can't just sweep it under the rug and pretend it didn't happen, those feelings have to be processed and dealt with if they have any shot of making it work.

He does want to make it work, wants to be with her, but it's all so fucked up now. He thinks maybe he could do it, with time, let it all go, but there's one thing holding him back. She got scared, and what's to stop that from happening again, happening three months from now, a year from now? He cannot go through losing her again, not with everything that's happening in his life. There is so much sadness in his future, he cannot add any more.

This is not what he should be doing on this fine summer night, wills himself to stop thinking about her to enjoy this first kegger of the season, and the beautiful weather they've been blessed with. He's standing with John and Killian in the backyard of Killian's place, leaning up against the wall, surrounded by their classmates. John and Killian are animatedly talking about football, a conversation he cannot add to but shouldn't be zoning out of. These are his friends, he missed them over the summer, he shouldn't be taking this for granted.

When the conversation moves on from football, he joins in, finishing his beer as Killian tells them about his hilarious exploits over the summer. Killian is such a character, but underneath it all there's a decent guy who just wants the best for his friends.

Killian's idea of the best is not necessarily what the person needs and that becomes clear when the stories stop because Killian notices his empty cup. Robin finds himself being ushered over to the keg to refill, encouraged to have a good time and drink. That's one thing he doesn't like about Killian, he's pushy with the alcohol, something that didn't used to bother him, but now does.

It's as Killian is pouring him a beer that he sees Mal. He waves awkwardly at her as Killian passes him his beer, making his discomfort grow. He wants to go say hi, but he feels odd doing so with his drink, doesn't want to tempt her or make her uncomfortable.

Killian gets pulled away by some guy he doesn't know, and John has moved from where he was, so he makes his way over.

He offers a, "Hi, how are you doing with everything?" as he approaches, that she doesn't take well. She gives him this look and he knows without her saying that she's been hearing this all night. He hadn't meant to let his discomfort slip into his tone, but it's clear that he did.

"I'm fine, and still sober before you ask," she adds sardonically, then sighs. "And you don't need to hide that beer, I can handle it."

Fuck, he's a right asshole, is being overly cautious when he should have known Mal wouldn't take kindly to that. He needs to be himself, to stop acting like everything has changed.

"I'm glad to hear that. How was your summer?"

Mal smiles at that, breathes, "Thank you," then launches into a tale about her trip to Italy, before urging him to tell her about his summer.

As it was spent longing for her best friend and grieving his mother's diagnosis, he doesn't go into much detail, instead settles on telling her about the ridiculous clients the guy he worked for has. The things he would get asked were so absurd but made for a lightness that was so needed. He tells her about the monthly client who demanded that they write a cease and desist letter to the manager of his store to stop sleeping with his daughter. Then he launches into a story about another humorous client.

When he's finished Mal drawls, "So you had a shit summer you'd rather forget too, huh?"

He nods ruefully and admits what she probably already knows. "Yeah, pretty shit. Between my broken heart and seeing my mum's Alzheimer's first hand, it's a time I'd rather forget."

"I don't remember a lot of mine, but what I do, I wish I could forget. I drank, and drank and drank. Up until July. I did a lot of damage when I was drinking, but I'm lucky to have friends who support me and my sobriety."

"Can I ask…" then he thinks about it and no, he shouldn't.

"What?" Mal demands, then softens, "Whatever you want to ask, ask. I'd rather you ask than be wondering or worrying."

"Is it hard to be here?"

He hasn't had a sip of his beer while he's been talking to her, is trying not to be weird or act differently, but it seems rude to drink in front of her.

"I haven't been around it much, but the way our society is, the way our friends are, I can't avoid it and I wouldn't want to. The answer is yes and no. I crave it, but I hate who I am when I drink, and my life is so much better since I stopped drinking. I don't want to be that person anymore and I'm so much happier, so that helps take the edge off of any compulsion to drink, if that makes sense."

It does, and he nods. Mal is incredible, he started to realize that as they became closer, but it's so evident now how knowledgeable and insightful she is. He's so happy to hear that things are going so well, and tells her such.

"Thank you," she replies. "And thank you for not being drunk off your ass. My tolerance for that is non-existent now."

He laughs, "Yeah, it's never fun to be around drunk people when you are sober."

"Right, god, people get so annoying."

He nods. "So annoying."

Mal's expression changes, annoyance replaced with impishness. "So that broken heart…"

He walked himself into that one, didn't he? "I'd rather not—"

She shakes her head, "That's not what I meant. Regina, over here," she yells waving her hand.

He turns to the right in the direction Mal is waving and sure enough, there she is, looking so gorgeous she takes his breath away.

Well, fuck.

Mal is waving her over toward Robin, and now he's looking at her too, so she can't not go over. But god, it's so awkward, and she curses Mal silently as she heads over.

Robin looks good. Something about him causal like this, in shorts and a t-shirt, beer in hand, gets to her, it always has. But she fucked it all up, and she may never have him again. It hurts to see him, to think about what might have been if she hadn't been so damn stupid.

Thankfully, she has something else to focus on, there is a third person so it's not them alone together, she doesn't know that she could handle that.

Mal keeps things from being awkward, and doesn't say a thing about the lingering glances she trades with Robin. Just like her, he cannot stop looking. She's in a summery green halter dress, hair down and curly, which she knows he likes. She can admit she wore it this way for him, she's not trying to torture him, but she cannot stop making herself look nice for things on the off chance he's there.

John joins them shortly after, and there are lots of reunions to be had, so she busies herself with that, with hugging Kathryn when she arrives and learning all about her friend's summer. She keeps tabs on Robin all night, moves inside with him when it starts to cool down, and always knows where he is seeking him out when she can't immediately see him. She shouldn't do it, but can't help herself. She's like a magnet, is drawn to him, a force so strong she can barely stop it. She misses him, wants him, and she knows she cannot have him, but she can be close to him, and that's what she does.

She's not really sure how it happens, but somehow she finds herself closer to him, in his circle, in his group. A group that dwindles to just the two of them, and they just look at each other. Somehow she ends up closer to him than she has been in months, their faces so close she could easily kiss him, and she wants to so badly, looks into those gorgeous blue eyes, sees the longing, but also the shadow of pain and it pulls her away, has her whispering a breathless sorry.

He's similarly breathless, taking a shaky breath before he tells her, "You don't need to be sorry."

"I just… I don't want to hurt you. I don't know what to do, what's best."

He surprises her when he takes her hand in his and says, "Let's go back outside, this isn't the place for this."

She nods dumbly, lets him lead her outside through the front door and off into a secluded corner of the front yard.

"This is hard," is what he says, and she nods while sighing. It is and she wants to make it easier for both of them, but doesn't know how.

"I know. I don't know how to help. Do you want me to go?"

God, he's so close again, and she gets lost in those beautiful blue eyes, glances down to his lips, and the urge to pull him in and kiss him senseless is overwhelming.

The air between them is charged. She looks back at his eyes and they bore into hers, then his eyes flicker down to her lips and that urge to mold their lips together increases.

His tongue peeks out and licks at his bottom lip, his breath coming out heavier and she doesn't know that she's ever wanted him more. He moved, or maybe she did, but there's barely an inch between their lips, and the tension is percolating. She can practically taste the beer in his breath, inhales the smell of him, that forestry scent mixed with bitter lager she knows would taste better on his tongue than from the keg.

She wants him so badly, is actively fighting the instinct to lean in when his Adam's apple bobs. She wants to lick it, nip at it. And fuck. She knows he's thinking about it too, can see the want in his eyes, and that's what does her in.

"Kiss me," she whispers in the space between them, because it has to be his choice.

Boy, does he ever.

They somehow make it back to his place amidst a slew of kisses. She's nipping at his neck while he unlocks the main door, chiding her with a "Stop it," she knows isn't serious.

He holds her hand in his, guiding her toward the elevator, and she basks in the rightness of this, of them, together. She itches to push him up against the wall, presses her lips, and her front to him, but then the elevator dings and they break apart, breathless. God, she wants him so badly, cannot wait to reconnect with him in this way. He's the best she ever had, the best she ever will have, and with their feelings out in the open, she knows it's going to be even better.

As soon as the door shuts, he's on her, all heat and passion, exactly what she needs, and she melts into him, imagining for a second taking him right here, but then all thoughts leave her as he nips down her collarbone because god, it feels so good.

She cannot keep her hands off of him as they make their way down the hall to his apartment. She's been craving this all summer, wanted him so badly, thought of this so many times and it's better than her wildest fantasies. He's here, with her, is giving this a go, and she's so happy—which just fuels her desire for him, she wants him to feel as good as she does, wants to make him feel this way, over and over.

She's barely stepped into his apartment when he pushes her up against the door, sinking back into it as it shuts. He's untying her dress, hands fiddling with the knot at the back of her neck as he devours her mouth.

As soon as their lips connected at the party, she knew this is where they'd end up. That first kiss was electric, had her breath hitching, thighs weakening, belly warming. It was so much more than just desire, she felt so happy. She wasn't sure she'd ever have this again, and the sheer relief that flooded her at the first press of his lips was incredible. She'd basked in the moment, in the elation, let it wash over her as she kissed him back as hard as she could, pouring each and every emotion into the kiss.

That kiss had set them off, had them both plastered to each other and panting. She'd been able to feel him half-hard in his shorts as she pulled him impossibly closer, trying to quench her thirst for him. A few kisses wasn't enough, and they were firmly on the same page when they broke for air; all it had taken was a suggestive grin and they'd been on their way here.

Good god, she's missed this. Missed the taste of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. It's almost overwhelming how much she's feeling, but it just serves to amp up her arousal.

He's nibbling at her neck and she's moaning, head thrown back, exposing more of her skin so he can do this. God, it's perfect he shouldn't ever stop.

But he does, pulling away from her, and no, that's not at all what she wants, but then he's pulling down her dress and it's off, in a heap on the floor, and yes, that's good.

He's back on her in seconds, and her hands are fisting at his shirt, tugging it off and throwing it behind them. He's unclasping her bra, his breath hot against her ear like she loves. Her hands shake as she undoes his shorts, but soon they are off and his erection pops out.

He is so so hard, she doesn't need the whispered, "I want you so bad," to know that, but it makes her shiver, his words combined with his hot breath in her ear and how he, oh god, nibbles on her earlobe, and oh fuck, yes.

She can't even tell you who got him out of his boxers, but he's lined up against her and she wants him, wants it so bad, is so turned on right now. She's good and wet, ready for him, and when he sends a hand down to remove her thong, he realizes it.

"Oh christ, love," he moans as she does too, her heart filling at the term of endearment.

"Want you," she pants, as his fingers slide against her swollen clit, rubbing slow circles that make her thighs twitch.

"Want my fingers?" he asks, as he slips two inside her, and they both go in with no resistance. All she does is gasp and buck her hips as he searches for her g-spot, finding it a second later and sending pleasure pulsing through her.

He licks up her neck, mouth hovering above hers as he asks, "Or my mouth?"

It takes everything in her to get out a coherent response, "I want, oh mmm, want you, god like that. I want you inside me, fuck me, Robin."

He lowers his face to her skin, huffs out a breath and curses, "Oh fuck, god, that's… I want you so fucking bad it hurts."

"Then take me," she urges, crashing their lips back together.

He does, or he tries to, hikes one of her legs around him so he can enter her, but it's awkward, her sex a little too low for him to do without a slight squat that cannot be comfortable.

He's half-way in and it's what she wants and it feels so good, even just this little bit of him, but it's not quite right.

"Um, what if we—" she starts, then he's hoisting her up into his arms, and yes, please. Somehow he doesn't slip out of her, and those strong arms she's been admiring all night hold her under her thighs. She's braced against the door, her hands around his neck, holding him and taking some of the load off of his arms.

She's always loved how strong he is, that he can throw her around, hold her like this and start to, oh god, thrust into her.

She cries out as he starts a rhythm, the pressure inside of her building already. This should not be enough, but he's grinding his hips into her, and she's coming off of quite the dry spell, and she can feel her orgasm building.

"Oh god, Robin, yes, like that," she pants as he picks up the pace, shifting somehow and making it even better.

She's not normally someone who says a partner's name in bed, but she has a need to this time. To vocalize that she is here, that this is Robin, and she knows he likes it.

"Fuck, love, you feel, oh god, so fucking good," he pants as he pounds into her.

"You, you too. Missed… god, missed this, you so much."

He grunts, his face screwing up in this utterly sexy way. She can't stop watching him, watching them. She knows that this is real, but she can't stop looking, touching, listening, all reassuring her she really is here with him.

This feels so damn good, and she tells him that, relishing in the low moan her confession causes.

Then his breath is hot on her neck, and between nibbles of sensitive skin he asks, "God, are you close, darling? Wanna feel you come so badly."

That just makes her burn hotter for him, she loves when he talks to her, loves the sound of his voice like this, tight and breathy as he fucks her.

She loses herself to all the delicious sensations, starts to babble about how good it feels, as he adds his own breathy confessions that nearly make her lose her mind.

God, she needs to come, is so close, and this is so so good. It's not quite enough, though, and she tries to shift, tries to find a better angle, because her clit is throbbing and she is wound so tight, but it doesn't work.

She tries to savour the edge because she doesn't want this to end, but god, she needs more.

"Uh, fuck, mmm, I'm so close, god, love, are you?" he pants out, and she hisses out a yes, then he's urging her to come for him and it's so hot that for a second she thinks that might do it.

He moans, bites at his lips and pulls out suddenly. She's whining, that'snot what she wanted, but then he's between her thighs and oh fuck, oh fuck, this is what she needed. His tongue swirls against her clit, and it takes everything in her to prevent herself from spilling over.

She tugs at his hair, pulling him from her achy, needy sex before he sets her off. She wants to come on his cock.

"Too close, I need…" that's about all she can get out before his lips claim her again. She loves kissing him, especially when he's this pent up.

When the kiss breaks, she turns in his arms, rubbing her ass against where he's so hard, and so wet. This time she's not all concerned if he has to squat a bit, because it's not like this is going to take long.

This will do it, her clit is throbbing, aching for attention, but if she does that it will make her come, so she waits for him to thrust in, gasping when he does.

Oh fuck yes, this is what she needs, this is, oh god.

Her head snaps back on a loud moan and he's groaning, telling her how close he is and that he can't hold on, that she needs to let go. He's thrusting into hard and fast and begging her to come for him, pleading that he cannot hold on and it's the hottest damn thing she's ever heard.

She's so wound up, and his cock is hitting her so perfectly that all it takes is a few firm spirals on her clit and she's a goner. She shrieks as her orgasm overtakes her. Heated pleasure shoots out from her centre, overtaking her. She writhes and cries out, sensation still spiralling through her as he groans her name, thrusts erratically and spills inside her.

The sound of his orgasm sends shivers down her back. Then his head is resting against her back as he catches his breath. She wants his lips, has missed those sweet afterglow kisses, so she lets his softening cock slip out of her while she turns to kiss him.

Her kisses are soft and slow, which he returns in kind until they start to heat up again.

He breaks the kiss and growls, "I'm not done with you," and oh, thank god, because she's been dreaming of his tongue and those few licks weren't nearly enough. He carries her off into his room as she sends up a little prayer of thanks. She's so lucky to have this again, and they should talk, but he's telling her how he's about to make up for neglecting her breasts, and to hell with that, they can talk in the morning. She's going to enjoy the here and now, all the rest can wait.