"I asked Gold to take me out of consideration for the choreography festival," Kathryn remarks casually as they make dinner, like she hasn't just dropped a bombshell.

"Whoa, wait, you did what?" Regina asks, stopping her chopping to gape at her friend. "Is it your knee, are you okay?"

Kathryn takes her eyes off the sauteing onions, frowning, "Oh no, it's fine, oddly, performance weeks helped, I think because my part had so little dancing."

Regina's brows furrow. "Then what… I don't understand."

Kathryn smirks, the expression staying on her face as she returns her attention to the frying pan. "So you remember Frederick, right?"

"I do…"

"Well, after our date the other night he had to say goodbye, but he mentioned the travelling Swan Lake he's doing over the summer is still looking for a couple dancers. I sent in a tape, and they want me, but rehearsals start in two weeks."

"Oh, congratulations, I'm so happy for you. I can't believe you didn't mention it."

That smirk on Kathryn's face grows, "Sorry, I've been a little, uh, distracted."

Regina raises her brows, "Good distracted?"

"Oh fuck, you have no idea. I don't think I've ever had this much sex in my life. And we just, I don't know how to explain it, we click. It feels like we've known each other forever. He gets me, really gets me, and I just… I want to explore that more. So when I told Gold I got this role and I wanted to do it, he was all for it. I honestly think he's pretty done with me, I've plateaued and he's counting down the time until I'm gone."

Regina shakes her head as she bumps Kathryn over with her hip to add in the poorly cut peppers. "No, that can't be true, Gold loves you."

Kathryn snorts, "No, he used to. I'm past my prime now. The way he's cast me this year makes it clear he's ready for the end. I think if I hadn't given my notice he wouldn't have renewed me. And that's okay. I'm going to miss it, but I'm also really excited to do something new. There's a whole world out there I've barely explored. I love how Frederick is doing it, jumping into new companies as they need extras, getting to learn from new people, dance with new partners. I feel like that's what keeps you from getting stagnant, and I am stagnant right now. But this is a new show with all new people; it's really exciting. I always used to love going for the touring shows, I'm not really sure why I stopped, that first time was to try and save my marriage, but after that, I should have gone back."

After living together and working together for so long, Regina should have known, but she had no idea Kathryn felt that way, and she tells her as much.

Regina gets a weary smile in response and a softly spoken admission that makes her feel like less of a terrible friend. "Neither did I… until I started talking to Frederick. Even if he and I don't work out, he's given me such a gift. He reminded me how many other opportunities are out there."

It's hard for Regina to fathom being so happy and settled about leaving, but Kathryn has had longer to come to terms with her decision, and maybe someday Regina will feel the same way.

"Well, I am so happy for you, but damn, I am going to miss you. When do you leave?"

"A week and half, I'm so sorry I should have told you sooner, I just, I only got a ticket today and—"

Regina chuckles as she stops her friend. "I'm not mad. Like you said, you've been occupied, which, by the way, I want to hear all about in a minute. I was only asking because it will be weird being around here without you, doing a show without you."

"Well," Kathryn starts leadingly, "It will give you the place to yourself when Daniel gets here, and thank god because let me tell you, those noise cancelling headphones don't work as well as they should."

Regina feels heat rise up her cheeks and she mutters, "Oh, god."

"Yeah, that's the kind of thing I could do without hearing."

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, I had no idea."

Kathryn shakes her head, "It's really fine, you gotta get it when you can. But… thin walls and all. That's why I've been spending so much time at Frederick's AirBnb."

"Oh god," Regina moans and Kathryn winks at her, making her blush harder, "I… I seriously owe you so much, I didn't realize. I swear I wouldn't have, if I knew—"

"Well, if my sex life wasn't such a dreck you might have but…"

She should not bring this up, should pretend she doesn't know and let her friend tell her in time, but she cannot resist, "Speaking of… Robin mentioned something about Killian—"

Kathryn freezes, her eyes widening as her face goes pale. "Oh, fuck, no. You-you know?"

Regina nods, "I do, and um, you might want to give that a stir," she says gesturing to the pan, "the bottom is starting to stick."

Kathryn does as suggested, muttering a few curses under her breath. "Yeah, so, that was a huge mistake. Huge…"

Regina lightly grasps Kathryn's arm for a second, "You don't owe me any explanations. We've all made mistakes when liquor was involved. Now, if you tell me there wasn't liquor involved… I might have a different reaction."

Kathryn snorts, "Oh no, please, there was so much liquor. God, so much, too much liquor. Do you remember that time I was hungover for three days?"

Regina laughs, "Yes, no wonder you were so queasy."

"Yeah, that was rough. But anyway…"

Accepting the change of subject, Regina peppers Kathryn with questions about her roles, this touring company and her love life until their stir fry is ready.

Castings for the choreography festival were posted earlier in the week, and Robin is pumped because he got the solo piece he wanted, Consumed by the Darkness. The casting for it was different, and that only made Robin want it more. Where most choreographers are just happy to have someone, anyone perform their piece, Neal insisted on having a say in casting—and Robin has no doubt if he hadn't been happy with the options he would have pulled it. It wasn't enough for Neal to just see them dance it, he spoke to all of the guys up for the lead, to ensure they understood his vision.

It's not a courtesy Gold would have extended to anyone else, not something that ever happens, but when Neal explained Gold is his estranged father, it clicked.

Before this casting, Robin was unaware Gold even had a son, and it's clear that that relationship is very strained.

Gold is very hands off of this one, and Robin thinks it will be better for that (not that he would ever mention that to anyone—he's not looking to get himself fired).

Neal has such a vision with this, and Robin is excited to bring it to life, but also full of trepidation. The piece is fucking difficult, and he has not yet mastered (or even come close to) the precision needed to make it work. If he misses the sheet even once the whole thing falls apart, which happens every time he tries to make it through, and there are only two and a half weeks until performances start.

Robin has to do this right, and it's killing him that he can't seem to get it.

Neal is much more patient than he is, assures Robin he will get it, that it will all work out.

Robin doesn't normally stress this much this early, but this piece is so important to him, so he's putting even more pressure on himself than normal.

That's why at seven pm he's still at the studio working. He's sharing the space with Regina and Killian who are trying to master the more difficult lifts in their sensual duet.

Like him, they are very challenged by their piece, and like him are putting in the work to ensure it's perfect.

It's nice to have someone here with him, to have people to talk to, to laugh with and take breaks with. They've been having a lot of laughs tonight, over all the falls and misses Regina and Killian are having.

He managed to catch the best one, where Regina got stuck with one leg around Killian's neck, that one leg stopping her from falling to the ground. None of them are sure how that happened, but the image was truly hilarious, as was how Regina lowered her arms to the ground with Killian's help, in a sort of handstand and rolled off of him.

When no one gets hurt, those mishaps are always comical. Even the one where Killian fell and took Regina down with him had the two of them in stitches.

Robin, too, was laughing when they attempted to start again, but Regina was laughing too hard and slipped. She commented dryly after Killian saved her from falling on her face, "I'm glad your reflexes are better than your sense of style and skills in the bedroom," which had Robin chortling so hard his face started to hurt.

Killian mocked offence over that, but he was still laughing over the earlier mishap, so it didn't land very well.

Their amusement over their mistakes, and the way they take the piss out of each other, are welcome counterpoints to Robin's growing frustration. Hearing them genuinely enjoying the process, those peals of laughter that ring out at random moments, helps to ground him.

Still, Robin can't help but growl when he finally gets close to the end, to finishing it for the very first time, and stumbles on his way down to the floor.

He beats his fists down on the ground, huffing an, "ugh," before standing up to start again because he still can't fucking do this.

"Hey, Robin, you okay?" Killian asks, and Robin looks over at them and nods, through gritted teeth.

"I'll be fine, I just need to get this."

"You will," Regina says, stepping toward him. "You are getting closer, just tonight you've made so much progress."

It doesn't feel that way to him, it feels like he's been given this incredible gift and he is wasting it because he can't fucking do it. It's too damn hard, and he is never going to get it.

He scoffs, "Please," and her eyebrows raise.

Her voice grows softer, sweeter, "I know you are frustrated, but I wouldn't lie to you; it's getting better."

He sighs, "It doesn't feel that way." By now she is close enough to touch him, and she does, pulling him for a hug.

"It will, you'll see."

"Until I know I'm dancing this my best, the best it can be, I'm going to be frustrated," he whispers into her hair and he feels her look up at him, before he turns his eyes down to meet her soulful browns.

"I know, and we're here to help, whatever you need."

Killian speaks up again to echo, "That's right, whatever you need, mate. We're here."

"I'm even agreeing with the pirate," Regina comments. "So you know it's serious."

That nickname came about after Killian had an eye injury that required him to cover his eye for two weeks—and even though it was three years ago, for Regina it stuck. Killian doesn't mind at all, though he pretends to. Killian implicitly encourages it, by dressing up as a pirate for every Halloween since.

Robin sighs again, "Thanks guys, I appreciate that. I'm not there yet, but um, maybe tomorrow you could watch it, give me some tips. I should record it, but I might lose it if I see how truly bad it is."

"Show us now," Killian urges, "If there's something off you don't want to gain more muscle memory of doing it like that. We could use some of that, too, actually, I'm doing something weird in that slow lower to my knees, it's all jerky but I can't figure out why."

For some reason, the idea of showing them makes him nervous, which is ridiculous, practice and learning is a huge part of what they do, it's why they are rehearsing together. But he wants it to be perfect, wants it to be seen only when it's perfect—that's not how this works, and Killian is right, they will probably see things that will help him get out of this rut.

He blows out a long breath, and resigns himself to looking terrible in front of them. Better them than the whole company; they won't judge him, they've all been there before.

Robin might be more nervous to show it to Regina than anyone else though. He's never connected this much to a dance and she is the only one who knows why he's so taken with it. Is the only one who knows bits and pieces of his history, and even then she doesn't know all of it. It's not just about making a fool of himself in front of her, something he's done a hundred times over, it's showing her that he's not dancing this piece the way it deserves

"Okay, let's do this," he breathes, and they both smile, settling themselves at the front of the studio while he cues up the music.

He barely makes it through the first jump sequence before he cocks it up, swearing and stopping as he does so.

"No, don't stop," Regina commands, "just move onto the next bit. The constant stopping is not helping you at all, and you need to know how to recover from the mishaps."

She's right of course, but he still cues up the music to the beginning to start over.

"You can do this, Robin," she says, giving him a wide-brimmed-smile, that unspools some of the tension in his chest. "I know you can."

And with her looking at him like that for a split second Robin feels like he can. That feeling goes away as soon as he messes up again, but this time he recovers and goes on to the next move, which he flubs, too, but at least he's trying, and it does feel slightly better.

The next few rehearsals are straight up disasters, he has somehow regressed and gotten worse at his piece instead of better.

So even though it's Saturday night, Robin's still in the studio working, getting more and more frustrated as it gets worse and worse.

There's no quitting while he's ahead tonight, since he's somehow like twelve steps behind where he was before, which wasn't even a good place.

At least this time there is no one here to see his failure. Regina and Killian are taking the weekend off, something they can afford to do since their piece actually looks like a dance and not a guy clamouring around the stage like a plonker.

He's not sure how many hours he's been at this for, but enough that he's sore, agitated and starting to feel defeated.

All he needs is one good one, just one, then he can go home, take a long hot bath and rest his weary muscles.

Just one.

It's such a low goal and yet, it's been hours and he has been nowhere close to that.

Maybe he should just give up, but he can't imagine going home after this, feeling this way. He's not a quitter, but this piece is besting him, and his frustration is making it even worse.

He'll take a little break, just a quick one, then it's back to the grind.

Robin checks his phone for the first time in hours, and grimaces when he sees just how many times Regina had texted him. He'd turned it off so it wouldn't be a distraction, something she clearly found out when she called him.

She figured out what he was doing, in fact her first message had been: You had better not be at the studio right now

Then half an hour later: Robin

And an hour after that: Omg Robin you are aren't you

Ignoring me won't make this stop.

I'll come down there, you know I will

Then after her call: I'll give you another hour but if you are still at it and haven't answered me I'm coming to the studio.

That was forty minutes ago, shit.

Robin calls her in a panic, nearly drops his phone with his haste, but he does not want her coming here. He does not want anyone to see this.

She answers his call with a casual, "It's too late, I'm already on the way."

He won't lie to her, so he doesn't deny where he is or how long he's been at it. "That's not necessary, I'm leaving soon."

"Well, perfect then, meet me outside, we can go for dinner."

"I'm not hungry," Robin tells her and that's true—he probably should be considering he's been dancing for six hours with only a few handfuls of almonds as a snack, but if it's there, he doesn't feel it. His stomach is instead leaden, heavy with the weight of all of his failures.

It's not that he doesn't want to see Regina, he always wants to see her, but he's cranky, irritable and dancing poorly.

But Regina is not deterred by his paltry excuses, "Fine, we'll do something else then. I'll be there in fifteen, meet me outside."

Then she hangs up before he can try to talk her out of it, and ignores his subsequent calls.

Well, that's that then.

He'll just have to make this work somehow in the next fifteen minutes. An impossible feat, but one he'll attempt and berate himself over not achieving anyway.

He tries, fucks up, tries to recover, fucks up again, and it goes on and on. He swears with every mistake, something about vocalizing his frustration taking some of the weight off of his chest. He's the only one here anyway, so fuck it, no one can hear him.

So when he falls onto the ground, Robin lets out a ripe string of curses, just in time for Regina to walk in.

Her eyebrows raise as she takes in the scene, and the vulgar yelling that just occurred. Robin peels himself off of the floor into a seated position as he stammers, "Shit, Regina, I—"

"You are having a rough day, aren't you?"

He tries to shake off his ire, to blow it all away with a long sigh, but it's futile; he's wound too tight for some deep breathing to fix his problems.

So Robin goes for honesty. "I'm having a really shitty day."

Regina smiles softly, sympathetically. "Come on, let's go."

"No, I can't. I have to get this, I can't just—"

"No, what you need is to take a break."

"Regina, look at me," he gestures to himself, "I can't."

She steps toward him, an arm stretching outward to help him up off the floor and he accepts her help, groaning as his muscles protest.

She arches a brow at the groan, and it's then he knows he's lost this battle. She won't leave until he does, and he is tired.

"Go take a shower, Robin, then we're getting out of here. You've been here all day, you've done all you can."

"But—"

"No buts, go."

That is the tone you do not mess with, so Robin sighs, and heads toward the showers, belatedly realizing he didn't bring any of his own stuff. He so rarely showers here, prefers to head home and use his own, but that's not an option right now.

There are communal towels and supplies so he'll make do with those. It's really just a quick, de-sweat, since he took a hot shower followed by a bath the night before.

He's in and out in five minutes, uses the forest scented body wash someone left in there, the only one that wasn't that disgusting Axe or marked as someone's.

It actually smelt really good, and he's in the market for a new body wash since the Outlaw stuff he used to use stopped being sold locally. While he could order it online, he prefers not to—not that the generic cheap drugstore brand he's been using is any better for the local economy.

Robin took note of the bottle, Forest, and made a mental note to check out the Bath and Body Works the next time he's out running errands. Something he decides he has to do when Regina remarks that he smells great.

"Are you still pretending you aren't hungry or can I take you for dinner first?" Regina asks, and Robin laughs for the first time all day.

"I'm starved actually," he admits with a sheepish grin, and she smirks, pleased as punch.

"Any preference?"

He knows she's not going to like his suggestion of fast food, but now that he's allowed himself to feel his hunger, it's practically overtaking him and he doesn't want to wait.

Regina ponders that for a second and smiles, "Actually that works well for what I had planned after, come on."

She leads Robin out of the studio without telling him what they are doing and when he asks, she attempts to wink at him (something he always finds exceedingly adorable and this is no exception) and teases him that he'll see when they get there.

He doesn't figure it out until she pushes the stop button on the bus, and they exit just by Bonwood Bowl.

She's giving him a win, which he so desperately needs, and he could almost cry at that revelation, his nerves so fried this simple gesture has him overcome.

Regina is the worst bowler he's ever seen in his life, and while she says she doesn't mind bowling, he knows she hates to lose, and that her lack of skill grates on her because she's such a perfectionist.

They get their lane and head straight to the food, and he straight up laughs when Regina says she's considering a salad. Who gets a salad at a bowling alley? She always does this. When they get fast food, she always contemplates whatever the seemingly healthiest item is before ultimately getting what she actually wants.

He gets the appetizer sampler and some hot wings. He rarely eats fried foods, but it seems he's indulging tonight, and in the spirit of that, he also orders a beer.

He's already feeling better as they head to their lane, not good by any stretch of the imagination, but better, and that in itself is a huge relief.

Regina directs him to go first, and he's too aggressive with his first ball, hurling it down the lane with ample speed but no direction, so it slides into the gutter.

Dammit.

He can do better, he knows he can. On his next swing, he's far more careful, ensuring to release straight, surrendering a little speed for accuracy. His efforts are not in vain as he throws a spare, and yes, finally something is going right for him. He may not be able to get his dance right, but he can throw a ball and knock down some pins. Maybe he's in the wrong field.

Regina gives him a little cheer, when he turns back toward her, then groans as she picks up her ball, warning him against teasing her for her lack of skill.

Both of her balls end up in the gutter and she sighs, throwing her hands up and shrugging it off.

"I suck, we knew this," she comments, and Robin can't help but chuckle.

"Sorry, darling, but you really do."

At that, she whaps him on the arm admonishing him. "Robin, you jerk."

"Hey, you said it first."

She glares at him, "And you were supposed to lie and tell me I'm decent or just need practice, spew some sickeningly encouraging shit."

He snickers, "Sorry, my bad. You've got this, with loads of practice you might throw a spare."

Regina rolls her eyes, "Because that's so much better."

"What? That didn't leave you inspired and motivated?"

She huffs and raises her brows, "Not a chance—"

"I'll just leave this here," the guy from the food stand says, dropping their dinner on the table just behind their lane. "Just a reminder, no eating in the bowling area."

"Yes, thank you," Robin tells him and with that, the guy is off and Robin's descending on his massive amount of food.

Regina steals a few pieces from his appetizer platter, and he teases her about it even though he didn't expect anything less. Getting a meal in does wonders for his mood, and he's actually feeling decent now that his belly is full, and even more so when his next throw ends in a strike.

"You are too good at this game," Regina grumbles, before shooting both of her balls into the gutter.

"Let me help you next round, I beg of you," he pleads, because it almost hurts him to watch how bad she is. Though his coaching usually only helps for one or two throws before she reverts, she agrees, and the rest of the night is spent teaching her how to aim her throws.

Robin's score for the first round vastly surpasses Regina's, but in the second round, it's a little more even, mostly because he intentionally messes up a few of his throws in an effort to make her feel better.

He doesn't understand how someone with so much body awareness can't aim a throw, and mimic his movements, but she really can't.

She's trying, he knows she is, but she's still lousy. Now though, not every one of her balls are ending up in the gutter, and he counts that as a win.

The way Regina cheers when she finally gets a spare warms his entire body, she looks shocked, but so happy, so proud of herself, and she should be. He embraces her in a tight hug, whispering, "That's it, that's my girl, you did it. I knew you could."

"You are a great teacher," she marvels, "Now stop throwing your game for my pride, let's see how many strikes you can get in a row."

The rest of the night is filled with laughs, and little victories, Regina beaming every time she manages to knock down more than two pins. That spare seems to have been a fluke, but she's playing leagues better than she ever has, and that makes him so happy.

When they finish their last round, he realizes he hasn't thought about his piece all night. Gone is his foul mood, his sense of defeat. If Regina can manage a spare in bowling with how utterly terrible she is at the game, surely he can manage this dance with a bit more practice.

He needed this, needed to be distracted, to get out of his head and out of his frustrations. He's so lucky to have a best friend who knows him this well, who drags him out of the studio despite his protests to help him get here.

He needs to make an effort with Daniel when he's here, Robin realizes. He needs to do everything he can to ensure he doesn't get cut out when Regina leaves, that would gut him if it happened, and he's not sure he'd ever recover. He needs her in his life, needs his friend more than anything else, and he's going to fight to keep her in it.