Brief trigger warning for the mention of a past miscarriage.

Robin settles back onto the couch as the soft Skype connection sound melodically plays from the laptop speakers. It only takes a few moments for the blue logo to drift away, showing him a slightly distorted view of his son. For a kid that once wore ripped band t-shirts and baggy jeans, sometimes it's jarring to see his oldest in a gray polo paired with khakis. He finally admitted his eyesight was shit in college and began wearing his black rimmed glasses. A soft smile falls against Robin's face as the connection improves, giving him a better look at James.

"Hey Dad," his son says, the slight Southern accent he's picked up since moving to Texas seven years ago present in his voice.

The word "dad'" rushes over Robin like warm water. David has mostly called him by the term of endearment since they were kids. From around 9 to 20, James had stopped. If he dared to call Robin anything, it was usually his first name. Robin tried not to take it personally. His son was going through an especially hard time. James would later admit he wanted to start using it again sooner, but just didn't know how. Robin honestly did care what his boys called him these days, so long as they actually kept up with him.

James' background is homey. He sits on a cream-colored couch that sits before just one of James and Belle's many bookcases. This one so happens to be filled with their travel collection. A porcelain white and gold globe sits a couple of shelves down, next to a picture of the couple on their honeymoon to London.

"Hey bub," Robin replies. Another change over the past few years, James no longer rolls his eyes at the nicknames Robin has for him. "Your place is really shaping up there."

James beams. "We try. Belle has only dragged me to just about every Ikea, Home Goods or related store in about a 50-mile area."

"You don't seem to totally hate that."

"Who would've thought after a long week of dealing with unruly kids, I'd want to spend it interior decorating. And yet, as long as she gets me coffee, we're good."

"How are your classes this year?"

James launches into his students, keeping that glow he has whenever he talks about his job. After finishing his masters, James got a job teaching 10th and 11th grade History at the local high school. Robin cannot picture being with hundreds of teenagers, all day, every day. He barely survived with just the two. It's still the perfect job for James. He was always a history buff, forcing Robin and David to watch super long documentaries about medieval weaponry whenever it was his turn to pick the movie. Robin always suspected James would end up in teaching or working for a muesem.

David becoming a firefighter still took him by surprise. He had studied exercise science in college. David claimed after his first run with drugs and sports injuries, he just didn't have it in him to further his education to become a physical therapist like he originally wanted. Robin argued with him about it for months, but David pushed through the training and eventually passed his certification. There wasn't anything Robin could do except make sure he was safe.

"Anyway," James continues. "I have a huge stack of essays to grade."

"Do you need to go?"

"No, they can wait. I probably won't go to sleep at a normal time anyway."

Robin fixes him with a Look. "James."

"Dad." James rolls his eyes. "You know even if I wanted to sleep, there's that little disorder that often denies me of it."

"Have you been taking your medication?"

"Yes, I have, because I'm 25 years old and I don't need you to remind me."

Robin sighs, scratching the back of his neck. There are times he can go a little overboard. "Hey, you'll always be my kid."

James smiles. "I know. And I miss you, both of you. Where is my idiot brother anyway?"

"Somewhere around here, probably killing himself with weights."

"Hey." Robin glances up from the laptop to find David leaning in the doorway, hydro flask in hand. "I'll have you know, I was doing suicide drills."

Robin doesn't miss James' flinch at the term and he gives him a knowing Look. He also hates the term, always has. But after bursting into David's apartment and finding him face first on the floor…

"Hi Jamie," David says, crossing the room and dropping beside Robin.

James' worry leaves his face and he rolls his eyes once more. "'Sup, Davey?"

David grunts. "You know I hate when you call me that."

"And I hate when you call me Jamie, so we're even."

"You're lucky I'm not there or else I'd sit on you."

"I'm so scared, chicken legs."

"Hey, at least I…"

"Boys," Robin holds up a hand, making both of his sons look up at him. "How old are you again?"

"David started it," James points out.

David lets out a small ha. "And you were supposedly born first."

Robin sits back, allowing them to trade a few jabs back and forth. The twins keep huge, identical grins on their face in the process. There was a time when this wouldn't be fun. The boys would hurl insults back and forth, maybe get into a few physical fights. James would end up in their room, David in Robin's as the boys had to share. It took years for them to be in a good place again. David's injury their senior year is probably what aided that the most.

A door in the background of James' side opens. He glances up, a different smile going across his lips. This one is awestruck, his blue eyes practically in the shape of stars.

"Hey, babe."

They can only see the back of Belle's red and black plaid dress as she enters the frame, kissing James. David gags and takes a swig of his water. Robin knocks shoulders with him.

"Hey Belle," he says as his daughter-in-law settles in on the couch. Her long chestnut curls are held up in a bun with one of those huge octopus clips. Her cream-colored knock-off designer purse sits elegantly in her lap. "How was your day?"

"Great. Just trying to reorganize the children's section for an event we're having on Saturday. How about you? Did either of you have a shift?"

Robin shakes his head. "We start another 24-hour go tomorrow."

"I give you credit, I don't know how you do it. I'm barely enough of a morning person to walk Snickerdoodle."

As if on cue, their tiny Pomeranian jumps onto James' lap. It's weird to see his rough and tough son with such a small dog. "That's why I end up doing it," James points out.

Belle nudges him. "Hey, did you tell them yet?"

James scratches the dog behind the ears. "No, I wanted to wait for you."

David tilts his head. "Tell us what?"

James and Belle exchange a look for a few moments. She digs through her purse and then holds up a tiny black and white photograph. It takes Robin a few moments to adjust his eyes and realize…

"Is that a sonogram?"

James and Belle's matching grins stay on. "Yeah," James says. "You're going to be a grandfather."

Tears prick to the sides of Robin's eyes as David cheers. Belle laughs, James keeping his gaze on Robin. He's trying to keep it together, but dammit. James has come so far in a short period of time. He got his anger under control and attends weekly therapy sessions to keep it in check. The boy who once claimed that college would never be for him, had a masters in teaching with a minor in history. He was married to an incredible woman, who was ecstatic to join their family. Now, he's going to be a father. Robin is going to be a grandfather! God, he's not old enough. Maybe he'll have to come up with some alternatives to "grandpa"…

"You okay, old man?"

Robin sniffles, ignoring the comment as he desperately bats the sides of his face. "Are you okay?" He looks at both of them. "Do you need anything? When are you due? Should we come down…"

"Robin," Belle interrupts. "We're fine, I'm fine. I have a little morning sickness and suddenly have an aversion to eggs benedict, but it's all normal. I'm due early April of next year. We wanted to wait a bit to tell anyone…just in case."

Robin nods, understanding. He and Ruth had gotten pregnant a little after they first moved in together. Completely unplanned and they were in no place to have a third child. Still, deep down, they were very excited. Before they could even tell the boys, Ruth started spotting. The doctors said there was nothing they could do. In a way, both were grateful. The money wasn't there and having a toddler while they dealt with all the cancer stuff would've been a nightmare.

It doesn't stop Robin from wondering what might have been.

"And you guys don't need to worry about coming down for now," James continues. "We're actually going to come up around Christmas and spend a few weeks with you guys since I'll be off work."

"We know you'll both have to go in for at least a little on the 25th, but we can do our traditional Boxing Day celebration," Belle adds.

"That sounds great," David says. "You can meet everyone up here."

"How's all that been?" James asks. "You like the new crew?"

"They're pretty great. Very welcoming and helpful."

Robin nods once more. "Yeah, I was worried how they'd feel about me coming out of nowhere and taking over. I didn't want to pass anyone up in terms of seniority, but none of them made a fuss."

"That's great," James says. "And hey, David, any cute people?"

Robin expects his younger son to roll his eyes, but instead, the tips of David's ears turn pink. He tilts his head and David just shrugs.

"I mean, it's September in Maine. Girls in nice sweaters, guys in jeans that leave very little to the imagination."

"There's totally someone," Belle says, a sly grin going across her face.

David finally rolls his eyes. "There's not, so as much as you might think you know everything, you don't."

"Sure." Belle fixes him with a Look. "What's her name?"

"You know," David changes the subject. "I heard there are lots of single women Dad's age."

Robin holds back a groan. There they go again. Before James moved, this was a near weekly occurrence where they'd try to set him up. "Smooth transition, kid," he says, hoping they'll let it go.

"David, we'll get back to you," James points in the direction of his brother before turning his attention to his dad. "You know, that was part of the reason for the call."

"It's been 19 years," David points out, taking another sip of his water.

"Your life has basically been us ever since."

"I've dated," Robin argues. And it's true, he has. He certainly hasn't been a monk in the near two decades since his wife passed. There was even someone who could've been a long-term girlfriend but, in the end, kids just weren't her thing and that was an obvious dealbreaker.

"When's the last time you had a date?"

"What is this?" Robin throws his hands in the air. "An intervention for single people?"

Belle pipes up, that ever calm look on her face. "We just want you to be happy, Robin."

"And I am." He throws an arm around David, ruffling his hair. "I've got my boys, a beautiful daughter-in-law and a grandbaby on the way. What more could I want?"

The kitchen of Granny's is now practically charcoal. Smoke seeps up the walls, staining the otherwise beautiful paint. The culprit for all of this, a fancy, top of the line French stove, is covered in ash, with the turkey still inside. All of the customers along with most of the staff stand across the street, watching in curiosity. The owner of this establishment, Georgia "Call me Granny" Lucas, leans against the far wall, refusing to let anyone help her up. Her granddaughter stands a few feet away with one of the cooks, both shaking their heads.

"How did this happen?" Robin asks Remy.

"I was making the dinner special and then…" He wiggles his fingers dramatically. "Kablam."

Robin takes in his ash-stained face. He can see a part of his ear is going to require medical attention. Remy ducks into his arm coughing heavily.

Merida pipes up. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I ran as soon as it happened."

"The paramedics will be here soon," Will explains. "Let them look you over, they'll probably want to give you oxygen." He cranes his neck to look over at Granny. "You too, Granny."

"I'm fine, I wasn't anywhere near the blast," the older woman croaks out. "I need to stay here while they assess the damages."

"Granny, you fell," her granddaughter Ruby argues. "And you're not exactly standing up."

"I can stand up just fine."

Granny attempts to push herself up, only to nearly collapse once more. Robin rushes to her side, pulling his arms under her legs. She looks up at him, a saucy smile on her face.

"Well, if you want to assist me…"

Robin chuckles. Through the foggy window, he can see the ambulance arrive. "Ma'am. I will gladly carry you out to the bus so you can be checked over."

"I'm fine, young man. Please, just put me down."

Robin sighs, carefully placing her onto a nearby chair. He's learned over the years that people are stubborn, but none more than the elderly. Since they deemed the kitchen as no longer a hazard, Granny has refused to move, insisting to wait until the inspection is complete. And since there is no real danger, Robin can't force her to leave. Even if he could, the most he could do is make her wait outside. Everyone (for the most part) has a right to refuse transport to the hospital.

Ruby leads Remy out, giving the rest of the crew a pleading look. David and Will are still doing their inspection and Merida goes to check up on them. It falls on Robin.

The door to the kitchen bursts open. He recognizes one of the EMTs but the other he must have missed or simply not seen before. Dark chin-length hair frames her face with beautiful brown eyes centered on the scene. She looks right past Robin and over to the elderly woman on the stool.

"Okay, Granny, how we feeling?" she asks. A Brooklyn accent escapes her lips, taking Robin by surprise.

"I'm fine. Tell handsome over here that I'm fine."

The woman glances up at Robin, meeting his smile. A light scar above her lips tugs up with her mouth. God, it's such a gorgeous smile.

Keep it together, Robin. You're at work, he tells himself. There have been plenty of attractive EMTs and paramedics over the years. None of them have ever had this effect on him before.

"I can't tell him that unless you let me take you to be examined," she says. "C'mon, you know how Ruby worries."

"And she worries me, staying out all hours of the night getting drunk and hooking up with God knows who." Robin arches an eyebrow. This isn't the type of grandmother who knits and makes you milk and cookies. Though, he supposes Ruth's mother hadn't been that way either. "Maybe I want to worry her a little."

"I get that," the EMT soothes. "But you also have about half the town out there. And you know if word gets around that you're neglecting your health, they'll wonder what else you're potentially neglecting around here. And then before you know it, they'll all flock to Mr. Cluck's for his overpriced, greasy fried chicken."

Granny narrows her eyes and the EMT smirks. Robin watches the two in astonishment. He's had to reason with stubborn folks before, who he and other first responders have had to reason with. But he's never seen it done so seamlessly as this woman makes it out to be.

"Fine," Granny grunts. "I'll go." She glances over to Robin. "Only if he carries me out."

Robin snaps out of his trance and looks back over to her, smiling. "I'd be happy to ma'am."

He lifts Granny back into his arms and follows the EMTs out of the diner. Robin carries her over to the ambulance with the open back and gently lays her down onto the gurney. The younger EMT calls over a paramedic while the cute one starts to cross over to check on Remy. Robin follows behind her.

"Nice work," he says.

The woman shakes her head. "I've had to deal with Granny a few times. She loves Ruby but the only way to truly motivate her is to let her think she'd lose business."

"Really think she will?"

She shakes her head. "Nah. People are loyal and Granny has good cooking. I think until this kitchen gets up and running again, people will be a little disappointed they have to turn to other options." The woman pauses. "You're the new captain, aren't you?"

"How'd you guess?"

He's taken a bit off guard as she uses two fingers to point to his lapel. "That funny little tag that says Capt. Locksley."

Robin blushes slightly. Idiot. "Right. I'm Robin."

The woman goes to open her mouth when the younger EMT calls out.

"Mills! I need you over here!"

The woman-Mills-nods and yells back that she'll be right there. She turns back around and smiles at Robin. "See ya around, Captain."

Her back faces him once more, running off in the direction of her colleague. Robin heads back into the building, that damn accent staying in his head.

Most of the time after a 24-hour shift, all Robin wants to do is collide with some pillows and sleep for at least 12 hours. After dealing with the mess at Granny's and one other serious call on Fillow Street, he needs a huge cup of tea, a soak with those bath salts Belle gave him last Christmas, his moisturization ritual and then off to bed where he'll blast some white noise to drown out the rest of the world.

They get off at 8 and most of the crew says they want to hit up Aesop's. At first, he's ready to tell them to have fun, he'll see them later. Ten David takes up Will's invitation. Robin hesitates. He didn't follow his son when he hit up the bar early this week. He tried to give him his space…and he still couldn't fully enjoy his night. Robin knows if he lets David go to the bar alone, he's not going to be able to enjoy his bath. The white noise will not be enough. He'll be awake until David comes home.

Instead of flannel pajama pants and an old t-shirt, Robin is in jeans and a polo. Aesop's is a lot calmer than he expected. Classic rock blares over the stereo. In the back room, some people play pool or toss around darts. The menu is filled with artisanal beer or specialty cocktails, half of which Robin has never even heard of. Eventually, he goes off of Keith's recommendation and gets a beer with a llama on the front and a name he can't even pronounce. It's good though, so he sips it as he awkwardly walks around the bar. Before, he'd be able to hit off with most of his crew. As nice as most of them are, a good chunk are younger and he doesn't know them very well yet.

He glances over at David, who has a seltzer in hand while he chats with a few of the cops that have shown up. After looking closer at a sign on the bulletin board in the corner, Robin realizes its first responder night. Half priced drinks for everyone who works the front lines. In that case, maybe he will order another beer.

"It's you again. The new captain."

Robin turns around at the sound of that familiar Brooklyn accent. Mills is out of her uniform and in a black tank top paired with torn dark jeans. Her lipstick resembles a dark merlot and the eyeliner she's applied nicely makes her eyes pop. In hand is a martini glass, half-full.

He smiles. "And you're Mills."

She lets out a loud, intoxicating laugh before extending her free hand. "Regina, Regina Mills."

"Robin Locksley." He shakes with her, doing his best not to linger too long.

"I wouldn't take this to be your place," she observes, leaning against the bar as she sips her drink. "Not to mention, you look exhausted."

"I feel it. Though this is a lot calmer than some pubs I went to in my hay day."

"Pubs," Regina squints her eyes. "You're British, aren't you?"

"Aye," Robin chuckles. "I moved to the States when I was 5 and nearly lost my accent, then went back to the mothership for uni and pretty much got it back."

"Uni." Her imitation is nearly worse than the boys when they mock him. "Say something else."

"Bob's your uncle."

Another rumbling laugh escapes her lips and Robin grins. "Thank you, I needed that."

"Glad to be of service. I note your accent differs from most around here."

"New York."

"Brooklyn?"

Regina smiles. "Good ear."

"Spent some time there before my mother moved us to Michigan. Had probably some of the best pizza I've ever tasted."

"Seriously one of the few things I miss about it." She looks him up and down. "Can I ask you a probably weird question?"

"Shoot."

"I heard you have a son on your payroll…but you don't even look old enough to be a rookie's dad."

Robin chuckles. "I'm probably not. My wife had the twins young, 20 years old. David's 25 now."

"Wow, twins? That young?"

"She did it on her own the first two years." Regina tilts her head. "They're uh, they're not exactly mine biologically. Ruth was my best friend in high school. When I came back from uni, she had two cute little boys. I fell in love with the three of them."

Regina's face softens. "That's really sweet."

Robin shrugs, taking a swig of his beer. "They made it hard not to love them."

"I heard your wife passed, I'm so sad for you."

Robin arches an eyebrow. "Some would just say they're sorry to hear that."

"Well, you see, I'm a member of the dead wife club, so I've heard all the cliches."

"Ah, what year did you join?"

"2014, and you?"

"Senior member, 1998."

"Does that mean you get the cool jacket?"

Robin shakes his head in faux sadness. "Ya don't get that until you're 25 years in."

"Dammit," Regina smirks around her drink. "Most think I'm crazy for making dead wife jokes."

Robin gets that. For so long he sat there feeling sorry for himself but James taught him that grief can be funny. And sometimes, it's better to laugh than just sit there and cry. People have long since told Robin how inappropriate he is for saying things like "My wife got sick of me and found a creative way out". Without it, Robin would still probably be the guy curled up in bed, feeling the pain on a constant basis.

"Well, most people haven't had to use comedy to cope with grief, he says.

"Exactly." She raises her martini. "To the dead wife club."

Robin clinks his bottle against her glass. "To the dead wife club." He takes another sip.

How can it be so easy to talk to someone that you just met?

"I'm a part of the single parent club too," Regina adds. "Though my boys aren't as grown as yours."

"What ages?"

"Henry's 14, Roland's 8. I just got off a shift and was going to go home to them, but my father convinced me to go have some fun. According to him and the boys, I never do."

"My twins were just getting on me about that. Once they have kids of their own…"

"They'll get it."

"Exactly." He notices Regina's glass is becoming a little empty. "Can I buy you another drink?"

Regina stares at him for a moment before shrugging. "I was going to blow Mary Margaret off and head home…but who am I to turn down a free martini?"

Robin grins and walks with her back to the bar. He's so preoccupied with Regina, he doesn't even hear the commotion going on at the end with David, Killian and a girl around their age with a pixie cut…