Very mild M-ish because I'm inept at writing anything more. My lovely Sandpiper, if you're still reading (hope you are) I'm not ignoring your request, just trying to feel out where to work it in.

Red Dresses and Promises Made

Its late afternoon when she finally gets home from what was supposed to be an easy day at the office. Robin has her dining table covered with papers marked up in red ink and Henry is doing dishes faster than she's ever seen in her life. He's 'studying' with Violet tonight, she remembers now that he had mentioned it this morning when they'd passed in the hall at Emma's. "I'll finish," she tells him, taking the dish towel from his hand and cocking her head toward the door. "Be back by 9, mister," she calls after him. Curfews may be ridiculous for someone who has traversed realms (one of them being the Underworld), but he's still her son and it's a school night.

Henry turns on heal, skips back to the kitchen and kisses her cheek. "I love you," he tells her, winking before running off again. She stares at the closed door for a moment before returning to the kitchen to finish the few glasses he'd left behind.

"You're handling this very well," Robin comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and rocking them back and forth in front of the sink, "Henry having a new woman in his life." He kisses the cheek her other cheek with a smack that echoes through the quiet house.

"Girl," Regina corrects and feels him nod behind her. "She's a nice girl and he should be out doing things with nice girls his age, not fighting off evil with his mothers."

"I agree," Robin continues to hold her loosely, but his lips begin to wander down her neck, across her shoulders and back. "I was just wondering when you came to this realization?" he asks before kissing just behind her earlobe.

"How was your day?" she asks instead of answering him. He won't let it go, she knows this, but she also knows that he'll wait until she's ready.

"It was good." He straightens up, but leaves his hands resting on her hips. "Really good, in fact. I'm glad I decided to give this teaching thing a go."

"Me too," she smiles. "You seem happy, abhorrent grammatical errors and all."

"I am," he confirms, hands wandering up to play with the ends of her hair while she dries. "So what did you do with your day, Madame Mayor?" he asks.

"Oh you know, the usual," she muses. They're flirting needlessly and Regina can't describe how much she's misses this easy back and forth between them so she draws it out the best she can. "Expense report, insulted the munchkins, knocked another villain off the to-do list…" she finishes drying the last glass and Robin doesn't waste a second in turning her toward him, pressing her into the counter with a bruising kiss.

"You haven't worn that dress since—" he pants against her.

"—you pealed it off of me and left it to wrinkle on the floor of my vault?" she teases.

"I don't recall you complaining about wrinkles at the time, mi'lady," he gives right back.

Regina looks at the clock on the stove. She knows Henry won't be home a minute before nine (or a minute after), still plenty of time. She drapes her arms over his shoulders, pulls him down so that her lips brush his ear. "I won't complain now either," she whispers low and seductive then squeaks rather loudly when Robin unexpectedly lifts her onto the counter, hands skimming up her back, seeking out the zipper hidden in the fabric's seam. "Where's Roland?" she asks when he releases her lips barely long enough for them both to draw breath.

"Sleep over," he answers, hastily reclaiming her mouth while his hands coast along the newly exposed skin of her back.

"On a school night?" she questions, but it's lost in a sigh as he begins gently nipping at her pulse point.

"With John," he informs her without breaking the rhythm of his kisses.

That's good, Regina thinks. Or at least the part of her that is still thinking does; the part that is not melting into Robin's every touch. "We should go upstairs," she manages, pushing at his chest so she can scoot herself to the edge of the counter. "Just in case. Our kids are already going to need therapy; they don't need to see this too." They both laugh as Robin helps her back to her feet, pulling the straps of her dress back up to her shoulders. He doesn't bother with the zipper, plans on taking it off again in very short order. They don't get many nights like this, both child and villain free, and he intends to savor every moment.

By the time they get to the bedroom, Regina has her bra unhooked and is shimmying out of her dress. She tosses it to the chair while Robin removes his shirts. She barely gives him time to untangle his arms from the sleeves before she presses against him. Her palms press up the muscles of his back until she's holding onto his shoulders as she lays hungry, wet kisses along the stubble of his jaw, down his neck, across his chest; everywhere she can reach without letting any space between their bodies.

Robin has a hand in her hair, the other unashamedly gripping her ass, as he walks them back towards the bed. He sits, pulling her along to straddle his lap. It takes a bit of coaxing, but he pulls her away enough to kiss her properly. Lips and tongues and teeth all melding into one and its perfect, it's everything he's been waiting to get her alone for for weeks, until it's not. Her pleasured moans turn into a strangled sob that vibrates through his lips straight to his heart.

Regina tries to hold it in; lips moving from his to that spot near his chin that drives him to distraction, hoping her slip will go unnoticed. Of course it does not. He's pulling at her head, gently, always gently, urging her to stop, to look at him, but she can't. She won't. Instead she winds her arms around his neck, buries her face in the crook and begins to rut her hips against him urgently.

Robin's hand slip form her hair, stroke up and down her spine a few times before settling on her rolling hips. He grips her tightly, holding her against him, but stilling her movement. She's desperate in the way she's clinging to him. It's an unusual urgency that shakes him to the core, like he's something she's afraid she'll lose. "What happened today?" he asks again, this time with no intention of letting it go. The only answer he receives is her fingers pressing harder into his shoulders until he's sure they'll be bruises by morning. "Regina, I'm not going anywhere," he assures her. "Tell me."

"I am," she mumbles against him. She feels hot tears slip from her eyes, knows he feels them against his neck.

"You are what, love? I don't understand." Robin loosens his grip on her, lets his arms drape around her waist.

He's waiting. She would wind up soulmates with the most patient man in the universe. She wants to tell him, needs to; he deserves to know. But she doesn't know how. Regina turns her face away from him still resting her cheek against his shoulder, releasing her grip just long enough to wipe her eyes and push her hair behind her ear before she's clutching at him once more. "We defeated Hyde today because Jekyll died," she explains with a voice that trembles under the reality she's facing. "It was the only thing that could stop him. The original…the original had to die. I—"

"Do not finish that sentence," Robin interrupts in the tone her reserves for tearing down a foe or defending her honor.

"I did this. I let her out." She releases him suddenly and scrambles off his lap, pacing the room in only her underwear, arms crossed protectively around her chest. He doesn't understand, she thinks, he won't ever understand. "Robin, I have to destroy her even if…"

"NO," he says again before she can say the words he will not hear. "We'll find another way, Regina, we always do. Me standing here is proof of that!" He steps behind her, wraps her up in his arms before she can turn away. She's scared, he can tell. He can also tell that she wants him to think that she's angry or simply annoyed at the recent turn of events. But he knows her too well, knows her demons and what really hides in her darkness.

They stand like that for long quiet moments in the middle of their bedroom, him just holding her, her back pressed to his front. He doesn't see her tears, nor she his, but neither lets go. "I'm not ready. I'm not ready to leave this life we've built." She lets her arms drop to his, her fingers weave with his where he still holds her waist.

"You won't have to. I won't let it come to that," Robin nuzzles into her hair.

"It may have to," she argues again, trying to make him understand what she herself won't accept.

"No, it…"

"You know it may have to. I already made Emma promise that if there was no other way she would do what has to be done. What if the Evil Queen starts hurting people I care about, if she hurts our kids our kids? If it comes to that I'd never forgive myself and you know it." Her voice is thick with tears, wavering with anger and fear.

He does know, knows she's walk through fire for those she loves, knows she'd sacrifice her own life without thought our hesitation. It scares the hell out of him. "She agreed?" Robin asks, knowing Emma wasn't given the option to refuse.

"She owes me for when she went all Dark Swan," Regina quips. Sarcasm has always been her greatest weapon against her own vulnerability and she will not be vulnerable. Not about this.

"Then you promise me something," Robin's hold tightens around her. He rest his chin on her shoulder so that she feels his hot breath against her ear. "Swear to me on the lives of our children that you'll not even think of this as anything other than a last resort. Absolute last." She takes a second longer to respond than he's comfortable with. Robin releases her, moves so that they're face to face, so that he can cup her face and press his forehead to hers. "Promise me," he asks her desperately.

"I promise." She tips her head up to kiss his temple, wraps an arm around his neck, the other around his back. She takes a moment to breathe him in, to remind herself that he is here with her, safe, real. A moment to remind herself that this man loves her without any reservations, wants her simply because she is. "I love you, you know," she says looking straight into his eyes.

"I know," he tells her. Adds "I love you too," because he does, has loved her to death and back and will fight for her even when she won't fight for herself.

"I'm sorry I ruined our evening alone." Her fingers trail absently along his neck, down his back, and back up.

"There will be others" he assures her as his hand moves slowly from the small of her back to her rear. "Many many others," he smiles against her lips as his hand gropes freely.

"Henry will be home soon," she reminds him, pulling his mouth to hers, pulling his body closer.

He glances at the clock on the nightstand in the momentary pause between her kisses. Henry will be home soon, but there's still time enough to make love to the woman he'll never let go.

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