A/N: Hey guys! I know it's been a while and you've been asking for it so here is the next chapter of Sunny Side! Enjoy!


It's another Wednesday morning at Granny's Diner. Six Wednesdays since that fateful night when Robin and Regina had decided to have a child together. The diner is a symphony of clinking silverware and disjointed chatter from the customers filling every table. The kitchen grill is hot and loaded up with sizzling eggs and meat and the smell of bacon and coffee fills the air as the staff rushes to fill their orders.

Same as always Robin and Regina sat in the third booth from the door and on the surface it appeared that nothing had changed. They'd kept up with their tradition of Wednesday morning breakfast, down to the booth even. But over the past few weeks things had changed. No longer were their morning meetings a time to blow off steam and enjoy each other's company. There was no more talk of irritating coworkers and family grievances. Wednesday mornings were now reserved for one thing and one thing only: planning for the baby.

Regina sat across from him in the booth now, wearing a white blouse she'd matched with a pair of high-waisted black slacks. The remains of her food had been pushed aside and she'd moved onto her second mug of coffee. Robin stared at her, an expectant look on his face.

"So…" he drawled. "Did you get a chance to go through the profiles again?"

She looked up from her coffee to send him an annoyed look. Nodding her head she sighed, "Yes I looked through the profiles again."

"And? Did you see anyone you liked?" he questioned, a hint of urgency to his tone.

"Did you?" she replied, setting down her coffee and arching an eyebrow at him. He sent her an exasperated look from across the table.

Two weeks ago, after getting the okay from both of their doctors, they'd taken a weekend trip up to Boston to visit the fertility clinic that Robin had chosen. Since everything appeared to be in good order with their eggs and sperm their counselor said the next step would be choosing their surrogate. They'd been drowning in profiles ever since, going back and forth over which potential surrogates appeared to be good choices. Robin thought she was being overly critical and she found him to be more than a little lenient. It had put them in a bit of a stalemate.

Robin glanced away before mumbling, "I thought a couple of the women looked like good options…"

Regina raised her eyebrows at him. "But…?" she supplied.

Robin sighed before seriously looking her in the eyes. "But I'm afraid you won't like them."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you've tossed out every profile I've sent your way," Robin desperately pointed out.

A scoff flew from her throat. "That's not true."

He tilted his head at her, disbelief clear in his eyes. "Regina…"

"Alright, I've been a little… selective," she reluctantly admitted.

Selective was putting it lightly. He'd sent her dozens of profiles over the past few days, none of them had appealed to her. She always found a factor or reason to write them off. It had been more than a little frustrating.

"But it is the woman who will be carrying our child," replied Regina in a hushed voice. "Can you blame me for being a little picky?"

"I don't!" Robin immediately refuted her claim. "I just wish you'd pick someone to meet with. We've looked at dozens of profiles and you haven't liked one person yet."

He sighed and dropped his gaze down at his unfinished waffle, steeling his resolve before bringing his eyes back up to hers.

"I'm perfectly fine with meeting whoever you'd want to meet with," he said. "And I want you to be comfortable with who we choose."

"Thank you," said Regina, thinking the conversation finished she let her eyes drop down to her coffee.

"But…," Robin seriously continued, causing her eyes to drift back up to him in surprise, "we will need to choose eventually." He paused before continuing. "Regina, I know you want the best for our child. You want the best for everyone. It's one of the reasons I love you and one of the reasons I'm comfortable making you the mother of my child."

A smile grew on her face at Robin's words.

"But…" he continued, causing her smile to falter. "These women – these surrogates… they're not products. They're people. They're not going to be perfect. Each woman is going to come with her own set of flaws so you can't keep searching for the best. There is no best. There is just what we can work with and what we can't. Or rather… who."

He added his last amendment with a soft chuckle, still her smile seemed forced as she took in his words.

Regina pressed her lips together as she saw the hint of desperation in his blue eyes. It reminded her that as long as she'd wanted a child Robin had probably been waiting just as long. He was eager to get started and she'd been a bit of a roadblock these past few days. And if they truly were going to be co-parents together she'd have to bend a little more than she was used to.

She sighed before speaking again. "Why don't you send me your top ten options today? I'll look through them, pick the five I like the most and we can set up meetings with them for next weekend."

"Meetings with who?"

A new voiced intruded into their conversation. Regina's pulse quickened as she looked up to find herself staring into the pair of familiar, inquisitive green eyes belonging to Ruby Lucas, Robin's cousin.

"Potential witnesses," Regina immediately replied, the lie slipping off her tongue with practiced ease. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her left ear. Clearing her throat, she fixed her lips into a smile and said a polite greeting. "Good morning Ruby."

Ruby Lucas was the manager of Granny's diner, granddaughter to the titular Granny herself. She was the face of the restaurant. Had been ever since her grandmother's forced semi-retirement five years ago. As cousins she, Robin and his little sister had grown up together under her grandmother's care. Ruby was fun, tough and she could cut through bullshit better than anyone Regina knew. Exactly the type of person you wanted on your side during a rumble.

The brunette just raised an eyebrow at her as she continued to stand near their booth, one hand placed on her hip, the other holding up a pot of coffee and a curious look still on her face.

She moved to refill Robin's coffee while keeping her eyes on Regina. "Potential witnesses? You must have a big case coming up."

Regina shook her head nonchalantly. "Not really. Just some leftover work from last night. Trying to figure out who I can put on the stand."

Ruby narrowed her eyes at her, unsatisfied with the answer she'd received. "So nothing I should worry my pretty little head over?"

"Not at all," Regina innocently replied, ignoring the pointed bite in Ruby's tone.

A brief, awkward moment of silence passed before Robin finally decided to speak up.

"Having a good morning Ruby?" he asked, folding his hands against the booth's table.

She turned to him, a warm smile appearing on her face. "It's the breakfast shift at a diner, Robin. The mornings are never good. Just busy."

"So I remember," he said, his eyes sweeping over the crowded restaurant. "I also remember Granny saying too much business is always better than none."

Ruby let out a soft chuckle as she gave her head a little shake. "That is true. I also remember her telling me to get on your ass about that rocking chair she gave you two weeks ago."

Robin waved her off. "I'm working on it." He tilted his head at her, curiously. "What are you doing here anyway? I thought you didn't work Wednesdays anymore."

"I don't," replied Ruby. "I'm covering a shift for Ashley. Her kid's sick."

"Aww," drawled Robin, his tone turning playful. "Well aren't you just the best boss in the world?"

"That's what it says on the mug in my office," Ruby shot back with a grin. "Besides I didn't mind. Working the Wednesday breakfast shift gives me a chance to catch up with my favorite cousin."

Robin smirked up at her. "I'm telling Belle you said that."

"Like she'd ever believe you," retorted Ruby. She gave him one last smile before stepping back. "I'm at the counter. You can catch up with me once you're done with your date."

"It's not a date," Regina firmly stated, anxiously leaning forward in her seat to finally speak up. Her words went unnoticed as Ruby sauntered back behind the diner counter, not sending so much as one more mischievous glance back in Regina's direction.

Settling back into the booth Regina let out an annoyed sigh and shook her head. Robin took in her reaction and just chuckled. "Just take a deep breath."

"You know the red streaked hair and the dangerously high shorts might be gone but sometimes I'm convinced that she's just as annoying as she was in high school."

While Regina was close with most of Robin's family – had been since she was a child – she and Ruby had more of a rocky history. Regina had never been close with her own family and she'd ended up spending more than most days around Robin and his family in attempt to escape the loneliness she felt at home. Ruby had always seen her as an interloper, crossing into territory where she didn't belong. Things had been tense between them when they were kids but that was in the past. Mostly.

She sighed and rolled her eyes before she noticed Robin intently staring at her from across the table.

"What?" she asked.

Robin shook his head at her. "Nothing, it's just your lie came out pretty smooth back there."

A small smirk grew on her face. "Well I've more than had my fair share of practice Robin, you know that."

She took another sip of her coffee but Robin just continued to study her face. "You know we never did talk about our families and how we would tell them."

His tone was steady and serious. It made her hands go still as she pressed her lips together. "You're nervous about it?" he said.

It was a statement not a question. He'd seen the way she'd flinched when Ruby showed up. The way the blush had risen in her cheeks. She'd been… flustered.

That wasn't normal for her.

Regina nervously wet her lips. "Well you have to admit Robin, what we've chosen is… unconventional to say the least." She stressed the last part of her sentence, as if reminding him that other people didn't normally choose to have children through surrogates with their best friends.

Taking another sip of her coffee she added, "Some people might not understand it."

"And by 'some people' you mean your mother and by 'understand' you mean approve," Robin instantly replied.

He immediately saw the grip on her coffee mug tighten and her spine straighten as she let out a tense breath. "Regina… you will have to tell her at some point."

"I know. It's just…"

She let her sentence trail off as she gave her head a little shake. She closed her eyes to take a deep breath before opening them again and placing a serious look on her face as she stared across the table at Robin.

"Robin, the minute I tell her she will start to poke holes. And she will needle and prod and push me. Telling me how every choice I made is wrong and how I'm ruining my life… again." She bitterly scoffed the last word.

Robin swallowed hard. His knee began to steadily bounce under the table as his anxiety grew. "Are you having seconds thoughts about it?"

"No!" she firmly answered. "I am not having any seconds thoughts. I want to have this baby and I don't care what anyone thinks of our decision. I just… I'm excited. And I'm hopeful. And I want to stay that way. At least for a little while longer."

Her smile reappeared then, big, bright and hopeful. Just like he liked it.

She reached out to grab his hand.

"I promise you I'm not going to change my mind," she said. "But right now our plans – with the surrogate, and the baby, and the future – well, they're just that. Ours. And I'm not ready to have to explain just why we made them to every single person in our lives right now. I just want a little more time in our own protective bubble. Do you understand?"

Robin reluctantly nodded his head. He understood Regina's hesitation to reveal their plans to her family. Her relationship with her sister and mother was complicated at best, hostile at worst. She'd need time to steel her resolve.

"I get it," he assured her. "We can wait until things are more in motion."

She smiled at him appreciatively and gave his hand a tiny squeeze. "Thank you." Stepping out of the booth she slipped her purse over her shoulder. "I have to go to work but I have my copy of the profiles" – she patted the outside of her purse for emphasis – "and I promise I will look through them again during lunch. Maybe add an option or two to the mix."

He smiled up at her. "That would be wonderful."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek to say goodbye and then disappeared through the diner door. Watching from the window he saw her walk down the street, pulling on her blazer, slipping her smartphone from her purse and entering "work mode." He leaned back in his seat with a sigh, his thoughts running rampant in his head.

He didn't stay at the diner for long. After another quick chat with Ruby he pulled on his gray hoodie and decided to head to work. A passing glance at the clock told him that he was late as usual.

As he walked down the street Robin thought about just how much his future had changed in the past few weeks. For most of his life he'd never given it as much as he should've. In his youth, he'd been content to go with the flow. Losing Marian had changed that for him. Once he'd lost the possibility of a future with her he couldn't stop wondering what bleak road lay ahead of him without her. The things they'd planned that would never happen. In the first few months after her death he couldn't imagine going on without her, his future had seemed empty but now… it just didn't. He had something to look forward to. He was going to be a father. Maybe not in the way he originally planned but it was still happening. And he was excited about it. He truly was. He was just… nervous about his partner.

Not about her Regina herself, of course. She was going to make an excellent mother; Robin was sure of that. He just wasn't sure that she was sure. Of him that is.

She'd never said so, of course. In fact, she'd assured him of her commitment numerous times over the past few weeks but ever since they'd started looking for a surrogate she'd started to withdraw. When they looked up profiles, when they'd visited the fertility clinic and talked about what traits they'd like in a surrogate he'd see this look in her eyes. This… hesitation. She tried to hide it but he could still tell. He always could with her.

When it came to choosing their potential surrogate it almost seemed as if she was dragging her feet. Robin didn't want to doubt her but her attitude had put him a bit on edge.

What if she wanted to back out of their arrangement?

Robin didn't think that was where she headed but he couldn't be sure. The inner workings of her mind were an enigma. Even to him.

He tried to push thoughts of Regina out of his head as he walked into the firehouse. As he stepped onto the cement driveway and into the garage he found himself regaining his peace of mind. As soon as the familiar smell of old hoses and rubber tires hit his nose he felt himself grow calmer. Her was at work, he was in his element. Any drama or complications from the outside world didn't make it past those garage doors. His personal life couldn't touch him here. Maybe a day at work would give him something else to fret over, like a small gas leak or a grease fire.

"Locksely!"

Or a meeting with his angry sounding boss.

The minute he stepped inside he heard his name yelled from above his head. He looked up to see his red-faced boss, Leroy Burkes, staring down at him from the next floor.

"In my office. Now!" he ordered in his gruff voice, before disappearing back into his office.

Robin groaned under his breath before muttering, "Yes captain."

Leroy Burkes was a portly, red-faced, short-tempered man. He took no crap, he had no patience and he'd been fire department's captain for more than 20 years. While Robin wouldn't spend his weekends with the man he certainly carried respect for him. Even if he didn't seem to understand that speaking and yelling were two different things.

By the time Robin got to the office Leroy was already sitting expectantly behind his desk, the golden captain's badge shining against his stark white button-up shirt. Like always there was an annoyed look in his eyes and a frown on his face. On some days, when they were excessively bored, Robin and the other members of his crew would wonder aloud just when exactly they'd shown up. Did they appear during adulthood or was he just raised into a very annoyed, frowny child?

"You call me in here because I'm late again?" asked Robin.

Leroy sent him an annoyed look. "Locksely if I wasted time giving a damn when you showed up, I'd be late as you are."

"Right," sighed Robin, sitting down across from his desk. "So what is this about? Don't tell me it's that time of the year again?"

"You know it is," deadpanned Leroy.

He silently opened his drawer, pulled out a thin book and dropped it on the desk. Fire Lieutenant's Study Guide. Robin let out an annoyed groan when he read its title. It was the fifth time he'd had that book dropped in front of him. His response remained unchanged.

"I don't need that," he immediately said.

"Yes you do."

"No I don't," he refused. "I've told you before I like where I am."

"When have I ever cared what you liked?" Leroy gruffly replied, causing Robin to snicker. "You've been here ten years Locksely. It's time."

"I'm fine where I am. I'm good with the team," asserted Robin. "There's no reason for me to climb up the ladder."

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?"

Robin smirked at him. "Why because I don't want to sit behind this desk one day?"

"You're damn right that's why," snarled Leroy. "Locksely I've run this place for more than 20 years. How the hell am I supposed to retire when I'm not sure it'll be in good hands when I go?"

"And why do those hands have to be mine?"

"Because you're the best I've ever trained," Leroy said seriously. "The crew respects you. The community trusts you. You know this place in and out."

Robin just rolled his eyes. Leroy had been the lieutenant's position on him for years now even though he'd made it clear that he had no interest in leadership. He didn't want to sit behind a desk and come up with the plans, he just wanted to execute them in the field. It's where he worked best and it was where he could take care of his team.

"You're made for this Locksely and you know it."

"I'm made to be part of team," Robin insisted. "I like being in the fire with my crew. I have no desire to call the shots."

"Good leaders aren't created out of desire. They're created out of necessity."

"That's a nice sentiment," replied Robin. "Who said it? FDR? Lincoln?"

"Origin unknown," Leroy flatly answered, a permanent frown on his face. He leaned back in his seat causing the glare against his bald spot to shift. He scowled at Robin from across the desk. "You're really gonna walk away again?"

Robin nodded his head as he stood from his seat. "Yep. Same as always."

Leroy disapprovingly shook his head. "At this rate I'm never gonna retire," he grumbled, tossing the book back into his drawer. He pointed a determined finger in Robin's direction. "One day, Locksely, I swear I'm gonna get you to take some responsibility around here."

Robin chuckled as he made his way out of the office. "I wouldn't bet on that captain," he tossed over his shoulder.

And he really wouldn't. Robin loved being a firefighter and he loved his coworkers but not even a fancy title and pay raise could tempt him into putting on that white lieutenant's shirt. Authority wasn't something he wore well. Besides, there was enough change in his life for the moment.

XXXXXXX

In Regina's opinion, the Storybrooke Courthouse wasn't what she'd call impressive. Sure, it was historic, built long before she, or her mother, or her mother's mother was even born. Sure, the white stone pillars on the building's exterior added a level of grandeur that went unmatched by any other government-owned building in town. And sure, the wide hardwood staircase leading up to the second floor looked beautiful at the peak of eleven when the sun was at just the right angle to bring out an almost angelic gleam from its expertly waxed floors. Of course, the courthouse was a beautiful place, it just wasn't impressive. Not to her.

Regina had been coming here ever since she was a little girl by her father's side, the top of her head barely going higher than his hip. He'd always used to take her to work with him. She remembered spending so many mornings in city hall, at the mayor's office, coloring at the little pink play desk he'd set only a foot away from his real one. When lunch time had rolled around and she'd finally gotten restless he'd always grab her by the hand and walk her down the street to the courthouse where they'd buy hotdogs from the vendor out front and eat them inside, on the bench in front of the oil portrait of her grandfather Judge Xavier Mills.

The portrait she still chose to sit under even decades later.

The wooden bench hadn't been moved or replaced since she was a child. It still resided against the wall in the corner of the second floor hallway. And the portrait of her grandfather still hung above it, the painted look in his brown eyes as stern and superior as ever. That combined with the black judge's robe he wore and the gavel he held in his hand gave anyone who walked passed the painting the distinct feeling that they were on trial, whether it was their day in court or not. The plaque beneath his countenance listed his name, year of birth and death. Regina had never met her grandfather and she'd never been particularly fond of his portrait. As a child, and even now as an adult, she found the painted look in her grandfather's eyes full of judgment and condemnation. She often wondered if the same was true for his real eyes, or if the painter had taken a bit of artistic license given her grandfather's occupation. Given the stories she'd heard she felt the former possibility to be more likely.

Even so she couldn't imagine sitting anywhere else on a day she was forced to spend in the courthouse. This bench was her bench. And the portrait above it her portrait. Hers and her father's.

Regina rested her chin against her hand as she sat on the bench with her elbow rested against its armrest. Her eyes were blank as she retreated into her mind, losing sight of her own surroundings.

She'd just gotten out of court and it had gone very well. She'd nailed the defendant, a college student with the unusual hobby of breaking into stranger's homes and then pawning their valuables. Given his repeated offenses she'd hardly broken a sweat convincing the judge to give him the full sentence for his crimes. No matter how small a victory it was it'd felt good to have a win in her pocket. She'd needed it after what had happened with the Samuels case. She'd seen Dina's kids that morning before they'd climbed into a cab with their social worker and headed to the airport. Luckily they'd been able to find some family for them. The kids were going to live with their mother's cousin out in California. Regina had spoken to her over the phone the week before. She'd sounded nice.

Saying goodbye to those children had been harder than she'd imagined. She wasn't particularly attached to them but she couldn't help feeling as though she should've been able to do more for their situation. Their mother had been murdered by their stepfather and her office had allowed him to get away with little more than a slap on the wrist (at least in her book).

It still made her blood boil to think of it. In her head she knew that it wasn't her fault. That she'd done as much as any person in her position could do. But knowing that it wasn't nearly enough ate away at her insides. The oldest girl had barely turned twelve and the youngest, a little boy, was just about to turn five. Not nearly old enough to handle or deserve half the trauma they now had to handle. Those poor kids. Their entire lives had been turned around all because their mother made one bad decision that she couldn't undo.

In a way thinking of Dina and her mistakes made her more optimistic about her own decision regarding children. At least she knew that Robin would be a good father. She couldn't imagine him being anything other than amazing with their child. And even though they weren't "together" she was still confident they'd make good parents for their baby. Together they'd make the right choices.

Speaking of…

The binder of potential surrogates was still burning a hole in her purse. As she sat the bag on her lap she could practically hear it thrumming from the confines of its plush leather prison, just begging her to pick it up and give it another look. It took everything in her to resist giving into the urge. It wasn't wise to do such a thing in the courthouse. Too many prying, curious eyes. (And that included the ones in her grandfather's portrait.)

No, she'd save that task for a moment when she had more privacy. Not that the privacy would bring her any closer to a decision.

She couldn't help but wonder why, if she was so on board with having a child with Robin, was she faltering so hard when it came to picking a surrogate?

It wasn't as if she hadn't realized how she was acting. Turning down every profile Robin dared to send her way, looking over every woman with practically federal scrutiny. It was ridiculous. Even so she couldn't stop if she tried. Robin had said that no matter what each potential surrogate came with their own set flaws, and sure he might be right, but even then she still couldn't imagine relaxing her standards. Not for a decision this important.

The woman was going to be carrying her child for god's sake! It's not as if a bit of scrutiny was unwarranted. It was rational, a good thing even. She just wasn't sure it was coming from a good place.

"How was court?"

Breaking out of her trance Regina turned her head just in time to see Mal, two coffee cups in her hand, taking a seat next to her on the bench. With everything on her mind she'd forgotten that Mal had been working a few of her own cases that morning.

Mal passed her a hot cup as she softly mumbled, "He's going away for ten years. Obviously, there's a chance of parole but you can't have everything, right?"

A smirk tugged on Mal's lips as she removed the lid from her own coffee cup. "Another win for Regina Mills. How unexpected."

Regina softly scoffed at Mal's sarcasm. Regina had always been a stellar lawyer. Clear, concise, persuasive. Arguing was her bread and butter. There were few people who were better at it than she was. She'd done mock trials all through high school. Accepted into Columbia University on an accelerated track. Achieved her law and bachelor's degree simultaneously in five years. Graduated at the top of her class with job offers coming left and right.

Sometimes, when she was in the mood for self-pity, she would think on how surprising it was that with all that going for her she'd ended up right back in the same town she'd sworn to escape. Working under the same person who'd made her want to run. But shockingly that issue no longer captured her attention as much as it used to.

Her hypothetical child with Robin now took priority.

Removing the lid from her coffee cup, Regina took a sip and immediately twisted her lips up in disgust. Ugh, chamomile tea. She'd forgotten that Mal had become a tea drinker in recent years. Regina was more of a coffee gal herself. Lattes and cappuccinos were what got her through the day. Not that she'd ever let Mal know.

Every time she and Mal had coinciding court dates Mal would always meet her afterwards at the bench on the second floor. And every time she'd bring Regina a hot cup of tea that she'd bought along with her own. She'd been doing it ever since Regina had first started working there, when she'd been fragile from Daniel's death and unsure of her decision to work under her mother. The first time it happened it had struck Regina as more than a little strange. Even though they'd been friends the Mal she'd known in high school had only been interested in taking care of herself. She cared with words but not actions. But when she'd brought that first cup of tea Regina couldn't believe just how maternal that action had come off. It was then that she'd took notice of Mal's behavior around her. Those few first months she'd been more of a presence than anyone in the office. Checking in and protecting her in her own subtle way. Inviting her to lunches to make sure she ate. Asking to do work in her office under the pretense of a faulty air conditioner just to make sure she hadn't been overwhelmed by her case load. Only when Regina started paying attention did she realize just how much Mal had been taking care of her. Probably in ways that even Mal herself didn't realize. It was then that Regina finally understood just how much becoming a mother had subtly changed her old friend.

Forcing herself to take another sip of the unappealing tea, Regina wondered how having a child would alter her own instincts.

"So how is Lily?" she found herself asking.

Mal turned to her a flash of surprise came across her blue eyes. Her lips pulled into a bright smile as she replied, "She's wonderful." After a moment, she proudly added, "She got first place in her science fair at school."

"Really?!" drawled Regina, pleasantly surprised. "What was her project?"

"A model of the solar system, where the planets spun at the same rate as they do in actual space," Mal answered, spinning her finger in the air to illustrate the project.

"That's very impressive for her age," commented Regina. "Did you help her with it?"

"God no!" chuckled Mal. "Science was never a strong area for me. You know that."

Regina let out a soft laugh as she nodded her head in agreement. "Oh yes, your senior year lab fire has burned little fact straight into my memory."

Mal put up her pointer finger in a gesture of disagreement. "To be fair, that fire happened because I was smoking in the lab not working in it."

Her tone was stern but she couldn't help the small giggles that accompanied her words.

As their laughter subsided, Mal sighed and asked, "So how are you and Robin doing on your… little project?"

Yet again Regina heard the thrum of the binder sitting in her purse. She took another sip of her disgusting tea before answering, "It's going well enough."

Mal raised an eyebrow at her. "Well enough?"

Regina nodded her head noncommittally. "We're moving forward together and health-wise things are looking fine."

"And what about the non-health wise things?" interrogated Mal.

Regina hesitated before answering her. Despite how much she hated this damn tea she was happy for its presence. Drinking it was buying her time. Avoiding Mal's gaze she took another gulp before softly responding, "We may have hit a small roadblock."

"Concerning what?"

Regina apprehensively licked her lips before leaning in and conspiratorially whispering, "Choosing our surrogate."

Mal nodded her head understandingly. "I see."

She offered no more reaction than that. Not shock or disbelief or judgment. She simply nodded her head, turned back to her tea and took a sip before asking, "How long have you been looking?"

"Two weeks," Regina answered in a business-like tone. Her eyes dropped down to her shoes and she tapped the side of her cup adding, "He thinks I'm being hypercritical."

"Are you?"

Regina pursed her lips and clenched her jaw. "Perhaps a little," she softly admitted.

Mal offered her no response. Instead she just sat beside her silently, sipping her tea and letting Regina stew in her own uncertainty.

Regina knew that even though she'd become more maternal over the years Mal still wasn't one to offer up unsolicited advice when it came to serious things like this. If you wanted her opinion you had to ask for it.

Bringing her eyes back up to Mal's face she hesitantly asked, "How did you decide? With Lily?"

Mal looked over at her and scoffed. "You don't want to ask me that."

Regina's head reared back in surprise. "Why not?"

"Because it's not the same," she firmly declared. "When I was planning to have Lily I was simply looking for DNA, nothing else."

Her eyes dropped down to the tea in her hands. "When I was picking a donor I was doing it with the knowledge that they wouldn't have anything to do with Lily. I felt like I didn't need to know as many details about him because I wasn't putting myself in a position where I would ever need to trust him."

She brought her eyes back up to Regina's face. "But you are and that's why you're freaking out about it."

Same as always her friend's words hit her like an arrow through the chest. Regina pursed her lips and averted her eyes from Mal's unwavering gaze. "It's just… more difficult than I want it to be. Choosing, I mean."

Mal nodded her head understandingly. "That's because you give a damn. But don't worry. For a mother that's a good thing."

She ended her sentence with a knowing smile and Regina felt herself relax at the sight of it. At least a little. Even though she was being hypercritical at least now she knew she wasn't crazy to be so.

She sighed as she leaned back in her seat and let the back of her head fall against the wall. "I honestly don't know how men do this," she said softly. "How do you pick a woman you trust to carry your child?"

"Well most of them try this new invention called 'dating'," replied Mal. "I hear it's quite helpful in narrowing down the pack."

Regina chuckled at her sarcasm. "Thank you Mal. Your sarcasm is much appreciated."

"Always is."

"But you're right," conceded Regina. "If I'm going to let another woman carry my child then I'm going to have to trust her." She sighed and shook her head. "I just don't see how I'm supposed to do that based on a short profile and a one-hour meeting."

"Well what's Robin's take on the whole process?" Mal asked curiously.

Regina rolled her eyes before replying, "He says he's just going to trust his gut."

Mal scoffed before mirroring Regina's eye roll. "Wow."

"Right?!" said Regina with a smirk. "Granted, Robin has the most dependable gut I've ever seen but given what we're dealing with I wish he'd use more than his intestines to make a decision."

"I get it," said Mal. "Decisions like this are tough. Even if you have a partner to make it with."

Regina nodded her head solemnly. Over the past few weeks it had run through her head that the next few decisions that she was making with Robin would be some of the most important ones of her life. In that aspect, she was grateful to have him by her side. Him and his dependable gut.

"You know in a way I suppose I feel just like he must've felt when he thought about doing this on his own. He considered using an anonymous donor."

"Why'd he change his mind?" Mal asked.

Regina paused before answering her. "He said when he looked at their faces all he saw were question marks. And he didn't want to risk looking at his child and feeling the same way. He said he'd rather see half of me than a stranger. He felt more comfortable with someone he knew."

Mal shifted uncomfortably in her seat before saying, "Well you realize that you have the same option that he had?"

Regina scoffed, sending her a doubtful look. "You can't possibly be suggesting that I ask someone I know to do this?"

Even though she had her doubts about choosing a surrogate Regina knew she'd never dare to ask someone she knew. Hell, it's not as if there was particularly long list of candidates anyway. God forbid she ask such a huge favor from a friend or, even worse, her sister. Ugh. She shuddered at the thought.

"Oh god no," said Mal, shaking her head. "I mean, why not just carry the baby yourself?"

Regina's gut clenched as a guilty shiver went down her spine. She swallowed hard before briskly stating, "That's not an option."

"Why not?" questioned Mal. "Less than two months ago you said you were still able to get pregnant and it's not like it'll keep you from doing your job. If you're worried about pregnancy, I promise you it's not always the horror show that women make it out to be."

"That's not it Mal," said Regina shaking her head. "I just decided that being pregnant is not something that I want."

Mal was now staring at her intently, curiosity and confusion blazing in her blue eyes. "Why not?"

Regina ran her thumb over the place where she'd once wore Daniel's ring.

"It's complicated," she whispered.

XXXXXX

Seven years ago Teddy Miller was an unremarkable man. In his late forties. Moderately well off. Unmarried with no children. Seemed to head to work and head home without much in between. He lived a life that was unremarkable in every way. Things didn't change for him until a summer's night seven years ago when one poorly put out cigarette had rolled off his downstairs desk and into a trash bin sparking one of the worst fires Robin had ever worked on.

Due to faulty fire alarms by the time Teddy had woken up and called the fire department the lowest floor of his house had already been engulfed in flames, trapping him upstairs. His house perished in the fire but thanks to the work of the fire department Teddy survived with his life and health firmly intact. He'd also escaped with a new outlook on life.

As soon as the insurance check cleared good ol' Teddy left town to do every remarkable thing he'd denied himself before. Since then he'd gone on to travel the world performing daring stunts, sleeping with beautiful women all while documenting it on his inexplicably popular YouTube channel. However, just before skipping town Teddy stopped by the firehouse to express his gratitude in the form of a massive check.

Word of the check spread quickly and for the next week the entire department entered a long and arduous debate of just what to spend it on. Though kept up to code, the firehouse amenities hadn't been updated in decades. And with a check that large the possibilities were nearly endless. After days of bartering and bargaining the matter was finally settled with the construction of the Teddy Miller Firehouse Basketball Court.

Built in the back of the firehouse the court was a godsend. Perfect for curing the restlessness that came with spending 12+ hours inside a building where you share space with two firetrucks and five other men. It was a good investment and the guys loved it. A lot of frustration had been worked out on that black top.

Robin ought to know. He was currently working out a little frustration of his own.

Not long after arriving at the fire station and having it out with his boss Robin was pulled onto the black top and into a one-on-one game with Emma. On the plus side the physical energy he was exerting helped blow off the steam that came with obsessing over the surrogacy issue. On the minus side it probably isn't the best idea to run up and down a court after you've eaten two Belgian waffles covered in whipped cream and syrup. Barely 30 minutes in and Emma was thoroughly beating his ass.

Robin let out another groan as Emma sent another flawless shot from the three-point line, whooping as it sailed over his head and into the basket.

"That makes it what? 10-8 me?" she gloated.

"It's 11-8 and you know it," he panted, hands on his knees. Cardio had never really been his strong suit.

Emma breathlessly laughed at him as she ran after the basketball. "C'mon Robin. You're playing like an old man."

"I am an old man," he shot back. When she threw a skeptical look over her shoulder he added, "On the inside at least."

"Ha!" Will's laughter came from the side of the court where he sat, bag of chips in hand as he watched them run up and down the court. "Be careful who you smack talk Swan. You might be offending our future boss."

Robin rolled his eyes as he straightened up. "I'll tell you what I told the captain. I have no interest in wearing a white shirt and badge."

"For now," Emma added smugly, running up with the basketball. "Just wait until your kid is born. Pretty soon that pay raise and eight-a-day starts looking pretty good."

"Is that so?" challenged Robin, raising his eyebrows at her. "You have a kid and I don't see you lining up to be the lieutenant around here."

"My situation is different," replied Emma. She tucked the basketball under her arm showing off the before continuing in a business-like manner. "I only have Liam for four days a week so the 12 hours a day, 3 days a week schedule works best for me. On the days I'm off he can have my full attention. And on the days that I'm here… he spends time with his father." Her eyes dropped down to the black top. "It's almost like he doesn't even realize I'm gone."

Her green eyes pulled back into that guilty, far off look that she always had when she talked about the father of her child and their complicated custody arrangement. She rapidly blinked and pulled herself back into reality.

"It's the perfect system for us. But I assume you and Regina will have something different set up for when the baby comes."

"If the baby comes," corrected Robin. "And we haven't exactly reached that level of planning yet." He gestured toward the bench. "Water break?"

"Sure," she mumbled, walking toward the sidelines.

Will grinned at him. "I still can't believe you she agreed to have a baby with you. Your persuasion skills must be through the roof."

Robin nervously looked over his shoulder. "Would you mind keeping it down? We're not exactly telling people yet."

Will shrugged his shoulders. "I suspected as much seeing as how Belle hasn't talked to me about it yet."

"We're just waiting until things are more in motion before we start letting people in on our plans," explained Robin.

Will firmly nodded his head. "Understood."

"What did you mean 'if?'" Emma was staring at him, a thoughtful look in her eyes as she twisted the cap off a water bottle.

Robin turned to her. "What?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Earlier I said when the baby comes you corrected me and said if the baby comes. What is that about?"

Her tone was equal parts accusing and curious. It immediately sparked Robin's need to deflect.

"It's just a word choice," he said shrugging his shoulders.

"A very telling one," mumbled Will.

Robin glared at him while Emma continued to stare him down.

"Are you guys having some issues?" she asked.

"No," he said, firmly staring her in the eyes.

She shook her head at him with a smirk on her face. "You are a goddamn liar."

Shit.

Everyone around the firehouse knew that Emma had an almost supernatural ability to spot a lie. If you stole her food from the fridge she'd know. If you were skipping a shift for bogus reasons she knew. And if you were hiding personal troubles behind a shrug and smile she could tell. The woman was a human lie detector.

Placing her hands on her hips she gave him an expectant look. "What's the problem?"

Robin sighed and rolled his eyes. He could even see Will leaning forward with an intrigued look on his face. Just great.

"Nothing's wrong… exactly. We're just –" He stumbled over his explanation. "We've just started looking for surrogates and we're not really on the same page."

"Oh," drawled Emma, her eyes widening in surprise. "That is… not what I was expecting."

Robin narrowed his eyes at her. "And just what were you expecting?"

Emma helplessly shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Scheduling. Or doctor stuff. Not surrogate choices. I didn't even think you would still be doing that."

"Yeah," Will chimed in. "Swan and I just figured that since you and Regina would be parenting the little nugget together that she'd just… take care of that herself." He ended his sentence by awkwardly gesturing to his middle in a circular motion.

"Well she isn't," said Robin. "We talked it over, Regina said that she didn't want to carry our child and we decided that using an agency surrogate was the best choice for us."

"Why?" questioned Will.

"Why what?"

"Why doesn't she want to carry the baby herself?" he elaborated.

"Probably because pregnancy is hell!" commented Emma, with a wild look in her eye. "I do not blame her for wanting to skip it."

Will rolled his eyes. "Oh come on Swan. It's nature. It's a beautiful process that allows the survival of our species."

"'It's a beautiful process.' 'It nature,'" Emma repeated mockingly. "I swear to god that is shit that only a man could say. Pregnancy isn't beautiful. You know what pregnancy is? It's swollen feet. It's nausea. It's vomiting and mood swings and cravings. Not to mention the stretchmarks, aches and pains that come with the having your stomach swell out to the size of a basketball!"

She ended her rant by tossing the orange ball at his chest, causing him to spill his chips.

"Believe me if I'd had the foresight and spare income to pay someone else to carry my kid I would've," she finished.

"Spare income?" said Will, struggling with the chips and basketball now in his arms. "How much does something like this even cost?"

Robin hesitated before responding to him. "I'm not going to lie. It's a pretty decent chunk of money."

"A decent chunk like a down payment on a car?" mused Will. "Or a decent chunk like a down payment on a castle?"

Robin tilted his head from side to side thinking it over. "A decent chunk like if I wasn't using the money to have the baby I could be using it to send the baby to college."

Will widened his eyes and let out an impressed whistle. "Wow."

"And you can afford to pay that much?" Emma said skeptically.

Robin folded his arms across his chest. He'd never been fond of talking about money, his or anyone else's. It would never cease to make him uncomfortable.

"Look," he said, making his tone firm and clear, "the most I am going to say is that before they died my parents apparently made some very smart investments that my sister and I happened to inherit once we were of age. I am not going to elaborate further than that."

Frankly, there wasn't much else to say about it. Of course, it had come as a shock when Granny had pulled him aside after his eighteenth birthday and revealed just how much his parents had left behind for him and Belle. It was certainly more than he expected but it wasn't as if he was fabulously wealthy. He couldn't live off the money for the rest of his life and he had no desire to. Instead he'd stored it away for a rainy day and, obviously, that rainy day had finally arrived.

"So you can afford it?" Emma repeated.

Robin nodded his head. "Yes," he sighed. "Especially now that Regina will be covering half the cost."

"And see that's just what I don't understand," said Will shaking his head. "Now I've only met her a few times but Regina seems like a practical woman. Very level headed and smart. Why would a woman that practical spend that much money just to avoid carrying her own child?"

"Well it's not like it's such a hardship for her," said Emma. "She's a Mills. It's not like she's hurting for money."

Robin clenched his jaw in annoyance. He always hated when people reduced Regina to her family name, and wealth. The Mills were one of Storybrooke's oldest families. They could trace their lineage back to the Mayflower. And their money even further. For hundreds of years Storybrooke had always had a Mills in a position of power. Mayors, councilmen, judges. They were practically a monarchy. Robin knew it was a reputation that had always weighed heavily on Regina's shoulders. In many ways, she worked hard to live up to that name. And in other ways she'd tried very hard to escape it. She'd always strived to more than just "that Mills girl." And Robin didn't like anyone defining her that way.

"It's not about comfort or money," declared Robin, his tone harsh and rough. "There's a deeper reason that that."

A moment of silence passed as both Will and Emma stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate further.

"And that reason is what?" questioned Emma, breaking the silence.

"I don't know," Robin replied pitifully. He sighed and shook his head. "She hasn't talked to me about it."

"Well have you asked her?" said Emma.

"No," Robin said firmly. When Emma sent him a disapproving look he raised his hand to stop her. "Look, I know everyone looks at her and sees this smart, level-headed person but honestly, she probably feels more in day than most people feel in a month. She's… complex and if you don't know her she's damn near impossible to understand." He paused. "I've known her twenty plus years she still manages to trip me up every once in a while. But one thing has always remained true: nothing good comes from pushing her. If there's another reason she doesn't want to carry this baby she'll share it with me when she's ready. Until then I'll respect her wishes."

"Alright, alright," said Will. "I get it. Her decision-making process is complicated. I am, however, still left with one question."

Robin rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What, Will?"

Will stared him down. "If she did want to carry the baby, would you let her?"

Robin hesitated before answering. Both Emma and Will stared him down, practically on the edge of their seats as they waited for him to answer. It was a loaded question and he knew whatever answer he gave they would jump to conclusions. In the end he squared his shoulders and firmly replied, "Yes. If Regina wanted to carry the baby… I would let her."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Regina had always been a wanderer. It was one of those childhood habits that she'd never grown out of.

She enjoyed aimless walks and pointless car rides. They cleared her head and allowed her to think. Which was just what she needed to do after her talk with Mal.

After getting through court that afternoon she decided to talk a walk. She wasn't needed back in the office and the park was nearby anyway.

It was late October and gorgeous outside. The tree leaves were shades of orange and yellow. The winds carried a sharp chilling bite, making her button another loop on her thin jacket. Not that she minded. She always preferred the cold to the heat. It was easier to adjust to. Folding her arms across her chest for warmth she ambled down the sidewalk, retreating further into her mind with each step she took.

Why not just carry the baby yourself?

Those words had been repeating in her head for the last three hours and she couldn't figure out why. It was just a question. One that she was struggling so hard to answer. She didn't want to carry the baby because… her mind went blank. Like it did every time she'd tried to finish that sentence.

It made no sense. She and Robin had talked about this weeks ago. They would be using a surrogate. It was best. They agreed. She agreed.

Why had she agreed?

There were obvious advantages to the arrangement. There were less risks that came with having a younger woman carry the baby. Pregnancy wasn't exactly the most pleasant experience. Avoiding it could be seen as a blessing. Not to mention if she wasn't pregnant herself it would buy her more time to figure out a way to explain it to her family.

These were all very good reasons to not carry the baby herself. But they weren't the reason. She didn't know what the reason was.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't notice the cyclist barreling toward her viciously ringing his annoying little bell. At the last second she hopped out of the way before he sideswiped her on his way past, throwing her a dirty look as he rode away. Gritting her teeth and sending him a glare of her own she debated tossing him the finger as well before she realized where she was.

She was at the pond.

The pond in the park.

The surface of the water shimmered as the wind blew over it, causing small waves to lap at the decorative rocks that surrounded the edge. She stood on the center of the bridge that crossed over the narrowest part of the pond.

The realization of where she was made a brick drop in her stomach.

This where he had proposed to her.

Daniel.

The memory of it washed over her like a bucket of cold water. Him, down on one knee, the flakes of an early spring snow beginning to fall into his dark hair as he presented her a small modest gold ring. Her, staring down at him, with her gut twisting because she hadn't wanted to break his heart.

Once again her finger brushed over the spot where her wedding ring had been.

The fact that she was here made everything so clear.

It was Daniel. He was the reason.

Feeling her knees grow a bit weak she reached out to grab the bridge's iron railing. As she let out a slow shaky breath another memory began to play behind her closed eyes. Her and Daniel in that crappy Brooklyn apartment they'd rented, lying in bed together. Only two weeks after the doctor's diagnosis. His arms had been around her and she'd been stroking her thumb across his cheek to comfort him. It was the day they'd chosen to adopt. Lying there in his arms she'd promised him that no matter how much she wanted to carry a child, she only wanted to carry a child that was his and no one else's. And if she couldn't have that then she'd rather not be pregnant at all.

And she'd meant it. She'd really meant it… then.

But now… now Daniel was gone and the truth was that she did want to carry her child with Robin. She wanted to be the one to have the cravings, and feel the kicks and grow her baby's life inside of her. She wanted it. She didn't want to want it but she did.

But even if Daniel was gone her promise still remained. And that's why she'd agreed to the surrogate.

Tears fell down her cheek as she realized just how much guilt she'd been carrying about having a baby without him.

"Well look who it is," said a cheerful voice.

Her black hair blowing in the wind, Regina turned to see a stout old woman with silver grey hair, copper-rimmed spectacles and a cane. She quickly swallowed her guilt and forced a smile on her face.

"Oh hello Granny," she said in surprise.

There was no woman on Earth that Regina respected more than Eugenia "Granny" Lucas. The definition of a force to be reckoned with Granny had been Regina's nanny from when she was a baby to when she entered middle school. She'd baked her cookies when she wanted them and knocked sense into her when she needed it. And the fact that she was the reason Regina even met Robin made her extra grateful for her existence.

Regina tried to subtly wipe away her tears but Granny wasn't fooled. The crow's feet around her eyes crinkled as she adjusted her glasses and narrowed her eyes at the younger woman's cheeks.

"What's with the water works darling?" she asked.

Regina forced a smile to stay on her face as she waved off Granny's concern. "Nothing," she lied. "It's just a bit chilly out. The wind is getting in my eyes."

She wrapped her arms around herself for emphasis hoping it would be enough to deter an interrogation from her former nanny.

She should've known better.

For three seconds Granny silently stared her down. Her gaze being twice as chilling as the wind Regina had blamed for her chills. It was as if she could feel the old woman skulking around her soul, relentlessly searching for the source of her pain so she could board it up. She pulled her smile tighter, as if it would help.

The moment passed after a visible shiver ran down Granny's spine. With the one hand that wasn't resting on the top of her aluminum cane she pulled her cardigan tighter. "Well you're right about that. It is a little chilly out."

She looped her own arm around Regina's and gently patted her on the arm. "Why don't you help me to the nearest bench and we can sit and chat for a while?" she said warmly. "It's been too long. Don't you think?"

Regina nodded her head. "Of course."

She set her hand over Granny's and began guiding her to the other side of the bridge. As they walked she took in her appearance and frowned. Her former nanny was hardly dressed for the weather. The lace trim of her thin, floral-patterned dress fluttered in the wind and her blue cotton cardigan hardly seemed like it was helping. Regina considered taking off her own jacket and forcing it on Granny's shoulders but she doubted it would do much good. Granny had always been a stout woman while Regina herself ran on the thin side. Besides, Granny would never allow such an act. She was still spry in her old age and determined to prove so to anyone who said differently.

Still…

"Granny, you really should be wearing a coat in this weather," Regina said sternly. "You'll catch your death in these winds."

Granny rolled her eyes with practically teenage ease and waved off her concerns. "Oh please," she said. "A chill in these old bones is good for someone my age. It reminds me I'm alive."

Strands of her silver hair shook as she chuckled at her own audacity but Regina continued to give her a stern look.

"At least bring a scarf next time," she ordered as they took a seat on a nearby bench.

"Oh fine, fine," grumbled Granny. She sighed as she lowered herself onto the bench. "You know there was once a time when I was forcing you to put on your jacket."

"I remember," said Regina with a smirk. "It's why I'm telling you to do the same now. You always did say it was polite to return favors."

Again, Granny rolled her eyes. "I hate when you kids use my words against me." She sighed and paused for a moment. "Did you have work today?" she asked.

"I have work every day," sighed Regina, with exaggerated exasperation. "It's going well though. I'm helping put away bad guys left and right."

"Good girl," praised Granny, a proud smile on her face. "You know of all my grandkids you were always the smartest."

For a moment Regina basked in her praise until Granny sent her a knowing smile and added, "But you were also the worst at hiding when something was bothering you."

Regina felt her heart clench at Granny's words. For a moment, she was stunned into silence. Granny had always had a way of seeing through her at the worst possible moments.

Like a deer caught in headlights she didn't know what to say. She settled for reminding her, "You know I'm not actually your granddaughter Eugenia."

Granny only chuckled and shrugged her shoulder. "Maybe not by blood," she admitted. "But in other ways, the ways that matter, you couldn't be more mine. And I will always be able to tell when something's bothering you. Now are you going to tell me what it is?"

"Granny…"

"And don't you dare lie to me."

Granny's voice went firm and strict. She stared down Regina with a harsh look in her eye that screamed she wasn't messing around. Suddenly Regina felt like she was eight years old again, standing in the park in her ripped dress, trying to avoid her nanny's gaze as she tried to explain why she'd gotten into a fist fight with two little boys.

She bit her lip and gave her head a tiny shake. "It's complicated…" she mumbled, lowering her voice.

"Whatever it is I promise you I've heard and probably done worst," Granny assured her. "It's not a man, is it? Because if it is I swear I will get my shotgun."

Her playful threat brought out a small chuckle from Regina. She shook her head. "Well it is a man but in this case I don't think a shot gun is gonna do much damage."

Granny's face softened. "Daniel?"

Regina's gut twisted with guilt when she heard his name aloud. She couldn't even speak. She just silently nodded her head.

"Oh honey." In an instant Granny wrapped a sympathetic arm around her. With it came an immediate comfort that only a grandmother could provide.

"What brought this on?" she asked.

"Like I said… it's complicated. Too complicated to talk about," stalled Regina, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. It wasn't just that she couldn't explain what was happening to Granny. It was also that she wasn't sure she wanted to. Over the years she'd spoken with Granny about many awkward topics but even she had to admit "I'm debating whether or not to let your great-nephew knock me up out of wedlock and it feels like I'm betraying my dead husband" pretty much took the cake. She contemplated fabricating an emergency or appointment in order to make a hasty escape but Granny sent her a stern look, signaling that she wouldn't be leaving this bench until she came clean.

Regina sighed before cryptically speaking, "When Daniel was alive there was… something I always wanted to do with him. And… for reasons I am unwilling to speak of… it always seemed… just out of reach for us. And I promised him that I would never want do that thing unless I could do it with him. And I meant it. I really did… but now… I have this opportunity to do this one thing that I've always wanted but without him here for it… I just feel…"

"You feel guilty for wanting it," Granny finished for her, a twinge of sadness in her voice.

Regina remained silent. Her eyes had grown hot and itchy when she'd spoken. She blinked them twice to hold back the tears they threatened to spill.

Granny pulled her closer and affectionately tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a move that brought back so many memories of comfort and wiped away tears.

"Oh Regina," she said softly.

"I just… I feel selfish," she admitted. "Like I'm betraying him somehow."

"Well that's just not true," said Granny. "It's not a betrayal to be happy."

"But-"

"No excuses!" said Granny cutting her off. She shook her head with a fierce look in her eyes. "Regina you have such a big heart, why are you always struggling to make room in it for yourself?"

Regina swallowed hard. "I don't know," she said shrugging her shoulders. "It's just hasn't been a priority."

"Well make it one," Granny ordered. "The person who has the most control over your own happiness is you. I thought you learned that lesson with Daniel, in the first place?"

Regina helplessly threw up her hand and offended squeak coming out of her throat. "I did… it's just… this is different."

"Doesn't seem like it to me," said Granny. "It seems like you're doing what you always used to do. Letting yourself be miserable because you think it might make someone else happy. B ut honey, I'm gonna let you in a little secret: the dead don't wish for half as much as we think they do."

Regina scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"I'm serious. Don't roll your eyes at me," scolded Granny. "I've been around the block a few times, almost reached the end of my road more than once…"

"Granny, don't say that please," Regina softly begged.

"No it's true," said Granny. "I've had some close calls in the past few years and it's made me realize that once you leave this world you're not allowed to take baggage and specifics."

She paused and adjusted her cardigan before continuing. "You know when you get to my age you start to think about it more and more. When you go and what you're gonna leave behind. And you know what? All that matters to me is that you kids are happy. You and Ruby and Robin and Belle. Anita as well. I just want you all to be happy and taken care of. I don't care how. I don't care who with. I just want you all to be happy. Even if I'm not here to see it."

She reached out to squeeze Regina's hand and Regina could see a solemn acceptance in her eyes that she wished she wasn't there. Granny was one of the oldest people she knew and if Regina was honest she knew that there was a strong chance Granny wouldn't be around as long as she'd like her to be. It was an upsetting thought. One she immediately tried to push out of her head as Granny reached up to give her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

She peered at her through her old spectacles. "Now there's nothing wrong with respecting his wishes but you can't live your life trying to appease someone who's no longer here. Regina you already made Daniel happy. The minute you decided to marry him. You've waited long enough sweetheart. It's time to start thinking about you and what's going to make you happy."

Regina felt her throat grow thick as she listened to Granny's words. It was sound advice. Just the type she needed to hear. But of course that's what made it so painful.

Granny would always be the woman Regina respected most in the world but in that moment her words didn't carry their usual weight. Even after their talk she still felt the weight of her own guilt pressing down on her shoulders and she didn't know how to get it off.

XXXXXXXX

Robin never really liked the cold. In fact he hated it.

He hated the cold. He hated the snow. He hated dressing in layers. He completely hated winter and the cold. Seeing the leaves turn color was practically an omen for him. A sign of all the cold slush and itchy sweaters to come. And the worst part of it all was just how much time he was forced to stay indoors.

He still remembered the long, boring winter days he'd spent stuck in Granny's house. She'd always seen winter as an opportunity for the family to take up indoor hobbies. Granny had her knitting, Belle had her books and Ruby would focus on her beauty experiments. But Robin never cared for indoor activities. Growing up he'd always been an outdoors child. Always wanting to run around and feel the sun on his face. Winter always made doing those things much harder.

It was the winter when he was twelve years old that Granny introduced him to an old friend of hers, Marco. High school carpentry teacher and masterclass woodworker.

Granny wouldn't stand for restlessness in the house, especially not when it came in the form of a pre-teen boy constantly repeating "I'm bored" over and over. She arranged for his winter afternoons to be spent in Marco's basement, helping him out with his woodworking for the prized reward of five bucks a day. And of course, he'd resisted at first but for a young boy the whirring of sharp tools and the hammering of nails was far too alluring to pass up.

He would've preferred to be outside but woodworking quickly became a way to make the indoors bearable. It was fun to use his hands in a new way. He worked with Marco to build cribs, carve doors and frames, even the occasional toy given the season. It helped passed the time and he turned out to be a quick study. Nowhere near as good as Marco of course but good enough to build presents for his family that they genuinely liked (and still used even twenty years later).

Ever since then he'd always managed to spend a decent chunk of the winter months working on some project to keep his hands busy.

Given all that he supposed it was unsurprising that he was currently situated in his garage buffing out the scratches on Granny's old desk in order to prep it for a new coat of wax. Winter was coming up after all.

Or perhaps it wasn't winter at all? Perhaps he just needed a distraction?

Working on Granny's desk kept him focused on something other than the fact that Regina was coming over to pick out surrogates.

It was after eight and she'd be arriving any minute. He had to admit that he was nervous. After his game with Emma, he'd spent the rest of his free time picking out his top choices for surrogates. Looking through his copy of the binder he'd gone over each profile trying to see it through her eyes. Narrowing down the women by age and health and previous full-term pregnancies. He wanted Regina to be comfortable with the options he brought up and if seeing the women as nothing more than their most basic statistics helped her then so be it. It was the least he could do. Especially considering the call he'd gotten from Granny that afternoon.

It was 8:20 when he heard her knock on the door. He opened it to find her standing on his doorstep with a paper bag full of what he assumed was Mexican food judging by the smell.

She wrinkled her nose at him as she stepped into the house. "You smell like sawdust."

"I've been working on Granny's desk."

She smirked at him. "Oh, is that time of year already?"

The sight of him in an old T-shirt with flecks of wood sticking to the fabric was a familiar one to her. It was a harbinger of winter and a sign that she would soon be getting a new bookcase or picture frame or some piece of wooden furniture to add to the ever-growing collection she'd amassed from him over the years.

With a sigh, she unbuttoned her jacket and headed toward the kitchen, her heels clacking against his hardwood floors. I brought over food from Diego's so I hope you didn't eat at the firehouse."

"I always save room for Diego's," he said following her into the kitchen.

He leaned against the archway and watched as she pulled out the food and set it out on his old round kitchen table. She'd ordered one chicken burrito for him, with extra cheese and guacamole of course, an order of beans and rice for herself along with a side of tortilla chips for them to share. She set it out as if it was any other day. As if she was perfectly fine and not bothered at all. If he hadn't known her so well he might've even believed that she okay. But sadly… he knew better.

He sighed before he spoke. "So I heard you had a bit of rough day."

She looked up from the table with wide eyes. "What?"

"Granny called."

Her lips formed a perfect "O" as she sunk into the nearest chair, her hand drifting toward her stomach. She hadn't exactly planned on telling him about her little breakdown that day. In fact, she'd hoped she'd be able to keep it to herself. She should've known better.

Robin walked over to the table, dragged a chair closer to her and took a seat. "So… what happened?"

Regina bit her lip before responding. She softly shook her head. "It's stupid."

"It's not stupid if it makes you cry in broad daylight. I've known you long enough to know that," Robin replied.

She rolled her eyes in a conceding manner. Taking a deep breath, she said, "I took a walk after court and… I ended up at the bridge."

Robin raised his eyebrows in surprise. "The bridge by the pond? The one where he asked you to marry him?"

Regina nodded her head. "Yes, the one where he asked me marry him. Same one where I foolishly said no."

He saw a flicker of pain flash behind her eyes and he immediately knew she was feeling the same spark of guilt she'd always felt when she thought of that night.

"Hey…" Robin gently admonished her. "You righted that mistake."

Regina scoffed and her dropped her gaze down to her shoes. "Maybe," she whispered. "But standing there… I just felt like I was breaking his heart all over again."

She paused for a moment, the memory of her refusal playing over in the back of her mind. Him begging her to say yes and her crying that she couldn't before rushing away from him. If there was one choice, one moment in her life that she could do over leaving Daniel alone on that bridge would be it. Not immediately running back to him when she did would be a close second.

Finally gathering the courage to look Robin in the eye she asked, "Do you ever think of Marian?"

A confused look instantly grew on his face. "Of course I think about Marian," he replied. "Not a day goes by where I don't."

"Well I know that," said Regina. "I just mean… do you ever think about how she would feel about what we're doing? Having the baby I mean?"

Robin hesitated before answering her. He leaned back in his seat, his heart suddenly trapped in a vice grip. "Of course I have," he softly admitted. "Every step of the way."

"Do you think she'd be upset?" she asked meekly.

"No." Robin immediately shook his head. "No, I don't think she'd be upset at all."

A line appeared between Regina's eyebrows as she curiously knitted them together. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because we talked about it," said Robin. His expression went grim as he paused for a moment, taking in a slow deep breath as if steeling himself for what he was about to talk about next. Then he continued, "In those last few months… when things were getting really bad and… the doctors were… when they were telling us to get things in order… she talked to me about it. Made me promise her that I would try to be happy in whatever way I could. She said it was all she wanted from me."

Regina felt her throat grow tight as she nodded her head. "I remember."

Another memory appeared in the back of her mind. And this time Daniel wasn't present. Instead it was just her and Marian, sitting in a hospital room. Marian, looking small and frail as the heart monitor beside her bed steadily continued to beep. Regina, sitting in a chair next to her bed, some old paperback romance novel held in her hands as she read aloud to the woman next to her, trying to provide some small sense of escapism during their bleak reality. Lifting her hand to turn the page only to find it held down by Marian's. Looking up to see her best friend's wife looking seriously into her eyes and making her promise to take care him once she was gone. "Help him find a way to be happy," she'd said in her weak, raspy voice. "He won't be able to do it on his own."

Surprisingly this was the first time she'd thought that back to that moment since they'd made their agreement. In a way she supposed she was living up to her promise.

"What about you?" asked Robin. "Do you think Daniel would be upset?"

Regina took a deep breath. "I don't know," she admitted. "I know he loved me and he'd want me to be happy but…"

"But what?" asked Robin.

"But this was supposed to be ours," she desperately admitted. "Having a baby together was our dream for so long. And when we found out we could never have one in the way that we wanted… I think I started to downplay just how much the experience would've meant to me."

In that moment it was like a switch went off inside of her. Everything she'd been holding back suddenly poured out of her.

"The truth is… I wanted to be pregnant. I wanted it so badly I used to dream about it. When I found out that I couldn't be pregnant with his baby it was devastating for both of us but for Daniel it carried so much more weight. He was never going to have this thing, this experience that he always wanted us to have together and I think that when I saw how much it was hurting him, how disappointed he was…I just wanted to carry a piece of that pain for him. So I downplayed it. Told him it didn't matter, told myself it wasn't important. We'd just have a baby another way. And I meant it. I really did."

Her voice grew increasingly wobbly with each sentence, finally breaking on her final three words. Robin was stricken upon the sight of tears welling up in her brown eyes, threatening to spill over to her cheeks as she continued to speak.

"But now… now Daniel's gone and we're trying to have a baby together and I'm excited about that. I really am but I… I just…."

"You still feel like you have to carry his pain," Robin solemnly finished for her.

"Yes," she softly hissed. Running her fingers through her hair she took a deep breath to calm herself. She felt Robin's hand reach out to rub the small of her back in a comforting gesture. It helped. She paused for another beat before softly admitting, "I wanted to say yes."

Robin narrowed his eyes at her in confusion. "To what?"

"When we first agreed to this you asked me if I wanted to carry the baby myself," she elaborated. "I wanted to say yes but… I felt like I couldn't."

"Because you'd think he'd be hurt if you did," said Robin understandingly.

Regina nodded her head. "I felt guilty enough just having the baby without him. I thought that if I wasn't carrying the baby myself then maybe it wouldn't feel like such a betrayal to him."

A tear fell down her cheek then. She hastily wiped it away but it's presence didn't go unnoticed by Robin. Looking around the room for a tissue of some sort, his eyes fell on the takeout bag. Beggars couldn't be choosers. He dug through it and handed Regina a clean napkin to wipe her eyes with. She chuckled as he handed it to her but still she took it.

As she wiped away the tears from her eyes, Robin supportively rested his hand on her shoulder. "For the record… I don't think any of this was stupid."

She shook her head. "Robin, please. It's ridiculous."

"No it's not."

"Yes it is," she stressed. "It's been five years… I shouldn't…. I shouldn't feel like this anymore. Like I'm still trying to hold onto the life we had together. It's crazy."

"It's not crazy," he assured her. "And I get it. Believe me I get it."

And he did. Losing someone was never easy but letting go of them was always much harder. You couldn't do it all at once. It happened in bits and pieces. And the dreams and promises always seemed to be last to go. Probably because most of the time you didn't realize you were still holding onto them.

Robin swallowed hard before speaking again. "Regina if you… want to take a break from this and sort things out I'd understand."

Regina immediately shook her head. "No! That isn't what I want. I just…" She sighed and took a breath. "It's just that this whole thing has made me realize that I've been living more of my life for Daniel than I realized. It's been five years and every time I smile I still feel guilty that he wasn't there to see it. And I can't like that anymore. It's time I start choosing to be happy for me and thinking about what I want. So if you don't mind… I think I want to carry the baby myself."

Robin's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?"

"Yes," she said, nodding her head. "And I know it's not what we planned and it might make things more complicated-"

"I want you to do it."

Regina stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening in surprise at his lack of hesitation. "Really? You'd be okay with it?"

"Yes," he said, with a firm nod. "Honestly we weren't getting anywhere with the surrogates anyway. And I could tell you weren't comfortable with the idea even though you agreed. Besides you're my best friend. If being pregnant is going to make you happy then I would love for you to carry our child."

His voice was steady and sincere as he spoke. One look in his blue eyes and she knew he meant every word he said. He really was okay with it. He wanted her to carry their baby. With that knowledge a weight lifted off her shoulders and a warm feeling started to swell up in her chest.

Regina's lips pulled into a smile. "Thank you Robin."

"Of course," he said, sending her a gentle smile of his own. "Now do you think we can start eating? I think the food's getting cold."

She chuckled at his immediate change of subject. "Sure," she said, nodding her head with a grin. "And if the food is cold we could just reheat it over the surrogacy binders, which I'd be happy to set fire to."

It was Robin's turn to laugh then. "See I know that as a fireman I should probably give you lecture on the dangers of playing with flames but part of me really just wants to see those profiles burn."

Things grew more lighthearted then as they laughed together. The seriousness of their earlier conversation drifted away as the night went on. They relaxed together. Tossed the surrogacy binders into the trashcan with glee – Robin was still a firefighter after all – and got back to focusing on their excitement for the future. With the surrogacy issue no longer hanging over their heads their stalemate was officially over. And when Regina finally left for the night they both felt assured and optimistic about the direction of their choice.

In fact, it wasn't even until they both woke up the following morning that either of them started to worry about just how their baby would end up being conceived.


NEXT CHAPTER: Robin and Regina get started "conceiving" their child.

I hope you enjoyed this! Please leave a review! They warm my heart!