Prompt: Regina meets baby Roland for the first time.


He's late.

She's invited him over for dinner at seven sharp, and he's late.

"It's only been ten minutes, hon," Daniel tries to placate her with a smile, his hand pressing into the small of her back and running up and down in short strokes, "he'll be here."

"I just don't like to be kept waiting," she mutters, her tone a little haughty, and her husband laughs.

"The night I proposed to you, you said yes before I even asked you, just because you couldn't wait for me to get over my nerves. Believe me, I know how impatient you are," he jokes, leaning in to kiss her cheek before he walks to the living room.

A car pulls up just outside while she's staring out the window five minutes later, and she's just about ready to start berating her head-of-security-slash-friend for being late when she notices he's pulling a diaper bag out of the car, hitting his head on the roof of it and cursing as he leans inside to pick something else up, emerging with a bundle of blankets and his free hand rubbing at the sore spot on his head, and Regina feels the breath whoosh out of her.

"Regina? Everything okay?" Daniel says when he hears her gasp and sees her pace nervously around her foyer, his hand grabbing hers and giving it a light squeeze.

"He's here."

"Oh. That's good, though, right?"

"He, uh... he brought his baby."

She sees the moment realization hits, like the light has switched off behind his eyes. Robin doesn't know what he's just done, has no idea what kind of hellish pain he's unleashed, and they can't tell him, they're not at that stage in their friendship yet, Regina doesn't know if they ever will be.

She and Daniel tried for a child for years, with only three miscarriages and a lot of heartache to show for it, until one day they decided they wouldn't try anymore, wouldn't subject each other to that kind of suffering any longer. But now, now Robin's brought his baby to their house, and Regina feels that hole in her heart opening further, memories of horrible nights spent at the hospital haunting her with every breath.

"I can't do this," she says, her hands trembling, but Daniel, her kind, loving, wonderful Daniel, senses her hesitation before she even utters the words, grabs her hands and brings them to his lips, kissing her fingers and telling her it'll be okay.

"He's our friend, Regina, he was bound to introduce us to his son eventually."

"I can't do it, Daniel," she tells him, her eyes brimming with tears just as the doorbell chimes.

"Yes, you can," he counters, his hands now holding her face, eyes soft and caring, looking into hers. "This will be good for us, for you. Just give it a chance, okay?"

"Okay," she finally whispers a few seconds later, terrified when the sound of the doorbell interrupts their conversation for the second time, and she starts to fidget with her hair, to wipe away the few tears that have fallen down her cheeks.

"Why don't you take a moment, hm? Go up to bedroom, lie in bed for a minute, and then come down. I'll tell Robin you're just getting ready."

She nods, leans into his touch when he presses his forehead to hers, and then disappears up the stairs just as her husband opens the door and greets their friend on the other side.

It takes her about ten minutes in bed to gather herself, and another five or so to wash her face and fix her makeup, the cool water splashing on her skin soothing her as she takes deep breath after deep breath, reapplying mascara and red lipstick before she makes her way down the stairs, checking her reflection in the mirror by the hall before she ventures into the living room.

Robin is there, rocking his son as he talks to Daniel, both of them laughing at some joke or other, but Regina can't take her eyes off the bundled baby boy in his arms to pay enough attention to their conversation. He notices her staring, greets her with a cautious smile that tells her he feels guilty for bringing the child without letting her know.

"Sorry, I forgot my babysitter had the night off today, and I knew you'd have my hide if I cancelled."

"That's fine," she tells him, but she sounds stiff, off.

Robin doesn't notice (or maybe he just chooses not to), moving closer and peeling away a corner of the fluffy green blanket to show the baby's face to her.

"Regina, this is Roland. Roland, meet Regina."

He's... beautiful. Big brown eyes and short little wispy curls, his nose tiny and adorable, dimples so like his father's put on display when he stares at her curiously and smiles a gurgly smile, making a grin pull at the corners of her own lips as she looks at him.

"Can I hold him?" she finds herself asking, and Robin agrees immediately, passing the warm bundle into her arms and watching his boy as he squirms a bit at the change in position, then cuddles closer to Regina when she shifts his weight to hold him properly with one arm, free hand resting over the blanket by his belly.

And just like that, she's in love.

It's like magic, the way this child's soul and hers intertwine in that instant, how he can't stop staring at her and stretches out a hand to touch her face. She gives him her finger instead, which he grabs and pulls into his mouth, making her laugh.

"Hi, Roland," she says, and at the sound of her voice, the baby looks back up, releasing her finger and staring at her, entranced. And then he smiles, turns his little head and buries it into the blankets, making an adorable little sound that has her heart melting.

"He likes you," Robin tells her, grinning at her and caressing his son's cheek with his finger.

Daniel stands just behind him, catching Regina's eyes and smiling.

"Let's go grab you a soda, Robin," he offers, steering the other man away from her and to the kitchen, hanging back for a moment as he places his hand on her waist and a kiss on her cheek.

"You okay?" he asks her, with nothing but love and concern in his gaze.

"I am," she whispers, smiling tearfully at her husband before he turns with a nod and walks to the kitchen to join Robin, leaving her alone with the baby for a few precious moments.

She looks at him, his tiny mouth opening and closing, his eyes big and wide as he continues staring at her, and Regina raises her free hand again, runs the backs of her fingers over his hair, scratches a little at his belly, making him laugh as she rocks him gently, and she realizes then that despite all she's suffered, despite the countless nights of crying and the endless stream of treatments that never worked, life has still given her the chance to enjoy the love of a child, and she murmurs a reassurance, meant more for herself than her husband, who's now departed the foyer, but it settles her, has her smiling wider as she stares and stares at the darling baby boy she's holding.

"I'm just fine."