Prompt: Robin and Regina fighting during her presidential campaign.
Fundraisers are her least favorite part of the campaign. Dressing up in ridiculously expensive gowns and jewels, parading around fancy hotel venues and diplomatically begging the rich and powerful for donations, all while they secretly try to find the best way to stab each other in the back.
Regina hates every bit of it, but it's a necessary evil, as Sidney keeps telling her, a definite must in the list of tasks she has to complete if she wants to be president.
She can usually handle herself just fine at these events, can charm her way into many a wealthy businessman's good graces, but tonight it's different, and not just because the election is on the line.
It's different because her secret lover is here, watching her.
It's not that he hovers or coddles her, not at all, but this is a very nasty part of the campaign trail, and she'd rather Robin not see her smiling and fluttering her eyelashes at all these rich old men.
As it turns out, the man who starts the entire incident is not old, or rich.
He's famous, though, a high-profile political analyst by the name of Greg Mendell who friend-of-a-friended his way into the guest list, and now mingles with the high and mighty, pretending to be one of them as he offers Regina his support on the campaign, provided she do something for him.
"And what would that be?" she plays along, trying to remain polite while keeping her distance, the light and easygoing demeanor she saves for these events now gone and replaced with a wariness she's never felt before.
"Well, you see, I have a room at this hotel," Mendell tells her, moving closer and trailing a finger up her naked arm, his breath so close it makes her body shake with fear, her stomach rolling at his sleazy proposal when he adds, "maybe you can come with me... we could get to know each other better, find out what our strengths and weaknesses are⦠in every subject."
"I beg your pardon?" Regina gasps, wrenching herself away from him, but he's too quick, and everyone seems too busy with impressing each other to notice that she's in trouble, the man's clammy hand closing around her wrist as he pulls her toward him.
"You heard me. I have friends in high places who could help you become the next president. That's what you want, isn't it? I'm sure we could come to some sort of... understanding. I've never slept with a president before, it would be interesting to try it."
"How is it that you're not utterly embarrassed by this ridiculous display?" she snaps back, and she sees anger flare in his eyes.
"You have ten seconds to let go of my arm," she hisses menacingly when he grabs her again, "or I promise you'll regret it."
"Oh, feisty. Good, I like it when they're wild," he smiles, licking at his yellowing teeth.
"Eight... seven..." Regina mutters.
"Six... five, I'm quite excited to see how this goes," Mendell joins in, "three, tw-"
She hears rather than sees the cracking of his jaw as Robin lands a punch on him, sending the man tumbling to the floor and clutching his face as he wails in pain.
"Stay away from her!" he barks at the slimy man, and Regina is mortified.
She feels Robin's hands steer her away when everyone takes notice of what's happened, and Greg is spewing threats from his spot on the floor, telling her she'll never make it to the presidency, and it has anger bubbling up in her, to the point where she turns back and smiles.
"Oh, Mr. Mendell, that's where you're wrong. You see, when I become president -and I will become president-, I'll make sure little weasels like you get what they deserve," she says in a low, yet completely pleasant tone, strolling away with her head held high, until she and Robin go out the door of the ballroom and down the hall towards the bathrooms, where the security cameras can't spy on their every move.
"What were you thinking?!" she hisses at him when they've made sure they're secluded enough and no one will find them.
"Excuse me?! He was hurting you!"
"I was handling it!" she snaps.
"Are you seriously fighting me because I defended you?!" Robin barks back, and ugh, he is so insufferable sometimes.
"Do you not realize what this will look like?! What people will think when the press finds out my security chief beat up a famous political personality?!"
"Is that really what you're worried about?! He could've hurt you, Regina!"
"I told you I was handling it! This is a hard endeavor as it is, Robin, I don't need your jealousy to get in the way of my winning this election!"
"Well, pardon me for trying to keep some bastard's hands off my girlfriend."
"Oh, no, don't try to make me look like the bad guy here, you overstepped your bounds, you made a man bleed in the middle of my fundraiser, for crying out loud!"
"I'm out of here, I can't talk to you when you're like this," Robin says, his tone low, disappointed.
"You mean when I'm being sensible?!" she bites back, but he's not listening, walks away and leaves her there to stew in her frustration, angry tears threatening to spill and ruin her makeup.
She doesn't let them, though, fixes the few hairs she finds out of place and reapplies some lipstick before she heads out, walking back into the ballroom with a smile on her face, pretending not to notice the waiters hastily cleaning the small bits of blood smeared on the floor where the altercation took place.
She apologizes to her guests, explaining away Robin's attack as the actions of a very protective head of security, and then engages David in conversation. Minutes later, they're joined by some potential investors, all of whom jokingly offer to donate big bucks to her campaign if she promises to keep all her events this interesting. They make light of it, laugh and discuss proper issues and actual donations, and she starts to think she may salvage the night after all.
And then it all comes crashing down with one look towards the bar.
Robin is there, sitting in a stool and nursing a Scotch, but that's not what throws her. What makes her blood boil is the cheaply dressed blonde running a hand up and down his arm, her fake smile and fake boobs taking up his line of vision as she whispers something in his ear, and he laughs and shakes his head, turning to face the other side of the room, trying to avoid her as he sips his drink.
Not that that stops little Miss America from trying to get his attention, she simply pageant-walks her tiny body to the other side as well, so that once again, she's face to face with Robin. Her Robin.
Regina sees red.
One second she's standing there making small talk with David and the investors, and the next she's stalking towards the bar, her champagne glass held so tightly in her hand she's surprised she doesn't crush it. Suddenly she's there, and both her boyfriend and the annoying brat trying to seduce him are oblivious to her presence, but Regina doesn't stop to wait for them to notice her, rather walks straight to the girl and 'accidentally' bumps into her so hard she actually makes her slide off her stool, and then, just to top things off, she uses the not-so-accidental collision to tip her glass, spilling her drink all down the front of the other woman's very trashy and very expensive pink dress, Robin's eyes widening, half-murmuring an apology as the younger woman walks away in a rage, after Regina offers a smug Oops, that sounds anything but contrite.
He rises, walks off to the opposite door, not looking back to see if she follows, but she does, her steps hurried as she tries to catch up with him, until they're back near the bathrooms, away from the cameras once again.
"Why the hell did you do that?!"
"Oh, please, the little princess had it coming," she says, like it's no big deal.
"Did she?" Robin asks, and he's angry, so very angry, and- no, no, not angry... amused... he's, he's laughing, actually laughing.
"She was all over you!" Regina defends, crossing her arms petulantly over her chest as she continues, "What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and let her touch yo- Oh."
It hits her then, why this is so funny to Robin. She's just reacted in the exact, same way he did earlier, when Greg Mendell was getting handsy with her.
"Yes. Oh," he mocks, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looks at her with a smirk that she wants to kiss right off.
So she does.
His hands find her waist almost immediately, pushing her back against the wall as she assaults his mouth with hers, her tongue tasting the Scotch on his and moaning as she savors it.
"Just for the record," he gasps when they break apart for air, one hand moving from her waist to her breast, kneading the swell slowly and firmly, making her gasp as he keeps talking, "you have nothing to worry about."
Leave it to him to turn some hot and heavy kissing into an emotional experience.
"Don't I? She was young, and pretty," she counters, still basking in his attentions.
"And drunk, and obnoxious, and most importantly, not you," he rasps against her neck, wrapping both arms around her waist and pressing her flush against him, his mouth back on hers a second later, teeth nipping playfully at her tongue when she licks his upper lip.
"I only want you, Regina," he breathes into her ear, rocking his hips against hers, his erection straining against his pants as he presses it even closer to her dress, so much she can feel his hardness as it slides up and down against her thigh. "You're the only one that does this to me," he insists, and god, she wants him so badly.
They can't, not here, they'll take too long and she'll be missed, and if he accidentally tears her dress...
But it seems he's already devised a plan, and he's shamelessly dry-humping her against the wall, licking and kissing her neck and jaw and mouth, his tongue hot and wet and perfect, hands drifting down to her ass and groping, his satisfied grunts mixing with her moans as he keeps thrusting against her, the seam of his trousers hitting her clit just right over the layers of fabric, the friction causing pleasure to slither up her body in the most delicious way.
It doesn't take her long to come, riled up as she is by the champagne and the adrenaline of this whole ordeal, and Robin grunts and thrusts a few more times before he exhales her name in a bout of ecstasy, coming in his pants just as she starts to come down from her own high.
"We should fight more often," he chuckles into the skin of her neck, making her laugh as she presses a lingering kiss to his jaw, thankful for his hands as they hold her upright, her legs still too shaky from her orgasm to do the job themselves.
"Mmm," she agrees, cradling his cheek in her hand to bring his face to hers, whispering one tiny caveat that has him nodding eagerly.
"Less clothes next time, okay?"
His tone is teasing, yet hot and breathy as he answers, his lips hovering hungrily over hers.
"As her majesty wishes."
