For Allison. Happy birthday!

Here's what you asked for =)


"I'm sorry."

Those are the first words she says to him when she sees his face on the screen. It's not the 'Happy birthday!' she had planned, but she's late in her return home, and he's all alone on his birthday, and she feels terrible.

"It's fine, my love. You're on your way, right?"

"Yeah, just eight more hours and I'll be ready to give you your, um, present."

"Oh, really?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at her.

"Really. I've cleared my schedule. When I get home, we're spending the entire day doing whatever you want."

"What if what I want is you, naked, in the bedroom with me all day?"

"Then I'll strip the second I get there," she promises.

"Actually, what if we were to have a bit of fun right now?"

"Now?"

"Yes. It's my birthday, and I can't have you. Might as well get the next best thing."

"You're insane." She tries to make her tone firm, but the smirk he's giving her is contagious, and she finds herself grinning back despite her hesitance.

"I'm merely establishing contact with my wife on my birthday, why is that such a bad idea?" he asks innocently.

"Because I know exactly what kind of 'contact' you're seeking," she tells him, raising an eyebrow and smirking. He shrugs his shoulders, unabashed in his response.

"Can you blame me?" he asks her then, practically pouting as he adds, "I haven't seen you in two weeks. And it's my birthday."

"Robin, if someone—"

"I worked security for you for five years, Regina. Trust me, I know how to establish a secure online call without giving the NSA or the Secret Service a peep show," he intervenes, making her chuckle.

She sighs, then, her hand already toying with the button of her blazer.

"You want this, too," he observes, and even on the screen she can see the way his eyes follow the motion of her hand, up and down as she moves it over her lapel.

"Because I miss you," she confesses. "And because we got interrupted on the one night we had together before I left."

By 'interrupted' she means Agent Swan had called their room while they were in the middle of some very good foreplay. She'd cited something about a national emergency, one that turned out to be a false alarm, easily resolved through diplomatic channels. But one that had also fully occupied Regina's last night before her trip, had landed her on her seat aboard Air Force One without the earth-shattering orgasm Robin had been building her up to with teasing passes of his tongue against her nipples, and his fingers buried inside her.

"Yes, I'm quite frustrated over that, myself," Robin brings her out of her musings, and there's a subtle note of disdain in his voice as he speaks, one Regina knows is directed at Swan's spectacularly terrible timing.

"Yes, well, when I get home tonight we can pick up right where we left off," she says coyly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as Robin laughs lightly.

"I thought that's what we were going to do now." His tone is suggestive, raspy and wonderful, low in that way he knows makes her squirm. He's doing it on purpose, the sexy bastard. And sure enough, the very sound has her squeezing her thighs together.

She's heading back to Washington after a diplomatic visit halfway around the world, currently sitting in her bed on Air Force One while the quiet rumble of the plane's engines muffle her conversation with Robin. He's in a dark gray T-shirt, one of those V-neck ones Regina loves to see on him, and she can't see below that, but she's sure he's only in his boxers, sitting on their bed as he watches her.

"I don't know, Robin, someone could see," she protests again, but then her ridiculous, unbelievably attractive husband decides to remove his shirt, his hair flying when the fabric brushes it, and that lock she loves to push back falls over his brow just as his tongue peeks out to wet his lips.

"Regina, I'm dying here," he murmurs. "It's safe. I promise. Now, stop worrying, and take that shirt off."

At that remark, Regina can't resist playing with him.

"Babe?" she calls, her voice sickly sweet.

"Yes?"

"When has bossing me around ever worked in your favor?" she asks him then, grinning at his frustrated grunt.

"Regina," he throws pleadingly, and that's when she realizes one of his arms is moving slightly, a slow up and down motion that is barely discernible on the screen, but she catches it.

Well, then...

"Do you want me, Robin?" she asks, knowing it drives him wild when she starts talking to him.

Instead of replying, though, he moves to sit up, and stands far back enough to remove his boxers without bumping the computer.

It's a blur of motion for a second, and then he's back, fully naked and gorgeous. She recognizes the angle, can tell he's placed the laptop on his nightstand, to the upper right of the bed, while he sits on the lower left of the mattress, so that all of him is in plain view. She can see his hand now, wrapped around his cock, thumb teasing his tip.

"What do you think?" he answers her question, gesturing down with his chin so she can see how hard he is.

"Mmm, wish I was there to, um... assist," she teases, and Robin groans.

"Regina, please," he begs.

"Please, what, babe?" she asks, her voice as low and sexy as she can make it.

"I need to see you," he pleads, and who is she to deny him? Needy as she is for his mouth, his touch.

She can't have either of those things, but she can have his words, can have his panting breaths and the mentions of how much he wants her, and Regina is already so desperate for him that she thinks this might just do the trick. At least until she gets home and can fuck him good and proper.

Her navy blazer is off in seconds, followed by her shirt, bra and trousers, until she's standing by the bed in nothing but the tiny bit of purple silk that passes for underwear, her hands playing with her breasts as she stares at the camera.

"Is this what you wanted?" she asks, keeping her voice low.

"Fuck, yes," he hisses as he drops his head back, his eyes closing for a minute as his hand picks up the pace just slightly.

And then he's looking at her again, licking his lower lip, and muttering, "God, I can't wait to get my hands on you."

"I miss you, too," she replies with a wicked little laugh, adds, "but until I get home, you'll just have to watch." And his answering groan is animalistic, almost urgent.

"You've been thinking about this for a while, haven't you?" she finally catches on, "Not just since I left."

"I'll admit it's crossed my mind, yes," he confesses, giving her a wink before his eyes drift back to her breasts. Regina keeps massaging, starts to enjoy herself by giving her nipples little twisting rolls between her fingers.

"Well, then, by all means, Agent Locksley—"

"No longer agent," he reminds her, and okay, he's right, but is he really choosing now to correct her?

"Robin, focus," she replies, and he smiles at her sheepishly, then roams his gaze over her form.

"You are stunning," he says. Okay, nice job. Good comeback.

"Tell me, Agent Locksley," she continues, uses his old title on purpose this time, to see if he tries to correct her again. He doesn't. "What do you want to do to me right... this... second?"

She punctuates each of those last three words with a step closer to her tablet, crawling then over the bed until she's right in front of the device. She moves to lie on her back on the bed, shifts the tablet so that it's beside her, but with enough distance to capture her naked body for Robin's perusal.

"I want to kiss you," he starts, his voice dropping an octave as he watches her.

"Where?" Regina asks, then moves her hand to her nipple when he swallows and answers.

"Everywhere. I want to run my fingers through your hair. God, I love your hair. I want to touch your lips, kiss them, kiss your neck, your breasts, that little spot just below your earlobe that makes you writhe for me."

Regina can only moan at the words, her hand working her nipples just a little harder.

"I want to hear that noise you make when I fuck you with my fingers, those little screams you try not to let out, but you can't help yourself. I want to feel you dig your nails into my shoulders because I make you feel good. God I can't wait to taste you, make you come on my tongue."

"It's your birthday," she moans, "shouldn't it be the—" a sharp gasp cuts through her speech when her hand abandons her breasts and shifts down to rub at her clit. "—the other way around?"

"The way I see it," Robin says then, "you're my birthday cake. And the minute you get here, I'm going to eat you until you scream..."

"Fuck, Robin!" she lets out, fingers rubbing faster. This is going to take a lot less time than she'd initially thought. She can't help it, she loves it when he talks to her, when he tells her all the things he wants to do to her.

"I can't wait to be inside you, with you wrapped around me all snug and warm."

"Would you go slow?" she asks, her voice breathy, "Or would you go hard? What do you want? Tell me."

"Slow at first, because I love feeling you."

"God, I love feeling you, too. The way you move inside me. How you bite my lip when I tell you to go faster."

"I'd pick up the pace, then. Just a little. Just enough to get you all riled up the way I like."

She whimpers at the image, two of her fingers venturing inside her and probing pleasantly.

"You're so beautiful right now," he tells her, and her eyes close as she surrenders to the fantasy, but she can hear his short breathing, the way he groans at the sight of her.

"Regina, look at me," he says then, and she does, forces herself to stop moving her hand for a moment so she can open her eyes and focus them on the screen.

"Do you know how much I want you?" he asks, a rhetorical question, surely, considering she can see how much he wants her. "How much I need to touch you and feel you tighten around me?"

"God, Robin," she moans then, her hand back on her clit, fingers rubbing slowly, but firmly, providing just enough contact to have her reeling again, teetering on the cusp as he murmurs dirty things to her.

"I saw that press conference," he starts. "You wore that tight black skirt just for me, didn't you? Because you knew I'd be watching, and it would drive me mad."

"Did it work?" she gasps her question, her hand going just a tad faster. He notices the change in her rhythm, moans when his eyes catch the quicker motion of her hand.

"There you were, talking about foreign policy, and all I wanted to do was press you against that podium and have my way with you," he rasps, and Regina whimpers at the image.

"Mmm, that would've been amazing," she tells him. "Can't wait to feel you."

"Oh and you will. I'm going to make sure you can't walk after you get here."

She chuckles breathlessly at that, throws a sassy, "You're awfully confident, birthday boy."

"I know your body, Regina," he presses on, his voice low and delicious as it wraps around the words, "I know just how to make you scream."

"Do you?" she whispers, and where did her voice go? She's too far gone to care.

"I know you love it when I suck your clit," he starts, and she's moaning again. Louder. "I know how wild you get when I fuck you with my hand. That little trick I do with my finger?"

She knows exactly what he's talking about, and she gasps a low "Fuck!" at the memory of the last time he did it, that downward press of his finger inside her that makes her squirm every. Single. Time.

"I love when you do that," she adds to her whispered curse, and she hears the smile in his voice when he smugly replies with an I know.

"You always moan so loudly when I do it. And you know how I love it when you're loud."

She gasps as her fingers move faster, her eyes still open and staring at him as he gives himself more firm pumps of his hand, presses his thumb over his tip.

Regina licks her lips inadvertently as she watches, and he groans.

"You want to suck my cock, don't you?" he asks, just as breathless as she is, and Regina nods in time with the up-and-down of his hand.

"The way you react... Mmh," she derails her speech on a particularly sharp jolt of pleasure, and she's wet, so wet as her fingers rub over her clit. "I like knowing I can unravel you like that," she admits, her voice still a mere breath. "Makes me feel sexy to know that I can do that to you."

"And you are so, so sexy, my love. The way you moan around me is so fucking hot. And your hair, your—" he's gasping, stroking and moaning for a moment before he finishes his sentence. "Love playing with your hair while your mouth is on m— fuck, I need you."

"I need you, too," she gasps back. "Not long now."

"The second you get here, I'm going to rip your clothes off and ravish you."

"God, yes," she answers, moaning as her fingers move faster, sliding wetly over her sex over and over again. Then moving in and out of her, hard and fast, her thumb pressing against her clit as her hips start to roll frantically into her hand.

"I'm going to make you come over and over again, Regina," he keeps going, his voice deeper, gravelly and incredible. "On my tongue, on my fingers, on my cock. I want you to come so hard you forget your own name."

That's all it takes for her to moan out her orgasm, muffling the sounds against the pillow as she turns and buries her head in it, riding the orgasm on her fingers as she lets out a strangled, ecstatic little scream of his name, her legs clamping together over her hand as she feels pleasure overpower every other sensation.

Her breaths are short and labored for a couple of minutes, and a distant groan reminds her Robin is still there, still pumping his cock as he watches her. She should probably help with that.

"Are you close, Robin?"

"Fuck, yes," he mutters, his brow furrowed as his hand moves faster. "Watching you like that... god, Regina, you were spectacular."

That's the moment she notices his cock is wetter, his hand, too, sliding easier in its motions than it had before.

"Are you using my lotion?" she asks with a smirk.

"Smells like you," he says by way of explanation, and she loves it, loves that he wants her this badly.

"Wanna know a secret?" she teases, dropping the timber of her voice to that low, raspy tone he likes so much.

"As good as that felt, it's nothing compared to your hand, your mouth, to having you inside me. "

"Fuck!" he mumbles, gasping as he keeps stroking his shaft.

"Do you know what I want, Robin?" she asks, not waiting for his answering grunt as she tells him, "I want to suck your cock... take you in my mouth, drive you crazy with my tongue. And then, then I want you to fuck me. Hard."

"Shit," he curses mid-groan, moves his hand faster, and she can tell. Can recognize the deep furrowing of his brow, the way his teeth bite into his lower lip, the erratic rhythm of his hips as they begin to thrust into his hand... he's almost there.

"It'll feel so good. Having you inside me, doing all those things you mentioned. Can't wait to make you come. For you to make me come."

She sits up a little straighter then, lets her hands play with her breasts, her hair, puts on a little show for him as he grunts and gasps.

"Let go, babe, show me what I do to you," she tells him, and then he's gone. Moans her name as he spills into his hand, his breathing labored as he pumps a few more times, prolonging the feeling, until he's boneless and spent, half-collapsing on the mattress, facing her.

He's closer to the camera now, and she can see all the way to his belly button, but not below. His arm is still moving though, languidly up and down as he exhales deeply, his free hand falling atop his head as he laughs.

"Happy birthday to me," he says with a breathy chuckle.

Regina giggles in response, shakes her head in amusement and rolls her eyes at him.

"You going to sleep?" she asks then, can't help sounding a little smug as she adds, "You look a little worn out."

He laughs at that, takes a deep breath and then nods.

"Shower first, but yes. I need a nap after this. Have to be ready for when my wife gets home," he answers, wiggling his eyebrows at her, making her laugh with him.

"I love you," she says, after a couple of minutes of silent contemplation.

"I love you, too," he replies. "See you soon?"

Regina looks at the clock hanging next to the door, grimaces slightly when she notices the time.

"Just seven hours to go," she says with sarcastic cheerfulness.

Robin chuckles again, his grin lingering as he looks at her through the camera, stretches out a hand to run a finger over where she imagines her face is on the screen.

"I'll have dinner waiting," he promises, making her smile tenderly at him.

"Save me some birthday cake, okay?" she reminds him.

"Love you," he says again, after nodding his answer.

"Love you, too," she replies, and then he's gone.

Regina huddles under the covers, too relaxed to care about her naked state.

Her husband's sleepy smile is the last thing she thinks of before falling asleep for the rest of the flight.