Happy birthday, Alexia! An OQ AU for ya, lovely.


Sweethearts

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Sweet talkin' lady, love how you entice
Sugar, with just the right amount of spice

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"Regina Mills. I didn't think you had it in you."

He's leaning on her desk, arms crossed and a cocky smile on his lips – she slams her purse on the table, rubs her temples for a brief moment. Her headache is getting worse, and it's barely nine in the morning.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she asks, annoyed, in her best cut-the-crap tone.

He shifts one of his French books to reach his backpack – pulls out his phone, and unlocks the screensaver, turning it towards her.

"This."

She squeezes her eyes to see, slightly bothered by the blueish light of the screen. It's a Facebook page – her page, she notices, and there, under her profile picture…

"What is this?" she squeals, grabbing his phone to read better.

"You tell me," he grins, satisfied of her reaction.

She reads it again, and she can't believe to her own eyes. When did I write this?
Problem is, she knows exactly when.

Yesterday night, Mal has brought three bottles of vodka to her apartment, and Emma has joined them, and maybe there were also Mary and Ella – maybe Ruby, at some point – and everything is a blur, and her headache has redoubled. She stares at the post, hoping it will disappear.

Does somebody wanna be fake engaged to me for like 2 hours to try free wedding cake samples?

"Oh, my god," she moans, closing her eyes – when she reopens them, the post is still there, and Robin is grinning more than ever.

"Wipe that smile off your face, Locksley," she spits out, "before I force you to."

"So, did anyone answer?" he asks, like he doesn't know already. She's reading the comments – a few are mocking and not so nice, there are some proposals and even an innocent smiley from Mal.

"Doesn't matter, I'm deleting this –"

" – well I wouldn't mind accompanying you –"

She lifts her gaze, meets his eyes. "W-what?"

He shrugs, but there's a smile creeping up his face. "If it's a real thing, we could go together," he says, so casually she thinks she's imagining things.

She bites her lower lip, eyes going down again to avoid his, and notices – there's a link in the post, and – oh –

"It is," she informs, "apparently, I've shared the link too –"

"Well then it's settled," he says, lifting up from her desk.

"I didn't say yes!" she protests, but when he looks at her, all her counter-arguments die.

"Come on, Regina, it will be fun – free cakes!"

She diverts her eyes, and breathes, her mind racing – can I do this? Why does he want to – then Emma's voice raises in her head, that guy in your French class, he's pretty taken with you, isn't he? and Mal's voice echoes, heart-eyes again, Regina, you're so gross, – and all the stolen glances she's thrown him over the participe passé and Baudelaire's poems, and the scribbled notes he often leaves on her book –

"Okay," she hears herself answer, and he smiles widely then, and maybe this will be fun.

When they enter in the cake shop, the music is loud, her tangerine and floaty dress is tickling her skin from the heat, and he has taken her hand in his with one shift movement.

"What are you doing?" she whispers.

"Fake engagement, remember?" he answers, and leads her forward – a woman with strange dyed hair is coming towards them, and they stop in their tracks – her heart is hammering, her gaze slides on the other couples.

"Good morning, darlings!" the woman greets with a sticky sweet voice, and Regina raises an eyebrow, turns slightly her head to meet Robin's gaze. "So, when's your wedding?" she asks bluntly, and before either of them can even open their mouth, she's nearing Robin, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding them towards –

Tables and tables of cakes.

Tall, small, colored or white, red petals scattered in the trays, shining silver spoons and forks, white napkins and even whiter tablecloths. The scent in the air is almost overwhelming – a sweetness lingering all around them, and the ambiance is airy and bright, the cakes standing out as vivid spots of color.

"Oh, ahem, in – in February," Robin stumbles a bit in telling the lie, and the woman nods, brings them in front of a free table that hosts no less than six cakes.

"Oh, February is such a romantic month," the woman beams, and leans on to pour some champagne in two glasses. She shoves one in Regina's hand, gives the other to Robin.

"Yes, it will be… the week of your birthday, right, honey?" he says, looking at her, and she is taken aback for an instant – how does he even know when her birthday is? But she nods, squeezing his hand gratefully, and takes a sip of champagne.

"Ah, a man who remembers dates, he's surely a keeper," the woman says, inspired. "Well, I'll leave you two to our cakes – try all you want, and don't forget to write down your favorites, okay? Ah, Eva, darling!" her gaze runs towards an elegant woman who has just entered, and she leaves them there. Silence falls in a matter of seconds.

"So," Regina says hesitantly. This all thing was funny in her head – but now it seems to be an awkward first date, and he still hasn't left her hand.

"So," he repeats, and she lets her eyes linger on a sugar flower. The music is even louder on the inside – and now he's rubbing his thumb over her hand, soothingly, and waits for her to talk. But her head is empty, except for the sugar flower and the music.

Si te vas, yo también me voy –
Si me das, yo también te doy –
Mi amor –

"Regina?" he whispers, and her head snaps towards him. "You okay?"

"Yes," she rushes to answer. "Just translating the lyrics in my mind," and he nods, but then that woman is coming back and so he leans towards her, and kisses her temple in affection. She feels his lips against her skin, and relishes the sensation.

"Sorry, I had to –" he mutters, and she nods, then shakes her head slightly.

"Stop apologizing, I'm the one who should give more effort in this thing –" she tries, but he tightens his grip on her hand, and murmurs It's fine.

She shakes from her trance, at his words, and puts down their glasses, grabs a fork from the table – sinks it into the nearest cake, chocolate on the inside, and nears it to his mouth. "Come on, you first," she encourages, and he opens, welcoming the bite.

She watches as he gulps it down, and smiles at her, "It's good," he says, "try it," he takes the fork and mimics her movements, and soon the sweet savor is filling her senses.

"Oh, wow," she sighs, "okay, greatest idea I've ever had –"

He scoffs, then, and the fork – still near her lips – goes to prick her lower lip softly. "Sorry?" he says, as she's letting out an offended ouch!, "What do you mean, you had this idea?"

Regina takes another fork and presses one tip on his arm, payback, she thinks, and smiles devilishly. "My post, my idea."

"You told me you were drunk. Doesn't count."

"Yes it does."

"You couldn't even remember to have posted it!"

Then she smacks lightly his arm, and nears another forkful of cake to his mouth – it's whipped cream and strawberries, this time, and suddenly his mouth is all white and red of cream.

"Ah, is that so?" he says, outraged, and takes a spoon – tries to splay cream on her lips as well, but she turns her head all of a sudden, and he dirties her cheek instead. "Ops, sorry," he grins, and she narrows her eyes.

Before she can say a word, however –

"Oh, aren't you two a-do-ra-ble," tweets that woman's voice from behind them, and they turn in sync, mouths still dangerously unclean. Regina catches a glimpse of Robin trying to wipe away the white-and-red mix with his hand, and thoughts about how she should as well cross her mind, but she's too frozen in place to do it herself.

"I wanted to tell you, darlings, that we need your names to put you on our list –"

"I'm – I'm sorry, what list?" he asks, and the world stands still for a heartbeat.

Oh, shit.

"Well the list of all the couples of course, to contact you before the wedding – to pay for all this and to make agreements about the definitive cake you'll eat at the ceremony!"

Regina widens her eyes, and her heart skips a beat – is that even possible? What part of the word free isn't clear? – and oh, now the silence is getting embarrassing – she'd elbow Robin if she could, he's not reacting. She should have read the link in her post better, she shouldn't have just thrown herself into this, but he was so… tempting, and…

Her mind drifts from that morning in class – back to the present.

"Oh, sure, the list," she takes a breath and answers the woman. "We'll be thrilled to be a part of the list – just let me go to the bathroom to clean up this mess, alright?"

The woman nods eagerly, and beams again – doesn't suspect a thing, but Robin is still not moving and she has to drag him away from the table. She feels the woman's eyes on her, and maybe she suspects something?

Now, he's looking at her, throws a glance at the woman, and she thinks he'll screw this up if he keeps acting like this – so she decides, in a split second, and pushes on her tiptoes and nears her lips to his. Inclines her head so that her words can't be read, and whispers Follow me outside when she's not looking. He nods, a knowing smile on his mouth, but the woman is probably still watching – so, for good measure, she presses a kiss on the corner of his lips.

His hand finds hers, and they lock eyes for a moment, before turning their heads and smiling to the woman, who's now satisfied, because she nods and smiles and diverts her gaze.

"Now," Regina hisses, and they half-walk half-rush towards the door, throwing glances behind their shoulders – then they are outside, and a laugh blossoms from the deep of her belly and they're running, hand in hand, around the corner, and they stop , panting and laughing.

"Well that was close," he smiles, and Regina doesn't answer, just brings up a hand to her forehead, adrenaline still running through her veins.

"God, this is the last time I listen to you," she smiles, and he shakes his head.

"Well, I hope it won't be the last – you have some –" his hand flies up to her face, wiping away the remnants of his little revenge, but then, he doesn't take it off from her skin… "– cream here," he ends, and his hand is warm against her cheek.

"Thanks," she whispers, lost momentarily in his eyes. Then, she clears her throat, and his hand leaves her cheek. He blinks, and clears his throat too.

"Listen, would you… like a coffee? To remedy this cake-disaster?" he offers, and she ponders the question for a moment, before nodding.

"Okay, yes," she agrees, and the way his eyes light up… it has her heart warming and her cheeks flush.
"But you pay."