Regina sprayed her hair one last time, making sure the bun was well in place.

Gathering up her briefcase and phone, she made her way out her bedroom door and through her sitting room to the hall. The elevator opened immediately, and, pressing the button for the ground floor, she shoved her briefcase under her arm and began scrolling through her email account.

There were a few since the previous work day, but she was relieved to find that most of them were standard announcements that came through the foundation listserv.

She was certain that would be change soon, though. With this event coming up everyone was sure to be running around like chickens with their heads cut off as soon as the work day started.

The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped out making her way across the foyer.

"Regina," a voice stopped her in her tracks.

Pausing, she lowered her phone and turned, "Mother, you're up very early."

"So are you," Cora commented, waiting expectantly.

"There's a lot of work to be done for the foundation's annual gala. I thought it wouldn't hurt to make an early start this week," she explain.

"Are there any problems?" her mother asked.

"No, Mother, everything is on track," Regina answered, "Just a busy time of year."

"You're certain?"

"Yes, Mother," she said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone.

"Hm," Cora hummed, "You're wearing your hair up."

"Yes?" Regina nodded confused.

"It looks a bit frizzy."

She swallowed, suspecting where this conversation was going.

"I thought I told you that you should get it straightened?"

"Yes," she answered, "I will, Mother, I just couldn't get an appointment until later this week."

"You'll have it done by the gala, though?" her mother asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, Mother."

She nodded, "Good. Have a good day, Dear."

"Thank you," Regina said, hoping she didn't sound as tired as she felt, "You too, Mother."

With that, Cora continued on her way to her office.

Taking a deep breath, Regina continued to the front door and made her way down the steps outside. Glancing around, she found that there were no cars in sight.

She checked her watch. Whoever was supposed to be her assigned security that morning was late.

Sighing in annoyance, she turned back inside, walked over to the elevator, and rode it down to the basement level.

Making her way around to the security conference room, she found it empty. Checking the whiteboard where assignments were written, she looked who was assigned to her that day.

Locksley.

It figured. Why did it have to be him?

This week was stressful enough for her without having to deal with that man too! He was irritatingly opinionated. She really didn't want to deal with whatever he might think of the gala or all the preparation that went into it.

He'd probably think it was just a circus of egos.

Rolling her eyes, Regina turned from the conference room, nearly bumping into one of the other security team.

"Miss Mills?" he asked, "Are you alright? Did you need some help?"

Glancing up at the tall man, she recalled his name, "Yes, do you happen to know where Locksley is? I need to go into work early today."

"Ah..." he thought for a moment, "...last I saw him he was in the gym."

"Thank you, Lot," she said, continuing down the hall to the staff gym. The main room was entirely empty, which left only the pool or the locker room. Hoping for former, she walked across the room to the door leading to the pool.

The air inside was thickly humid, and smelled strongly of sweat and chlorine.

Wrinkling her nose, she turned the corner into the pool area, stopping in her tracks as she caught sight of the person she'd been looking for. He was in the pool, and she'd caught him either at exactly the right or exactly the wrong moment depending on how one looked at it.

Specifically right as he was pulling himself out of the pool.

Involuntarily her lips dropped open at the sight of the man emerging from the water, taking in all at once the dark ink tattoos that she hadn't known he had, how his muscles flexed as he lifted himself onto the ledge, and the copious amounts of water that fell off him creating a puddle on the floor.

She wasn't sure whether to worry that he might shake dry like a dog, or notice that his white swim trunks were very see-through when wet, and, shit, he was looking right at her...right at her as she was staring at him!

Quickly shaking herself, she turned around clearing her throat.

"Miss Mills?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, turning back to him, "I understand you're my assigned security again?"

"Yes," Locksley answered, "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," she said firmly, "It's just that I'll need to be going in an hour early every day this week."

"I see. I'm sorry, no one told me that," he answered, placing one hand on his hip, the action inadvertently dragging the waistband of his trunks a little further down.

"Um...it's fine," she answered, tearing her eyes back to his face quickly, "Just please try to remember from now on."

He nodded, "Will do. If you give me a few minutes to change, I'll bring the car around out front?"

"Thank you." she answered turning on her heel and making her way out of the pool area. She was grateful for the blast of cool air that hit her as she stepped back into the main gym.. That damned pool was far too over-heated. She could feel sweat forming at the small of her back and along her bra-line, threatening to stain the silk blouse she was wearing.

With a deep sigh, she slung the strap on her briefcase over her shoulder and quickly hurried back to the elevator.

The biggest week for the year for the Mills Foundation, and she was already getting off to a stressful start!

Why did it have to be him of all people?

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

"Mrs. Fa?" Regina called pushing open the double doors to the cooking area.

The woman in question stood up from closing the oven, "Yes?"

"Do you have moment?" she asked.

"Sure," the old woman said, drying her hands on a towel, "Let's go sit outside."

Leading the way back out to the outer kitchen, Mrs. Fa poured herself a glass of water and sat down at the table with a sign, "Now, what was it you needed to speak to me about?"

Regina slid down into the chair next to her, "That friend I told you about. The immigration attorney. She sent over some paperwork for you to sign. It's your acceptance form for naturalization through the amnesty program. You just have to provide returns proving you've paid your taxes during the time you've been in Misthaven and consent to a background check."

Mrs. Fa sighed, reaching into the pocket of her apron and pulling out a set of wire rimmed glasses. Looking the forms over, she grumbled, "More paperwork."

"I know it's a lot," Regina said, "But once you get everything done you'll be eligible to become a citizen of Misthaven."

The older woman sighed, "I've been in this country 45 years and I'm still considered illegal."

"I know," she answered, "Wouldn't it be nice not to worry anymore?"

"Yes," Mrs. Fa admitted grudgingly, picking up the pen. When the last one was signed, she thrust the pen and papers back into Regina's hands and grumbled, "Maybe next time you could try bringing a handsome man instead of paperwork for a change!"

Regina laughed, sarcastically responding, "Oh? And where exactly do you expect me to find one of those?"

Before Mrs. Fa could open her mouth to respond, the backdoor from the terrace opened and Robin Locksley jogged in. He was dressed in loose shorts and a white t-shirt, and had earbuds in. Barely sparing them a glance, he walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. After taking a sizable gulp, he seemed to notice the two women watching him from the table.

Pulling out the earbuds he said, "Hello…everything alright here?"

"Everything's fine," Regina answered firmly, snatching the papers up and stuffing them into her briefcase, "I was just discussing a personal matter with Mrs. Fa."

The older woman rolled her eyes, "No need for the cloak and dagger. Miss Mills helping me apply for citizenship through the amnesty program."

His eyes immediately jumped to Regina's face, studying her quietly.

"That gonna be an issue?!" Mrs. Fa demanded.

Snapping out of his thoughts, he turned to her, "What? No! Of course, not. Why would it be?"

The chef huffed, "Most folks have a lot of opinions about amnesty, and they aren't shy about sharing them!"

Robin tapped the lid against his water bottle and answered, "Well if you're asking mine, I believe that anyone who wants amnesty should have the chance."

"I wasn't asking!" Mrs. Fa answered bruskly before relaxing her posture and winking, "Though, I appreciate the support. Thanks, son."

He smiled back, "Always, Mrs. Fa. I was just a little surprised..."

He trailed off glancing at Regina again.

Looking up at him she asked, "By me?"

"No, I-"

"Regina's helped me work my way toward citizenship years!" Mrs. Fa jumped in, "She's gone above and beyond just to help an old woman who works in her kitchen! I'll never find a nicer girl than this one, I promise you that!"

Regina felt her cheeks at the open and effusive praise.

"I'm sure I won't," he answered.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Regina asked.

"Nothing," he answered, "I think what you're doing is very nice."

She rose from the table, picking up her briefcase, "I have some work to do before the gala tonight."

"Wait, I didn't-" Robin started, but she was already halfway out the door.

Mrs. Fa looked up at him from the table, "If that's your idea of charming, I can see why you're still single."

As the diminutive chef made her way back into the cooking area, he sighed, tapping the cap against his water bottle.

Tucking his earbuds into his pocket slowly made his way back out for a cool down stroll around the terrace.

At the corner of one of the flower beds, Marco, the gardener, was pushing over a wheelbarrow full of sacks of potting soil.

He smiled, "Hey Marco."

"Ah, Robin," the older man waved, "How are you today?"

"I'm alright," he answered, "Do you need some help with that?"

"No, no. I have everything under control," Marco waved him off, "Are you working this gala tonight?"

"Yes," he sighed, "I'm assigned Ms. Mills all week."

"Shouldn't you be getting ready then?" Marco asked.

He had a point. Robin was going to need to shower and change into a fresh suit before driving Regina into the city for this event, and then get through an entire evening without accidentally offending her again.

That moment back in the kitchen had almost lead to another blow up between them, and he really wanted to avoid that.

Letting out a breath he nodded, "Yeah, I should be. Are you sure you're okay here?"

Marco nodded decisively, "Yes. Go! You're going to be late!"

"You're right," Robin agreed, knowing he couldn't postpone the inevitable any longer.

With that he made his way down to the staff locker room to take a quick shower and change into a clean suit. After combing his hair and picking up the keys to the black town car, he pulled it around to the front entrance, adjusting his tie as he waited for her.

In his pocket his phone began buzzing. Grumbling under his breath, he answered it, "Hello?"

"Robin, it's Killian."

"Killian? What's up, mate? Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just checking in. This a bad time?"

He glanced at the front door but found no sign of Regina, "No it's okay for now. How have you been?"

"Oh not too bad," the other man answered.

"Good, good. How are things at the Roger?" Robin asked.

"Picked up a bit this month."

"That's good news."

"Yeah," Killian agreed, "I'll be able to pay both Tink and Marian this month, so they're rather pleased about that!"

Robin chuckled at the joke, "Well that's great, I'm glad to hear things are doing better for you."

"Thanks, mate," Killian said, "What about you? How are you finding the job?"

As Robin opened his mouth to answer, the heavy front door swung open and Regina Mills emerged in a dark blue ball gown that clung to her to the knee before falling off into rippling waves. She turned to close the door behind her, showing of the dress' lace back framing an expanse of tan skin.

"Stunning," the word escaped escaped his lips before he realized it.

"What's that?"

Killian's confused voice echoed in his ear, causing him to snap back to reality, "Ah, nothing! Listen, I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"Alright, catch you later."

He ended the call just as Regina's high-heeled feet hit the bottom step. Walking over to the car she met his eyes, "Everything alright?"

"Yes, just friend of mine calling," he answered as he held the door open for her.

"Oh," she nodded, "Nothing wrong, I hope?"

"No," he shook his head, "He just called to say 'hi'"

She seemed satisfied with that answer, lifting the ruffled hem of her dress out of the way and sliding into the car.

"Is your father on his way? I was supposed to drive you both," Robin asked.

"No, he and Miguel already left. He decided to pick up my mother at her political office," she informed him.

"Oh," he nodded.

"I'm sorry no one told you."

"It's alright," he answered, "It's sweet that he's going to surprise her."

Regina smiled weakly. Having gotten to know Henry Mills over the past months, he wanted to ask what that was about, but figured it might be too personal, so, instead he simply closed the door behind her, walked around to the other side of the car, and set off down the drive.

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

The elevator doors slid open, and Cora stepped out, striding toward her office. As she passed her assistant's desk she barked, "Bella! I need to see you!"

Springing up the small girl hurried after her, "Um...it's Belle."

Turning Cora asked, "Excuse me?"

"It's Belle," she repeated.

Rolling her eyes, the older woman replied, "Yes, whatever. Did you pick up my gown for the gala?"

"Yes, Mrs. Mills," Belle answered quickly, "I laid it across the table in the conference room so that it wouldn't get wrinkled, and your stylist will be here in 10 minutes."

"Very good," she nodded, "What about you? Do you have anything appropriate to wear tonight?"

"Uh…tonight?" Belle stammered, "You want me to attend the gala tonight?"

Cora raised a questioning eyebrow, "Is that a problem?"

"Well...it's just that it's my father's birthday…"

"And?"

"Um...I'll just let him know I'll be a little late," Belle acquiesced.

Nodding in approval Cora stepped around to the back of her desk, "Now do you have a suitable outfit?"

"I'm sure I can come up with something."

"Just be sure you don't wear that shade of lipstick. You aren't a streetwalker," Cora added.

Belle touched her lips instinctively, but before she could answer there was a knock on the office door. Turning, the younger woman opened the door.

"Mr. Mills," she greeted, "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming."

Cora looked up in surprise, seeing her husband coming in the door already dressed in his tuxedo.

"I'm sorry, Belle," Henry said, friendly and upbeat as always, "I just came to escort my wife to the gala."

"Oh, that's so nice!" Belle gushed.

Cora, however, simply crossed her arms across her chest, "Henry."

"Hello," said to her.

"The gala doesn't start for another hour and a half."

"Yes, I know," he said, "I just thought it might be nice to drive over together."

"I still have to get ready."

He paused, "I don't mind waiting-"

"I also have several emails I need to answer before I leave tonight, and I can't focus on that with you here in the way!" she snapped, "Honestly, have I ever been late to a foundation event?"

"No, but that wasn't why-"

"So after all these years you can't trust me to keep my word? I said I'll be there, I'll be there!"

He let out a breath, deflating, "Of course you will, Cora. I'll just go and I'll see you there later."

As he turned to leave the office, Cora sat down at her desk and turned her attention to her computer.

Opening her email browser, she glanced up at Belle who was still standing on the other side of the room, "Is there anything else?!"

"Ah...no," Belle said quietly.

Cora glared at the younger woman's retreating form. She could hear the surprise, and pity, in the assistant's words, and it annoyed her very much. It wasn't as if she liked yelling at her own husband.

However, he insisted on showing up unannounced without even considering how crazy her schedule was! She simply didn't have time for him and his whims! Why was that so hard to understand?

* 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 * 0 *

Robin spent most of the night standing against the back wall of colorfully lit ballroom while Regina and Henry mingled with the rest of Misthaven's upper echelon. Most of the guests were people who the two of them obviously knew, but that he'd never heard of. However, there were a few recognizable faces, normally found on the covers of tabloids, in the crowd.

The crowd minced around sipping champagne and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres for about two hours before the lights on the front wall dipped to reveal a projection screen.

Clapping filled the room as Henry Mills took the podium. Beaming widely at the audience he nodded, motioning for quiet.

"Thank you. Thank you, everyone," he said into the microphone, "Thank you so much for coming. The Mills Foundation Gala is one of my favorite events of the year. It's so gratifying to see so many old friends, and new ones. Without you The Mills Foundation would not be possible. Everything we do here is possible because of your faith and your support. So I would like to propose a toast...to another successful year!"

The crowd followed his lead, raising their glasses in unison and giving Henry another round of applause.

Setting down his glass, Henry smiled, "Alright, now to give an overview of the foundation's philanthropic goals for the upcoming year, I'm very pleased to present my lovely daughter, Regina."

After the expected applause, Regina stepped up to take her father's place at the podium.

"Thank you," she said, the screen behind her dissolving into the title slide of a presentation, "Don't worry, I'll keep it short."

The room tittered with laughter at the remark. Even Robin felt the side of his mouth quirk. As he watched her speak, he could tell that the smile stretched across her deep red lips was a mask...but it was a very effective mask. As she spoke about the foundation's various charitable projects she was poised and self-assured, with just the right amount of self-deprecation to be charming. She practically had the whole room eating out of the palm of her hand.

He was also interested to not that that her presentation included discussion of several public health campaigns targeting rural areas of Misthaven that had been struggling economically the past few years.

That was somewhat surprising. It seemed like usually wealthy types preferred sexier, feel-good, if dubiously effective, efforts overseas...far removed from their everyday lives.

Even more surprising, as she spoke about some of the issues they planned to address, there were moments when her mask slipped and he could hear genuine passion in her voice. Apparently really did care about what she was doing.

As her speech came to an end, the audience applauded and Henry retook the podium.

"Thank you. Well, as many of you know, The Mills Foundation is also a patron of the arts. We have several performers tonight, starting with a reading by the esteemed poet, Jafar of Agraba."

The man who came up to take the stage looked like a walking prop. He was dressed in a long robe and turban with feathers, resembling a parody of his home country's traditional garb. He was even carrying a gold staff in the shape of a cobra.

As the audience applauded, the man, nose scraping the ceiling, signaled for silence which he got immediately. Standing up straight he closed his eyes as deep flute music started droning from orchestra.

After a few long moments he started reciting a rhythmic ballad about the wounds of modern society, using his staff to point at various audience members who, amazingly, seemed downright delighted by the biting criticism in his words. As he went on he got more and more worked up, using one long, spidery finger slicing through the air as he punctuated his words and the feathers on his turban swaying erratically in a way reminiscent of an angry peacock.

Robin chewed his lip, looking away from the stage in an effort to suppress the urge to snicker at the over-the-top display.

Coincidentally, he happened to glance toward Regina, who was subtly hiding her own smirk behind her knuckle. As their eyes met, however, he saw her bite down hard on her lip and push her chair back from the table.

Keeping her head bowed low, she subtly made her way to the exit. Robin trailed behind her, keeping pace without rushing.

She pushed open and door to the small rock garden in the foundation courtyard. As soon as the door swung fully closed behind them, they glanced at each other for a moment before breaking into laughter.

"Oh wow," he commented when they settled down, "That was...interesting."

She laughed again, "Not a big poetry fan, Locksley?"

He shrugged, "I can't see myself ever being a big fan of that kind of poetry."

"Well I can't blame you for that," she admitted, "I met Jafar at least year's gala...not an experience I care to repeat. If you're wondering, he is just as melodramatic in person."

"Sorry to hear that," he answered.

She smiled for a moment before seeming to catch herself. Clearing her throat, she strolled further into the garden.

Robin thought for a moment before speaking, "What you said in there…"

She turned to face him, waiting expectantly.

"It was nice. What you're doing...it's really great."

She stood for a moment before answering, "Thank you."

"Also…" he went on slowly, "...about earlier at the estate. What Mrs. Fa said?"

She stiffened, but he continued anyway, "I didn't mean anything by what I said. I'm sorry if I upset you."

"It's fine," she brushed off the apology.

"Is it?" he pressed.

"Well, to be honest, you come off a bit judgemental at times."

He nodded, "Okay well...I guess I can see how I might have been."

She took in the acknowledgement with mild surprise, "What was it you wanted to say to me?"

"Basically the same thing," he admitted.

She sighed, "Fair enough. Wouldn't be the first time I've heard that."

At that they fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Finally Regina spoke, "I guess we both had some preconceived notions about each other."

"Yeah," he acknowledged, "Look, I know we said we'd keep things strictly professional, but I feel like not talking just makes things worse. Maybe we'd get along better if we did try to get to know each other a little better?"

Her eyebrows jumped, "You mean like be friends?"

He sighed, "Never mind, forget I said anything-"

"Wait!" she protested, "I didn't say "no"! I think...well, you're right, maybe trying to be on better terms might be a good idea."

He couldn't help but smile at the measured statement.

Standing quietly, she asked, "Alright so...how do we go about this?"

"Well, you could start by calling me Robin," he suggested, "If you'd like."

"Ah," she nodded, "Yes, that makes sense. And, um, you can call me Regina. Most of the staff, other than Drake and a few others, do anyway. You don't need to call me Ms. Mills all the time. Unless my mother is around, of course."

"Alright," he agreed, meeting her eyes, "I appreciate that, Regina."

Shifting under his gaze, she drew herself up, "Well, I should be getting back. If I'm gone too long my parents will notice."

"Of course," he stepped over to open the door, and motioned for her to go in ahead of him.