When Robin next saw Regina, she was in much higher spirits. She told him eagerly that she and Marco had worked together to make what they called a customer satisfaction survey to gauge how much the efforts of all the staff- especially her- were appreciated by their patrons, and if there was anything they could do to improve.
Robin, of course, immediately filled one out, folding it and putting it in the jar they had set aside for the purpose of collecting survey responses. Once he had done that, he crossed his arms, placing them on the counter in front of Regina. "How's it going so far? Have you gotten a lot of responses?" She nodded, and he cocked an eyebrow. "Well? What have people said?"
She shrugged. Honestly, I have no idea. I haven't looked at any of the responses. For one thing, I'm not one of the managers, and for another…"
Robin sighed, having a feeling he knew where she was going with the end of her sentence. "You don't want to know."
"Of course I don't," she affirmed, her fears voiced by someone else seeming to give her the courage to say them out loud herself. "What if these surveys only confirm what I've known all along: that no one sees the work I do, that everything I do is for nothing in the end?"
"It is worth something, to a lot of people, not just you and me," he reassured her. "I'm sure of it. Even without these surveys, it's very evident to everyone around you that the library would fall apart without you."
"I'll believe it when I see it," she muttered, and Robin's heart went out to her. He knew for sure that these surveys would help Regina see just how much she brought to her workplace, but he had to find a way to make sure that that was the case- and had already done what he could to make sure of that. John and Marian were coming to fill out the survey, and while he didn't really have other friends to fill out the survey, three more surveys that reflected answers that were in Regina's favor were better than none, right?
Though he was happy that there would at least be some surveys that would benefit Regina, he knew he shouldn't reveal his plan to her. If he had to guess, her independent nature would balk at the idea of her helping him even a little bit. Considering how he was assisting her, there was a possibility that she would even accuse him of cheating, and of course, he didn't want that. All he could do was proceed with his plan in secret and hope that she didn't figure out what he was doing- and in the meantime, continue to woo her as he had been doing ever since they met.
"I'm sure you'll see it soon," he assured her with a soft smile. "In the meantime…" he trailed off. Was she ready for this? Only one way to find out… "Would you like to go on a date with me? Grab a cup of coffee, perhaps?" He didn't want her to feel pressured to do anything, of course. He hoped that offering to meet for coffee was low-key enough of a date suggestion that she would accept his invitation, and he waited with bated breath to find out if his guess was correct.
She smirked, her eyes gleaming with a mirth that he had only seen when she had interacted with the children, especially when she had led storytime the week before. "You really want to go on a date with me, of all people?"
"Of course," he replied with a smile. "You don't see anyone else here by the name of Regina, do you?" He tried not to visibly wince at his unfortunate choice of words. Hopefully she didn't catch wind of his reaction, or she would start asking questions, questions about things he didn't want her to look too closely into. She needed to never find out about Roni, that much he knew for sure. He had made a promise to Granny that he wouldn't hurt Regina, and he intended to keep that promise.
She sighed, and she opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Tink. "Regina, go out with him already. You know you want to, and it's clear he's going nowhere until you do. It's time for you to take a second chance on love, and Robin is that chance."
Regina glared at her, her gaze so severe that Robin wondered how Tink was standing her ground- but at the same time, he was glad she was. Regina needed someone in her life like Tink who would help her see the good in her life, as well as make sure that she took chances on things and believed in herself and that she could have good things happen to her. "Tink, would you stay out of this? Please?"
Tink grinned. "Only if you at least promise you'll think about it. I don't want to force you to do anything of course- in fact, I know better than anyone that I can't. However, I do want to at least encourage you to take a chance. Please?"
She left them then, Robin still nervously waiting for Regina's answer- and debating whether or not he was thankful to Tink. On the one hand, she clearly supported Regina and wanted what was best for her, and she needed more of that in her life. However, he knew that forcing Regina to do anything, or even trying to, wasn't a good idea. Although he also couldn't imagine Regina letting anyone make her do anything- with the exception of Ms. Blue, of course. It made him wonder why she always caved to the older woman's every whim. Yes, she worked there, so she was her boss, but still… there was a fine line between completely caving to someone's every desire and standing up for what was right.
"Fine," she said, turning toward him. "I accept your invitation. Don't make me regret it."
"Of course not, milady," he quickly assured her, bowing before her. "I wouldn't dream of it."
They made arrangements, exchanging numbers (much to Robin's relief- he had longed to just be able to text her on any given day just to tell her good morning or tell her he hoped she had a good day for days now, if not weeks. He would, of course, also be texting her to ask her opinion on his plans for the date, to make sure his proposed activities would be to her liking.
He left the library with a spring in his step. Things were finally looking up for his relationship with Regina… and he couldn't wait to see where this date would lead them. Now he just had to figure out what to do on their date…
After a lot of thought and consideration for what Regina might like to do- as well as input from the woman in question- Robin had finally decided on a venue for their date. He had plans for afterward as well, hopeful that the date would go well and Regina would want to spend more time together.
The one thing he did have to make sure of, though, was that Roni was nowhere around them when they were out. It would be catastrophic (to say the least) if Regina ever saw her, or even just found out about her. He knew things like this had a habit of coming to light whether people wanted them to or not, but still- it was always better to be cautious with these things. He always believed it was better to be safe than sorry, and anything regarding Regina was no exception. After all, it had taken him ages to get her to agree to go on a date with him- he wouldn't want to do anything else to hinder the date's success.
The night of his first date with Regina, Robin spent an ungodly- or rather, unmanly- amount of time figuring out what he was going to wear for their date. From the moment he had first set eyes on her, he had known that Regina was always immaculately dressed, with not a single hair out of place. Because of that, he knew that showing up to their date dressed in jeans, let alone sweatpants, wouldn't go well at all- to say the least! However, they were just going to meet for a cup of coffee, so it wasn't a good venue for a suit and tie either. He may be an artist, and the expression "dress to impress" existed for a reason, but that would be going too far overboard even for him.
Having finally settled on an outfit, he glanced at the time and silently cursed his indecisiveness. He was running late, and he knew for a fact that that wouldn't bode well for making a good impression on his date at all. Just as she was always dressed well, Regina, he had heard from Tink and Marco, was never late for anything.
He raced out of his house, eager to be as punctual as humanly possible. He would be the first to admit that he broke several traffic laws trying to get to the coffee shop on time. The whole time he was weaving in and out of traffic, he wondered why on earth he hadn't just made the effort to walk to his destination. After all, it was only a few blocks away. He would definitely have gotten to the coffee shop much faster if he had just used his own two feet instead of driving.
He glanced at the watch that was a permanent fixture on his wrist. It had been a gift from Marian, who had told him on the day he received it that he would no longer have an excuse for being late ever again. He silently cursed his errant mind, the world he got himself lost in when he started painting. That was what was to blame for his constant tardiness, and he hoped Regina would forgive him.
When he came up to the door of the coffee shop, he glanced in the clear glass of the door, trying to see if his date had arrived yet. To his relief, he didn't see her in there, and he walked in purposefully, but overall he felt a little more relaxed than he had before.
He entered and started looking around for a place where they could sit. To his dismay, most of the booths and tables he saw were full, and he began looking in earnest for someone who looked like he or she was leaving.
He kept looking everywhere, but nothing.
His eyes went wide when he spotted a young woman sitting at one of the tables. She had dark hair in a style that was more than familiar to him, because he saw it every day. It seemed that Regina had gotten to the coffee shop before him after all.
Assuming an expression that he hoped was sufficiently apologetic, he approached her. "Is this seat taken?"
Her lips formed an expression that was both a smile and a frown. He suddenly wished it was a smirk, that he had started off the date with a witty remark that did not get accompanied by an example of his habitual tardiness. "That depends. Are you in the habit of arriving late everywhere you go? Even on dates?"
His shoulders slumped. "I apologize, milady. It's an occupational hazard of being an artist, I'm afraid."
Her eyebrows rose. "You're an artist?"
"Well, in my spare time," he said, suddenly inexplicably shy. He didn't have many opportunities to discuss his hobby or share it with others, after all. "I'm a freelance writer during the day."
"Interesting," she mused, resting her chin on one hand. She gestured toward the seat across from her. "Take a seat, Mr. Locksley."
Grateful that his tardiness hadn't cost him too dearly, he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down, just as she had instructed. He scrambled for a topic that wasn't her work- he had seen her at her work for the most part, after all, and he knew enough to know that it wasn't always the best subject, even on the best of days. Before he could come up with something, though, she asked, "So you write for a living, but you draw in your spare time? How does that fit? Or are you just a man of many talents?"
"Guilty," he admitted in a tone that he hoped came across as humble. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he was arrogant. "I've always enjoyed doing both. While I love writing, I don't want to do it all the time- in fact, I can't do it all the time. My brain is only awake enough to create something worth sharing for a certain amount of time each day."
She raised an eyebrow. "And drawing- painting, sculpting, whatever medium you use- doesn't require a more alert brain? I would have thought it required more or less the same amount of brain power to create something worth sharing."
"It- well, it does," he admitted. "But it's a different kind of creativity, if that makes sense, as it's two completely different ways of thinking."
"Stretching different muscles," she murmured, and he nodded.
"Exactly. Painting is a lot more flexible too. With writing, I'm always concerned about the different grammar rules and that kind of thing, but with drawing, it's easier to go with the flow."
She nodded. "So what do you think is your best work?"
He paused. In the midst of all of his worrying about what to wear, he hadn't even considered that he would be asked this question. The portrait of her was his best by far, of course, but he couldn't tell her about it, let alone Roni…
Or could he? He could explain that he had seen her and Henry that day by the fountain and decided to draw her. That much was innocent, the average methods of a painter to paint things they saw in their daily lives, right? He didn't need to bring up Roni at all. That way, his answer would be honest, but not to the point of causing the disaster he feared would happen if the two women ever crossed paths.
Hoping his caution didn't reveal itself in his tone, he answered, "Actually, the best painting I've ever done is one of you." He could see the rising panic in her eyes, the way she leaned away from him and started to rise, and he quickly went on to explain the circumstances. "I had seen you and Henry by the fountain in the square, and quite frankly, milady, I thought you were beautiful- and I still think that, even more so now that I know you a little," he added, his eyes pleading when he looked up at her from where his eyes had fallen to the table in front of him. "I realize it may seem a bit intrusive, maybe even as if I'm a stalker, but can you forgive an artist for simply painting something- someone- who inspired him? That's all I wanted- no more, no less."
She sighed as she looked down at him and slowly sank back down to sit in her chair again. "This was before we had met, I assume."
He nodded. "Of course, asking you if I could use you as the subject of my painting was out of the question under the circumstances."
She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I can understand that. I'm sure you know by now that that wouldn't have gone well for you, to say the least."
He nodded. "Of course. You're a private person, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that."
She sighed. "Then I guess I can forgive you- under one condition."
"What's that?" he asked, already anticipating what her request would be.
Sure enough, when her mouth opened once more, she said the words that sent a whole host of butterflies swooping through his stomach. "I want to see the painting you claim is your greatest masterpiece."
"Of course," he readily acquiesced, suggesting, "Would you like to come over now?"
She looked at the watch on her wrist- classy, just like everything else he knew about her, he noted- and shook her head. "I can't. I have somewhere I need to be in an hour, and by the time I drive for the time it takes to get there…"
"Say no more," he assured her with a wave of his hand. "Just know that it's an open invitation, an offer that's there anytime you'd like to take me up on it. Do you need to leave now?"
"Unfortunately yes," she sighed, rising from her chair. "I've enjoyed myself, I really have. Maybe next time, I won't be the one asking all the questions?"
"Of course not," he quickly assured her. "I want to know everything there is to know about Regina Mills. May I escort you to your car?"
"It's broad daylight, I can walk there on my own," she muttered, her eyes flicking up from where she was fishing in her bag for her keys before extracting them and slinging her bag over her shoulder. He frowned, but before she could say anything, she added, "But I wouldn't say no to spending a little more time- as much time as we can- together. I've enjoyed this."
"Me too," he responded in kind, gathering their empty cups and walking them to the nearest trash can. "So does this mean I can see you again?"
She leaned toward him, the apple and vanilla scent of her perfume intoxicating, leading his thoughts nowhere they should be wandering- at least, not on a first date, and not before she was ready. "You'd better."
He walked with her to her car, and as she drove away, he couldn't help grinning from ear to ear. One thing was for sure: he would never regret meeting Regina Mills.