After they decide to adopt Henry, Robin and Regina get ready for their first home visit from the social worker.
Robin walked in the living room, two ties in hand, and narrowed his eyes at the decorative pillows on the couch. They were red and green with festive saying stitched onto their surfaces, which is interesting considering that thirty minutes ago they'd been pink with embroidered flowers. He sighed when he realized that his wife had changed them for the fourth time this week.
He saw her kneeling in the center of their closet, digging through a box of their old holiday decorations desperately pulling out a wreath and looking up at him wide eyes.
"We should've got a tree!" she breathlessly declares.
He doesn't even have a second to respond before she's standing up and walking past him, looking around the living in distress. Her grip on the wreath tightens as she shakes her head. "It's the end of November and we still don't have any decorations up. She's gonna think we're joyless heathens if we don't have any decorations."
Throwing his ties onto the couch, he gently pulls the wreath from her. "Regina… take a breath."
She softly groans, when her husband rests his hands on her shoulders. "Robin…"
"Just three seconds," he instructs, in a soothing tone.
Reluctantly she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, feeling the tension in her chest grow loose as she does. Robin reaches out to caress her cheek as she does, breathing along with her. "Better?"
She nods. "Yes," she admits. "I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous."
"Me too," he says, lightly running his fingers through her hair. "I spent the last twenty minutes trying to decide which tie to wear. And you know I only have three."
She chuckles, finally offering up a small smile. Like always, his heart leaps at the sight of it.
"I really don't want to screw this up," she whispers.
"Me neither," he replies. "But remember, this home visit it's just one more step."
"A big one," she insists. "Robin, what if she doesn't like us?"
"She will like us," he confidently promises. "We've been preparing for this for months. The house is beautiful and clean… and ready for a baby."
She'd been fretting about meeting the social worker for weeks. It was the last step before they're officially put on the adoption list. The faith in his words soothes her nerves but it's not enough to completely calm her fears.
"What if they choose to give him to someone else?" she whispers.
"They are not gonna give him to someone else." His voice is firm, assured as if he was laying down the law. "Henry is meant to be our son. And she'll see that."
His heart races as he thinks of the little boy still stuck in the NICU, still healing from the crash that had orphaned him and waiting to be brought home. The minute they'd seen him together they'd known that he was their baby. It was just a fact. One that they simply needed to prove to others.
He presses a kiss to her cheek. "Now… if I put away this wreath will you pick my tie, please."
"Yes," she says, nodding her head, returning a kiss to his lips.
Five minutes later, the wreath is returned to the closet and a tie is around his neck. They went with the red, to match her dress. Sitting on the couch, they hold hands as they wait for the social worker to arrive, standing in unison when they finally hear the doorbell ring.
Turning to her, he squeezes her hand. "Ready?"
She nods. "Ready."
Together they open the door.
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