Time didn't seem to hold meaning when he woke. He knew it was the next day. Was it morning? Afternoon? Had they slept the entire day away and been brought into night? Robin couldn't tell, nor did he particularly care. What he did care about, however, was that the warm body that had been tangled with his own was no longer there. The heat still clung to the blanket that they had slept upon, so she hadn't left too long ago. Robin took a moment to collect his bearings. His body was still a little sluggish after all she had put him through the night prior.

It was rather easy to say that he had never quite had sex like that before. He hadn't slept so soundly in ages. Yawning, he finally pushed himself up. Another blanket was carefully tucked around him, as if Regina had wanted to make sure he was still covered even after she had gotten up. Underneath the blanket, he was still quite naked. Rubbing his eyes, Robin yawned again and got up, collecting his clothes. His trousers were pulled on, and then his undershirt. Where was she hiding?

Stumbling towards the hall, he found her on the stairs, putting her shoes on. She noticed him and gave him a warm smile. "He's awake."

Her tone suggested that he had, indeed, slept quite late. "Good . . .erm . . . morning?" he questioned, trying to piece together the time by the amount of daylight shining down the stairs.

"Afternoon," she corrected with a gentle smile.

"Mm," he nodded and brushed his hand through his hair, which was slightly messy from sleep and play. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long," he said, moving towards her. The desire to be near her was even more prominent after what they had shared. If he was addicted before . . . bloody hell was he in trouble now.

"Not long, no," Regina assured him, finishing her shoes and standing.

Robin immediately closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. His eyes were warm . . . happy . . . but they barely reflected what he felt. There was never a moment in his life when he felt more content and complete than he did now. "I don't know about you, but I'm famished. Must have worked up quite the appetite last night," he hinted, grinning when he saw her knowing smirk. "How about I cook you a nice breakfast at the camp?" he suggested.

"That sounds perfect," she whispered, but he saw the look in her eyes. "But I don't think it would be appropriate," she finished. Robin nodded lightly, the harsh stab of reality trying to break the delicate bubble of love and perfection they were taking shelter within. His hands held her closer to him, refusing to let go just yet. Regina sighed heavily. "If only I had walked into that tavern."

A chuckle left his lips. "I was just a drunk with a tattoo then. I highly doubt I would have been able to capture your heart." He'd had to live a life before he could become the man he was now. Had Regina met the man he was before, she'd have been sorely disappointed.

"Still," she murmured, looking down at the tattoo emblazoned on his wrist. "I can't help but think what our lives would have been like if I had. No evil curse. No evil at all. Every mistake I made would have never existed."

Robin caught her eye, holding it firmly. "You made mistakes," he agreed. "But you're learning from them. You're making amends. That takes an incredible sort of person to be able to do that. Most just prefer to bury their heads. Or never change at all. You chose the harder path . . . the right one," he told her. "And I admire the hell out of you for it," he whispered a tad passionately before bringing her to him and kissing her soundly. He felt her sigh and relax in his arms, kissing him back tenderly. Robin lightly moved his hand to her cheek, brushing over the warm skin. Pulling back, he added softly, "we met when our souls were ready to meet. It couldn't have happened any other time. It wouldn't have been right."

Regina scoffed. "This is right?" she gestured around them.

"It isn't perfect," Robin conceded. "But we are. And besides, in that universe, you'd have never been a mother to Henry." Regina seemed to agree with that, giving a small nod. The thief was silent after that, just content in holding her. His heart warmed when she pressed a small kiss to his nose. She was . . . amazing.

But then she pulled away from him. "Even without the obstacle of Marian . . . something would likely always get in our way, anyway. I was destined to fail. Make mistakes. Be the villain." Robin gave her a confused look, and so she took his hand and led him back into the main section of the vault. She pulled out the book he had seen her reading earlier. "Do you know what this is?" she asked, handing the book to him. Robin shook his head, opening it up. His brow furrowed when he saw the contents. It was . . . his own story. He knew this part. He had lived it. Seen it with his own eyes . . . when Will had first joined their company . . .

It was risky . . . but when was thieving never risky? Besides, there was that old saying: No risk, no reward! Robin pulled the stained and worn hood over his head. He was disguised as an old, feeble man, hunched over his walking stick. A large, fake nose was plastered over his own, and he had a long wig of silver and grey hair. Unrecognizable . . . or at least he hoped so.

Robin gave a nod to Little John who started pushing his cart of vegetables. It had rained the night before—exactly as they had hoped—and the town's square was riddled with muddy holes. Their target—a lord with a penchant for flogging those who could not pay his demanding taxes—was crossing the market to the stalls selling fine jewelry. The fancy lord could buy quite a few pieces of jewelry, no doubt, with the riches he stole from his people. His time was due.

Little John drove his cart quickly over to the lord, and Robin began to hobble over. Perfectly timed, the cart fell into a large puddle, splashing the lord with muddy water. At that same second, Robin bumped into the lord, quickly cutting his purse and shoving it down the long arm of his robe. "Oh, begging yer pardon, m'lord," Robin cried, bowing low.

The lord, who had already started shouting at Little John, turned his fury on Robin. "Get out of my sight, you weak-minded fool! Can you not see the damage this ingrate has done to my person!?" Robin was just about to sneak away with their goods—a job well done—when another voice cried out.

"My lord! That man has stolen from you!" Robin froze, turning to the voice. A soldier was rushing over to them, obviously having seen the entire spectacle. Where had he been!? Why hadn't anyone seen him? Robin clenched his jaw as the lord stopped screaming at Little John and turned to Robin instead. As the townspeople rushed forward to see what the commotion was about, Robin took a few steps back, trying to swallow himself up with the crowd. "HALT!" the soldier shouted after him, and other soldiers came hurrying forward to keep him from escaping.

Robin was about to signal an attack when a familiar face brought him pause. Those eyebrows . . . how could he forget those? Will Scarlet! The man winked at Robin, and he felt a brief tug at his arm. Will had pickpocketed him instead. The coin purse was removed from his person. Robin gave himself up to the soldiers immediately. "I've dun nothin' wrong!" he declared, holding his hands up. "Search me!"

The soldiers grabbed him and shoved him back to the lord, who had just noticed that his coin purse was, indeed, missing. The soldiers patted him down, but they produced no coin purse. "See?" Robin scoffed. "Mind who yer accusin' of stealin', laddie," he poked the soldier with the muddy end of his walking stick. "Pattin' an old man like that. And wastin' yer lord's time as well! Clearly, his Lordship has forgotten his purse at home."

The lord, quite perplexed, looked down at his stained clothes. "Yes. I . . . I must have. Well, seeing as I need a new tunic, anyway . . ." he mumbled. "Release him and get back to your duties," he commanded the soldiers, before heading back in the direction of his estate. Robin was released, and he tried not to look too much in a hurry as he left the market square. Once he was at the rendezvous point—which was just on the edge of the town at the tree line—he threw off his robe and disguise.

Little John appeared through the brush. "What happened?" he asked. "Did you get the purse?"

Before Robin could reply, Will's voice sounded above them. He was perched comfortably atop a tree branch, swinging the coin purse from one finger. "You mean this?" he dropped it, Robin catching it before it hit the ground. "You're welcome for that." Will dropped down from the branch and grinned rather smugly at Robin. "Fancy meeting you here, mate. I thought you were a bartender." Will embraced him in greeting.

Robin chuckled lightly. "Well . . . I'm afraid I wasn't quite made for it. Once a thief always a thief. How are you? What are you doing here?"

Will shrugged, hooking his thumbs in his belt. "Doing what I always do . . . looking for a bit of trouble to fall into. Seems I saved you this time around though. You should keep the nose. Suits you better." They chuckled and Robin threw his arm around Will's shoulders, guiding him into the forest where the rest of his Merry Men awaited.

An idea was forming. Robin turned to Will as they walked and asked, "how would you like to put those trouble-making skills to a higher use?"

"I don't understand," Robin said, his brow furrowed. "How could anyone know this? With this much detail?"

"Because they wrote it," Regina explained to him. "He's called the Author, obviously enough. He's written all of our stories . . . and apparently . . . decided a long time ago that he was going to make me a villain." Regina placed her hand on the book. "I'm . . . trying to find him. To ask him to rewrite my story." She looked almost embarrassed to admit this.

Robin gave her a small smile. "How can I help?" he asked her. After all, if her story was going to be rewritten, then so was his to a point. A happy ending for the both of them.

"You can't," she said. "No one knows who he is or even where he is. I've been pouring over it, trying to find clues, but . . ." Regina shook her head, then lifted her chin. "Besides, we can't . . . do this. Again." Robin sighed, setting the book down. "We need to maintain distance. For real this time."

"I know," Robin said quietly. But he wasn't quite prepared to let the world outside invade their little heaven just yet. "But," he began, and she gave him a wary look, "if we stay in here," he hinted, and by the growing smile on her lips, she knew exactly where he was taking this, "then it's really just still the first time." Robin pinned her up against the wall. "Right?" He kissed her smiling mouth, their tongues slowly tangling. Heat suffused them, and that urgency to have her and be connected to her was becoming overwhelming.

Lifting her up, her hair dangling around his face, he carried her back to the makeshift bed they had made the night prior. With a low chuckle, he dropped them down on it and immediately deepened their kiss. There was little shyness or hesitance now. Hands were pulling at clothes, removing them layer-by-layer until she was spread underneath him devoid of any cover. His mouth was at her neck, finding those spots that had made her coo earlier, and he exploited them.

"Robin!" she gasped, arching underneath him, her body giving a sharp jerk of need. "Mmm," she breathed, hands moving to grip his back and the back of his head. There was little need for warm-up, he found. She was warm and wet and ready for him almost immediately. It seemed he was not the only one who had awoken with a longing for . . . more. Deftly, he spread the sensitive lips of her pussy and placed himself at her entrance.

With a gentle thrust, he was filling her, and they cried out in unison at the penetration—the return of physical connection. Robin still couldn't get over how she felt. Even if they were married, this had to be sinful. It shouldn't feel this good. "Regina," he breathed, his hips moving slowly at first, but the sharp pierce of her nails against his shoulder was enough to tell him that she was not interested in slow. Chuckling, he braced himself against their bed and looked down at her, his hips becoming a forcible piston instead.

The cries from her lips—growing higher in pitch, which was quite rare for the sultry-toned Queen—were enough to tell him that this was much better for her. Robin found himself moaning sharply with every thrust, her tight glove swallowing him deep. It was a dizzying combination of needing more and being entirely satisfied with each thrust—a chase and a resolution. Regina's nails ran down to his lower back, then boldly cupped his arse, digging in just enough to insist upon more. Robin growled low, looking at her. There was a dangerous gleam in her eye. Her message was clear—he was not to stop.

Desperately, he kissed her, their tongues and lips moving without reason or rhythm. They were bucking and heaving together frantically, the pleasure increasing to a frantic degree. Robin groaned between the kisses, feeling her bite his lower lip and hold on as he started to hammer into her. He hit somewhere right, for she released his lip to let out a sharp cry, her hips suddenly riding against him. There was an increased pulsing around him and lubrication. His lovely Queen was cumming. Robin fucked her through it, making her shake and tremble.

Each hard pulse had him steering towards his edge as well. "Regina," he panted harshly. "Oh fuck . . . love . . . I . . ."

"Go on, Robin. I need it," she whispered, moving her hands to hold his face. Robin's thrusts became erratic, and as his body tightened, the pleasure burned and became so intense, he almost backed out completely. But he raced over, groaning loudly as he released his seed inside of her, doubling the amount of wetness. His body was tense for a few more moments, and he was unaware of Regina smiling softly and petting through his hair during it.

When his orgasm released him, he was breathing heavily and feeling as though he had just ran for miles. Refocusing, he looked down at her and found her looking quite flushed and . . . smug. "What?" he chuckled, covering her neck and face in tender kisses.

"Oh, nothing. Just . . . your 'O' face is quite adorable," she laughed lightly, running her fingers through the wispy strands of his hair. Robin snorted, giving her neck a playful nip. She gasped and tensed, which made her pussy squeeze him while he was still rather inside of her. Robin moaned in response and gave her a thrust in rebuttal. This, in turn, made her moan, and she was giving him a warning look. Robin grinned innocently, and he felt her preparing to top him when . . . her phone rang.

"Are you kidding me?" Regina growled, exasperated. She reached blindly for her phone. "Oh, of course. It's Snow." Robin chuckled as she answered it, his head lowering to kiss over her breasts. Regina gave him a warning look, but Robin just responded with a cheeky wink and lightly licked at her nipple. She bit her lip, shifting underneath him as she gave a breathy, "hello?" His lips suckled the hard nipple, giving it a hard suck that made her eyes roll and body arch, but then she snapped to. "What?" she asked sharply. Robin stopped immediately, sensing her tone. Something had happened. "Is he okay? Did she hurt him?"

Henry. Something had happened to Henry. Robin pulled out of her carefully and sat between her legs, looking at her in concern. "Of course. I'll be right there." Regina hung up and immediately got off of their bed, grabbing her clothes. "Emma is losing her mind," she explained. "For whatever reason, she can't seem to control her power . . . and she just hurt Henry. He's at the Charmings' now. I need to see him."

Robin offered her her shoes, strategically sliding the storybook under the blanket with him in the process. "Of course. I understand," he told her softly. "Is he alright?"

"They said so, but it's Snow and David. And he's my son," Regina replied. Robin smiled lightly. The Mama Bear was being unleashed. He knew the sentiment well. Every scrape and bruise that Roland collected had been the near end of the world. When a child was all one had . . . their well-being was paramount. He stood, rather unabashedly in his nakedness, and helped her put on her coat.

"Don't be too angry with Emma. I'm sure she didn't mean it," he said lightly.

"We'll see about that." Regina picked up a potion from the wall. "They need a locator potion just to find her," she tucked it away in her pocket, then hesitated when she looked at him. "You're not exactly making this easy either."

Robin chuckled and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Go. Something tells me this won't be the last time we see each other." Despite their good intentions to remain apart and play the part of good, upstanding citizens. She smiled at him, then stepped back and Purple-Smoked herself out of the vault. Robin stared at the spot she had disappeared from and gave a heavy sigh. All bliss had to come to an end . . . otherwise it wouldn't be bliss.

Another look through his telescope found the guards still in their positions just below the lord's bedchambers. Robin sighed and put the telescope down. "Not yet. How much longer?"

Will, laying on his stomach beside Robin, checked the sky. "They always switch at midnight. Should be any minute now. Have patience, you're a thief," he heckled Robin.

"I just hope the treasure is as plentiful as you say," Robin told him. "I could be spending the evening with Marian."

Will grinned over at him. "How you got a woman like that is beyond me, Robin. She's way out of your rank."

"Believe me, I know," Robin replied, looking through his telescope again. "Focus in. If you want to be a Merry Men, you need to learn to be aware of your surroundings at all times."

Sighing, Will pulled out his telescope as well and looked around. "I gave you a good lead on some treasure, and I'm obviously pretty deft with my hands. That's not enough?" he asked.

"You've passed the pickpocket test, certainly," Robin replied. "But your final test will be to plan and execute a heist of your own. If it's successful, you're in. If not . . . you're either dead or in jail," he said simply.

"Sounds reasonable," Will muttered deadpanned. "Oh, look! They're moving! We've got three minutes until the new guard takes their place." The two men pushed themselves up off of the ground and rushed across the lush lawn to the castle. Robin was already nocking an arrow that was tied to a rope and loosening it by the time they reached the stone exterior. The arrow landed just above the window. He tugged it to make sure it was embedded well enough, and then he started to climb up the rope. Below him, he could hear Will whispering, "hurry up. I can hear them coming around!"

Robin reached the window and peered inside. It was dark within. Either the lord was asleep or the room was empty. As quickly as he could, Robin wedged a jimmy underneath the window and pulled until the windows opened. Quickly, he climbed inside and heard Will grunting as he began his ascent. Robin checked the bed first thing. Empty. The lord must have been either sleeping elsewhere or visiting a friend. Hearing Will scramble in behind him, Robin turned and watched him pulling up the rope. "They're in place now," Will told him. "We'll have to get creative for the exit."

"I've a few ideas in mind," Robin said, eyeing the closet. "First, however, where's this chest?" They searched the room thoroughly, covering every nook and cranny . . . and found nothing. "You're sure it's here?" Robin asked Will. "And not in another part of the castle?"

"No, no. It's here," Will frowned. "I've been in this town longer than you, Robin. I've had my eye on this lord for some time. I know it's here. Just . . ." And he paused, turning to the bed—the one place they hadn't searched. "You don't think?"

"What sort of an idiot hides a massive jewel under his mattress?" Robin moved forward, and grabbed the pillow, lifting it up. "Oh," and there it was. A small little chest concealed underneath the pillow. "Excuse me, he's this sort of an idiot." He picked up the chest—it fit snugly in his palm—and opened it. Within the chest rested a jewel the size of his palm—blue as the sea and glimmering even without light. "Blimey," he murmured. It was a huge gem . . . this had to be worth two villages' worth of food alone.

Will grinned when he saw it. "Told you it was worth snatching. Now, how do we smuggle it out of here?"

Robin stored the gem in the pouch at his hip. "Right through the front door." He led Will over to the closet. "I couldn't help but notice that I was about the same height as our good friend." He grabbed one of the lord's doublets and hats, then used one of the lord's handkerchiefs to cover some of his face. "Here, you wear this," he gave Will another outfit. Once they were dressed, they left the bedroom and walked right down to the front gate.

They were unhindered until they past the line of guards at the gate. "Halt!" they shouted, gripping the hilts of their swords, but then the Captain of the Guard hesitated. "My lord?"

Robin cleared his throat. "Yes! It is I, your lord. Why do you gawk at me so? Avert your eyes, you're unworthy to look upon one as exalted as I!" The Captain quickly looked down. Apparently, this wasn't an uncommon demand.

"Forgive me, my lord. I was told you were in the South visiting Lord Errold," the Captain said.

"You were told WRONG! Does it look like I'm in the South? Though, I am headed there now. Come along," Robin said to Will, moving past the line of guards seemingly towards the stables and his carriage. "Continue your good work, Captain. I don't want to return to find my castle empty of its fine treasures."

"Aye, my lord!" the Captain bowed, and their watch resumed. Robin kept up the charade until they were out of eyesight.

"Bloody hell, Robin," Will said, removing the additional layer of clothes. "You should have been an actor. I think you missed your calling."

Robin chuckled, shedding the lord's clothes as well. "Disguising oneself is always a viable option in getting out of sticky situations. It may be a trade you pick up yourself." They left the castle behind, heading for the Merry Men camp. "You know, if you can successfully lead the next heist," he added with a nudge.

"Oh, I've got a few ideas of me own," Will said. "Perhaps nothing quite so dramatic . . . but equally daring." Robin didn't miss the confident grin. "You just say when."

"Very well." Robin looked him over. "You have three days." That made the confident grin falter on Will's lips.

"Bollocks."

There he was. Just the man he needed for the job. After all, he had been the one to give Robin the final push he needed to fall into Regina's arms. Seemed only right he be the one to help him secure that place. Dropping his pack onto the booth seat opposite of Will, Robin plopped down soon after and removed the coffee that Will had been pouring a considerate amount of alcohol inside of from in front of him. "Oi, that's my lunch and dinner," Will complained.

"I need you sober," Robin explained simply. "I spent the night with Regina." Will looked surprised at that. "And while I was there, I . . . rather stole this," he pulled the storybook out of his pack and placed it on the table. "I need to find the author of this," he told Will, "and I want you to help me."

"Right," Will said after a moment, sitting up. "First of all, not exactly the woman I had in mind when I told you all of that stuff yesterday, but alright. Following your heart, can't fault you for that. Well, I mean, it might be your heart. Or it might be your co—"

"Pleasant," Robin interrupted him. "I need your help, Will. You've been here longer than I have. Surely, you know something where I might find the author."

Will sighed and looked over the book. "Look, things around here . . . before the curse was broken, there wasn't anything magic, right? When the curse broke, the very first thing that was touched by magic . . . was that place," Will nodded out the window where the clock tower was located. "And below that clock tower . . . is a library. We might find something there."

Robin thought it was as good a lead as any. After Will chugged down his liquid meal, they made their way over to the library. "Ah, here we go," Will knelt down before the door, pulling out his set of lockpicks. "It's been awhile, but I think you'll find that ole Will still has the right touch." Robin nodded, looking out for passersby . . . and then noticed the sign. Ah. A PUBLIC library. He let Will struggle a bit more before taking pity on him and simply pushing open the door.

"Open until Ten PM," Robin read the sign aloud to Will's confused expression.

"Ah. Well, very generous," Will blinked.

"Indeed." Robin led the way inside. It was empty, allowing them full rein to dig their hands in. Not that Robin had any clue what exactly they were looking for. Somehow, he doubted there would be a giant sign pointing him to a section of authors with the power of a God. Setting his pack down on the table, he started at one of the book aisles and began making his painstakingly-slow and tedious way through every title. Hours passed, and still they searched.

Will's patience broke first. "She's really something alright. If Evil Queens are your type, which I get," he quickly added. "So. Shagged her, hm?"

"That is not relevant," Robin replied, pulling a few books off of the shelves in the hope that there might be something more . . . ancient-looking or something . . . behind them. Nothing.

"Hey, no judgements here, mate. I was the one who told you to follow your heart," Will assured him.

A heavy sigh left his lips. "I just want her to be happy. Even if she thinks that's impossible." Or even if it meant without him. Robin wasn't quite so daft to think that a happy ending meant marriage and children and growing old together. If he was a part of it, grand, but it didn't matter. As long as she was truly happy.

"You always were the romantic, Robin," Will said, smiling lightly. "But really . . . this world is nothing but pain. If you two being together drowns some of that out, then I think it's the real deal, and I wish you well."

"Hm," Robin said non-committedly. "There won't be any together at all if we can't find the Author. This library doesn't exactly seem to hold any special sort of information. Especially when it houses books like," he pulled out at random and read the title, "'The Cat in the Hat.' Why would a cat want a hat?"

"I've seen stranger," Will informed him.

Robin gave an irritable sigh and moved back to the table. His eyes were tired from reading the tiny font imprinted on the spine of books. He needed some coffee before they continued their venture. Grabbing the book, he was about to put it back into his pack when he noticed . . . a piece of paper. Pausing, he set the book down and took the paper instead, unfolding it. That . . . wasn't there before, and he was rather certain he hadn't torn any pages out of the book. Carefully, he unfolded it and scanned the page's contents.

It was a picture of himself and Regina . . . in the tavern. "Incredible," he breathed, reading the words beside the picture. It was an account of Regina walking into the tavern and approaching him. Robin invited her for a drink and they talked from nightfall to morning light. "'. . . and when the light touched her face, Robin knew in his heart that he wanted to the sun greet her every morning with a kiss nearly as warm as his own,'" he read aloud.

"What's that now?" Will asked, turning to him.

Robin looked up. "I need to reach Regina."

Will took out his phone. "Well, I have this, but I don't have her number. Give me a few." He dialed something on the phone and spoke into it. "Yeah, hello, Belle. Do you have Regina's number, by chance? Robin needs to speak to her, and I make it a point to keep elected officials off of my speed dial." He chuckled at something Belle said, then nodded. "Thank-you, luv. I'll talk to you later, alright?" He hung up and pressed in the new number. "Lovely lady that Belle."

"Quite. A gentle soul . . . one currently attached to Rumplestiltskin, unless I'm mistaken," Robin eyed him curiously. Will shrugged and walked over, handing the phone over to Robin.

"We'll see. Talk in the bottom. Listen at the top," he instructed Robin. Odd device for communication. How did it work?

Hearing Regina's voice, Robin pressed his ear to the phone. "REGINA? REGINA, IT'S ROBIN. CAN YOU HEAR ME?"

"Steady, mate. She can hear you fine. Or she could. Not so sure about now. Talk normally," Will told him with a note of exasperation.

"Oh. Sorry. Listen. I've just found something that you have to see right now. Come to the library. It's fantastic," Robin insisted.

There was a pause, and Robin was about to try shouting again, when he heard her say, "I'll be right there."

"Brilliant," Robin grinned. "Oh, I'm smiling. Can you see that? Does this work for the face, too?" he asked, looking at Will, who shook his head, rubbing his temples. Regina was laughing on the other end. "Anyway. I'll see you soon?"

"Quite," Regina replied. "Talk to you then."

She hung up, and Robin looked at the phone. "Did I do it? How do you stop talking?"

Will checked the phone. "She hung up. Remind to teach you how to live in the modern age later. Bloody embarrassing," he shook his head. "So, she's coming yeah? Well, I'll just take my leave then and let you lovebirds canoodle in the privacy of the library on your own."

"Right," Robin looked over the page again, astounded. "Thanks, mate. I'll be in touch."

"Oh, I'm sure you will."

This was ridiculous. He ought to call the whole thing off right now. There was no way this was going to work, and his men were just going to end up dead because of it. "You're insane, Will," he told the young man who had rapidly become his friend during the few months that Will had been traveling with them.

"That's the fourth time you've said that," Will reminded him. "Have a little faith. I know what I'm doing." He and Robin were perched on a tree branch that grew over a road. Alan-a-Dale was also perched beside Robin. Little John and Friar Tuck—and the others—were on the ground, hacking away at two large trees that stood on the edges of the road. "How are you doing down there, gents?" Will called down to them.

"Nearly ready!" Little John called up.

The sound of horses approached, and Will added, "best hurry! They're nearly here!" Robin fretted, his thumb stroking over the hilt of his dagger at his side. It was the only weapon he had carried with him up here, since his job would make carrying a bow and quiver rather difficult. If things turned south, it'd be a tough fight.

"Will . . ." Robin warned, watching the carriage rapidly approaching. They were unnoticed, high in the trees as they were, but it was his men on the ground that Robin was worried about.

"Don't worry, they've got it," Will insisted. The carriage just approached them, and the two trees fell right in front of the horses, making them stop abruptly. The carriage driver grunted, nearly thrown from his seat.

"What the-?" he driver climbed down from his seat to inspect the fallen trees. Little John and the others pressed themselves into the foliage, hidden from sight. The door to the carriage opened, a nobleman dressed in rich silk climbing out of it.

"What's the cause for delay? Oh my! What happened here?" the nobleman asked as he saw the trees.

"Now," Will whispered to Robin. Robin, in turn, gave Alan a thumbs up. Alan passed over a rope which was tied to the tree trunk. Robin quickly tied Will's feet, and then slowly lowered him down over the carriage. Gritting his teeth, Robin lowered him knot by knot, his own feet braced on the branch. Alan held the rope as well, in the event that Robin lost his grip. Will was steadily lowered until he hovered just over the carriage top.

Using his dagger, he cut a hole into the top of the carriage, and then signaled to Robin. He let him down a bit more until Will was half-way in the carriage. Gritting his teeth, Robin felt his strength starting to wan. Will needed to hurry up, and not just because the nobleman was going to head back to his comfy seat at any moment. Feeling a tug on the rope, Robin grunted over to Alan, "he's got it. Pull." The two of them pulled the rope back up, lifting Will out of the carriage and back onto the branch just as the nobleman turned and headed back for his carriage.

Will grinned and held the reasonably sized chest in his hands. "Not bad, right?" he panted. "Codger won't know what hit him until he decides to look for his money . . . or notices a slight draft." Chuckling, he watched as the carriage driver carefully maneuvered the carriage around the fallen trees, their targets moving out of sight. "So, what do you think?" Will opened the chest, revealing a trove of golden coins and pearl necklaces, "am I in?"

Later that evening, at the camp, Robin poured each man a tankard of ale as they gathered around a fire. "Brothers, gather around. Will Scarlet, give me your hand," he said, approaching him. Will gave him a dubious look, but Robin simply pulled out his dagger and sliced his palm, squeezing a few drops of blood over the fire. "You're one of us now," he told Will, his tone solemn. "For life."

Will lifted his chin, "a thief for life."

"No," Robin corrected him. "That's what they call us, but that's not what we are. We help those in need. A thief only steals for himself. We have a cause that's bigger than any one of our own needs. Our cause is humanity. When you steal for personal gain, the first thing you lose is yourself. We've chosen the harder path," he said, looking around at his men. "The difficult path." He turned back to Will, squeezing his hand one more time, "but the right one." He patted his back and released his hand. "Welcome to the Merry Men."

There were cheers as the other Merry Men rose and moved forward to welcome Will officially into their ranks. Robin stepped back, smiling. These were heroes right here. They could go off and use their skills to make themselves richer . . . but here they were . . . sleeping on the ground, picking the dirt from under their fingernails and fighting over the warmest spot near the fire . . . because they believed in the cause. He cherished every one of them. A man was nothing without his friends.

While he waited for Regina, Robin sat at the table, pouring over the book. He checked to see if the page had fallen out of the book, but the page—twenty-three—was accounted for. It was as if the page belonged to another book . . . or that it had been re-written and what was now a part of the book was the revised version. It just showed that there wasn't anyone dictating Regina's exact movements. She had the ability of choice. She may have chosen wrong in the past, but she could choose the correct path now and in the future. Her destiny was in her hands.

Hearing the door close, Robin looked up to see Regina walking in. "I got here as fast as I could. What's going on?"

Robin stood up. "I'll tell you in a moment. First, do you remember this?" he asked, gesturing to the book.

"Uh . . . the book you apparently stole from me? Yes, I remember it quite well," she questioned.

Robin couldn't help but smile, "you knew I was a thief when you met me." That made her smile. God, he loved her smiles. "Tonight, I came here to try and find a clue towards finding the Author . . . towards your happy ending. It's been bleak. There's really nothing here except a cat who apparently has a penchant for hats. But," he held up a finger, "then I found something." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the page, handing it to her.

Regina took it and looked it over, her brow furrowing. "Is this . . . us?"

"Yes!" Robin exclaimed. "From inside the pub," he tapped the page.

"I . . . don't understand. Is this from the book?" Regina asked, walking to his side and examining the book.

Robin shook his head. "Page Twenty-Three is already in the book, see?" he turned to it, showing her. "And it's you leaving me. This goes in the same place," he said, taking the page and setting it over the other one. "This is the meeting we never had. And, apparently, it went quite well. Look, we're about to kiss. Tongue and all," he gave her a cheeky grin.

She gave him an exasperated sigh, nudging him in the side. "What does it mean though?" she asked.

Robin took her hands in his. "It means that your fate could have gone many different ways. It means you're not doomed to suffer. There's a bright future for you around every turn, even if you miss one. The choice is up to you, Regina," he squeezed her hands. "No one controls your destiny but you."

She appeared a little dubious about that. "Where did it come from?" she asked him. "Was there another book?"

"It just appeared in my satchel," he explained. "Look, you can take it however you want, but to me, it's showing you possibility. Hope. That's not something that would ever happen to a villain, is it?" he asked, and she shook her head, eyes forming tears. Robin brushed his thumbs over her hands. "What is it?" he asked her softly.

"I owe someone a quarter," she said a little hoarsely, the emotion thick in her voice. Robin didn't quite understand what she meant by that, but it was clear that she was happy . . . and that made him soar. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her lovingly, a hand moving to rest at her lower back. No, it wasn't perfect . . . but they were perfect together, and all Robin could taste in her kiss . . . was hope.

Regina pulled away and added, "by the way, I really need to teach you how to use a phone."