Chapter Three
The emotional roller coaster that was her morning follows her through the day. Thoughts of her night and morning spent with Robin, their conversation, her feelings, they all fill her mind as she tries to accomplish things. Things that really need her attention like the budget for the next quarter, preparing for the TV interview coming up with Kris, and performance reviews she needs to approve... not when she thinks she can get Robin's head back between her legs.
Thoughts of them in bed immediately bring her back to the here and now and just how wrapped up in each other they're getting. It's bad, she knows. Their feelings. She can deny it all day long to Mal and anyone who asks and even tries to, but she knows better. She's not stupid. She sees how much he cares for her in his eyes, his actions, but mostly in how much he loves her son.
And yet her traitorous mind wonders how long it will really last. How long until he tires of her late nights, and how much time her job takes from them. How long until he's tired of her occasional bitchiness; she has her moments, and they are pretty fierce. How long until he finds someone just like Graham had. Someone young and blonde and not her.
Regina sighs, reaches for her coffee and focuses on work. If she can just get through the rest of these reviews she'll consider it a win for the day.
Just when she thinks she's going to get through them all before lunch, Mal comes bursting into her office with a plan so ludacris she starts questioning if she's really awake and not still back in her bed with Robin.
"You want me to go with you to the chairman and pitch an idea that you got from Santa Claus?"
"If Macy's doesn't have what you're looking for, we'll find it for you, even if it means sending you somewhere else." Mal sinks into the chair in front of Regina's deck and crosses her legs. "How does that sound?"
Regina lets out a little scoff and shakes her head. "It sounds like a great way to go out of business."
"But it won't. It'll inspire loyalty." Regina resists the urge to roll her eyes. It's a terrible idea, but Mal won't let up. "If this works, we're probably looking at a bonus. A bonus that could buy us our own Christmas presents. Like a house in the country..."
Her eyes narrow at the blonde but she feels a twinge of temptation nevertheless. "And if he hates the idea?"
"Then we're no worse off than we are now," Mal insists. "If this store doesn't turn around soon we're all out on our asses from the CEO to the janitor. I don't know about you, but I like my job. It keeps me in shoes that I like, an apartment I adore, and I do very little for it." Regina's eyebrow arches and Mal gives her a look. "You know what I mean."
Regina lets the idea sink in. Thinks about how even if she believes it to be ridiculous there could be customers out there who find it refreshing for a store to care about their bottom line more than their own and just maybe that'll make a difference. Her eyes that are still locked on the blue ones across from her fall away to her laptop as she closes it. So much for those reviews. "Fine. What do we have to lose?"
Mal's smile is wide and triumphant. "That's the Regina Mills I know and love."
#
His son isn't the most patient toddler in the world, he's well behaved, but very shy around a lot of people and Macy's line to see Santa Claus is packed. Thirty minutes into their wait his son falls asleep on his shoulder which is lucky for him, it's well past his nap time, and he'd rather hold him a while and let him get some shut eye than have him grumpy the rest of the night. Though Robin rather wishes he had thought to take off his heavy coat before his son had fallen asleep.
A small sigh leaves the young lad beside him, and it's with considerable steadiness Robin kneels down beside him. "Robin, do I really have go up there?
Robin's eyes look away from Henry's over to where Santa Claus is in a very deep conversation with a young girl who has been prattling off her Christmas list for the last ten minutes. It doesn't escape him this is a bit tedious for Henry, as he already knows the truth behind the myth, but they still have another half an hour before they meet his mom for dinner and he thought it might instill a bit of belief in him.
Taking a deep breath, let let's it out before he ventures, "I thought as long as Roland's saying hello, you might as well meet the old man."
Henry's head falls to the side. "Why?"
Henry may be six, but he is wise beyond his years, so Robin settles for a bit of logic. "Let's just say for the sake of argument that there is a Santa Claus and that you don't believe in him. Is it worth the risk that you might not get anything for Christmas?"
"I didn't believe in him last year, Mom still got me everything I asked her for."
Well bollocks.
"Yeah…" He reaches up, scratches his beard a moment before adjusting his hold on Roland. "You get a free candy cane?"
"My mom prefers it if I limit my sugar."
Biting the side of his cheek to keep his face straight, Robin concedes with a, "of course she does."
"He can go see Santa now," comes the urging of one of Santa's many elves.
The look Henry gives him is bored exasperation, but he coaxes him, "Go ahead, just say hello while I wake Roland."
Robin walks over with him, smiles at Santa who gives a knowing smile at the boy he's trying to rouse in his arms and then looks at Henry with a wide smile. "Hello there."
"Hello, sir."
He sticks out his hand for Santa to take, and Robin can see by the surprised look on Santa's face this isn't something he sees everyday.
"Oh, how do you do?" Santa asks, taking Henry's hand, giving it a firm shake before taking it back and asking, "Would you like to come sit on my knee?" Henry sends Robin a look. His eyebrow raise as if he's asking for permission and Robin nods. "Good. Up you come." When Henry's settled in Santa's lap he asks, "Now then, what's your name?"
"Henry Mills. What's yours?"
Robin chuckles right along with Santa on that one.
"Mine? Well, I have lots of names. Uh, Kris Kringle, Santa Claus, Father Christmas, Saint Nicholas. If you were in Germany, I'd be Der Weihnachtsmann, or in italy, La Befana. I have to speak many languages because, of course, I travel a great deal. Ded Moroz. That's Russian."
Henry's clearly blown away, and if Robin's honest, so is he.
"My mother's Miss Mills. She's director of special events for Macy's."
"Uh-huh."
"She runs the parade. I know how this all works. You're an employee of Macy's."
Santa's gaze flicks to Robin's for the briefest of moments before he admits, "That is true."
"But you're a very good Santa Claus. You look realistic." For the first time it looks as though Henry's taking the man in. "This isn't the regular Santa suit, is it?"
"Oh, no," Santa shakes his head. "This is the real Santa suit."
"It's very nice."
"I agree. Lovely gold buttons, gold thread. It's as real as me. Well, you ask your dad if I'm real."
Robin cringes and then mentally kicks himself for not mentioning that little tidbit to Santa beforehand. However, Henry's not phased and replies, "I don't know where he is."
"Well, he's…"
Henry smiles at him and Robin's heart breaks into a million pieces at the look they share. "That's my friend, Robin. I don't know my dad."
"Oh, I see," Santa says. There's a pause, and Robin wishes he could take it all back. If it saves henry from asking about fathers and his lack thereof, he would do it to save him from it. "Well, now, what can I get you for Christmas?"
Henry shrugs. "Nothing, thank you."
"Nothing?"
"My mom buys my presents. Mostly games and books, and sometimes clothes…" Henry's eyes widen a touch, and then, "Hi, Mom."
Robin looks beside him to find Regina standing there not two feet away from him. The glare she shoots at him makes him think, Christ alive he's a dead man.
She's poised and completely the person in charge when she marches up to Henry and Santa and very quietly tells him, "Henry, you've taken enough of Kris' time. There's a long line of customers, and they come first."
Henry nods and politely says his goodbyes.
Robin begins to follow, unable to rouse his son from his shoulder, he pauses to tell Santa, "Nonbelievers."
"Right."
#
As soon as they're in her office and the door closes behind him, leaving Henry and Roland out with her assistant, Ashley, she calmly lets him have it. "If I felt that it was important for him to see Santa Claus, I would be happy to take him."
She's right, he knows he made a mistake not speaking with her about it first but at the time he believed it to be all rather innocent. "I told Roland I'd take him, and so I didn't see any harm in Henry saying hello to an interesting old man."
She raises a brow and yes, he's very aware that Roland hadn't woke up to see Santa, he'd waited until they got back to Regina's office before he decided to rouse so the excuse is weak, but it had been the plan at the time.
"Well, there is harm," she goes on. "I decided long ago that I would make sure he always knew the truth about myths and fairytales, and then you bring him here, and he sees hundreds of naive children, and he meets an actor, a very good actor, mind you, with a real beard and a beautiful Santa suit, sitting smack dab in the center of a child's fantasy world. Who do you think he's going to believe?"
He smiles sheepishly. Alright, she's made her point, but he also is very aware how much Henry loves his mother and how much her approval means to him.
This is an obvious topic they're never really going to agree on, but he respects the way she raises her son, and so he changes the topic to something safer. Something more directed at them. "You know, I was going to go home, make some dinner… why don't you and Henry come back home with us? I may also have some Mistletoe we can try out later after they boys fall asleep."
Her eyes soften, and he's sure she's going to say yes, if the curve of her lips are any indication, but then they fall as quickly as they rose, and she's shaking her head, saying, "It's tempting, but I have so much work to do tonight."
Disappointment settles in his chest, but he knows she's busy, her busiest time of the year, he'll get over it. They aren't ruddy teenagers afterall. They can survive a few days apart, besides, what she needs more is to know he'll be there for her at the end of her day, not him wondering when he can get in between her legs, as lovely as it is. "Well I'm here, whenever you need me all you have to do is ask."
He stands, doesn't want to keep her here any later then she needs to be, but as soon as he does, she asks, "Actually, Robin, there is one thing…" His brows raise, waiting. "Would you mind taking Henry home with you? I have a feeling I might be here for the rest of the night."
"Of course, I will."
He wants to kiss her, it's been hours since he last had, and her door is shut so it makes the decision for him. Their eyes never leave the others as he comes around the desk, and it only encourages him when her tongue peaks out to wet her lips before he leans down and places his lips over hers.
When he pulls away after a lingering moment, before he gets too far, she tells him, "Maybe if it's not too late, and you're still awake… maybe you could show me that mistletoe before bed."
His own lips lift, and after another soft kiss, he assures, "I'll be up."
#
She slumps into the seat of the taxis and lets her eyes close for a few blissful moments. It's just after nine, she'd been at work later than she wanted to be, but she's got her reviews done and the budget for the next quarter so the pressure on her shoulders is considerably lighter than it has been and if it took a night of headache inducing focus so be it.
All she wants to do is sleep, but she's sure it's not going to come as easily as she hopes it would because she was stupid and went and pulled Kris' file and now it's all she can think about. She wanted a damn good Santa Claus, and she sure got it. His background is a work of fiction. Her eyes open and she lets out a soft snort. How HR let the man get away with him putting down some of the things that he had. Birthplace as the North Pole… "Please," she mutters with a roll of her eyes.
She manages to make it upstairs to her apartment without much more scoffing to herself, and it's the image of her son sound asleep in her bed that has her heart lifting that she forgets about Santa Claus and thinks more about the man across the hall who took care of her son, yet again.
She should go thank him, she thinks, but she wants to change first. She picks cotton instead of silk this time and pulls on a robe, the last thing she needs is to give Mr. or Mrs. Stein a show of her in her pajamas.
She knocks lightly, knows Roland will be asleep too, and he's there not long after in his own pajama pants and white tee smiling at her.
He shuts the door behind her, she doesn't mean to stay too long so she wastes no time stepping into his welcoming arms. "Thank you for bringing him home."
His voice is light and soft when he replies, "You're welcome. You alright?"
Pulling away, she shakes her head a bit. "I'm just tired. These last few weeks have been... rough."
"Come on, come sit with me for a few minutes," he tells her, taking her hand and leading them over to the couch. She shouldn't though. She should go to bed. God knows she could use the sleep after last night, but she goes anyways because, well, she wants the comfort. And he's in a white tee and smelling like the pine soap she can't resist so…. "How's that?" he asks her when they're cuddled together.
She tries to fight her smile but it's no use, and she lets out a contented sigh. "Better." Her eyes close, and she inhales the scent of him. She could so easily fall asleep like this. She usually does when she's tucked in his arms, but her traitorous mind shifts back to Kris' the moment she opens her eyes and spots his Christmas tree in the corner. She forgot Robin had text her telling her him and the boys were going to do that tonight. "What did you think of Kris?"
There's a pause and then his arms tighten around her before he says, "He's a very realistic Santa Claus. I can see why he's so popular."
"I peeked at his file tonight."
"Oh yeah?"
His voice sounds a bit curious, intrigued so she lifts her head to look up at him and goes on. "Robin, he really believes he's Santa Claus."
His brows crease together. "Why do you say that?"
"He listed his place of birth as the North Pole, for one. His next of kin, he listed the reindeer, Robin…" she trails off because Robin has begun to grin at her, and it's the kind of grin he does right before he's about to laugh. Normally, she finds it ridiculously attractive, but right now it only exasperates her. "It's not funny."
"I'm sorry, babe," he says, doing his best to stay those infuriating dimples then kisses her like his kiss will make her smile. "It probably helps him get into character."
She rolls her eyes. "God, I hope so."
"Maybe he's the real deal?"
Her head falls to the side, as her eyes narrow. He's teasing her, she knows, but she hates it at the moment. "Stop. I don't need to worry about your sanity along with his."
"Course I don't really think so, but maybe believing in a bit of magic is what we all need this Christmas?"
She deflates a little bit at that. "I believe in what I can see and feel."
"Well that's something," he tells her, and then does his best to make sure that's the last thoughts of Santa Clause she'll have for the night. And between his kisses and cuddles, it does the trick just fine.