A/N: Time limitations and a flaky muse can be a lethal combination. Thanks for your patience! This is a wee bit of a long one so I hope it makes up for it. But again, thank you all for still inquiring about it and keeping your interest alive in it. Hope you enjoy!
Oh and thanks again always to my partner in crime, Nicole. I haven't the slightest clue what I'd do without you!
Also, if you haven't, go check out our co-written OQ AU Stand by You!
Okay, seriously, I'll stop talking so y'all can read.
He is a fucking disaster. Although, he has no bloody idea what's got his knickers in such a twist that he can't think straight, it's written all over his face once he returns back to work on Monday. He can't seem to focus on anything, much less properly function. Mrs. Lucas had to say hello four times before Robin ever answered her and poor Nicholas Zimmer had to stand there and just wait at Robin's desk because he wasn't paying attention to the poor lad.
And Robin hadn't managed to really grasp his day until little Roland Cassidy plops down beside him on the bench during recess.
"Mr. Losslee?" Roland (who is unable to pronounce his hard K sounds yet) uses Robin's newly dubbed name timidly, not wanting to rip Robin away from his thoughts and make him angry.
He makes a mental note, despite his distraction that he needs to call up the boy's foster mother and insist on him taking a speech class. Then again, he's been telling himself that since he met Roland and still hasn't done it.
You're doing great Robin, you sodding idiot.
Robin only gives him an absentminded hum, carefully scrutinizing the road and barely paying any mind to the little boy beside him.
"Are you okay?"
It feels as if Robin has been submerged under water all day, hearing muffled sounds of this and that but never receiving anything clearly, until this very moment where he seemingly emerges and can hear again. Roland is perceptive, Robin had picked that up from the moment he'd met him. He always seems to know when something is awry. That might be attributed to his scenario, though, which puts a slight damper on the pride Robin feels for him.
Robin smiles down kindly at Roland, meeting his brown disks, which are buried beneath his tiny brows that he has scrunched together in confusion and concern. "I'm okay, Roland. Why do you ask?"
"You seem sad."
"Do I? Well, I'm not sad," he reassures, "But thank you for asking." He taps the tip of the young boy's nose and beams down at him like he'd just given Robin the most thoughtful of gifts.
But Robin's merriment is short lived when Roland dips his head low and peers into his lap, suddenly sniffling and sucking up any mirth left in Robin's features. Roland's voice is quieter than ever before, stating, "I'm sad."
Robin can feel his heart plummet down into the pit of his stomach and his brows knit so perfectly together as he asks, "Why's that?"
"I made my daddy mad," Roland says trying to fight his bottom lip from poking out and the tears welling in his eyes.
"Your foster father?" Roland nods tearfully before Robin adds, "Why'd he get angry with you?
"I 'spillded' my cheerios all over the floor but I didn't mean to. I tried to say I was sorry. It was an 'assadent' but he was so mad."
Robin can feel his heart tug at that, as a not so kind reminder of his own father doing something similar seeps into his brain. Robin clearly remembers that one vein in his dad's neck that used to threaten to pop right out of his anger-stained skin, when he was furious with Robin for whatever it was that he'd done. Robin would always focus on that vein to get through the tirades, until his father recovered and acted as though nothing had just come to pass.
Marian had never understood why Robin just sat there and endured his father's wrath. It was a pride thing more than anything else, Robin couldn't bear the thought of letting his father think that he had one over on his son, that he'd won or conquered. So, Robin let him spit fire in his face, while he just stood there and took it.
It'd be over nearly as quickly as it started anyway.
"Roland, I'm sure your foster father has completely forgotten about it and he's not mad at you anymore," Robin soothes.
Roland starts to full-on sob then, "But Henry said that if I make this mommy and daddy mad they'll take me away forever. And I'll never get to see Henry ever again and it will be all my fault and he will never ever forgive me."
"He said that to you?"
Roland only nods, his sobs drowning out any semblance of a word or phrase, while Robin is trying to swallow the sudden swell of rage he's gained for the elder brother. How could he say something so awful to his little brother, who is so innocent and ignorant of bad things? A defenseless five year old has the weight of the world thrown onto his shoulders and he's done nothing but try to be a good kid.
Robin sighs, heavily trying to gather a way to comfort the child. "Well, Roland…" he begins. "Henry is just really scared and he loves you very much and doesn't want to lose you. He didn't mean what he said. He's just angry… but not at you. Nor does he blame you for what's happened to you both."
"So Henry isn't mad at me?"
"No," Robin patronizes, "not at all."
"But what if I do make mommy and daddy mad and they do send me away?"
"Roland," Robin scolds atop his question.
The little boy's tears take pause at the way Robin speaks his name, but they well up in his eyes and a few make their escape as he blinks up at Robin.
"I promise that as long as I'm alive that I will be sure that nothing happens to you or your brother. No one will take you away if I have anything to say about it. And no one," Robin's voice dips low as if telling a secret, "is going to tear you two apart."
"You promise?"
"Yeah, lets shake on it," Robin says as he extends his little finger out. He hooks his pinky with his tiny counterpart, then places a tender kiss on his forehead. "I promise."
And it's a promise Robin Locksley intends to keep because he can't bear looking at Roland and seeing him as hurt as he is in this moment. He doesn't deserve this, and though they've only known each other for a short period of time, Robin wants nothing more in this world than to protect the child next to him, which is his every intention, come hell or high water.
No one under his watch will ever feel like he once did.
[:]
Robin doesn't know what to do next and, unfortunately, it seems that the coffee pot he's now clutching in his hands isn't going to relent any answers either. He's not sure if he should go bring it up to the guidance counselor quite yet, it might be just a quiet matter, but perhaps it would be good for the boys to talk to someone about how they're feeling. Then again, maybe he can just confront it himself with the boys alone. Although, that might entail involving Regina, which he'd rather avoid. He could also just mention it in passing to the boys' new foster mother when he meets with her, though he feels that that's a failed plan in the making. She's not really the caring sort, he's gathered. He practically had to beg the woman to come meet him to discuss Roland's need for a speech class. Thankfully, she'd conceded but not before a long-winded avoidance of committing to come meet with Robin.
He's got all that piled on his mind among other things and he's already prepared to rip his hair out of his skull. Just another manic Monday, right?
"You look like you could use a drink," he hears behind him.
He turns to find his favorite new acquaintance leaning against the doorframe. Magnolia, or Maggie-slash-Mags, as he's been informed to call her, smirks at him as he gives a sly answer about how she was certainly correct and had it not been a Monday afternoon, his mug would be full of whiskey rather than Folgers.
"You don't drink on the weekdays?" she inquires.
"Maybe a drink or two, nothing extravagant though."
"Well, lets go get a drink then, on me."
Robin thinks he'd like getting a drink with Maggie, just hanging out platonically and talking about random shit that means nothing really in the grand scheme, but he rejects the offer, admitting that though he'd like a good solid drink at the moment, he's not feeling the bar scene and he's got enough work to do that he'll already be behind anyway; best to not delay further. He does offer a rain check though, which she accepts, in turn, and then takes the coffee pot from his death grip to pour herself some coffee into her own mug.
"So, what's giving you the Monday blues?"
Robin releases all the pent up weight in his chest as he exhales, "Oh, where do I begin?"
"Oh god, there's more than one thing?" she half laughs. "You sure you don't want to accept the drink offer?"
"Oh trust me," he chuckles darkly, "I do, but I think it might be counterproductive in the long run."
She nods and leans against the counter, "So what's up?"
"You know Roland Cassidy, adorable little boy in my class with the really curly black hair?"
"Yes, very quiet in PE, but yes."
"Well, I'm just worried about him and his brother and I'm not really all that sure what to do about it."
"Have you talked to their parents or are they the problem?"
"No. I don't really know. It's mostly his brother, Henry, he just says things he's not supposed to and, I mean, I'm not really sure if it's my place to intervene or if I should just leave it be."
"Have you talked to Henry's teacher?"
His mouth twists pensively to one side. "I dunno if I want to involve her just yet."
"You scared of her?"
"No," he answers flatly.
"Then what?"
"I dunno, just don't wanna bother her quite yet," he shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.
Truthfully, he's afraid that Regina will tell him he's overreacting and that he's judging Henry based off the perception of a five year old, but he can't just sit by and ignore the potential feud between these brothers. They're all the other has and neither should take the other for granted—they have to understand that. Robin would've given anything to have had someone to be there with him during his childhood. Marian had come along the way somewhere in the middle there but there was a long spell where he was all alone.
That had been made apparent during the one and only time he'd attempted to run away from home. He was a young thing—seven, eight maybe—and he'd done what anyone his age would do, he shoved a jar of peanut butter into a knapsack, because it was the easiest thing to grab and tote, as well as, a few little trifles to keep him company on his journey. It'd been raining that day, pouring even, which isn't uncommon where he's from nor something he minds. He's, actually, always been a fan of rain and thunderstorms, something about them is exciting and calming all wrapped into one; what could be better?
Ironically enough, he'd chosen to move to the desert but he'd figured that it's better that he has as few reminders of home as possible, and the desert would only make the rain that much more enjoyable.
But the day he ran away, in particular, it'd been raining rather hard and Robin knew he wouldn't last long out on the streets. He was right, too, it only rained harder as he ambled through the different streets, perhaps a sign from the universe, but Robin Locksley was persistent and persevered through. That is, until it was raining so hard that he couldn't see in front of him and he heard little roars of thunder. It'd been then, that his impetuous, and yet, usually perceptive, juvenile brain had decided that he'd just camp out at someone else's house, only to realize that that might be a little difficult given that his friends were few and far between, save Cyrus and Alice.
Cyrus and Alice were in a similar situation as Robin and Marian, except their parents wanted to keep them apart and for Alice to be promised to someone else. Cyrus wasn't exactly the richest of sorts, but that didn't stop the two of them. Even as kids, everyone knew that they were meant to be, but their parents continued to keep them apart until they actually ran away from home.
Robin's escapade, on the other hand, ended about as soon as it'd started. Robin had chosen to go to Cy's house for shelter but it didn't take long before Cyrus told his mom that Robin was hiding out in his room—traitor. Cy swore as they grew up that he did it with good intentions because Robin shouldn't have run away but Robin didn't forgive so easily. In fact, if he remembers correctly, he didn't speak to Cyrus for nearly an entire school year.
Perhaps, he made himself alone…
Perhaps, he still does.
"Mhm," Maggie crosses her arms over her chest and nods knowingly—the mischievous glint in her eye taunting him.
"What?"
"Nothing," she sneers and darts her eyes to the floor.
Robin doesn't follow but he doesn't want to get near any other reason he may be avoiding Regina. "What about your search for The One, huh?" he dodges.
Maggie just shakes her head, though, "Oh no, no don't change the subject."
"Don't avoid the question."
"No, the one avoiding is you," she reprimands. "I have nothing to tell. Did you piss her off?"
He is avoiding, frankly, because he doesn't want deal with the possible repercussions of what may or may not have almost happened the other night—at least not today, he can't handle it today.
"No, I just don't think she likes me very much. And I just don't want to bug her with something that I can probably handle."
"So, what are you going to do? Just stand around until the universe solves it?" she teases.
Robin feigns gullibility, "You think that'll work?"
Maggie scoffs and rolls her eyes as she paces back to the door to leave Robin to his own devices. She doesn't depart entirely, though, without adding over her shoulder, "Go talk to Regina, she doesn't bite… "
"I'm not scared of her!" he calls after her, followed by the sound of a snicker slithering down the waxy tiles.
[:]
Well, he thought he didn't really fear Regina Mills until he nearly runs into her and splatters lukewarm coffee between the two of them as he rounds the corner back to the office.
"What? It's not enough to take me out to dirty clay pits to freeze me to death, now you have throw hot coffee on me, too?" she jests as he falters backward just slightly to avoid the collision.
"At least then you'd be warm, right? Or do you like to keeping your whole body as frigid as your soul?"
"I try to keep it as cold as your bed is at night," she counters flippantly.
He raises a brow— a fairly comeback. "I rather think I keep my bed quite warm, if you ask me, well, and the women who've seen it."
Regina answers with a scoff, muttering, "Such a problem," beneath her breath.
Robin's not even sure why he feels the need to flaunt it, and truthfully, the more he gets to know her, the more uncomfortable he gets telling her. Well, and it's best not to push that any further. Instead, he chooses to deflect, a common occurrence on his part today, it seems.
"I was actually coming to look for you," he tells her.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about Henry and Roland, not a big deal, if you're busy or something."
"Actually, that's who I'm dealing with right now." The sigh that she emits voices all the rest of her frustrations, but it seems it's not really directed at the boys.
"What happened?"
"Well, their foster mother isn't answering the phone and you know that they're closing the building at five today, so I have no idea what to do. Ashley's been trying to get her on the phone constantly because we can't just dump them on the sidewalk to wait."
He has a strong urge to soothe her, to reach out and tell her to take a deep breath—that everything will be fine, but he doesn't, knowing that that would be inappropriate, especially given where they left off last. Although, he's fairly certain he did something of the like in their previous circumstance and she hadn't fended him off, so it wouldn't be completely bizarre, but Robin, though it hasn't been long, has started to figure out who Regina is, and he knows from what he's gathered that what happened in those clay pits is meant to stay there. She'd been enthralled with the moment but now that gravity had gently tugged her back to plant her feet firmly on the ground, she'd realized that she'd made a mistake; she isn't an affectionate person and certainly doesn't plan on being that way with Robin, and least of all with him (or really anyone) in public.
He has to stop trying to be her friend.
"Need some help?" he offers despite his revelation. So much for that.
She dismisses it with a hand, "Oh, it's okay. I can take care of it, if you're busy."
"Oh please, Roland's my student after all, it's the least I could do." He shrugs. It's trivial, really, because he'd give anything to help—the boys—yeah, he wants to help the boys because they need someone and that's why he's offering, because he wants to help Henry and Roland.
She lets out a slight sigh of relief, music to Robin's ears to say the least. "Okay, fine, I'm running down to my classroom to get them some juice and some puzzles to pass the time. Although, we have to be out of the building by five today so…" she trails off, leaving the rest of her sentence unfinished. The school board had implemented an energy saving program to help with funding in the school, meaning every Monday and Friday the building closed at five, no exceptions. So, that meant that they had to be out of the building by five no matter what. "You mind going to sit with them?"
"You don't need any help getting anything from your room?"
She glowers at him. "What because I'm a woman I can't carry all those things on my own?"
He shrugs in turn. "You said it, not me, remember that." His boyish smirk creeps up on his visage—Regina's blood pressure, more than likely, rising with it's prevalence. He doesn't mean it but he's fond of watching her ire
"Ugh," she scoffs. "You are impossibl—"
"—y handsome," he finishes, "Yes I know."
"Of course, you do," she scolds, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.
"You're not denying it?"
"Well, of course not. I wholeheartedly believe that you think you are attractive."
"I am a man who can tell no lie," he answers haughtily as he tips his nose far into the air.
She doesn't skip a beat. "To you it may be no lie."
His quip doesn't come soon enough so he settles for directions on what she needs him to do for her, which ends up being to return to the office and tend to the boys along with her solemn promise that she would promptly return with things to occupy them while they await Zelena West's phone call. It's peculiar for her to have forgotten, given that he'd just spoken to her not but a few hours prior. But he doesn't linger on it and joins the boys in the office.
They're sitting side-by-side in the chairs facing the front counter, with no one in sight besides themselves. Henry is sitting with his legs tucked under his bum, carefully scrutinizing the clock, as if he could map out the exact time that Zelena would come rushing in through the door to sweep the boys home. But there's something else that lingers in his eyes, a nervousness, one that describes the unnerving feeling of being left behind. It's practically written all over his face—what if she left us; what if this is her way of getting rid of us…
He's not a child psychologist or anything but that much about Henry's facial expressions is clear. And he knows that's why he's treated Roland in such a way, because he's terrified that this is temporary and that one wrong move will send them packing. Robin ventures to wonder if the elder brother has convinced himself that the Cheerio incident has caused this and that they are to be given back.
But it doesn't seem that Henry has been tough on his brother while they were alone. Roland's little eyes are darting around the room from various points in the room, while keeping a steady rhythm going with the collision of the backs of his legs to the edge of the chair that he's sitting in. They're both quiet but there seems to be no looming animosity between them. Though, the air is a bit funny, he attributes that to the anxiety over their foster parents' whereabouts.
Robin finally finds his way in front of them, squatting down to equalize their positions. "You boys haven't managed much mischief in my absence, have you?"
"Mr. Losslee!" Roland squeals and falls forward, linking his arms around Robin's neck and hurling himself into an unexpected hug.
"Hey there, little man." Robin smiles softly.
When Robin's gaze lands on Henry, he eventually elicits words from him, "Hi." It was simple but a start that Robin was willing to use.
"Hi, how are you Henry?"
"Fine." His answer is short and leaves little wiggle room.
"Any luck with your foster mum?""
"I think she forgotted," Roland replies first.
Henry gives a dubious scoff and Robin glances up to look him squarely in the eye before answering with, "Surely. I'm certain it's a simple mistake."
Robin doesn't buy into Henry's fear but that doesn't stop him from having a fears of his own. His mind went straight to a tragedy where Zelena is either dead or unconscious and that's why she can't answer her phone. Perhaps a car accident? Or a freak accident? But he knows that he has to be strong for them, convincing them that everything is okay.
He understands what Henry is feeling, but honestly, he hasn't the damnedest clue how to soothe his troubles. He could be straightforward and also confront the consequences of his conversation with Roland this morning. Then again, he really wants to get a second opinion and he needn't upset the boys any further for no reason. There's no telling how Henry will respond.
Robin doesn't get the chance anyway before he hears breathless scurrying behind him. And it isn't long before a voice pants out, "Oh good, Mr. Locksley, you're here."
He turns to find a flushed Ashley with a stack of paperwork in her hand, as well as, the worry lines of a sixty year old. He paces over to the front counter because he can tell by her knit brows and heavy frown that something is amiss.
She leans in close and whispers low so that the boys can't hear, which is rubbish, because that means he has to be the one to come up with a decent lie to calm the boys down. Ashley tells him that Zelena had forgotten that her husband, Walsh, had to work today and swore that she'd made sure of that because she'd planned a spa day for herself in Santa Fe for the day. That is code for she just lost track of the time in his opinion, but what does he know?
"She says she'll leave in approximately 30 to 45 minutes," Ashley finishes.
Robin's eyes grow wide, "What?! No, she needs to leave now!"
"She said she can't." her shoulders rise and fall defeated.
"Well, I don't bloody well care, now do I? Her arse needs to find its way either in her car headed back here now or on the next Rail Runner headed this way."
"That's part of the problem. The next Rail Runner isn't coming for nearly another hour."
Robin pinches the bridge of his nose "You're kidding."
"I wish I was."
"She can't find a shuttle bus from the town square in Santa Fe?" he tries.
"Not one that will take her this far."
His groan that follows is much louder and angrier than intended but it voices his frustrations perfectly. He rakes his hand roughly through his hair, sighing out his irritation. "So what am I to do when the school closes in thirty minutes?"
The corners of Ashley's lips downturn in a different fashion this time and into a puzzled look, trying to decipher what they're going to do with their two unaccompanied minors. Somehow, they both come to the conclusion that they should just wait on Regina to make the decision because she is far likely to be a better decision maker than the two of them.
When Regina returns, she is balancing a multicolored board game box, as well as what looks like two boxes of puzzles and a couple of books stacked atop it all. Robin rushes over to open the door for her as she stumbles with a little less grace than he imagines she'd like to have. She plops the various outlets of fun on the empty chair next to Roland before allowing herself to be whisked off to the side with Robin and Ashley, who fill her in on what happened.
If Regina's groan is any indication of how her day has gone, it sends Robin's brain into a frenzy of how to help in this situation but he hasn't the slightest clue as to a solution to the problem.
"Are we gonna have to call CPS?" Ashley's voice is almost inaudible.
Surprisingly, both Regina and Robin chime in with a resounding no. Robin doesn't hesitate looking over incredulously at his educational counterpart. There's a distant fear in her eyes, one that has yet to be tamed by the stony demeanor that she has learned to overpower all her other emotions. Perhaps, Henry has let on more with Regina than he thought.
He lifts his brow, asking what they're to do then and she holds his gaze for a second before turning back to Ashley with a sigh. "Can you get Mrs. West back on the phone?"
Ashley nods dutifully and bustles over to the phone on her desk, while Regina turns to Robin once more. Her eyes are pleading, desperate—something he gathers is not a regularity for her, so he lets down his guard, prepared to say yes to whatever it is that she asks of him. Honestly, how could he say no to those eyes anyway?
"How much are you willing to extend that offer of assistance?"
"As far as you need," he answers without a second thought.
"I have Mrs. West on the phone," Ashley calls out, leaving Robin to wait for Regina's request. But he follows her over to the phone where she picks up and gives a terse greeting to the other woman.
Robin can vaguely hear the sounds of the other woman trying to play off her flakiness, not in an overtly concerned way like a mother should be, but rather like the way he'd heard her speak earlier that day. It still baffles him how he could've spoken to her just a few hours prior and she still managed to forget.
Regina snaps a few times at the woman and is continuously short with her until she finishes by telling her that she is taking the boys home with her until she can return and follows with her address and apartment number to locate them once she has.
She slams the phone down and immediately reaches for her temples, massaging them in circle, slowly and deliberately. Robin gets another strong urge and this one is to come up behind her and give her shoulders a good rub, begging for her to relax and trust that everything will come together.
What is happening to him?
Regina doesn't even bother formally asking Robin to join them but she made it pretty clear that's what she wanted before Zelena West returned their phone call. Instead, she stalks back over to the boys and tells them to gather their things, as well as, asking if they will help her carry some of their things to the car. Then, she instructs them that she and Robin will promptly return after they make sure everything is squared away in their respective classrooms and to stay with Ms. Boyd for a few minutes longer.
And within those few minutes, Robin and Regina had locked up their classrooms, double checking that they've finished all the necessities for their lessons tomorrow and came back for the boys to take them back to Regina's place.
[:]
Regina picks a spot in her apartment's lot with another vacant spot for Robin to park in. The whole thing feels natural and it's weird for him the familiar feeling that's creeping up on him—like what they're doing in this moment feels… right.
But that feeling isn't right. He knows that much is true.
She looks exhausted when she gets out of the car and files down the driver's side to help Roland out of his seat, while Henry easily slides out on his own on the other side of the car. Robin does the same and scurries over to help the best he can, although, to no avail seeing that they've already made it to the sidewalk by the time he's made it's way over.
"Can you carry the games and stuff?" she asks Robin wearily. And he feels bad, nearly offering to let him take the boys for ice cream and let her go rest.
Instead, he just nods and does as he's told, collecting the various forms of fun that she'd retrieved from her classroom.
"Can I help?" Roland requests excitedly, which volleys Robin's gaze between him and Regina. When Regina consents, Roland toddles over to Robin's side and extends his arms outward for one of the boxes to be placed across them. Robin chooses the multicoloured one that is titled Trouble and places it in Roland's arms, who then races of like a jet with it, Henry running after him and yelling for him to be careful, which Roland took as a cue to mean it was time for a game of tag.
"You're sure this is a good idea?" Robin murmurs to her as they trail the boys side by side.
"Scared, Locksley?" she teases.
"No," he replies. "I mean, it's just they have a lot of energy and you seem like the type to have a lot of ugly breakable vases that their grandparents gave them and probably aren't that expensive but they act like is a prized possession anyway."
She purses her lips, mulling over her response. She settles on, "First of all, that's rude. Second, don't stereotype me, thief. And lastly, even if that were true, it's the sentiment that counts, not the vase itself. But I am fine with them coming in there because, at least, then, I can keep a good eye on them."
"Okay, princess," he smirks, "don't say I didn't warn you."
Regina only scoffs. She doesn't even call him out for the title despite the fact that they'd agreed that he'd stop calling her that. That's not to say that he doesn't like calling her by her own name, it's just a way to poke fun, and he likes it that way.
Her apartment is different than what he remembers—amazing how alcohol can damage a person's perception down to the very memory of something. It's not wholly different but there are little things like the fact that there is actually a television in her living room and he doesn't recollect seeing one. Then again, he hadn't really made it a point to look the last time. But there's also the walls, which are now a soft gray hue, except he swears they were white the last time. And lastly the curtains, which were a sleek black in his memory, but before him now, consists of black and white patterned box-pleat curtains accenting a sheer white eyelet curtain underneath.
He likes her place. It's very modern and chic, a trait he's not surprised belongs to a place of Regina Mills. It's also spacious, which is all too precious when it comes to apartments. Giving room for the nice, large black leather sectional and glass coffee table taking up the center of the room, and which are facing the television mounted on the wall. But the most stunning part of the whole place is what the sofa has its back to—an exquisite fireplace, framed by beautiful white molding and preceded by a marble hearth that's black as night. But the focal point of it, and what has Robin's undivided attention, is the miniature horse statue, placed at the top of the mantle.
He's reminded of when he first found out that he and Regina are now coworkers and she told him of her father and her prized steed, Rocinante. Though, he'd rather not admit that he's remembered such trivial details about Regina, that statue is what prompts him to speak first, "Is that supposed to be your horse?"
Regina is still ushering the boys to sit on the couch, when she looks over at Robin admiring the statue. She tenses, drawing her mouth into a fine line—it's a sore subject, now that was a detail he'd forgotten.
"Yes," she answers carelessly, "I had it modeled after Rocinante."
"It's lovely."
Just like that, her features soften and he daresay an incredibly subtle smile touches her lips. "Thank you. Now, come sit on the couch."
"I like horseys!" Roland pipes up.
"It's horses, sweetheart," Regina corrects, as she crouches low at Roland's feet. "But I'm very glad you like them. Maybe one day we can go look at some, hm?"
"Really?!"
It's an unfounded promise, Robin knows that; she can't make a deal like taking him to see horses—one, because what they're doing now is technically against the rules (teachers aren't meant to interact with the children in such a way as this), and two because he (and Regina, he's sure) don't think that Zelena West is going to be particularly keen on them encroaching on her parenting. But Regina makes the promise anyway because that is the best solution to the whole fucked up situation.
"Henry can come, too, right?"
"Of course, dear," Regina's smile is strained but she does her best to keep her composure as she agrees. "Now, do you boys like peanut butter and jelly?"
"Yes!" Roland exclaims, followed by Henry's solemn 'sure.'
Henry's been really quiet this whole time, and though Robin doesn't know much about him, he can tell that the fact that Zelena isn't there already is worrying him to death. Robin knows the feeling, fretting over whether mummy and daddy are going to pay you any mind that day and so he decides to take it upon himself to see if he can soothe the boy's worries.
"Can we has some juice?!" Roland asks excitedly.
"You should drink milk, Roland, it'll help you grow big and strong." He walks up to the back of the couch to tousle Roland's curls from behind. "Hey, why don't you go help Reg- I mean, Ms. Mills in the kitchen for a bit?" He takes his gaze down to Regina, tipping his head to Henry so that she can follow that he wants a moment alone with the boy.
She nods and extends her hand out to Roland, who takes it, hopping off the couch and skipping off to the kitchen with Regina.
Robin, however, takes that moment to swoop in and take Roland's place, plopping next to Henry and reaching for the box labeled Trouble. "You ever played this before?"
Henry nods, "Yeah, we used to play all the time two foster homes ago. Well, when the big kids were being nice, anyway."
"Well, I've never played, so you wanna help me set it up?"
He takes the box from Robin's hands and empties its contents on the coffee table, "You've really never played?"
Robin takes a deep breath, because no, he's never played, though they do have a game like Trouble where he's from, called Frustration, his parents weren't much of the board game playing type. "Yes, well where I'm from, it wasn't that popular," he lies. In fact, it was growing increasingly in popularity as he was growing up. But, unfortunately, not only did his parents refuse to buy 'such a fickle waste of time,' Robin Locksley didn't have a soul to play with.
He once tried to get Cyrus and Alice to play with him but for some reason, one now a blur in his memory, they decided not to. And thus, Robin grew up never knowing how to play Frustration.
But he doesn't care to linger any longer on the subject, so he makes a crucial, yet subtle slip in a new direction, "Did you like that foster home?"
"Yeah," he shrugs, mindlessly putting the pegs in their respective holes. "Ms. Fisher was always nice to us, especially when the big kids were being mean. She actually liked us."
"You think the Wests don't like you?" Robin infers. He can feel the prickling on the crown of his scalp, the dread that comes with Henry's next words.
"Of course they don't."
Robin's brows instantly fuse together in confusion, "Why would you say such a thing?"
"Because nobody will ever love us, that's what they said."
"The Wests said that to you?"
Henry shakes his head emphatically. "No, the big kids at our last house. They said that we're bad and that nobody can love a bad kid."
"Henry you aren't bad," Robin scolds. "You know that as well as I do."
"No you don't. If I'm not, then how come nobody's ever wanted to adopt us?"
His heart shatters. Honestly, he hasn't the slightest clue what to say, either. If only he knew why parents are so shitty sometimes and why kids get dealt a sodding hand for no other reason than that the world is just a cruel and terrible place. What Robin would've given not to have had the parents that he had or to find parents that will love Henry and Roland as their very own, but it's all for naught.
"Because you just haven't found the right fit yet. Somewhere out there, your mum and dad are waiting, you just have to wait until they find you," he attempts a consolation and he doesn't know if it has any affect but he can hope.
"What if they never find us?"
"Then, I'll adopt you." He didn't mean to say it but even when he does, it's meant to be a joke, except as it lingers there on his tongue, a brief thought flits across his mind that he's actually sincere. That if anything happened to those boys, that he'd protect them no matter what.
And it's when Henry's face lights up for the first time since Robin has met him, and he exudes his excitement into the word, "Really?" that Robin knows that he absolutely is serious.
He hasn't the slightest clue what that means or how he would even go about taking the boys in—and nevermind that he hasn't the damnedest idea how to parent, but he's dedicated now, willing to set aside any and all things for these boys, if he has to. He can almost hear Marian singing in his head, Stop trying to take care of everyone, Robin. You can't save the world, but he dismisses it with an "Absolutely," in return to Henry, who follows with something unexpected—a hug, squeezing Robin's limbs tightly to his torso, and sending his heart nearly out of his chest.
"But Henry," he warns when they break apart, "there's no need to give up hope that you won't find a family that loves you. Think about that first. And consider me a back up plan, okay? Can you do that for me?" Once Henry nods, he adds, "And for now, let's keep it our little secret, okay?"
"Okay," Henry answers matter-of-factly.
Robin lifts his hand for Henry to shake, much like what he'd done with Roland previously, except in more adult fashion, because it seems that's how the elder brother views himself. They shake on it, and Robin takes his other hand to pat Henry on the back, a metaphorical pat on the back for Robin, since he prides himself on bringing a little bit of peace, even though it was based off an intentional joke that became and unintentional promise. And it scares him a bit, but, surely, there is a family out there waiting for the boys (even if it isn't the Wests—although, given today, Robin sincerely hopes not) and they'll find them soon. But Robin can rise to the challenge, if not, right?
Right?
"Okay," Regina's voice breaks the bonding moment, "Henry, Roland said you like strawberry jam. I hope that's okay."
"Yeah, thanks, Ms. Mills," Henry's tune is entirely changed and Regina picks up on it, eyeing Robin with impressiveness.
When Regina's eyes finally leave Robin's and land on the coffee table, she sees the laid out board game, awaiting their play. "Oh, you guys set up Trouble."
"Yeah, did you know Mr. Locksley's never played before?" Henry informs with a mouth full of sandwich.
"Henry, chew first then speak, sweetie." Regina chastises, then once again, looks back to Robin, surprised. "You haven't?"
Robin simply shrugs and sighs. "'Fraid not."
"Well, I guess it'll be that much easier to kick your butt," she teases.
Both of the boys ooooh at her comment, and Robin stifles a grin. "Challenge accepted, princess. Eat up boys, and let me show you what it's like for Ms. Mills to lose."
The boys snicker and then scarf down their lunch, probably faster than safe, though Regina does throw in a few warnings for them to slow down. The boys, however, are uninhibited, ready to see this showdown of epic proportions. Henry puts his bet down that Robin would, at least, beat Regina (where he would win, of course), whereas Roland found promise in Regina.
After Robin and Henry grab two chairs out of the dining room, each player chooses their respective colour. Henry is automatically drawn to the blue, his favorite colour, he's sure everyone notes. Then, when they prompt Roland he muses and then settles on 'lello,' which leaves Robin with green and Regina with red. Regina and Henry take up residence on the couch, while Roland and Robin take their table chairs. And the game begins.
Roland ends up being the highest roller with a six, making him first, then Regina, Henry, and lastly, Robin. Truthfully, though, he does his best to mask it, he feels entirely unmatched against three well-versed players of Trouble, but he gets the hang of it, watching the others as they get their first six and move out of home. And for a little while it goes in a steady loop, with everyone rolling less than a six and simply moving his or her single piece closer to its destination.
That is, until Robin is the first to roll a new six. However, an issue strikes him and he doesn't know what to do—there's already a peg in his start hole. He looks up to his fellow players in confusion. Regina's cheeks are now sucked in so tightly that it's a wonder she hasn't swallowed them and her eyes and nostrils flared in fear. Henry, on the other hand, is laughing to the point that he's nearly falling off of the sectional.
"What do I do?"
No one answers, at first. It isn't until Henry regains his composure that he informs Robin what the situation is. "You have a choice," he informs. "You can either move the piece you have six spaces, or you can move a new piece out of home. But that means that Ms. Mills' piece has to go back to home."
It takes a minute for Robin to gather that that means that Regina will be virtually, and actually quite literally, sent back to square one.
"Robin," she warns with a tone that would usually scare the shit out of anyone, but, oh, it's music to Robin's ears, and he has to do everything in his power not to start cackling. She totally disregards Roland calling her out for using Robin's first name.
"You will regret this," she tries again; there's an undertone of laughter hinted in her voice, which only pushes him closer to the home peg.
"I'm telling you don't want to do this."
It's all too tempting, though, and his finger finally rests on the new peg, releasing the exasperated sigh, he's certain Regina's been holding onto in anticipation, making it only easier to gloat. He holds fast to her line of sight as he lifts his peg and Regina's concurrently, placing his where hers once was, and very slowly and deliberately putting her peg back where it belongs.
"I don't think you understand the trouble you've just gotten into Mr. Locksley," she finally breaks the weighted silence after he's set the peg back down.
"Nice pun, Ms. Mills," he delivers with a wry smile, "r'you supposed to be an advertiser for the game and lose this badly?"
Her tongue jets her cheek out. "Oh, just you wait."
She's right though because it would seem that all betrayals in the realm of Trouble come with a price, for it isn't long before Henry returns the favor in kind, conquering one of Robin's pieces and sending right back to where it came from, something that Regina Mills seems to get quite the delight out of. The cycle goes on, then with them mostly rolling and moving and rolling and moving, with the occasional exclamation when someone sends someone else's peg back or someone made it to their destination.
Soon, it dwindles down to the wire. Henry and Robin have only one piece left but are stuck in home, Regina has two left but both are out on the board with one dangerously close to home and the other having just started, but the man of the hour is Roland Cassidy who has only one piece left and only half the board left to conquer. While the other three had been trying their hardest to best the other by sending their pegs back, Roland had slipped under the radar, only getting swept up in the war once, but otherwise came out unscathed and the one destined to win.
And he does. Roland wins by a landslide, luckily rolling the exact right amount on his final roll to glide into the finish line. Regina, however, struggles to get the right number to get her last peg in but manages just before Henry can get his final one in, leaving him in third and Robin Locksley dead last—the only bad part being his bruised ego and the teasing Regina will surely inflict upon him.
"Can we play again, pretty please?" Roland begs sweetly.
Regina glances down at her watch, prompting Robin to do the same. They'd been playing for almost 45 minutes now, meaning Zelena should be arriving any time soon.
"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetie. Your foster mom should be here any minute. Why don't we watch a little TV while we wait just a little bit longer, how about that?"
"Okay! Can we watch SpongeBob? Pleeeeease?" Roland's last word extenuated for emphasis and only stressed harder when Henry chimes in on the please.
The adults cave and the four of them end up settling on the sofa with Robin and Regina on each arm and Henry and Roland in between them, respectively. Robin looks over to see Roland tucking himself further and further into Regina's side and it brings an undeniable smile to his face, one that is mirrored on Regina's, he notices, when she looks across the couch at Robin.
It's a split second, a momentary lapse, where Robin Locksley thinks again that this moment is right, that this is exactly how it's meant to be. This unit that is sitting together, watching SpongeBob, is meant to be together. It hits him, then, hard and fast, like an arrow straight through his heart. Maybe he could get used to this. Perhaps, his earlier promise to Henry isn't so unfounded after all. This is nice. This is good.
But it's not just the boys his heart jumps for, not at all, because when his eyes melt into the chocolate ones starting back at him, his heart stutters relentlessly in his chest.
No. That's not right. He knows that that isn't. He can't. There's no way in hell that he has feelings for Regina Mills. It's impossible and… wrong. But then why can't he shake the overwhelming feeling that he belongs right here, like this, with her and with the boys.
He starts to squirm in his seat, thinking to rise and declare that he needs a little air but before he can even get up, there a quick rapping on the door.
"My mommy's here!" Roland squees.
Robin can hear Henry hissing low, "Stop calling her that." And Roland straightens up, pouting slightly now after his brother's reprimand.
Regina makes her way over to the door to let in the red headed space cadet, who doesn't seem the least bit frazzled like a normal mother that forgot her children at school. Guess the spa really works, or at least, that's what Robin is going to let himself believe because the alternative is unbearable.
"Were they good?" Zelena asks in a severely professional tone.
Regina smiles politely in turn and Robin can see one of her fists clench against her hip. "Of course they were. They were a delight."
"Oh, well thanks for your trouble," she extends a fifty dollar bill to the brunette who balks at it.
"I don't want your money," she says shortly. "But what I do want is to know that these boys are safe. And next time you want to neglect them for your little 'spa day,' I'll make sure to call CPS on your ass so fast, you're gonna need another spa day to undo the damage I would cause. Am I clear?"
Robin feels a swell of pride and gratitude towards Regina, speaking her mind and laying out the truth as it should be.
"You don't get to tell me how to parent, Ms…?"
"Mills. And you'll do well to remember that because you're right, Ms. Mills may not be able to tell you how to parent, but Ms. Mills sure as hell can make sure CPS does."
Zelena glowers at Regina for a moment, and he assumes that Regina is returning the look but her back is to him, so he can't be sure. After those moments pass, Zelena merely whips around and stalks out the door, barking that the boys follow her.
Regina catches onto Henry's arm as he goes to cross the threshold. "Hey, you'll tell me if something isn't right, yes?" she whispers.
Henry nods quickly before jetting out the door after the other two, not another word said. When they're out of sight, she returns to the couch, dropping herself on the edge of the seat she'd previously occupied.
"I'm scared for them," she says timidly and Robin can feel a bit of his heart ice over—his blood turning cold.
"Hey," he coos, shifting over closer to her and placing a hand atop hers, "you did all you could. And you're doing a right solid job at it. Don't worry, we'll make sure nothing happens to those boys."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
She pauses, dragging her trembling bottom lip through her teeth. "So, what did you tell Henry?"
"Same thing I just told you. I won't let a damn thing happen to them, I swear it on my life."
He knows he should've confronted the issue from this morning with Henry and with Regina now, but all that matters to him is caring for them. He just wants them to all be okay.
"Me too," she volleys back quietly. She clears her throat after a few seconds of her looking distantly at the floor and him peering hard at the part in her hair. Soon, his eyes are met back with hers again. "So do you like lasagna?"
"Huh?" he answers confusedly.
"The food? Lasagna? Do you like it?"
"Yeah, sure, of course." Gods, he's a disaster.
"Good, because you're eating here tonight."
"You're gonna cook me dinner?" He smiles foolishly.
Her nose tips to the air, as is custom for her. "Well, it's the least I could do as payment for helping me watch the boys."
He squeezes the hand his is still resting on, "It was my pleasure, really. But I won't turn down a free meal."
"Not entirely free. Can't have you stealing from me, too, thief, at least since I'm not sleeping with you."
"We can always change that you know," he interjects.
She rolls her eyes, scoffing. "Stop talking and get in the kitchen."
"Ooooh, the kitchen. An interesting place to start," he can't help himself but to say.
"Jesus, I think I'm going to retract my dinner offer…"
"Okay, okay," he concedes, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I'll behave."
"You better."
She leads them into the kitchen, which is small and not surprisingly so, given how large her living room is. But he doesn't get a chance to take it in before she's bustling around the room, pulling out pots, pans and an oven dish. "Okay, Locksley, can you preheat the oven to 375 and then grab the ground beef out of the refrigerator?"
He nods as she takes the big pot to the sink to fill it up with water. He does as he's told, preheating the oven to 375 degrees and then moving on to his retrieval from the refrigerator, but he's stunted before he can complete his task because he's suddenly come face to face with the quick sketch he'd done of Regina's horse (poorly, he might add, now that he's reviewing it).
"Regina…" he starts, slowly, slipping the drawing out from beneath the magnet it's hanging on and turning to face its owner. "What's this?"
"Hmmm?" she hums absentmindedly, moving to face him. Upon impact, her face completely drains of blood. "Don't."
"You hung up my drawing."
"On the refrigerator. I'd do the same thing with a five year old—wow, seems fitting don't you think?" She shuts him down.
"You like my drawing." It's another blanket statement, usually meant to be asked in normal conversation but he knows statements will get him faster to the truth.
"I like Rocinante."
"You like my drawing of Rocinante."
"That doesn't mean I like you," she fires back.
"You just like my drawing skills."
"No, I just like the picture."
"Ha!" he exclaims. "So, you like my drawing."
She sighs, "If I say yes, will you be quiet?"
"Well, I can't make promises like that."
"Robin."
"Okay, just say it."
She grimaces, "Fine, I like the drawing of Rocinante…" he waits for her to give him ownership, "…that you did."
"Thank you," he replies with a wide grin. "I'll try to remember you when I get my own high class art gallery."
"Ah, yes, my greatest achievement," she mocks.
He chuckles softly, "That picture is mine."
"Oh please," she dismisses.
"No, really it is, I swear it."
"How?" she asks dubiously.
"Because it makes you happy, whether you want to admit that or not—and that makes me happy."
"Your happiness is defined by mine?"
"Not 'defined' per se, but I mean, it just makes me glad that it can bring you happiness."
"You getting soft on me, Locksley?"
"What if I am?" he tries.
"Then I'll call an exorcist right away because, surely, you're possessed. Then I'll start a relief campaign to get as many coats, as possible, to Hell because it'll be freezing down there."
"So, I get treated like a nut for being a normal human and not a robot, where's the justice in that?"
"You get treated like a nut for not being like you."
"So you want me to stay as I am?"
"I didn't say that."
"Not in so many words but, yes, you did. You don't want me to change. You like me the way that I am."
"No, I'd just be concerned you had a traumatic brain injury or something. Although, perhaps you had one long ago, hence why you are the way you are."
He knows it's no use. She'll never reveal her true feelings on who he is because Robin believes, or at least wants to believe, that Regina rather likes him for the way that he is, that she enjoys his company, and that she's ultimately glad that she knows him. Though, she, like him in regards to her, won't openly admit it—they're both too bloody stubborn to be the first to do so. He's okay with that, though. He's fond of their game of avoidance, and he'll do it as long as she let's them.
He beams an ostentatious smile, one that doesn't go unnoticed by Regina, as he intends.
"What?"
"Just glad you like me, TBI and all. That's very kind of you."
She picks up on his angle directly. "So if I say I don't like you, then I look like an ass and if I say I do then you get the self-satisfaction?" she surmises.
"Yes, that would be the goal."
She huffs, "Well, you're not getting an answer, because you're gonna get out of my kitchen."
"You don't want my help?"
"No I want you out. You'll mess it up anyway. Go sit on the couch and watch some TV or something," she suggests.
He does as he's told, shuffling back into the living room to plop down on her black leather sectional. He picks up the remote and finds the menu button, which leads to a screen with multiple apps, a guide, a search bar, a games app (something he momentarily considers choosing), On Demand, her DVR and lastly a Netflix app. He decides on the last item, there's no better way to pry into someone's personal life/tastes than reviewing their Netflix queue.
"Hey," he hollers out to her, "I'm not gonna find any porny movies in your recently watched Netflix queue, am I?"
"What?!" He hears the oven door slam and the slamming of the balls of her feet against the tile, which ceases, when they find the carpet. "What do you think you're doing?" But by the time she's reached him to actually see in real time what he's up to, it's too late. He's found her continue watching list and weeding through it.
"Why haven't you finished watching so many of these?"
"Because I have a life." She sounds annoyed but it only brings him pleasure.
"So let's watch one of these."
"What? No."
"C'mon, how about…" he scrolls a little until he lands on Love Actually, "British romantic comedy at its finest?" But Regina crinkles her nose and respectfully declines. It isn't until Robin lands on Breakfast at Tiffany's that her eyes light up and Robin knows that he's found the one. "Okay, I haven't seen this one in its entirety anyway, so, Breakfast at Tiffany's it is."
"But we'll have to eat and—"
"So we'll eat in here," he offers nonchalantly.
"Yes and get food and wine all over my carpet?"
He takes a lesson from Regina Mills quip handbook. "Oh, what are we five? I think we can manage."
It takes Regina a spell before she finally yields to Robin's suggestion and they end up dangerously consuming her (very delicious) lasagna and wine on opposite ends of the sectional, as the film starts.
"If you get anything on my carpet, you'll regret the day you were born," she threatens.
"You realize that threatening me is only going to make me want to purposefully dump this on your floor."
"You are the most incredibly annoying person I've ever met, Robin Locksley. I'll have you know that."
"Well, thank you."
"Wasn't a compliment," she retorts.
"Given who you are, I consider it a compliment."
"Shut up and watch the damn movie. And don't you dare knock it. It's one of my favorites."
They're introduced to their heroine, Holly Golightly, who seems to live a lavish life, though she lives in a danky, cluttered-yet-totally-empty apartment with a nutcase super and a new resident, a man by the name of Paul, whom is deemed quickly as 'Fred' by Holly. The first thirty minutes is dedicated to the unfolding of their friendship and the rest of Robin and Regina's meals.
Soon, Holly and Paul have ignited a companionship, becoming close enough friends that Holly slips into Paul's room late in the evening to avoid a clingy guy. He feels like Regina would more than likely do the same thing if she was put in a similar situation. Holly is up walking around, smoking a cigarette, while Paul remains in bed, listening to her tell stories of her brother, that is until she's interrupted by the chime of the clock.
"It can't be four-thirty, it just can't. D'you mind if I just get in with you for a minute? It's alright, it really is. We're friends that's all."
Regina laughs in derision.
"What? You don't think that's legit?" he asks.
She cocks her head to one side and raises a brow. "What do you think?"
"You don't think two friend's can do that?"
He knows the answers no and he almost agrees with her because it is a romantic gesture of sorts, but as is Robin's custom, he's terribly fond of pushing Regina Mills' buttons.
He doesn't even need to attempt to catch Regina's eye, because she's looking right back at him across the couch, when he looks over at her. She must sense the grin daring to creep up on his face because she quickly delivers a defiant "No." But his grin only gets wider, causing her frown to only grow as well. "Don't even think about it."
"We're friends that's all," he teasingly parrots Audrey Hepburn with a terrible imitation of her voice.
"Not friends who do that."
He can't deny the boyish lift of his heart at her admitting their friendship.
"You believe so deeply in this movie and now you're saying it's wrong?"
"What I believe is that they aren't even friends at this point. It's clear that he's madly in love with her from the get go and what sensible woman jumps into bed with a guy for no other reason than to go to sleep?"
Fair point.
Robin is the one to roll his eyes this time. "Oh, please, it's not like either of them were planning to have sex with the other in that moment. It's totally platonic."
"It's intimate."
"It's friendly."
"Is not."
"Only if you make it that way. What are you afraid of, Mills? Scared it'll be more than that if you curl up next to me?"
"No," she answers flatly. "Well, not for me. Maybe it means more to you."
"Swear on my life it doesn't." He must not value his life too greatly then, it seems.
"Says you."
"I also say that if you won't do it, I think it means the same for you."
"So, me—" she shudders, "cuddling up to you will prove it doesn't?"
He simply shrugs, saying nothing else. He secretly wants her to choose, not because he gets her in a catch-22, but because she wants to be near him. He watches her mull it over while steadily settling back into his corner, convinced that she's still deciding against it. And he executively decides that it's for the best, partially because he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable and partially because he runs the risk of exacerbating that little seed that was planted in his heart earlier today with her and the boys. Robin Locksley can't have that. He can't have feelings.
But that stops becoming anything that matters when he hears the rubbing of the leather, loudly introducing Regina moving closer to him. She doesn't immediately curl up into his side but sits a distance away and he doesn't make any motion to con her into coming any closer. Instead, he gives his attention back to the movie, where Mr. Yunioshi is yelling in the phone at Paul for Holly's party. He tries to cover his smile as he can feel her creeping closer to him.
And upon the meeting between Sally Tomato and Paul Varjack, Robin's right side gets encompassed in heat. "Make this weird and I'll destroy you if it is the last thing I do," she mutters. "I'm simply proving a point."
"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he murmurs softly. He makes sure to keep his arm settled on the top of the couch, not touching Regina. And she isn't touching him either, technically. There is a sliver of space between their legs and the rest of her body is set in the framework of his arm but not exactly touching it.
However, she must feel the vibrations of his chest as he hums along to Hepburn singing Moon River, because she asks, "You know this song?"
"Darling, all of Sinatra's records covering this song belonged to me. Of course I do," he breaks his melody just briefly to inform her, before joining back in with "…rainbow's end," only to slip up, mistaking the next line for 'my Huckleberry friend,' but Regina laughs and quickly intercepts, finishing the original line for him with waiting 'round the bend and emphasizing the correct placement of my Huckleberry friend. But then together they end very loud and obnoxiously with "Moon river and me."
"Well, Mr. Sinatra would be disappointed. As would Ms. Hepburn."
"That they would," Robin laughs. "That they would."
The twosome falls silent for awhile, with nothing but the occasional sound of them sipping their wine during Doc's arrival and subsequent departure.
When they get to Holly's drinking binge, Robin starts chuckling.
"What?" she inquiries.
"It's you!" Robin cries out.
She whaps his breast bone. "Be quiet."
It isn't until Paul is practically dumping 2E (Regina is now resting against his shoulder) and Paul's telling her how he likes the feeling of being able to help someone, namely Holly, for once, that Regina exclaims that now it is Robin before them, incarnate of Paul.
"Little Mister Helpful," she pokes fun, as she pinches his cheek.
"I believe the wine has gotten to your head, love." He glances down at her kindly and he can feel his throat dry up and his heart dive right to the pit of his stomach. She's smiling widely, now and he's totally captivated by her. She's so beautiful that he can't get over it, even though now her hair is in a messy bun, thrown up while she'd been cooking, and most of her make up was gone too. But she's the most gorgeous thing, anyhow. He has to control the thudding of his heart in his chest, but instead, his reaction is just to wrap his arm tighter around her shoulder, bringing her closer to him.
She traces a finger against his chest, murmuring into it, "Oh, hush you."
He chuckles, watching her head bob in time with the lift of his chest.
"Robin," she says so quietly, he almost misses it.
"What, love?"
"Thank you for helping today." She's still tracing her finger along his pectoral, leaving goosebumps in her wake.
Anything for you, Regina. "Well, I'd do anything for those boys."
"Me too." Her hand finally stops the circles and her palm finally rests on his chest. She yawns.
"Tired?"
"A little," she admits. "But the movie's almost over so it's okay."
"You're sure?"
"Mhm, now, hush, it's getting to the best part," she scolds.
He resigns again to silence, this time a touch longer than the first few times.
"What's that?"
"Fifty dollars for the powder room."
"Ooooh, that's cold," Robin whispers, but Regina says nothing. "You think he was wrong?" Still nothing. "Regina?" But his last question is pointless because he's already looking down to find her sleeping against his chest.
Robin relaxes, trying to finish watching the movie but he can't help but feel beguiled by the hum of her snores. It's a really beautiful sound and it almost tugs him into the land of dreams. He manages to keep awake though, watching the finale of the film unfold before him.
When Holly gets out of the taxicab to go fetch the cat and reunite with Paul, the Moon River theme returns once more and he hums along, mixing with the melody of her breathing sounds. And he's overcome with a peacefulness that he doesn't want to rid himself of.
He lingers long after Netflix has returned back to its main menu and he almost thinks to just succumb to sleep, letting it overpower him slowly… just for a little while…
[:]
Robin hasn't a clue what time it is when he finally rouses again but it only feels like a few minutes. Regina is still sound asleep against him, her legs sprawled out across the rest of the sectional. He knows he needs to get up and go home. They have school tomorrow and he'll have to shower and change tomorrow morning. However, he stays in for just a moment, breathing in the smell of her shampoo and relishing in the radiation of her body heat.
Okay, Robin it's time to go.
He wriggles a little in his place, thankfully in a position where he hopes he can set her head on a throw pillow and slip out. But just before he heads to the door, he thinks, despite the heat, that she may get cold.
He knows he shouldn't go snooping around her home but he seeks out a blanket anyway, eventually finding one in a linen closet in her bathroom. When he returns, he takes a pause watching her chest move in a steady rhythm. It's different from the last time that he abandoned her passed out drunk on the very same couch just a few weeks prior. They're closer now, far too close, if he's honest. Robin knows he's reaching a danger zone, developing something that might resemble an attraction. It's a mistake, he knows it. Regina Mills doesn't like being a caged up animal—that's why she won't commit to anything she has at present or why she won't divulge anything about her past. Regina is Holly Golightly; she's a wild thing.
You mustn't give your heart to a wild thing.
He crosses, then back over to where she is, drapes the blanket over her and places a gentle kiss against her temple. "Goodnight, wild thing."
You mustn't give your heart to a wild thing.
But, oh, how tempting it is.