Perfume

Prompted by outlawqueener on tumblr

Everyone has yelled at him tonight, it seems: Marian, Little John, Friar Tuck, Tinkerbell, Snow, David, Henry, Regina, even Roland has sensed his papa's rare foul mood and taken it upon himself to be cranky and difficult.

It's nearly three in the morning before Robin breaks free of all of it, stumbling into the forest for a moment of much-needed solitude. He leans against an old pine with thick bark, barely noticing the way it digs into his back as he collapses to the ground, his face in his hands.

Everyone in this town is so concerned with Marian's heart, Regina's, Roland's, that no one has bothered to ask about his.

Her perfume lingers on his shirtsleeves, and he hates everyone who has yelled at him, hates her for this misery, (could never hate her); for he is no longer in love with his wife; he loves the woman who killed her and took Roland's mother away (and he hates himself most of all—because this inhale that smells of her, this breath of his love's perfume, is the only deep breath he's taken today).

Adorable

Prompt:Robin finds out that the evil queen is short, he thinks it's adorable.

As Robin scoots towards Regina, firelight flickering across them and the untouched picnic basket, he leverages a hand to the back of her calves to draw her closer. His hand slides down to her heel, up to the back of her knee, as he thinks again of how much shorter she'd been when she left her shoes by the door as they entered twenty minutes ago, and he'd seen her for the first time at her natural height.

"Why do you wear such high heels all the time?" he asks, catching her eyes, his thumb stroking back and forth at her ankle.

Her eyes scrunch half-closed playfully as she replies, "It is difficult to be intimidating when the shortest of palace guards is several inches taller than oneself."

He smirks, gives her that winking grin. "I have a feeling you would have managed."

She moves and settles her shoulders like a cat stretching in the sun. "Are you saying you find me intimidating?"

"Mmm," he leans forward to kiss the underside of her jaw, nudging his nose into her cheek. "Not at all, Milady," he says in her ear. "I find you adorable, really."

She cranes her neck back at that, a playful smirk on her face, her hand in the hair at his nape. "Adorable?"

"Mm-hm. Does something else work better for you? Captivating? Cute? Delightf—"

"Shut up," she sighs as she kisses him. "If you had gotten to charming I was going to have to kick you out of this house."

He winks. "Good thing I didn't, then."

She giggles, actually giggles, joy and amusement bubbling out of her, and she uses the hand at his neck to guide his lips to hers.

Take It

Prompted by biaaylesworth on tumblr

"Take it," Robin urges, catching her eyes.

Regina opens her door wider, coming to stand in the doorframe. "What?"

"My heart." His voice breaks, and he glances a their shoes for a moment, then back up, eyes boring into hers. "Take it out." He picks up her right hand and drops it on his chest, then moves his hands, as if in a gesture of surrender, that he won't stop her. He lets his eyes fall shut.

Suddenly unbalanced, he stumbles back, almost tripping down their stairs, pushed back by her palm.

"Go to hell," she snarls.

He trips back to her. "Please," he begs.

"I don't care if you understand what my dark magic can do now; I'm not your toy."

"Regina," he grabs her hand again, squeezing it against the center of his chest, "Ican't live with it—"

"You think it feels good to me, to have my heart in my chest right now?"

He chokes on tears. "It's yours," he whispers.

Her hurt rises into anger. "What a comfort that would be, then, to put it in my vault with the other hearts I've stolen. Or were you expecting me to try to control you with it?"

"I didn't—I can't live with it; I can't think straight."

Regina hates the empathy creeping up her spine, gives into it anyway, takes a heavy breath and lets it out. When she speaks again, her voice has calmed. "I'm not taking out your heart, Robin."

"Why?" he pleads, standing absolutely still two feet away.

"Because you don't want your son to have a heartless father. And neither do I. I have no desire to control you." She tilts her head, searching his face. "Why are you really here?"

"Just a little test, Dearie!" he cackles, his face melting into the shimmery reptilian skin of the Dark One.

Regina gasps, backing away, trying to slam the door…

—-

Regina flinches, throwing off her sheet and blankets, panting, tears falling down her cheeks without her notice, left behind by the dream. The hollow sounds of Robin's heartbeat echo in her ears, the phantom pulse against her hand, her determination to keep her door locked to any and all visitors stronger than ever.

Mayor Mills

Prompt: Some snow/Regina, maybe inspired by the deleted scene?

Regina's fists clench into budget proposals at the knock on her door. Is it not possible, really, for these idiots to leave her alone to her work?

The knocking intensifies. She tosses the papers onto her desk, standing on her four-inch black stilettos, smoothing her black dress, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the fireplace to make sure her makeup still adequately covers the bags under her eyes.

At the door, she lifts and drops her shoulders, schooling her features into stern indifference.

"Snow," she says flatly.

"Regina," the woman greets, nodding. "May I come in?" The woman fidgets with her cardigan and tilts her head.

"I'm working."

Snow's expression grows sheepish.

"What?"

"The town thinks—I mean, since I would be their rightful ruler in the Enchanted Forest, they think I should be mayor. Seeing as your election was…rigged."

"My election was accomplished by a curse."

Snow wets her lips and raises an eyebrow.

"Snow, dear," Regina continues, as haughtily as she can manage, "I did come by the throne through marriage."

"Still, I think with everything's that's happened, people are wondering if it's a good idea—"

"You mean since Marian reminded them that I've murdered their family and friends." (And Regina hates herself for it, but her stomach drops at the thought of Robin as a member of the vague "town" that wants her gone, when just last week he was the one person who she had trusted not to desert her. But it seems nothing in her daily life is safe from this, not her son who Emma has tried to take away again and again, not Robin, her—not even her job.)

"Regina—"

"Fine."

"I don't mean to—"

"I said fine, Mary Margaret." Regina takes determined steps back to her desk to retrieve her purse, her heels thudding against the thin carpet. She digs out the office keys, and stuffs them into Mary Margaret's hands. "Budget reports are on my desk. They're due Friday."

"Regina, wait just a moment, I—"

"I don't think I will." Regina yanks open the door, adding with a final glance at the empty fireplace, the hole on the mantelpiece where she used to keep her best bottle of red wine, "Henry is welcome at home anytime he wishes. The rest of you stay the hell away from me."

The door slams shut behind her.