He wakes slowly and with a certain grogginess about him, frowning into the pillow his face is burrowed into until he remembers why he's feeling a little stale. The cider had certainly been a little stronger than she'd let on last night and had, thankfully, allowed him to ease into conversation with her without worrying about sounding like a complete prat, though he can't quite recall if he'd tried to hit on her or not…no, he mustn't have because he can remember laughter, lots of laughter, more so towards the end of the night but she'd been cheerful, jovial and bright eyed with Henry's return and had allowed the boy to stay up a little past his bedtime, had sat with him cuddled to her chest, sitting on her lap on the couch with his legs curled up inside her own, his socked toes slotted between the sofa and the legs she had crossed around him (she'd changed into silk pyjamas with unnecessary apologies to Robin about her need for casual, comfy attire but it had been a very long day and she wanted to hold her boy close without the restriction of her dress) as she'd stroked lean fingers through his hair all the while talking to Robin, Henry sometimes conversing himself though the mini adventure that he'd had seemed to be catching up to him with the way his eyelids dropped and he fell heavier against his mother's chest, one arm wedged between them whilst the other was pressed against her chest with his fingers clutching at the soft collar of her pyjama top.
She'd sent him up to bed a little while later, had kissed his cheek and whispered soft words to him that Robin couldn't hear nor had he tried to because it was clearly between mother and son and he felt he'd pried enough into their business for one day, no matter how unintentionally it had been. Whatever was said had had Henry pulling back to grin at her with wide questioning eyes and when she'd only nodded in confirmation of his silent question and pursed lips to hold back her own grin, he'd whooped with delight and thrown his arms around her neck, forcing her back a little with the force of his hug (though she didn't seem to mind), declaring that she was the best Mom ever. Robin had seen then how Henry's declaration had pulled tears to her eyes, had watched as she'd closed those dark delights and turned her face into her son's neck, nuzzling there for a moment as she held him around the waist with one arm resting against the length of his back in order to tangle gentle fingers into his boyish locks with the other, before he was pulling back with an I love you! And a g'night Robin, thanks for bringing me home to which he'd replied with a smile and a my pleasure, because seeing the love so clearly shared between the boy and his mother, it was more thanks than was necessary and had him so very glad that his first assumption, that perhaps Henry was a child running away from an abusive home, was so very wrong.
She'd brought out the cider when Henry's door had clicked shut and the sound of him moving around his room had quietened indicating that he was in bed, she had poured Robin a generous helping from the crystal decanter that sat upon the coffee table between them (he had watched the way in which the muscles of her toned arms had flexed as she'd moved to place it there) before pouring a smaller glass for herself, telling him that the drink was well deserved for him and long overdue for her after waking to find her son's bed empty and sheets cold with the absence of him.
They'd talked, had spoken of everything that had happened that day prior to Robin arriving with Henry. She'd told him of how hard Henry had found it when he'd discovered he was adopted, something he was more than surprised she was willingly sharing with him, and how, at first, he'd shunned her, had shut her out of everything that he was thinking, that he was feeling and though he'd long since come to terms with his heritage and had even met his birth mother a couple of times over the years, when he'd disappeared she'd feared instantly that he'd never return to her. Robin had comforted her, told her that Henry's love for her was not in any question nor doubt, especially not with how he'd instantly defended her in the car when Robin had made the assumption that he had run away from an abusive home, something he told her with a little apprehension and an apology to finish it off. She had reassured him that anyone would have come to that same conclusion when finding a lost boy and she'd thanked him for finding him and for bringing him home to her again, for insuring his safety when he could have just left him "many others would have". They'd then moved onto lighter topics, memories of childhood (his spent in a small little village in the south and England and hers spent in this very town), memories of schooling, silly inconsequential things that meant nothing to hear but certainly something to know.
Yes, he'd had a delightful night with Mayor Regina and was quite looking forward to seeing her again, if she would allow it. Right now though, with the early rumblings of an empty stomach, Robin was quite content to mosey on down to the diner this B&B was connected to and see just what spoils a town like this could offer a stranger like him.
The place was full, brimming with the sounds of life as he walked through the swinging door leading from the B&B into the diner. He liked it instantly, the sounds of cutlery clinking against crockery, of loud laughter, of children chattering to their parents, to their small friends, speaking in their own little language. There was an air of happiness that danced around him and lingered on him, clinging to the cotton of his jumper, to the dark wash denim of his jeans as he took in the place from his spot just in front of the door leading out into the B&B hallway.
He was somewhat unashamed in his silent admission of idiocy as he glances around at the faces once again, looking, searching for the town's illustrious mayor and her son. They didn't seem to have arrived yet, he looked to the clock hanging above the entrance to the diner door, rather modern in its clean cut design for a place that looks as though it has fallen right out of the 80's. It read 9:52 am and he thinks he recalls her mentioning something about 10:30 breakfast in the diner "if you're around at all"…or is his desperate mind supplying that to appease the disappointment that she is not yet here? He's not certain but, when a rather stocky fellow with a gruff voice to match his beard nudges past him, muttering something about damn tourists when Robin apologises for being in the way, his accent easily identifiable, he decided it probably best to find a seat of his own.
There aren't many free, this place certainly popular and he thinks of the no-nonsense woman who'd shown him to his room last night, informing him that she would allow his lateness just this once, since it was his first night (he'd asked for an open arrangement, somewhat strange when he'd told himself that he'd leave the day after dropping Henry off), but that the door to the B&B was locked at 9:30pm sharp. He'd nodded, whispered his apologies as she'd led him through the dimly lit corridor and thanked her kindly when she'd handed the key over, hoping that he didn't smell of the cider he'd been consuming until only a half hour before he'd gotten there.
She's nowhere to be seen as of yet, a tall leggy brunette weaving around the floor in shorts barely appropriate and bright red to match the colour of her lips, Regina's had been darker the night before, a dangerous blood red to match the apples that had been arranged in a square shaped bowl that rested upon her coffee table, shining in the dim light of the room they'd sat in and he wondered if he'd ever experience such a night again.
He waited patiently and from a respectful distance as the young woman piled the dirty dishes from the only table available to sit at, a couple having left only a moment ago, and to her credit the girl was certainly quick. She flashed him a brilliantly white smile as she turned and found him waiting, indicating for him to sit with a nod of her head towards the bright red (to match her lips and shorts) bench seat and informing him that she'd be back in a couple of minutes to take his order.
"Take your time," he told her with a smile of his own, pouring himself into the booth and sliding the menu across to him from beside the window, the plastic covering scratching where it met the raised abrasions on the table top.
It was a rather generic menu, delicious sounding and, if the amount of custom was anything to go by, good quality food – it certainly smelt amazing. With his job, with being on the move all of the time, working late hours and having no one at home to cook for, he often frequented places like this, had become well versed in reading the atmosphere, the buzz, in finding it's worth before wasting his minimal time and hard earned cash in a dump. This place though, he could feel something special, something he hadn't before, something wonderfully (and strangely) homely.
The young waitress returned only moments after he'd made his decision, a cream ceramic mug and pot of coffee filling both hands and her smile just as wide as before as she placed the cup down and slid it over to him before pouring a delicious black steaming stream into it. "So, you're new in town huh?" she asked somewhat conversationally and somewhat curiously, her eyes flicking between him and the coffee cup he hadn't asked for yet was certainly grateful for, a little film of hangover clinging to him still.
"I am," he gave back with a smile, pulling his mug even closer to him when she'd finished her pouring and humming at the warmth of the mug as he cupped his hands around it, palms curved as he caught the genuine surprise hidden behind her friendly eyes, it had him frowning a little as he asked "I'm guessing you don't get many visitors then?"
"Nope," she sighed as she laid down a spoon for him, though he drank his coffee black and with no sugar and therefore had no need for the utensil, before she was pulling out her notepad from its place between her hip and the tightly tied straps of her waist apron, the empty pages looking fewer than those she'd already written on, curled over the top of the pad and indented with deeply scribed orders of customers past, a testament to how truly busy this place must be for the thing didn't look to be worn from time nor particularly old, whilst a pencil freshly sharpened peeked out from behind her ear before she was slipping it into her fingers. "I'm quite shocked that you even found the place, the only people living here were either born here or brought by someone who was born here," she told him with a slanted smile of resignation to the lifestyle and he supposed it truly was a small town, he wouldn't have even noticed the exit for the place if Henry hadn't been directing him. "So, what'll it be?"
And so that was the end of the small talk it seemed, it was as he opened his mouth to speak, to give her his order that he heard the tinkling of a bell, an accompanying breeze indicating that someone had entered, two someone's it seemed, the very someone's he'd been hoping to see yet hadn't been expecting for at least another half hour. The waitress turned as he did, her smile widening as she spotted Henry beside his mother, hollering him over and, though he probably shouldn't have taken pride in the fact, he couldn't help but feel good at the way the boy's eyes brightened at the sight of him when the tall brunette moved aside to greet him.
"Hey Rubes," he wrapped his arms around her middle, giving her a friendly squeeze before removing his right arm in order to face Robin fully, "are you staying?" was the very first thing that came out of his mouth, his eyes seemingly hopeful as the waitress, Ruby it seemed, looked down at the boy with a furrowed brow.
"You know each other?" she looked to Robin and then back to Henry again, her arm around his shoulders with a hand gripping lightly at his upper arm, catching the guilt in his gaze before he dropped those eyes to his feet. She gave him a little nudge as she prompted "Henry?"
He sighed deeply, peering around to find his mother at the counter, handing the apples he'd helped her pick that morning over to Ashley and asking her to take them in the back to Granny with a polite smile. He looked back up at Ruby and told her "I went to Boston…"
"Oh Henry," Ruby sighed, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze of comfort in response to the disappointment so clear in his dark eyes. He shrugged against her, giving her the smallest of smiles, all he could manage at the moment before looking back at Robin. It seemed she too knew of the significance of Boston where the Mills family was concerned.
"Robin found me and brought me back," he finished, tilting his head towards his makeshift saviour.
"All the way from Boston?"
Robin smiled at the brunette somewhat bashfully for he could see the tinge of awe in her eyes, wasn't quite one for praise nor misplaced pride and so he answered sheepishly "it was nothing" with a hand rubbing self-consciously at the back of his neck.
"On the contrary," all gazes turned to find Regina making her way closer to the table, her plum patent heels clicking rhythmically against the laminate flooring as she looked only at Robin, placing a hand upon Henry's shoulder as she stopped behind him, Ruby moving aside to give her room as she continued "it was everything." Her hair was down, gently curled to frame her face and falling about her shoulders, her dark eyes bright, much too bright for the strength of the alcohol she'd joined him in drinking last night but then he had no doubt that she'd look stunning in whatever state she found herself. Her lips were painted to match the shoes that he'd found to be sticking somewhat in his mind…or was it the way in which they accentuated her strong slim legs? He found himself unable to ponder the thought when those very lips parted to reveal brilliant white teeth as she asked "mind if we join you?"
He was taken aback for a moment, had been going to ask her and her son to join him anyway but found himself surprised that she'd been the one to ask. He supposed though, with the little that he knew of her, it was completely unsurprising that she would do such a thing. She was nothing if not assertive and perceptive, it was the latter that had him damning the fact that she'd chosen to wear such a wonderfully tight black pencil skirt with a white buttoned blouse and black blazer, shirt buttons straining over her bust for how was he supposed to keep his eyes off of such a beautiful creature?
"How long are you staying for?" Henry asked around a mouthful of pancakes, giving his mother a sheepish smile when she admonished him for talking with his mouth full, cutting her own little stack into bite size pieces and dipping them daintily into the small puddle of syrup she'd drizzled onto her plate. Robin's brain had practically short-circuited when a bead of sweetness had remained on her bottom lip after a bite, glistening in the light as he'd attempted to make sense of the words Henry had spoken, blinking hard twice to pull him out of the trance she'd put him in, intentional or not.
"I uh…" he began dumbly, I really need to get a grip of myself, he thought, pausing to take a mouthful of his coffee, giving himself a little time to wake up, needing the burn of the liquid to pull him back to reality before replying somewhat honestly "I hadn't really thought about it Henry," and though he wasn't sure of the relevance of the subject, he couldn't help but add "but I do have a few weeks' holiday from work…"
Regina's eyebrows raised at that, her posture straightening even more (if that was possible) as she insisted almost instantly "well, then you must stay," and oh, that was why his treacherous mouth had overridden his brain. "Graham has been grousing on at me for weeks that he's been looking for a little help in the Sherriff's office," she began explaining somewhat conversationally, though he could hear the hint there, wanted to latch onto it and allow himself to become tangled within it, "if you ever find yourself at a loose end, feel free to call me and I can set up some sort of trial day?" and to not seem quite so eager, she finished with "this town is only so big you see, a good day's exploration and you've seen it all."
He couldn't help but laugh, tug up some of last night's banter and ask "why Madame Mayor" and something about that title had him feeling naughty, despite the minor so innocently devouring his pancakes beside the brunette that had him so hooked already, "are you trying to poach me?"
She raised her eyebrow at that and he was sure he may have crossed a line with her, was about to apologise for being so brash when she leaned forward the most minute of millimetres and asked him "would you think any less of me if I were to say that I was?" and it was the wink that did it, the way her other eye closed, flickered only slightly with the motion that reminded him that this woman was so much more than the perfect visage she wore every day (or he assumed so with the certain tense way in which other citizens seemed to regard her, polite good mornings if they should pass by the table but nothing more), she was human and he was sure, if she were to outright ask him to remain in town for the foreseeable future in that very moment, he would say yes…and the most frightening thing about it was that it didn't frighten him at all…