"Oh why or why didn't I bring a pack of cigarettes with me?" Regina mused.
"I know that this is some sort of joke from your world," Robin said. They were laying side by side again, her hand propping up her head to look up at him.
She stretched lazily, "It's a compliment."
"Thank you." And he laughed with her. Then was sober.
"You aren't going to feel guilty about this, are you?" Regina asked.
"Probably," he replied after a moment, "I'm officially a scoundrel!"
"I don't think you are."
Robin touched her face, and kissed her forehead.
"It's not like you 'took my innocence.'"
He kissed her forehead again.
Fine. That was for him to work out.
What she wouldn't give to find out what his thoughts were between all their conversations!
Some levity?
"Come on, no hussies?"
"Hussies? What kind a man do you think I am?"
"A man."
He shook his head, and just kissed her.
She took his hand, "So then that's it then. Everything…"
"Well, there is one last thing that I haven't forgotten, no matter how many times you think I have."
"And what's that?" she gave him her best feline grin.
Robin held out his wrist. "This." The tattoo. "What was the pixie dust supposed to find, Regina?"
Time for the truth?
"I think you know," she told him.
"Perhaps."
He was waiting.
Regina sighed, eyes averted. "The pixie dust led me to a man with this tattoo," she touched it. "A man who would be my fresh start … happy ending. My true love after Daniel."
"And," his voice broke a little now, "was the pixie dust right?"
Tears leaked out of her eyes too, "Yes." She looked up at him, "I love you."
He embraced her and kissed her again, then touched his forehead to hers, "I love you too, Regina. I always will."
Later, she watched him dress, laying in the morning light that was streaking through the window.
No words now.
After slipping on his shirt, he moved back to the bed. She sat up. Robin cupped her head between his hands and kissed her for quite a while. Then, "See you in the parlor?"
She nodded.
Her voice wasn't working.
Robin began to leave, his hand reaching out to the dresser where his ring and chain lay. He grabbed it. Then halted.
Regina frowned. What was he doing now?
He pivoted, then walked back to the bed, took her hand and placed the ring in her palm, closing her fingers over it.
"No," she protested, "No! It's yours…..Roland's…"
He hushed her, "It's yours, beloved."
And he left her alone.
Roland was in the sitting room when Regina emerged, in her Storybrooke clothes again. She hugged him.
Her little one.
For such a short time.
She kissed his forehead.
"Be good for your Daddy," she told him.
He nodded solemnly, mercifully silent.
Robin was there too. They stepped in to the hall.
"I'll go by myself now," she said to the window, "to the library."
"Will you look at me?"
She shook her head.
"Regina….."
"I won't say goodbye to you, Robin." And yes, the tears again!
But he was crying too, "Then don't," he held her to him. "Thank you."
Yes. Thank you.
That was it. That was always it.
Her happy ending was to heal, not to live happily ever after with her lover, her beloved.
She knew that she would only have the darkness from here on.
But that would have to be enough.
Regina stepped back. "I'll never forget you."
He nodded.
As she left him, she put her hand into her pocket, grasping the ring and chain.
She held tightly to them minutes later as she cast the healing spell over Storybrooke's curse and was transported home.