Standing on the sidewalk, her fingers tighten around the paper take-out bag and suddenly, she starts to wonder if this was all a mistake. Her stomach flips a little as she thinks of all of the reasons that she should turn the other way and go back to her office—it's not like there's not a mountain of paperwork sitting on her desk or a meeting scheduled in the early afternoon that she hasn't even began to prep for; and the store is busier than she thought it would be on a Tuesday morning and only fifteen minutes after nine. She cranes her neck, looking beyond the orange kayak that hangs in the window, glancing around the store in search of him, spotting at least four customers browsing through the displays before her eyes finally settle on him—and almost instantly, a smile tugs onto her lips.

Robin leans against the counter, chuckling softly as a grin pulls his at the corners of his mouth as he nods, listening intently as a customer looks between two fishing polls. And no matter how many times she tells herself that she should go, no matter how many times she tells herself that he looks busy and that she'll see him later that evening anyway, she just can't bring herself to walk away…

That morning she'd awoken with Henry splayed across her, her fingers tucked into the last page that they'd read of Prince Caspian before finally giving into exhaustion and nodding off. She'd told him that she'd read just one chapter, just so he could find out a little bit of what happened next, but Henry had curled into her side and he'd been hanging on every word that she read. So, it wasn't long before one chapter turned into two, then two chapters turned into three—and even though her eyes were heavy with sleep and wrist ached from the weight of the book, she read on and on and on until Henry had fallen asleep on top of her.

The lights were still on and her neck felt tight, and she knew that she'd only been asleep for a couple of hours. She blinked groggily a couple of times as she focused on the clock sitting on Henry's nightstand, the time slowly registering as she realized that if she got up now, she could get a few decent hours of sleep before having to get up and get herself and Henry ready for the day. She'd looked down at him as a grin stretched onto her lips and she could tell that he was in a deep sleep and likely wouldn't even have noticed if she'd shifted him into a more comfortable position and got out of the bed. And though the thought of stretching out in her comfortable bed and nodding off to sleep was a tempting thought, she just couldn't bring herself to move him away. Just the morning before, she hadn't known if things would ever be the same between them. While she understood that he'd come around eventually, she wasn't at all convinced that he could forgive her—yet almost miraculously, he had. So, she'd cuddled him closer instead of getting up, bending hear head to drop a light kiss over his hair, wanting to make up for the days she lost, the days when he'd barely looked at her and the days she wondered if she'd ever have another moment like this with him again.

A smile had edged onto her lips as she combed her fingers through his hair and her thoughts drifted to Robin—she's not entirely sure what he said to Henry the day before, but she knows that whatever it was, it made a difference—and had it not been for him, she wouldn't have been enjoying this quiet moment with her son had it not been for him.

And then her thoughts began to drift to ways to make it up to him…

So that morning, after she'd dropped Henry off at school, she'd turned toward Granny's diner instead of City Hall. She ordered two coffees and then the tell-tale fried egg and ham bagel sandwich that Granny immediately knew to be Robin's go-to breakfast to-go order. She tried not to react as Granny chuckled, shaking her head a she scribbled the order onto a ticket, and she half-heartedly refuted all of the claims Granny made about her and Robin as she waited for the order. She'd rolled her eyes, feigning a mild annoyance, when Granny asked when they were just going to admit what everyone else already knew and she pretended to be completely unaware of what she meant. When the order was ready, Regina traded it for a ten and sighed just a bit too dramatically as she turned from the counter and Granny reminded her that she was just as good for him as he was for her, and as she walked to the door, shaking her head and laughing a little as she reminded her that they really were just good friends.

Inhaling a sharp breath, she finally pushes herself forward and steps into his shop. The little bell on the door jingles and he looks up—and when his eyes settle on her his smile is instant. He waves to her from across the store, then momentarily turns his attention back to the customer with the fishing poll, tapping decisively on one as the man thanks him as he directs him to the check out. And a moment later, he turns his attention back to her, smiling again and practically jogging toward her as he crosses the sales floor to where she stands by the door—and her heart flutters gently in her chest.

"Well, well, what do I owe this pleasure?" He chuckles softly and grabs onto a pack of colorful ankle-cut socks. "Assuming you're not here for new running socks…"

"I can't even say that I have old running socks," she says with a little grin. "In fact, I didn't even know there were socks specifically made for running."

Robin's eyebrow arches as he flips over the pack of socks, "Oh, well, you see the way the cotton is weaved…" He stops. "And you weren't actually asking."

"No, but I appreciate the information, nonetheless."

Robin rolls eyes and tosses the socks back to the pile, his cheeks flushing a bit beneath his stubble in a way she can't help but find endearing. It's odd really—he knows her better than anyone else in town and she's spent more time with him over the course of the last few months with him than she has with any other person ever. He's become a constant in her life, her go-to person and someone whose presence she genuinely enjoys—yet, despite the comfort she feels in his presence, there's also an underlying nervousness that she's not quite sure what to make of.

"I just… wanted to thank you," she says with a shrug, holding up the take-out bag and coffee. "I'm not sure what it was that you said to Henry, but… whatever it was, I really appreciate it."

Robin shakes his head, "Don't mention it. It was…"

"Don't say that it was nothing," Regina cuts in with a little laugh. "He and I talked last night and… we're in a better place now. And that wouldn't have happened without you."

"Sure it would have."

"Maybe, but… it wouldn't have been last night." She takes a breath and extends the bag first. "So, I brought you breakfast as a… a token of my appreciation."

"Honestly, you didn't have to, but," he grins as he accepts the coffee. "I am not going to complain about it." She takes a breath as she looks around the shop, then looks back at her with a genuine interest. "So, things are really better, then?"

"Yeah," she says with a little nod. "We had a… good night."

"I'm glad," he tells her in an earnest voice. "I hated seeing the both of you so upset." She smiles in return watching as he peeks into the bag. "Can I interest you in half of a delicious bagel sandwich? I'd love to hear more about whatever it was that happened last night."

"You… really want to hear about it?"

"I really do," he tells with her a sincere nod.

"Okay," she says, her heart fluttering unexpectedly as she realizes this is the first thing that they've done alone together without either of the boys somewhere nearby, and her morning meeting is all but forgotten. "Then I would love to split that sandwich." Her lip catches between her teeth. "I, um, I've never had one."

"You've never had one of Granny's famous breakfast sandwiches?"

"I can't say that I have."

"Oh, Regina," he says, reaching for her hand and giving it a little squeeze. "You are in for a real treat. They're so simple, but so good—and no one makes 'em like Granny."

"I feel like that's a challenge…"

His eyebrow arches. "Are you suggesting you could make this sandwich better?"

"Well, maybe," she says with a shrug. "I mean, it's just…an everything bagel with a fried egg and…"

"Just?" He asks, his eyes widening. "You really have no idea…" It's only then that they both realize he's still holding onto her hand—and rather suddenly, he drops it and clears his throat, then looks back at her. "I think you'll change your mind once you've tried it."

She rolls her eyes as she takes a sip of her coffee and lets out a breath over the lid her heart beats a little faster. She follows him through the store and into a small back office, and she grins a little awkwardly as he holds the door open for her. She watches as he sets the bag and his coffee down on his desk, shuffling around purchasing forms and stacks of files until the desk is cleared—and she can't help but notice the picture of Roland on his desk.

He grins up at he as she reaches for the frame. "That was taken…last winter, I think," he says with a little laugh. "He lost his first tooth and we celebrated with floats."

"He looks so… cute with that missing tooth."

"I thought so too," Robin says, glancing quickly at the frame before stepping around her and pulling out the chair in front of his desk. "I loved his toothless little smile, even though it didn't last very long" he says, motioning for her to sit. "Sometimes I wish I could just freeze time and make his childhood last just a little bit longer."

For a moment, her stomach tightens and she nods as a pang of guilt strikes at her core as she watches him reach into the bag and pull out the sandwich and a couple of napkins, completely unaware of how ironic his words are.

"For you," he murmurs as he splits the thick sandwich in half and wraps it in one of the napkins. "Prepare for to be overwhelmed by cheesy breakfast goodness and…" He stops for a moment, blinking down at the sandwich, suddenly noticing the sprigs of green poking out from between layers of egg and cheese. "What's this?"

"Oh, um, I might have asked Granny to put some arugula on it…" She grimaces a little. "I hope you don't mind."

"Of course you did," he says with a soft chuckle as he sits down across from her. "You're trying to win."

"Really?" she laughs. "And how was I trying to win before there was anything to win?" She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. "I just felt like I should put something healthy in this thing so that I wasn't giving you a heart attack wrapped in wax paper."

"Hardly," he scoffs.

"Oh, come on, Robin. This thing is smothered in cheese and has a greasy fried egg on it and…" Her brow creases as she looks down at her half of the sandwich. "And some sort of mayonnaise-based sauce…"

"Don't knock the sauce," he says with a soft chuckle, his blue eyes sparkling. "How about a little wager…"

"Another bet?"

"The first was a challenge—which you decided on, let me remind you." She rolls eyes in reply, but nonetheless, she smiles and gives him her full attention. "If you don't like this sandwich, I will make you dinner tonight—anything you want, I'll make."

"Oh," she murmurs back as her smile widens. "And suppose I do like it?"

"Then you'll make me dinner tonight."

"You do realize that we're already having dinner together with the boys…" Her eyebrow arches. "So unless one of us chooses chicken fingers or tacos, I don't think they'll appreciate this deal."

"Of course," he says easily as a smile twists onto his. "I can toss a pizza in the oven for them and… the two of us will have whatever the winner decides on."

"Deal," she says decisively as she uncrosses her arms and slides forward on the chair, sitting at the edge as she looks down at the sandwich, taking a quick and determined bite—and as much as she tries not to, she emits a little sigh and looks up at him regretfully as she chews. "This tastes… incredible." A victorious grin stretches onto his lips as he settles back in his chair. "Is this… what is this sauce?"

"I don't know," he says with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've been trying to get Granny to tell me for years." She watches as he bites into his half of the sandwich. "Well, I'm glad that arugula didn't ruin it."

"I still think I could make it better…"

"Do you?"

"Absolutely," she says, taking another bite. "I could absolutely beat this."

"Then you'll have to try to prove it sometime," he replies playfully, rolling his eyes a little as he licks some of the sauce from his finger. "Not that you'll be able to…" She laughs out, but his expression grows serious and leans forward to reach for his coffee. "But this little debate is going to have to be tabled for awhile. I really want to hear about Henry…"

A grin pulls at the corners of her mouth as she thinks of Henry—and her voice warms when she tells him about the previous night. She leaves out the part about her nightmare, not wanting to get off-topic and not wanting to have to explain the inexplicable, so she tells him about Henry's curiosity and the way he quietly asked her for her side of the story. And she tells him how she'd answered as honestly as she could—telling him how she didn't think she was the mother he deserved and telling him how Henry had simply made her promise not to give up on him, confessing that he needed his mom, and how making the promise was the easiest thing she'd ever had to do. Robin's smile pulls tighter as she tells him how Henry had smiled as she took her hand and led her up the stairs, days of untold stories pouring out of him as they crawled into bed. She tells him how he'd curled into her as she reached for the book on, listening to him tell a couple more stories about friends at school—one of the boys in his class got a new puppy and one of the girls had a birthday and while he'd been glad for the cupcake, they weren't as good as the ones that she made—and then finally, he'd let out a little yawn, and she'd opened Prince Caspian and began to read. His smile warms as she tells him how she just couldn't bring herself to stop reading, enjoying the closeness of her son and wanting to make up for lost time, and he understood without her telling him that she wasn't merely talking about those few days of silence.

At four o'clock she's standing outside of the elementary school, and just beyond the double doors, she can see Henry putting on his coat and slipping his arms through his Captain America backpack. From his place in the hallway, he spots her, smiling brightly as he runs down the hall toward the doors, bursting out of them and crashing into her—and she laughs a little as her arm wraps around his shoulders, and in that moment, everything feels so normal.

"How was school?" She asks as she turns him around, breathing out a little sigh of relief when he smiles up at her and tells her that he had a good day. She listens as he tells her about how it was his turn to be captain and pick teams in gym class and how at how at recess he and his friends played a rather intense game of tug-of-war. She squeezes his hand as they walk down main street and he tells her about a math game they played that he actually liked and the explains the new reading challenge each grade will be doing.

"So, can we read an extra chapter tonight?" Henry asks, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Since I have to track my minutes and everything? I really want my class to win this."

"Two chapters?"

"Yeah," he says with a serious nod. "I'll even go to bed early if we can."

"That's not going to bed early," she says, laughing softly as she looks down at him. "If we read an extra chapter, you'll be going to bed past your bedtime… which is the exact opposite of early."

"Oh," he murmurs as he swings their hands back and forth. "Can you think about it, though? I really want to beat the fourth grade class."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," he says with a nod. "There's this kid in the fourth grade class who's such a know-it-all." She laughs as Henry rolls his eyes and huffs a little. "He's always bragging about all the books he reads and he doesn't think that comics count." Henry's nose scrunches as he looks up at her. "He won't the Spelling Bee and the Math Bowl last year. He likes math."

"Why don't comic books count?"

He shrugs as he looks up at her, "Ms. Blanchard says they count."

"Oh, then, I guess that's all that matters…"

"Yeah…" She watches as a smile twists onto his lips. "So, can we read two chapters tonight?"

"Well, we do have a fourth grader to beat."

She laughs a little as Henry grins, obviously pleased with how easy it was to convince her, not realizing that there isn't anything she wouldn't do for him and nothing she wouldn't give him. Only three days ago, she worried that he might never fully forgive her—that he'd recoil and stop talking to her, that he'd grow more and more distant and distrustful, that things could never go back to how they were—and as usual, she'd have only herself to blame. Yet as he held her hand he chatters on about the latest developments in Prince Caspian—some of which she only vaguely remembers, despite having read it only the night before.

They walk into the grocery store and Henry runs ahead of her to get a cart, and she can help but smile at how small he looks standing behind it. He pushes it to her and walks along side her as they wander through the aisles and he continues to tell her about his day and his nose crinkles when reaches for a jar of artichoke hearts and places it in their cart.

"What are we having for dinner, anyway?" He blinks up at her. "That's like the third gross thing that's gone in our cart."

"Oh, well, you and Roland are having pizza," she begins, grinning as his shoulder relax, obviously glad not to be eating something that contains artichokes, olives and butternut squash. "Robin and I are having paella."

"What's that?"

"It's a Spanish thing," she says as they turn toward the meat counter. "It's got a bunch of vegetables in it and sausage and shrimp and rice." She shrugs her shoulders as she reaches for a pack of hot Italian sausage. "I've never actually made it before," she admits with a small and somewhat sheepish grin.

"How do you know what's in it, then?"

"Oh, well, I found a recipe for it in one of my books, I just… have never actually made it."

"But how do you know all of those things will taste good together," he asks, looking skeptically between the olives and the butternut squash. "I mean, if you've never had it before…"

"I guess I don't," she tells him with a wink. "So, who knows, maybe we'll all be eating pizza tonight."

"I'll make sure I save you a slice," Henry murmurs, once more grimacing as he examines the raw sausage. "I think you'll want it."

"I appreciate that," she says with a little laugh as she reaches for a package of shrimp and tosses it into the cart. "And I think that's all."

"Can we rent a movie on the way to Robin's?" Henry asks somewhat abruptly as he looks up at her with wide, hopeful eyes and a grin. "Roland I were thinking that maybe we could all watch a movie as we eat dinner."

"Oh, I don't know…"

"It's been awhile since we all did that," he tells her with a shrug. "We thought it'd be fun."

"Well, I'm sure Robin has movies…"

"Roland and I want something very specific," he tells her as they approach the checkout and Henry's hands dive into the cart to load the groceries onto the conveyer belt. "We talked about it at recess."

Her eyebrow arches as she pulls out her wallet. "Is there a new superhero movie out that I haven't heard about?"

"Um, not exactly…" Henry says as grin stretches across her lips. "It's… kind of a surprise."

"Oh yeah?" He nods and pulls the last of the items from the cart as her fingers comb through the front of her hair. "Alright, so I'll tell you what," she begins as he looks up at her, batting his eyelashes sweetly as if she needs anymore convincing. "Why don't you run next door and rent the movie while I pay for this, then we'll swing by my office to pick up the car and head over to Robin's, okay?"

She hands him a five dollar bill and watches as he runs off, keeping an eye on him until he disappears into the video store next door. She can just barely see him browsing through the aisles in search of his movie and she grins as he pulls it from the shelf, watching as he leans up onto the tips of his toes to pay the cashier—and once more she's overwhelmed with gratitude for her second chance with him and a determination to make the most of it.

When they arrive at Robin's, he and Roland are out back. As soon as she turns off the car, Henry's door flies open and he runs toward Roland, immediately whispering something to him that makes the smaller boy grin from ear to ear as he nods excitedly and clasps his hands together in a way that's all too adorable. She eyes them curiously as she gets out the car, approaching the backyard a bit less enthusiastically, but nonetheless smiling in Robin's direction as their eyes meet.

She feel that same strange nervous flutter at her core as he smiles back at her, hoisting up a basket of newly chopped firewood, as he reaches for the grocery bag as soon as she's near enough.

"I think they're plotting something," she confesses, leaning in a little as her gaze shifts to the boys.

Robin looks over at them, his grin tugging tighter as Henry opens up the bag from the movie rental store and Roland nods emphatically as something he's said. "Oh, they most definitely are…"

"I can't figure it out," she says with a sigh. "I tried to get Henry to tell me on the way over, and he's usually so chatty. He can't hold anything in."

"Roland's likely an easier target anyway…" Robin says looking back at her and chuckling softly as he shakes his head. "He's still young enough to not really understand the point of secrets. He gets too excited and then forgets he's supposed to be keeping a secret."

Robin opens the door and she steps inside, pulling off her gloves and unbuttoning her coat as he sets the firewood down at the side of the hearth then takes the grocery bag into the kitchen and starts to unpack it, grinning as pulls out the packages of shrimp and sausage. By the time she joins him, the bag is unpacked and she notices a pre-made pizza sitting on the counter covered in plastic wrap—pepperoni masked by an overwhelming amount of cheese—and she smiles and thinks the added cheese is likely Roland's handiwork.

"You know," he begins as he picks up a jar of roasted red peppers and examines them. "You don't have to make this alone. I'm very willing to…"

"Nope," she cuts in, shaking her head as she leans against the counter. "A bet is a bet."

"Yeah, but…"

"I insist," she says quickly, pushing herself away from the counter and reaching for the jar of peppers. "The deal was that I would make you dinner and, if anything, I am a woman of my word." She grins up at him. "Even if I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Regina," he begins with a light laugh. "I highly doubt that…"

"No, it's true. I've never made paella. It's definitely out of my culinary wheelhouse."

He rolls his eyes as his arms fold over his chest. "Have you ever prepared a bad meal in your entire life?" He blinks in her direction, "Because if you have, it's never been on a Tuesday night." She laughs out and rolls her eyes in reply. "I'm serious, you have no idea the amount of planning and prepping that I do before it's my turn to host dinner," he tells her. "You set a high bar…"

"You're a great cook…"

"No," he says offering a sheepish grin. "Betty Crocker is a great cook. I am good at following instructions… sometimes." He grins. "I've been very deliberate in what I've allowed you to see." He chuckles softly and motions to the pizza. "That's pre-made crust, jarred sauce, pre-cut pepperoni, and bagged cheese… and thankfully, the crust came with instructions for the rest."

"Well, you pull it off well."

"I'm glad it's taken you this long to discover just how inept I truly am."

"Hardly…"

And then she feels it again, that fluttering in her chest that makes heat rise at the back of her neck as her cheeks flush—and when she lets her eyes meet his, there's a flicker of something in his eyes as he shoves his hands into his pockets and grins, obviously enjoying the banter.

"So," he beings as he turns away from the counter, turning to the cabinet for a bowl. "Did Henry tell you he has a fractions test tomorrow?"

"Somehow, he failed to mention that," Regina says with a sigh. "He told me everything about his day, right down to how he dropped his spoon and had to get another one in the cafeteria to eat his pudding, but somehow, he failed to tell me a math test."

"Ahh, well, it's a good thing you're here," he says, turning away from her and going into the adjoining living room and hold up a plastic bag of colorful blocks that look a little bit like legos. "Mary Margaret Blanchard let me take some of these blocks home. So, if you don't mind having a tiny helper in the kitchen, I'd love to spend some time reviewing with him."

"I would love that," she says as a smile tugs onto her lips, "Both the help for Henry and the tiny helper."

And twenty minutes later, Robin and Henry are stretched out on the living room floor, moving around colorful blocks as they work through adding and subtracting fractions. She grins as she watches Henry kick his feet back and forth and as Robin tussles his hair when he works through a particularly difficult problem—and then she turns her attention back to Roland, sitting on the countertop beside her, grimacing down at the partially-frozen shrimp floating in a bowl of water beside him.

"What are you making again?"

"Paella," she tells him.

"Somehow, I don't think its real pie."

Regina laughs out and shakes her head. "And you're right about that. It's… a rice dish."

"With fish…"

"And sausage and vegetables."

Roland crinkles his nose as he looks up at her. "That's a lot of things I don't like."

"Well, that's why you and Henry are having a very cheesy pizza," she tells him with a grin. "But don't think I won't try to sneak some vegetables on to it." She laughs as he looks up at her with wide and slightly horrified eyes. "I am determined to find one vegetable you like."

"That probably won't happen."

"We'll see about that," Regina laughs. "Can you hand me that spoon?"

Roland nods and hands it to her, brandishing it like it's a sword, as she pours the blended peppers and tomatoes into the saucepan. From the corner of her eye she can see him watching her carefully, and she grins as she nods toward a bowl of rice. "Hand me that, too?"

"Okay," Roland says easily, grunting a little as he lifts the glass bowl. "This one's heavy."

"Oh…"

"But it's okay," he tells her in a reassuring voice. "I can handle it."

"I bet you can," she grins, taking it from him and adding it to the tomato and pepper sauce before reducing the head on the stove to low. "Can you mix it for me while I get the…" She stops, suddenly feeling a little lost in a kitchen that's not hers. "Do you know where your dad keeps the spices… salt and things like that?"

"The cabinet next to the refrigerator," Roland says, barely looking up as he sloshes the spoon through the rice and sauce, breathing in the smell of it and smiling. "That's also where the noodles are."

Regina nods and laughs at the added bit of information and turns toward the cabinet, and almost immediately feels her heart jump when she notices a crayon-drawn picture taped to the refrigerator. The picture is glued to a red heart cut out of construction paper with the words 'My Family' written across the top. She sucks in a short breath as she looks at the drawing of the four of them—Roland and Henry in their Halloween costumes and Robin and herself beside them… holding hands.

"We had to draw a favorite family memory," Roland explains.

"Oh," she murmurs turning back. "That was a fun night."

"Yeah," Roland agrees with a nod as his smile fades. "And I don't remember my mom, so…"

"Well, you and your dad are a family."

"I know," he says with a little sigh. "But it's… it's just more fun with you and Henry, too." His cheeks flush a little as he looks away from her. "Sometimes, I just like to pretend that …that Henry's my big brother and you're… my… my mom." His voice trails off shyly and his smile fades entirely. "I know it's not real, but I just… sometimes I like to pretend."

She lets out a shaky breath as she looks past him for a moment, watching as Henry and Robin high five and laugh and again, she feels that soft fluttering in her heart as she looks back at Roland. "It's not pretend," she says, taking a step in and squeezing his knees. "Families come in… all different shapes and sizes. There's not one right or wrong way to make a family." She shrugs as a smile tugs onto her lips. "Families can be… whatever you want them to be and made up of whomever you choose to be in them." Once more she glances past him, watching as Robin points to one of the blocks and Henry drags it into one of the piles. "And the four of us are definitely a family."

"You think of me and my daddy as family?"

"Yeah," she says with a nod. "I do."

Roland just smiles as he turns his attention back to stirring the rice and once more Regina lets out a shaky breath, feeling something indescribable stirring within her—a sort of warmth mixed with guilt and something else she can't quite pinpoint—a she reaches for the salt and paprika. Roland watches as she shakes in a little bit of salt and paprika, and she grins as she reaches into the other bowl on the opposite side of the stove, where a mix of bell peppers, olives, mushrooms and artichokes sit. She plucks out an orange pepper and hands the slice to Roland. "Try this."

"I don't know…"

"Just try it," she insists, grinning as he tentatively takes it from her. "I think you'll like it. It's sweet." He blinks skeptically at her as he takes a small bite off the tip of the pepper and she grins as she pours some olive oil into a skillet, watching as a small, barely-there smile tugs onto Roland lips and he takes another bite. "So?"

"It is sweet."

"I told you…"

"I didn't think vegetables could taste sweet," he as he tosses the rest of the pepper into his mouth. "That…was not terrible." She laughs, rolling her eyes as he turns up the heat. "I mean… for a vegetable."

"You know, I have another orange pepper. It's already cut up and it's not too late to add it to the pizza." Roland blinks, eyeing her skeptically as he swallows his pepper. "Trust me," she murmurs, leaning in and gently grabbing his chin. "You'll like it."

A little grin forms on his lips as he nods. "Okay…"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah…" He nods. "It's not like it's a green vegetable. Those ones are the worst."

She laughs out when she notices he's eyeing a bag of frozen peas on the countertop, and she lifts him off the counter and points him in the direction of the peppers as she drops the cut up sausage and shrimp into the skillet and turns up the heat. She keeps an eye on him, watching as he takes the plate and climbs up onto the stool near the sink, and pulls back the plastic covering the pizza and arranges the cut up peppers into a smiley face. She tosses the shrimp and sausage and adds them into the saucepan, then dumps in the rest of cut up vegetables, giving them a quick stir before helping Roland put the pizza in to oven and grinning when she turns on the oven light so he can watch it bake.

"So, you have a birthday coming up, I hear…"

"Oh, yeah," Roland murmurs, keeping a watchful eye on the pizza in the oven. "In twelve days." He looks back at her quickly. "That's a little bit less than two weeks."

"Do you have… plans for it?" She asks, suddenly realizing that Robin hasn't brought up his son's birthday and then remembering with a small pang of guilt that Roland's birthday also marks the anniversary of Marian's death—and in the back of her head, she wonders if that's the real story or if it was one that she planted. "I mean…"

"Daddy and I usually do something fun," Roland explains. "Last year, we played mini-gold and got hot dogs and…" He grins. "And I got a bike." He shrugs a little as his grin fades away. "I'm always a little sad on my birthday," he tells her. "That's the day my mom died, too."

"Yeah," she murmurs, absently reaching out and stroking her fingers through his messy hair. "That must be hard."

"Yeah," Roland nods. "Some days…" He blinks. "But it's hard missing someone I never even got to know." He looks back at the pizza. "I don't like to talk about it."

"Okay," she says in a tentative voice. "Then I won't make you…"

"Henry said you took him to Coney Island for his birthday…"

"Yeah, it was a fun day," she says as a little smile tugs onto her lips. "It was the first birthday he and I spent together."

"That sounds really fun," he sighs. "I just wish, just once, that…" His voice trails off and his cheeks flush a little as he looks back at her, then quickly looks away once more focusing entirely on the pizza and she turns back to folding the meat and vegetables into the sauce. She looks back at him every few minutes, watching as he watches the pizza and watching his blank expression through the reflection on the oven window…

And then a small smile tugs onto her lips as an idea creeps into her head.

They have dinner—and both the pizza and paella are a hit. It doesn't escape from her notice that the boys arrange the table in a way that Robin and Regina are sitting side-by-side and she can't help but notice how quickly they inhale their pizza, leaving their respective parents alone in the dining room. She laughs a little and her cheeks flush as Henry dims the lights—murmuring something about learning the importance of conserving electricity in science class—leaving them to finish the meal by themselves. And when they're finished and everything's cleaned up and put away, they join the boys in the living room to find a fire burning in the lights off while a fire crackles at the hearth.

Regina grimaces as lets out a short breath, as she looks over to find the boys sprawled out on the larger couch, leaving only the love-seat for their parents—and when the Little Mermaid starts to play, it becomes all too obvious that their sons are trying to set them up in a way that only a six and eight year old could.

"I'm sorry," she murmurs. "I think… this is Henry's doing."

Robin just grins and shrugs his shoulders, "Don't worry about it." He grins as he pulls a knit afghan from the back of the couch and fans it out over their laps. "I love the little crab in this."

"I… don't think I've ever seen it."

"Oh, it's a classic!"

She laughs a little at the sincerity in his voice and settles back, both a little comforted and unnerved by his ease, as the movie starts to play—and she has to admit, the warmth of the fire and the blanket is nice—and just as she finds herself relaxing, watching Ariel's sisters perform a musical number, Robin reaches down at the side of the love seat, pulling back little lever as the bottom of the couch shoots up to elevate their feet.

And once more, she feels that nervous fluttering at her core.

By the time Ursula curses Ariel, taking her voice for her own, Regina's eyes are heavy and she struggles to keep them open. The movies music flutters in and out, and she's only barely aware that her head has fallen onto Robin's shoulder as Kiss the Girl plays on the screen, and Roland and Henry look back at their parents with a disappointed sigh. Robin shifts and she murmurs something inaudible as she pulls the blanket around herself and his arm slowly folds around her.

It's just past eight-thirty when the movies over and Prince Eric and Ariel are waving their goodbyes, Regina is completely asleep and the boys frown in disappointment as Robin carefully leans over to flick on the light. Henry sits up, blinking nervously between them—both disappointment and concern evident.

"She's really out…" Robin murmurs to him.

"Should we wake her?"

"Oh, I think… I think it'd be okay if we just let her sleep," Robin says, knowing she didn't get much sleep the night before—and using that as an excuse not to wake her up and send her home where she could get a good night's sleep in her own bed, not wanting to admit he simply enjoyed having her this close. "You guys can stay the night."

A wide grin stretches across Roland's lips, but Henry shifts forward, peering down at Regina as his brow furrows in concern. "But I… don't have pajamas."

"You can borrow one of my t-shirts," Robin says, "Top drawer in the long dresser in my room. You can go grab one, and sleep in Roland's room."

"But…" Henry sits up, once more looking between Roland and Robin. "But sometimes… she… she has nightmares." Henry blinks as his lip catches between his teeth and his brow creases. "What if she has a nightmare? What if she wakes up and… and is in a strange place and she's scared?"

Slowly, Robin looks from Henry to Regina, smiling gently as he turns back to him and offering him a smile that's both sincere and reassuring. "I promise you, Henry, I'll take care of her."

"Okay, but…" He watches as Henry considers for a moment, fumbling nervously with his hands. "She doesn't like to talk about the dreams," he begins in a tentative voice. "But she likes to just… talk… about other stuff. And she likes warm milk and honey. It makes her feel better. But you can't make it too hot, just… just warm."

"I think I can manage that," Robin tells him in a serious voice. "Is there anything else I should know?"

He grins as Henry considers, finding the boy's concern for his mother sweetly endearing. "Sometimes she drools in her sleep, but we don't talk about that either."

Robin stifles his urge to laugh, and instead nods seriously in Henry's direction. "Warm milk and honey, but no mention of nightmares and drool. Got it."

"Oh, and sometimes… sometimes she wake up really early, but she doesn't like to get up. She just lays there and thinks about stuff. She doesn't like to talk about that either."

"Okay…"

"And…" Henry's voice halts and a little smile forms on his lips. "Sometimes she just… just kind of talks in her sleep," he adds. "It never makes any sense and it doesn't happen all of the time. Sometimes it's more sounds than words, and she usually doesn't remember that in the morning."

"Alright…"

"And she's a really light sleeper. Noises and things wake her up really easily," he confides. "And sometimes, she has trouble going back to sleep."

"Should I do anything if that happens?"

Henry considers it for a moment, and then shakes his head. "No, not unless she wakes up because of a nightmare."

"Okay," Robin says with a little nod. "Anything else I need to know?"

Henry thinks for a moment, his brow furrowing—then a small grin forms on his lips. "No, that's all."

"You're sure?" Henry gives him a decisive nod and he watches as the boy's shoulders relax as a grin pulls at Robin's lips when he glances down at Regina sleeping against him. "Okay, why don't you go grab that shirt and wash up, and you," he says, as his eyes shift to Roland. "Change into your pajamas and grab a few extra pillows and blankets, okay?" Roland nods, quickly running off in the direction of his bedroom, but Henry lingers and Robin watches as he watches his mother, still unsure that leaving her is the best opinion—and once more, a grin pulls onto Robin's lips. "Henry," he says, waiting for the boy's eye to shift to him. "I promise you, she's safe here."

"You really promise?"

"I really promise," Robin says with a grin. "I like her way too much to let anything happen to her or to let her feel scared or…" He sighs, realizing he's saying more than necessary. "She'll be fine."

Henry nods and finally slides of the couch, grinning between them. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course you can."

"I think… I think she likes you, too." He grins. "Actually, I know she does."

Robin can't help the smile that stretches across his lips as Henry runs off, grabbing a t-shirt from his room and then joins Roland in his bedroom. He waits for the boys' chatter to fade away and waits for the light to turn off, before turning off the lamp beside the couch as he pulls the blanket up around them, and settles in, closing his eyes and slowly drifting off to sleep—smiling because she's there with him and smiling because she likes him, too.

When her eyes slowly flutter open, the first thing she's aware of his warmth.

It's morning, but it's still dark outside and she's still lying against him, her cheeks flushing as she realizes she spent the night this way. But her embarrassment for having fallen asleep on him is fleeting—his arm is wrapped around her shoulders and his head rests atop hers and he smells of evergreen and soap—a smile tugs onto her lips at the realization that she actually slept through the night. Tilting her head up, she looks at the clock on the wall, squinting her eyes until she can read the time, smiling when she realizes that it's just a little past four-thirty, and there's time to cuddle back in and enjoy this feeling while it lasts. So, she presses closer to him, letting her eyes fall shut as she breathes him in, and slowly drifting back to sleep.

To her, it feels like only a few minutes have passed, but when her eyes open, the sun is glowing behind the heavy drapes and Robin is still asleep. She can see him more clearly know, grinning as she picks up her head, resting her chin on his chest as she looks up at him, watching as he sleeps with his arm still wrapped around her shoulder. She blinks a couple of times, looking at the clock. It's nearly seven and regretfully, she pulls away from him, shivering a little as he blanket falls away from her and grinning when he doesn't wake up. Slowly, she stretches out her arms, yawning as she looks around and tucks her hair behind her ears, noticing the case to the Little Mermaid DVD sitting on the coffee table—and smiling, wondering if they realize how well their little plan worked out.

Padding down the hall, she pokes her head into Roland's bedroom, grinning as her eyes fall onto the boys, still asleep at opposite ends of Roland's bed. They look so sweet, contently curled up beneath the heavy blankets. There's a still-open comic book resting on Henry's chest and her grin widens at the realization that they probably fell asleep reading about new adventure the Avengers had set out on—and her heart flutters gently in her chest as she pulls the door closed, wanting to let them sleep just a little longer.

Robin is still asleep when goes back to the living room and she chuckles softly at him, clutching onto the blanket and holding it in the same way he'd been holding her just a couple of minutes before—and a sad smile stretches onto her lips as finds herself wondering what she's supposed to do about the way she feels. She can't tell him—not like this, not with the curse between them—and logically, she knows some distance between them would be best for the both of them. Yet she can't bring herself to do that because, in spite of everything, she's not ready to lose whatever it is that they have between them.

With a sigh, she pushes away those thoughts—something she's become quite skilled at doing— and goes into the kitchen, suddenly remembering the sandwich from the morning before and laughing quietly to herself as she opens the refrigerator to scan the contents. Reaching for an egg, her smile pulls tighter and she reaches for the frying pan from is place in the dish rack.

Twenty minutes later, she plates the sandwich and carries it into the living room, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table as she her hand pushes against Robin's knee, laughing a little as he flinches and grunts as his eyes slowly open.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," he murmurs groggily as a slow smile pulls onto his lips. "Wh-what time is it?"

"A little after seven," she tells him, as she reaches for the plate and extends it to him. "And it's also time for breakfast."

He blinks a couple of times as he stares at the bagel sandwich sitting on the plate—and she watches as realization settles in his eyes. Perking up, he takes the plate, narrowing his eyes in her direction as she offers him a smug smile—determined to win the bet they'd made the morning before.

"You made this…"

"I did," she nods. "And while my choices were limited to what's in your refrigerator, I think I did a pretty good job."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," he says with a nod as he examines the sandwich. "But I just don't think anything can top the sandwich from Granny's." Her eyebrow arches as he picks up the sandwich and takes a bite—and before he can even say anything she smiles victoriously as his eyes sink closed and he breathes out in satisfaction. "Oh my god…"

"Yeah?"

"Regina, this is…" He licks a little bit of the sauce from his lips, slowly turning his eyes up to meet her. "I… I owe you an apology. I completely underestimated you. This is… incredible."

"I know," she says as a tight smile forms on her lips. "I told you."

"But…how?" He asks, as he takes another, bigger bite, looking up at her as he does. "I had this in my refrigerator?"

She nods. "Canadian bacon instead of ham; an everything bagel toasted in the oven, not a toaster; and the egg is sunny side up instead of fried." She grins. "And a little bit of fresh spinach from your garden sautéed in the grease from the Canadian bacon."

He blinks, "And the sauce? The sauce is… so much tangier and definitely spicier. There's no way this came out of my refrigerator."

"Oh, that," she begins as a sly smile stretches across her lips. "That is a secret I will never tell."

He starts to protest, but she laughs out and he takes another bite of the sandwich. "Oh my god I could… it's like you're magic. I could kiss you right now because this is…" His voice stops, suddenly aware of his words as her smile changes—not necessarily fading—and his cheeks flush a deep red. "I just mean… this sandwich is… just…"

"That good," she supplies for him, offering a little nod of understanding. "I know," she murmurs, thinking of what it would be like to actually kiss him—to feel his hands slide into her hair as he drew her in, to feel his warm lips against her, and to feel what it would be like to just give in—even if for a just a moment.