This took a while and I'm really sorry. Anyhoot, it's here now, so there we go. I hope you enjoy.

This has become a four-parter instead of two-I know, sad (we can blame Miles). Though I have gotten 3 down and i have only one left to write. So yeah. My love and thanks to the one and only Miles for all her help and her encouragements and her flailing and for her yelling at me when I ask her to. She's one absolutely amazing beta and friend and I love her very much. Thanks tramp.

Chapter Two

He is charming and a gentleman and kind and chivalrous and simply wonderful; everything she wants in a man, everything she could ever want. He is, also, unfortunately, so very out of her reach. So far out even though a touch of his hands has her pulse racing, has butterflies fluttering in her stomach, and her heart hammering in her chest.

Who is she kidding?

Even when he only looks at her, she feels faint and feels like a teenager with a crush and rage of hormones all over again.

But he's out of her reach.

He's off limits, everything that she shouldn't want or feel desire for. It's wrong, it's all wrong, she cannot be having thoughts of him like this, he can't be occupying her thoughts every morning when she wakes, and still be the one that fills in before she goes to bed. She should be able to control herself better than this.

She has a son for god's sake. She cannot be acting like a schoolgirl.

But he is, with him, she is, and she cannot control herself, she keeps coming back even if she knows that it's wrong, knows that what she feels (it's not love, it can't be, but she's been here before—with Daniel—and she knows what it feels, to love someone, to be consumed with feelings, to feel it deep in her soul, and this is it, it had felt like this but no it can't be, it's not the same, it can't be), what she feels is simply wrong.

And since she cannot s0rt out what she feels for him (she knows it's something deep and something not quite up the par with things she should feel), she chooses to stay away, chooses to ask him to forget about her and pick his future over this—it's not serious, it's something that will fade out in time, something he'll forget and she'll move on from, it has to be.

Only, it's not. And even when she asks him to stay away (he does), she still wants to be near him.

She has all the facts, she's his teacher and he her student, and she has feelings for him and he for her; yet there is only one thing she wants.

All she wants is to be with him.

…

"If you want to be with him, then you should be." Is what Mary Margaret tells her when Regina finally musters up the courage to talk to someone about it.

Of course, the irony is not lost on her that she tells her step-sister about it, of all people, when she had sworn when she had been younger that she would never trust her nosy little Disney Princess of a step sister after Mary Margaret had blabbed to Cora that she'd caught Regina kissing Daniel. Regina knows now how much her mother could be a piped piper and master manipulator when she wants to, but teenager Regina had been very angry then.

Regina rolls her eyes and huffs right then, exhaling through her mouth and clenching her fists. "Did you even listen?" she asks with exasperation.

"I heard you." Mary Margaret raises an eyebrow, "Is he a minor?" she asks, and Regina shakes her head, frowning. "Then everything else are just minimal details."

Regina gasps and her eyes widen with disbelief. "Details? I don't think you're grasping everything here correctly. Mary Margaret, Robin is my student. I could go to jail! What of my son then? And of his? I can't just risk everything, my job, my son, his education and his son, just for…" She pauses, wanting to say that it's for lust, but she knows it's more than that, it's more than just wanting him, more than just attraction, more than just a need for a night. She wants more with him, and he means more to her.

"You can't even say that it's nothing but just lust," Mary Margaret says with a sigh, taking her hand in hers and looking her in the eye. "Regina, I know you. You're the most resilient, strongest person I know. You also have the biggest heart I know, you feel things deeply, feel everything all at once, and I know that when you get like this, when you get invested and fall, I know you feel it with your whole soul." Mary Margaret gives a small, soft smile. "Don't let anything hold you back."

Regina feels tears prickle her eyes, and all she wants is to follow, wants to take the chance, wants to follow her heart and let it lead her to him, but all she does for now is sigh.

…

The thing is, hearts are traitorous organs and she's learned a long time that maybe, it isn't always the best thing to listen to it. Loving someone wholly, fully can only lead to heartbreak, and she's had enough of it in her lifetime to even think of subjecting herself through it again.

But the thing is that fate is also quite a bitch.

And that is why, when she walks into the library, fully expecting it to be empty because of the late hour (she had wanted to go and check her test papers without her son distracting her like he does at home) of course, she actually spots the last person she wants to see, buried deep in a book.

This cannot have just been a coincidence because the out of all the places, he is there, exactly where she prefers to be when she's working, in the exact same table, sitting on her chair. His back is to her and so she backs away, slowly, sure that she's not being heard, hoping at the very least that she isn't.

"You're not very good at sneaking," he half whispers, and she gapes, surprised that he knows there is someone, and even better—that it's her. He closes the book in front of him and turns to her, eyebrow raised. "I heard the clicking of your heels. They aren't the quietest shoes."

"I—" she stammers, unsure about what to say, there really isn't anything to say, is there? And if there are words, she doesn't want to say them, not right now.

"You've been avoiding me," he accuses, and she thinks that this is not the right way for him to speak to her, but does it really even matter, when she's here, and he's there a few steps away from her looking like a model in his brown pants and green shirt, smelling like forest, smelling like home.

And what can she say to that? He's right, she is.

"For good reason," she snipes at him, bringing up her defense and gathering it around her like a cloak. She cannot let herself be weak, not about this, not about love…no…not love…not exactly…

He raises an eyebrow, eyes hardening and lips thinning. "You don't give in an inch, don't you, Regina?" he asks with a hint of contempt and frustration, and she understands him, where he's coming from, but she doesn't like it.

She huffs and scoffs, and heaves her bag over her shoulder, before wrapping her arms around her waist. She hates that she feels small now, hates that she feels this way, because she never has, and especially not with him because he lets her be herself, lets her just be Regina. "It's not right, don't you understand that?" she asks, and then she breathes in deeply, squares her shoulders. "I can't risk everything just for a dalliance."

She literally sees something akin to anger flash across his eyes, and then before she can even register anything, he's moving, standing from his chair and walking over to her with purposeful strides. He grabs her by her upper arm, firm but not enough to hurt. She looks at him with wild eyes, unsure where this is about to lead, but she lets him drag her knowing he is not capable of hurting her physically. Everything about them might hurt right now, but he can never lay his hands on her to hurt her—of that she is sure.

She is surprised when he stops at a semi-secluded aisle (they could make out here and n0 one would see unless they actually peer in—not the best thought to have though), and pushes her against the shelves, leaning in dangerously close to her face so their lips are level. His breath is ragged, and so is hers, her heart pounding in her chest with every breath that leaves her lungs. His hand inches up to her shoulder and pushes against the straps of her bag until it falls to the floor next to them with a thud, and then he wraps both his hands around her waist.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Regina," he whispers harshly, hot breath heating her already overheated skin, but there is a softness, a gentleness in his tone which has always been present when she regards him. "But you need to open your heart to it."

She looks deep into his eyes, heart quickening even more at their proximity—and then she cannot stand it anymore, she grabs his shirt and presses her lips to his. And then they're kissing—she's kissing him and he's kissing her hot and hard, taking her breath away and stealing her sanity. She shoves her hand under his shirt and touches his hard stomach, wondering and reveling in its hard planes as he changes the angle of their kiss. His mouth pushes in her mouth, eliciting a moan from deep within her throat, and god, she'd love to hike up her leg around his waist and rock her hips against his, but she tries to remember that they're still in the library, a very public place, and no matter how much she wants him, it's not a good idea.

His hands squeeze against her hips, and she moves an inch closer until even she's not sure where he starts and where she ends, but it doesn't matter, not now when they are one breath, one heart, one soul. This…this feels like home, and she's never believed it possible to find the other part of your soul, to find that one person whose kisses make you feel like flying, but she has, she's found it in him.

"Regina," he whispers against her skin as he rests his forehead against hers, "I…" he breathes out, making hers hitch because she knows what's coming, she feels it too, but she can't.

"I know," she whispers, forcing her tears not to fall, forcing her heart not to break. He pulls a bit away so their eyes meet, and he opens his mouth to say something but she reaches up and places her index finger on his lips. "Don't say it, please don't."

It will only hurt more—she thinks, but she doesn't say that.

He pulls away then completely, hands leaving her body, and then he's backing away, shaking his head at her. He doesn't say anything, only looks down and turns back, walking away from her.

And never again looking back.

…

Regina looks back over her shoulder in panic before she turns back to her blonde haired friend with a shushing glare. The last thing she needs is for someone to overhear their conversation because they'd been careless. She sighs mentally when she realizes that the door is closed and whatever they have (or had, because she's done with this conversation) been talking about would only come out as muffled sounds outside.

She's always known it is a bad idea to talk about anything personal in this University, even if the woman she's talking about is supposed to be the guidance counselor or her best friend since grade school.

It's never safe.

"Who told you?" Regina hisses at her friend, Isabella Tinkerson, fists clenching. She sits just across the blonde woman in Tink's (Regina has called her friend that since because of how much Isabella reminded Regina of Tinkerbelle, and it had stuck).

Tink smirks and her blue eyes sparkle, and Regina could almost taste the answer floating in the air.

"Mary Margaret," Regina practically spits, her teeth grinding because she had known it had been a bad idea. And it is. "I knew she couldn't keep a secret."

Well, at least she hadn't told Cora.

"Don't be mad at her," Tink says with a raised eyebrow, and Regina only scoffs and crosses her arms across her chest. "You would have told me anyway." And she's right, but still. "So? Tell me more. All Mary Margaret told me was that you fancy someone and he's forbidden. So, is he hot?"

Regina balks at this, because out of all the questions she's expected, it's not this, but still, it's what is asked, and this is Isabella, she shouldn't even be surprised.

"What?" Regina sputters, and Tink responds with a pointed raising of an eyebrow. "Yes, he is."

Regina blushes at the words that leave her mouth, and she shouldn't, she shouldn't feel like a teenager with a crush, she's not, she's a grown ass woman with a respectable job, and she should not be acting like a girl.

"And does he like you, too?" Tink asks, and Regina nods, slowly, unsure, but she thinks of her encounters with Robin, how he's asked for a second chance, basically….the way he's kissed the life out of her, made her knees go weak. "By that look on your face, I can say that it is a yes."

Regina glares, and then rolls her eyes. "Yes, if you must know you pesky moth, he says he feels something for me, too," she admits, and saying it makes her heart flutter, her stomach to flip excitedly.

He likes her.

He definitely does, and it's the first time that Regina has admitted it to anyone.

She shouldn't feel like she's just won the lottery, but good god, she feels like she just had.

"So, if you like him and he likes you, what's the hang up?" Tink asks with a frown. "Is he married?"

"He was," she answers with a sigh. That isn't even the problem… "His wife is dead."

"Okay?" Tink drawls with a quirked eyebrow, and Regina wants to hurl. "So…what's the problem? Is he in some kind of a mafia? Or…." She pauses and her eyes widen. "Christ, he's in prison isn't he?"

Regina stops, chokes on air and her eyebrows furrow. "What?" she screeches, the surprise coloring her voice in so many different hues. "No, he's not in prison!" She then takes a pause and fidgets because this part has always been the hardest to admit, and not for the first time had she found herself wishing that she and Robin had met in a different circumstance. "He's…He's actually my student."

Tink gapes at her, and it's so comical, Regina would have laughed if her heart hadn't just sunk down to her feet. "Oh," is all that Tink says.

Regina tries to fight back the tears that press against her eyes. "Yes, oh," she agrees with a heavy heart. Oh was putting it mildly.

"Well, who is it?"

"Robin Locksley," Regina answers with heaviness. Saying his name doesn't help her predicament here. She watches as Tink's face morphs from confusion to recognition and Regina wonders.

"Ah, the man with the lion tattoo?" Tink says, making Regina raise an eyebrow in question (she wonders how Tink even knows of that, when she had known of that only a few weeks ago), but her friend just shrugs. "What? There isn't much that I don't know." And that is actually the truth. Tink sighs, and looks Regina in the eye. "You need love, Regina. And he's there, offering it to you. I know it's difficult now, everything seems to be against you and him, but…I truly believe that love always finds a way. Maybe, he's your happy ending…you'll never find out if you never try."

"I don't think happy endings are for me, anymore," Regina whispers quietly, fully believing her words, although wishing it isn't the case.

"Oh, Regina, come on," Tink says with just a hint of exasperation, "So you'll have to sacrifice some to get your happy ending, everyone does, after all this isn't a fairytale and you're not a damsel in distress. And if you lose some, but be happy in the end with the man you love and your son…well, would that be such a terrible fate?"

"Yes," Regina exclaims, tired of all this over thinking. There is so much to lose and she cannot afford them, not even for Robin, not even for her own happiness. She already has Henry, and he makes her happy, that should be enough. "What if risking it would make me lose my son? He's all I have, without him…I would just have floated away, he saved me and I cannot lose him…not for Robin or anyone."

Tink exhales, defeated, before shaking her head. "Your heart doesn't lie, Regina," is all she says, before the conversation falls away.

…

"Your heart doesn't lie."

Tink's words have become a mantra that keeps playing. Regina hears it in her head over and over again. And she wants to believe it, wants to believe it so badly, but she's scared, terrified. She has a lot to gain, she knows that, but she's a lot to lose, too, and it's just so risky, so frightening.

She can't afford to lose it all again just as she had before when she'd lost Daniel. She'd been honest with Tink that Henry had saved her, in so many ways, her son had, and if something she would do, something that she acts upon would backfire and make her lose him…she won't even know what to do with herself.

Sighing at the thoughts that plague her mind, she looks down at the grade sheet in front of her and tries to focus. It's not incredibly easy, there is too much she has in her mind, and so she pushes it away to fish for her phone. She dials Mary Margaret's, where her son is staying while she finishes work, so she can talk to him before she gets home. It's late, and she should have been home hours ago, but there had been a faculty meeting and she has midterms to grade. Mary Margaret's phone rings, but no one picks up.

She stops when she hears the door creak and she looks up from her phone to see who it is. Her heart stops when she sees who it is, her hands drop her phone and it makes a cluttering sound against the wood. She could hear blood rushing through her veins, loud in her ear, and she could feel her throat constrict.

"Robin," she breathes out as she stares at his form as he closes the door and walks towards her. She had fully expected the place to be deserted by now, even the janitor had bid her goodnight—but apparently not. "What are you doing here?"

Robin looks contrite, looks pained and looks frustrated all in one, and they must make a picture—her in her red dress looking tired, excited and terrified, and him in his white shirt and brown shorts, satchel over his shoulders, looking like the world is upon his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Regina," he says, and his brows furrow making her heart pound, "I know you told me to go, told me to forget you, and I've tried, I tried so hard, but I can't do it." She wanted to complain, but really, wasn't she exactly the same? "I told myself that I shouldn't, my brain said no a million times, but my heart took me here."

She shakes her head. "Robin," she whispers his name once more, a plea, a need, for him to be the sensible one, because she's losing her resolve and she no longer knows how to keep saying no when he's here, offering her everything she needs, though he's still too out of her reach. "I…We talked about this, I told you it was best to stay away…you being here, this is torture…"

"I'm sorry," he says, moving forward until he's front of her, hovering over the table and towering over her. "I have told myself to stay away over and over again, and I have, every day, but today is just not one of those days." She looks up at him with wide eyes when he moves over to where she's sitting and grabs her upper arm, pushing her up and pressing her close to him and kissing her senseless.

She thinks of fighting it, thinks of not letting this happen, but god, it's been happening even before it began, and she's not capable of pushing him away again—not this time.

Not when he's fighting for her.

I know it looks bleak, but there will be a happy ending, and smut is coming. Let me know if you like this. I should be posting the next installment this week! Thanks!