Sorry for the longer wait. Not sure where my muse went, but here is the next chapter. Just a really fluffy update, and I hope it is enjoyable.
His tongue, his hands, his mouth, do things to her, unreal things, and this isn't real, she knows this isn't real. She is bordering somewhere between wakefulness and dreamland, but she is desperately holding on to the sensation running through her body. Desperately clinging to the feeling of his scruff against her skin, the feeling of his flesh between her thighs, but then its gone. Only the phantom of his touch remaining, leaving her uncomfortably aroused.
Her head is pounding, her mind a hazy fog, when she is finally pulled from her restless nap. Luckily it is not Henry, but her phone alarm blaring beside her that brings her to wakefulness, steals her away from her fantasy. She finds Henry still sleeping, and uses the time to hop in the shower.
The water streaming along her skin soothes her aching muscles while the steam helps her breath noticeably better, and by the time she steps from the shower, dresses hastily in layers of warmth, she could almost pass for healthy - almost. Her cracking voice definitely gives her away. When Henry's soft footfalls find her ears moments later, he looks frightened by her greeting of 'hello sweetheart'.
"You sound bad, Mom." He states, looking at her, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes.
"I know." She croaks back, then decides she should try to save her voice. Henry follows her to the dining room table, where she sets him up with some crayons and paper, before setting herself down in a chair with a cup of tea and honey, him with a snack of carrot sticks. The warm liquid coats her throat, and she lazily watches Henry color and crunch on his carrots while he spends the early evening regaling her with tales from daycare, chatting about his friends and favorite teacher, Mary Margaret, and asking when Emma and Killian will come for show and tell. Regina nods, smiles, answers with single word responses for the most part, until over an hour has passed, and there is a knock at the door.
Henry's head perks up, his neck stretching, an expression of curiosity filling his face.
"Mom?" He looks to her, and she smiles, rises from her chair, and tells him that he has a surprise visitor.
The boy beams and bounces when he opens the door and spots Robin on the other side. Regina can't help but feel like she does the same, hopefully her excitement is less obvious.
"Hi Henry." Robin replies to Henry's numerous greetings before the boy takes him by the hand and pulls him through the door, eager to show Robin his toys, and tell him stories, and ask where Roland is.
Henry talks for at least two minutes straight before Regina finally asks him to politely let Robin respond. She is happily surprised that her voice sounds a little less grating.
Robin looks at her with an endearing smile before turning his attention back to the boy.
"I brought you and your mother some dinner Henry, but Roland already ate his, so he stayed with a friend of mine. What do you say we go get the table set, and then the three of us can enjoy our meal?"
"Yeah! Robin, I'll show you how." Henry states, making quick work of moving to the kitchen.
Robin turns back to her, his grin fading slightly as he looks at her with concerned eyes.
"How are you feeling?"
"Much better," she responds quickly, "the nap helped."
He nods, but is clearly not convinced. His hand lifts to her cheek, and she lets her eyes flutter, allows her head to lean into his touch, and when her eyelids are open once more, he is closer to her, smiling.
"Have you taken anything for the fever?" He asks, removing his hand, shifting the bag he holds under his other arm.
"I'm sure I'll feel better once I have some of this fabulous soup you boasted about." She states with a smirk, dismissing his concern and turning to follow Henry.
Robin follows her to the kitchen, and just as she is about to help Henry get bowls and spoons for the table, Robin asks her to sit, pours her a fresh cup of tea from the kettle, and makes himself comfortable in her kitchen with Henry as a sous chef.
She watches the two of them, sips her tea, and she finds that she really does feel better. It is obvious she still has a fever. She can feel the heat behind her eyes, making them heavy, making her whole body flush, at the same time sending chills through her occasionally, but the nagging cough she had earlier subsided after her shower and has not yet returned.
Robin and Henry handle most of the dinner conversation while she sips at spoonfuls of soup, smiling at their easy conversation, at the way Robin is with her boy. It makes sense that he is good with a child. He has his own, and he is a pediatrician, it seems to come naturally, but she has never been involved with someone so in tune with her son. Then again, she reminds herself, she has not really been with anyone since Daniel died, never willing to give someone else a chance, knowing they could never live up to him.
As she sits at the dinner table, enjoying the laughter and stories being shared, she wonders if she has done Henry a disservice by refusing to let someone in, she wonders if she has done herself a disservice.
Something about Robin draws her out, pulls at her, like a magnet, and she can't comprehend it, doesn't want to even try to explain it. Maybe it is timing, maybe it is him, but she is finally willing to give someone a chance. She wants to give him a chance. She will.
With their bowls empty, and the excess creamy chicken and wild rice soup placed in her refrigerator for tomorrow, each chocolate fudge brownie Robin baked for dessert devoured, the three of them meander to Henry's room where Robin and the boy put together puzzles, read books, and have numerous races between miniature cars - most of which Henry wins.
Regina feels mildly left out. Usually it is her that Henry wants to play with, she is the one to read him his books, it is her losing car races to him, but still, she finds it enjoyable watching their interaction, lets them have the time together because she does like this man, and she wants Henry to like him too. She passes the time putting together a puzzle beside them, slowly, mostly just watching them, smiling and laughing along with them, until Henry asks for a movie.
"Here." Robin says, padding into the kitchen where Regina insisted on washing up their dishes from lunch. He is holding a bottle of tylenol out for her to grasp while simultaneously pulling a glass from her cupboard and filling it to the brim with water.
She nods her acceptance, mutters a quick thank you. She is not used to being taken care of which makes this whole experience unsettling, but pleasantly so, something she thinks she could get used to, but isn't sure she should.
"I am fairly certain Henry fell asleep two minutes into the movie." Robin says, a smile growing on his face.
"I'm not surprised." Regina responds after gulping down a couple tylenol and the water. "He had so much fun playing with you this evening. I think the excitement wore him out." Her own lips pull into a smile as she thinks back through the evening.
Robin is leaning against the kitchen counter, the sink behind him, his palms resting on the cold surface to each side of his waist, and he is looking at her, studying her.
"What?" She questions self consciously because even though she feels surprisingly comfortable with this man, he has a way of unnerving her at the same time.
"You are beautiful Regina." He states, then bites his lower lip, and looks down sheepishly like he isn't sure if this is the proper time for such revelations. "Are you feeling better?"
Her smile widens as his eyes meet hers and she takes a step toward him, sets the glass on the counter next to him. "I am."
His hand draws up and glides across the skin of her cheek, brushes her hair behind her ear, and then his wrist settles there on her shoulder, his fingers absently playing with her raven tresses.
"You still have a fever." He states with a slight frown.
"Yes, but you should have heard my voice earlier." She smiles at the thought of Henry's face when he first heard her croaking words this morning. "I am definitely doing better. Do you have to get back to Roland?" She asks, just now realizing she has monopolized his time for most of the evening.
Robin removes his hand from her hair and glances at his watch before placing both hands on her biceps and gently rubbing from shoulder to elbow and back again, a calming touch, and it does not go unnoticed how he has a tendency to touch her, almost like it is instinctual.
"He will be in bed by now. Can I help you get Henry there as well?"
She nods, allows him to share the task of putting Henry to bed in his room, and it all feels so domestic, so natural, and she isn't certain if that should frighten her or relieve her. She thinks maybe both.
Once Henry is settled under his covers fast asleep her and Robin sit comfortably on the couch, sipping on steaming tea, talking casually. They stay on safe topics, mostly his work, her work, how they each found their way into the medical field. He tells her of his family back home, of the farm he grew up on, and how he is the 'black sheep' for not having stayed and worked the farm with his brothers. She tells him of her love for animals and her innate curiosity about life that led her to her own profession.
They don't talk about Roland's mother or Henry's father. They already touched the subject, already know they share a common loss of a loved one, shared grief, but this isn't the time or place for such a heavy conversation. Their lighthearted banter keeps Robin beside her on the couch, legs grazing and shoulders bumping occasionally, chatting until 10:00 PM when he finally looks at his watch and releases a defeated sigh.
"I should be going. It is getting late, and you need your sleep if you are going to get well."
She smiles at him and places her empty tea cup on the small side table next to the sofa. They stand together and she guides him to the door. She doesn't really want the night to end, hates for the easy flow of their conversation to be interrupted, but she knows he is right. Her throat is aching and her eyelids have been drooping for the last half hour.
"Thank you Robin." She says, and it feels drastically inadequate. Not even her father really knew how to comfort and care for a sick loved one, and luckily, she doesn't get sick often, but she doesn't think she's ever been tended to how Robin tended to her this evening, and it leaves her with a feeling of being well cared for, a feeling of being comforted.
"You're very welcome Regina. It certainly was no hardship for me." He says with a slight chuckle. "And perhaps you'll give some thought to that date I would very much like to take you on." He looks mildly uncertain again, trying to gauge her reaction as he continues, "once you are feeling well, of course."
His phone call, the voicemail, had completely slipped her mind. The comfortable togetherness of the evening pulling her thoughts from the anxious excitement she felt when she initially heard Robin's request.
A bright smile fills her face along with a blush she can feel, but hopes is not recognizable behind her feverish flush. "I didn't get a chance to accept yet did I?" She says, and it comforts her to see Robin's anxiety disappear when she responds with, "I would like that, a date." She states simply.
He returns her smile with those blinding dimples. "And not just a 'playdate' this time?" He asks, and she laughs, the sound slightly off from her dry throat and the roughness present from this lingering sickness.
"No," she responds, "no kids this time."
He continues to smile, and just stares at her, brings his hand back up to her cheek, back toward her hair, and she is certain that she will never tire of having his fingers in her hair, she is certain that it is one of the best feelings this world has to offer.
The moment feels heavy as their eyes remain locked, wide smiles simmering down into smaller ones, her hand rising to rest on his next to her face.
"Regina?" He asks, voice sounding almost as rough as her own.
"Yes."
"May I kiss you?" He asks, and the absurdity of this situation would make her laugh, almost, if it weren't for the sincerity in his eyes, and the tangible weight of this moment.
She smiles a little brighter before saying, "I would say yes, but I'm afraid I am contagious, and have probably already sent a dangerous amount of germs your way." Her head drops slightly, leaning toward his wrist, his fingers still caressing her hair while hers massage his knuckles.
"It would be worth it." He says earnestly, drawing Regina's eyes to his again, "but alas, good things come to those who wait."
She doesn't miss the implication that he thinks she is one of those good things worth waiting for, and the memory of her earlier dream flashes in her head, the vivid feeling of him on her and around her and in her, and it is enough to make her blush noticeably this time, but he just smiles and moves his hand behind her neck to pull her closer.
He does kiss her after all, but it is chaste and friendly, on her temple, and even though it carries no heat, the simple action has a shiver running through her that lasts until she is pulled down into her dreams again later that night.
Thanks for reading, please take the time to let me know what you think, or if there is anything you would like to see in future chapters. One reviewer asked if we would see Robin's POV, and I don't think I'll do it in this story, but might do some oneshots later on. I just find it easier writing Regina's POV. Thank you so much for reading! :)