Robin ended up touching herself twice more that night, cumming to filthy images of the farmer both times. She'd gone on for so long she was beginning to worry her new toy would die despite arriving fully charged.

One night, she insisted. How often do I have the place to myself? Just one night of this couldn't hurt.

But she was human, and eventually the constant rounds of stimulation and dirty fantasies meant that her body desperately needed a break. She put the toy on charge, dressed herself in a fluffy robe and planted her ass by the comfortable chair in her sitting room with a book she'd been meaning to catch up on and a third glass of wine. Maybe if she had the energy later she'd return to bed to mess up the sheets once more.

Robin was barely a chapter in when she heard a noise coming from the front of the shop. Wrapping her robe around her, she shuffled out to investigate. Someone was rattling the doorknob from the outside.

"Sebby? Maru?" she called, thinking it was one of her kids forgetting their keys again, as they so often did. There was no response, just more incessant rattling. Her shoulders tensed. Maybe it was just the wind? But the air was still tonight. And wind didn't hone in on the doorknob like that. Steeling herself, she approached the door and opened it with the comforting knowledge that her axe was well within arms reach.

What she found on the other side wasn't at all what she expected.

"Heyyyy Robin." The farmer's voice was slurred and her body swayed like tall grass on a windy day. "When did you get here? Did I invite you over?"

Oh Yoba. I summoned her. I masturbated while thinking about her and that summoned her to my front door.

Robin gave her a once over, watching her eyes shift in and out of focus. Before she could say anything, the farmer peered over her shoulder. "And where's Sully?" she asked, referring to the little dog she adopted after Marnie found him on her porch. "Suuuullyyyyy!" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth and spinning around to make sure she could be heard.

Just then, someone definitively not Sully crashed through the trees leading from town. "There you are, Farmer!" Shane exclaimed, only barely more steady on his feet than the farmer was on hers.

"For Yoba's sake, Shane, how much did you two drink?"

"Only a few beers!" he said defensively. "How was I supposed to know she was such a lightweight?"

"Ohhhh, I get it." The intoxicated woman pointed at herself. "This isn't my house." Then at Robin. "This is youuuur house!" She booped the redhead on the nose and giggled.

"Come on." Robin slipped her shoes on. "I'm taking you home."

"I can get her," Shane offered.

"You can make sure you get home yourself," Robin rebutted. "I know you can handle yourself, otherwise I would escort you back too, but this requires my full attention right now." She gestured to the farmer who was trying desperately to prove that she could walk in a straight line while touching her nose, and failing spectacularly.

Shane belched. "Fair enough."

"Come on, you," she said, firmly grabbing the farmer by the arm. Shane turned on his heels to leave, cutting back through town to get to the ranch. Meanwhile, Robin did her best to steer her inebriated friend towards the backwoods.

"Robiiiin?" the farmer asked. "You smell nice! Why do you smell so nice?"

"The house was empty tonight. I took the opportunity to have a long bath."

"You smell nice," she repeated with a grin so goofy Robin couldn't help but smile. "Like lavender and vanilla."

"Drunk you has good senses," Robin commented. "That's the exact scent of my soap."

"Like my grandma." She took another deep, dramatic inhale, fanning the air under her nose. "Grandma Robin."

"You're hilarious," she deadpanned.

The farmer continued to babble on about her grandmother the entire walk home, feeling the need to mention several times that she was talking about her maternal grandmother, who was 'really cool' and 'the infinitely superior one'. Not her paternal grandmother, who was 'a homophobic old windbag". Robin had to admit that as much as she was just trying to make sure the farmer got back safely, she was very much enjoying herself. The whole thing was quite amusing.

"Right, where are your keys?" she asked when they reached the front door of the farmhouse. Sully, clearly eager to get inside too, pawed at the door and looked up pitifully at his owner.

"Pfttt." The farmer blew a raspberry. "I don't use keys! This is Pelican Town! Who's gonna rob me? Lewis? Actually, probably yeah. Damn it, I should have locked the door!" She turned the knob only to find it didn't budge. "Aha! I did lock the door! I'm so smart. No one's gonna be robbin' me now, Robin!" The sudden snort-laugh startled the older woman. "Ha! Robbin' Robin! That's hilarious!"

"Ahem." She cleared her throat. "Your keys?"

"Keys. Keys, keys, keys, keys…" The farmer patted down her pockets, searching through each and every one. "Where are your keys?"

"Oh, for Yoba's sake…" Robin tried the door herself, wanting to make sure it was actually locked and the farmer wasn't just being a careless buffoon. When it didn't budge, she tried the windows on the off chance that any of them would open. No luck. Credit where credit was due, sober farmer was good at protecting herself. If only she had the foresight to prepare for drunk farmer's idiocy.

Thankfully, Robin had installed the lock on this door, so she knew it was a simple one. Just a single-cylinder deadbolt. Easy enough to pick. She just hoped she wasn't too out of practice.

Robin removed the bobby pin that had been keeping her hair out of her face, twisting it in her fingers until it was in the shape that she wanted. Getting down so that she was eye level with the keyhole, she inserted it, looking for the first pin.

"Woah, how do you know how to do that?" the farmer cried. "You're like a spy or something."

"I have a lot of hobbies."

She was saying something else but Robin tuned her out, focusing on finding the pin, hearing the click, and moving onto the next one. Rinse and repeat five more times. The wine admittedly made her hands a little unsteady but she pressed on. She wouldn't stop until she saw the farmer safely in her bed.

Not in Robin's bed, obviously. Though that might have been another solution to their problem. Let the farmer crash in Robin's bed and sleep it off until morning. But that wasn't appropriate. Because Robin was married. And a little tipsy. And, regardless of the excuse, she was sure having another woman sleeping in their bed wasn't something Demetrius would appreciate.

Not to mention the activities Robin had been engaging in the entire night might have made that situation… complicated.

"There," she sighed after the final pin caught and clicked, letting the door swing open.

"Magic!"

Robin rolled her eyes. "Go to bed, you."

The older woman followed her inside, if only to make sure she didn't end up sleeping on the floor in a drunken stupor. She took a moment to admire the progress of the farmhouse since the start of the year. The kitchen had just been put in and the farmer was gradually moving her storage system out to the new shed, only a few near-empty chests still inside the house. When Robin realised the farmer was openly stripping in her front room, mumbling 'pyjamas… pyjamas…' under her breath, she made even more of a point to investigate the wall, knocking on it as if to test its structural integrity.

"Yes, this wall is nice and sturdy," she thought aloud, trying to cover up the fact that she had no idea what else to do with herself. Thankfully, the farmer didn't notice, strutting around in her underwear as she tried to find her sleeping clothes. Robin tried not to look, even though her brain told her it was probably fine. She'd seen the farmer in a bikini while at the bathhouse. Was this really much different?

No, she thought firmly. Give her privacy.

Robin finally heard her collapse into bed with an undignified "oof!" When she turned around though, she felt the need to quickly cover her eyes again because the farmer was still in her underwear.

"Farmer!" she snapped. "Where are your pyjamas?"

"Eh, don't need 'em," she brushed off. "Too hot. And I can't remember where they are. Maybe in the laundry. But they're either clean or dirty. And I like sleeping like this." She starfished on the bed and Robin's cheeks flared, her heart fluttering and a tingling sensation settling low in her belly.

"O-okay," she stammered. "As long as you're comfortable."

"Oh, believe me, I am so comfortable." The farmer nestled herself into her bed for emphasis, and Robin found herself fascinated by the way the curves of her body shifted with each movement. "Come join me!" she exclaimed, rolling around in the sheets. "It is so nice here!"

The redhead stared, her heart pounding now. "I will not."

"You're looking at me." She giggled. "The same way I look at you everyyyy… Tuesday!" she finally recalled, her words drawn out. "And you're so–"

"Farmer," Robin warned, her voice low and sharp as a new axe. "I would advise you to stop talking. Before you say something you're going to regret."

Her brows furrowed and she frowned. "Right. Because you're married."

Robin just pressed her lips together, not wanting to admit that it was taking every ounce of self control to not take the farmer up on her offer, whatever the offer may be. She looked so light and pliable in this moment, so easy to have fun with. But one, the farmer was obviously not capable of giving proper consent and Robin was absolutely not going to take advantage of that. And two, Robin was a married woman.

She took a hesitant step towards the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

The farmer brightened with hope, and Robin had to admit it was kind of adorable to see. "Really?"

"Of course."

"Good." She stretched her arms over her head before burrowing deep under the covers. "You're the best part of my day, Robin," she murmured. "I love seeing you. Even if you are married."

"I…" Robin swallowed. "I love seeing you too, Farmer." She started towards the door again but hesitated. Quickly, she grabbed the empty water glass on the bedside table and went to the sink to refill it. She had a feeling the farmer would need it. Robin dug around the farmer's desk until she located a scrap of paper and pen.

Drink up — Robin

She left the new water glass and note by the bed housing an already sleeping farmer. Robin chuckled. She could have never expected her to be such a lightweight. And while Shane said they'd only had a few beers and she didn't suspect that the farmer had been mixing alcohol, she left a trash can by the bed too. Just in case.

Robin hesitated by the door once again, watching the farmer's sleeping form. She looked a mess, the covers half flung on her body, arm jutting out at an odd angle, hair everywhere. Robin already suspected the farmer would wake up with a ripping hangover. She didn't need the body aches from sleeping in a weird position.

Carefully, Robin approached her as she would a sleeping lion. Yes, she was married, but she was just helping a friend so that she'd be comfortable. At least, that's how she rationalised it. Robin eased her arm back down with care. She pulled the blanket up to the farmer's chin. The action reminded her of when she would tuck her kids in before bed. Just as she did with them, she brushed the farmer's hair away from her forehead, smiling down at her. The contact made Robin's skin buzz.

Oh, how badly she wanted to lean over and press a kiss to that spot like she had done with Sebastian and Maru a thousand times. But that was only appropriate between mother and child. Not a woman who was down bad for her sleeping crush.

"What am I doing?" she muttered, turning around and forcing herself to leave the farmhouse before she did something she couldn't take back.

XXX

"Good morning," Robin greeted when she bumped into the farmer in the backwoods, her steps stuttering to a stop. Though 'morning' was more of a courtesy. It was already past midday. "I was just coming to check up on you. How are you feeling?"

"Mortified." She buried her head in her hands. "I can't believe you saw me like that."

"Hey, we all have our nights."

"How bad was I?"

"Err…" Robin winced. "I've seen worse?"

"Pam doesn't count."

"Well what were you doing getting so hammered anyway?"

"I didn't mean to, I swear!" The farmer looked sheepish. "I just planned to go to the saloon and have a bottle of mead with Willy after an evening of fishing. Then I had a glass of wine with Leah. And a pint of beer with Pam. And a couple more with Shane… it just got out of control!"

Robin chuckled dryly. "Yeah, mixing alcohol will kill you," she said in a tone that indicated she knew this from experience. She looked at the farmer tenderly, her voice gentler now. "I've seen you at the saloon on Fridays before. You're usually so controlled. Why did you have that much?"

"I dunno, I just…" The farmer kicked up a little dirt with her boot.

"You just…?"

She shrugged, looking down at the ground. "I wanted to bond with people."

Robin blinked. "By getting so drunk I had to pick the lock to your farmhouse for you to even get inside?"

"You what?"

"Okay, you are banned from the saloon."

A bit of light laughter filled the air between them, followed by a long gap of silence. The farmer shifted uncomfortably and Robin almost considered dropping the conversation entirely. But before she could speak up to change the subject, the farmer said, "I guess I'm frustrated at how my relationships with the other villagers are coming along."

"Farner, what are you talking about?" Robin asked gently.

"I feel like they still haven't fully accepted me," she blurted out. "I thought that by spending time with them during their regular saloon night, it might make them like me more? I just overestimated the amount of bonding I could handle."

Robin sighed and pulled her into a hug, which surprised both of them. When she realised what she'd done, she froze, her heart rate picking up just as it had the night before. She felt the farmer go stiff in her arms, almost as if she was afraid to breathe. Quickly letting go, Robin cleared her throat and put a couple inches of appropriate distance between them. Their cheeks were matching shades of red.

"The people of Pelican Town have been here a long time," she explained. "They're protective of their own and wary of outsiders. Just be patient. They'll come around."

"But you and I grew close so quickly," the farmer almost whined.

"What can I say? A new farmer from the big city. It's no wonder I got swept off my feet," Robin teased, bringing up her words about Demetrius before. She quite liked the way the farmer's blush spread all the way to the tips of her ears. "Besides, you're making progress with the others. The ladies from aerobics class like you."

"I suppose so. Pam sent me a cheese cauliflower recipe in the mail this morning too. And I guess Leah and I are growing closer. She gave me a sculpture the other day. I don't really get what it's supposed to mean but I'm not an artsy person."

"See?" Robin tried to keep her voice cheery and free of petty jealousy. This was about reassuring the farmer, not stroking her own ego. Her stupid crush couldn't play into this. "You're already on the right track. So no more nights like that, okay? Unless you're with someone responsible who'll take care of you. Yoba knows Shane didn't."

"I'll keep that in mind for next time, drinking buddy." The farmer winked, and now it was Robin's turn to get flustered.

"N-no, I didn't mean–"

"Relax. I won't subject you to that again. But seriously." She reached out to squeeze Robin's arm gently. "Thank you. For taking care of me."

"Of course." Robin breathed in, then out. "You're like family, Farmer. I treat you like one of my own."

The farmer smiled. "It's nice to know someone in this town likes me. Even after you've seen what a mess I can be."

Sure… Robin thought with a dull ache in her chest. Likes…

A/N - Hello dear reader! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm not sure if I'll get the chance to incorporate this into the fic but I headcanon Robin didn't plan to get pregnant with Maru so quickly but when she did, it basically stuck her with Demetrius immediately. Yes I keep torturing her but I promise things will get better… eventually. Not next chapter though. As always, let me know what you think and until next time, stay safe.

This story is also available on AO3. I also have a Twitter kayasmuttytoast where I post behind the scenes content, polls, writing updates and more. I also have a Tumblr and Bluesky kayassmuttytoast. The links are in my profile!