The Christmas Cottage II: A Magical Christmas (Part I - The Proposal)
A/N: Here's a sequel to my Advent story last year – The Christmas Cottage. I hope to have the rest up before the end of the year (all seven days of them) so we'll see how it goes!
I hope everyone has a great holiday weekend and that you get everything you wanted and then some.
-Mac
Christmas music played through the conference room as their small staff enjoyed a buffet set up on the tables pushed against the walls. They milled about the room, chatting happily as they celebrated the holiday season together. Some wore silly sweaters while others had chosen to don silly hats to enhance the festive mood that filled the space. Happiness swelled inside Regina as she sipped at her eggnog, pleased that the party was going so well.
"Hey," Robin said, coming to stand next to her. "Do you want to make our speech now? It's getting late and everyone will want to head home soon."
She glanced at the windows and was surprised to see how dark it had gotten. With the first day of winter so close, she knew it didn't mean it was late but it was almost time to get home. Regina was looking forward to getting home to the cozy cottage she and Robin shared, changing into comfortable clothes and curling next to the fire with him.
"That sounds like a good idea," she said, lowering the music as Robin called for everyone's attention.
As their staff quieted down and turned to face them, Robin wrapped his arm around Regina and held her close. "On behalf of Regina and myself, we want to thank you for all the hard work you've done. We know it's not easy getting a new foundation off the ground and that we wouldn't be as far as we are without all of you. So thank you."
They all applauded, cheering Robin and Regina. When they quieted again, Regina continued. "We know that this is the last day we all will be together until after the New Year as most of you are taking some much deserved time off to enjoy the holidays with your families and friends. So we want to wish you a happy holidays and a happy New Year. Rest up, celebrate with your loved ones and we'll all be ready to hit the ground running in January."
"But before you do that, a toast to all of you and all the good work we've done and all the good work we will do," Robin said, raising his cup.
Regina raised hers as well. "And may you all have a joyful holiday season and a very happy, healthy and prosperous New Year."
"Cheers," he finished. Everyone echoed it and they all tapped cups before finishing their drinks.
They all cleaned up together and soon the office closed for the weekend. Robin and Regina climbed into his car, waiting for it to warm up as she continued to buzz from the party. "That went well," she said.
"It did," he agreed. "I'm glad they all had fun. They deserved it."
"We would not be where we are with them," she replied, nodding.
As heat filled the car, Robin pulled out of their spot and turned onto the road to head home. She leaned back, smiling. "I can't believe we actually pulled it off. That we went from talking about it in Granny's kitchen to actually having our own foundation within a year."
"It's mostly because of you," he said. "You took the ball and ran with it. We wouldn't be where we are without your hard work and dedication."
"Don't sell yourself short. You've been a great leader. Everyone's rallied around you," she told him. Robin had managed to gain the respect of the community in a short amount of time and worked hard to build relationships with the agencies they would need to partner with the most. He had a natural charm and charisma that drew people in and the passion he held for their work kept them close.
He reached out and took her hand. "We're a great team."
She nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. "We are."
Robin pulled his hand back as he turned onto their street. Several houses lined both sides of the street, all of them decorated for Christmas. The street was lit up in multicolored lights and drivers were greeted by a myriad of holiday figures from Frosty the Snowman to Santa Claus himself. It bolstered Regina's spirit and she smiled as she admired each display yet again.
"We're home," he announced, pulling into their driveway. Regina's spirits soared even more and she smiled at the house they had called theirs for almost a year.
After years of not being able to decorate in New York, she had gone all out in decorating their house this year. She and Robin hung up many strands of lights along the porch as well in the windows and around the evergreen trees on their property. They also put out different lawn decorations, mostly reindeer, while Robin had managed to get a light-up Santa's sleigh on their roof. Illuminated candy canes lined their front walk, completing the Christmas look outside.
"Admiring our handiwork yet again?" Robin asked teasingly as he turned off the car.
She nodded, unbuckling herself. "I just love it. It's so good to see it, especially after what I used to let pass as decorating for Christmas back in New York."
He reached over and cupped her cheek. "I told you - don't live with your regrets. You're taking the time to enjoy life now so do that."
"Right," she said, leaning over the center console to give him a quick kiss. "Let's head inside."
They climbed out of the car and entered their house through the side door located in the kitchen. Regina flipped on the lights before crossing to the foyer, setting her bag down and taking off her coat. She shivered from the chill in the air and looked at Robin. "Can you check the thermostat?"
"Looking now but we are home earlier than usual," he reminded her. "I don't think it's set to turn on just yet."
"Can you override it?" she asked, rubbing her arms.
He nodded, pressing some buttons before closing the lid. "It should kick on in a few minutes. And I'll light a fire too."
"Sounds good," she said, kissing his cheek as she walked past him. "I'm heading up to change."
"I'll be right behind you," he replied, taking off his own coat.
Regina changed into an oversized sweater and comfy pants, washing the makeup off her face as Robin also dressed in comfortable clothes. They soon lay on the couch, the fire crackling in their fireplace while they wrapped themselves up in a blanket. Mugs of hot chocolate sat on their coffee table and Robin put on a Christmas movie for them to watch.
She curled around him, resting her head on his chest. Next to the TV was their Christmas tree and it also was a step up from the one she had shared with Daniel. Robin and Regina had gone to the tree farm at the start of December and picked out their first tree together. Once they had gotten it home, they decorated it with items they had purchased the day before as well as family ornaments recovered from Leo's attic and Granny's attic. It was the tree she had always wanted and now could finally have.
"Are you watching the movie or the tree?" Robin asked her, combing his fingers through her hair.
"Both," she replied. "You?"
He kissed her forehead. "I'm mostly watching you. You have this small but beautiful smile every time you look at the tree."
"I'm just so glad to have it," she said. "It's my first real Christmas tree in a long time."
"Mine too," he replied. She glanced up at him and he shrugged. "Kinda hard to fit a full-length Christmas tree in a tent. We often had to make do with whatever we could get. One year, we placed a bow on a rock and called it a tree."
She frowned, picturing it in her mind. "That sounds a bit sad."
He shrugged. "We made the most of it and had a happy Christmas. I guess it's all how you look at it and how you approach it. I mean, if we had to have a small tree this year, would you have been disappointed?"
"Probably not," she admitted. "Just as long as we were truly celebrating and not just momentarily slowing down long enough to exchange presents like Daniel and I did."
"Christmas is definitely a state of mind," he replied, smiling before hugging her closer to him.
She cuddled against him. "Yes, it is. And I'm glad I found it again."
"Me too," he replied, resting his cheek against her hair. They laid there, wrapped around each other as they continued to watch Christmas movies.
Regina couldn't think of a better way to spend a Friday night.
We’re pleased to announce that the first week of Outlaw Queen Advent 2018 has now been unlocked, make sure you keep following until the 24th for more exciting gifts.
We’re once again astounded and in awe of the talent and generosity of the OQ fandom that makes us able to unlock varied, beautiful gifts every day!
Summary: The ancient festival of Saturn is here, and Regina and Robin seek a safe haven where noble matron and lowly gladiator can love each other freely and openly - even just for a week.Written for the OQ Advent Calendar 2018, this story works as either a standalone or as (future) part of the Bread and Games verse.
I. Dies Solis
It is the best of times; it is the worst of times.
It is the time to relax the rule of reason and regulations; it is the time for foolishness and tomfoolery. It is the season of darkness waning, and the rebirth of light as golden Apollo takes the reigns firmly in hand. It is the week for joy and merrymaking; it is an excuse for extravagance and excess, where some would gain a glimpse into Elysium and some descend directly to the depths of Tartarus.
In short, the festival of Saturnalia is may be in some ways like all others and yet knows no equal.
Rome is decked out in a festive cloak of gold and green. From her most imposing temple towering on Capitoline Hill down to the poorest hovel in the city’s slums, swaths of fragrant evergreen cascade down walls and twirl around columns, and wreaths of holly have been hammered to doorways. Trees and shrubs in gardens and parks are adorned with golden suns, moons, and stars for all the world to admire.
And it seems all the world has gathered right here, right now.
Regina is standing in the Forum Romanum, one hand clutching Roland’s, the other gripping Henry’s shoulder. The crowd is swelling still, growing by the minute, cresting like a wave and sending them a-sway as it squeezes and compresses around them, then settles briefly before the next surge. Roaring like a stormy sea on which she’s only barely adrift, it sets Regina’s nerves on fire and sends her heart on a wild stampede. Her breaths are shallow—breathe, Regina, breathe. In…and out. The smile she cracks for Roland’s sake only has Henry pressing into her side with a knowing, consoling frown, and it certainly doesn’t fool Robin either.
Robin, who’s standing close, closer than either of them would normally dare risk. Robin, solid at her side, braced behind her back, with a hand on the hilt of his gladius, ready to protect his domina as befits a bodyguard, a gladiator, a slave—ready, in reality, to protect them all, to protect his family, though law and custom won’t hear of such. Robin, whispering reassurances as she fights back against the rising tide of anxiety.
Not much longer, she knows.
Continue on AO3.
Robin searches for the perfect way to earn a kiss from someone special while Regina glowers her way through the holiday, pretending not to care who that special someone might (or might not) be. A Missing Year Christmas. For @onceuponanadvent. [ffn | ao3]
It’s almost Christmas, she’s forced to remind herself for no less than the tenth time that evening. It’s time for tinsel and holly and good will towards others, not for simmering tempers or the plotting of multiple deaths in the castle – well, just the one. She’d happily settle for one at the moment.
Christmas, Regina.
She takes a deep breath.
“Not a creature was stirring,” she carries on reading, more firmly this time as she flips to the following page. “Not even a—”
There’s more muffled giggling from one corner of the drawing room. The same insufferable corner that’s been trying on Regina’s last nerve for the better part of her evening, with all that maddening cheer and those secretive grins about whatever the hell they’ve been whispering away to each other.
“Regina?” pipes up a small voice by her ear, and the tension snaps between her shoulders, sapping right back out of her. “Not even a what?”
Big brown eyes blink expectantly up at her as she tilts her head down toward the boy – something creaking with the effort – and gives him a full-watted smile, as though she hasn’t just been glaring most murderously at his father on the other side of the room.
“Not even a mouse,” Regina tells Roland in a theatrical hush, and he looks rapt at the idea, wiggling closer to examine the book’s illustrations, a whole family of mice fast asleep in a tiny plaid mitten. “The stockings were hung by the chimney with care…”
Another bit of stifled laughter, and any hopes of St. Nicholas soon being there are ground to a halt as Regina clamps her teeth together, endeavoring not to explode.
She’d tasked the thief with stringing the garland – what should have been a quite simple thing, considering his qualifications as a forest person with some presumed knowledge of trees. She’d told him as much when he questioned her confidence that he could be something of use for a change, and she’d even been gracious enough to ignore him when he had the audacity to smile at her answer.
He was right, as it turns out. She should have known better than to trust him with this.
He’d apparently enlisted some help in one Belle and a Ruby, the three of them disappearing shortly after supper and returning long after what seemed entirely reasonable to Regina, looking flushed from the cold but pleased with their fresh armfuls of pine. They’d sat themselves down on a set of cushions closest to the hearth, and there they’ve been cozily huddled ever since, the box of ribbons and bells Regina had brought them forgotten on the floor as they sip on warm drinks and laugh about some story Robin’s just told them.
Belle’s response has Robin’s eyes crinkling with a half-held smile, and then he’s turning an ear toward Ruby as she chimes in and places a familiar hand on his knee, squeezing affectionately there.
“There’s a special plant for that, you know,” Ruby is saying, with a suggestive arch of an eyebrow at him, and then she seems to realize too late how loudly she’s just spoken, shrinking slyly into her mug with a not-so-sorry grin to match. Even Snow glances up from her knitting – an assortment of red woolly stockings already piled high by her armchair – and looks at her curiously, to which Ruby winks back before mouthing a mischievous Later that has Belle fighting a grin of her own.
Robin, however, is looking thoughtful all of a sudden, biting his lip as though he would have quite liked to know more if not for the audience they’ve made.
It would take almost no effort at all, thinks Regina, a mere flick of her wrist and those pointy pine needles could inflict some real damage, remind him of the work to be done instead of all this shameless flirting, ruining storytime with Roland and – speaking of Roland—
The boy is not so subtly craning his head over the book in her lap, in a clear attempt to see for himself what all this fuss with the “sugar plums” must be about, and Regina feels the anger leak out of her again, a nagging guilt filling up in its place.
“Here, why don’t we try this.” Regina scoots Roland back a little, liberating the book and standing it onto its spine for a second. With a wave of her free hand, the book gives a rustling shake before bouncing to hover mid-air in front of them, blocking the rest of the room from view. Its pages flatten of their own accord, and the sugar plums begin to dance a jerky stop-motion dance around slumbering children’s bonneted heads.
“Whoa,” says Roland a moment later when the book, quivering again, turns the page onto an open window and blows out a dusting of snowflakes at them.
He dabs a finger delightedly at each glittering clump on his clothes (“Look, Regina, it’s gone!”), and she smiles, feeling pleased that they finally have this small bit of space to themselves. She simply can’t be bothered with anything else, really, beyond the approach of St. Nick’s miniature sleigh, and the whoop Roland makes at the sight of his eight flying reindeer.
He nestles himself more snugly into the crook of her elbow while she narrates their little movie to him. It’s easier now to imagine those coy murmured sounds at the other end of the room as nothing but meaningless noise, and more than once Regina even almost-smiles to hear Leroy’s voice booming nearby, tipsily heckling Friar Tuck over a half glass of sherry and what otherwise would have been a rather solemn game of chess.
The animations have slowed their progress considerably, but Roland doesn’t seem to mind – quite the opposite, in fact, requesting that they turn the same page back several times to see St. Nick get stuck partway down the chimney yet again before tumbling out with a comical thunk!, like a plunger losing its suction, spraying up soot and spilling his satchel of toys.
“One more time?” Roland asks with hopeful, pleading eyes, and Regina looks apologetically at St. Nick as he stops brushing flecks of ash from his beard and sags his shoulders resignedly at them.
The reindeer, in their restless trotting along the roof of the book, eventually discover that they can leap right off the edge of the cover and into Roland’s lap, cantering about and thoroughly distracting the boy for a while, leaving St. Nick to unpack his toys at his leisure.
He’s looking quite jolly, smoking up a storm with his pipe and helping himself to another chunk of cookie when Robin’s silhouette looms into focus overhead. His expression is rueful but knowing as he gazes down at his son, and surely enough, Regina glances at Roland to find him blinking blearily up at them both, looking a bit sleep-dazed as she sits him upright. The reindeer, dozing in random folds of his cloak, stir drowsily, ears twitching as they stretch out wobbly legs.
“No, not yet,” Roland protests when Regina signals a hand for the book to close and stow itself away, and it might have sounded halfway convincing if not for his poorly stifled yawn punctuating the end of it.
St. Nick gives Roland a wave of goodbye before corralling his reindeer back to their sleigh, and they’re about to take flight – hooves scraping over the parchment, kicking up the last bit of snow – when the covers fold closed, tucking them all out of sight.
Roland looks despondent until Regina taps him gently on the nose, promising to pick up where they’d left off tomorrow, and then she’s scooping him onto her hip as she stands.
“Thank you, for spending the evening with him,” Robin tells her, and it’s then that she notices the full ropes of garland twined in one hand, fragrant branches of pine festooned with her bells and fastened together with red satin bows. Burrowed amongst the needles are tiny pine cones she hadn’t seen them bring in, suspended in place by drizzles of wax that could only have come from a drawer in her study.
Behind him, Ruby and Belle are nowhere in sight, but the chairs they had occupied are overflowing in wreathy mounds of garland now, looking half-alive in the crackle of firelight, and Regina lets the memories wrap around her and tighten for a moment, the scents of spiced apple, warm laughter in the kitchen, hot cocoa dashed with cinnamon as the whipped cream sinks and melts away.
“He’s quite fond of your company,” Robin continues, and Regina’s gaze snaps back to his with what she hopes is an indifferent expression. “He has also wondered on several occasions why no one else can tell a story quite like His Majesty can.”
“They can’t,” says Roland, turning round solemn eyes on her, and she feels herself crack open with a smile at that.
Robin is delicately setting his whorls of garland onto the end table next to her, arms held out for his son as she passes him carefully over. Roland immediately tucks his head beneath Robin’s chin, face pressing into his neck with a deep, sleepy sigh, and Regina, feeling slightly chilled without that warmth bundled into her side, fights the instinct to cross her arms over her belly instead.
Robin catches her glancing toward the garland again, his smile going crooked with something like shyness as he asks her, “How do they look?”
“Passable,” she says stiffly, closer to the truth than she might have allowed had Roland not been curled up in his arms, blinking those heavy eyelashes at her.
“I confess I had help,” Robin explains needlessly, scratching a hand over the back of his head with a sheepish expression.
“I can see that.”
“Actually I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter,” he goes on, even managing to look halfway chagrined about it, and she wonders why he’s telling her this. She couldn’t possibly care any less who he consorts with in his spare time, but she would prefer he not insult her intelligence about it.
Not that she’d ever grant him the satisfaction by admitting such a thing out loud.
“I’m sure,” she replies, toneless.
He seems to be waiting for something else – something more – from her, watching her with those relentless blue eyes, his patience unfathomable when all she can do is try not to set herself or any other part of the room on fire.
Her gaze wanders pointedly away from him until he’s caught on, politely clearing his throat. “We’ll take our leave for the night, then.” He nods his head to her, careful not to jostle Roland awake with the movement. “Your Majesty.”
They’ve gone from the room by the time she looks up again, seeing nothing but empty doorway ahead, and she stands there a moment longer before her attention is drawn back to the mountain of pine and red ribbon beside her. Ignoring the feel of Snow’s too-meddlesome eyes on her back, she trails a finger over the soft bed of leaves, feeling their needle-like tips and wishing, inexplicably, for an entire forest of pine to open up out of the ground and swallow her, soothing, into darkness.
…
Regina doesn’t have time to dwell on the thief in the days that follow, the castle a bustling racket of last-minute things and an air of general disorder that tends to precede such a large-scale event.
The garland, on her part, already hangs across every inch of available surface, spun around banisters and draped across curtains and hearths, everything sprinkled with tiny twinkling lights that brighten from afar and then gutter out whenever somebody gets too close. The lights are particularly baffling to all parties involved – “But how can a flame be so small?” and “Where’d you manage to find a plug in this joint, sister?” – with the small exception of one, Roland’s simple but enthused “It’s magic!” putting everyone else’s questions to shame.
To her everlasting exasperation, Regina gets placed on lighting duty as a result, her scowling refusal met with an equal resistance from Snow.
“I can ask the Merry Men to put up some torches instead, that might look nice,” Snow suggests, with an alarming gleam in her eye. “Or—” she adopts a tone of innocence that Regina has never found remotely convincing “—maybe there’s time for them to get us a tree? I know you would have preferred not to—”
“I’ll take care of the lights,” Regina snips, earning a radiant smile from Snow that makes her feel as though she’s lost yet again. She’s already humored her enough by agreeing to this whole heinous affair; after all of Roland’s beaming at the prospect of “Christmas,” which Snow had most deviously planted into his head, Regina simply couldn’t find it in her heart to refuse.
So she’d gamely thrown up a few festive twigs here and there, but she’d drawn the line at a fifty-foot tree, and it grates on her still that Snow could be so oblivious as to not understand why. It simply feels wrong that Christmas should not only go on as planned but do so in such a grandiose fashion, when there will be no cookies to put out before bedtime, no gifts to uncover with a jubilant “Santa was here!” while bacon sizzles on the stove…
Regina is finishing up in the ballroom, lost to her thoughts as she sends the last of the candles floating toward the ceiling, its flame safely cradled in a thin orb of glass.
“That’s quite a sight to behold,” comes a low rumbling remark from below.
His presence had come entirely unannounced, and she’s so startled by it that she loses her footing on the ladder, slipping down and landing – most mortifyingly – into Robin’s arms with a small noise of surprise. They circle around her as he stagger-steps backward, bracing her fall with the front of his torso, and she feels cold and unusually warm all at once.
She shoves him away the moment her heels touch the floor, irritated that he should look so smug when it was his fault to begin with for disrupting her balance.
“Have you not seen a candle before?” She straightens her garments, brushing out barely-there wrinkles with an affronted look in his direction.
“I have,” he says, maddeningly, his gaze never straying from hers.
“Then I fail to see why you had such a need to make a fuss,” she tells him repressively, flipping her hair back over one shoulder and folding her arms across her chest, fingertips tapping out an impatient rhythm.
“You missed a bit there,” says Robin, entirely unfazed by her grievance with him, and before she can put a stop to it he’s moving forward to catch a stray lock by her ear with his thumb, brushing it carefully back.
He drops the offending hand casually down to his side the next instant, as though nothing out of the ordinary has just happened. He smiles at her, and she stares at him, unsure how she ought to be feeling about this sudden liberty he’s taken with her.
Regina looks him up and down as though he’s hidden the answer from her somehow. He’s just come from outdoors, she realizes; there’s a rosy nip of color to his cheeks, a faint chill still clinging to his clothes that she can feel from where she stands. He looks refreshed from his walk or whatever the hell he’d been up to out there, content and untroubled by all the commotion around them, and perhaps it’s that which has made him so bold.
God knows she could do with some fresh air herself right about now, away from this place with its cloying good cheer and its sparkling resolve to forget.
Robin shifts just a little, his other hand slipping back into his cloak with a studied nonchalance that can’t go unnoticed, and the seconds seem to slow into something interminable as she stares at the glossy spiked leaves in his hand, the winking red berries as he disappears them out of her sight.
Her vision tunnels black at the edges for a long, peculiar moment.
She thinks she might be furious with him.
She’s all too aware of the fact that this thief is – admittedly – not a half-terrible one; he’s pulled one stunt too many right under her nose for her to blame it on sheer luck or coincidence alone, and she knows that he could have plucked those leaves straight out of her hair and made it look halfway convincing, had he desired it.
That he should have wanted her to see this, his badly feigned stashing away of something meant entirely to provoke a reaction from her, has her bristling with a dark need for him to look foolish for once.
“Do you have big plans for that holly?” she inquires, tone mocking.
Much to her satisfaction, a genuine flush creeps up his neck, his gaze dropping away on an abashed sort of chuckle. “Not precisely, no. It was not what I’d originally had in mind.”
“I imagine not,” she says sneeringly, and the image of him arm-in-arm with Ruby and Belle presses its way into her mind unbidden, a dangle of mistletoe and a too-innocent Well what do we have here? as he smirks and they giggle, leaning in for a kiss.
Regina thins her lips together, wishing she could have been spared the unpleasantness of having to think up such thoughts. Where Robin must’ve gotten the impression that she could care in the slightest about his romantic entanglements is, quite frankly, a mystery to her.
“I suppose I’ll just have to keep trying, then,” he says lightly, with a playful sort of resignation that grates on her all over again.
She scoffs out a harsh-sounding laugh. “Good luck with that.”
Any last semblance of levity seems to withdraw from Robin’s features, something cautious taking its place. He peers carefully up at her, brows knitting together as though he’s puzzling over what could have gotten her riled up in this way.
“Will I see you at the ball this evening?” he wonders after a moment, his tone now one of polite curiosity, and she blinks at him, derailed by this new line of questioning.
“Regrettably, yes.” Her hands curl around her elbows, pulling them closer without any conscious thought for this sudden need to hold herself in.
She can’t read the look in his eyes as he asks her next, “And the odds of you favoring me with a dance?”
He’s stretched back up to his full height, but still she manages to look down her nose at him as she replies stonily, “I don’t know what would possibly compel me to do something like that.”
He nods his head to her. “I understand.”
There doesn’t seem to be anything left for him to say beyond that, and after another few heavy seconds of silence that sit strangely in Regina’s chest, he excuses himself with a final, courteous tilt of his chin.
She watches him, motionless, as he makes his way across the hall, pausing near the door when Leroy hollers his name and gestures for some assistance with a lopsided wreath that he can’t quite reach on his own. Robin’s face splits into a mischievous grin at that, and he taunts him with something good-natured that has Leroy throwing his head back, laughter all but roaring out of him as Robin kneels and pretends to offer a shoulder to spot him.
It feels cowardly, somehow, like running away by resorting to magic, but Robin and Leroy are still by the door, and – damn it – there’s Charming too, walking in now with a look like he might get ideas about coming over to make conversation with her.
Grabbing the flame from a torch as it bobbles by (“Hey!” says Happy in protest, before catching the razor-sharp edge in her eye and beating a hasty retreat), Regina pulls it to pieces with her fingertips until three dozen flickering lights are half-bursting out of her palms. She wraps them in their little glass orbs, and just as Charming has lifted his hand to her in greeting, she lets go, scattering them everywhere with a tinkling brightness that briefly shields her from view.
The air around her smokes purple, churning, and as the hall spins itself out of focus, she thinks she sees movement by the door, a flash of deep green and a head turning back, before she looks rigidly away.
…
As evening approaches, a dread she can’t place takes root in her belly, turning over and over with alarming intent until there's hardly room left for anything else.
“I shouldn't be the one reminding you to eat something,” Snow scolds her during their midday meal, piling a sizable mound of peas onto her plate. “There. Finish your vegetables, Regina.”
She might have thought to refuse her had Roland not been dragging his father toward them at that precise moment, coming to an energetic halt with the top of his head barely visible over the edge of their table.
Robin hangs behind with a perfectly bland expression while Roland grins a toothy grin, faces Regina and asks in a manner he’d clearly rehearsed, “Will you please save a dance for me today, My Majesty?”
There’s an amused little humming from Snow, and even Charming on the other side of her appears to be fighting a smile.
Regina glances up at Robin, unable to contain her surprise. He’s grimacing an apology to her, as if to say he hadn’t been the one to put his son up to this, but he needn’t have gone to the trouble of making that clear; considering the cold way she’d treated him earlier, she can’t imagine why he would want her anywhere near his child.
“Only if it’s all right with your father,” she turns back to Roland with a kind but firm voice.
Roland rounds on him in an instant, clasping his hands dramatically together and wheedling, “Please, Papa? Please?”
“Of course it’s all right, my boy,” says Robin, looking mildly taken aback that it’s even a point worth debating, and his eyes alight on Regina’s again with a bright, piercing blue she hadn’t prepared for, taking her in for a moment. His forehead creases, gaze going soft, and his lips part like he might have something more he wants to say before they’re sliding into a lopsided smile instead.
“Okay,” says Roland with a pleased air of finality, pulling Regina back together, and her eyes move away from Robin’s. Roland is looking very serious, informing her in a solemn voice, “Papa says vegetables have magic too, and they will make me tall and strong just like him someday.”
Robin clears his throat. “Perhaps we’ll let Her Majesty finish the rest of her meal in peace, yeah?”
Roland beams. “See you later, Regina!”
“I look forward to it,” she tells him, feeling Robin’s gaze on her again.
“Bye, Princess Snow,” Roland adds with a wave, proceeding down the table, “Bye Mr. Charming, bye Mr. Grumpy,” and then Robin’s nudging him gently along before they wind up saying a personal goodbye to everyone at court.
“Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree,” Snow murmurs slyly under her breath once they’ve headed back to their own table. She turns to side-eye Regina in a way that's not at all subtle, a knowing smile playing outrageously at the corners of her mouth.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Regina says shortly, pricking a single pea with her fork and raising it up to her lips. She takes a bored little nibble, pointedly reaching for her water glass next when Snow opens her mouth like this conversation is anything but over.
Charming comes to her unwitting rescue then, drawing Snow’s attention away with a query about caroling selections to go with dessert at the party (Regina bites down too hard on a pea at that, her teeth clacking painfully together).
They’re still in a heated debate over sing-alongs – “Is it really necessary to write out all of these lyrics?” and “They’ve been living in the woods for the last thirty years, David, of course they won’t know the words to ‘Carol of the Bells’” – when Regina slips quietly away from the table with an empty plate in her hand.
She takes the long way back to her bedchambers, avoiding the ballroom and all its festive reminders of what lies in store for the evening. Any lingering thoughts she’d entertained of skipping out on the ball altogether are rather pointless now that’s she promised Roland a dance, and the reality of it begins to settle like a deep ache in her bones, that Christmas is happening whether she likes it or not.
…
One dance. She’ll dance the one dance, and stay long enough to turn Robin down when he invariably tries to cut in.
That is, if he were anywhere to be found at the moment.
She’d seen him only briefly at dinner, glancing toward his corner of the banquet hall just in time to catch the Merry Men welcoming their two newest members, installing a rosy-cheeked Ruby next to Robin with Belle bouncing a joyful Roland up and down in her lap one bench over. They’d all clinked out a boisterous toast, goblets overflowing with the mulled apple cider that Granny had coerced Regina into whipping up last-minute when Leroy’s “special home brew” failed to pan out.
She’d picked at her roast quail, the butternut squash and the stuffed sweet potato, tightly smiling her way through conversation with Snow and Charming whenever they thought to pause in their murmuring sweet nothings to one another. She’d occupied herself by toying with the centerpieces, leafy red and white poinsettias that she painted gradients of pink with a bored little swirl of her fingertip. Her own goblet had sat untouched, irritation prickling her whenever her eyes fell to the sprig of holly someone had tied around its slender glass stem.
By the time Regina looked up again Robin and his party were already halfway relocated toward the ballroom, wielding a variety of instruments that she couldn’t recognize apart from Friar Tuck’s lute and Little John’s set of what looked to be matching mini-tambourines.
A concert of sorts is well underway when Snow and Charming eventually head into the ballroom themselves, Regina trailing begrudgingly in just behind them. The twinkling garland and the ceiling of candlelight have cast everything in a soft, hazy glow, the sharp scent of pine all around them.
A makeshift campfire sits in each corner, their flames childproofed with voluminous bubble-like shields that shimmer and bob upon contact. Small dessert tables have been set up nearby, each one manned by a dwarf in charge of distributing speared sticks of marshmallow for toasting over the fire.
“Regina, this looks amazing,” says Charming while Snow’s mouth drops wordlessly open, and it doesn’t feel quite like work this time when Regina graces them both with a smile.
She’s loitering by the refreshments when Roland comes to cash in on the dance that she owes him. She thumbs off a smearing of chocolate from his cheek as he chews on the last of his marshmallow, explaining to her in detail how perfectly roasty and brown it had gotten on the outside.
Little John, she’s noticed, has ambled up to the table while keeping an eye on the boy, and when she nods that she’s got him he salutes to her with one of his jangling tambourines, shuffling off to rejoin his band.
Once she’s gotten Roland suitably cleaned up, she lets him pull her by the hand to the middle of the floor, curtsying gamely when he nearly doubles himself over in a very grand bow. They’re surrounded by a blur of couples, dancing out the intricate steps to folk songs that Regina finds just as foreign as the rustic contraptions strumming them out.
Immune to the rush of movement around them, Roland tugs her gleefully about in spirited little spins, looking thrilled when she does a showy sort of half-crouched twirl beneath his arms. She’d forgone her usual leather and velvet specifically for this purpose, dressing instead in something soft and breathable that tumbles down in an ankle-length flourish.
“That’s a handsome dance partner you got there,” Ruby’s voice rings out, and there’s a sparkling swish of crimson as she whirls past them on Will Scarlet’s arm.
Regina is turning around on instinct, only half-aware of what’s she doing until she’s skimmed over the crowds and not found him. Belle is fairly easy to spot, currently being spun by another one of the Merry Men nearby, but their leader is conspicuously nowhere in sight, and that pit of dread flares up full-force as it occurs to Regina that she knows exactly what he must be doing out there.
She’s passed a blissfully wiped-out Roland back into Little John’s care, tended to the fire bubbles, and endured several awkward civilities with Snow’s dwarves in the process by the time Robin finally reappears.
He’s been in the woods again, just as she’d suspected, untying his cloak and draping it over one of the hooks by the door as Ruby and Belle shimmy over to greet him. He smiles at them, but it doesn’t touch his eyes in quite the same way as it normally does, something disheartened in it as he turns up empty palms at them.
There’s a collective swell of sympathy around him, Ruby touching his arm as Belle rubs a hand over his shoulder, and then Ruby is raising her goblet with a coyly arched eyebrow, standing on tiptoe and laughingly pressing a kiss to Robin’s cheek.
They’ll be making their way onto the dance floor soon enough, Regina thinks, shifting grimly back toward the refreshments with half a mind to rip the stupid holly from every last goblet and burn them all into crisps.
She’s endeavoring to curb her more violent impulses when she hears him, the sound of his voice alarmingly close all of a sudden, and she turns to see him approach with a full, easy smile for her.
“It appears that I’ve missed the big dance.”
She glances away. “Oh? I hadn’t noticed.”
He helps himself to a drink, and she stiffens when his arm brushes past hers for a moment. He leans his back against the table, resting his hand but a hair’s breadth from hers as he surveys the crowd and she continues to glare at the goblets in front of her.
When he speaks again the words come from low in his throat, pleasantly rough around the edges as he inclines his head toward her. “You look unspeakably lovely tonight, by the way.”
She touches a hand to her hair without thinking, feeling a traitorous warmth open up in her chest. She’d left it all down in waves for Roland, knowing how he likes to play with the ends whenever he can get close enough to reach, and she’s absurdly grateful for the way it curtains around her now, obscuring the flush in her cheeks from view.
“Well,” she recovers quickly, making a vaguely disdainful gesture at him, “you look…barely recognizable.”
Robin chuckles at that. “The Prince was kind enough to lend me some of his things.”
“‘Kind’ is one word for it.”
“You don’t approve?” He sounds amused.
“I see no need for costumes,” she tells him curtly. “All Hallows’ Day has already passed.”
It doesn’t quite land like the insult she’d intended it to be, Robin only “Ah”ing with that unshakeable smile of his, and she’s at a loss for what else to say. She tears her gaze away again, trying not to observe too closely how Charming’s navy-colored doublet folds flatteringly around Robin’s form, or how it brings out all that blue in his eyes when he looks at her the way he is now.
He twists toward the table, leaning into her ever so slightly to set his glass down, and she catches faint traces of Charming’s scented oils on his clothes, bergamot and some rich kind of spice that threatens to overpower her senses. When he straightens back around, however, he smells briefly like Robin again, and she simply breathes in all that fresh air and pine for a moment, almost forgetting herself as he bumps their shoulders together.
But then he’s gazing back out at the dance floor, and she doesn’t have to turn to know that the other girls can’t be far off, perhaps wondering themselves why he’s chosen to linger as long as he has with her when they’ve clearly been waiting for him.
Her fingers inch toward a goblet, letting the spike-tipped holly dig into the pad of her thumb.
The movement catches his eye, and there’s a playful lilt to his tone as he confesses to her, “I thought I may as well make some use of them, considering how spectacularly they failed me in other regards.”
The words are exploding from her before she can smooth out the anger in them. “You do realize that mistletoe doesn’t actually grow here, don’t you?”
There’s a pause as he absorbs the heat of her outburst, his voice perfectly even when he replies, “I hadn’t been aware of that, no.”
“Well now you are.” She rips the holly clean off its stem, crushing it into a fist. “So you can stop with your sad little attempts at wooing everything female in sight – it’s become rather tiring to watch, quite frankly.”
Robin is no longer smiling when she’s managed to summon another scathing look in his direction. He sounds oddly pained as he asks her, “Is that what you think this was about?”
“On the contrary,” she all but snarls at him, “I don’t make a habit of wasting my time thinking things about you and your…urges,” that last word spit out like it’s something unsavory to her, and Robin stares at her as though she’s grown two extra heads, his mouth opening in a sort of speechless disbelief before clenching shut.
“I’d presumed no such thing,” he says at last, his tone cooler than she’s ever heard it before, and it numbs something inside of her, everything turning to stone. “But thank you, for the clarification. You’ve made your thoughts more than apparent on the matter.”
Regina squares her shoulders at him, willing her tongue to unstick and scorn him some more, but she can’t seem to call up any of her earlier rage, not when he’s looking at her as though she’s someone he can hardly recognize either.
“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” Robin bows at her, all the unreserved warmth of his features drained into blankness as he rises and captures her gaze with his own. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”
She whirls back to the table, gripping blindly for those torn bits of holly and wishing, with a desperation she’s not sure she’s ready to understand, that she could un-see that empty look on his face as he turned and walked away from her.
…
She hasn’t made it far from the ballroom when she hears the soft padding of footfalls behind her, and something sprouts wings in her chest as she spins around to face him, an apology already half-formed on her lips.
“Hey,” says Snow, and Regina swallows it back, features hardening to hide the disappointment that must have been showing.
“Yes?” she asks, tone clipped.
“You’re leaving?”
“Your powers of observation really are nothing short of astounding.”
“Because in that case,” Snow carries on without even batting an eye, “I have something I wanted to give you, for tomorrow.” She shrugs when Regina blinks incredulously at her. “There was no Christmas tree to put it under, so…”
“Can you please be done bringing that up?” Regina’s biting tiredly out as Snow takes a step forward, pressing a cushiony bundle of fabric into her arms. “What is so important that it couldn’t wait until—”
Never, is what she’d been about to say, but the words drift into a bewildered silence as Regina untucks a corner, slowly folding it back.
A large, blanket-like square comes tumbling out of her hands, stretching nearly to the floor as she lifts it up by the edges. It’s patterned with wide stripes, red alternating with grey, the wool thick and terribly soft as Regina touches one side to her cheek, her mouth, the tip of her nose.
It smells like coming home.
“I thought it might be a good addition to storytime with Roland,” Snow is saying, her voice barely audible over the swelling ache in Regina’s chest, rising up to her ears and blurring out the corners of her vision. “Speaking of which…”
Regina is busily gathering the blanket back into her arms, trying to blink away that burning sensation in her eyes. “What?”
“I also wanted to ask if you were okay,” Snow tells her, in that tone of heavy gentleness Regina so usually loathes to hear out of her, though she finds she doesn’t have the heart to feel bothered by that at the moment.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I saw you and Robin talking, back there.”
Regina sees that once-molten blue, taking all the warmth with him as he turned his back to her, and she shifts the blanket a little closer, tightening her grip. “What about it?”
“I don’t think Roland was the only one pining for a dance with you.”
Regina shakes her head. “You must be confused.”
“I think we both know that’s not true,” Snow admonishes lightly, “and we both know a certain someone who would agree with me, if he were here.”
After a long, miserable pause that Regina makes a point not to fill, Snow sighs and concedes for the time being. “Anyway. Merry Christmas, Regina.” She squeezes her arm before turning to go.
Regina fingers the yarn work, tracing its loops and thinking of another life, another Christmas, where her heart is whole and it wouldn’t be wrong to hope for these things that Snow seems to believe should come so easily to her.
“I didn’t get you anything,” she hears herself saying.
Snow looks back at Regina, with a slow-spreading smile that makes her face glow. “Just think about what I said,” she offers, eyes too kind and too knowing at once. “That can be your gift to me.”
Regina continues to stand there long after she’s slipped out of sight down the hallway. She gently touches the blanket to her face again, her world a sea of red and grey for a moment before she folds it carefully back up in her arms.
…
It occurs to her that she has no earthly clue where Robin has even been staying these past many months in her castle. He and his men have laid claim to the lower quarters, she knows, those rooms that her servants had once occupied what feels like another lifetime ago. Beyond that, however, she’s sure she wouldn’t be able to tell any of the rooms apart, and it seems highly unlikely his men would’ve thought to label their doorways.
Robin had explained it to her once, when she questioned their choices, how they preferred the simplicity of these quarters – the welcome bareness of all this space without any of those additional luxuries he’s certain none of them would know quite what to do with anyway.
“Besides,” he’d leaned in with a smirk, “that way you needn’t worry about any of us helping ourselves to your things.”
(She’d never worried, but it seemed unwise to correct him when he was already so determined to show his amusement with her.)
Regina had insisted that he at least consider one of the upstairs chambers, with a terrace garden Roland could play in during the summertime, and a separate bath to afford them some privacy, which Robin had politely declined (“We are greatly indebted to you, Your Majesty; this is already more than we ever could have asked for”).
She’d renewed her offer of the upper floors when winter began to settle around the castle, pointing out their superior heating, but still he continued to refuse her – “It’s not so terrible down there,” he’d said, tone winking, “if you wanted to stop by and see for yourself some time” – and so here she stands now, helplessly glaring as a corridor of identically unmarked doorways looms into darkness ahead of her.
She’d waited for the sounds of the ball to dwindle before venturing back out of her own rooms – not for fear of being discovered by someone else on the way, not quite that, but of some truly distressing notion that she wouldn’t find him alone.
Still, the prospect of making door-to-door inquiries after Robin, particularly at this late an hour, is less than appealing to her. Not to mention the fact that all the things she needs him to hear have, inconveniently, eluded her as to how exactly she plans on saying them.
Regina takes a step forward, grimacing to hear how it echoes off the damply chilled walls. She loiters at each door, scrutinizing them as though some sign will appear if she stares hard enough.
She’s strongly considering the use of a quick locator spell when she nearly walks right into it – a little white spruce that comes barely up to her knee, tucked back against the wall beside an otherwise unremarkable doorway.
It’s a spindly thing with short, stunted limbs, sparsely covered in yellow-tipped needles – rescued, she thinks, from a winter it would not have likely survived – but there’s a charm to it too that Regina couldn’t deny if she tried. A knot of small gifts lies crammed underneath it, brown paper packages with To Roland From— scrawled onto their sides. A menagerie of small wooden animals has taken up residence between the branches, whittled out lions and foxes prowling about while barn owls and doves soar around them.
And there, at the top of the tree where a star should have been, someone has thought to place a single shoot of holly.
She knocks on the door before she can talk herself out of it.
There’s a pause, her heart thundering madly, and then she hears a shuffling sound from within. The door cracks open, spilling out a dim candlelit glow into the gloom of the hallway.
“Regina?”
Robin is suddenly standing before her, his everything silhouetted in light, and she has to blink several times before her eyes can fully adjust to him there. He looks mildly astonished but not, she thinks, displeased to see her, shoulders loosening as he lets the door swing back a bit further.
He’s changed out of his ballroom attire into a simple cotton tunic, its neckline opening into a deep vee down his chest, shirt cuffs rucked carelessly up his forearms. He doesn’t smell all wrong anymore, though she can still see Charming’s clothes hanging from a rack just inside, and she’s sorely tempted to dispose of them in a way that may or may not involve fire.
There’s a hint of movement deeper into the room, and she spots a Roland-sized lump in the shadows, slumbering soundly away on one of the bed pallets.
“I’m sorry,” says Regina, feeling appropriately dismayed, “Roland’s asleep, and I – I shouldn’t have come.”
“No, it’s quite all right,” Robin cuts in immediately, and he slips through the doorway, gently latching it closed behind him. His forehead wrinkles with concern while he looks her over, as though he can’t fathom why she would turn up like this short of some life-threatening event, and, well, she supposes she can’t fault him for that. “Is something the matter?”
She shakes her head, unsure how to answer that question.
Robin frowns. “You’re trembling,” he states, and his hands flex ever so slightly down by his sides, a strained sort of movement before going still again, as though he’d been about to reach for her.
“It is a little chilly in here,” she tells him, feeling a peculiar leap in her chest when Robin’s eyes crinkle at her.
“Now where have I heard that one before?” he teases her lightly, crossing his arms and leaning his weight into the door.
She rolls her eyes, glancing away before she can smile back at him. “I wasn’t wrong.”
“I think that’s debatable,” he counters easily, dimples deepening when she huffs out a small exasperated noise.
“Well,” she says in a quiet, stilted voice, “I suppose not all of us can be warm-blooded like you.”
Robin seems perturbed by her admission, brows drawing together as that smile of his flickers out. “That’s not how I see things, Regina.” He waits for her to look at him again, voice low and firm as he tells her, “Not from where I’m standing.”
Regina can only stare at him, overwhelmed for a moment, at a loss for how she can even respond. She’d come to apologize, but here he is with all of his kindness instead, his warmth and his nature to be uncommonly gentle with her, as though she deserves nothing less.
She stands rooted there, gazing up at him with something like shyness and something like shame, and then she gives the tiniest shake of her head again when words continue to fail her.
Robin seems to read her struggle without comment, clearing his throat to casually relieve all the silence. “So,” he says, something mischievous in his tone as he uncrosses his arms to gesture toward her. “Are you going to tell me what you have planned for that holly you’ve stolen off of my tree?”
He’s biting back another smile – he seems to have some never-ending supply of those, with her – as she blinks down at the holly in her hands. “Yes, actually.” The words have to scrape their way out, and she swallows before going on. “I wanted you to have this.”
She holds out her hand to him, and the fine-pointed leaves begin to round out their edges, their glossiness fading into a fuzzy-soft texture. The holly berries lose their bright red hue, a pale yellow-green coloring their surfaces instead.
“Mistletoe,” Regina explains to him needlessly, everything inside of her giving a lurch that’s not altogether unpleasant when Robin stares back at her, wondering.
She presses her hand into the space between them, indicating for him to take it, but still he doesn’t move, only gazing down at the plant again before fixing her with those blue, depthless eyes.
Her throat is dry as she tells him, “Now you can go and kiss whomever you like.”
Robin tilts his head interestedly at her. “Anyone?”
She’s finding it increasingly difficult to read him.
“Yes,” she says, feeling rigid all over, “I believe that’s the idea.”
The air has thinned, and she can’t seem to quite catch her breath as he takes a step closer to her. He guides his palm beneath her hand, gently cradling there, bringing his thumb around to touch one of the mistletoe leaves.
“You know,” he says then, his tone unbearably light, “I’m not actually sure how this is supposed to work.”
Regina glances up at him, too flustered to pass it off as something else, but then the look in his eyes is making it hard for her to feel anything but warm, so warm, and so terribly endless.
His voice is slightly hoarse as he tells her, “You may have to show me.”
She’s swaying forward without any memory of losing her balance, her head more than dizzy when he places a hand at the small of her back to steady her.
“It’s not meant to be difficult,” she hears herself say, half-scowling, half-breathless already, her hands now caught rather uselessly against his chest to keep from leaning any further into him. “You stand under it and—”
“Like this?” he husks, and he shifts over her until the bridge of his nose is just grazing her eyebrow.
“Not…no, not exactly,” she says, barely above a whisper, and her eyes flutter closed.
She’s not sure who moves first, but his mouth is on hers the next moment, a tender press of heat that seems to last only seconds, pulling away from her much too soon. He drops his forehead to hers, and she feels his shoulders rise and fall with a ragged exhale before he’s gathering her back to him, as though unable to keep from kissing her again.
He captures their lips more firmly together, holding her steady as he kisses and kisses her, deep feverish things that feel like a promise to carry her away. The ache of their burn shudders through her, and she opens her mouth to his with a sigh, losing her breath and perhaps another small shard of her heart to him each time he draws back and looks at her like he may never let go.
He drags his fingers through her hair, cupping the side of her neck in his palm and angling her closer. His mouth slants over hers, moving with a scorching intensity as their tongues slide together and tangle. His thumb sweeps with an exquisite tenderness over her jawline, her cheek, and the way that he’s holding her, the intimacy of him wanting to know her like this, is almost more than she can bear.
They’re both more than winded by the time they part again, lips hovering back together as the sharpness in their breathing starts to even out into something not quite so dizzyingly shallow. Robin nuzzles his nose into her cheek with a quiet little groan, his stubble scratching over her skin as he ghosts another kiss to the shell of her ear.
Her hands tighten their grip on his tunic collar, where the sprig of mistletoe has been all but crushed into one of them, drooping and half-forgotten.
“I think we’d better try that once more, don’t you?” Robin murmurs, his voice a bit raw, and she shivers into him. “To make sure it’s still working properly.”
“I think it worked just fine,” she says, not without her own touch of eye-rolling playfulness. He grins a bit naughtily at her, and the swooping sensation that tugs at her belly in answer makes her feel impossibly young.
“Do you, now?” he wants to know, with a boyish sort of smugness that somehow makes him all the more desirable to her.
Her heels rise off the floor as he pulls her back into him, hands spreading heat up and down her spine until she can’t help but shiver again. The lower half of his body is pressed invitingly against hers, but still she braces her arms to his chest, not willing – not ready – to let herself have all of him, all of this, in the way that she so dangerously wants.
She’s wandered too boldly to the edge of some precipice, daring to know what happiness feels like, but she can’t bring herself to think on how she will pay for this later. Not yet.
Not now.
Robin’s smiling down at her with a sky full of blue in his eyes, looking very much like he wants to kiss her some more – and oh how she would let him – but as she brushes her mouth against his, there’s a distant scuffling behind the door, followed by a sluggish yet plaintive “Papa?” that makes them freeze together, chagrined.
Neither of them seem willing to move away first, but then Roland is calling out sleepily again, and Robin concedes with a sag of his shoulders, stealing one last kiss before releasing her from him.
He rests against the doorjamb, taking a minute simply to soak up the sight of her, and Regina looks away when she can no longer contain her smile from him, feeling warm in more ways than one as Robin gives the door a reluctant nudge open.
“Good night, Regina.”
“Thief,” she returns, and his teeth dig enticingly into his lower lip before he’s slipping back inside, carefully shutting the door behind him.
She’s turning to go when the tree gives her pause. It looks a little more melancholy now without that wink of holly up top, and she tilts her head, considering what else it might be missing.
She breaks off a needle of spruce when she’s finished, lifting it gingerly up to her nose and letting the scent of the forest accompany her all the way back to her rooms.
…
Breakfast in the dining hall the following morning is – as to be expected – an elaborate retelling of the prior evening’s events, how Little John misplaced a tambourine bell, and how Leroy had the misfortune of finding it, after nearly cracking a tooth on a marshmallow.
How one very elated Roland had woken to find a “real life star” on top of his tree, not to mention the gift a “Mr. St. Nick” must have left him on his chimney travels, as it was the only one that hadn’t been labeled, and how he couldn’t wait to show his new book of stories to Regina.
And then Robin, looking entirely too handsome for his own good, gazing warmly at her over a cup of freshly brewed coffee, a world of unspoken things in his eyes meant only for her to know.
She must be gazing just as distractedly back, because Ruby is suddenly sauntering by with a brassy-loud “Well, it’s about damn time” and a look of sly comprehension at Belle.
Regina senses Snow straighten at that, but before she can get any ideas about prying for more – already raising a hand with a soft “Shush!” at an oblivious Charming beside her – Regina raises her own mug and takes a studious sip, feigning ignorance while Snow beams aggressively in her direction.
She keeps her eyes trained on her plate after that, though her mind wanders and wanders to join him again through the rest of the meal. She excuses herself from the table when she can no longer stand to hold back any longer, feeling Robin’s gaze swing around to follow her careful departure out of the hall.
She’s chosen to linger by a stairwell when he comes in search of her, pretending to fuss with a bit of garland that’s come undone from the banister.
“Your Majesty.”
Regina smiles without turning, idly plucking up a loose pine cone and melting its wax with a fingertip before pressing it back into place. “Robin.”
She doesn’t hear him approach, but the new warmth that surrounds her is unmistakably his, and it would be such a waste, really, not to bask in it for a short while.
“Can I help you?” she inquires, all lofty innocence as she turns to address him.
His attention has caught near the side of her head, brow furrowing slightly as he murmurs to her, “You’ve got a bit of something right…” He lifts his hand with a May I? expression before reaching just past the line of her vision, fingertips grazing her hair. “There,” he breathes after a moment, and a familiar spray of round, green-berried leaves blooms into view as he pulls his hand away.
Regina blinks accusingly at him, feeling quite nettled at how thoroughly she’d let herself walk into this. “You—you stole that from me!”
“Begging your pardon,” says Robin, in the tone of one deeply wounded, “but how could I have stolen something that was intended for me as a gift?”
Her lips thin disapprovingly at him, but she’s charmed in spite of herself, that treacherous thing in her chest taking flight as he snakes an arm around her waist and tugs her against him, looking triumphant.
Still she refuses to fully soften for him until he’s pointedly directing her gaze to that plant, and then she can no longer not kiss him, it seems, when he’s smiling like this, just for her.
She’ll blame it on the mistletoe later, she thinks, relaxing into him with a content little sound as he touches his lips back to hers.
She's read it over a hundred times, knows every single word, can even see his dimpled grin biting down on a inked quill as he marked the soft curled paper with the secrets in his heart. It's been the one thing she goes to know when the world is cratering in around her, a dark and lonely hug that embraces her tighter each day.
A silly little rhyming poem he'd written she doesn't know when, but her fingertips have roamed every stroke of ink every day since she found it, and somehow it makes her feel like he's with her again.
My Dearest Regina,
There are a few things I want you to know
It's the way you've made my heart glow.
For a long time I was nothing but a lonely thief
Searching for something through my grief.
We've both lost a love far too young
A wound so deep it bled and stung.
But then one day amongst my despair
You were suddenly there, a silent answered prayer.
To be honest, we both know it wasn't love at first sight
At times it felt like all we did was fight.
You saved my son, without a second thought
And my heart began to unravel from its concrete hardened knot
Steady as the days did pass
Stories of the Evil Queen, I felt my doubt begin to shatter like glass
This once terrifying woman I began to understand
Was sad and soft, even with every reprimand.
I saw the pain that lingered beneath the mask
Soothing your torn soul, it became my only task.
Slowly and with much tedious persistence
The walls around you began to fall with little resistance.
A memory curse stole our first kiss
And the moment I saw you again, I knew something was amiss
Bold and Audacious, the only words I could find
That smile you bit back still resonates in my mind
I thought of kissing you amongst the whiskey and rye
But you ran and I was left wondering why
I didn't understand what I had done to scare you so
Of our destined life I'd yet to know
You trusted your heart to a common thief like me
The bright light beneath the darkness I could see
But I let you down, and thought I lost you in the process
But you walked into my camp and kissed me nonetheless
The feeling of your lips on mine, I'm not sure I can explain
Though as my soulmate, I hope you know it all the same
Hand in hand, I vowed I'd return it to it's rightful place
And you wrapped your arms around me in the most perfect embrace
Since that night in your office by the fire
My heart knew of loving you, I'd never tire
Strong, resilient, stunning, a mother fierce and true
My admiration for you only grew
I almost said it, whispered it into your ear
Something I'd been dying to have you hear
But life isn't always easy nor kind
And I was left with a choice which rendered me blind
I know I made mistakes and treated you unfair
Until the moment I realized being without you I could no longer bear
I begged and promised that I would be a better man
To never again make you feel like you were less than
I pleaded for you to see that you'd always been my first choice
How desperately I needed you, I simply had to voice
To the gods above I will forever be in their debt
For you forgave and saw that where my heart lay was truly set
I said I chose you, that day by the lake
And I meant every word, your heart I'd never again break
But circumstance gave me an impossible decision
At the townline, my soul was ripped from my chest with brutal precision
I did the one thing I promised I'd never do
I will never be able to apologize enough for what I put you through
And yet after everything you came back to be my savior
Forgave me, even as I felt like a failure
You kissed me and promised it would be alright
We just had to hold onto each other tight
Through portals and realms we've gone together
Even when hope seemed lost, I knew any storm we could weather
I was so proud seeing you on those Camelot stairs
A vision so stunning, no one else even compares
I remember thinking as we danced and spun about
I was in love with you and there was not a shred of doubt
I'm sorry I scared you stepping in front of that knife
But sacrificing my life for yours, I'd never think twice
I swear to you now, as I sit here writing
That to protect you, I will never stop fighting
I imagine our future, together old and grey
My love for you, stronger each day
Perhaps we will have more children, a house amongst the trees
It matters not to me, but wherever you go, take me please
I promise when the time comes for this life to end
This love between us, for all eternity it will transcend.
And at the end, I'll think back to our start
Forever grateful you let a thief steal your heart
I love you Regina Mills, my one and only soulmate
To be the one to call you mine, it's a wonderful fate.
Yours forever and always,
Robin.
He'd left it tucked away in a box in her closet. A secret gift she hadn't found until after. And for as heart melting the words were on paper, all she did was cry til there were no tears left to spill. A year she's been without him. It seems to span a decade thought it's only been three hundred and twelve days.
It seems to sting a little more with the tide of holiday around the corner. Seeing those around her arm in arm, blushing under mistletoe, oblivious to their surroundings. It brings out love in people, Christmas. Makes it completely okay to be over the top affectionate and cheery to everyone and anyone. But when you have no one to share those moments with, well, it becomes much harder to find the joy in sparkling lights and late night mugs of spiked eggnog.
Being alone with only her thoughts and his poem, a sudden compulsion to give him something back, to tell him everything she hadn't gotten the chance too became overwhelming. So she turned over the parchment with his words, and wrote him back, knowing he'd never get the opportunity to read it, but all the same, she had to do it.
Dear Robin,
I loved the sound of your voice
Soothing the demons inside me without a choice.
I loved how you saw the light within
The way you'd let my hair down with a grin.
I loved that you never backed down
With every sharp remark thrown your way when I wore that unwanted crown.
I loved that even when I was scared
You were the only one who dared.
I loved feeling your hands caress
The way you looked at me in that dress.
I loved how our hands entwined
That spark I never thought I'd find.
I loved how your heart was so pure
How you promised that anything we would endure.
I loved laying beside you at night
At the end of the day when everything finally felt right.
I loved to hear your every sigh
My most favorite, that twinkle in your eye.
I loved how your faith in me never did waver
And in the end, you were my heart's saviour.
I loved the nights in my office by the fire
The need to kiss you again and again, completely dire.
I loved the feeling of your lips on mine
I felt it that night, our souls align.
I loved to bask myself in everything that is you
And feel your heart, beating so true.
I loved the mornings when your arms wrapped around me tighter
Somehow you made me feel so much lighter.
I loved that day you said you chose me
A happily ever after, I could finally see.
I loved watching you be a father to our boys
All the laughter, a beautiful sweet noise.
I loved the ways you'd manage to sneak in a kiss
That feeling, it was my heart's true bliss.
I loved the silly things you'd say just to see me smile
Calming my nerves when I was feeling hostile.
I loved the way you always had hope
Even in the worst time you taught me how to cope.
But now you're gone
Not beside me with the rising dawn.
I miss you more than you'll ever know
To those around me, this pain inside I dare not show.
Everyday I'll put on a brave face
But this hole inside me, it's taking up too much space.
I don't want to give in
I am trying to not let this loneliness win.
But how do I live a life without you
Wishing you were beside me with everything I do.
I pray to the heavens above
That one day we'll be together again my love.
We never said it, but I hope you knew
I have always loved you.
Yours forever and always,
Regina.
She lays the rolled piece of scripture down beside his headstone, presses a lonely kiss to the frozen granite, whispers that she loves him once more and walks away, wiping a single tear fallen onto her cheek.
She misses him.
And silently in the middle of the night for the past year, she's asked for him to come back to her. Promising that if just this one time a miracle could happen, she'd never ask for anything ever again.
But Santa Claus and Christmas miracles are for children who are still too naive and filled with wonder. It's not for the broken hearted, ravaged souls that walk the earth knowing damn well that life isn't filled with answered prayers, but silence in the darkest of times.
She expects nothing to come of her tearful pleading, she knows better than too believe in that sort of magic.
The papers rustle in the chilled wind, snow flakes falling, dampening it's parchment edges till the ink begins to bleed from one word to the next.
What she failed to realize when writing the words on the same piece of paper as her soulmate did, was the small detail he'd left out about how he came to acquire it. Not that it looks like anything but parchment, not to the unknowing eye at least. Even Robin himself did not know the speck of magic the simple piece of paper held, nor the ink he was given as a gift alongside it.
He'd smiled, thanked the man and walked out of his shop without a second thought and headed straight to their log hidden within the forest, where he spent the next hour sitting in the sun thinking about everything he wanted to tell her.
If he'd only known what magic words could truly possess or the power of true love and a touch of help from a completely unprecedented person. The Dark One knew what it was like to lose love, over and over again until it ate away at a person's sanity. And for all the fear and terror Rumplestiltskin once reigned with, somewhere deep in his heart, beneath all the evil was a softness he'd never admit too.
He took Regina down into the darkness with him, spun his web around her purity and scorned her heart till it turned as black as his. He doesn't regret it. Not really anyway. He'd never tell Regina either, but a part of him will always want to protect her. And not from demons and monsters, but from the pain of loss.
It's why he is here, watching her walk away from the cemetery, shoulders hunched and burgundy scarf billowing in the air. Picking up the piece of parchment, he dusts it off, doesn't read it for he already knows what is inside, but tucks it into his coat pocket.
He is no childhood caricature who brings presents down a chimney, but perhaps this one time, he can bring someone a miracle. And now, he finally has the last ingredient he needs to make it come true.
What can he say, he is rather fond of a good Christmas love story after all.
Regina Mills and Robin Locksley have been best friends since birth, fostered by their parents connection and friendship with each other. Catch a glimpse into their lives through the years as they celebrate Christmas together and their love for one another grows.
A/N: Thank you to the @onceuponanadvent Team for allowing me to make this gift. I hope you enjoy these two as much as I've loved writing them.
{ ffn } { ao3 }
Henry Mills and Helen Locksley have been friends since high school. Her family had graciously hosted him on his semester abroad in London his junior year. When the two of them had hit it off, his own parents had returned the favor the following summer. For years they’d communicated through letters and phone calls, keeping up with each other’s lives and new adventures. Good old fashioned pen pals for what felt like forever.
It’s rare to find a true friendship like theirs. One that can stand the test of time and distance, but that’s what the two of them have always had. From the moment they’d met it had been easy, effortless. Two platonic halves.
So when he’d discovered that Helen had married her college sweetheart and was moving to the states for a job opportunity her husband couldn’t turn down, one that just so happened to be in the city he’d grown up in, the one she’d spent three months exploring and falling in love with all those moons ago, Henry had been overjoyed.
When she’d also informed him a month after her arrival that they were expecting a new addition to their family, he’d been thrilled for her. Henry Mills could not imagine a better mother in the world than the one Helen Locksley would make. When their son, Robin, arrived just seven months later one hot summer day, he’d been an adorable little boy.
He and Cora had been expecting by then as well. A fact that Henry was over the moon about. He could imagine nothing more rewarding than having a child to love and spoil. One of life’s greatest joys.
Beyond that, their children would be able to grow up together. A twist of fate that would prove to be more than either of them ever could have hoped for. The timing could not have been more perfect. But then life is funny that way.
Helen and Henry couldn’t help themselves from making all sorts of plans. Play dates between Robin and the little girl he was expecting. Trips to the zoo and the park. Holiday traditions. Family vacations between the six of them. The possibilities were endless.
It had started with Thanksgiving and Henry inviting Helen and Richard over to introduce them to the American custom. Turkey and stuffing and a little baby boy that Henry kept glued to his chest for a majority of the day, much to his mother’s amusement. Thankfully, Cora put up no objections to his friendship with the other woman. In fact, she gets along with his friend’s husband well enough (shockingly, as the other man is rather rambunctious, but they bond over politics and a love for antiques and leave Henry and Helen to themselves often enough) that it’s common they trade off conversations while the four of them are together.
The Locksleys had been all set to return the gesture come Christmas. Unfortunately, in the last trimester of pregnancy, Cora had been unwell, ordered to bed rest and they’d missed the chance to celebrate the holiday together.
When Regina was born one stormy night in the middle of winter some months later, she immediately and utterly became their whole world.
The following Christmas had proven to be poor timing once more when Richard and Helen made a trip home to England to show off little Robin to their relatives, and Cora’s family insisted they travel up to Maine to spend the holiday with them to see their granddaughter.
So another year of weekly playdates and afternoons strolling through the park pass them by. And in that time Henry and Helen grow even closer than ever before, that comradery and friendship extending to each of their spouses and children as well. The months had passed while Regina and Robin had grown cuter and sweeter by the day.
This year, though, they get to spend Christmas as the odd family they’ve become. It’s interesting to be certain, with a toddler and a crawling infant to keep track of. Even as Robin tries to pull all the ornaments from the tree and Henry has to constantly keep Regina from eating the pine needles, there’s laughter heard throughout the house.
Robin’s old enough now to get excited about what’s going on too, even if he doesn’t comprehend everything. He understands enough to giggle merrily over the presents under the tree, to let Helen help him tear tiny strips of the wrapping paper off one by one until he unveils his new toy. When he turns and does the same for Regina, as she swats at the present in front of her from Henry’s lap on the floor, helping her out, it warms all of their hearts. Even at two, he’s so good at taking care of her.
There’s a sense of rightness to the entire affair that they all feel in kind. A calm sort of chaos that befits the spirit of the holiday. None of them can imagine celebrating this special time of year any other way.
And so begins a tradition that will last for decades to come.
~ ~ ~
When she is seven years old, the Locksleys spend the holiday at their house. It’s become a custom, alternating hosting. One of them does Christmas, the other New Years, and the following year it switches. Has been so since nearly those first few Christmases together.
The evening starts as any other. Helen, Richard, and Robin arrive at promptly six o’clock, and the adults send the children off to the playroom to occupy themselves while Regina’s parents entertain their guests and her father finishes up preparing dinner. Mother doesn’t cook. Would have the entire meal catered were it not for the fact that Henry insists on making the holiday special, starting with a good, strong, home cooked meal.
“Let’s play hide and seek!” Regina requests, turning on Robin once they’re alone.
He nods in agreement but demands, “Okay, but only if I get to seek.”
“You always want to seek,” Regina whines, though she’s quite adept at hiding. One time it had taken Robin nearly an hour to find her, hidden in the crawl space beneath the staircase. Mother had been furious at the dirt on her clothing, but it had been well worth it to best Robin at a game he believes himself to be superior at.
Robin shrugs, holds up his hands in mock innocence and declares, with all the authority his eight year old self can muster, “That’s because I’m better at it.”
That does the trick, has young Regina putting her back up, determination littering her tone as she agrees to his terms and then orders him to count to fifty and not to cheat before she’s darting off. It takes her fifteen of those precious seconds to decide on the ideal hiding location. She can’t hide anywhere that she might get her red silk dress dirty. Mother would kill her. But there are plenty of other adequate places in their house, and as one of them pops into her head, she’s gone.
The minutes tick by, for what feels like an eternity from where Regina is hidden in the linen closet off of the laundry room. This is the worst part. The waiting. Wondering when Robin is going to find her. But the longer it takes, the more it means that she’s won this round, so she waits.
Finally, the door of the closet swings open, and it’s not Robin on the other side but her father. “Daddy!” Regina exclaims in surprise.
He chuckles, shakes his head and she grins up at him a bit sheepishly. “Found you. Dinner is ready and as fun as it would be to continue to watch Robin tear apart the house looking for you, I think it best we don’t keep everyone waiting, don’t you?”
Regina agrees, happily trailing after him. When they enter the dining room to find everyone already seated, she slips into her seat beside Robin and can’t quite help leaning toward him to whisper so only he can hear her, “I win.”
Robin rolls his eyes at her taunt and digs into his mashed potatoes, but Regina’s triumphant smile doesn’t fade all through dinner.
. . .
They’re allowed one present each on Christmas Eve. That’s the rule. No matter how tempting the pile of presents beneath the glittering tree appears. Robin tears into his, scattering shreds of paper in a heap around him as he unveils a shiny, silver Talkboy. Regina opens the prettily gold and red wrapped package, setting aside the elaborate bow and unpeeling the paper carefully. The brunette Cabbage Patch doll with big blue eyes and a pretty dress is exactly what she’d wanted, and her face lights up as her gaze lifts to find her father’s, who’s grinning eagerly at her.
“Do you like it, sweetheart?”
“I love it! Thank you!” Her eyes move to her mother, watching her with less enthusiasm, but there’s a smile on the woman’s face that isn’t always there. “Thank you, Mother.”
“You’re welcome,” she replies, a hint of warmth in her tone even as she says, “your father picked it out.”
That isn’t a surprise. Daddy had known how badly she’d wished for this exact gift, had listened to her beg for it for the better part of the last month after she’d seen the doll when they’d been out one Saturday afternoon. Just the two of them.
But she loves it all the same.
“Well, you kids best be off to bed.” Helen’s sweet voice rings through the room a short while later as Henry and Richard move to gather up the discarded wrapping paper. Robin starts to protest, wanting longer to play with his new toy, but she simply insists, “They’ll be plenty of time to play tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to risk Santa flying right over the house.”
The weather’s picked up in the time they’ve been here and there are fat, wet flurries falling rapidly from the sky, coating the entire outside world in a sheet of white. Their parents had decided it would be better if the Locksleys simply spent the night rather than risk the drive home in this weather.
Cora tsks at the comment, but one sharp look from Henry keeps her from saying anything else on the matter. The moment goes completely unnoticed by Robin, utterly distracted by his Talkboy, fiddling with the nobs. It doesn’t escape Regina’s attention, however, and as she quietly gathers up her doll, cradling it to her body, and dutifully lets her mother kiss her forehead goodnight before she heads toward her room, she says nothing.
. . .
It’s late. Surely past midnight when Regina sneaks her way into the guest room Robin is staying in, tiptoeing quietly down the hallway so as not to even chance disturbing her mother. Daddy wouldn’t care. Would just send her back to bed with a soft admonishment that Santa can’t come if she’s not asleep.
But Regina’s not so sure he’s coming at all, the fear having weighed on her for most of the night, a lingering fear in the back of her mind, as she and Robin had been playing, the adults chatting and laughing while leaving them to their own devices. Mother’s words from a few days ago repeating themselves over and over again in her mind. She hadn’t brought it up earlier, not wanting to sound childish and risk her mother’s anger. Or to upset Daddy. And she knows if he had known what Cora had told her he’d be upset.
No, instead, Regina had listened to Robin’s mother comment and speculate on whether he’d been a good enough boy to warrant a visit from the old man, a playful grin on her lips the entire time while they’d been at dinner. All the while her confusion and distrust warring inside her while she’d eaten her cranberry sauce.
She’d remained silent, her mother’s disapproving glare during the conversation enough to keep Regina quiet about the big, burly man in the red suit. But now, in the darkest hour of the night, with the clock ticking down to morning, Regina is unable to keep the worry from itching at her.
So here she is.
He’s sleeping, tucked under his comforter with only that messy mop of hair peeking through as he’s facing the wall. Probably exactly as Helen had left him when she’d put him to bed and wished him goodnight and happy dreams. Just as Daddy had done with her. Regina closes the door at her back with a near inaudible click and then uses the sliver of moonlight slanting across the room to pad softly over to Robin’s bed. She reaches out a single finger to poke his shoulder gently. “Robin,” Regina hisses, stabbing her finger a bit more firmly into his body until she hears a soft grunt and he groans and burrows deeper into his pillow.
With a huff, Regina repeats the motion, murmuring again, “Roooobin, wake up.”
The boy grumbles a bit, but finally rolls himself over to his other side, blinking his eyes open and frowning at her. “Regina? What are you doing here?” His voice is scratchy with sleep and she almost feels bad for waking him up, for not staying in her own room where she belongs.
But this is Robin, and if there’s anyone that she trusts enough to spill her doubts and concerns to it’s him. Even though he’s a boy and can be gross and weird sometimes, he’s still her best friend. One she’s known all her life and he’s promised to always protect her, hasn’t he? She can be honest with him.
Regina bites her bottom lip, rocking uncomfortably on the balls of her feet as she asks, “Can I climb in with you?”
His brow draws together in confusion, but there must be something in her tone, because Robin doesn’t hesitate, scoots closer to the opposite end of the bed and makes room for her on the mattress. Regina climbs in immediately, letting the cocooning warmth of the down comforter and Robin’s radiating body heat ease her anxiety some.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, more awake now than he’d been a moment ago.
It’s another minute before Regina musters up her courage to ask quietly, “Do you think Santa is really coming?”
“Huh?” She can just barely make out the bewilderment in his bright blue eyes in the dim lighting, and suddenly Regina feels quite foolish. Maybe this was a mistake. Perhaps she should have just stayed in her room and waited until morning. Robin’s voice isn’t accusatory in the slightest however when he continues with, “Why would you say that?”
“Mommy says he isn’t real,” Regina whispers breathily, as if it won’t be true if she doesn’t say the words loudly enough.
His scoff echoes through the room as he shakes his head and wiggles a bit closer to her, as if he knows she needs his reassurance. “Well that’s just silly. Of course he’s real!” Robin insists.
Still, Regina wonders. “How do you know?” she asks.
“Because he always comes. It’s Christmas magic. And we’ve both been good this year.” He pauses at that, considering, before a sheepish smirk quirks at the corners of his lips and he amends, “Well, good enough.” It makes Regina laugh, thinking of all the mischief she has let him talk her into in the last three hundred and sixty five days.
And she supposes that’s true. After all, she’s never woken up on a Christmas morning to an empty tree, at least several presents labeled from Santa. Plus, Daddy had helped her write out a list to the mystical man and they’d gone and mailed it in plenty of time for it to arrive at the North Pole. Surely, he wouldn’t have taken the time for that if he weren’t real. “But why would she lie?” Regina asks in the midst of her musings.
“Your mom is weird sometimes,” Robin shrugs, head propped up on his elbow as he looks down at her.
Giggling at that, Regina nods in agreement and with that simple statement, she feels infinitely better. Robin easing her worries. Of course Santa is real. She was stupid to ever doubt it. “Thanks, Robin,” she murmurs, smiling up at him.
He grins down at her, tickles her side and makes her gasp in surprise, one of his favorite methods of tormenting her, even if it’s all in good fun. “Sure,” he replies before his tone turns serious, “but we gotta get to sleep now or he really won’t show up. I don’t know about you, but I’m counting on him for that Nintendo.”
Regina nods, a yawn escaping her before she can help it. It seems the late hour has finally caught up to her and with her mind no longer racing with concerns, her body feels heavy with fatigue. “Can I just stay here for awhile?”
“Yeah,” Robin answers, settling down again and maneuvering himself back into a comfortable position on his back.
The both of them are asleep in a matter of minutes.
. . .
She’s still snuggled in the guest bedroom with Robin when the birdsong of morning begins, the misty light of predawn illuminating the room through the window. They’d drifted a bit closer in slumber and her nose is tucked against his shoulder, his hand laying over hers in the space between them on the mattress.
Consciousness comes with Robin’s gentle prodding, followed by a hissed whisper of her name. “Regina, wake up. It’s morning!” When his words bring no response from her, Robin shakes her a bit harder, “Come on, get up. Let’s go see what Santa brought!”
That does it, has Regina’s eyes opening immediately as she blurrily looks up at Robin’s beaming face. For a brief second, her stomach swoops. A lingering fear from the previous night. Surely Robin’s right though and the treasured tradition of Santa Claus still lives.
Regina can practically feel Robin buzzing with anticipation. A palpable energy in the early morning atmosphere and she smiles at him, finding his enthusiasm infectious. “Okay, let’s go,” she answers.
The pair of them race out of the guest room, barrelling down the steps and rounding the bend toward the living room where their gigantic evergreen is located. Robin’s ahead of her, height and the benefit of a year of growth over her winning out. He whoops eagerly even as Regina hesitates at the doorway, but Robin turns back to her, reaching out a hand encouragingly. It calms her nerves, and Regina places her palm in his open one as he tugs her into the room laughing.
And there it is. The pile of presents they’d left under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree yesterday evening now doubled. Positively spilling out into the room as she scurries to take a closer look, and her face lights up as she reads one of the tags.
To: Regina
Love: Santa
Her eyes meet Robin’s, one of his presents in his hand as he tells her cheekily, “Told you so.”
She rolls her eyes and rips off the ribbon on the package she’s holding to toss it at him. Then the two of them are digging in. Gasping and aweing as their parents make their way less hurriedly downstairs for the morning's festivities.
~ ~ ~
The annual Mills-Locksley holiday bash is in full swing by eight o’clock on December 24th.
Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree playing over the sound system, tinsel and garland tastefully hung over the mantle and around the banister, people laughing and milling about. Merriment dripping from every inch of the house.
As she and Robin had gotten older, their families had extended their tradition of spending the holiday together to their friends, family, and coworkers. It’s turned into one of the highlights of the year for many of the people they know.
Regina’s watching her father chatting with one of his employees across the room, smiling at how happy he is this time of year, when a familiar voice murmurs into her ear from behind.
“Your mother may be crazy, but I have to give her credit, she knows how to throw a damn good party.” Mal comments, glass of eggnog in hand. Likely the spiked, adult version if Regina knows her friend any. Not that she can blame her when her friends parents had bailed on her for the holiday. Even if she had played it off, Regina’s glad the blonde’s able to spend the evening with all of them instead of alone at home.
The observation makes Regina snicker into her warm, spiced apple cider, doing her best to hide her grin even as she twists her head to eye Mal with an amused expression. “That she does. Wouldn’t want anyone else to show her up now would we?”
“Oh no, not at all. That would be a travesty, dear.” Mal answers in an over dramatic tone of voice, weirdly sounding exactly like Cora would. The two of them laugh over it for another minute before Mal pauses, that predatory glint in her eye as she mutters, “Mmmmm. Hottie at two o’clock.” Her gaze focused just beyond Regina’s shoulder.
The brunette turns around, eager to see who her friend could possibly mean. She knows most everyone at this party after all and hasn’t a clue who she could be referring to. When her eyes land on her best friend, Regina’s oldest friend, surprise flickers through her.
Robin? Sure, he’s attractive. Has grown into himself quite nicely, she supposes. Survived the awkward, gangly years of early puberty (though she has the visual evidence should she ever need it as leverage against him in the future). But it’s difficult to think of someone you see on a nearly day to day basis warranting the look that Mal is giving him.
Or it should be. Were it not for the dueling sensations of attraction and disbelief that churn in her gut as he makes his way toward them, Mal hissing excitedly in her ear.
Suddenly it hits her. When had Robin gone from her dorky playmate to the hot captain of the soccer team that has her closest girlfriend salivating and smiling flirtily at him across the room? She’s not really thought of it before this moment. At least not much. It’s not that she’s ever found him repulsive looking, not even when they’d been younger. Regina has always considered him to be cute. But he’s her friend. The goofy boy who’d chased her around the backyard and tickled her until she hadn’t been able to breathe. The one who’d been playing pranks on her for years and who’d stood up to every person that’s ever teased her in her life.
Listening to Mal talk about how she wouldn’t mind unwrapping him for Christmas, however, Regina realizes it’s like one day he’d gone from being Robin, to the guy all the girls whispered about as he walked the hallways. Now that she thinks about it, she can easily name five girls in her class who would give their right arm to be able to go out on a date with him. Her closest girlfriend being one of them.
Even more confusing than that, is that Regina’s heart has started to flutter in her chest when he’s around, though she’s buried it under the ruse of familiarity. It’s making its presence known now though as her stomach swoops and swirls when he gives her that trademark dimpled grin of his from twenty paces away. It’s weird. She doesn’t know what to do about it in the slightest.
Particularly this year, when they’ve finally graduated to being able to spend Christmas with their parents and their friends. Neither of them are being ushered upstairs quickly and quietly after dinner. It’s been years since the pair of them have snuck peeks at the presents under the tree and stuck their heads together wondering if Santa will bring them their heart’s desire.
They’ve caught his attention now, and Regina watches with a sudden, unfamiliar sense of panic (so foreign to how she’s ever felt around him before) as Robin weaves his way through the room toward them. “Hey, guys. Enjoying the party?”
“The eggnog is delicious,” Mal answers him, lifting her glass and winking at him flirtily, making Robin laugh knowingly.
“I bet. Regina’s dad always makes it strong. I’ve never been a fan myself.”
“That’s a shame,” Mal replies, taking another sip.
Robin merely shrugs, eyes Regina’s cup and then snags it out of her hand, smirking at her protest of Hey! That’s mine. Get your own! “Mmmmm, I like yours better. It’s got the secret ingredient.” Regina rolls her eyes, giving him a gentle shove before she snatches her glass back possessively.
“Hands off.”
“Spoilsport.”
Well, at least that hasn’t changed, Regina thinks to herself as she and Robin banter. Deep down, he’s still the annoying pest who’s been like a big brother to her for years. Her best friend. The person she’d trust with all her secrets without hesitation. Whatever odd feelings she may or may not be having toward him and his sudden good looks are probably just her hormones going wonky. They don’t change the foundation of their friendship.
Robin shifts the conversation then, attention focused on Regina as he asks, “So whatcha get me?”
“Who says I got you anything?” She sasses back, as Robin tosses an arm around her shoulder and ribs her some more. All very normal. Perhaps that brief moment of uncertainty toward him had just been a fluke.
He sticks around for another ten minutes, teasing both of them and commenting on how Cora had outdone herself this year before he spots a buddy with his parents across the room. “Catch you two later,” Robin calls over his shoulder as he bids them goodbye.
. . .
Regina doesn’t see him again for another hour after that. She’s lost Mal somewhere, is standing in the doorway between the family room and the kitchen as she contemplates going to hunt her down or opting for another cup of cider when Robin finds her.
“Hello, my friend. Can I interest you in splitting one of these delicious snickerdoodle cookies? Mum made them.”
He’s holding out half of the torn sweet to her, and Regina chuckles, accepting the offered treat. “Your mom’s cookies are the best.”
“I know,” Robin grins, leaning back against the frame of the doorway and chewing his own portion of baked dough. “I’ve had four already.”
Before Regina has a chance to admonish him, her dad is calling over to the pair of them from a few paces away, standing with Robin’s mother and father. “Well what do we have here?” His voice garners both Regina and Robin’s attention and then their eyes turn upward, each of their gazes lifting simultaneously, as he gestures above their heads.
Mistletoe. Of course.
For a moment they both stand there, bewildered with the implication. Which is ridiculous. They’ve known each other for fifteen years. It’s not like they’ve never been affectionate in that time. Even during the inevitable cooties phase Robin had always been sweet to her.
But they’ve never kissed.
And no matter what way you cut it, even an innocent kiss for show beneath the mistletoe (with their parents watching, no less, how racy could it get?) it feels like a big deal. Like some step that might turn their easy friendship into something weird. She will not think about those butterflies that had jumped into her stomach when Mal had noticed him earlier, how parts of her have started to see him differently, whether she acknowledges or ignores those feelings. No, she will not.
She’s never kissed anyone, in fact.
An uncomfortable mixture of panic and excitement bubbles up within Regina at the prospect of her first kiss. Nerves skitter just beneath her skin, like a buzzing that tickles her flesh as her dark brown eyes stare up at Robin’s clear blue. She can’t read him. Something that’s rarely happened in all their years of knowing each other. He seems just as uncertain about what they should do as Regina does though and for that she is grateful.
“Oh, just kiss the girl and get it over with,” Richard calls, more than a little into the eggnog at this point in the evening and even with the gentle nudge that Helen elbows him with, the adults in the room are all chuckling.
The audience doesn’t help the awkwardness that has suddenly descended upon them. There’s a tension in the air between them and neither of them have any clue what to do about it.
Robin is the one that makes the first move, finally breaking the stalemate with a slow step toward her. “What do you say, Regina? It’s Christmas after all, don’t want to mess with tradition right?” There’s a dopey grin on his face, one that screams teenager and male, as she nods her consent, one that has his dimples winking and the familiarity of the expression is enough to have her feeling comfortable again.
That is until he bends his head and angles his mouth over hers.
His lips are warm, pressing firmly against hers and a spark zings through her entire body, starting from where their mouths are joined. There’s a bit of light stubble littering his chin. She’s been teasing him about his attempts to grow his slowly emerging facial hair out for weeks, but the way it scratches against her skin is surprisingly pleasant.
Parting his mouth ever so slightly, Regina catches the faintest hint of cinnamon and sugar, remnants of the cookies he’d devoured earlier, and has to choke back a quiet groan that ripples up in her throat. It’s odd. New. But also wonderful and she does her best to mirror his actions as the seconds drag on.
He keeps the kiss perfectly chaste. Entirely appropriate for two teenagers beneath the mistletoe while their parents look on. Even as Robin’s hand settles on her hip while the other cups her cheek gently, the pad of his thumb brushing over the apple of her cheek. Just when she thinks she might combust from the onslaught of foreign feelings, Robin pulls away.
Perhaps if she were older, more knowledgeable, she might recognize the signs of inexperience from him. The blundering edges to the kiss and the slight hesitation in his movements, how their noses clumsily bump against one another.
But for Regina, it is perfect. More than she ever imagined for her first kiss and the very fact that it had come from Robin, her best friend, blows her away. She feels her face flush as he stares down at her, those familiar cobalt blues now several shades darker, sporting a hint of something she doesn’t recognize, and Regina bites her bottom lip before her eyes flicker back to their audience.
Henry and Richard are chortling with each other, but Helen is eyeing them curiously, a rather knowing, motherly look in her eye and Regina’s embarrassment over the entire matter rises tenfold. What is happening to her?
Clearing his throat, Robin takes a step back from her, smiling sheepishly in that adorable way of his. “Right, well—” The dimples are smiling in his face as his voice trails off and Regina feels a blush rise to her cheeks quite unexpectedly.
Just then she spots Mal emerging from the bathroom down the hallway and quickly excuses herself, desperate for the offered escape from whatever awkwardness had just ensued and it’s aftermath.
Robin’s gaze follows her until she and the blonde disappear up the steps.
. . .
It’s still on his mind as he wraps his scarf around his neck, folds his arms into his wool coat and moves to take the pile of gifts from his mother’s arms. Neither he nor Regina had spoken about their spontaneous kiss beneath the mistletoe for the rest of the evening. All through the exchange of presents and last dregs of the party, they had avoided the topic.
Not that he really wants to bring it up.
After all, it had been weird. Kissing his best friend. Awkward and odd.
Marvelous.
It’s that singular adjective that has been gnawing at Robin. He’d liked it. Had enjoyed feeling Regina’s lips beneath his own and the way her hip had felt beneath his hand. He’d had to stop himself from deepening it further. From running his fingers into her long, dark locks and pulling her body flush against his with the hand he’d had at her hip. Not when they’d been in full view of their parents, none of the three of them even bothering to pretend not to be watching them.
Even so, he’s never thought about her in that way before. There are plenty of lasses to keep him otherwise occupied. One kiss with Regina isn’t going to change that. Besides, they’re friends. Always have been. Always will be. Robin would never, in a million years, do anything to potentially ruin the precious bond they’ve had since infancy. She’s too important to him for that.
Surely it was merely a fluke. A by product of the holiday. Regina is his oldest friend, nothing more.
Consequently, he pretends as if everything is fine. Nudges her playfully with his shoulder when she wraps an arm around him to wish him goodnight as his arms are laden with packages. Even when she pops up on her toes and pecks a quick kiss to his cheek, Robin acts completely normal. Wishes Henry and Cora a Merry Christmas and follows his parents out into the light snowfall.
On the short ride home, he determines it must have been something about the holiday. Christmas magic in the air, or the shot of whiskey he’d nicked, to have made him question everything he’s known for the last fifteen years of his life.
Nothing’s changed.
~ ~ ~
Christmas is one of his favorite times of year. Even moreso since he’d left for college four years ago. Not that Robin would ever openly admit to it, but he misses his mom and his dad. A few of his high school buddies he only has the opportunity to catch up with for the few short weeks he’s home between semesters. And he misses his best friend.
Not seeing Regina every day had been the biggest adjustment for Robin to make after graduation. No more hanging out after school, grabbing an extra coffee on his way in during the morning, or spending Saturdays marathoning movies in his den. He’d gotten used to it. For the most part. Has had a few years of practice at this point, and they’d found ways to stay in touch, to keep that bond sturdy, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t look forward to having quality time with her during winter break also.
It’s been months since he’s seen her. With the two of them off at separate colleges and busy with coursework and friends, expanding their academic and life knowledge. But they still text and call each other regularly, moan about their professors and the endless lectures and papers they’re forced to suffer. However, it’s not the same. Robin supposes that’s just the nature of growing up though.
In fact, he’s been back a week and they still haven’t managed to line up their schedules. So when Christmas Eve arrives and he and his parents head over to the Mills’ as they always do, Robin is wrought with anticipation to see Regina.
Henry answers the door, a wide, easy smile on his face as he greets them and ushers them inside out of the frigid air. “Merry Christmas! Come in, come in.” He turns his attention to Robin when they’ve shelled out of their coats and pulls him into a big bear hug that makes him grin. This man is as much of a father to him as his own and it just wouldn’t be the holidays without his never ending cheer. “Look at you!” Henry tells him, laying his hands on both of Robin’s shoulders as he studies him. “You’ve turned into a strapping young man. Hope school’s still going well for you.”
“It is,” Robin tells him. Just a few more months and he’ll be finished. He’s already started job hunting, has applied for a few summer internships around the country. As his parents chat with Henry for a few minutes, Robin does his best not to shift impatiently. His attention is clearly elsewhere nonetheless, anxiously seeking out sounds of Regina, and despite his efforts, Henry notices with a sly smirk.
“Well, come on, everyone’s in the living room around the fire. It’s too cold this year for anything else.” Henry informs them and the trio follows him deeper into the house. When they step across the threshold, however, Robin is taken aback.
Cora sits in her elegant, high back Fauteuil chair as she usually does. An antique that neither he nor Regina had ever been allowed to touch when they’d been children. That’s not what throws him, however. No, that honor comes from the sight of Regina nestled beside a dark haired man on the rug in front of the fireplace beside the tree. He has an arm slung around her shoulders and she’s leaning into his side, smiling up at him over something he’s said.
Robin’s never seen her look at anyone that way, with that unmistakable twinkle of love and affection. Infatuation, he thinks. Not her boyfriend in high school, not that Graham Hunt had ever been worthy of her, nor the dude she’d briefly dated in her freshman year.
“Look who’s finally arrived!” Henry announces as he takes his place on the couch, Helen following him and settling in next to him as Richard moves to sit in the chair opposite Regina’s mother.
“Robin!” Regina exclaims, shifting her attention from the mysterious stranger and setting those dark chocolate eyes on him.
She’s detangling herself from his hold and bolting across the room, throwing her arms around him before he knows it. The move knocks Robin back a step but his arms come to encircle her tiny waist instinctively, holding her body to his as he grins and tucks his nose into her hair for a second. This is familiar. The comfort of home he’d been so anxious to have. “Hey, kid. Long time no see.”
Her laughter echoes in his ear even as she pulls back and scrunches her nose at the term, just as he’d expected it to, but smiles at him. “Back at you, stranger.” Regina’s head whips around to look at the man still seated on the floor and then back to Robin, grabbing his hand as she adds, “Come meet Daniel.”
Right. Daniel. Her boyfriend.
Robin should have realized. Who else would Regina be cozied up with? She’d mentioned him repeatedly over the last few months, since he’d charmed her outside of their eighteenth century art history course, if he recalls correctly. Or at least, that’s how Regina had described the encounter to him. But Robin hadn’t thought much over it.
Certainly had not expected her to bring the bloke home for Christmas. That’s not something she would do lightly. And the knowledge, coupled with the look he’d noted in her gaze earlier makes him realize that she must be serious about this one.
“Robin, Daniel. Daniel, Robin.” Regina introduces with a beaming smile and takes her place on the rug beside him once more.
He shakes the hand the other man offers, a bit of a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes as he says, “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise. Regina’s told me a lot about you and how you two grew up together.” Well, at least there’s that, Robin thinks darkly as he chooses to take the remaining seat open on the couch. He sits beside his mother who pats his knee affectionately and smiles at him before turning back to continue her conversation with Henry.
The evening passes as it usually does. Henry and Cora had decided to go for a smaller affair this year, just their two families. Like the old days. All through dinner, Robin watches Regina and the way she interacts with Daniel. Flirty smiles and hooded looks beneath her lashes. As dessert is served, Daniel leans back in his chair, lays an arm over the back of Regina’s and Robin watches as she places a hand on his thigh and leans back into his touch.
He doesn’t know why it bothers him so, only that it does.
. . .
Everyone shuffles their way back into the living room after the meal at their own pace, stuffed and brimming now that they’ve gorged themselves on the product of Henry’s delicious culinary skills. Helen stays in the kitchen to help Henry clean up the dishes as Cora insists on showing Richard a new painting she’d acquired for the den, Daniel expressing an interest in seeing it as well and following them both. Robin makes his way back to the couch, slouching into the comfortable cushions and overly pleased when Regina plops down beside him, dropping her head to his shoulder briefly and staring into the flames.
“I’m so full. Daddy’s gonna have to skip the cheesy potato casserole next year or I’ll be a balloon.”
Robin’s shoulders shake in amusement as he angles his head down to look at her, catching the slight upturn of her lips. “You’d deprive me of my favorite dish? I wait all year for him to make that,” Robin affronts as she shifts to sit a bit straighter, laughing at him.
“Fine, I’ll let my figure suffer. But only for you.” Regina teases him, grinning. Her expression morphs and she darts her gaze from Robin’s face to over her shoulder and draws her legs up beneath her, knees bumping against his thigh as she turns to face him. “So,” she begins, suddenly serious and curious as she asks, “what do you think of Daniel? You didn’t say much to him while we were eating.”
The abrupt shift in topic sours Robin’s mood marginally. What does she want him to say? The guy seems nice enough, treats Regina well, respectfully, from what he’s seen and she deserves that. Someone that makes her happy and makes her laugh. Whatever odd feelings of resentment that have been lurking beneath the surface since he’d arrived this evening toward the man don’t really matter. Not in regards to Regina’s happiness.
However, he can’t quite bring himself to gush over the guy, instead answers, “Well, I don’t really know him, but he seems alright, and you’re parents like him. I’ve never seen Cora engage with anyone that much other than dad or Henry.”
Regina frowns mildly, a small wrinkle forming between her eyebrows as she responds, “Yeah, which is great, but I was hoping that you two would hit it off.” Moving to prop her elbow on the back of the sofa, Regina drops her head against her fist, surveying Robin as she tells him, “He’s important to me, and you’re my best friend. I want you two to get along.”
There’s so much innocent sincerity in her tone that Robin instantly feels guilty. He’s not really given the guy a chance. That’s unfair. To her and to Daniel. Especially if he really does mean that much to her. Though it’s hard for Robin to think about Regina in a serious relationship, he supposes that it was bound to happen. That it’s good for her to have someone she can count on when he’s not around.
Maybe that’s why he’d been so resentful of the guy all night. Robin doesn’t want to lose his best friend. It’s ridiculous to think he would. They’ve twenty odd years of friendship under their belt, weathered childhood and adolescence together, are navigating their way into adulthood, and have still managed to stay closer than ever. There’s no reason at all to believe that any of that will change.
The least he can do is try.
Regina’s waiting for him to respond and Robin shakes off his mental musings, smiles at her and tells her exactly what she wants to hear. “You’re right. I’m sure he’s great, I’ll do better about trying to get to know him. I promise.” He digs a finger into her side and Regina jumps expectedly, causes Robin to laugh as he adds, “Gotta make sure he’s worthy of my favorite person.”
“Thank you,” she beams, that bubbly energy that she always has at Christmas coming back into her body as her attention shifts and she eyes the gifts under the tree. They’ll start exchanging some of them in a little while. The ones they’d bought for Helen and Richard and vice versa.
Robin doesn’t miss anything though and he grins at her and asks, “Want to open your present now?”
She starts to hesitate, denial on the tip of her tongue, before she swallows it back, glances behind her again and the laughter they can hear coming from their parents in the kitchen and admits quietly, conspiratorily, like they’re back to being children and shaking the boxes beneath the tree to try and figure out what they held, “Yes.”
He chuckles, rises off the couch and retrieves the tiny silver wrapped box that holds his gift to her this year, handing it over as he takes his place beside her again. Regina pulls the thin red ribbon instantly, working a finger beneath the edge of the paper as she grins at Robin.
When she pulls the lid off the box inside, revealing the beautiful wire wrapped pendant made of rich, turquoise sea glass, she gasps and lifts the necklace out of it’s bed of velvet. “Oh, Robin, it’s beautiful.” Her dark eyes meet his and she looks so stunning and touched, his heart squeezes painfully in his chest for a moment.
“I found it in a little shop on campus. It reminded me of that summer we were eleven and we took that trip to the beach. How you and I spent hours hunting through the sand looking for stones like it because you wanted to find them all.” Her eyes have gone a bit misty as memories of that vacation flicker through both of their minds, how much fun they’d had. “Anyway, I thought you would like it.”
Regina’s smile widens as she tells him, “I love it. Thank you, Robin,” and leans forward to hook her arm around his neck, pulling him into a sideways hug. His own arm lifts and wraps around her back, holding her close and enjoying the embrace for a minute, happy she’d liked it so much. “Help me put it on!” Regina exclaims when they finally let each other go, twisting so her back is facing him and sweeping her hair up off her neck. Robin dutifully obliges, hooks the jewelry around her neck and then grins when she turns back around to show it off to him. “How does it look?”
“Lovely,” Robin answers. A silent, Just like you, whispering across his mind.
Henry and Helen come through the doorway then, each of them smiling at the sight of their children and oohing and awing over the necklace when Regina jumps up from the couch to show it off.
The rest of the group comes into the living room a few minutes later, and as Robin notes the way Daniel’s eyes instantly find Regina, a joyous expression lighting up his face, Robin is reminded of his promise to her. Might as well start now.
“Daniel,” Robin calls, garnering the other man’s attention. “How about I show you how to pull a proper Christmas cracker. That hat’s drooping a bit.”
He laughs, agrees jokingly, “Sure, it’s gotta be better than that thing you’ve got on your head.” Then he and Robin are making their way back into the kitchen, ribbing each other, and he just catches a glimpse of Regina grinning at the two of them.
Whatever he’s feeling, any doubts he has toward the man and his relationship with Regina, Robin will push aside. Because Regina is his best friend, one of the most important people in his life and he’d do anything for her. And this is what she wants. What’s important to her. That’s all that matters.
~ ~ ~
A low bluesy collection of Christmas carols plays on the speaker in the background, fire crackling and bright, multicolor twinkle lights winking on the tree. The scent of pine and cinnamon mixes with crisp peppermint and the windows are lightly frosted from the chill outside. Easy conversation, light laughter, grinning faces.
The perfect, cozy Christmas. Just like every other year.
Except it’s not.
They’ve expanded their count by one, the Locksleys openly welcoming the woman Robin’s been seeing for nearly eight months now into their home for the holiday, sharing their rituals, embracing her wholeheartedly.
She likes Marian. She does. It’s just that she doesn’t seem good enough for Robin.
Sure, the woman appears to be perfect. Rich, caramel colored skin and long, wavy locks. A kind smile and laugh that sounds like it should belong to some Disney princess. Not to mention she’s smart. Has a masters degree in social work and is working toward her PhD. The woman spends the majority of her time helping families and children in need. Honestly, she’s a total catch.
And Regina will give her credit for the fact that she makes Robin happy. She hasn’t seen him laugh or smile so much since they were carefree children, nary a worry in the world. For that alone, she’s given Marian a chance. Wants to give her one still, but there’s something about her that doesn’t add up for Regina.
She can’t picture her and Robin spending their life together. Not for the long haul. And there’s been talk of that. Of engagements and marriage, of children. Never from Robin. He hasn’t discussed any of that with her, bizarre considering how close they are if it’s really something he truly wants, but she knows Helen is hoping for it, wants grandbabies to spoil. All of them are getting older, moving to new phases of their lives. It’s not something she can blame the woman for. Regina had overheard her telling Henry only yesterday that if they keep it up at the rate they’re going, she could be a grandmother within just a few short years.
Perhaps that’s what’s soured her mood this Christmas Eve.
She’s sitting in the living room, nursing her third glass of merlot and listening to her mother talk about the architecture of the new community center, but the majority of her attention is focused on the couple tucked away together in the chair across the room. Marian sits on Robin’s lap, engaging Helen in conversation over the recipe for her snickerdoodles (Robin’s favorite) while he smiles on, absently rubbing his fingers up and down her back.
They make a lovely picture. With the fire burning beside them and the tree glittering in the corner of the room behind them, Henry and Richard in the doorway discussing something Regina can’t quite make out. It’s all a perfect image of a happy family during the holidays.
Suddenly, she feels lonely. Misses Daniel and the loss of what she’d hoped to have for their future. Evenings exactly like this one where he would have been the one nestled into her side, stroking a hand up and down her thigh or swinging his arm around her shoulders.
It’s been years since they’d gone their separate ways. He’d gotten a job across the country and Regina had wanted to remain where they were, to continue her education. In the end, they hadn’t been able to make it work, and it had broken her heart. But she’s long since over it, hasn’t thought about him that way in years now and the errant thought takes her by surprise.
Excusing herself from Cora’s company, Regina quietly makes her way into the kitchen. They’re at the Locksley’s this year and she’s as familiar with this room as she is with her own parent’s kitchen. Heads directly toward the cabinet to the left of the sink and reaches for a glass, turning to the tap and pouring a large glass of water. Maybe the wine’s gone to her head and brought on this unwelcome sense of melancholy.
Regina’s downed half the glass when she hears familiar footfalls behind her.
“What’s wrong?” Robin asks settling himself on the barstool opposite her at the counter.
Doing her best to be cheerful, Regina answers him with a confused crinkle between her brow, a tilt to her head. “Nothing. Everything’s great. Why would you think otherwise?”
Unfortunately for her, Robin’s not buying it, simply gives her a stern, “Regina. I know you too well for that. What’s bothering you?”
She lets out a weary sigh. So much for keeping anything from him. Not that she’s ever been able to do that, even when she’s really trying. Robin’s always been able to read her like an open book. It’s one of the things that’s made their friendship so strong, one of the reasons it’s lasted as long as it has over the years. “It’s nothing. I promise. Just feeling a little blue. You should go back in with Marian and your family.”
“They’re your family, too,” Robin counters, rising to his feet and rounding the island to stand beside her. “And we can’t have you feeling that way, not today.” He lays his hands on each of her shoulders and turns her to face him, expression serious as he says, “Where’s that Christmas spirit? I want smiles and drunken carols. Don’t make me get dad to start up a round of A Holly Jolly Christmas. And if you’ve been a very good girl, Santa might let you open your gift from me early.”
The ridiculousness of that last statement does the trick, causes the corners of her lips to twitch and eventually form into a full smile as she laughs at him. Memories of their time as kids, and whispered fears in the dark of night soothed by the man before her, come rushing back to her.
“I’m afraid I’ve been quite naughty this year, I may have fallen out of Santa’s good graces.”
Robin grins, wiggles his eyebrows at her and his dimples are adorably lined on his face. “Have you now? Regina Mills,” he pauses dramatically, impishly, “have you been off having illicit adventures and not telling me about them? How am I supposed to have any fun if you don’t invite me along?”
It works. Robin’s tricked a full fledged smile out of her as she shakes her head at him and some of the tension that had abruptly crawled beneath her skin eases. She’s not done anything in the last few months he doesn’t already know about. Even as they’ve gotten older, the two of them still carve out time for one another. Sure, they’re both busy with work and other friends, the trials of adulthood, but they have their weekly lunch dates at Granny’s Dinner and always chat throughout the week. They keep each other up to date on the going ons of their lives.
Their friendship is too important to the both of them to let it fall by the wayside of life’s chaos.
“Seriously, though,” Robin says, tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and runs his fingers down her jaw, an instinctive shiver coursing down her spine that Regina has to fight against. “I’ll not have you sad on Christmas. And just because Marian’s here doesn’t mean I don’t have time for you if you need to talk. You know that.”
Regina lets out a soft breath of air. She does know that. And the knowledge acts as a balm to the aching onslaught of loneliness that had overcome her. It’s been the same their whole lives and nothing could be more comforting to her right now. No matter what or who comes or goes from their lives, she’ll always have Robin.
“I do. Thank you,” she mutters sincerely, and nothing else need be said between them. Robin simply smiles, nods and then reaches out a hand to tug on one of hers, dragging her the few steps needed so that he can hug his arms around her.
For a few minutes they’re wrapped up in each other, the comforting embrace of a friend to a friend, and Regina allows herself a moment to tuck her face into Robin’s chest. She just barely reaches over the top of his shoulder and her head fits perfectly beneath his chin as he squeezes her. It’s exactly what she’d needed.
Helen chooses that moment to pop her head into the kitchen, leaning around the entrance way, “You kids alright in here?” She hesitates at the sight of them and the two quickly let go of one another. It’s silly, really. They’d been doing nothing wrong, but Regina feels like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar as those clear blue eyes study them with a peculiar expression.
“Yeah, everything’s fine, Mum. We’ll be back in a minute.”
The older woman nods, turns back around, and Regina nearly laughs at the absurdity of it all. She’s being ridiculous and Robin has a girlfriend waiting for him. Giving him a gentle shove, Regina tells him, “You go on. I’m fine now. Just gonna get another drink, then I’ll be back in.” Her voice turns teasing when she adds, “And I expect that present waiting for me when I get there.”
Chuckling, Robin agrees, walking backward out of the room as he informs her, “Santa’s elves already left it beneath the tree.”
. . .
The rest of the evening passes normally.
It’s not long before Regina, Henry, and Cora find themselves bidding everyone goodbye around midnight. Hugs and kisses, promises to see them if not in the next few days then for New Years Eve. Everyone wishes each other a Merry Christmas and then the three of them are headed home.
Regina’s apartment is only a short half hour drive from her parent’s house, but it’s always easier for her to stay with them during the holidays rather than return to her own place. Allows for them to wake up in the morning and exchange gifts in their pajamas, Henry cooking them all breakfast and then spending the day curled up on the couch watching the classic Christmas movies, just like when she’d been little. A habit Cora has never been able to break them of even when she insists upon having a proper, formal holiday by the time the evening rolls around.
However, she’s still a little restless hours after her parents have gone to bed, and she’s no longer a child. So Regina’s snuck downstairs, is rummaging through the tin of sweets Robin’s mother had sent home with them when the kitchen light flickers on and she jumps, her father’s amused chuckle just managing to calm her racing heart. “Daddy! You startled me.” She laughs, biting her bottom lip guiltily.
“Sneaking cookies, I see.”
“Maybe,” Regina shrugs, narrows her eyes at him for a second and questions, “What are you doing down here?”
Henry smirks, pads quietly over to the table and takes the seat adjacent to her, nabbing a chocolate chip from the pile on the plate and informing her, “Same as you.”
Her laughter is soft and indulgent. She is her father’s daughter after all. Rising to walk to the refrigerator, Regina goes about pouring each of them a glass of milk. Might as well have a proper midnight snack as it seems neither of them can sleep.
She’s just returning to the table, setting down the glass when Henry comments, “Helen mentioned she found you with Robin in the kitchen earlier, that it looked like you guys were having a serious moment. Everything alright with you two?”
He says it casually, but there’s a hint of something beneath the surface, some inflection to the question that Regina can’t quite decipher. Settling in again, Regina replies, “It’s fine. He just came to check on me. Nothing important.” Henry hums consideringly, chewing, and Regina slants her head at him. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing,” he responds once he’s swallowed his mouthful of dough and chocolate, washing it down with a gulp of milk, leaving a stain over his mustache that Regina giggles at and leans forward to swipe her napkin over. “I just noticed you were a bit tense this evening, that’s all. Not your usual self. I wondered if perhaps it had anything to do with Robin’s young lady joining us.”
Damn. Apparently she’s more transparent than she thought. Or at least she is to her father. Regina can only hope that no one else had noticed the root of her discomfort earlier in the evening.
Buying herself a bit of time, Regina nibbles on another cookie, letting the rich, decadent flavor melt on her tongue, and takes a drink from her glass. Henry doesn’t say anything, sits there as if content whether she responds or not, and it’s so like him. Letting her voice whatever is weighing on her mind in her own due time.
Unsurprisingly, she breaks. Admits quietly, “Maybe a little.” It’s not a topic of discussion Regina particularly wants to engage in with her father, though. So she tacks on, “But only because it made me wish I had someone to share the holiday with, too. It’s been a long time since I cared for anyone the way Robin cares for Marian. It just makes me wonder if I’ll ever find that again.”
“That’s all it is?” he asks, drinking down a fourth of his glass.
“What else could it be?”
Henry studies her with knowing eyes like he can see down into her soul, an expression she can’t quite puzzle out on his features and the seconds drag on. The fridge buzzes softly, and she can hear the steady clicking of the grandfather clock from the foyer echoing in the absolute stillness of the rest of the house while she waits for him to respond to her. “Nothing,” he eventually replies, shaking his head, as if he’s come to a decision about something.
She wants to question him more, to discover what he’d been thinking while the wheels had so clearly been turning in his head, but a part of her is afraid of what his answer might be. A subconscious self preservation that she won’t acknowledge as existing.
Because Marian makes Robin happy and that’s what’s most important.
He reaches out to pat a hand over hers on the table, assuring her, “You’re young. You’ll find someone to love again, Regina. I’m sure of it. Just be patient. He’s probably closer than you think.” Henry stands, leans over and presses a kiss to Regina’s head like she’s six years old again as he informs her he’s going up to bed and wishes her goodnight before exiting the room. Leaving her alone with her thoughts.
As Regina busies herself cleaning up, she mulls over the strangeness of the evening. The odd, unfamiliar feelings. But it’s nearly two in the morning and she needs rest. It’s something to consider another day.
Making her way quietly back to the room she’d spent almost all of her childhood in, she thinks this has certainly turned out to be one of the more peculiar Christmases they’ve had.
~ ~ ~
It’s freezing. Frigid air whips around her, causing her cheeks to sting and her limbs to feel clumsy even through the layers of her thick knit sweater and wool coat. Burrowing further into the scarf wrapped around her neck, Regina waves at the lovely cab driver that had dropped her off and strides toward the front door.
Anticipation churns in her gut as she marches up the walk of the familiar brownstone. The Locksley’s home for the last twenty-five years.
She wasn’t supposed to be here at all. An essential business trip she hadn’t been able to avoid or reschedule had come up last minute and required her presence across the coast for the last week and a half. But she’s managed it. Had miraculously found a late flight out this afternoon and an early one leaving tomorrow morning. It’s not much. Not even twenty-four hours home, but absolutely worth it to be able to spend Christmas with her family.
It just hadn’t felt right. Not being with her parents or Richard and Helen. Or Robin. Not spending the holiday with him, all of them, had been unconscionable. Unthinkable. There hasn’t been a year the six of them haven’t spent Christmas together since she was born, and Regina sure as hell isn’t going to break a tradition over three decades old now.
There’s more to it. A realization that’s been growing for months now. Maybe even years. Something Regina doesn’t dare put any stock or hope into. It won’t go anywhere. Can’t go anywhere. They’re friends. Best friends. Two halves of the other, joined at the hip from infancy to adulthood, but it’s never been anything more than that.
Sure, there’s been the occasional occurrences over the years where she’s questioned whether she might feel more for him. If, perhaps, they could have something more. Moments of tension or jealousy that may have caused her to question the nature of their relationship. But it’s always been quickly buried, hidden in a quiet pocket of her heart that she hasn’t allowed herself to delve too deeply into. Robin’s too important to her, his friendship too valued for her to do anything that might jeopardize that.
When she thinks back on it now, that night all those months ago that had been the beginning of this gradual cognizance, it’s rather silly. But then, life often takes one by surprise when you least expect it, she supposes. That’s the nature of things. Though this curveball had been a shock.
Robin had come over for dinner one Saturday evening, just as he’s done a million times before, nothing out of the ordinary. They’d had wine, and her amazing lasagna, good conversation as they’d chatted about their weeks. The two of them had settled into the living room for a movie afterward, a way for them to unwind and enjoy each other’s company for a while longer. Robin had drawn her feet into his lap and casually started massaging them, nothing strange considering she’d been complaining about the heels she’d bought the weekend before and worn for work the last several days.
But sitting there in her home, Robin next to her as they quietly joked about the predictable nature of the film, laughing over something stupid the protagonist had said, Regina had realized that she hadn’t wanted him to leave. Didn’t want to go upstairs to her empty bed alone after such a lovely evening.
It had felt right. Being at home with him. Like something she’d been missing in her life had clicked into place. All of a sudden, images of their past, times in their relationship, had taken on a different hue, as if looking through a new lens to form something entirely different to what she’s always believed it to be. She’d been able to imagine sharing her life with him, as something more than her best friend. Curling up and cuddling with him, kissing him, making love to him. In the span of a heartbeat, their ease and closeness had taken on a new light.
For more years than she can remember, Regina has always loved Robin. As a friend, a confidant. The person that she trusts more than anyone else in the world. In fear of risking that, she’d ignored her feelings of attraction, the occasional times when they’d share a moment that felt a bit too personal, too intimate for mere friendship, had rejected the notion entirely and the intensity would fade.
Even as it’s become more and more difficult to deny the last several months, Regina hasn’t really let herself consider the possibility. Hasn’t given herself leave to imagine what it would be like to pursue a romantic relationship with him. Besides, she’s positive that Robin doesn’t return her feelings. And it’s better this way. Not to rock the boat. To stay merely friends who can rely and count on each other for anything. She can live quietly with her feelings and never give them voice.
Regardless, no matter what way she spins it, she’d wanted to spend the holiday with Robin. Had needed it. So here she is.
Coming to a halt on the porch, Regina lifts a knuckle and rapts at the front door, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet to ward off the cold. She hears the muffled sounds of movement from inside, and her face is already set in a huge grin as the sounds of the lock clicking open lead to the red door swinging back. “Surprise!”
Robin stands before her, slack jawed and in shock, while his eyes rake up and down her body. It’s a full thirty seconds before he recovers enough to exclaim, “Regina!” and pull her into his arms, enveloping her in his warmth and pulling her in from the blazing winter outside.
The scent of pine and chestnuts fills her nostrils, and Regina inhales it as she tucks her face into the crook of Robin’s neck. It smells like home and she feels tears prick behind her eyelids as the pair of them stand there, wrapped up in each other for longer than an ordinary greeting would warrant.
His hand strokes up and down her back, the other at the back of her head, fingers threaded slightly through her dark locks before he’s laughing and pulling back enough that he can look her in the eyes. “What are you doing here?! You said you couldn’t get away. That you wouldn’t be able to come.”
She can hear both the disappointment and the elation in his voice over this turn of events and Regina smiles even wider as she answers, “I found a way to make it work. Though it’s not very long. I’ve got to get back tomorrow morning.” There’s a pause, a few seconds where the two of them simply take each other in, grinning stupidly, before she admits, “But I couldn’t not be home for Christmas.”
Robin brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes and smiles at her, his dimples deep and charming as he tells her, “I’m so happy you’re here. Tonight hasn’t felt right without you.”
The easy statement, the honesty laced in his tone, nearly makes her want to cry all over again, but Regina resists. A million responses race through her mind, however, before she can settle on any of them, their reunion is interrupted.
“Robin, who is it?” Helen’s voice sounds from deeper in the house, and she can hear Christmas music playing from the direction of the living room. When the woman, who’s been like a second mother to her, walks into the hallway and spies them standing in the doorway, a huge smile erupting on her features, Regina’s heart swells. “Oh, Regina!”
Then she’s rushing the short distance toward her, enveloping her in another hug and Regina laughs as she returns the embrace. As Helen fusses over her, chiding Robin for not shutting out the cold, and then dragging Regina into the living room where she’s warmly embraced by her parents and Robin’s father as well, Regina relishes in the feeling of being home.
. . .
She’s here. It’s all Robin can think as Regina helps his mother in the kitchen with the last few finishing touches for dinner, laughing with her father and sipping on wine while she tosses the salad. When she’d broken the news that she wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas, he’d been devastated. Had been hiding it well enough, or at least he’d tried, not wanting her to feel any worse than she already did, but he’d been rather miserable over it.
Even the familiar joy and laughter produced by his parents and Regina’s on Christmas Eve hadn’t been enough to completely mask his dour mood. Robin had put on a smiling face, but beneath the surface, the ache of missing his best friend had been an anvil on his chest.
All of that is behind them now. They can enjoy their evening, celebrate the holiday for the brief time that Regina’s here and all will be well. Exactly as it’s supposed to be. He dutifully helps his father transfer bowls and platters into the dining room until they all settle around the table for dinner. It passes by far too quickly and before he knows it, they’re clearing plates, and debating the merits of dessert now or after they open gifts.
With their parents distracted, Robin catches Regina’s gaze and she’s looking at him intently, jerking her head in the direction of the hallway with a small tilt to her lips. He nods as they sneak off for a minute alone.
“What’s up?” Robin asks once they’re away from the commotion in the kitchen.
Turning to face him, Robin notes a slight blush coloring Regina’s cheeks as she bites her bottom lip, teeth digging into her flesh temptingly. It’s an expression rarely seen on her face and she looks so adorable, Robin silently vows to find ways to make her blush more often.
Finally, she utters softly, “I know it was agreed upon that we would do secret santa this year between every one, but I drew your mom, and, well, I couldn’t help getting you something also. I’ve actually had it for about six months now.” Regina admits, turning to walk to where she’s left her carry on near the doorway.
Robin watches as she unzips the front pocket, pulling out a narrow, rectangular shaped package, the bow slightly squished, but still mostly intact. “You didn’t have to do that, Regina. You being here is the best Christmas gift I could have gotten,” he tells her. Though, he’s stashed a gift for her under the tree also, one he’d been planning to give her when she’d returned from her trip next week. So he supposes they are both guilty of breaking the rules.
“I know,” Regina says, handing him the present, “but I found this and it was perfect for you and I had to get it.”
He takes the offered gift, running his thumb over the shiny Christmas wrap for a second before he starts to unwrap it, eyes flicking up to glance at Regina’s face all the while. She’s watching him anxiously, anticipation written all over her features, and Robin draws the process out a tad, teasing her until she scolds him.
Chuckling, Robin crumples the paper in his palm and turns over the book inside. Then his mind goes blank for a minute as he realizes what he’s holding. It’s a first edition copy of A Christmas Carol, one of his favorite novels. He’d casually mentioned looking for one around this time last year and he’s yet to find one, but here it is.
His clear blue eyes lift to her dark brown ones and she’s still watching him, a smile on her face as she waits for his reaction. “Do you like it?” She asks.
“Of course!” Robin exclaims, “I love it! Thank you.” He reaches one arm out and hooks it around her shoulders, tugging her in for a hug, rocking them both for a minute as she muffles a laugh against his chest. “Where did you find it?” Robin questions when they separate, running a finger over the leather cover and the gold leaf lettering admiringly.
“I came across it this summer at that little bookshop on West Street. It was mismatched in the nonfiction section and it seemed like fate. I remember you saying you wanted it, so I thought it was perfect.”
“It is, “Robin assures, smiling stupidly down at her, thanking her again. “My gift to you seems a bit lackluster in comparison now.”
Regina shakes her head, “I’m sure it’s wonderful.”
Robin grins conspiratorially at her and confesses, “I didn’t draw you either, but there’s one under the tree for you. Should we go pick it out before everyone else comes in?” She nods and Robin grabs her hand, threading their fingers together as he pulls her down the hallway into the living room.
. . .
Now that their Christmas exchange is concluded and everyone’s awed over their presents for the year, there’s nothing left for them to do for the rest of the evening but relax and enjoy each other’s company. To pause and take advantage of the fact that they’re all together.
Her whole body feels full, stuffed and nourished, the wine she’s been drinking since her arrival making her limbs feel heavy. There’s a warm fire in the hearth that heats the entire room, and as Regina reclines on the couch beside Robin, watching the flames flicker and burn, contentment settles over her. Closing her eyes, for, what she tells herself is just a minute, Regina lays her head down on Robin’s shoulder.
His wool sweater is soft and warm also, and his hand pats absently at her knee. She listens to her father and Richard debating what movie they should put on, the standard argument between It’s a Wonderful Life and Christmas Vacation that they have every year. Mother and Helen are admiring the vase her father had gifted her mother and it’s all so normal, expected, that Regina lets herself relax entirely.
It’s been a long few weeks, work bustling and endless hours meeting with clients and colleagues for that final end of the year push. She hasn’t had a chance to just stop and rest like this since before Thanksgiving and it’s wonderful.
Before she knows it, she’s drifted off to sleep. Dozing on Robin’s shoulder until his rich timbre whispers in her ear, a hand on her bicep shaking her arm slightly as he murmurs, “Regina, wake up.” Grumbling sleepily, Regina shifts, turns her body into the warmth of Robin’s arm and side and rubs her cheek against his shoulder. She’s so comfortable and Robin smells so nice. Like pine and Christmas cookies and she sleepily wonders whether he’s snuck more of his mother’s snickerdoodles as she inches back toward slumber.
His chuckle jostles her a bit, and Regina frowns even as he urges her to open her eyes softly. Fighting her heavy eyelids, Regina slits them barely open, slowly letting her vision adjust to her surroundings. It’s nearly the same, though their parents are gone and the fire has died some, closer to embers now rather than roaring as it had been the last she’d remembered.
“What time is it?” She mumbles, placing a hand on Robin’s thigh and pushing herself into more of a sitting position, supporting her own weight rather than letting Robin do it.
He’s grinning at her, those dimples she loves creasing his features, as he answers, “It’s a little after midnight. Your mom’s ready to leave.”
“I take it that means Richard won the movie pick this year,” Regina comments, stretching her limbs and working out a few of the kinks from falling asleep in the position she had. Her muscles burn pleasantly for a minute and then she’s tilting her head and looking at Robin a bit more clearly.
“Bingo,” Robin chortles, laying his arm over the back of the couch behind her and rubbing a thumb absentmindedly over the shoulder she has leaning against the cushions, moving up a bit and kneading at the back of her neck. It feels amazing and Regina nearly moans out loud when he does. “I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did this year.”
Regina smiles, unsuccessfully attempts to stifle a yawn. “I suppose that’s my cue to go. I have to leave for the airport in six hours.” Her face twists into a scowl at that, she’s not looking forward to having to travel again so soon after arriving. But, there’s not much she can do about it. Work demands her attention.
“Do you have someone taking you?” Robin asks, habitually lifts a hand to brush the hair around her face behind her ear. “I can do it if you need.”
Nodding, Regina replies, “Daddy said he would drive me. But it means we should probably get home.” The idea of leaving, of their Christmas being over, depresses her some. The few hours with Robin and her family had been well worth it, though.
“Indeed.” Robin stands, holds out a hand to her and Regina takes it easily, lets him pull her to her feet and then immediately into a hug. “Merry Christmas,” he murmurs, holding her tightly.
“Merry Christmas, Robin.” There’s a pang in her heart, that troublesome desire to stay in his arms forever that has become nearly impossible to silence, but Regina ignores it. Returns his sentiment and lets herself relish the feeling of being held by him for another minute.
. . .
Tonight’s been wonderful. Having Regina here, his family all together. Robin couldn’t have asked for anything more to celebrate the holiday. He hadn’t wanted it to end, wishes he could have found any way to prolong the evening for just a tad longer. Would have happily sat on the couch watching a movie he knows by heart as she’d slept on his shoulder for the entire night. But they’ll catch up in a week when she’s home for good again. Not long at all, really.
Robin’s thinking of their New Year’s plans as he shuffles leftovers into containers and piles plates and pans into the sink when Helen walks in.
“It’s lucky that Regina could manage to make it home. Even just for the night.” His mother’s voice is soft and sweet as Robin glances back over his shoulder at Helen from where he’s dealing with the dishes they’d left soaking in the sink earlier.
“Yeah,” Robin replies, turning back to scrape a bit of food off the plate he holds into the bin and then running the water over it to load in the dishwasher. “It wasn’t going to be the same without her. Didn’t feel right before, but it ended up being perfect.”
Helen hums, striding further into the kitchen and busying herself, helping her son, nabbing the leftover containers, and turning to place them into the refrigerator. For a minute it’s soundless, each of them going about their tasks before she speaks, asks curiously, almost conversationally, “Don’t you think it might be more than that?”
“More how?” Robin questions, turning his head to look at her.
Helen smiles, that motherly, knows-all-sees-all type of smile that even to this day baffles him before she blows him away by answering, “Robin, when are you going to realize you’re in love with her?”
Robin stares at her, stunned into silence by what she’s said as Helen merely gives him a bemused expression and waits patiently. It’s a full minute before he recovers enough to stutter out, “What— what are you talking about? Regina and I are just friends, Mum. You know that.”
“Do I?” Helen comments, a smirk quirking the corner of her lips as she leans a hip against the counter. “I know that you care about her. More than anyone else in the world. That you’d do anything for her.”
Frowning, Robin says, “Of course I would. She’s my best friend, but that’s… it’s just the way we are. We’ve always been close. It’s never been more than that.”
“You’ve never allowed yourself to see it as more. That doesn’t mean that it’s not there.” Helen counters wisely, years of experience, of observation and knowledge, coloring her authority on the matter. “I’ve watched you both since you were born, watched you grow and mature into two loving, well adjusted, supportive people.”
Pausing, she grins at him, clearly amused by this entire conversation, and continues, “I’ve also watched the both of you always come back to each other. It’s always been the two of you. There’s been other relationships for you both, serious ones, casual ones, but it’s never changed the bond you two have.” Moving to rub a hand down his bicep, Helen plays her final trump card, “It’s never altered the way you both look at each other when you don’t realize anyone is watching. I know something’s kept the both of you from settling down. A part of me can’t help but think it’s because you’re waiting for each other.”
Robin gapes at her, opening and closing his mouth several times as he tries to think up a response. Is she right? Is that what his and Regina’s relationship has become? Surely, he would have realized his feelings sooner if it was. Granted, she’s a beautiful woman. The most stunning woman he’s ever seen, but she’s his closest friend, his oldest friend. He doesn’t think of her that way.
Except for those pesky times when she brushes up against him, always innocently, but it makes his heart leap painfully in his breastbone nonetheless. Or when she tucks her nose against his chest and he can smell the crisp apple scent of her shampoo. When her dark chocolate eyes sparkle and it makes his entire being happy just looking at her. Or when she laughs and everything about her lights up.
So if he’s being truly honest with himself, Robin supposes it’s not as if he’s never thought of her that way. He’s just always pushed it away, dismissed it as a fleeting sensation and focused on their friendship. Rather that than risk losing her. Right?
Still lost in thought, Robin’s yet to respond when Helen smiles at him knowingly, leans forward and kisses his cheek. “Just something to think about, Robin,” she offers. “How much more time do you want to waste?” Before she thanks him for cleaning up, wishes him goodnight and a Merry Christmas and heads upstairs.
. . .
It’s a short drive home to his apartment, but as he makes his way through the familiar streets and his windshield wipers blink against the light snow fall coming down, Robin’s mind is utterly occupied. All through his nightly routine, even after he climbs into bed and switches off the light, he can’t get it out of his thoughts.
In love.
With Regina.
Robin tosses and turns, tries to shut his mind off but to no avail. Memories of the last thirty some years flashing through his mind. Running through the backyard and pushing her on the swings when they’d been ten. Plotting jokes on their parents at thirteen. That kiss beneath the mistletoe when he’d been sixteen. Then that one at nighteen as the clock had struck midnight on a new year.
Holding back her hair as she’d tossed up her dinner after her first foray with alcohol visiting him his freshman year. The two weeks they’d spent exploring Europe together the summer he’d been twenty. Helping her move into her own apartment when she’d been twenty-four. When she’d gotten her first big job after graduate school and they’d gone out to celebrate. She’d decorated his office for him when he’d started his business at twenty-eight.
Endless moments throughout his life that Regina has been there for. A constant support. Always a pillar of strength for him when he’s needed it. Truthfully, they’ve both been there for each other through every major milestone and accomplishment. A rock.
As the minutes on the clock tick by and his mind still won’t rest, Robin ponders what his mother has said.
I know something’s kept the both of you from settling down.
He supposes that’s true. Robin thinks of the relationships he’s had. His girlfriend in highschool, the girls he’d dated in college and the smattering of dates he’d gone on for the few years after he’d graduated. Nothing ever really sticking. There’d never been any serious relationship for him, not really, until he’d met Marian. And then he’d been crazy about her, head over heels in love.
Waiting for each other.
Is that what had happened? Robin had always believed that he and Marian had simply grown apart, outgrown each other. They’d become complacent with one another and she’d wanted more. Had wanted to get married and start a family and Robin hadn’t been ready. Hadn’t even been thirty yet and the thought of settling down and committing himself that way had seemed like a step he wasn’t ready to take just yet.
Had he really only been waiting for Regina?
It’s never altered the way you both look at each other when you don’t realize anyone is watching.
Could Regina possibly feel this way, too? Have they both been blind?
Robin turns onto his other side, facing the clock on his bedside table that now reads 5:53. Groaning, he blinks his eyes, they feel like sandpaper and his limbs are heavy and limp. His entire body aches from lack of sleep but his mind is still reeling.
When are you going to realize you’re in love with her?
God, he’s an idiot.
Of course he’s in love with her. Apparently, he always has been. If you asked him to pinpoint a specific moment of when it had happened Robin wouldn’t be able to answer, but thinking back on it now, it’s blatantly obvious to him. His heart belongs to Regina and it has since they were children. It’s just taken him three damn decades to figure it out.
For another few minutes, Robin lays there on his back, staring up at his ceiling as he contemplates what he does now. He’s realized he’s in love with his best friend and hasn’t a clue how she feels.
And she leaves to go across the country for another week in less than two and a half hours. Panic seizes Robin for a second, jagged clutches in this belly as he realizes he can’t wait that long to talk about this. And it’s most certainly a conversation to be had in person. But a week is too long. Enough time for him to second guess himself, to question if this is the best thing for their friendship or if it could potentially ruin it all.
That’s what’s kept them in this limbo for this long as it is.
No, he has to go now. Before he loses his nerve.
Rolling out of bed, Robin rushes to his closet, tossing on the first shirt that he spies and shrugging into it. Grabs a pair of jeans and tugs them up his legs hastily. If he leaves now, he can probably catch her at the airport. She’d said she was leaving at six. He can make it, can find her before she gets through security if he hurries.
In less than ten minutes he’s out the door, driving through the snow covered roads as best he can. He hasn’t a clue what he’s going to say once he finds her, only the belief that the right words will come to him when it’s time.
Robin makes it to the airport just after six forty-five and quickly parks and runs through the lot toward the entrance. Coming to a halt before the departures board, he frantically scans the list of outgoing flights for her location, hoping there’s only one scheduled to leave at that time. When he spots it, he’s running toward the terminal, heart pounding anxiously as his eyes scan everyone he passes.
There are hoards of people and faces he doesn’t recognize as he searches for Regina’s familiar, dark locks, or that bright red pea coat. Anything. He’s nearing security now and wishes desperately that he’s not too late, that he hasn’t missed her yet when he spies her, stopped off to the side and studying her ticket.
Breathing in relief, he shouts, “Regina!” still sprinting toward her as she spins around on her heel.
When he comes to a halt in front of her, she questions, “Robin, what are you doing here?”
“I love you,” Robin gasps, a touch out of breath, his chest heaving as he tries to draw air into his lungs. And that hadn’t quite been the route he’d intended to go, plan or no plan, but he supposes it works. Straight to the point.
She gives him a puzzled expression, utterly confused, though there’s something else in her eyes, too. Weariness, perhaps. Or dare he think, hope, as she tilts her head and responds, “I love you, too. How does that explain what you’re doing here at seven o’clock in the morning? I’ve got a flight to catch.”
But even as she’s questioning him further, Robin is shaking his head, lets out a near hysterical laugh as he realizes the absurdity of this situation. He’s chased her down at the airport on Christmas morning to proclaim his undying love her for. It’s every clichéd romantic scenario in the book, yet here they are. After tossing and turning all night, the gradual realization that she means everything to him, that he’s been a fool for more years than he can count, he can’t allow another moment to pass by without telling her.
It could be the most moronic thing he’s ever done, risking their friendship. One they’ve spent three decades building and nurturing. But his mother is right. What if they’re missing out on more? What if their relationship could prove to be even richer, stronger than it already is? What if they could have another fifty years of bliss together?
Is he willing to settle for something as tame as friendship when it feels as if his very soul and hers are connected? Always have been.
The answer is no. Not without at least giving it a shot.
So he’ll stand here and make a fool of himself, will shout his love for this woman from the rooftops if she’ll let him and pray that by some miracle, Regina feels the same.
Shaking his head, Robin counters, “No, no. I am in love with you, Regina. I think I have been for a very long time and I was too scared of losing your friendship that I buried it. Went on living my life.” He pauses to take a breath, notes the way her eyes have gone a bit glassy as he steps closer to her and grips each of her hands in his.
His thumbs stroke along the outside of her palms, still chilled from the winter bite outside and he smiles at her, that gorgeous dimpled grin. “But you are everything to me. My best friend, the person I want to share the highs and lows of life with. You’re the person that I come to when I need advice or the one I want to tell when something amazing happens. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember and I was an idiot not to realize what that meant sooner.”
Regina’s gaping at him, eyes filled with unshed tears, silent as Robin confesses his feelings to her, but now that he’s begun, he can’t quite seem to stem the well of words inside him. “I want a life with you, Regina Mills,” Robin confesses, lifting a hand to brush an errant lock of hair behind her ear, the tips of his fingers skimming along her cheek adoringly. “I want to hold you and kiss you. I want to make love with you and feel you in my arms. I want to wake up beside you every morning for the rest of my life. Have children, grow old with you. All of it.”
Nerves are like a vice grip around his middle, his stomach jittery as he reveals everything he’d realized during his sleepless night. Everything that had been lurking in his subconscious for years. And she still hasn’t said anything. Merely studies him as he pours his heart out so that Robin can’t help but rock back and forth on his feet a bit, fidgeting.
“So what do you say?” he finally asks, hope a perilous emotion.
Regina continues to stare at him for what feels like an eternity. Seconds ticking by at the speed of a snail. Those rich, chocolate colored eyes wide and bewildered. Hopefully that’s a good sign, that he’s not blundering this all up. As one lone tear escapes, rolling down her cheek, Robin feels a moment of hesitation. Then she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his, capturing Robin’s mouth with hers. Everything inside him sparks and pulses as he embraces her fully, kisses her back and she fits herself perfectly to him. Like two puzzle pieces locking into place.
Her tongue runs along the seam of his lips and Robin’s mouth opens to her happily, sweeping his own through hers, letting the rich flavor of her explode on his tongue. With a groan, he pulls her impossibly closer, cursing the layers of clothes and outerwear that keep him from feeling more of her, fisting his hand at the small of her back.
She tastes amazing. Like mint and vanilla coffee and something that’s entirely Regina that has him addicted with this one sampling. When she moans into his mouth, her lips firm against his before she breaks away with a gasp of air, Robin could just about rejoice.
“Yes,” Regina answers, breath washing hotly over his mouth as her forehead rests against his. “Oh god, this is insane. Yes, yes. I love you, too. Robin—”
He doesn’t give her the chance to say anything else, fuses their mouths together for another deep, glorious kiss. It feels right. Like everything he’s been waiting for in his life. As if the earth and stars have finally aligned and Robin curses himself for taking so long. For not having this sooner.
Maybe it’s all about timing.
And now is their time.
All I Want For Christmas plays over the speakers in the airport as the two of them are wrapped up together, blissfully oblivious to the harried, disgruntled passengers forced to travel on a holiday that shuffle hastily around them, lost entirely in each other. But as Regina melts further into him, drawing his mouth back to hers for a slower, deeper kiss, Robin absently thinks it’s fitting of the moment.
Because after thirty-two Christmases spent together, they’ve finally realized that all they’ve ever really wanted is each other.
Merry Christmas to all of you lovely people out there! I hope you spend your days with laughter, guy, cookies and hot cocoa. Please don't let the gift shopping and business of this time of the year ruin your mood. Find a quiet moment for yourself every day, preferably with the OQ Advent calendar gifts. This is for day 6 of @onceuponanadvent
This year's page looks simply amazing! The girls have done such great work and we are all blessed to have such talented young women work hard for our fandom and to keep the OQ spirit alive.
I am so happy to tell you that I was allowed to continue last year's OQ Advent Calendar story "Liquor Love". You do not necessarily have to read the first chapter again, as I have given you a quick and accurate summary on what happened down below. For those who want to reread anyways: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12264195/1/Liquor-Love. A huge thank you goes out to the people who have helped me get through this. Miles who put up with my tantrums, Alex the most fabulous beta of all times, Shay and TreNesha! You're all so wonderful! Thank you!
Now I hope all of you enjoy yet another day on the short journey to Christmas.
Happy Holidays everyone, and much love,
Previously on Liquor Love:
After the news of her father's death, Regina decides to throw her mother's Christmas plans in LA over board. Instead, she drives up to Storybrooke, Maine, where she lived for the first six years of her life, before her mother decided to rip her away from her beloved father on the day before Christmas twenty seven years ago. Regina is exhausted from the drive and being back in Storybrooke after all this time is a more emotional affair than she first thought it would be. So, she decides to drown her sorrow in a bottle of whiskey. A store called "Merry Spirits" run by a certain Robin Locksley, is her destination. Her original plan consists of buying a bottle and be out, however Robin invites her to a whiskey tasting and during their talk, it turns out Robin knew her father very well. Things get emotional and awkward when Robin takes her for a walk in the snow to her father's grave on the cemetery. Because of Regina's clumsiness when it comes to climbing the cemetery wall, they topple over and kiss. When she is about to go home to her father's house, Regina decides she does not want to be alone on Christmas Eve, so Robin invites her to stay over on the couch at his place.
Liquor Love II
Warmth. Warmth and comfort and the smell of bacon and pancakes. That's the first thing she notices when her mind starts slowly waking up from her deep slumber. There's a hint of a headache in the back of her head, but it's not bad, so she can ignore it for the moment. Something tickles her nose, and then pokes her shoulder, but Regina just sighs before cuddling back into her blanket. Just five more minutes, then she might consider getting up for a glass of water and aspirin for the headache that she knows will come at one point. It's okay though, she's a grown up, she can deal with headaches - if only whatever was poking her would leave her the hell alone. Seriously.
She moves, lets out a groan, which is followed by a giggle. Wait, what? A giggle? Where the hell did that come from? Where the hell was she - what? Pancakes? Bacon? Breakfast? Oh. OH!
Regina cracks one eye open, blinks a bit, blinded by the bright light that is flooding the living room. This is definitely not her father's house, definitely not his couch. Right, right, memories of yesterday slowly come crawling back into her conscious mind. There was whiskey, and Robin, more whiskey, more Robin, snow, kissing… and she'd gone home with him. Oh God. Awkward, how very awkward. Leave it to her to do the walk of shame on Christmas morning. Well, she hasn't slept with him; she has nothing to be ashamed of, right? But she's kissed him… and that is making her a tiny bit uncomfortable. Not the kissing itself but the fact she's enjoyed it and doesn't regret it.
She wanted to be out of his hair, didn't want to spend Christmas morning. Now here she is, on his couch and the man is making breakfast. Is he expecting her to stay?
Another poke, another giggle and Regina finally shoots up, fully awake now. There's a little boy standing in front of her dressed in forest green pajamas decorated with little red and white candy canes, and a stuffed monkey tucked under his arm. His curls are dark brown and wild, his dimpled smile ever charming. The first thought that strikes her is that he doesn't look much like Robin, but these dimples… the dimples are totally his. Now what is his name again? Rudolph? Ronald? No, Roland, his name is Roland.
Roland is still giggling, looking at her with wide, happy eyes.
"Roland, what are you doing?" It's Robin in the doorway, a plastic spatula in his hand, which he's probably used to turn the pancakes and bacon before he heard noises coming from the living room.
"It's Christmas, Papa!"
Robin laughs, saying 'yes, it is' but he knows that he's not allowed to climb out of his bed by himself, knows that he should call Robin once he wakes up so they can get ready for the day. He ruffles his boy's hair, giving Regina a quick wink to acknowledge her, muttering a "Merry Christmas", which she answers with a smile and nod.
"Papa, I wanted to see if Santa brought me my present! Look, he did!" The little boy exclaims happily.
Robin's eyes wander over to the Christmas tree and the presents underneath, which makes Regina laugh, because it's just typical for a child to open all the presents without the parent being present. They're both surprised to find the presents untouched, no wrapping paper lying around. Nothing is missing from under the tree.
Regina eyes the little child that is still standing in front of her, staring at her awestruck with big, happy eyes. She notices a burnt smell coming from the kitchen, but she's afraid to say anything because Robin looks at his son with confusion and worry, crouching down next to him, asking carefully.
"Roland, what present are you talking about?" The little boy giggles once again, his arms clutching the monkey tight to his small body.
"I asked Santa for a new Mama! And look, there she is!" He's laughing, launching himself at Regina now, who can't help but catch the little man who is hugging her as tight as he can. "I'm Roland!"
She doesn't reply, her tongue is heavy as lead.
Robin's eyes are wide with shock, his mouth slightly opened, not knowing what to say at the scene that just unfolded in front of him. They don't know what to say, just stare at each other, letting the awkwardness of the situation rise.
It's Regina who gets her power of speech back first, still holding the babbling and overly enthusiastic child in her arms. "I think your breakfast is burning."
"Oh bloody hell!" He darts off to the kitchen, leaving his son and Regina alone in the living room.
This is not how either one of them has imagined Christmas morning. Not at all.
A/N: Happy First Day of OQ Advent! Looks like my streak of being on Day 1 continues! I hope you all enjoy this story, inspired by the classic Christmas song by Wham! It makes me itch to write an Outlaw Queen story every time I hear it and now I’m doing so. I hope you enjoy it!
I know this year hasn’t been a very good one for many, many reasons. But as we approach the end of it and look forward to a new year, I hope you find happiness and peace. Happy holidays, happy December, and good riddance to 2020!
“This is a great party, Regina. I am so glad you decided to have it this year,” Mary Margaret said, helping to throw away some dirty dishes that didn’t make it to the garbage cans Regina had set up around the lower level of her house.
Regina smiled, feeling lighter and jollier than she had in a long time. “It felt right, you know?”
“I do,” Mary Margaret said, setting the garbage pail down. She accepted some hand sanitizer from Regina as she added: “Daniel would be so proud of you if he could see you.”
“I’d like to think so. He always loved our annual Christmas party and I felt like I let him down the past couple years not having it,” Regina confessed.
Her friend shook her head. “I think he understood why you couldn’t have it. I think he would’ve been the same way if the situation were reversed.”
Left unsaid was how close that almost came to be. The firefighters and police who responded to their accident said that had the car rolled a couple inches to the right, Regina would’ve been the one who died while Daniel would’ve lived - and probably wouldn’t have required all the surgeries she had needed after being extracted from the wreckage of her fiancé’s car. One patch of black ice and a faulty airbag had taken so much from her in one fell swoop - the man she loved, her ability to have children and her love for the Christmas season. It was hard to believe in hope and joy when her life felt devoid of both.
Until now.
Now she had Graham.
Mary Margaret’s husband David had introduced her to him, though his intention was not to set them up. Graham had become his partner at the sheriff’s department around Christmas the year before and since he had just moved to town, David and Mary Margaret had invited him over for Christmas. They had done the same for Regina and so the four of them had a small and cozy Christmas together. She had spent the afternoon talking with Graham and for the first time in almost two Christmases, she almost felt cheerful.
She and Graham started to spend more time both with Mary Margaret and David and without them. Both agreed it was nothing serious, just two people who enjoyed each other’s company spending time together, occasionally overnight in the same bed. Around the summer, though, they decided to evolve their friends-with-benefits situation into an actual romantic relationship, agreeing to date each other exclusively. Fun beach dates and steamy nights soon turned into cozy autumn afternoons curled up under blankets and watching movies. With winter officially starting and the first snowfall predicted within a week, she was looking forward to ice skating dates and hot toddy nightcaps.
Most of all, she was ready to feel love, hope and joy again.
“I never thought I would see that smile again,” Mary Margaret said, pulling Regina from her thoughts.
“What smile?” Regina asked, tilting her head.
Her friend chuckled. “The I’m-so-in-love-and-very-happy smile. You used to have it all the time when Daniel was alive and then it went away. Now it’s back, so I’m guessing things are going well with Graham.”
“They are,” Regina replied. She looked around, making sure her boyfriend wasn’t lurking around to overhear what she was going to say. Even though she didn’t see him, she lowered her voice as she said: “Let me show you one of the things I’m getting him for Christmas.”
She turned around and opened a drawer on her hutch, pulling out a small thin box. Regina held it out to Mary Margaret as she removed the lid, revealing a silver keychain with his initials engraved on it. Two keys were already attached to it.
Mary Margaret gasped. “Are those the keys to your house?”
“Yes,” Regina confirmed. “Graham and I discussed him moving in when his lease is up at the end of January. So this is my way of formally inviting him to move in with me.”
“Oh, Regina!” she gasped. “That’s great!”
Regina nodded, putting the lid back on and returning her present back in its hiding spot. “I didn’t think I would feel this way again but I do. And I hope it never ends.”
“I am so glad,” Mary Margaret replied, hugging her. “And I’m also hoping that you could talk to someone for me about that.”
That surprised Regina and she pulled back from her friend. “You do?”
Mary Margaret nodded. “Remember the new teacher I asked about inviting?”
“Yes,” she replied. “You said he had just moved here and didn’t know many people in the area.”
“Right. Well, he lost his wife earlier in the year so this is his first Christmas without her,” Mary Margaret explained.
Regina felt a pang in her heart, understanding the pain he had to be going through. That first Christmas without Daniel was the hardest and she had almost not even put up the decorations that year, not feeling able to celebrate. Mary Margaret had convinced her to put up one strand of lights and Regina had found comfort in them, spurring her to decorate the rest of the house in order to alleviate her pain for at least a month. It worked, though she still didn’t think she would ever truly be happy or celebrate Christmas again.
Yet here she was.
But she couldn’t imagine getting through that first Christmas without her friends, especially Mary Margaret and David. They supported her and were there for her through all her tears and fears, ready with a comforting word or hug. If she could bring some comfort to Mary Margaret’s new colleague, she would feel as if she was starting to pay it forward.
“I can talk to him,” she agreed. “Where is he?”
“Let’s go find him,” Mary Margaret said, taking Regina’s hand. She led her out of the dining room and across the foyer into Regina’s living room. All the other guests were in there, separated into their own little groups as they laughed and chatted while Christmas music played in the background.
Regina waved to those she passed before Mary Margaret came to a stop in front of Regina’s armchair. Sitting there was a man about their age who wore a dark green sweater over a white collared shirt and paired with black pants. He seemed startled, looking up at them with wide blue eyes. “Um, hi, Mary Margaret,” he said, revealing a slightly British accent.
“Hi, Robin,” she replied, pulling Regina forward. “I wanted you to meet my friend, Regina Mills. Regina, this is Robin Locksley.”
He stood and shook her hand. “Thank you for inviting me. You have a lovely home and this is a great party.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” she said, though she wondered if he had been sitting in that chair since arriving rather than socializing.
Mary Margaret beamed. “I’m going to let you two get to know each other better. Excuse me.”
She left and Regina rolled her eyes, chuckling a bit. “Sorry about her.”
“That’s okay,” he said, though she noticed he stopped looking her in the eyes. He then shifted from foot to foot. “I don’t know what she told you but I’m not interested in dating anyone right now.”
Regina played back her friend’s words and bit back a groan. This man didn’t know anything about her and so would no doubt assume their mutual friend was trying to set them up, which was the last thing he needed after losing his wife.
“I have a boyfriend,” she assured him. “You’ve probably met him, he’s around here somewhere. That’s not why Mary Margaret wanted us to meet. She, um, told me about your late wife and that this is your first Christmas without her. I have some experience with that.”
He raised his eyes to meet hers again, unmasked pain in them. “You do?”
She nodded, motioning toward the chairs. “Have a seat.”
