#…does this make satine trina…

[gray-autumn-sky]

Laws of Attraction, Part 2

When Mal murders her husband, she turns to Regina--a former lover and defense attorney--for help.

Loosely based on the movie Adam’s Rib. 

Part 1 can be found HERE on Tumblr, and HERE on AO3. 

For @trina-deckers and art done by @laura-p-g.

They’d planned everything in as much detail as they could--and the point of that had been to make them all more comfortable and less nervous. They agreed that Mal would come over around seven with Chinese takeout. They’d eat and have some wine, and then they’d go into the bedroom--and that’s where the plan had ended.

And as she looked in the mirror, smoothing her hands over her crimson skirt, she can’t help but be nervous about what was going to happen once they were all in bed together. She worried that she wouldn’t measure up to the other women Mal had been with, that her lack of experience would be glaring and off-putting. She worried that someone would be left out or bored, or worse that one of them would have regrets when all was said and done.

She grins as Robin comes up behind her, hooking his arm around her waist and pulling her back against him. He presses a kiss to her cheek and then rests his chin on her shoulder.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says. “You can still back--”

“I want to.”

“Good,” he says, chuckling softly. “Because I really want to, too.”

“I’m just…  worried.”

“About what? We’ve talked about this and planned every--”

Taking a breath, she turns and links her arms around his neck--then, slowly, she release it as his arms circle around her waist and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “What if I’m… not good at it.”

He blinks. “You’re… good at it.”

“With you, maybe, but I’ve never…” Her eyes sink closed. “What if I’m not good for her?”

“Regina, relax.”

“But I--”

Her voice halts as she hears the front door open, and then Mal calls out a sing-song hello and announces she has fried rice and egg rolls and is starving. She lets out a shaky breath as Robin again kisses her forehead again, then takes a step back, giving her hand a little tug before leading her out of their bedroom.

“Did you get started without me?” She asks, her brow arching as she sets the brown paper take-out bag onto the table, watching as they come out of the bedroom. “Because that’s not fair.”

Robin laughs as he leans in, offering her a quick kiss before she does the same--and then, for a moment, they all just stand there.

“You, um… you said there were egg rolls?”

Mal nods. “Yeah, and extra plum sauce.” She laughs softly as Regina nods and looks to Robin as her lip catches between her teeth. “You’re nervous.”

“A little.”

“I told her she doesn’t have to be.”

“He’s right,” Mal says, reaching for her hand. “This is going to be fun.”

“I know it’s supposed to be, but I just can’t help but think--”

“Regina,” Mal cuts in, chuckling softly as her eyes briefly shifting to Robin. “Stop over-thinking it. Relax.”

“I just don’t want to… disappoint you or--”

Her voice halts as Robin’s hand presses to her back, and she turns to look at him, watching as a soft but slow smile edges onto his lips. He leans in and presses a fluttery kiss to her cheek  as his hand slips around her waist--and she grins as Mal tips her chin back toward her, and leans in, pecking her lips once as her smile brightens, and then she leans in again. The next kiss is harder--she pulls her up against her, parting her lips with her tongue as her hand pushes into her hair. She’s warm and she tastes like cinnamon--and it’s so easy to get lost in the kiss, so easy to want to see where it leads, and to let it lead where it will. Her stomach flutters with anticipation as Robin steps in closer, his lips finding a spot on her neck, just below her earlobe, that drives her crazy--and as his hand ghosts down her back to her ass, her nerves begin to fade.

She feels Mal draw in a breath and then she pulls away as Robin lifts his head--and all she can do is stand there and pout. She wasn’t ready for it to end.

“You know, suddenly, I’m not very hungry,” Mal says, grinning as she looks between them. “I think I need to work up my appetite for a bit, if that’s okay with the two of you.”

“I could be okay with that,” Robin says, his voice husky as he looks to her, watching as she nods in agreement. He takes Mal by the hand and tugs her toward him and Regina can’t help but smile at the little grins they exchange--so soft yet full of excited anticipation--and as Mal’s arm slides around her waist. “Come on,” Robin says, taking another step back as the butterflies in her stomach start to flutter again. “I think we’ve waited long enough.”

From there, everything happens so quickly--and so easily.

She and Robin both sit down on the edge of the bed, pulling Mal down between them. They all trade kisses and touches, and pull away clothing. As she pushes Mal’s shirt off of her shoulders, she dots a few kisses along her bare shoulder, watching as Mal swallows hard and tilts her head back, giving her more access to her and letting her own eyes shift to Robin--and she watches as Mal’s hand slips into his lap, rubbing him through his pants as Regina sucks harder at her neck.  

They all take their time with each other--working slowly, teasing playful and keeping the mood light. They’re all aware of the step they're taking--and they’re all aware of that once the step is taken, they’ll never be able to go back. And while that’s terrifying, it’s also exciting--and the closer they get to the point of no return, she comes to the realization that she wouldn’t want to go back.

Taking a breath, she leans back against the pillows, watching as Mal kisses Robin, and watching as Robin unhooks her bra. He breaks the kiss long enough to watch as he slowly pulls away the lacy black bra--and she grins as Mal looks back at her from over her shoulder, offering a quick little wink as Robin leans back in. Regina grins back, biting down on her lip as she slips her hand into her satin panties, watching Robin trail quick kisses down Mal’s throat, dipping lower to suck on one of her breasts as his hand kneads the other--and the last little bits of worry dissolves as she realizes how wet it makes her to see them together in this way.

Mal lets out a little sigh as she pulls away from Robin, pressing a quick kiss to his lips as she whispers something she can’t quite hear--but whatever it is, it draws a broad grin onto Robin’s lips as he shifts away from Mal and settles at her side.

Robin rolls onto his side, stroking his fingers over her arm and her hip as she turns, catching his lips between hers--and then, just as her tongue parts his lips, she feels Mal’s hands sliding up her legs and parting her knees. Her eyes widen as she turns to watch Mal, her stomach fluttering and her heart beating faster and faster as Mal’s hands caress her inner thighs as they trail upward--and her breath catches in her chest when Mal’s long fingers hook into the waistband of her panties.

Mal grins as she swallows hard, biting down on her lip and  unable to look away as she peels the panties down her legs--and again, her stomach flutters with nervous anticipation as Mal settles herself between her legs, pushing them further apart.

She hears Robin mutter something in a low, husky voice--and when she turns to look at him, she can’t help but laugh softly. He’s watching them intently as if his greatest fantasy is about to be realized--and the anticipation of it is driving him mad. His boxer shorts are down and still tangled around his ankles, and he’s stroking himself--and it seems he’s going at a painfully slow pace in hopes of pacing himself for what is bound to be a long and exciting evening.

And then, she feels Mal’s breath on her--and a little chill runs down her spine, her stomach once again fluttering as her heart beats wildly. Mal’s tongue first slips against her, she shudders softly, her jaw clenching and a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as Mal continues to lick and suck and make her squirm--and every time her tongue flicks against her clit or her lips form around it, it takes everything in her not to explode right then and there. But if she let that happen, she realizes, this might come to an end--and she’s not at all ready for Mal to be done with her--and as she grits her teeth and grasps at the sheet beneath herself, comforted by the thought that this is just one of many nights to come for them.

She moans softly as Mal’s finger slowly slips inside of her--and then beside her, she hears Robin draw in a breath as a low oh, fuck escapes him. Turning her head on the pillows she grins at him and when he leans in to kiss her, her hand replaces his on his cock--and for awhile, she thinks they’ve found a perfectly blissful rhythm.

An orgasm rips through her--rippling through her core and making her whole body shudder, and Mal is only more encouraged by it. She continues to lick and suck as her fingers drag slowly through the sleekness between her legs, and when she comes down from her high she looks to Robin--watching the way he looks at Mal. She grins, stroking her hand though Mal’s hair as she pulls up her knees--and drawing in a breath, she watches as Mal sits up. Her cheeks flushed slightly as Mal grins at her--cocking an eyebrow seductively as if to ask if she enjoyed it--and then as she bites down on her lip, her eyes slide to Robin. She gives Mal a little nod and then edges over to allow Mal to lay down between them--and when Mal rolls onto her side and Robin’s arms wrap around her as he pulls her into a kiss, she can’t help but think how gorgeous they look, tangled in such an intimate embrace.

Robin’s hand slips into the back of her lacy underwear, somewhat awkwardly pulling them down as he kicks away his own boxers, careful not to break their kiss. She hears Mal giggle against his mouth--and there’s something terribly endearing and sexy about the way she does it. It’s a little strange to be watching them like this and she’s not sure what she’s supposed to do, other than just watch. She sucks in a breath, watching as Robin’s hand rubs over the curve of Mal’s ass--and there’s a part of her that feels like she’s interrupting--but then his other arm opens up and he motions of her to come closer.

She does--and her stomach flutters as she sits up and presses a warm kiss to Mal’s shoulder. Mal pulls back as Robin rolls onto his back, and she grins at Regina while she positions herself to straddle his waist. Regina looks down between them, her eyes focusing on Robin’s cock--watching as it practically begs for attention--and then she settles back on the bed beside him. He turns his head, grinning as he kisses her--and then, she breaks the kiss, wanting to watch him with Mal.

Her lip catches between her teeth as she watches Mal get up on her knees, watching as Robin rolls on a condom and then helps guide himself into her--and then slowly, Mal sinks down on him. Her palms press into his chest and she looks at him, grinning--and then her eyes slide to Regina, her eyes trailing down her naked body as her hips start to move.

It’s slow at first--and he holds her hips as she slides against him--slowly working him in and out of her, nearly at full length--and then, she picks up her pace, riding him hard. Their breath becomes ragged and husky--and she can’t believe how turned on she is, just watching them together. Her hand slips between her legs, rubbing absently as she watches them, pleasuring herself as they pleasure each other--and then, her breath catches in her throat and her eyes widen a little as Mal reaches between her legs. Robin grins at her as she wriggles downward, and as Mal fucks Robin, her fingers fuck her--and she feels her second orgasm quickly starting to build.

It’s easy to get lost in the moment. She’s not really focusing on anything in particular, but everything about what’s happening is so exciting and erotic, and its hard for her to remember that only a couple of hours before, she was doubting the whole thing--that a couple of hours before she was worried that this would be disappointing or that she wouldn’t know what to do or that she wouldn’t enjoy it the way she thought. She hears a low grunt escape Robin, she looks to him, grinning as she she realises how close he is to coming--and then, taking a breath, she sits up and holds her breath as she tucks her legs beneath herself and reaches out to rub her fingers against Mal’s clit--and she grins as Mal turns to look at her with wide, but encouraging eyes.

Robin comes--and Mal rocks slowly against him, Regina’s fingers pushing back and forth against her in an easy rhythm. He breathes through the orgasm, kneading his fingers at her hip as he watches Regina’s fingers rubbing against her--and nearly as soon as Mal rolls off of him, she’s in her back and Regina’s between her legs.

She doesn't think about it--she just does it, and it surprises her how intuitive it is and how into it Mal seems to be. She licks her until she’s squirming beneath her, her second orgasm coming quicker, and when she pulls away, her cheeks are flushed and momentarily, she feels a little embarrassed by her zealousness. But Mal watches her, her chest rising and falling with each labored breath as she tries to come down from her orgasm and Robin’s lips quickly find her jaw. And it’s not before long that he’s easing her onto her back to fuck her.

Neither of them last for very long--and it’s soft and lazy and sweet. He slips in and out of her, watching as she and Mal trade sloppy kisses. And when it’s done, they all lay together, breathless, tangled and quiet. There’d been a part of her that feared this part the most--the afterward when nothing could be taken back and regret might start to seep in--but it’s comfortable and she’s glad that there don’t seem to be any signs of regret.

Mal kisses her cheek as she sits up and she watches the way Robin’s hand gently rubs against the small of Mal’s back as she points to the robe folded on the dresser and asks if she can borrow it for a bit. Regina nods, telling her that it’s out for her and she grins her thanks. Mal pulls it on and retreats into the bathroom, suggesting on her way that they should heat up the forgotten take-out, and both she and Robin laugh as Mal tells them she’s fairly sure they’ve all worked up a good appetite.

“So,” Robin murmurs as he rolls onto his slide, stroking his fingers over her bare hip. “You okay?”

She nods. “Very okay.”

“You enjoyed it,” he says, a sweet little grin edging onto his lips as his eyes glint with contentment. “Or you seemed to.”

“I did,” she admits. “And you--”

“Feel the same.”

“So, you want to continue--”

“I do.”

“Good,” she says, giggling softly as she presses a quick kiss to his lips. “I do, too.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to her forehead before getting out of bed and reaching for his own robe, tying it around himself as he pulls her robe from the hook and hands it to her. She slips into it as she gets out of bed and as she tugs at the sheets, she grins when he hands her a fresh set, helping her to change them. He pulls the quilt back up over the new sheets, fanning it out and letting it cascade down as she puts the dirty sheets into the hamper--and when she turns back to him, he catches her by the waist, pulling her into a kiss.

“Is this a private moment or--”

They both laugh as they pull away from each other, and Robin opens his arm to Mal. Regina grins as Mal comes to them, nuzzling into Robin’s side as they make plans for the rest of the night--plans that involve re-warmed Chinese take-out, a game of scrabble and a lot of cuddling on the couch.

Regina’s arm slides around Mal’s waist and Mal’s head falls to rest on hers, as they make their way into the living room to set up the coffee table and Robin goes to heat up their food--and she can't help but smile at the contentment she feels, and she wonders why they’d waited so long to have this moment.

______

Regina sighs as she rounds the corner into their bedroom, padding across the room as Robin towel dries his hair. She climbs into bed as he tosses the wet towel into the hamper, and she sighs again, this time louder as he gets into bed with her.

“What?” He blinks, as she rolls onto her side to face him. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like I did something.” She only shrugs and sighs, watching as Robin’s brow creases. “The last time you looked at me like that I left the refrigerator door open and the milk spoiled.”

At that, her eyes roll. “I wasn’t mad at you because the milk spoiled. I was mad at you because I didn’t realize that and I gave Roland sour milk in his cereal and he spit it up… all over my shoes and I was nearly late for court.” Then, a little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth as she reaches out, rubbing two fingers over his forearm. “But I’m not mad at you now.”

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “I’m just… worried.”

“That was convincing,” he tells her, biting down on his lip. “You know, if there’s something you want to talk about--”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Oh…”

They had a rule--a rule that said they wouldn't talk about Mal’s case at home. For the most part, they’d done a good job of this. Robin was already in an awkward position and toeing a dangerous line and every time the case came up, Mal would shrink away. No matter how many times they told her they wouldn’t let her go to prison, she’d nod along and smile softly, but they knew she didn't fully believe it. If her marriage to Stefan Perrault had taught her anything, it was that life wasn’t fair--life had a way of kicking her when she was down, and it hadn’t taken long before she realized that there was no rock bottom, and she could always sink lower.

“Mal’s still asleep. I just checked on her.”

His brow arches. “She went up to nap hours ago. I was sure she’d be milling around in the kitchen by now.”

“I know, and… I’m sure this is a good thing that she’s able to sleep because I don’t think she’d been sleeping very well before she came here. It’s just…” She sighs, realizing she’s not articulating her thoughts well because she’s tired and trying too hard to be careful of what she shares, but it's impossible not to confide in him and though they’re still trying to find a balance for this new situation, she won’t shut him out. “She was so upset in my office earlier, and then she was quiet through dinner. I wanted to talk to her, and make sure she’s… as okay as she can be, given the circumstances.”

“Is that how the two of you ended up talking about Henry?”

Regina blinks. “Hen--oh. Yeah, that came up.”

“She was really upset about that,” he says, rolling onto his side to face her. “When I got home she was looking at that box of recipe cards of all the boys’ favorites, you know… the ones with the pictures… she just looked so upset.”

Regina nods. “She kept telling me that you and I were supposed to be okay and...and I know we had that rough patch after she left us, but when you compare what we went through and what she was going through, it just… seems sort of....” She sighs and her eyes press closed. “I don’t know know where I’m going with that.”

“No, I get it,” Robin says as her eyes meet his. “I felt about an inch tall when I was talking to her today. I was so angry at her for leaving. I didn’t understand how she could just… up and leave. I never considered... more than that.”

“You were hurt,” she says simply as her thumb rubs against his wrist. “And it’s not like we had a way to contact her. She was in…”

“Countries I’d never even heard of,” Robin says flatly, rolling his eyes. “I read that article a hundred times trying to find a way to reach her, to figure out where exactly she was.”

“I know. I did, too.”

He sighs, shaking his head. “And now, I… I feel guilty.”

“I do, too.”

“I feel guilty for moving on and being happy when…”

“That’s the worst part of it,” she says, her voice catching in her throat as her eyes press closed for a moment--and she thinks about all of the times she’d privately wished that Mal were there with them, all those happy moments that could have been happier. “We found a way to be happy without her.”

“I didn’t think it when we were all together, but looking back, that had to be a fear of hers… that… that you and I would decide we just wanted it to be the two of us again and--”

“But we didn’t decide,” Regina says, her eyes fluttering open. “But… I don’t think it’s fair to say that she decided it, either.”

He nods, taking a breath as she continues rubbing her fingers over his wrist. “She spent over a decade in a living hell, just a few miles away and we...sulked and then moved on with our lives.” He stops and swallows--hard and audible--before his eyes meet hers. “We didn’t fight for her.”

“I know,” Regina murmurs in reply, the ever-present knot in her stomach tightening. “That’s… that’s part of why I want to fight for her now. It’s why I have to win this case.” She pauses for a moment, chewing at her lip, fully aware that she’s teetering closer and closer to dangerous ground. “I know we’re not supposed to talk about it, but… I just keep thinking if I miss something or if I don’t explain something right, this could be it for her. I could fail her again.”

“That’s not likely,” he says as a little grin edges back onto his lips.

“But it’s going to be up to a jury that’s likely going to be primarily men, and though I would never say this to her, she did buy that gun a week before she killed him with it. There’s actually a smoking gun here and I’m just… I’m worried that once they hear that, they won’t hear anything else.” Biting down on her lip, she watches as he shifts uncomfortably. “I’m… I’m telling you this as my husband and not as…”

“I know,” he cuts in. “And...that’s if I made that argument. That’s if--”

“Stop,” she cuts in, giving him a warning look--and then she sighs. “We really shouldn’t be doing this. We shouldn’t talk about it, not like this.”

Momentarily, Robin’s eyes press closed and he nods--and she can tell he’s disappointed. They used to enjoy this--bouncing ideas off of each other, trying to figure out the opposing counsel’s next move, plotting how they’d counter. There’d been so many nights that they’d stayed up late, splitting a pot of coffee and picking at leftovers long after the boys had gone to bed, going over evidence and crafting zingers they could deliver during their opening and closing arguments. They worked well together--they fed off each other and though they had different strengths and weaknesses, they complemented each other and were practically an unstoppable pair.

Then one morning, he told her he was considering leaving the firm they’d built together. He’d given her some bullshit line about wanting to stand for justice, and though she’d first thought it was a knee-jerk reaction to a recent case they’d won--a case in which their client had definitely been guilty. She tried to reason with him, reminding him that it was just part of the job, that the prosecutor could have done a better job, but a month later, he hadn’t changed his mind and was packing up his office--and it hadn’t been until that first day when she’d walked in and saw the empty office beside hers that she realized that part of their lives was over.

“Why did you take this job, Robin?” She hears herself ask, already knowing the answer, but wishing now more than ever it could be undone. “If you hadn’t left, we’d be doing this together we’d… be on the same side, and I’d feel a hell of a lot better about my chances.”

“Your chances of winning are just as good without me. You always were the better attorney.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Nodding, he takes a breath and rolls onto his back, pulling away from her. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I know, but I still don’t get it.”

“You get it,” he says, pressing his head back into the pillow as he draws in a breath. “You just think it was the wrong decision.”

“Because it was.”

“Regina…”

“Robin,” she says, sitting up so that she’s looking down at him. “You’re a defense attorney and a damn good one. You shouldn’t be--”

“I know you think I gave you some bullshit reason,” he cuts in. “But I wasn’t lying to you when I said that I couldn’t keep getting people acquitted for crimes they’d clearly committed. I was never completely comfortable with the moral ambiguity of what we do, and… once I came down from my high horse, I’d all but accepted the job.”

“It was one case.”

“It was more than that and you know it. My heart was never really in it.”

Her brow arches. “And your heart is in this?”

“No.”

“So, how do you feel about that now?”

“Like an asshole.”

“Good.”

“I also thought it’d be fun to go toe-to-toe with you in court,” he says as a sly little grin stretches across his lips. “You know, getting each other all worked up and then… coming home and… making each other forget all about it.”

A little grin pulls onto her lips--she likes that, and she wishes that’s what he’d told her from the start. “You thought it’d be fun having me publicly hand you your ass, again and again and--”

“Well, I thought I’d win sometimes,” he says, his voice a bit indignant. “But it wasn’t about who won or who lost, it was just… something fun, something new, something different.”

“Something to keep the spark,” she realizes--again, wishing he’d told he that months ago, so she hadn’t spent the entire spring pissed off about something she couldn’t fix or change. “That’s… kinda of sweet. Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I don’t know. I… I just… didn’t want you to get bored with me.”

“I couldn’t,” she says, laughing softly as she lays back down, this time cuddling into his side. “Are you sure there wasn’t… something else?”

“Something else?” He asks, folding his arm around her. “It really wasn’t that complicated. It was just--”

“Are you sure it didn’t feel like something was missing?”

He blinks down at her and then nods, hugging her a little closer as he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Oh.”

“And maybe you felt that way because… something was missing.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Maybe.”

“I felt that, too, you know,” she tells him.

He nods. “She was alway there, even when she wasn’t.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Always there, in the back of my head.”

“It just seemed unfair to admit that to you though.”

“I felt the same way.”

“I never wanted you to think that you weren’t enough or that the life we’ve built together wasn’t enough.”

She blinks as she tilts her head up to look at him. “So, you decided to piss me off instead?”

A little chuckle rises up from his chest. “You’re cute when you’re pissy and--eventually, I thought you’d realize how fun it’d be to be on opposite sides of the courtroom. And it’d be spontaneous and… fun.” For a moment, he stares past her, grinning softly as a little chuckle escapes him. “I just had all these little fantasies about squaring off against you in court then coming home and pushing you up against a wall and letting my frustration out in another way.”

Her brow arches, and she has to admit, there’s definitely something appealing about that little scenario--but that little scenario, so far, is too far away from reality to actually enjoy. “Are you having fun now?”

“No,” he sighs, his frustration evident. “I guess we can just chalk this up to another stupid decision.”

“You could quit. I know you said--”

Robin shakes his head and her voice trails off. “I told you. I don’t trust Gold… especially not with Mal.” He sighs again as his fingers slide up and down over her shoulder, and for a couple of minutes neither of them says anything. Instead, she just watches as he stares up at the ceiling. “Do you think we treated her as… some kind of dirty little secret?”

“What? No.” She sits up, her brow furrow as she looks down at him. “Why would you ask that?”

“Because Mal said it,” he admits as their eyes meet. “She was upset and I told her that I didn’t think we were destined to fail, that the three of us could have worked out in the end… and she said… that.”

Regina blinks, and she can’t help but feel as though she’s been punched in the gut. “Ouch.”

“I know.”

“She… really said that? She said that we treated her like a dirty little secret?”

“Well, not… like that,” he says, pulling himself up. “She said that she wanted us to have a normal life, and that we couldn’t have a dirty little secret hiding in our bedroom.”

“Still… ouch.”

“I never really thought of it that way, but… after she said it, I couldn’t help but think that maybe we had inadvertently treated her that way.” He shrugs. “With the exception of John, no one knew.”

“That was… to protect her.”

“That was the intent.” He sighs and rubs his hand over his brow, his fingers pressing into his skin and wrinkling as he drags them back and forth. “All evening I’ve been thinking about the night John found out about our relationship with her… and the things he said...and… the things I didn’t say.”

“Well, in your defense, we were caught off guard.” Her shoulders tense with indignation. “And I don’t care that the door was unlocked. Any decent person would knocked before barging into someone’s apartment, especially so unexpectedly.”

“Yeah, well...he didn’t.”

She grimaces as the memory--a memory that still makes her uncomfortable. They’d been at home, caught up in their own little world. Mal was over and earlier in the evening they’d gotten take out from Granny’s. She’d picked it up on her way upstairs--and the half-eaten carton of tomato soup was getting cold on the on the coffee table beside the plates they hadn’t bothered to take into the kitchen when John arrived. It was raining that night and they hadn’t had a care in the world. After dinner they’d put on some music and settled on the couch together, expecting to spend a lazy evening in, enjoying their lovers’ company. Eventually, as it always seemed to, one thing led to another--and by the time John walked in on them, she was topless and straddling Robin’s lap as he kissed her neck and as she made out with an also topless Mal.

It’d been humiliating--and it would have been humiliating whether Mal was there or not.

“I just wish I’d handled it differently,” Robin tells her. “I was so worried about what he thought.”

“Well, you’ve been friends when him since you were seven.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But I’m in love with her and the things he said about--”

“In love,” Regina murmurs as a little grin edges onto her lips as she sits up.  “You’re in love with her… as in… presently, you’re in love with her… not, you used to be in love with her.”

Robin blinks--and it's obvious he didn’t realize what he said--and then he smiles. “You’ve always known that I still have feelings for her.”

Regina nods, “But having feelings for someone or even loving someone isn’t the same as being in love with them.” Biting down on her lip, she looks down at him, watching as he pulls himself up onto his elbows. “And, that’s quite a relief because… I’m still in love with her, too.”  

She takes a breath, feeling a little flicker of excitement--she’s been thinking about this since the moment she first saw Mal in her office, thinking about what it’d be like to just pick up where they left off and pretend that the last eleven years hadn’t happened. If there’d been any doubt that she was still in love with her, it vanished completely when she spent a night holding her. And since then, she’d been tip-toeing around it, fully aware there were two other people’s feelings she had to consider. She didn’t want to let herself fall in too deep and she didn’t want to hurt either of them--but she also didn’t want to hurt herself.

“Robin, do you think that after this is all over there’d be a chance that we could… try again.”

“With Mal?”

She nods. “I know she’s… going through a lot right now, but I don’t think she ever really wanted to leave, and eventually…”

“Neither do I,” he admits. “She all but said it this afternoon.”

Regina nods. “She and I… kissed this afternoon.”

“I kissed her, too.”

“We made out in my office.”

“We made out in the kitchen.”

She blinks--and then she can’t help but laugh. Robin’s arm hooks around her shoulders and he lays back, pulling her down with him, and as he presses a kiss to her forehead and she cuddles into his side.

“So I guess it’s up to Mal then.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” she murmurs back. “It’d be nice though, having her back… having things the way they used to be.”

“It wouldn't be the same though,” he says. “We have children now and…”

His voice trails off and she lifts her head from his shoulder. “I wouldn’t want to keep her a secret.”

“No,” he’s quick to say. “I wouldn’t want to do that.”

“They’d love her,” she murmurs softly, resting her head on his shoulder as he squeezes her a little closer--and just a little while, she loses herself in the fantasy of what it’d be like to have Mal back in their lives, as real part of their life. Roland would love her instantly--after all, how could he not love someone whose last name literally meant “of the dragons,”--and Henry was so like her in so many ways, interested in everything and obsessed with art and pictures. They could be a family--and though it wouldn’t be the traditional, conventional type--it’d be theirs and it’d be one she’d long ago stopped hoping she’d have.

_____

Robin sighs as he nurses a cup of coffee and blinks down at the notebook balances on one knee and then textbook balances on the other, and for the life of him, he can’t make heads or rails of his own writing. Grimacing, he looks up at Regina, watching as she writes out an outline on a yellow legal pad--and watching as she does so either ease.

“Can I borrow your notes? Mine are… smudged.”

Rolling her eyes, she looks up and grins. “That’s why you don’t write note in pencil.”

“I like writing in pencil. It’s easier to fix mistakes.”

“And then the pages smudge when the pages press together.” She sighs, shaking her head as he frowns down at his notes, and when he looks back up, her note book is extended to him. He takes it and looks down at the front of the composition book. It’s labeled with the course title and the professor’s name, and along the edges are little tables that she made out of tape, each leading to a particularly important part of the notes. Inside, he finds her flawless script--written in ink, and not at all smudged--and in the widened margins are questions and points she wants to make in her paper. “I’ll, uh, get this back to you in a--”

“Keep them as long as you need to,” she cuts in, her voice distant as she focuses down on the legal pad and her outline. “I’m done with them.”

“How is that possible?”

She blinks as she looks up at him. “Because while someone went out with the boys, to celebrate a semester that’s not actually over--”

“It is over, though,” he counters. “Classes have ended.”

“But we still have two papers to write and an exam.”

Frowning, he looks down at her notebook. “You could have come with us. You were invited.”

Regina laughs. “They didn’t want me to go. They wanted you to go, and thought I had to be invited for that to happen.”

“But you--”

“I’m not upset,” she cuts in. “I got a jump start on my first paper, didn’t have to share my popcorn, and didn’t have to spend an evening gritting my teeth and smiling at a bunch of men who think it’s cute that I’m in law school.” A little laugh escapes her. “I care much more about maintaining my perfect grade point average than making friends.”

“I feel guilty for going without you.”

Her eyes roll and she laughs again. “If you’re going to feel guilty, feel guilty about drinking yourself into a hangover when you’ve got this much work and studying to do this week, not about having an evening out with your buddies.”

Before he can reply there’s knock at the door and Regina’s attention shifts away from him and her outline--and he grins as she opens the door to Mal, kissing her cheek as she passes into the apartment. He watches as she sets down two suitcases--and he laughs as she announces that she’s there to spend the week with them.

“The whole week?” Regina asks, her brows arching as she looks between them. “That’s amazing, but I wish it were any other week.”

“We’ve go a few deadline and--”

“Oh, I know,” Mal says, looking between them. “That’s why this week is so perfect.”

“I’m… not following this,” he says slowly, setting Regina’s notebook on the coffee table in front of him. “It’s perfect that...you’re here but we’re crazy busy?”

“You’ll have to forgive him,” Regina says, grinning over at Mal. “He’s a bit hungover.”

“Ahhh...”

“I just think it’d be more enjoyable for all of us if Regina and I weren’t swamped with work, so we could…”

“But that’s just it,” Mal cuts in. “I want to help. I can make pots of coffee and snacks. I can go on library runs and rub tense shoulders. I’ve got a few bags of groceries in my car and,” she draws in a short breath as she hoists up a small--and seemingly heavy--black leather suitcase. “I even brought my typewriter.”

“That’s sweet,” he says, watching as Regina’s eyes light up at the mention of the typewriter. “And you’re right. That does sound kind of perfect…for Regina and I, but that doesn’t sound very fun for you.”

Mal’s eyes widen and she shrugs. “I get to spend a whole week with the two of you. What could be more perfect than that?”

“You can really sneak away for a whole week?”

She shrugs. “My family thinks I’m bird watching.”

Regina’s brows arch. “I’m sorry? What?”

“Bird watching,” Mal says again, looking between them. “Two summers ago a friend and I went up to this little cabin in Maine and I took photographs of birds and she sketched them.” She shrugs. “They think I’m doing that again.”

“Oh…”

“Won’t they want to see the pictures?”

Mal’s brow arches as he looks to Regina. “A picture of a pigeon is a picture of a pigeon. They’ll hardly be able to tell the pictures are old, especially if I develop some of them a second time.” She grins. “And that'll buy me a couple of afternoons with the two of you next week.”

“This just keep getting better.”

His heart flutters as Regina grins, hugging Mal into her side and squeezing her. “And some of us won’t take the full week to finish,” she says, laughing softly as she winks at him. “I’ll be glad to have her here when you're grumpy and pulling an all-nighter the day before the exam.”

Robin frowns, but he can’t deny it; so instead, he takes a sip of his coffee--and then gingerly, he rises up to his feet. “I’ll go grab those groceries, while you settle in,” he says, as he takes her keys from her, rolling his eyes as Regina murmurs something about just wanting to put off his paper for a bit longer.

Mal laughs gently and brushes a kiss to his cheek as he passes her--and by the time he reaches the stairs, he’s grinning like an idiot at the prospect of having week with Mal. He reaches her car and unlocks the trunk and collects three full bags of groceries---and as he mills through them, he can’t help but notice a brand new box of condoms peeking out from a pharmacy bag and tucked beneath a few small crates of berries.

Slamming the trunk closed, he goes back in, unloading the groceries and putting them in them away--and when he hears Regina laugh from the bedroom, he grabs the pharmacy bag and joins them.

A grin edges onto his lips when he enters, finding them both sitting at the edge of the bed, kissing as Mal’s opened suitcase sits forgotten behind them. He clears his throat and they pull apart, and a bit awkwardly he pulls the condoms from the bag. “The freezer seemed like a poor place to store these.”

“You brought a box of condoms?” Regina asks, looking at her with an arched brow. “A whole box.”

“What?” Mal asks, looking between them with wide eyes. “I’m staying here for a week and I know you’re both busy, but I can’t imagine that’ll mean no sex at all and… it’d be a pity if we ran out.” She shrugs. “I know that you two don’t always use them and I don’t know how regularly Robin buys them, and it’d be a shame to ruin our fun because of poor planning.”

Regina looks at her. “I… don’t think that would have to mean we couldn’t have any fun.”

“But our fun would be limited,” Mal counters. “And if we don’t end up needing them this week, we’ll need them eventually.” She shrugs as she rises up from the bed. “Besides, those ones are ribbed for a little bit of extra fun.”

Robin blinks, swallowing hard as his eyes shift away focusing on her suitcase on the bed. “And, the, uh… camera?”

“Oh, well, if my parents think I’m a few states away taking pictures of birds, I had to make it look convincing and actually take my camera.” And then her smile turns coy. “And you never know when inspiration might strike.” His brows arch and suddenly, he can’t help but let his mind wander to all the naughty things they could do with a camera. Mal laughs as she looks between them. “Are you two hungry?”

“Um, what?” Regina asks, her eyes fixed on the box in his hand.

Robin clears his throat as he sets the box on the nightstand. “I. uh… hadn’t really…”

“It’s not even nine,” Mal says. “And judging by the state of the living room, I highly doubt either of you woke up and made a big breakfast, and neither of you have the guts to bug Granny for free food in the middle of the morning rush.”

“No…”

“Okay,” she breathes out, smiling again as she looks between them. “So you two go and… do whatever it was that you were doing before I got here, and I’ll make us all breakfast.”

And then she leaves--leaving them to follow her.

Regina redirects him to the couch and back to her note book and he can’t help but grin as she sets up Mal’s typewriter at the table--and his brows arch and a little chuckle escapes him as he watches her pet two fingers over one of the keys. And when she catches him watching her, she turns and give shim a stern and serious look that never ceases to be adorable--something that both infuriates her and makes her blush.

He settles back into his chair and pushes away the thoughts that are far more fun to think about. He makes a few notes on a legal pad and starts to piece together a bit of the argument he wants to make, and thankfully, the aspirin he took when he woke up that morning starts to kick in. Every now and then, he grins as the sound of Regina’s fingers tapping on the typewriter keys or Mal humming softly from the kitchen as she makes them all blueberry pancakes--and though it’s safe to say that term papers and exams never factored into the equation when he thought about what it’d be like for Mal to spend a week with them, he can’t help but think that regardless of the timing or the situation, he’s glad to have her there with them and glad to have here there as a real part of their lives.

_____

It’s strange being in Robin and Regina’s house without them; but then again everything about this situation feels a little strange to her--even if it was a good kind of strange.

She’d missed them--for years, she’d missed them. For so long, they’d been just a few miles away and so often she wondered what would happen if she just so happened to run into them at the grocery store or the bank, or if she’d simply picked up the phone and called them. It was a fantasy she indulged in often--usually when things got really bad between her and Stefan--but she always knew it couldn't be more than a fantasy because they were too important to her to allow herself to ruin their lives. And if she allowed herself, even once, to indulge in those fantasies, that was exactly what would have happened--and really, it was a small miracle she'd gotten away with it as long as she had.

Taking a breath, she reaches for a framed photograph and she smiles at it--smiling at the photograph of Robin and Regina with their boys, all smiling and looking so happy and content--and she can’t help but think that it’s the sort of photograph that should be on the cover of a magazine. They all look so perfect. Judging by the background--a giant mound of crumpled red and green metallic wrapping paper and a hint of a pine branch in the corner of the frame, the picture was taken on Christmas morning.

Henry and Roland are wearing matching flannel pajamas--Henry’s are red and white, while Roland wears a green and yellow pair--and though it’s hard to tell, each are clutching the same penguin stuffed animal. Roland is sitting on Robin’s knee donning a bright and cheesy smile while Henry leans back against Regina’s legs wearing a smile that’s so reserved, and almost shy. Robin is holding onto Roland tightly and his chin rests atop the little boy’s messy hair while Regina’s arm is hooked around their oldest, her chin resting on his shoulder as she smiles the same bright but reserved smile.

She feels her throat tightening as a little voice in her head reminds her of what she's missed out on--but then a stronger and louder voice reminds her of just how impossible that would have been. Drawing in a breath, she swallows hard and reminds herself that tears won’t solve anything, and that their smiles should be a comfort and a reminder that the sacrifices she made we were worthwhile.

Tracing her finger over the edge of the frame, she can’t help but get lost in the  what if’s and what might have been’s--and though it’s painful, she lets her think about what it’d have been like if she’d been there that Christmas morning when the photograph was taken.

She imagines that the boys were up before the sun--giggling excitedly as they ran down the stairs, their eager footsteps serving as an alarm clock for everyone else in the house. She imagines waking with a groan, unable to believe that it’s already morning--and Robin and Regina slowly waking up beside her, muttering about the early hour and their need for coffee as they all pulled on their robes and headed downstairs to join the children, all brimming with excitement and ready to tear into their presents…

Minutes later, they’d have joined them with cups of instant coffee in their hands as Roland excitedly informed them that Santa had most certainly come the night before--evidenced not by the presents stacked beneath the tree, but by the empty plate on a table beside the fireplace. They’d all chuckles softly and nod, pretending that they hadn’t used those cookies as their reward for actually finishing gift-wrapping before sunrise.

The three of them would settle on the couch watching as the children opened presents, a mountain of brightly colored paper accumulating slowly between them. Henry would search through the presents, separating his out from the others’ and Roland would have started with the biggest that he could find. They’d have all cuddled up together and sipped their coffee, and somewhere in the middle of it all, while Henry thumbed through a new comic, while Roland tested out his new View Master, they’d have exchanged their own presents--and hers would have been the camera that the picture she was looking at was taken with.

She smiles at the false, but vivid memory, thinking about how she’d have made them all pose and how easily she’d have gone through an entire roll of film in a single morning. She jumps ahead of herself, thinking about how much fun it’d have been to develop those pictures and how she and Robin and Regina would have laid in bed together, picking out their favorites and one favorite to frame.

And then, for a fleeting moment, she lets herself imagine what that photograph might have looked like had she been there--and she pictures Regina reach out and tugging her into the photo, allowing the timer on the camera to do its job and capture a family photo that includes them all--and as she settled on the floor between the boys, she thinks of how she’d have reached up between Robin and Regina and tickled the bottom of a little foot belonging to a blonde haired, blue eyed little girl who had her father’s dimples--the girl who--

Sucking in a breath, she stops herself.

She’d let the fantasy go too far and for an all too brief moment, she’d allowed herself to consider what it’d have been like if she’d allowed herself to have them, to consider what it’d have been like to build a family with the people she loved, to consider what could have been hers… and even the fantasy is too painful to stand.

Blinking back her tears, she reminds herself that it was better this way--she could never have what she wanted, and there was no point in crying over what would never be.

Had she stayed their life would have never been normal. Robin and Regina would never have had a normal marriage and no matter how hard they tried, they’d never have been able to keep her a secret. People would have found out and they wouldn’t have understood--and though they might have been able to handle that, it’d have been especially unfair to their children.

Swallowing the lump at the back of her throat, she sets the picture down and bats her hands over her eyes--she can’t cry over this, she decides, and though she’s not sure what, she knows she needs to go and do something else--and when she turns, she jumps back at the sight of Robin, standing at the threshold with his hands in his pockets.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, “I, um… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” she replies, averting his eyes in an effort to hide her tears. “It’s your house and--” She pauses, looking up at him as her lip catches between her teeth as she realizes the time. “It’s three-thirty in the afternoon and… you’re here.”

“It is, and I am.”

“Not that I have any opinion on the matter, but shouldn't you be at work?”

Nodding, he sighs. “Yeah, I just… I couldn’t quite stay there today.”

“No?”

“No,” he tells her, as a little grin edges onto his lips as he comes into the room and sits down on the arm of the couch. “But I have this case that’s… slowly eating away at my soul.”

“Oh,” she murmurs. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Her brow arches. “Actually, I’m pretty sure that it is. I murdered my husband, after all, and I assume that’s the case that’s eating away at you.”

Robin blinks. “You have to stop saying that to me.”

“It’s true. I did.”

Robin shrugs dismissively and his smile brightens as he comes toward her. “Besides that I knew that my wife and I have this beautiful house guest who I didn't get the chance to see this morning.” She laughs and rolls her eyes as he reaches for her hand, giving it a soft little squeeze. “And I missed her.”

She grins and looks away, chewing at her lip--and it feels so nice to be here with him, so nice to have him flirting and being sweet and--

She stops, trying to clear her thoughts, fully aware that she was getting ahead of herself again--just like she’d gotten ahead of herself the other day when she’d kissed Regina in her office and just like she’d gotten ahead of herself when she'd kissed him in the kitchen.

Taking a breath, she looks away from him, trying to maintain her composure--and that’s when he reaches for her, his hand touching to her arm and forcing her to look at him, and when she does she finds that his eyes are full of concern. She swallows again as he rubs her arm gently. He doesn't say anything, but he stands there, patiently waiting to see if there’s something she wants to talk about--and though she’s not sure what she could possibly say to explain herself, just being near him this way is a comfort.

The tears welling in her eyes spill down her cheek and her face scrunches, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment--and again, he says nothing, instead, he pulls her into his arms, holding her and letting her cry.

For awhile, they just stand there with her crying into his chest and him holding her close, stroking his hand comfortingly over her back. He murmurs sweet nothings into her ear--his voice so soft and tender as he tells her that everything’s going to work out, that she’ll be okay and that he’s glad that she’s there. After a little while, he leads her over to the couch and she cuddles into his side, letting him hold her even after her tears have stopped.

She smiles a bit shyly as she wipes away her tears, and Robin smiles sweetly, as he hugs her a little closer and presses a kiss to her hair--and then, before she has a chance to overthink it, she leans in and kisses him--pressing her lips to his and parting his lips with her tongue. He’s quick to respond, letting his hand push into her hair as he draws in closer, pulling her deeper into the kiss.

At some point--she’s not even sure when or how--he pulls her into his lap, and she smiles into his kiss as her fingers rub over his stubbly cheeks. One of his arms stays wrapped around her and the other slides down, his hand rubbing over her ass--and she’s not quite sure what it is, but she feels the heavy feeling in her chest lightening as her shoulders relax. Her hand slide into his suit coat and--

“Hello?”

Everything in her tenses as she hears Regina’s voice--and her thoughts reel back to one particular evening after a dinner party when she’d convinced one of the wives of one of Stefan’s business associates to go upstairs with her, and she can’t shake the feeling that had come over her when the woman’s husband walked in on them or the desperation and fear she’d felt when she pleaded with him to keep what he’d seen a secret, blaming too much champagne and boredom for their indisgression. And though this moment is entirely different, she can’t stop herself from feeling that same fear and desperation as she remembers Stefan’s hard eyes on her the rest of the night or how she’d been so sickly worried--and rightfully so--about what her stupidity might bring upon herself at his hand.

“Oh… oh my…” Mal pulls back and her cheeks flush as Robin blinks, his brow furrowing as he feels her tension building as her heart starts to race. His hands stroke gently along her back and she feels tears burning once again in her eyes as Regina sinks down beside them, unable not to notice how upset she is. “It’s okay,” she tells her as her hand joins Robin’s on her back. “It’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“But I… I mean, we… we’re not….” Her eyes press closed and her cheeks flush at her inability to even explain what she’s thinking and feeling. “I just didn’t really know how you… um… felt about…”

“You and Robin?” Regina asks, her fingers still stoking lightly against her back. “I feel the same way I always have about the two of you.”

“I just… we haven’t talked about it and…” She draws in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. As usual, I didn't think. I just--”

“It’s completely fine. You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Maybe we should talk about this,” Robin says as he looks to Regina, offering her a soft little smile that she returns. “I think we might need to, just to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

“Yeah,” Regina says. “After dinner, I think.”

At that, a soft chuckle escapes him. “Is that my cue?”

“No,” Regina replies, laughing softly. “I’ve got dinner. You take care of her.” Mal watches as she winks and then, her breath catches as Regina leans in, kissing her softly on the lips, pulling back and nuzzling her for a quick moment before rising up from the couch. “I hope you're both in the mood for lasagna.”

Mal feels herself nod as she chokes out a reply that she barely hears.

“Or you could join us,” Robin suggests. “We could order take-out and you could cuddle up here with us until it arrives.”

“Ooh, that’s tempting,” Regina tells him as she leans in and pecks his lips. “But I already went to the meat market and got the hamburger, and I picked up some fresh lettuce and tomatoes, and some bread from the bakery.” She shrugs. “I’ll just need one of you to pick out some wine in a little bit.” Laughing softly to herself, she straightens herself and smoothes her hands over her skirt. “Besides, I want to do a little prep for an upcoming court date and it’d be really helpful if a certain Assistant District Attorney were distracted. It bodes well for me.”

Robin sighs and his eyes roll--and Mal can’t help but notice the way he tenses at that.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” she tells him with a nod, her hand ghosting over Mal’s back . “I’ll let you know when I need you, so until then… carry on.”

They both watch her go--and for a few long seconds, neither of them says anything. It occurs to her that she should probably get up and go help in the kitchen--that’d be safer and less emotional and it’d give her something to do with all of the nervous energy pent up inside of her--but then Robin shifts her off of his lap and to his side as he pulls her head to his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. It’s so easy being here with him, letting him hold her and comfort her without ever making her admit the things she can't quite bring herself to say aloud. And then, she can’t help but nuzzle closer.

“You’re safe here,” he tells her simply. “No one can hurt you here.”

“That’s...a nice thought,” she says. “Except it’s not entirely true.”

“Sure it is,” he insists. “You’re surrounded by people who love you.”

She nods. “It’s too complicated for it to be safe and sooner or later you’ll realize it’s too much--”

“Don’t do that,” he cuts in. “Don't sell yourself short or let yourself think that Regina and I don’t still love you, or that we don’t want you here.”

“I know you both care--”

“Mal…”

“In a perfect world, it might work, but this world is far from that and I don’t want you or your children to be hurt by… me complicating your lives.”

He sighs, holding her a little closer as she cuddles in, allowing him to hold her. She feels him draw in a breath, like he’s about to say something, but no words come, and for that she’s grateful. She’s not ready for an argument--especially when she’ll have to make a case for something she doesn't want or believe in.

_____

Robin pouts as he watches Regina and Mal come out of the bedroom--still giggly and flushed in their loosely tied robes, still completely caught up in each other. Mal’s arm is loose around Regina’s waist, and Regina’s head is pressed to Mal’s shoulder, and as annoyed as he is that he’s been stuck studying while they’ve been having fun together in the bedroom, he has to admit, they’re quite adorable together and that makes it hard for him to stay annoyed for very long.

They disappear into the kitchen and he hears the tap turn on and the stove ignite, and as he attempts to return his attention to his notes, Regina laughs out. He looks back at the kitchen door, grinning as he imagines

Regina lifting herself onto the counter as Mal fills the kettle, and then as she turns away from the stove, he imagines Regina laughing as she hooks her leg around Mal’s hips. He pictures them, teasing each other with little nips and pecks as they wait for the kettle to boil, and he pictures Regina’s far-too-dramatic pout when the kettle whistles and Mal pulls away.

For the better part of the last two months, Mal has been a part of their relationship. What started out as a friendship between them all, quickly grew into something more--and by the time they were willing to acknowledge what they were all feeling, she’d already become something of a constant in their lives. She was an easy fit--likely easier than any of them thought she’d be. From the start, they’d all got along so well, and from the start, they’d been fast friends--and even now, that friendship was more than evident and only seemed to strengthen as they grew closer.

Truthfully, when he’d made the decision to propose the idea of inviting Mal into their relationship to Regina, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was suggesting--he didn’t know if that meant the three of them or simply combination of the two of them, or if he was giving her permission to explore a side of herself that she’d kept tucked away and barely even acknowledged to herself. He knew there were people who enjoyed the freedom of open relationships--not that he knew any of them personally--and he also knew there were people who’d been hurt by them--or, at least he imagined that there were. It was complicated and it was unconventional, and he knew there were risks involved. He worried about ruining their friendship with Mal, he worried about things changing between him and Regina. He knew that there could be hurt feelings and flares of jealousy, that their friends and families wouldn’t understand--but when the three of them were together, none of that seemed like a possibility for them.

He loved seeing Regina and Mal together--together, in any way. Almost as much as he loved being with them--in whatever way a specific moment would allow.

He enjoyed catching their stolen moments. He enjoyed the way they’d laugh together at a private joke or the way one of them would sneak a quick kiss. He enjoyed catching a glimpse of one of them taking the other’s hand or the way they’d cuddle up together on the couch--and he enjoyed that they let him be a part of those moments, and that he could have those sorts of moments with each of them, too.

He and Regina had only been dating a few months when she’d drunkenly confessed to him in a game of Truth or Dare that she was also attracted to women. Fueled by too much alcohol, he’d asked her a series of questions--asking if she’d ever been with another girl or even kissed one, and to each question, she replied with a shy and almost regretful “no.” The next day, when the liquid courage had worn off, she’d barely been able to look him in the eye. Her cheeks had flushed as she stumbled through a lie that served as an explanation and when he’d told her that it didn’t bother him, she’d stared at him in disbelief.

After that day, they didn’t talk about it again--and then one night, he’d taken her out to the cinema and she’d been dazzled by the deep-voiced and hooded-eyed Lauren Bacall. By that point, years had passed and they were far more comfortable with one another, and they’d had a much more serious and mature conversation about her sexuality. But still, even then it’d been something so abstract and something she distanced herself from.

And then, they met Mal.

Mal was real and tangible, and together they were beautiful and sweet, sexy and fun--and with her, Regina was able to discover and embrace a part of herself she’d long kept hidden away.

“You’re still not done?” Regina asks as she comes into the living room, nursing a cup of tea.

Robin’s eyes roll and he smiles at Mal as she hands him a steaming mug of tea before sitting down beside Regina and curling her feet beneath herself. “Nearly,” he grumbles. “It was a little harder to concentrate with, um… the sound effects coming out of the bedroom.”

“You could have joined us,” Mal says, sipping her tea. “I mean, if you weren’t being produc--”

“He can join us once he’s ready for that exam.”

Robin chuckles as Mal frowns. “Everyone deserves a little break,” she says, looking between them. “Sometimes breaks can be invigorating.”

“He had his break,” Regina says, arching her brow as she looks pointedly at him. “When he was making a little house out of my index cards.”

His eyes narrow as he feels his shoulders tense up a little. “It was a castle.”

“And that makes all the difference,” Regina says, chuckling softly as she takes a sip of her tea. “Seriously though, it’s Constitutional Law. It’s not that--”

“Says the history major.”

Regina’s eyes roll. “I didn’t tell you to take this class. You were the one who thought it’d be fun it we signed up for the exact same classes for our last semester, remember? You could have taken some sort of science class that let you… play in the dirt or-- ”

“Okay,” Mal cuts in, her voice rising over Regina’s. “There’s no need to argue over what you could or couldn’t have taken. It’s done now and--”

“It’s just… boring,” Robin sighs. “It’s not like--”

“You can do anything to change that,” Mal interjects, giving her a look that’s somehow both soft and stern. “You’ve been at this for hours, and I think you’re going a little stir crazy.” Blinking, she turns to Regina. “And just because you can power through anything and barely need to study, doesn’t mean--”

“I don’t not need to study. I just study a little bit every--”

“Regina, that’s not the point,” Mal says. “The point is, I think you could both use a little break.”

Robin tosses down the index cards. “Isn’t that what you two were doing in the--” Mal’s eyebrows arch and his voice faces. “Never mind.”

“When is the exam?”

“Monday.”

“Well, it’s only Saturday now, and it’s well-past dinnertime,” Mal tells them as she sets her tea down onto the coffee table. “So, I think you should call it quits for the night, and,” she blinks and turns to Regina. “I think you should let him.”

Regina pouts. “You’re kind of bossy.”

Laughing, Mal shakes her head and leans in, pecking Regina’s lips. “I thought you like that about me.” Robin grins as Mal pulls back and he watches Regina bite down on her bottom lip. “Or that’s how you felt about a half an hour ago.”

“I was… a bit… well…”

Robin laughs as Regina’s cheeks flush, and once more, Mal leans in and pecks her lips--and then, tightening her robe, she rises up from the couch. “I’m going to make us all some popcorn,” she says decidedly. “You two should find something for us to listen to.”

“Oh, CBS is airing a special on World News Tonight about--”

“No,” he and Mal both say in unison as Mal disappears into the kitchen--and he can’t help but chuckle as Regina pouts and sips her tea.

“You should just be grateful it’s Saturday and The Guiding Light isn’t on.”

“Oh, that is lucky for me.”

A little grin pulls onto Regina’s lips. “You like it. I know you do.”

“I don’t have much of a choice.”

“Is that why you always have to hover when it’s on.”

Taking a sip of his tea, he avoids eye contact. “It’s a small apartment. It’s impossible not to have.”

“Sure.”

Laughing, he pushes himself up from the armchair and joins her on the couch, stretching out his legs so that his feet rest on the coffee table. He reaches for the newspaper as he folds one arm around Regina, smiling softly to himself as he skims the weekend listings for programming.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “In a few minutes, Bing Crosby is going to be performing with Tommy Dorsey and his orchestra. It should last about an hour.”

“I like Bing Crosby!” Mal call from the kitchen. “Actually, I love Bing Crosby.”

“Me, too,” Regina says as she cuddles into his side. “I think we have a winner.”

“It appears so.”

“Did the note cards help?” she asks, peering up at him with wide eyes. “I’ll study with you tomorrow morning, if you want.”

“I think I’m ready,” he admits. “I just… hate these exams. They’re so long and Professor Hopper just… makes me uncomfortable.”

Laughing softly, Regina looks up at him, pulling herself up and turning to face him as his arm hooks loosely around her hip. “He’s such a sweetheart.”

“I know,” Robin murmurs. “He’s always smiling and… nodding encouragingly.” He chuckles softly as Regina’s brow arches. “It’s condescending.”

“It’s nice.”

“It’s fake,” he insists. “No one is that nice. I always expect him to hand back my blue books and laugh as he tells me I’ve failed.”

“He wouldn't.”

“And he flirts with you.”

At that, her eyes widen and her lips part. “No, he doesn’t.”

“He does. He likes you.”

“That’s because I always do the reading.”

“And because you raise your hand to answer every question.”

Laughing softly, her eyes narrow. “Are you arguing your point or mine?”

Rolling his eyes he ignores the question. “At his last lecture, he clearly checked you out when you were coming into the room. He didn’t even try to hide it.”

“Are you… jealous?”

“No,” he bristles, clearly lying. “I’m not jealous.”

She seems stunned and her jaw drops. “You are!”

“No.”

“Robin…”

“I am not jealous.” Regina’s brow arches as he bristles again. "I’m not!”

“Are you talking about me?” Mal asks, her voice even but, her eyes wide and cautious as she comes into the living room, hugging a large bowl of popcorn to her middle. “I didn't mean to interrupt or--”

“No,” Robin cuts in. “One of our professors has the hots for Regina.” A little tighter than necessary.

A little grin stretches over her lips as her brow arches and she looks to Regina. “Well, that’s no surprise.”

“Mal!”

“Oh, come on, Regina,” Mal says, handing Robin the bowl of popcorn as she crouches down in front of the radio, turning the dial back and forth until she hits the station. “He’d be crazy not to have the hots for you. I mean, look at you.”

Robin grins as Regina’s cheeks flush.

“The first time I saw you, I couldn't take my eyes off of you.”

“Maybe that’s because I was staring awkwardly at you.”

Mal laughs as she turns up the volume and then she joins them on the couch. He can’t help but grin as she lays across the couch, her head in Regina’s lap and her long legs draped over the arm of the chair. He grins was he watches Regina’s fingers comb through Mal’s hair as an announcer welcomes listeners to the show.

“He’s not my type, anyway,” Regina says after a few minutes.

“What?”

“Dr. Hopper,” she says, looking over at him. “He isn’t my type.”

“Oh no?”

Mal tips her head back and momentarily, their eyes meet as her fingers twist around the silky belt of Regina’s robe. “And what exactly is your type?”

Robin grins as Regina’s cheeks flush slightly as she chews at her bottom lip, looking slightly embarrassed and slightly perplexed, and as Mal’s hand slips through the slit of her robe and up her thigh. “I, um… I think you both know that I prefer blondes.”

“Yeah?” Robin asks, his fingers rubbing over her robed arm, slowly but surely loosening it--and suddenly they all seem very uninterested in Bing Crosby and whatever orchestra he’s performing with. “And why’s that?” His brow arches as he shifts himself closer and slides his lips along the crook of her neck. “Any particular reason?”

He feels her breath catch in her throat as she turns to him, slipping her hand up over his stubbly cheek as a grin pulls onto her lips. “Oh,” she murmurs. “Well that’s easy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods, brushing her lips over his, teasing him as she pulls herself back, stopping him from taking her lips in his. “They’re much more fun.”

And then, she draws him back, kissing him hard as Mal pulls her robe open--likely intent on unnecessarily proving her right.

_____

Regina grins as she looks back over at Mal, watching as she dries the dishes that Robin washes—and as she watches, she feels her heart growing heavy at the glimpse of what their daily lives might have been.

“Well, everything’s put away,” Regina says, clearing her throat as she puts the last Saran-wrapped container into the refrigerator. “And no one’s been poisoned, so I’ll take this as a win.”

“Yet,” Robin teases, grinning.

She laughs as Mal swats her hand at his arm. “Don’t do that. Dinner was lovely.”

“It was,” he agrees, looking between them. “I always love your lasagna.”

Regina’s eyes roll as she steps toward them, grabbing them each by the hand and tugging them toward her. “And what would the two of you say to a nightcap?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t--”

“Mal, you had a half a glass of wine,” Regina cuts in. “And so what if you get a little tipsy? We’re in for the night.”

Biting down on her lip Mal’s eyes shift between them. “I’m struggling to make good choices sober these days, so--”

Robin’s arm slips around her waist and Regina's thumb rubs gently at the back of her wrist. “Is… is this about what I walked in on this afternoon?’

Mal sighs, and she can see her struggling--wanting to pull back and away from them, but not enough to actually do it. “I shouldn't let things… get so…” Her voice trails off and her eyes press closed momentarily. “It’s just hard to…” Her eyes open and she shrugs as her eyes drop down to Regina’s fingers pressing gently at her skin. “To be with the two of you, but not be with the two of you.”

“Who says you can’t?” Robin asks, his voice soft and sweet. “Why can’t you… indulge a little? We’re all willing participants.”

“I got carried away this afternoon,” Mal says, averting the question. “And the other day in your office, and… then in the kitchen. I need to do better about--”

“Why not?”

“Regina,” Mal sighs. “We can’t--”

“Why?”

“It won’t work,” Mal tells her with a shrug as her eyes fall away, focusing again on Regina’s fingers rubbing gently at her wrist. “When this is all over--”

“You’re going to leave again.”

“I have to,” she says simply. “I just… hope I have a choice in where I end up.”

“And you can’t choose to stay,” Robin asks as his arm slips around her waist and he draws her back against him--and Regina smile as she watches Mal lean into him. “What if you chose to stay here?”

“That’d be too complicated. It’s… it’s why I left in the first place.”

“Mal…”

“I was always going to marry him, Regina,” Mal says, looking back up at her and letting their eyes meet. “It was always meant to be temporary.”

“I don’t agree.”

“Regina, what did you think was going to happen? I didn’t have a choice in marrying him. I had to do it, and--”

“People have affairs, Mal. You were already having an affair. Your marriage would have been--”

“A complication.”

“A technicality,” Regina counters.

“We could have found a way to make it work,” Robin adds. “I… I think we still could find a way to make it work.” Taking a breath, Mal pulls away from both of them, pushing her hand into her hair as she turns her back to them. “I… I don’t think either of us are saying you have to make any permanent decisions, but it’s clear that you want to be here and it’s clear that there are still feelings--”

“Of course there are,” she agrees, her voice small and barely audible. “Feelings don’t just… turn off when they’re inconvenient.”

“Then, let us--”

“It’s not fair,” Mal counters. “It’s not fair to any of us.”

“It seems most unfair to you,” Regina says, her eyes shifting to Robin. “You’re going through a rough time right now, and--”

“There’s a reason I couldn’t have carried on an affair any longer, Regina,” Mal cuts in, her voice stronger now. “It wasn’t just unfair to the two of you, it was unfair to me, too--and every time I left the two of you, it got harder and harder.” She stops and draws in a shaky breath and they can both tell she’s struggling against her tears. “I was teasing myself,” she says, her voice cracking. “I was teasing myself with everything I couldn’t have.”

“And who says you can’t have us? Who says you can’t have us now?”

“It’s… not that simple. You have a family now, and a life, and… I can’t fit into that. I don’t fit.”

“Maybe we could talk about it?” Robin asks, stepping up behind her and pressing his hand to her back. “Maybe we could come up with… something that works for all of us, at least for now.”

For a while, Mal doesn’t respond--and the silence between the three of them is practically tangible. It’s so hard seeing Mal this way. She’d always been so carefree, someone who’d lived in the moment and didn’t regret the things that made her happy--yet now, she seemed so afraid and so convinced that she didn’t deserve those things, that she wasn’t worth the complication.

“For now?” She asks, her voice still small and unsure. “As in… just while I’m here.”

“If that’s all you can handle,” Robin says, his eyes shifting between them. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

“And… at the end of this… if I… if I decide to walk away… then, you’ll both…”

“Respect your decision,” Regina says, nodding as her chest tightens. “As long as the decision is yours.”

Mal nods and draws in a breath, slowly releasing it as her eyes pinch closed. “Okay,” she says. “We can… talk about that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I suppose it… it wouldn’t hurt to, um… talk it out and lay some ground rules.”

Regina grins and that tightness in her chest begins to loosen, replaced by the soft fluttering of hopefulness--and when she looks to Robin, she can see the same hope reflected in his soft grin and sparkling eyes. Reaching for Mal’s hand, she gives her a gentle tug toward the living room.

Robin makes them cocktails--bourbon, club soda and a little lime, once a favorite of theirs--and Mal sits down in an armchair beside the couch, maintaining some distance as Robin sits down beside Regina.

For a few long seconds, it seems that no one knows where to start--and then, Mal clears her throat.

“So, it seems obvious that you two have discussed this, already.”

“We have,” Regina says, nodding. “A little.”

“We’d have included you, but--”

“No, this is… this is a conversation that the two of you needed to have alone, first.”

Regina’s eyes narrow a little as she looks to Robin, remembering the “dirty little secret” comment from the other day--and she feels an ache settle at her core. “Our relationship isn’t more important than--”

“You two are married,” Mal cuts in. “You were always the couple and I was… the extra one.”

“That’s not how we saw it.”

“It’s how it was though,” Mal say easily, taking a quick sip of her drink. “And now you have children to consider, a family that--”

“That you should have always been a part of,” she replies, her voice piquing defensively as she stares a Mal.

“And could still be a part of, if you wanted to be,” Robin says as his eyes slide to Regina his hand slips over her knee, and a soft grin edges onto his lips as he looks to Mal. “But I think we’re all getting ahead of ourselves.”

“Right,” Regina nods, drawing in a breath. “So, let’s worry about what’s to come later on… well, later on.”

“Okay,” Mal murmurs with a nod. “I… I can try to do that.” She takes another, longer sip of the drink. “And since the two of you have already talked about this, what exactly do you have in mind?”

“Well, in the immediate, we want to be here for you,” Regina’s quick to say. “We want to support you through this.”

“You are,” Mal says, a soft grin, edging onto her lips. “You’re defending me and--”

“I’m not,” Robin says flatly. “I’m doing quite the opposite.”

“Well, you can’t help that,” Mal says with a shrug. “You’ve both been… kind.”

“Kind,” Regina repeats as her brow arches. “I… I think we can all agree that, regardless of whatever feelings we have for each other, we’re friends, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then… let us be your friends.”

Mal’s eyes narrow. “Friends don’t make out on couches or in kitchens.”

“And what about in bedrooms?” Regina asks, her brow arching coyly as Mal’s eyes widen a bit. “Look, we don’t have to put labels on it. We don’t have to make any life-altering decisions. But we can be there for you, in whatever ways you need us.”

“I remember we were both quite good at taking your mind off your troubles,” Robin says as a soft chuckle rises into his voice. “And, I think you could use a bit of that now.”

Mal blinks as she looks between them, slowly shaking her head--and then, she laughs. “So, you… want me to go to bed with the two of you.”

“If you want to.”

“It wouldn’t have to be… sexual,” Regina says, with a shrug. “Unless you want it to be.”

“It could be whatever you wanted it to be,” Robin adds. “We just… want to take care of you and… love you a little bit.”

“When was the last time someone did that for you?”

“Yeah, when was the last time someone rubbed your back until you fell asleep or held you through the night or woke you up with breakfast in bed or…”

“Made you scream with pleasure until you couldn’t think of anything other than how good you felt?”

Again, Mal’s eyes widen. “You two are… impossible.”

Regina grins, leaning forward and touching her fingers to Mal’s knee. “And just so you know, actions speak louder than words, so as much as you protest about not wanting this, you’ve shown us that you do.” She offers a quick little wink before leaning back. “You don’t just… accidentally make out with people.”

Mal’s lip catches between her teeth, and a hint of a grin edges across her lips. “You could… do that with… no strings attached?”

“I think we could see where it goes,” Robin tells her. “And if you decide we aren’t want you want, then we’ll have no choice other than to respect it.”

“We won’t like it,” Regina adds. “But we’ll have to respect it.”

“Just… give it a shot.”

“What? Like a… trial period?”

Regina bites down onto her lip at the unintentional pun--and then, when Mal giggles softly, she reaches for her hand, easily pulling her up from the armchair and down onto the couch between her and Robin. Robin takes their drinks, setting them onto the coffee table and then leans back against the cushions, watching as Regina’s hand slips over Mal’s hip. Momentarily, her eyes meet Robin’s, and they exchange grins just before he leans in, peppering kisses along the crook of Mal’s neck, and when she leans in, brushing her lips over Mal’s, all she can think of is how right it feels to be with both of them this way again--and how much it’ll hurt if they lose Mal all over again.

_____

They didn’t typically go out on dates. Staying in was just easier.

But it was the end of spring, and the weather was finally warming up. The semester was over and the little town that surrounded the university was clearing out as students went home to their families, and even the few who were hanging around to take summer classes had retreated for a small break before their new classes began--and when Mal showed up early that morning announcing that, finally, after two weeks of family obligations that had kept her away from them, she was theirs for the weekend.

And she wanted to do something.

Robin glanced to Regina quickly, scrunching his nose as he looked back to Mal, and his voice was full of regret as he told her that he’d promised to help Grahm move out for the summer. He hated to disappoint her and he hated to sacrifice the limited time they had with her, but Mal just grinned and squeezed his hand and offered a quick wink, telling him she’d let him make it up to her later, and until then, she and Regina could have a girls day. He’d grinned as he turned her attention to Regina-and Regina’s cheeks flushed adorably.

He’d spent the day with Graham and Jefferson, drinking beers, packing up boxes and hauling furniture into Graham’s pickup--and every now and then, his mind would wander to Regina and Mal, and he wondered what they were up to…

When he returned to the apartment, they weren’t there, so he’d retreated into bathroom for a quick shower. A slow smile pulled onto his lips as he plucked a note off of the mirror. It was in Regina’s tight-but-loopy script, telling him to make sure to wash up and put on something nice so that they could go out that evening; and, then in a looser and loopier script, Mal added they had a surprise for him. He laughed softly to himself as he stuck the note on the outside of the door so that the steam didn’t make the ink run, then switched on the water as he undressed and considered all the things a surprise outing might entail…

“Hey you,” Regina says, grinning as her eyes lingering over him as he steps out of the bathroom in only a towel. “As much as I’m enjoying that look, you’ll need to put clothes on.”

Leaning in, he pecks her lips. “Damn. I was hoping I was over dressed.”

“You will be for later tonight,” Mal says, peeking into the room. “But Granny has a pretty strict rule about her customers wearing pants.”

“I thought the phrase was ‘No Shirt, no shoes, no service’. He says, laughing as he pulls open closet door. “There’s no rule about pants.”

“You wanna argue with her?” Regina asks, arching a brow. “Because I don’t, and I like to argue.” Robin grabs a pair of slacks. “No,” Regina murmurs. “The gray ones.”

“The navy ones are…”

Her nose scrunches. “I never took those to the cleaners. They smell… musty.”

“Oh,” he says, shrugging as he watches her grab her curling iron from the bathroom and hold it up so Mal can see it. “This one?”

“Perfect!” Mal tells her as her eyes slide to Robin. “You can’t come out until we say you can, deal?”

He blinks. “Deal.”

Regina giggles as she presses another quick kiss to his cheek as she hurries through the room, and Mal winks as she pulls the bedroom door shut, leaving him amused and perplexed as he gets dressed. He chooses his gray slacks and white button up, and he hears a little squeal escape Mal as he plucks a thin, knitted sweater vest from the hanger, pulling it over his head. He smooths it out as he looks in the mirror, looking at the yellow, blue, and red rows of diamonds as he considers a tie, eventually settling on a French blue one that Regina says brings out his eyes.

Though he can’t quite make out what they’re saying, it makes him smile, and it also indicates that they’re nowhere near ready for him, so he takes his time on his hair, trying to get that front coif just right--something he’s always struggled to do, and something Mal has always teased him about.

Finally, there was a light knock at the door, followed by Mal’s quick giggle--and when he opened the door, his breath caught in his throat as he took in Mal. She was wearing a white dress with big, pink and purple roses. It had a tight pencil-skirt and a tight bodice, and the fabric bunched and criss-crossed over her chest, and dainty little cap sleeves covered her shoulders. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves and her pink lipstick made her smile look even brighter.

“You look--”

“Wait til you see Regina,” she cuts in as she grabs his hand. “We did a little shopping this afternoon, and,” she bites down on her lip. “This dress was made for her.”

She drags him into the living room, and his jaw literally drops at the sight of Regina--she’s absolutely stunning in a red dress with a deep V-neckline and a patch of black-and-white polka fabric covering up her cleavage. The bodice of the dress is tight, hugging her stomach and embellished with six buttons. The skirt flares out at her hips and her feet sit in a pair if low-heeled red-leather pumps--and as his eyes trail upward, she grins nervously, and that’s when he notices the red rose tucked into a twist of her hair.

“What do you think?” She asks, biting down on her bright red lip, touching her finger to a curl pinned up opposite the flower before letting them fall to the flipped up ends. “I know it’s--”

“Gorgeous,” he manages.

“Isn’t she, though?” Mal says, slipping her arm around his back. “Spin around,” she instructs as she hugs herself into his side. “This is my favorite part.”

He grins as Regina’s eyes roll and her cheeks flush a little--and then, she spins, and her skirt flares out and between he can see the black and white polka dot fabric between the pleats. He laughs a little as he steps forward, taking her hand and spinning her.

“So, you like it?” She asks as his arm slips around her. “It’s not… too much?”

“No,” Mal answers. “It’s perfect.”

“I’d have to agree,” Robin says, looking from Regina to Mal as he holds out his hand to her. “You’re both gorgeous… no matter what you’re wearing.” A grin pulls onto his lips as he he looks back to Regina. “But that dress is… just…”

“Stunning,” Mal supplies.

“Yes, stunning.”

Regina smiled--beamed, actually--as she took a step back and looked down at herself. Then, taking a breath, she informed him of their plan for the evening. They’d have dinner at Granny’s--burgers and shakes--and then head to the cinema. They’d narrowed it down to two and from there, he could decide--For Whom the Bell Tolls or Madame Curie--and Mal’s brow arched as she leaned in and whispered that the later was a docu-drarma, and he’d chuckled softly and chose the other, much to Regina’s chagrin. Her eyes rolled and her arms crossed over her chest while Mal smiled triumphantly, and when he made a quip about liking Ingrid Bergman’s girl-next-door quality, Mal shrugged and in a low voice added she hoped it was a naughty girl next door. He’d chuckled again, watching as a little grin edged onto Regina’s lips--and a moment later, they were out the door.

Granny whistled at them, teasingly asking if they were going on a date and when Regina’s cheeks flushed and he felt his own shoulders tense up, Mal offered an easy reply about just wanting to enjoy a spring evening in style. It earned a chuckle and a nod from Granny, and she said no more about it.

The theatre was crowded, but they managed to find three seats together in the back corner of the last row, and Robin ordered a too-large bucket of popcorn, covered in too-much butter. Of course, despite their initial complaints from both Regina and Mal, they had no problem eating their share--and somehow, before even fifteen minutes of the movie had played, the bucket ended up in Regina’s lap. She claimed it was because she was in the center and it just made more sense, and when he rolled his eyes at her, she only hugged the bucket tighter.

But his annoyance had been short-lived because mid-way through the movie, Regina pulled up the arm rest and pulled his arm around her shoulders before cuddling into his side, and when he looked over at her, his grin only brightened at the sight of Mal’s head on Regina’s shoulder and Regina’s fingers twisting a blonde curl absently as they both watched the screen intently.

They waited until the theatre cleared out and took their time, walking slowly through the uncrowded streets. His arm was loose around Regina’s waist and her head was pressed against his arm, and after a quick, look around, he reached for Mal’s hand, lacing his fingers through hers. And when her brows arched in response, he’d looked around quickly again before pressing a quick kiss to her forehead as Regina giggled.

_____

Robin rubs at his temples.

He has a headache, his jaw is tight and he can feel heat rising up the back of his neck as he makes yet another feeble attempt to piece together some sort of defense for Stefan Perrault--or rather, the reasons Mal should go to prison for what she did to him.

And he can’t--and if this were any other case, he’d have walked away weeks ago because aside from his feelings for Mal, but because of the absurd amount of evidence that pointed to her acting in self-defense.

The state didn’t have a case. He didn’t have a case. That should have been the end of it.

His head falls back against his chair, he closes his eyes, thinking of the last few nights with Mal. He thinks about how unsure she’d been that first night that he and Regina invited her to sleep in their bed, and how as soon as the lights were off and they were all in bed, how she’d melted into their touch. The two nights that followed were easier, and the night before she’d initiated a kiss goodnight with both of them. That morning he’d woken up and found Regina lying on her side, stroking her fingers gently though Mal’s hair. The look on her face was a mix of emotions, ranging from regret to love and everything in between, and in that moment, he so deeply felt what she was feeling.

They’d gone about their morning, falling into old and new routines, and when they finished showering and getting dressed for the day, Mal had fresh coffee and a light breakfast waiting for them. She smiled and she laughed, and when they were leaving, she kissed them goodbye, promising Regina that if a letter came from the boys, she’d call her immediately--and as he left, his chest had tightened at the glimpse into the life that they might’ve had.

And then, he’d gone to work to attempt to craft an argument why such a beautiful soul should spend the rest of her life imprisoned, as if the last decade of her life hadn’t been punishment enough.

“Rough morning?”

Robin blinks, stifling the urge to groan as he looks up to see Gold standing just over the threshold. “The morning was fine,” he sighs. “It’s… the present that’s killing me.”

“Long night?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Sometimes, when you have a long night, the start of the morning isn’t so bad, but then when the day gets going, it gets harder to… properly function.”

Robin’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t have a long night.”

“Not fighting with the wife?”

“Excuse me?”

A sharp laugh escapes Gold as he comes further into the office, nearly sashaying toward Robin’s desk. “Well, it’s just that I’d imagine it’d be a point of contention that your wife has brought home a… guest.”

“My wife doesn’t need my permission to have company,” Robin says, bristling. “Or to do anything else.”

“It must be uncomfortable, though.”

“It’s a big house.”

“Still, to have a murderer under your roof, that’s--”

“Difficult,” Robin interjects, gritting his teeth. “But like I said, it’s a big enough house, so it hasn’t been much of an issue.”

“But meal times--”

“We eat apart,” he says, lying easily. “My wife has never been much of a cook.”

“No,” Gold muses. “The smart ones never are.” He laughs again and Robin swallows back the urge to defend Regina. “So, if your wife isn’t the issue, then, I’m confused.”

“About?”

“Why things are progressing so slowly,” he says, with an easy shrug. “Stefan Perrault was murdered. We have the murder weapon. We have a killer with a motive. This should be easy.” His brow arches and his demeanor changes, and suddenly, Robin feels uneasy. “So, what’s the hold-up?”

“Lack of evidence,” Robin says simply.

“Is that so?”

He nods. “What happened was… unfortunate,” he says slowly, “But to be quite frank, Mr. Perrault seemed like a deplorable human who can’t muster anyone other than his brother to vouch for his character. In fact, when the police did their interviewing, most assumed he had murdered her.”

“Assumptions are often wrong.”

“Perhaps, but this is all fairly cut and dry. There’s just not much to defend.”

“Then it’s a good thing you’re not defending,” Gold tells him with a dismissive shrug, but a pointed glare. “You just have to prove she killed him, and she did.”

“And if I can’t?”

“I’m sure some evidence could turn up… somewhere.”

“Turn up.”

Gold laughs and nods as he turns on his heels. “Let me know if you need a bit of… mentoring, in that regard. I’m sure that between the two of us we could scrounge something up.” He makes a clicking sound with his tongue as he exited, and Robin sat back in his chair, his temples suddenly throbbing.

It hadn’t taken long for him to dismiss himself for an early lunch. He ran a couple of errands and dropped off a parcel to be sent to the boys at camp, and on the way out, he checked their PO box, sighing in expected disappointment when he found it empty. He checked his watched and a grin pulled onto his lips--it was nearly noon and Regina would likely be ordering lunch. Picking up his pace, he hurried toward her office, stopping off at a favorite food cart. He ordered them Cuban sandwiches, loading Regina’s with extra pickles, and a few minutes later, he was knocking on the frame of her door.

She smiles brightly at the sight of him as she flops her legal pad down, and gets up to greet him, grabbing onto his hand and leading him to the couch by the window.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says as he hands her a sandwich. “I told Belle to take an early lunch.”

“Not at all,” she replies. “I’m glad to have you all to myself.”

Chuckling softly, he unwraps his sandwich. “Oh,” he murmurs. “Extra pickles. This one's yours.”

“You remembered.”

He blinks, “Of course I did. You’ve always ordered with extra pickles.”

Biting down on her lip, she looks down at the sandwich and nods and grins.“So, you just… randomly decided to bring me my favorite sandwich and surprise me with a impromptu lunch date.” Regina’s eyes narrow as she looks back to him, his head tipping to the side. None of this is out of the ordinary, or at least it shouldn’t be shocking to her. “The boys wrote, didn’t they? They’re never coming back to us. They’re going to take over a cabin in the woods, and live off the land.”

At that, he laughs out. “No, that’s my not-so-secret dream, not theirs.”

She frowns. “So, they didn’t write yet?”

“I’m sorry, love.”

Sighing, she plucks a pickle from the sandwich. “They’re not going back next year.”

“Regina…”

“I won’t allow it. I miss them too much.”

“You know,” he says, turning himself forward. “Instead of having Mary Margaret Nolan spy on them whenever Neal sends up a distress signal, you could… go with her.”

“But then, they’d… know.”

“Know?” He asks, his brow furrowing slightly. “Know what?”

“That I’m hurt,” she sighs. “And I don’t ever want them to think that I don’t want them to be independent and confident and--” He grins softly as she leans back against the couch and closes her eyes.

Leaning back, he slides his arm around her shoulder. “I miss them, too. And they’ll be home soon.”

“I do like that they’re… well-adjusted and independent.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t sound disappointed about that.” A little chuckle rises into his voice, “Just like I’m pretending I don’t know that you have John checking in on them and sending you reports.” Her eyes widen a little and he presses a kiss to her cheek. “I know it’s not the same though.”

“It’s not the same,” Regina agrees as her arms fold over her chest. “And why else would I have picked a camp twenty-minutes from John’s place?”

“I figured that’s why you were so insistent on that camp.”

“And he’s cool enough to be--”

“Regina,” he cuts in. “They love you.”

“But I don’t know how to tie knots and shoot arrows and pick out berries poisonous or--”

“Regina.”

She draws in a breath and takes a bite of her sandwich, then looks over at him with a frown. “This is really good.”

“It always is.”

“Not just the sandwich,” she tells him. “Having you here is really good, too.”

He nods. “I’ll admit… I’ve missed this.”

Regina’s brow arches and a hint of a smile tugs onto her lips. “Does that mean you’re ready to admit that leaving was a mistake?”

His jaw tightens.

It was a mistake, a mistake he doesn’t see a way out of.

“I thought I was joining the Good Guys.”

“Robin, you joined the District Attorney’s office, not a team of superheroes.” And then she frowns. “Wait, if Gold is a superhero, what does that make me? An Evil Queen?” It’s a joke, and he should laugh. But his chest feels heavy and his stomach is in knots, and he can’t quite muster a laugh. Regina’s face softens and she stretches an arm around him, rubbing her hand between his shoulder blades. “Hey,” she murmurs, tipping her head to better look at him. “Is there something you wanted to talk about?”

“I can’t.”

“Robin…”

“You’re on the opposite side of this, Regina.”

“Ah,” she says with a sigh. “Well, what if you didn’t talk to me as… anything other than your wife, hm?”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“It works however we want it to work.” He sighs and his head falls back, and he so desperately wants to confide in her, as he always had. But this if different and it’s not a matter of how the rules they’ve set in place for themselves and it’s not a matter of simply trusting the other. There are legalities involved--but there’s also a life on the line, the life of someone they both love dearly. “Robin,” she murmurs soflty, pressing herself closer, “what's wrong?”

“I just… regret leaving and now I’m stuck.”

Her eyes narrow. “I thought you wanted to stay.”

“I... did,” he says, struggling to find an explanation. “I thought I could protect her and then… the next one wouldn't be this way and… it’d be like I thought it would and…” He stops, shaking his head as he looks at her and more than anything he wants to confide in her and let her help him come up with a solution. “We really made a great team, didn’t we?” He says instead. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“We could still make a great team, you know.”

“Maybe…”

“Robin, come on. Just talk to me,” she says, her voice insistent and full of concern. “Let me help.”

“I can’t. You, of all people, know that.”

“I’m not saying this as Mal’s attorney, I’m saying this as your wife,” she says as her hand presses between his shoulders. “You’re clearly bothered by something, so tell me.”

A little smile edges onto his lips. “If I tell you, you won’t just be able hear it as only my wife.”

Her eyes darken a bit and her chin tips. “Is… this about Mal?”

He hesitates for a moment and then nods, deciding he doesn't actually care anymore about the rules that are supposed to govern their interactions. “Gold sort of...insinuated that if there’s a lack of evidence against her that we should… create some.”

“Create some.”

“Yes.”

“That’s--”

“Very illegal,” he says, nodding. “I know.”

“Then you need to--” She stops and her eyes press closed, likely coming to the same realization he’d come to a few hours before. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“So, if you were to quit, it wouldn’t just be quitting the case, and--”

“Gold would take over and…” He sighs as his voice trails off. “Who knows.”

“And, I don’t suppose anyone was around to overhear this?”

He shakes his head, “Not a soul.”

“Fantastic.”

“Right.”

“Fuck.”

He sighs, “So, my only option is… to stay and, maybe, try to find proof that’s what he intends to do.”

“Proof,” she repeats, her eyes narrowing. “That’s… quite dangerous.”

He nods. “Or you need some definitive proof of abuse to back-up your self-defense argument.”

Regina’s jaw tightens. “I’m waiting on medical records,” she admits. “There was nothing in her records from New York, but she and Stefan were all over the place. They were in India, at different periods, and then in Paris and London, and… Cambodia and…” She stops. “It’s just so hard to make her talk about it. She clams up and gets so… distant.”

“I know,” he murmurs. “It’s hard to hear her talk about it.”

He watches as Regina’s finger traces along the edge of the toasted crust. “Do you think Leopold paid him or--”

“I don’t know.” He watches as her eyes narrow, and she nods, still absently rubbing her hand against the toast, and he can practically see the wheels in her head turning. “It occurred to me that I’m… in a position to find out.”

“You are,” she says, looking pointedly at him. “Are you willing to… do a little snooping?”

“Are you willing to let me?” He asks, grinning softly. “You typically frown upon my larcenous tendencies.”

“Well, it’s illegal.” Her brow furrows a bit. “And you have a very odd since of ethics.”

Robin shrugs. “It isn’t illegal to… need a pen or a paperclip or, some other miscellaneous office supply, when… say… the secretaries are all out at lunch, and should I stumble upon something…”

“You’ll tell me?”

“I would.”

He watches as her eyes momentarily press closed. “Just don’t get caught.”

“I never do.” At that, her eyes flutter open and she looks skeptical at him. “And if I find out that… he is plotting or… whatever, then…?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” she says, ripping off a corner of the toasted bread. “Until then, we stick to the original plan.”

“We had a plan?”

She nods. “The plan was for me to kick your ass in court.”

“Ah, right,” he laughs, ripping off a corner of his own sandwich. “And this time, I’d gladly let you.”

Her grin warms as she settles back, and he can’t help the soft chuckle that rises up from his chest. “Let me,” she scoffs. “You’re hilarious.”

______

She’d sat in her car, parked just around the block from Robin and Regina’s apartment, trying to compose herself, but it seemed that every time she came close, she’d find herself in tears again. It was a hot June day and the thought of ordering a tall glass of lemonade from Granny’s and settling herself in front of a fan in the apartment was a tempting one, but she didn’t want to ruin their evening.

Robin was making them all dinner--gazpacho, at her request--and he’d spent the day making soup and baking tortillas and smacking avocados into guacamole. She’d supplied the ingredients to make margaritas, and it still made her grin at the way Regina pouted when they put her in charge of securing a baguette to dip into the soup, claiming this was something she’d be good at making and citing all sorts of childhood memories of Latin eating cuisine with her father’s side of the family. It’d been adorable the way that she lit up when she talked about it and it wasn’t long before a light summer dinner turned into a sweet little date night. Robin was confident he could string up some paper lanterns and made the food and she’d been put in charge of securing the necessities for margaritas and some music for entertainment, while Regina was put in charge of desert--a task she took very seriously.

The plan had been she would show up early that day. She’d pick up Regina and they’d head to the library in search of the music and a cookbook that would supply them with a list of what they needed to make lemon granita. From there, they’d head to the market and see what they could find, and hopefully, by then, the soup would be cooling. It was supposed to be lighthearted and fun; they were supposed to be the escape that saved her sanity, and she’d be damned if she was going to let Stefan Perrault and his tantrums ruin that.

Wiping away her tears, she took a long, deep breath and looked into the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her make-up had run--and for the life of her, she couldn’t remember packing her make-up bag. She fished around in her bag for a couple of minutes, biting down on her bottom lip as she realized it wasn’t there and as she put the car into reverse to back out of the space she’d been camped out in, she wondered if she could pass all of this off as a pollen allergy.

And as soon as she walked into Granny’s, she knew that she couldn’t.

As soon as she stepped into the diner, Granny’s brow had furrowed and her head tipped questioningly to the side. She’d tossed down the cloth she’d been using to wipe the counter and rounded to the front of it, offering a warm hug that made it increasingly difficult to stave off her tears. Of course, Granny was no stranger to her fights with Stefan and her family, and though she never pressed for more information than Mal was willing to give, she was soft and empathetic and always knew how to make it better.

Granny offered up three lemonades and when she tried to pay, Granny refused, insisting that this round was on the house--and as she thanked her, a sweet yet sly little grin pulled onto her lips as she leaned in and confessed the batch had more than a splash of gin in it, and if necessary, the whole pitcher could be hers.

Again, she offered her thanks as Granny plunged a straw into one of the glasses and as she sipped the lemonade, she started up the stairs to Robin and Regina’s apartment, reminding herself that what was done was done, and there was no changing Stefan’s mind about anything, and in the end, his opinion hardly mattered. What did matter was what was waiting for her upstairs...

“Hello?” She calls out as she turns the open door knob, drawing in a deep breath and slowly releasing it in an effort to keep her composure. “Robin? Regina?”

“In the kitchen,” Robin calls back, eliciting a slight but genuine grin. “Come try this! It tastes good, but I don’t know if it tastes the way gazpacho is suppose to taste.”

“Then, isn’t that all that matters? That it tastes good?”

“Maybe,” he calls, laughing softly. “But try it, anyway!”

“Okay,” she says, dropping her overnight bag down by the door. “Granny gave us some lemonade. It’s spiked with--” She stops as she pushes into the kitchen and a soft laugh escapes her, when she finds Robin standing in front of the counter, slicing a jalapeno pepper in nothing other than a pair of blue and green striped boxer shorts. “You’re… not dressed.”

“I’m dressed… enough.”

“You’re in your underwear.”

He shrugs dismissively. “Its like ninety degrees and I’ve been cooking all day. It seemed--” He stops as he looks up at her, his smile fading instantly. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” she lies, shrugging dismissively. “Just… pollen and…”

“Mal.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’ve been crying.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head unconvincingly as she tries to sound aloof. “I had the top down on the car on the way over and…”

Her voice trails off as he sets down the knife, turning to the sink and rinsing his hands, and before she can find her voice again or think up another lie, he’s moving toward her. He takes the cardboard cup holder from her and sets it on the counter, and then his arms fold around, drawing her in and holding her tightly. And he just holds her, cupping the back of her head and not asking for details, only offering comfort. He rubs circles against her back as her head falls to his shoulder, and she feels her chest tightening and her eyes burn in an effort to hold in her tears; and when he tells her that it's okay to cry, that he has her and that he loves her, and that she safe there with him, she can’t help but believe him--and can’t but let it out.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “Let’s go sit down.”

Nodding, she pulls back, watching the way he grins--so full of care--as he swipes away her tears and leads her into the living room. He sits back on the couch and she pulls up her feet as she cuddles into him, and for awhile, they just sit together and he lets her cry until it seems she’s cried all the tears she has to cry--and when she pulls her head up, she smiles a bit awkwardly, wiping her hand over his shoulder.

“You’re all wet now.”

“That’s okay,” he says easily. “No harm’s been done.”

“I really didn’t mean to show up here like this and ruin--”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” he says, in a voice that’s so soft and sincere that she nearly believes him. She draws in a breath and nods, watching as he leans forward, and it’s only then that she realizes he brought out on the lemonades with him. “Drink up. It’ll help.”

Nodding, she takes the glass, cradling it in her hands as she leans back and his arm stretches around her shoulders.

It does help, she thinks, as she grins a bit awkwardly over at him.

Or maybe he does.

Or the combination of the two do…

“I don’t suppose you want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” she admits, cradingly the cold glass between her hands. “It’s just… more of the same. I don’t want to bore you with the details.”

“I wouldn’t be bored,” he says in a soft voice with an easy shrug. “If you want to vent, even if it’s something I’ve heard before--” His voice halts as understanding fills his eyes. “Stefan’s back from school.”

“For two weeks.”

“Just two weeks?”

“He failed marketing or… something like that,” she sighs. “He has to go back and re-take an accelerated version course.”

Robin’s brow furrows. “And… this is a bad thing that he won’t be around all summer?”

“He’s upset. He blames me.”

“Because you’re the one taking an unusually long time to finish a degree at a costly university… and you failed an introduction course in your major?”

A little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “Apparently, those two weeks he spent back here, made him fail his final.” She shrugs. “He claims I kept him so busy he didn’t have any study time.”

“From what I recall, you did everything you could to get out of those events. It was your father and his that insisted the two of you attend them.”

“That’s true,” she admits, nodding as she draws in a breath. “But didn’t you know, everything is my fault.”

His jaw tightens. “Is that what he said?”

She nods, shrugging dismissively. “Apparently, because I made him go to all of those stupid events, I made him fail his course, and now I’ve made it impossible for him to take Rose up to the vineyard, like they’d planned.”

Robin’s eyes widen a bit. “Rose, as in…”

“His girlfriend.”

“Right. I… knew that.”

“We got into a nasty fight and…” She sighs, pulling back a little as she releases a shaky breath. She doesn’t want to tell him the details of it. She doesn't want to think about how he’d come into the dining room as her family had been finishing up brunch or the way he smiled at her father and complimented her mother’s dress as he stared at her with hard eyes; and she doesn’t want to tell him how her stomach had dropped when her parents excused themselves, leaving them alone or how he’d waited until they were certainly out of earshot before unleashing his anger on her.

He felt trapped--because of her. Everything he wanted was out of reach--because of her. The life he wanted to have was one he’d never have--because of her. He couldn’t concentrate--because of her. And now, he was disappointing someone he actually loved--because of her.

And on some level, that was true.

Their fathers were business partners and, in an effort to consolidate the families’ fortunes, they needed to marry. She’d inherit her father’s half and he’d inherit his father’s half, and then their child would inherit it all. It was neat and simple, and an utter disaster.

She nearly flinches at the memory of him throwing a crystal glass at the wall and the sound it made as it shattered, just inches from her, before he’d stormed off, muttering something about taking Rose out to lunch to make it up to her.

“You know what? No.” She shakes her head and sniffs back at her tears, and forces a smile. “He ruined my morning, I’m not going to let him ruin my afternoon, too.”

“To hell with him.”

And before she can laugh, Regina steps into the apartment--and an involuntary smile tugs onto her lips. She’s wearing a lavender button up that’s tied just above her navel with short sleeves are rolled up and tied with white ribbons and a pair of too-short white shorts. Her hair is pinned up in a bun atop of her head and she’s carrying an oversized tote bag--and she looks absolutely adorable.

“To hell with who?” She asks, looking between them.

“Stefan.”

She watches as Regina’s jaw tenses. “What did he do now?”

“It’s not important…”

“It is, if it hurt you,” Regina says dropping down her tote bag. “I hate that whenever he’s around--”

“He’s not worth the energy, Regina,” Mal says, with a decisive nod. “It’s too hot and--” She stops, laughing softly. “And quite frankly, I just don’t want to talk about it. I just… want to forget about him and the fight and… everything else for a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” Regina murmurs. “I won’t bring it up again.” She chews at her lip, and for a moment, they all just sit there together in heavy silence--and then, Regina gets up. She grabs her tote bag and grins. “I think we need to get this party started a little earlier.”

“Oh,” she murmurs, holding up her lemonade. “Granny beat you to that.”

But Regina shakes her head as she and Robin exchange curious glances--and then, she can’t help but smile as she pulls a bottle of rumchata from her bag. “When my grandmother was still around, she used to make these milkshakes for my dad that was I never allowed to have.” She grins a bit nostalgically as she looks at the bottle. “My parents always got into terrible fights and sometimes after the really bad ones, my dad would take me and we’d spend a few days with grandparents. That’s when she’d make the shakes. She said they patched up the soul.”

“Just being her--”

“No,” Regina cuts in, shaking her head as she comes toward her, taking her hand and leading her around the couch. “You’re going to go change out of that dress and into something cooler and take a quick shower, and I’ll make us all some shakes.”

Mal watches as grin pulls onto her lips as Robin’s arm slips around Regina’s waist. “I’ll help,” he says.

Biting down on her lip, she looks between them--and she just can’t resist. “With the shakes or with my shower?”

She laughs as his brows arch and he looks to Regina, who grins and nods, then Regina pushes him toward her. “Just be quick. These shakes won’t take too long and--”

“What if I want both of you?”

Regina blinks and a little laugh escapes her as she sets the rumchata down on the end table. “I guess we could have the shakes afterward to cool us down again.”

“Seems like a perfect plan,” Mal decides as she takes her hand and tugs her toward the bedroom, determined to lose herself in them for a bit and forget all about her unfortunate finance and their fight.

______

“I cannot believe how good this is,” Regina says, blinking up at her as she lifts her feet onto the coffee table. “How did you have time to make this?”

A little laugh bubbles up into her voice as she sinks down beside her on the couch. “Well, it’s not like I have much else to do these days.”

Regina’s smile fades a bit and her eyes darken. “You know you’re not supposed to go--”

“Regina, it’s fine,” she says with a sigh. “I needed some are.”

“I understand that, I just--”

“I wanted to do something nice for the two of you,” Mal says, cutting in as her eyes widen. “You’ve been so good to me and--”

“It’s not--”

“Don’t say it’s nothing,” Mal cuts in, her voice rising over Regina’s. “Because it’s hardly nothing.”

For a moment, Regina doesn’t say anything and the silence between them is heavy--and she’s so tired of everything feeling heavy.

“Besides, I enjoy cooking,” she says, attempting to shift the subject.

Regina laughs, her expression changing “I don’t understand why.”

Mal shrugs as she looks down at the little cup of lemon creme brulee. “It passes the time and…” Her voice catches in her throat, trailing off as her eyes meet Regina’s again. “I’ve missed you two, and this lets me do something special, something to repay--”

“You don’t need to repay us.”

“Regina,” Mal says, her brows arching. “This has been difficult for both of you. It’s put you two in a really complicated situation that--.”

“But that’s not your fault,” Robin says, as he sits comes into the living room with a corkscrew and a bottle of wine. “And before you say anymore,” he says, looking pointedly at her as he drives the corkscrew into the cork. “This is not an opportunity to confess anything to me.”

Regina nods, her eyes widening as she looks to her. “You really do need to stop doing that.”

“But I--”

“Mal!”

She laughs a little and settles back, feeling oddly at ease as she plucks one of the candied lemon wedges from the creme brulee, watching as Robin tops off their glasses. Perhaps it’s all the riesling they had at dinner or just the comfort that comes with being close with them again--or maybe it’s a mix of the two--but for the first time in longer than she can remember, she feels comfortable.

That morning, she’d woken up early--still, later than both of them, though, but early enough to catch them before they left for their respective offices--and make them breakfast. It’d been nothing complicated, but she liked doing something for them--and so after they left, for the first time since coming to stay with them, she ventured out of the house. She headed to a little market on the corner and stocked up on vegetables. The woman behind the counter pointed her in the direction of the butcher and the bakery, and on the way, she’d stumbled upon another little marker that sold mostly Italian-inspired groceries. A cute little old man who sold her some fresh noodles and some spices, and by the end of the morning, she had three bags of groceries.

She’d come back to the house and washed the vegetables, chopping them up before putting the chicken into the oven to roast. She opened up all of the kitchen windows and a nice summer breeze blew through as she worked on a cream sauce for the pasta--and it was almost like it was before, or at least, she could pretend that it was...

They’d surprised her by coming home earlier than anticipated.

They’d come into together just before two. Robin helped with the rest of the dinner while she got started on the desert, and Regina busied herself in the with the wine selection, teasing that she was purposefully staying out of the way as to not mess up dinner. After choosing the wine--a light, crisp apple riesling--she set the table and lit some candles.

At dinner, one bottle of wine had turned into two, and when Robin suggested they move into the living room with their deserts, he handed his off to Regina and went to grab a third bottle of wine. She followed Regina into the living room, finding that her head was a bit dizzier than she’d realized and her stomach much fuller; but, her shoulders were relaxed and for the first time in long than she could remember, she wasn’t filled with a sense of dread or worry about what would come next.

Robin flicked on the record player just before sitting down with them and Regina handed him her desert before swinging her legs up over his lap. Mal watched as he rubbed his free hand over her legs and grinned at her as her fell back back onto her shoulder, with little hesitation, Mal tilted her head to rest gently against Regina’s.

“I love her voice,” Regina murmured absently, as she dragged her spoon through the creme brulee.

“You always have.”

“Mm, do you remember that night her concert was played over the radio?”

“The one with Webb’s Orchestra?”

“Yeah…”

“That was a good one,” Robin agrees. “I have… very fond memories of that night.”

A grin pulls onto Mal’s lips--fond memories, indeed.

It’d been raining and she and Regina had been cuddled up underneath blanket, listening to Ella Fitzgerald perform with Chick Webb’s orchestra. It was cool that night, so they’d built up a fire and opened up some wine, and for awhile, they’d just laid together, listening.

It hadn’t taken long before they were kissing, their hands exploring one another--and by the time Robin came in, about half way through the concert, Regina’s hand and was up her shirt and her lips were on her neck. She’d grinned at Robin as her hand slipped into the front of Regina’s panties and she watched they he stood there, swallowing hard as he watched her hand move beneath the blanket, watching as she fingered Regina.

Eventually, Regina held out a hand to him, inviting him over and it hadn’t taken long for him to find his place--and they’d spent the rest of the concert kissing and teasing, touching and keeping the others warm.

“I didn’t want that evening to end.”

“I don’t want this evening to end,” Robin says as he looks between them as a little grin edges onto his lips.

“You look like you have something in mind,” Regina says, licking the back of her spoon and pouting a little at the empty bowl in her palm.

“I do,” he nods, taking the bowl from her and then handing each of them “I was… thinking about this morning and how nice it’d have been to… sleep in a little and…” He shrugs and settles back against the couch cushions. “It’ just be nice to keep drinking and just see where the night takes us.”

Mal blinks as she looks at him,  taking a sip of the wine, enjoying the way the riesling tastes with the lemon in the dessert, and not really thinking much beyond that.

“Can you manage a late morning?” Regina says, her fingers twisting around the stem of her glass. “I know I can, but--”

“Gold probably didn’t even realized that I never came back from lunch.”

Mal blinks again, and this time, her shoulders tense a little. “You.. probably shouldn’t push it with him.”

“The less he and I see of each other, the better,” Robin says, shrugging dismissively as he takes a sip of the wine. “Besides, it’s the end of the week.”

“Still, I don’t want you getting yourself into trouble.” Both Robin and Regina look to her. Regina’s head rises from her shoulder as Robin’s brow furrows. “You’re already treading on thin ice… because of me.”

“Not because of you,” Robin insists. She sighs. It is because of her and her presence in their lives--why else would the District Attorney have any other trepidation about his newest ADA? “Mal, none of this--”

“But is is my fault. I just catapulted myself into--”

“We want you here,” Regina says, cutting in, and shaking her head. “And once you’re free of--”

“What if Robin loses his job?” Mal hears herself ask as her chest tightens. “What if--”

“I have options.” Blinking, she looks to him and from the corner of her eye, she sees a little grin tugging . “When I joined the District Attorney’s office, I had… a very specific idea of what that was going to be like and it’s been somewhat of a disappointment.”

“Sure, but--”

“I wanted to help get justice for people who’d been hurt. I didn’t want to protect men like Stefan Perrault.”

She nods as she feels tears welling up in her eyes, but for the life of her she can’t quite find the words to say what she wants to say. “And if you lose your license?”

“We’ll cross that road when--”

“Robin.”

“Mal, he’s right,” Regina says, reaching out and rubbing her hand over her arm. “There are some things that are far more important to us than our careers, and you are absolutely one of them.”

“But you have a family to--”

“We’d be fine,” Robin says, his voice calm and light, with no indication of alarm or distress. “And there’s no need in worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet.”

“Sure, but--”

“But nothing,” Regina says, her voice as calm as his.

“It’s just, this was… your dream and I’m coming dangerously close to torpedoing your entire life with my--”

Robin shrugs. “It wasn’t my only dream.” He smiles as his eyes shift to Regina, and then they both look back at her. “And recently, I’ve been reminded of just how happy I can be.”

“We both have.”

She looks between them and draws in a shaky breath. There are a hundred reasons she shouldn’t allow this to go any further and there were a hundred reasons that she shouldn’t have reached out to them for support--and yet, as she sat with them now, with them looking at her the way that they were, it was hard to remember any of those reasons. Her throat tightens and her chest flutters. It’s been so long since anyone considered her feelings or made her a priority, and though she disagrees with their choice to do that, she has to admit, it feels good.

“You’re sweet,” she manages. “Both of you are.”

She watches as they exchange a look and then Regina, looks back at her. She swallows hard as Regina twists around and away from Robin, sitting up and downing what’s left of her wine. Robin sits back, taking a sip of his wine as Regina sets her empty glass onto the coffee table, watching as she twists around and places both of her hands on either side of Mal.  “Do you know what this song always makes me think of?”

Mal swallows hard, her heart beating so loudly, she can barely hear the music. “Um, n-no…”

Regina’s eyes focus down on her lips and then slowly, turn back up to meet hers--and a little smile tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “How good you taste.”

Mal feels her cheeks flush and a memory flickers--a memory of that night when they’d listened to Ella Fitzgerald’s concert. She’d leaned back against against Robin, smiling up at him as he bent to kiss her as Regina shifted herself between her legs.

“Come to bed with us,” she says, her breath warm and her voice low. “I wanna taste you again.”

Swallowing hard, she feels herself nod.

Regina’s eyes flash with triumph, the way they do whenever she gets something that she really wants, and she feels herself smile, licking her lips as Regina leans in closer, hovering teasingly close and just waiting--waiting and leaving it up to her.

Robin shifts himself over, one hand rubbing at her arm and the other over Regina’s back, and he looks to her, with that same sweet expectation.

It’s been so long since anyone’s looked at her the way that they are and so long since the decision was her to make, and she’s lost track of the times that she allowed herself to get caught up in even just the fantasy of a moment like this one--and so drawing in a quick breath, she lets herself indulge… just this once.

“Let’s go upstairs,” Robin says, his voice low and husky. “We’ll all be more comfortable.”

Regina pulls back, nodding as she reaches for her hand, pulling her up with her, and before she can even find her footing, Regina’s lips are crashing down onto hers. Her breath catches and her heart flutters as Robin’s hand swipes up her back and his lips settle momentarily at the crook of her neck.

It takes a while, but they make their way to the bedroom, losing articles of clothing as they go.

Robin’s hand presses into the small of her back as he draws her in, kissing her fully on the lips as Regina circles around her, sliding her fingers into the thin waistband of her panties and slipping them down her legs. She steps out of them, not breaking the kiss as her legs hit the back of the bed--and from there, she lets Robin guide her down onto her back.

She can feel his cock pressing into her thigh as he hovers over her, still kissing her as his fingers push into her hair. A little tingle runs down her spine as she feels Regina sit down on the bed, her fingers ghosting up and down her leg as she watches them kiss.

He breaks the kiss and she she sucks in a breath as he rolls off of her, settling at her side, and then as she looks from him to Regina, she can’t help the smile the edges over her lips. Regina’s kneeling at her side on the bed, her hands rubbing slowly over her knees as her tongue swipes over her bottom lip. She looks so sexy in her lacy black bra and her dark eyes are hooded and filled with such a tantalizing mix of lust and love.

Swallowing hard, she pulls herself up onto her elbows as her legs fall open and she watches as a sly little grin edges onto Regina’s lips. At her side, Robin repositions himself, tugging off his boxers and stretching an arm around her shoulders, whispering her for her lean back and enjoy.

So, she does.

She’s already so wet and Regina’s breath is warm--and when her tongue circles around her clit, she practically comes, right then and there.

And Regina knows it.

She looks up at her, grinning before she leans back in, licking the length of her as her fingers knead at her hips. Regina takes her time, her tongue lapping and swirling in a way that’s so wonderfully familiar.

Robin’s finger’s rub gently at her shoulder as he leans in for another kiss, and slowly, she finds herself reaching for his cock. Her fingers wrap around the hard shaft, slowly moving up and down as they kiss, and when Regina’s finger slips inside of her, her breath catches and she moans softly into his kiss--and she feel him smile against her lips.

And for just a little while, everything feels so right.

______

Mal laughs out as Robin pulls her to him, folding his arm around her as Regina rolls onto her side, tickling her neck and shoulder with fluttering kisses--and it’s so tempting to let this go on.

Robin’s hand presses to the small of her back and Regina’s tongue flicks at her earlobe, and again she laughs. “You’re not allowed to leave,” Robin tells her, his voice soft and low. “You’re stuck here with us.”

“I just said I wanted some coffee,” she says. “I was going to come right back.” Regina’s lips slip back to her neck and she draws in a breath as her head falls back, allowing her more access to her. “But…ohh…”

Regina pulls back and Mal turns her head to look at her, pouting at the loss of contact. “Coffee does sound nice.”

Mal grins as she looks to Robin. “It looks like it’s two against one.” She laughs when Robin pouts--and then, he nonetheless sighs and lets her go. “I promise,” she says, looking between them. “I’ll be right back.”

Getting out of bed is a bit awkward, given that she’s in the middle between them both and Robin doesn’t do much to move out of the way--but she manages, pulling the loose sheet along with her and wrapping it around herself. She grins back at them as Robin’s brow arches and Regina cuddles into his side.

“What?”

“You… realize we’ve seen it all before,” he says. “There’s no need to cover up.”

“You two have, but I’m not sure I want to give your neighbors a free show,” she says, tipping up her chin and clasping the sheet just above her chest. “I’m just not that kind of girl.”

Regina rolls onto her side and grins up at her. “You could take my robe, you know.”

She laughs again, she says, shrugging her shoulders as she tucks the sheet so that her hands can be free. “This is more fun.”

Regina’s eyes roll, but Robin laughs and she takes one last look at them from over her shoulder before padding out into the living room of their apartment. She grins as she looks around, noting the wine glasses and dessert plates they’d abandoned the night before, all of them deciding they were simply too tired to clean up.

They’d fallen asleep easily--all of them, tangled together on the bed that wasn’t meant to accommodate three adults yet barely fit into the tiny bedroom of the apartment. She loved staying over, though, despite being a little cramped, and she always slept so much better here than she did anywhere else.

She twists the knob and watches the burner on the stove ignite and then, she reaches for the Moka Pot, a forgotten relic of a long ago family vacation to Italy that she’d found and brought to them when their old coffee maker finally burned out. Quickly, she filled the pot’s bottom and added the coffee grounds to the filter--and then, she sets it on the stove as she opens the cabinet, pulling out three mugs. She taps her feet impatiently as she finds a tray and lines up the mugs, every now and then glancing back to the bedroom with a little grin as she fills a little cup with cream and sprinkles a little sugar into the bottom of two of the mugs, and then some cinnamon into the one she claims for herself.

Finally, after what seems like an absolute eternity, the water begins to boil. She turns off the stove and sets the pot on the tray, carefully lifting it as she makes her way back to the living room--and then her bag catches her eye. She grins a little coyly as she sets down the tray and opens her bag, fishing around in it until she finds her camera--and then, clipping on the strap, she pulls it over her shoulder and lifts the tray and pads back to the room.

A smile draws onto her lips as she enters the room, and she wishes she wasn’t carrying the tray and she had her camera ready.

Robin and Regina are laying together. His arm his around her and her head is on his shoulder, and they’re just staring up at the ceiling listening to the rain. Robin’s playing with her hair and they look so sweet together, so content and relaxed, and it’s the sort of moment she’d love to capture--the sort of moment she could look back on in the years to come, the sort of moment that’d never lose its warmth or ability to make her smile.

The tray rattles and they both look over at her, watching as she comes in and sets the tray on the dresser. She grins at them through the mirror and pours their coffee--careful to ensure that Regina’s is black and Robin’s has just a dash milk and sugar--and she slips the camera onto the dresser, then turns to them, grinning as she shrugs off the sheet.

She can’t help but giggle as their expressions change, suddenly a little more alert and interested, and she hands them their coffee before turning back to the dresser to mix her own--and every few seconds, she can’t help but grin at the way they look at her as they sip their coffee.

Again, it’s a moment she’d love to capture.

Her coffee in one hand and her camera in the other, she turns back to the bed--and Regina’s brows arch.

“What… is that for?”

She shrugs as she sits at the foot of the bed. “I thought it’d be nice to snap a few pictures of us.”

“Of… the three of us?” Regina asks, her eyes going wide. “In bed together.” Mal nods and looks between them. “Pictures that someone would have to develop.”

“Pictures that I would have to develop,” Mal says, gently correcting her as she squeezes her foot. “Don’t worry. They’d be for private use only, of course.”

At that, a grin twists onto Regina’s lips and Robin clears his throat. “For private use, hm?”

Mal’s eyes roll and her shoulders square. “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she says, scolding him playfully. “I just think that it’s quite pathetic that I’ve never taken any pictures of us, especially given that I take pictures of everything.”

“It’s hard to do that,” Robin teases, “Considering the three of us our sitting naked together in bed… and considering what the three of us were doing only an hour ago.”

Mal’s eyes roll, but Regina frowns. “That’s not true,” she says, looking between them. “You brought your camera when we all went ice-skating that one time and when we--”

Mal shakes her head. “And I took pictures of the trees and the rink. The two of you aren’t in a single one, much less the three of us.”

“Oh…”

She bites down on her lip, watching as they sip their coffee--and she finds herself reaching for her camera, and quickly working off the lens cap. Before they even realize what she’s doing, she’s already snapped their first picture--one of them looking so pensive and natural together. When the camera flashes and Robin blinks and his lips part in surprise, a giggle escapes her and she snaps another picture.

It’s not long before she’s set her coffee down on the floor before she’s up on her knees and instructing Robin to put his arm around Regina. He laughs but obliges and without needing to be prompted, Regina rests her head on his shoulder and looks up at Mal, offering the softest little smile for the camera.

Robin bends his head, pressing a kiss to Regina’s hair--and again, she snaps a picture.

She takes a few more--one of Regina laughing and another of Robin pulling her closer--and then, just as she’s about to take another, they both sit up and pulls her down between them. They’re all laughing as she rolls onto her back and she feels Robin pull away the camera as Regina’s hand slides up over her cheek, drawing her into a kiss. She hears the camera lens opening and shutting, and she’s vaguely aware of the camera’s flash as Robin takes pictures of them--and then, just as she’s starting to lose herself in it Robin leans in and presses his lips to her shoulder as he takes another picture.

She lets out a breathy sigh as Regina lips trail away from hers and she blinks a couple of times, watching as Robin hands the camera to Regina, giving her a turn. She can’t help but grin as she turns her head toward him and he pecks at her lips before rolling onto his back and pulling her on top of him. She laughs out and Regina snaps a picture--and then she takes another as Robin sits up and wraps his arms around her back. Her hands rest on his shoulders, and for a moment, all she can do is stare at him with him dimpled smile and messy hair.

“Come here,”  she says, waving Regina over as she takes the camera back and takes hold of her hand. “I want a few of all three of us.”

Robin lays back and Mal rolls to his side as Regina cuddles into the other. His arms are around them and Mal lifts the camera high above them, taking a picture of them just like that--and then, she giggles and tells Regina to kiss Robin’s cheek as she does the same. She takes a picture like that and a few others like it--some looking serious and thoughtful, others with intentionally silly faces and then some completely candid moments.

Mal lowers the camera and looks down at the dial. “Only one left,” she says, frowning as she looks between them. “We should save it.”

“That was fun,” Robin says, reaching for his coffee on the nightstand. “We should--”

“Well, you obviously enjoyed yourself,” Regina cuts in, chuckling softly as her brow arches as she looks down at his lap. “Quite a bit, by the looks of it.”

Mal follows her gaze and grins at Robin’s budding erection. “Oh, come on,” he says, his eyes widen as he looks incredulously to Regina. “You two were all over me, and all over each other. You really expect me not to… react to that?”

Mal rubs her hand over his arm. She licks her lips as her eyes slide to Regina, and she grins as Regina’s eyes shift down to Robin’s cock--and she watches as Mal lowers herself, taking him into her mouth. She grins as she pulls back and momentarily, her eyes meet Regina’s as her tongue swirls around the tip of Robin’s cock and he lets out a low and breathy sigh that’s full of contentment. She sinks back down slowly, her tongue flatting against his shaft--and again, her eyes turn up, watching as Robin’s arm folds around Regina’s shoulders and her tongue parts his lips, and he moans into her kiss.

She watches them for awhile, feeling her own arousal building--and then, before she even realizes it, Regina lifts the camera and snaps the last picture of them. Robin’s eyes widen as he breaks their kiss and Mal pulls herself off of him, her jaw dropping as she looks at Regina.

“What?” She asks with an innocent shrug. “I thought it might be fun to have a sexy one.”

“Did you?”

“Mmhmm,” she says, blinking as she looks between them and a sly little grin edges onto her lips. “These pictures are for private use, aren’t they?”

Mal can’t stop herself from laughing out as Robin’s arm tightens around her shoulders and he pushes her back against the pillows. And when Regina laughs into his kiss, Mal again finds herself smiling a bit wistfully. She knows she can’t keep them and this little world they’re living in isn’t meant to last--and she finds herself wishing that this were another moment she could capture because it’s one she’d like to remember, always.

And then, before she can get too far ahead of herself and worry about things she doesn’t yet have to, Robin reaches out and pulls her to them---and she happily loses herself in the moment with them.

______

He sits at his desk, his thoughts swimming with Regina and Mal, and the past few nights with them.

It’d given him a glimpse of the life he thought was behind them.

When Mal left, it left them in a tailspin, and for months, all he could think about were the things they never said, the topics they always pushed aside. They didn’t have a solid plan for the future. It’d all been stolen moments and living in the present, but they’d all thought about what the future might look like for them--even if it it went unsaid.

Smiling, he looks to the double frame on his desk, one side holds a photograph of Roland and Henry from the summer before, standing on a stump in the middle of the woods up at John’s cabin, and in the frame beside it, a picture of Regina and the boys, sitting by a campfire ready to roast s’mores. They’d spent two weeks there, and he loved it--and so did the boys.

It reminded him on the summer during his undergrad that he’d worked in a state park, and he was glad to share that experience with his sons. They woke up early and went on hikes through the woods, he taught them thing about the animals that lived there and the types of plants that grew there, and they spend their afternoon keeping cool in by lake. They fished and swam, and once the sun went down, they all cuddled up by the fire and told stories.

And, of course, they just didn’t talk about the fact that they were only mile away from a cottage that Mal’s family owned or the happy memories they’d created there years before…

On some level, he now wondered if it’d been that experience summer that pushed him into the change of jobs had been subconsciously influenced by that summer trip and the reminder that once upon a time he’d envisioned himself practicing environmental law. But after graduation, things changed. The jobs that he wanted were scares and the ones available were clear across the country--and year later, he had a child to think about and his priorities shifted. Then, in an odd stroke of fate, Regina’s mother passed away and her trust fund was suddenly available to her; and gladly, he’d agreed to open up a firm.

It was stable, it was lucrative and it allowed him to work closely with Regina, and he’d loved the year they’d spent working together. Their schedule was flexible and it allowed them to be parents, and he was grateful to not have missed out on sons’ childhoods, that he got to play an active part. People always asked them how they managed to raise a family with Regina choosing to work, and he never quite knew how to respond to that, other than to say they’d been lucky--because they had been.

Henry and Roland were growing up to be kind-hearted and thoughtful boys. They were curious and observant, and full of energy and empathy--and everything he did was meant to be an example to them.

Sighing, his head fell back against his chair as he looked away from the picture--and he found a now-familiar dull ache returning to his temples.

And, of course, that’s when Gold knocked on the frame of his door.

“You’re looking awfully pensive.”

“I’ve got a bit of a headache, truthfully,” Robin admits, lifting his head to look at him. “I was hoping to shut my eyes for a--”

“You know,” Gold cuts in, not allowing him to finish. “I’ve been thinking about our conversation earlier this week.” Robin nods as he feels his jaw tighten. “Have there been any.. new developments?”

“No,” he replied flatly. “Still not enough to argue that what happened between the Perraults was anything other than--”

“Robin,” Gold interjects as a low laugh rises into his voice. “From everything I’ve heard about Millicent Perrault, she’s flighty and aloof. Cold and unaffectionate, and not really the sort of person whose grounded in reality, you know?” It takes everything in him to bite his tongue. That isn’t Mal at all. “Surely, there’s something there you can work with.”

“None of those things could make her guilty.”

Gold’s eyes narrow. “Is that what your wife would say?”

“I don’t know,” he lies. “My wife and I are barely speaking these days.”

“A pity.”

He huffs in response. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have.

“So, tell me,” Gold says, leaning in and resting his elbows on the edge of the desk. “What is a day like in the Locksley household these days?”

“Well, for starters, it’s the Mills-Locksley household and…” His voice trails off and he takes a breath, gritting his teeth as he plays along. “It’s tense.”

“Your wife really doesn't understand how the world works.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, it’s cute that she’s been allowed to--”

“No one allows Regina to do anything. She makes her own choices.”

“Mm, it’s just a pity that she doesn’t seem to understand the rules,” Gold says with a dismissive shrug. “And if you don’t play by the rules, then that just can’t end well for her.”

Once more, his jaw tightens.  “Is… that a threat?”

“No” Gold laughs. “You’re mistaken if you took it that way. I just mean… I afraid your wife’s in a bit over her head, and with you not there to help--”

“She’s fine without me. She’s perfectly competent and a damn good--”

“Again, you misunderstand me. This isn’t a dig at your wife. I’m just merely stating the facts. She seems to be working with an idealized version of reality. Guilt and innocence don’t matter here.”

“But it does matter. It’s the whole point of--”

Gold shakes his head. “It’s far more complicated than that.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“But it is,” Gold says easily, clearly unbothered. “Families like the Perraults have a lot of power and--”

“Doesn’t Millicent’s family have--”

Gold laughs before he can finish. “It’s one in the same. She’s nothing without him.” His eyes narrow and he feels a burst of emotion. Mal has never been nothing and though he can’t defend her, he wants to. “Look, I’m not saying it’s fair. I’m just saying this is how it works. The Perraults have been good to this office, to this city and, it’s be a shame for us to let them down when they need us.”

Robin blinks, remember the conversation he and Regina had in her office--and he nods.

Gold wishes him a good day as he rises, reminding him that the clock is ticking and if he needs help with the case, just to ask. It was an odd offer and it seemed, that despite the was he presented himself, he was beginning to panic. It was clear that Leopold Perrault, or someone in the family, was pushing for a conviction, and Gold’s comments about guilt not actually mattering made him think that the Perrault’s knew Mal acted in self-defense. They just didn't care. Protecting their name and their power was more important than an in-law they never wanted and had always been a complication for them.

And though he can’t quite yet wrapped his head around it, he couldn’t help but think that boded well for Regina, and for Mal.

______

Sometimes, Mal is like a bolt of energy--and sometimes, she’s a shock to the system.

For the most part, the time she and Robin spend with Mal has been very planned out with few surprises. That wasn't to say that she wasn’t around a lot, and rarely did a week pass where they didn’t see her at least once; but still, that time was planned around class schedules and the odd jobs she and Robin would do here-and-there for extra cash. They always had to consider Mal’s family obligations and the fiance whose existence they preferred to ignore, and though no one seemed to notice or care whenever she disappeared on a random Tuesday or even for a few days at a time, she was careful not to create a pattern and always provided plausible excuses to account for her whereabouts.

They were careful.

They had to be.

And as much as they hated that, they were used to it.

They’d been caught up in a conversation about the lecture they’d just left and a possible internship opportunity that’d be presented that evening--and of course, it’d been offered to Robin and not her, despite her higher grade point average.

Robin’s initial response was excitement--and then she’d bristled and he felt guilty.

It wasn’t that she wasn't proud of him and it wasn’t that didn't want to him to take the internship; in fact, her annoyance hadn’t had anything to do with him at all. She worked hard to stay at the top of her class and no matter how hard she worked, she was perpetually in a position where she had to prove herself while the others in her cohort, by this point, had earned respect and opportunities that would further their careers and give them experience her hard work could never replace.

Robin offered to turn it down, but that didn’t seem fair--and ultimately, in the end, what benefitted him would benefit her.

Or, at least, that’s what she kept reminding herself of.

“I just… need to take a shower,” she sighs as Robin fumbles with the key. “I’ll be fine after that.”

“No, you won’t,” he says, looking back at her. “And you shouldn’t.”

“Robin, there’s nothing that--”

Her voice halts as the door opens and the first thing she notices is the light--a light she absolutely turned off before class--and then, before she can process that, Mal comes bursting out of the kitchen announcing that she’s glad they’re finally home. She rushes toward them, kissing the each as she takes their books and backs, dropping them off next to her overnight bag that sits on a bench by the door, and then, she grabs their hands, practically dragging them to the couch.

Despite her annoyance, Regina can’t help but laugh as Mal sits down across from them. “I just couldn’t wait,” she says, reaching behind herself on the coffee table and pulling a folder onto her lap--and then her smile fades as she looks between them. “But maybe I should have.”

“No,” Regina’s quick to say, reaching out and touching her fingers to the hem of Mal’s skirt, sitting at her knee. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m just... grumpy.”

“I got an internship offer,” Robin tells her.

“Oh, that’s--” Momentarily, she brightens and then, she fades. “Oh.”

“I’ll get over it,” Regina says, shrugging. “I just--”

“It’s shitty,” Mal says. “You keep getting passed over for--”

“I just need to sulk for a bit. I’ll be fine.” Robin sighs and his lips part as she looks sharply toward him. “But you are not allowed to turned this down. It’s not… chivalrous or… whatever. It’d be stupid and you deserve--”

“And you don’t?”

“Robin…” She sighs, looking between them as she shakes her head. “You turning down an internship doesn’t mean it’d go to me. It’d just go to the next… male.”

“You don’t--”

“I don’t want it like that.” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to be offered something because someone else didn’t want it.” She shrugs. “Maybe this… just wasn’t a good fit for me, you know?”

“It’s still shitty,” Mal says, rubbing her hand over Regina’s. “Can I… do anything?” She grins. “I could go and get some stupidly expensive liquor and have your drunk out of your mind...or…”

“You being here is more than enough,” Regina says as a little smile tugs onto her lips. “Really.”

“Can you stay?” Robin asks. “It’s already late and--”

“My parents took an impromptu trip to Newport. Stefan is… at school, I assume, and my soon-to-be in-laws don’t acknowledge my presence when he’s not around.” She shrugs as a little grin edges onto her lips. “So, I can stay… for a while.”

“A while, I like that.”

“Me, too,” Regina says, her heart fluttering a bit. “And I won’t spend that time sulking.”

“You have every right--”

“No,” she decides, looking to Robin. “I don’t. You’re just as qualified as I am, and,” she draws in a breath as she looks to Mal. “You’re not here enough for me to waste time feeling sorry for myself.”

A little chuckle rises up into Mal’s voice. “I practically live here.”

“Practically isn’t enough,” Regina says as Robin reaching for her hand, tugging her up form the coffee table and down between them on the couch, and Regina catches his grin as she cuddles into Mal. “This helps, by the way.”

“I’m glad.”

Robin settes back and grins over at them. “You were awfully excited when we came in.”

“I’m always excited to spend time with you two,” she says, looking over at him. “But, I developed the pictures we took last week and and they came out beautifully.”

Regina brightens. “Yeah?”

“Wanna see?”

“Of course,” she replies, nodding as Mal leans forward to grab the envelope. “Is the, um… the one I took of me…um…”

“Are you trying to ask about the picture you took of yourself blowing Robin?” Mal fills in, her brow arching. “Because, if so, that one came out, and… it’s one of my favorites.”

“Oh, god…”

Robin clears his throat and grins. “I’m going to need a copy of that one.”

Mal laughs, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I already made the duplicates. This whole envelope is yours. It’s just my favorites, though. A few of them were blurry or… had weird angles…” Shrugging, she looks back to Regina. “So, like I said, I just gave you guys the good ones.”

“The envelope is awfully thick.”

She giggles softly as her finger slips under the flap. “I have a lot of favorites.”

Mal takes a breath as she draws out the stack of pictures, then holds up the first photograph. Regina smiles as she looks at the picture--it’d be impossible not to--and she can’t help but think how perfectly Mal managed to capture the moment, and really, to capture them. To anyone who didn’t know any better, it was a photograph of three friends, posing for silly shots--but when you looked closely, you could see the pillows they leaned back against and though the covers were drawn up around them, their shoulders were bare. They were all smiling brightly, albeit a bit groggily as the sun shined in on the bed--and they looked so happy and at ease.

“And they were.

“But this one is, hands down, my favorite.”

_____

Regina smiles as she looks up from her notepad, watching the way Robin leans against the frame of her door. He looks tired--weary, even--but he’s smiling, nonetheless, as he holds her coffee mug with steam rising up from its top.

“You always did know the way to my heart,” she says as he steps in, rounding her desk as she takes the mug and he presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “I was kind of surprised to get your call.”

“There’s something surprising about me wanting to see my wife?” He asks, cocking his head as sits back against the edge of her desk.

Her brow arches. “Well, no, but in the middle of the day… we’re starting to make a habit of this…” she shrugs. “Not that I’m complaining.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. His eyes narrow as a little grin she can’t quite place edges onto his lips. “I was having trouble concentrating and my thoughts started to drift, and eventually, they ended up back at you.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“What we talked about yesterday,” he admits. “I… haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“About Gold and Leopold?” SHe asks, her shoulders tensing up a bit. She’s been thinking about it too, and the more she thinks about it, the more unsettling it becomes.

“I’m pretty certain we’re right.”

Her eyes widen and heart starts to beat a little faster. “You found something.”

“No,” he’s quickly to say. “Gold’s been in the office all day, so I can’t get in there, but he dropped in for a follow up.”  Taking a breath, his eyes momentarily sink closed. “He basically told me that he didn’t care if Mal was innocent or if it was a case of self-defense, the Perraults had been good to him--”

“They basically paid for his first campaign,” she says. “He owes them.”

“You’ve been doing your research.”

She shrugs. “I still haven’t gotten Mal’s medical records from overseas, so I’m at a standstill. And I can’t just wait and do nothing.” A soft little grin flickers in his eyes. “I don’t want to put her through a trial. She can barely talk about this with me, but I’m trying to mentally prepare for her medical records being a bust.”

“So you’re looking for another angle.”

She nods as her throat tightens a bit. “I-I can’t let her down… and this just going away would be the easiest on… on all of us.”

“That’s what I’d want, too,” Robin says, sighing a bit as his eyes momentarily press closed. “I can’t quite wrap my head around how I’m supposed to argue this.” He shrugs and draws in a breath as he looks back at her. “I sort of assumed that I’d be able to stamp this one shut.”

“Well, you’re supposed to fabricate evidence,” Regina answers with an irritated scoff as she looks up at him. “And take a bribe or two to make yourself feel better about it.” Her brow arches as she looks pointedly at him, her stomach fluttering with emotions she can’t quite place, but feel too unsettling for comfort. “That’s what Gold insinuated yesterday.”

Robin nods. “Right.”

Biting down on her lip, she narrows her eyes at him.

This had certainly gotten messy--messy in ways she hadn’t at all anticipated.

From the start, she’d been worried about Robin’s involvement, but it wasn’t because she thought the District Attorney’s office had a better case, or even had a real shot at putting Mal in prison; and from the start, she’d been confident that she could get Mal out of this and though she didn’t vocalize it, she didn’t actually think this any of this would even go to trial. After all, the more she unearthed about Mal and Stefan’s marriage, the more obvious it became that Mal acted in self-defense, and the more obvious it became that the state didn’t have a case against her.

Robin’s involvement had simply been a complication, though.

She didn't want him to act on impulse or on emotion and get himself into trouble, and she didn't want the Perraults to be able to point at any reason to think Mal had gotten off easy or because the lawyer prosecuting her case had done something unethical. And she knew that if it did go to trial, no matter what he said, there was no way he’d be able to stand up in front of a judge and jury and argue that Mal should spend the rest of her life in prison. He loved her far too much to ever be able to do that, and she worried it’d all culminate in him throwing the case and getting himself disbarred.

There was no doubt, that he shouldn’t be the one handling this case. It was too close to him, too much a conflict of interest, and she’d been annoyed that he wouldn’t hand it over to someone else--and now, she was wondering if his gut-instinct was correct, if staying really had been the right choice.

She was even wondering now, if it’d been a blessing.

“I… think we need to start digging into the Perrault’s campaign donations,” she says. “I can have his financial records subpoenaed. Maybe I can find a money trail.”

“You shouldn’t be telling me that.”

“And you shouldn’t be telling me about private conversations that take place in the DA’s office, yet here we are.”

“Touche,” he murmurs as a little grin edges onto his lips. “Well, since we’re sharing things, Gold should be in court all day tomorrow and I’m pretty sure i can woo the secretaries into taking a long lunch.”

“Yeah, I’m really sure you’ll have to woo them into that.”

“I don’t know that anything’s in his office but--”

“It’s worth a look,” she says, nodding in agreement. “At least it might give us a place to start.”

“Not that you can use any of it court.”

“Like I said,” she says as a little grin edges onto her lips as she reaches out and touches her fingers to his knee, drawing his eyes to hers. “It might give me a place to start. Just… be careful.”

“Always,” he assures her. “Trust me, I have a plan.”

“One that goes beyond sending all the secretaries out for a nice lunch and mistaking Gold’s office for a supply closet.”

“Of course.”

“You know,” she says, leaning back in her chair and looking up at him as she finally takes a sip of her coffee. “This is almost like we’re working together again.”

“Almost.”

“But not quite.”

“No,” she murmurs. “Not quite.” And then, her smile fades. “Do you regret it?”

“Leaving?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. “Working together.”

“No.”

“That was quick.”

“Well, I don’t need to think about it. I don’t regret it.” And then he pauses and again, her heart beats a little faster. “You know, before Gold came in to give me a not-so-veiled lecture me on the importance of Perraults’ power, I was actually thinking about it.”

“Yeah? You want to come? There just so happens to be an empty office next to mine.”

“Right now, you’ve no idea how tempting that sounds.”

“But--”

“I’m not cut out to be a prosecutor. I don’t like this.”

“Well, this case isn’t exactly--”

“It’s not the case. It’s not Mal,” he says, sighing as he shrugs. “Do you remember in law school--”

“You’re thinking about environmental law again?”

“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe.”

“Well, I like that better than this.”

He grins and nods. “Well, we’ll talk about it more once all of this is settled.”

“Robin, if we can prove that the Perraults are trying to pay off the DA’s office and I can prove that Mal really did act in self-defense then…”

“Then this is over.”

“And we can move on.”

A little grin tugs onto his lips. “We should probably talk about what that means.”

“You mean if it involves Mal.”

“It has to.”

“I know,” she nods. “But that choice will be hers.”

“I guess that’s just another bridge we’ll have to cross when the time comes.”

“Until then, we’ll just have to… enjoy what we can.”

He nods, “For as long as we can have it.”

Regina smiles softly as her chest tightened. It’s hard to think about going forward without Mal; and though he hasn’t been back in their lives for more than a few weeks, in so many ways, it was like it always was. Mal was different, but so were they and they all still seemed to click just right--and for the first time in a very long time, she was able to think about what it might be like to have the life she used to envision for them.

But Mal wasn’t there yet; she wasn’t ready for that conversation--and she desperately hoped, that when all was said and done, she’d stick around long enough to have it and she’d make an honest effort of building a life with them. Right now, she only saw barriers, and all she considered was what everyone else would think and feel--and she had to assume that was the result of years spent never being allowed to consider what she wanted, years spent justifying her own horrible circumstances with the hope that her sacrifices would mean someone else’s happiness.

“Regina?” Belle asks, opening the door a crack and bringing both her and Robin back into the present moment. “Mal is here.”

“She is?”

Robin blinks. “She has to stop going out on her own.”

“I know, and I told her that after her little excursion, but--”

“I wasn’t sure if I could let her in.”

“Of course you can,” Regina says as Robin pushes himself off of the edge of her desk. “It’s always okay to send her in.”

Belle nods and a little grin edges onto her lips. “I think she brought you lunch.”

Regina watches as Belle disappears from the doorway and then, a moment later, Mal comes in, smiling brightly--and looking so much like the Mal she fell in love with.

“Oh, you’re both here,” she says, shutting the door behind herself as she walks us to the coffee table to the right of her desk. “I was bored and--”

“You know you shouldn’t go out alone,” Regina says, looking to Robin. “The whole point of you staying with us was to keep safe.”

“Well, initially it was.”

“I know,” she says, smiling a bit guilily. “But it’s hard staying all alone. I get lonely.” She shrugs as she looks between them. “And, I feel like I’m interrupting.”

“No.”

“Never.”

“I am, though, aren’t I? You two were in the middle of something. I’m interrupting.”

“You’re not an interruption.”

Her brow arches unconvinced as she and Robin exchange a quick glance. “We were just… talking about some things.”

“Things that pertaining to me and my… predicament?” Regina nods as Mal fidgets with her fingers. “Is there something I should know? I mean, the two of you talking together about my case…”

She watches as the panic rises up from her hands to shoulders and into her face, and suddenly, all she sees is the terrified woman who’d stood in her office weeks before, pleading for her to help her. With a soft sigh, she smiles, crossing the room and slipping her arm around Mal as she hugs her into her side, and she just can’t bring herself to tell her there’s a possibility that the Perraults attempted  to purchase a life-sentence for her.

“I was telling Robin that I… don’t think the state has a case against you.”

“And the state,” he says, pointing to himself and eliciting a hint of a grin from Mal. “Agrees.”

“But Gold is going to be harder to convince.”

“Ah…”

“I subpoenaed your medical records from the time you and Stefan spent abroad and--” Mal’s eyes widen she feels her tense. “Hey. It’s okay. It’s just--”

“You didn't tell me that you were looking into my medical records,” she’s quick to say. “There’s nothing in them, anyway. Nothing that would prove abuse. He was more careful than that.” Regina sighs as her eyes slide to Robin and she feels Mal draw in a breath. “But I do have something that can prove it.”

Regina’s eyes widen as she looks back to her. “What?”

“Pictures,” Mal says as she pulls away and sits down on the couch behind herself. “I… I took pictures of myself.”

“Oh, Mal…”

“Why didn’t you say--”Regina stops as she turns to her, watching the way her shoulders curl forward and she presses her eyes closed, and she feels her chest tighten. “It doesn’t matter why you didn’t say something about them.”

“I just… hoped you wouldn’t need them,” she admits, looking up and looking between them. “They’re hard to… to look at and… I…”

“Mal,” Regina says, drawing in a shaky breath as she sinks down beside her and stretches an arm around her, rubbing her hand over her back. “It’s okay. It’s over now. That’s all behind you.”

Mal nods, but she looks unconvinced.

Robin crosses the room toward them and she watches as he sinks down on the opposite side of Mal. “You… really took pictures.”

“I… thought I might need them,” she says in a small voice. “I thought... in case…” Regina’s eyes meet Robin’s momentarily and then they both look back to Mal. “I needed them.”

“Needed them?”

“Yeah,” she says simply, her voice still small and her eyes teary. “In case Stefan killed me.”

It’s an obvious reason, but that doesn't mean it doesn’t hurt to hear.

“Can, we, um… can we do it tomorrow, though?” She asks, looking between them. “I just.. I can’t quite…”

“Yeah,” Regina murmurs, hugging her a little closer as her voice trails off. “Whatever you want to do,” she says, her own voice catching as tears well up in her eyes, and she hope that this time, she won’t fail her.

#dragon outlaw queen #doq fic #doq au #ouat au #doq #laws of attraction verse

[artificialqueens]

CuntCracker Chpt 2 (trixya- lesbain ballet au) - pastelcholita

AN - Hello kids! Sorry I’m late, but here’s the new chapter. Enjoy!

Warning for language and crass humour

Katya’s POV

My hand pushed down on the plastic lever, the soft trickling of individual cereals thudding against the styrofoam bowl situated on the plate under the slot. That day had been a considerably dreary day. I had planned to go on a walk before rehearsals, but the dense fog accumulated outside the warm campus seemed eerie. It had also been one of those days where your soul was clouded with a longing for a paternal, yet sensual, relationship; strictly no strings attached, if ya know what I mean.

I removed the bowl from the dark surface, and I moved to my usual table in the cafeteria. Violet, Willam, and Courtney sat in the according chairs, engaged in some odd conversation regarding the lagoon ducks in Central Park.

“Some guy can’t just pick the ducks up in a van, can he? That’s just not ethical?” Courtney asked, searching the other girls faces for an answer. She smiled when she met my gaze. “Oh, hi, Katya! We were just discussing the ducks, ya know the ones in the lagoon?”

“I see…” I trailed off. My mind couldn’t really settle on any one topic, for some reason I had not quite identified.

“No, you idiot, some guy couldn’t just shove them in the back of his pedo van,” Willam added, and had earned a chuckle from Violet.

“She’s right Court. Well about the van at least. They probably just migrate, it’s their nature. Like the fish, they just adapt, I guess,” Vi suggested. I didn’t necessarily agree with any of them, but I just contently stirred my Froot Loops. I didn’t want to admit it, but since auditions I couldn’t seem to get Trixie out of my mind. It was silly and trivial, and I knew it. Trixie was full of potential and still young, like a little pink firecracker. I was simply a jaded ballerina with callused feet. Boy did I sound yellow.

I excused myself to toss my soggy Loops and grab a cup of coffee on the way back. I was staring deep into my coffee, examining each bubble that rose to the top and migrated to the outer edge. Stupid move, I concur. In the process of making my way back to my previously claimed seat, I managed to ram into somebody, splashing my boiling beverage all over their clothes.

“Hey, watch it, you- Katya?” a sharp voice snapped from in front of me.

“Mishka, I am so sorry. Let me help you clean up.” Why did I have to spill my coffee all over Trixie, goddamnit. That day was just determined to be one of the most unfortunate days of my life.

We had hurriedly sauntered over to the paper towel dispenser dabbing her white - might I mention satin - nightie with the paper that seemed to be doing nothing.

“It’s really fine. I have more clothes back in my dorm,” she comforted. I was up to the tops of my ears in guilt.

“Leave it to me to ruin such a pretty dress with coffee,” I spat the word out like it was poison. Trixie laughed at my foolishness. “They don’t call me Cunt-ya for nothing.”

“Who the hell calls you that,” she thrashed.

“That’s King Cunt-ya to you. Well I’ve already messed on you, the least I can do is invite you back to my kingdom,” I remarked overly cheesily, extending my forearm to her. She crossed her own arm under mine, in a square-dance-esque fashion. We walked across the cafeteria like that, occasionally side stepping or shuffling, even adding a few twirls in ever so often.

When we had arrived, I pulled a chair from the adjacent table. “Your chair, m’lady,” I uttered in my most dapper tone.

“Why thank you, kind lady,” Trixie offered. That was probably what I adored most about her; her ability to play along and bounce back with a statement equally as funny. Boy, was I falling for her quick.

We chewed the fat with the other girls for a while, collectively concluding that the ducks probably flew down to somewhere like Florida. Then Courtney went on a tangent on what the fish did when the lake froze over. Trixie shifted forward onto her arms, and let out a guttural yawn.

“Wanna head back to my dorm, sleeping beauty?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I stayed up late in the studio with Missus Davenport practicing aerials and stuff,” Trixie groggily answered. Trixie and I said our goodbyes, parting ways with the other dancers. En route to my dorm, Trixie suggested we stop by her room to get something comfy - and not soiled with coffee - to wear.

She opened the door to her dorm and it was like the both of us were spontaneously transported to a Mattel interpretation of Narnia. Pink pearls had been draped over the curtain rod, creating an illusion of fresh pink snow tendrils fallen from the roofs. Fluffy pink scarves adorned the bed rails, acting as floral tassels to the overstuffed bed. It was truly a spectacular sight, in my eyes of course.

“Kotehok, I greatly appreciate your creative integrity, but why so much pink?”

“Oh, well you see,” Trixie explained while she rummaged through a pile of laundry, “it’s my fantasy.” She craned her neck around to smirk at me from her seated spot on the floor. We exchanged a giggled before she had turned back to sort through the clothes.

I gradually migrate to the bed, plopping down comfortably on the frilly pile of blankets that I had assumed accumulated over the course of a few months. Suddenly, an insurmountable urge to lay my haphazard mane of waves down upon the sea of peachy fluff had overcame me, so I did just that. I slid down onto my back, disappearing like a small child. I began to quietly whisper a tune, quite dorkily actually, now that I think about it…

Trixie’s POV

“-Eka-trina Petrov-a Zamolod-ikova, -ut your da- ju-t calls me…Katya.”

I scaned the room quickly, my eyes darted around the room only to have found two boney feet emerged from a puddle of cushion atop my mattress.

“You rotted cunt,” I laughed. Katya’s head popped up from under a faux pelt. “What are you mumbling this time?”

“You know, the usual, just summoning satan to come have sexual intercourse with my decrepit, senile, womanly body,” she massaged her hands over her core, reaching up and pushing up her ample breasts. She concluded this statement with an assembly of wheezes and flailing arms.

Katya exploded off of the bed, landing in fourth position. “Yekatrina.” She transferred her weight onto her forward foot, lunging into it. “Petrovna.” Katya extended onto releve, releasing the tension built up from her back leg and turning a la second. “Zamolodchikova.” Yekatrina planted her back foot and raised her hands up to her face, almost shielding herself. “But your dad just calls me.” She waggled her fingers about, drawing her hands away from her face. “Katya.”

My mouth dropped open and I wildly clapped my hands “Encore, encore!” Katya rolled down to the floor and planted herself beside me. She reached at my forearm, grasping onto it, leaning into my body. A sort of - how do I explain this without sounding overly gushy and sappy - wave of goosebumps and electricity washed down my back and cusped around my toes. I laughed along with Katya and tried to mask my subconscious shiver.

“What time does practice start anyway?” a voice I had never encountered before questioned.

“Wait, you’re not Russian?”

“Yeah, I mean I’m from Boston,” a new accent coated Katya’s voice.

“Seriously, though,” I deadpanned, “where in the hell are you from?”

“I’m really from Boston. My mother is Russian, hence ‘Yekatrina Petrovna Zamolodchikova.’”

“Ah… It’s in like an hour and a half, around ten I think.”

Katya rested her head on my shoulder. The tenseness slowly began to uncoil and I settled into the half-embrace as well. I pulled my phone down from the countertop that we were situated against, scrolling through twitter with my unoccupied hand. Katya had begun to softly stroke my hair, mumbling something that sounded like, “Good kot,” but I’m still not too sure. I scrolled down to a video of a ballerina from Joffrey absolutely eating shit on stage that Pearl retweeted. I moved to show Katya the video, sure that she would have a heart attack watching it, only to realize that she was gingerly snoring, mouth slightly agape, with her head nestled into the crook of my neck. It was nearly time to start getting dressed in our leotards and sew our pointe shoes for practice, but Katya just looked so fuckin’ precious all curled up. I found myself wishing that this wasn’t going to be a one-time deal. I tried to pry this thought from my head, but it had buried itself deep inside the back of my cranium. I guessed it was going to stay there for a few days before I adjusted to Katya’s strange version of friendship, but boy was I wrong.

#cuntcracker #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #pastelcholita #dancer au #lesbian au #rpdr fanfiction #submission