Regina remained in her seat at the back of the classroom, admiring the way the students lingered to engage Robin further into their discussions. What she really enjoyed was the way he paid close attention to their reactions, taking in each spoken word like his life depended on it. His passion for language and teaching was evident in his demeanor and she felt herself yearning to be closer to him for it.
The students filed out, slowly, but surely. Some of them, continuing a debate about the lecture well into the hallway, could be heard until the door clicked shut. She stood from her seat as the crowd surrounding him dwindled down until they were the only two left in the room. She leaned against the back wall, her arms across her chest and her right leg over her left.
"Bravo, Dr. Locksley," she chimed from her place against the wall. He looked up, recognizing her voice, but was clearly surprised to see her there.
"I didn't expect to see you for another half hour," he said with a smile, clearly happy he didn't have to wait that long. He approached her with his briefcase in his hand, trying to find his next words. "How much did you see?"
"Enough," she replied, allowing him to step closer as she remained pressed against the back of the classroom. "You are spectacular."
"You sound like one of my students," he chuckled.
"Truly," her tone was serious. She wanted him to understand how touched she was by his performance. "I'm in awe of you, Robin Locksley."
"Thank you," he stated humbly. "I appreciate that more than you know."
They stood mere inches apart, breathing each other in. Their thoughts screaming so loudly in their heads they were sure the other could hear them.
She is truly breathtaking.
How can a man be so perfect?
"There is a quaint little Irish pub just around the corner from the admin building. I thought we could go there," he said, his gaze shifting from her eyes to her lips and back up again.
"Lead the way," she smiled.
They strolled down the streets of the Upper West Side walking closely together, consciously assuring that no part of them was touching the other. At first it was a comfortable silence that they shared as they admired the city lights shining in the now darkened sky. They turned the corner just beyond the administration building when Robin finally spoke.
"Why did you sit in on the lecture?" He asked and she turned her head to look at him. By her expression he could tell that perhaps he should have worded that differently or used a different tone. "I'm glad you came. I just wondered what sparked your interest."
"The way we discussed Poe yesterday. Granted I did most of the talking, I could see how much it meant to you to listen and see another perspective. I was curious to see what you had to say about literature. And I have to admit, I was nothing short of impressed."
"You know," Robin looked down at the sidewalk, spotting dried gum and broken cigarette butts. "Your thoughts on 'The Pit and the Pendulum' actually sparked some interest in me. I'm having the students in my morning class on Influential American Writers read it for next week. I want to share your perspective with them and gauge their reactions."
"Really?" She asked, surprised that her opinion had influenced an entire assignment.
"Really," he chuckled in response. "I value your opinions greatly, Regina, and for good reason. You're quite the scholar."
She laughed at his comment. Scholar was pushing it, but she accepted the compliment all the same. They arrived at The Luck O' The Irish Pub and Robin held the door open for her so she could slip inside. She took in the atmosphere with slight hesitation. Regina did not frequent many bars, but the ones she did go to were nothing like this. A few dive bars in her college days and the club where Daniel worked...
No, Regina. Don't ruin this night thinking about that. Daniel would want this for you, she thought and shook the words from her mind.
"Do you think we could sit at a table? I'm not one for sticky bar stools and stale peanuts," she said with a chuckle to which Robin shared.
"Of course. There's one that looks more private back in that corner there. Will that do?"
"It's perfect," she smiled at him, thrilled with his willingness to accommodate her this way.
"What shall it be, milady?" He asked, requesting her drink order.
She thought it over for a moment. Wine seemed so boring and if she wanted that she would have stayed home. But she also wasn't much of a beer drinker. Which left her with liquor. Had she been about ten years younger, she would have asked for a flight of tequila shots and called it a night. However, she was 36, a single mother of a teenager, and on a date with a proper gentleman. Tequila shots wouldn't exactly leave the best impression.
"I'll have a Washington Apple," she replied.
"You have a seat and I'll be back with our drinks," he placed his hand on her shoulder briefly and Regina nodded in gratitude before he walked to the bar.
She slid into the corner booth with the perfect view of the venue. There was a stage toward the back wall for various local bands trying to make it big, but it was empty. It was Monday night after all and not many people frequented bars to start their week. There were small circular tables, each accompanied with two chairs on either side, facing the stage. There was a room off to her right where she could hear the faint sound of cue balls smacking together in a game of pool, men talking loudly, and glasses touching with a 'clink' in some sort of celebratory toast.
She analyzed the structure of the bar next: dark wood with a Celtic design in the molding, matching stools placed along the edge upon the hardwood floors. She noticed Robin leaning his torso against it as he waited patiently for their beverages, his hips tilting back giving her a relatively perfect view of his rear end. He looked in her direction and she felt her face grow hot with embarrassment.
Busted, she bit her lower lip and looked down into her purse, but he simply smiled and turned back to the bartender to pay for their drinks. He seemed to be rather friendly with the large man behind the bar, perhaps old friends or a former student, Regina observed. He leaned over the counter when he took the barkeep's hand in his and wrapped his other arm around him in a hug before striding over to her at the table.
"A Washington Apple for the beautiful lady," he said as he placed the small whiskey glass in front of her. "And Stella on tap for me."
There were no chairs across from the booth and although they could easily drag one over from an empty table, neither of them did. Robin slid into the booth next to her, leaving enough space to be seated comfortably, but not too much where they struggled to hear one another.
Regina leaned down and sipped her drink through the little red plastic straw, closing her eyes as she lived in the taste of it for a brief second. A Washington Apple consisted of Crown Royal Canadian whiskey, sour apple schnapps, and cranberry juice; you really could use just about any kind of whiskey, but if you want it done right you go for the Crown. Robin certainly didn't go cheap because she could tell it was done right. She smiled, pleased with her drink, and looked over at him as he placed his beer back on the table.
"Henry mentioned that you're quite the powerful attorney. Should I be frightened?" He asked playfully and Regina laughed, genuinely enjoying his company.
"If you find yourself plagiarizing a piece of my client's work, then yes. You should be very afraid," she raised her eyebrow, her sultry voice causing the hair to rise on the back of his neck.
"That's an interesting type of law to practice. Copyright infringement, correct?"
"That's part of it. I deal with all of the Intellectual Property clients. So authors, playwrights, composers, inventors; creative innovators of any kind, really. The clients come to me to negotiate and draw up contracts with their publishers, or what have you, but I also file motions for them if their work is being stolen in any capacity. I loved to read so it seemed like the best fit for me," she said before sipping her drink again.
"Fascinating," he replied. He was fully engaged in the conversation, truly curious about the details of her profession. This wasn't just small talk to him and Regina could tell; he wanted to understand her. He wanted to know her. "That doesn't seem like a very popular area. I can't say I've met many lawyers who practice Intellectual Property."
"There isn't a high demand for them and the ones that are out there are the best at what they do. Why hire a schmuck when you can hire me?" She joked, but Robin found it exceptionally funny. She was making jokes. She was laughing. Regina Mills was having fun.
"Anyone who makes that mistake would have to be a real schmuck himself," Robin responded, his smile bright from his dissipating laughter.
"I want to know something about you, Dr. Locksley," Regina leaned closer to him, using her sex appeal to focus his attention.
"I want you to know everything about me," he replied without hesitation, which caught Regina slightly off guard. "What do you care to find out tonight?"
There are a lot of things I'd like to find out later tonight, she thought, biting her lower lip as she admired his handsome face.
"Tell me about your family."
"Well," he took a hearty sip of his beer and said, "Mum and Dad are still alive and well; living in England. Essex, specifically. Roland and I visit once a year during the summer holiday. They travel here for Christmas."
"Any siblings?"
"Actually, you see that chap over there?" He pointed to the bartender who was showing off by juggling shot glasses to compensate for the lack of Monday night entertainment. Regina nodded and he continued, "That's my younger brother, Little John."
"Little John?" She questioned with a chuckle.
"Well, John, but my parents were rather fond of Robin Hood," he shrugged.
"So I'm learning," she said.
"What about you? Care to elaborate on your family tree?"
"No siblings for me. My mother mentioned another daughter, but there was an accident. She never really talked about it much. Mom is alive, traveling the world," she took a rather large sip from her straw, wanting to keep it together when she told him the next part.
"And your father?" He asked and she sighed, straightening her posture.
"He passed about 15 years ago. He was everything to me; my knight in shining armor," she smiled, relieved that the memory of him was happy in Robin's presence rather than sad. He must have felt that she was only willing to share that much on the topic so he switched to something more pleasant.
"So I already know you're a magnificent chef, well-read, and if I dare say it," he leaned in closer, his voice a faint whisper in her ear, "incredibly sexy."
Regina swallowed hard, his breath hot against her neck causing a tightening in her core. Her hands would have been trembling if they weren't gripping her glass so tightly. He leaned back and sipped his beer as if nothing happened at all.
Tease, Regina rolled her eyes and let out the breath she was holding in. I'll show him.
"But I'd like to know what you find fun," he completed his thought finally before she could say anything about his previous actions. "What does the powerful Regina Mills esquire like to do?"
She laughed at his description of her, enjoying the way it sounded coming from him. She thought for a moment. What did she like to do? He already knew about reading. And spending time with Henry, obviously.
"I like yoga. Well, exercise in general, I suppose. I hear people complain about it, but I find pleasure in it," she smiled, pausing to think of other things she liked. "I really like art. I've never been an artist myself, but I appreciate it. I actually picked my apartment because I can see the Met from my balcony."
"The Met, huh? Is it your favorite?" He finished his beer after he spoke and placed the glass toward the center of the table.
"It used to be. I haven't been back in nearly 11 years or so. Unfortunately," there was more sadness in her voice than she was willing to exude. Being vulnerable like this was not something that happened often and when it did, she hated it. She liked to experience these moments in the privacy of her own home, not on a first date.
Is this a first date? Does one drink count as a date or is it just a drink?
She downed the rest of her Washington Apple, not even bothering with the straw, and checked her watch. 8:15.
"What time did you tell Henry to expect you home?" She asked him, remembering that her son was currently babysitting his.
"I told him I'd check in with him when I was on my way, but promised it wouldn't be too late. Perhaps we should get back," he said, looking at her to make the official decision. She certainly didn't want anymore to drink and the feeling of the cool breeze at night in the spring would do wonders for her right now.
"I could use a change of scenery. I'd love to walk through the park. As long as you don't mind," she said and his smile was like magic, his dimples so deep and prominent.
"A beautiful shortcut with a beautiful woman," he quipped. "I'd be delighted."
They gathered their belongings and left the glasses on the table, both looking over at John to wave before exiting the pub. Like a perfect gentleman, Robin held the door open for her and they made their way over to the west side entrance of Central Park.
They carried their bags in their outside hands, leaving the one closest to each other free, just in case. Regina closed her eyes and breathed in the smell of the park. It wasn't the nicest smell, but it was the closest thing to nature they were afforded as urbanites. Robin admired the way she appreciated the world around her, whether she was aware of it or not. She was always so observant of her surroundings; he was certain she could recall even the smallest details of her memories.
"This is what I miss most about England; the open fields and green as far as the eye can see," he said, catching her attention. "I was archery champion all my years at Oxford."
Robin rolled up the sleeve of his spring jacket to reveal his tattoo. Of course, Regina had spotted it before, but she looked down at his forearm anyway as he spoke.
"Mum had the crest made specifically for my uniform. Once I wore it, I never missed. I believed it brought me luck," he said and watched as Regina ran her fingers along the outline of the image. Her gentle touch was electrifying against his exposed flesh.
"Do you believe it still does?" She asked, continuing the pattern on his arm, but looking into his eyes.
"I feel rather lucky here with you," he replied, his words causing her fingers to stop dead in their tracks. "If that doesn't prove it, I don't think anything will."
They lingered there for a moment, Regina accepting his words and Robin studying her features intently. He slid his right hand down her arm to take hold of her left, lacing their fingers together before continuing their stroll through Central Park.
The rest of their walk consisted of small, 'getting to know you' conversations. Robin liked the color green, Regina liked red. He despised American football, or so he insisted, but his favorite team was the New York Giants; Regina's was as well. He discovered she knew Spanish and they had a brief exchange in the language, sharing a laugh at his mispronunciation of certain words.
Before long, they had arrived at the entrance to Enchanted Plaza still holding hands. Robin released her hand so he could retrieve his keys from his pocket and held the door for her to enter. They stood in silence waiting for the elevator, occasionally exchanging comfortable, adoring glances.
They stepped into the elevator, Regina pressing the button for the third floor and Robin standing close beside her, their hips brushing against one another. Their temperatures were rising with each passing floor, silence now venturing further from comfort and more toward passion, desire... lust.
The elevator chimed, signaling their arrival before the doors opened and they stepped into the hallway. Both breathed for what seemed like the first time since entering the building. They walked slowly toward their apartments, anticipating the uncertainty of the events that lie ahead.
They passed Apartment 8 and continued to Apartment 13, stopping so Regina could unlock it. She opened the door and turned to face him, finding he was less than an inch away from her. Their eyes locked, their gaze intense and focused.
"I want to kiss you, Regina," he whispered, his breath hot against her cheek. Her legs were trembling, her heart racing in her chest.
"So what's stopping you?" She whispered back, her voice deep in her throat and the raspiness of it more prominent than ever. His breath was heavy, his desire for her unyielding.
"That's just it," he licked his lips, lifting his hand to push her hair away from her face. "I fear I won't be able to stop."