#really wanted to start making the more complicated gifsets a bit later but FUCKING GOT DISTRACTED AND FORGOR
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beboots
How about Jangobi, with 4, 16, 36, 37?
Thanks for playing! This one is a little bit of a challenge because, as I noted before, this is a ship I don’t really think about unless a particular gifset reappears on my dash and then I think about it for like fifteen minutes. Getting it to work requires changing the plot quite a lot, of course, and I prefer to get the changes going from the very start of their interaction.
4. First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?
Temuera Morrison has noted that at the beginning of the scene, his “hospitable Māori” impulse was to offer Obi-Wan a cup of tea, but since he wasn’t sure they have cups of tea in space he decided to just stick to the script.
So in my version, he does offer him a cup of tea and Obi-Wan accepts and so they sit down with their tea and it’s all rather disarming. Obi-Wan is still highly suspicious of Jango (which is only sensible) and Jango is still playing everything very close to the chest, but the mood is slightly softened by the sharing of tea - and if they’re feeling lavish, biscuits too. Obi-Wan’s head is full of questions, like “What sort of man is this? Ruthless bastard, or perhaps not totally ruthless, given the little boy? Was he involved in an assassination attempt on a rather good friend of mine? What can I find out about all this cloning business from him without letting him know how little I knew in the first place?” while Jango has two main questions, “How much does he know?” and “Am I going to have to do something about him?” And he’d rather not have to do something about him, because he likes the look of him and this kind of cagey verbal game-playing is his idea of a bit of light fun. Then again, he is a Jedi and they generally spell trouble - but there’s no reason not to enjoy being around him while the opportunity lasts.
Oh, and while this conversation is going on, Boba is sitting on the floor nearby playing with his space Lego and every time Obi-Wan glances that way he’s looking daggers of suspicion at him. Obi-Wan actually finds it rather amusing to be glared at like that by a cute little kid (he’s like an angry kitten) so he just smiles back and twinkles his eyes at him (Boba looks disgusted), and asks Jango how old his son is, and they agree that eleven’s a very nice age, before all the teen angst begins.
Jango says calmly, “I’m not expecting to have much trouble with Boba,” and Obi-Wan replies, “Ha! I wasn’t expecting to have this much trouble with Anakin,” so that gets them onto the difficulties and rewards of bringing up a bright and adventurous boy, whether as his dad or as a sort of older brother figure, and sharing stories about things Boba and Anakin have said and done, and before Obi-Wan knows it they’ve been chatting for an hour and he’s got completely side-tracked from finding out about clone skulduggery and has slipped into flirting with Jango fairly shamelessly. Which doesn’t necessarily mean anything, Obi-Wan will flirt with more or less anything that can talk back, but he’s realising that there’s an awful lot of charisma about Jango and he’s beginning to feel fascinated.
So no love at first sight, but in later years (because they do have later years together, Jango doesn’t lose his head) Obi-Wan likes to say, “You had me at ‘cuppa tea?’”
(but he really sealed the deal when he offered him a Tim Tam)
16. Do they keep secrets? Lie? Cheat?
To start out, Jango is keeping all sorts of secrets and lies freely whenever he considers it necessary, or just convenient. It’s only gradually, as he grows to like Obi-Wan personally more and more, that he begins to want to be honest with him. For a while they have one of those “frenemies who encounter one another occasionally and engage in flirtatious banter and/or homoerotic combat” type relationships, but over the course of the Clone Wars as they meet again and again they get into situations where they need to trust and help each other, and Jango has cut ties with the Separatists because he prefers to be a free agent, and Obi-Wan begins to hope that if he had a strong enough personal reason, Jango might want to lay off the shady business and... and there he runs up against the fact that he shouldn’t be thinking in these terms, he can’t have that sort of relationship with Jango any more than he could with Satine, he just really really wants to. And at least Jango doesn’t have a philosophical or ethical problem with violence.
Obi-Wan isn’t actually celibate, he squares it with himself that his flirtations and anonymous hook-ups aren’t deep attachments or possessive relationships and therefore they are within the letter if not entirely the spirit of the rules, and the first few times it happens with Jango that justification works, but it starts to wear thin when he realises how much he misses him after he leaves. When Jango, thinking he’ll surprise Obi-Wan when he unexpectedly sees him in a bar, walks in on one such hook-up, he’s angry and upset and Obi-Wan is rather shocked and thrilled to realise Jango considers this cheating, that he cares enough to have hurt feelings about it. He’d been thinking of himself as emotionally compromised without quite realising Jango couldn’t just take or leave him. That’s really the “Oh” moment for Obi-Wan.
So after a while they’re not keeping secrets from each other, but Obi-Wan is working very hard to keep the relationship a secret from the other Jedi, including his closest friends, and telling a lot of lies in the process (there is at least one comedy episode wherein Obi-Wan is trying to sneak away to see Jango and Anakin is trying to sneak away to see Padmé and each keeps getting in the other’s way without ever realising there is sneakiness on the other side).
Not to mention keeping it a secret from all the clones. Boy, is that a weird situation.
36. What’s their greatest strength as a couple? Their weakness?
They have excellent chemistry and both love sparking off each other, verbally and/or more physically. They always find each other exciting and interesting. Not so much a weakness as an obstacle is the fact that Boba still really doesn’t like Obi-Wan and doesn’t need a stepdad and thinks he has stupid hair (that part really stings). He’s always been the apple of his father’s eye and never had to share his attention with anyone else he really cared about, so his dad actually falling in love with someone makes him feel insecure and jealous and grumpy. Obi-Wan’s attempts to win him over are complicated by the fact that he can’t actually explain to anyone else why he’s trying so hard to be nice to snotty teen bounty hunting prodigy Boba Fett. Boba really enjoys holding this over his head - but will never actually drop the blade because, as little as he likes his dad’s boyfriend, he is just grown-up enough to realise it would really hurt his dad if he spoiled things for them, and he doesn’t want to go that far.
37. How much would they be willing to sacrifice for the other? Any lines they refuse to cross?
That’s the big problem, isn’t it? Crossing lines. Obi-Wan has a very strong moral, religious and cultural code, and he can’t sacrifice that without undoing his whole sense of identity. He can be dangerously complacent about the rightness of the Jedi Order and the Republic it defends and persists in believing that if Jango only understood more about the Jedi he would accept that rightness. From his perspective it often appears as if Jango doesn’t have a moral code at all.
From Jango’s point of view, yes he does, but it’s very pragmatic and based more on principles of loyalty and personal integrity than on adherence to any laws or rules. If he’s true to himself and to the small circle of people he cares about, that’s all that matters. He cannot and will not compromise on his duty to Boba as a father, and that comes before even all those complicated issues of Mandalorian politics - but those issues will inevitably cause problems for them too, particularly given that even if he’s been able to get over his romantic feelings for Satine as his feelings for Jango grew, she’s still one of Obi-Wan’s oldest and dearest friends and he doesn’t want her to be overthrown. And of course Jango is far from the only person who might want to overthrow her.
Somehow all this is going to eventually involve a lightsaber/Darksaber duel between Maul and Jango in the Mandalorian throne room. Holy shit that would be cool. Fuck yeah!
uhhhh I don’t know whether or how any of this gets resolved but there’ll be ANGST and STURM UND DRANG and other German words for heavy shit.
#ask box meme#jangobi#meanwhile Anakin is fucking up his life elsewhere I'm not concerned with making that fit#Maul: KENOBIIIIIIIII#Jango: does this guy know you or something#long post (apologetic)
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starting off on the wrong foot
Merry belated Christmas and happy belated New Year, @reanncee! I was your terribly late Santa! I really am sorry about the tardiness. The holidays got to me in real life and I’m just now beginning to recover and get back to normal.
When we first started talking, you said that you wanted to see Regina and the Flash team up and save Storybrooke. I’m not all too familiar with the Flash - an additional dark mark on me - but after I saw a couple gifsets from Arrow about Thea and Roy, I was inspired. I hope you like your present and, again, I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING SUCH A BAD SANTA.
“I don’t think Lena has her head on straight. You? A manager?”
Regina scoffs and savors the last sip of her coffee before chucking it in a trash bin. That time allows her to collect herself and calmly respond to her friend. “Thanks for having so much faith in me, Emma.”
Her friend rolls her eyes and chuckles. “C’mon, Regina, be real.”
“I am being real,” Regina whines, all but stomping her foot on the city sidewalk.
Emma rolls her eyes again, solidifying the weird friendship between the two of them.
“It’s not that I don’t think you’ll be a good manager,” Emma tells her. “I just didn’t see that coming. I thought you didn’t like the club.”
Shrugging, Regina adjusts the straps of her trusty bag over her shoulder. “I never said I didn’t like it,” she qualifies. “I just said I didn’t like how Lena was running it.”
“So she handed you the reins because she got angry.”
Regina nods. “Pretty much.”
Their relationship is complicated, to say the least: Emma and her half-sister Zelena were frenemies in school, always paired together for school projects and such because they ‘had common abilities.’ How those common abilities translated into Emma becoming a cop and Lena becoming a club owner, no one will ever know.
But with the amount of times Emma came over to the Mills Mansion during school, she and Regina bonded as well and to this day, grab coffee on the off chance that they’re both (a) awake and (b) coherent enough to hold a conversation.
“Well, you’ll have to tell me when you make your first night is,” Emma says, heading across the street. “I want to be there to make your life hell.”
Laughing, Regina responds, “Because you don’t already. Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye out for delinquents like yourself? You know, being an officer of the law?”
Emma flips her hair over her shoulder, saying, “Gotta let loose every once in a while, right?”
Regina laughs even harder, coming to a halt on the edge of the sidewalk as she bends in half with her mirth. Of all the people she’s ever met, Emma Swan is the only person who wouldn’t let her occupational oath keep her from having a good time.
But Regina’s attitude changes in a second when her bag is torn from her shoulder. Not only does it probably bruise her arm, but that’s her bag. The bag that Daniel gave her so long ago, the last physical remnant of their relationship ever existing.
The punk who grabbed the bag is streaking down the alley in a green hoodie, Emma fast on his tail. A small perk to having a friend who’s used to chasing criminals. It’s a huge help because, by the time Regina catches up in her tasteful-not-meant-for-running-but-for-putting-the-fear-of-God-into-people heels, Emma’s got the thief cornered against a dead end chain link fence.
“Give her the purse, ass,” Emma threatens as Regina catches her breath, “and maybe I won’t arrest you.”
The shithead just stares at them for a moment before catching Regina’s eye. He’s older than she thought at first. A man closer to her age than a teenager look for adventure. And his eyes. They’re blue. Not exactly piercing or anything, but blue enough to mentally mention. Softer than she expected, with a story novels long behind them.
The corner of his mouth tips up in a smirk and she opens her mouth to say something – what, she isn’t quite sure, but there’s something about this guy that makes her want to say something – but he bounds off the wall and over the fence like he’s a monkey or a karate kid.
“What the fuck?” she mutters beneath her breath.
The man lands soundly on the other side of the wall after landing a twist a pro-skateboarder would be proud of. Barely glancing back at Regina, he runs off, her purse in hand, as Emma ties in vain to run through the fence after him.
“Dammit,” Emma growls, gripping through the links and shaking. Turning back to Regina, she asks, “Was there anything super important in there?”
Regina shakes her head. “I mean, my wallet and my ID and stuff, but nothing that can’t be replaced.”
“But that bag. It was…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. They both know how it ends and how important it is to Regina. Resignedly, Emma wraps her arm over her friend’s shoulder, ushering her back to the main road. “Come on, I’ll help you file a report,” she says. “I’ll keep my eye out for the asshole when I go on patrol.”
Regina thinks that she nods or gives some sort of verbal agreement, but she’s still stuck on the thief’s upturned smirk and intense eyes. There’s something off about them. Something that screams that he stole her purse from necessity and not desire.
0000
Emma calls her a couple days later, her phone ringing while she’s standing in line at Starbucks.
“We got him,” her friend says by way of greeting.
“What?” Regina asks, trying to balance her cup of coffee, pay the barista, and maneuver her cell between her ear and her shoulder. “What are you talking about, got him?”
“The shit who stole your purse the other day,” Emma explains. On the other side of the line, Regina can hear flipping and shuffling of papers. “One of the deputies brought him in for another case of petty theft. The guy’s called Robin Locksley.”
She nearly drops her latte and her phone in surprise. “Like Robin Hood?” she clarifies.
“Exactly. And he lives up to that name. Steals from the banks, street stores, and it all somehow ends up in the Glades.” Emma goes silent for a second, then sighs. “Even if it’s all illegal, it’s still impressive how much support he singlehandedly brings to the people in the Glades.”
Regina hums. She’s a little distracted, between the people she’s convinced area trying to knock her off her feet on her way to the club and this intriguing conversation. If she doesn’t show up to work before Zelena, her sister will rip her a new one for ‘not being responsible’ even though she’s the one Mother decided to neglect until it was most convenient for her, but that’s Mother’s way.
“So he takes the things he steals and sells them to people out there?” Regina asks offhandedly.
“No, he sells them to the people around Park and Bauer Avenues for higher prices and then takes the money to the Glades. Daycares and the shelter.” She’ll admit, it all sounds very noble. Truly living up the character’s name he bears. Maybe that’s what causes the layers Regina spotted in his glance.
Bu then Emma’s voice pulls her from her own reveries when she says, “He’s still got your purse.”
“What?”
“The purse,” Emma repeats. “He hasn’t sold it yet, or at least that’s what he said.”
All Regina can say is nothing. She’s actually speechless, coming to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. She really shouldn’t care – it is only a purse, after all, she’s got a million of them – but it’s a bit more special because it’s the first Christmas present Daniel gave her. It’s her favorite because of the sentiment that accompanies it: Daniel saved up for a whole year to buy her the gift, skimping out dinners and treats for himself just to earn the heart that was already his. She’s taken better care of that purse than she has some of her own friends, sometimes.
“Regina?” Emma asks. “Are you still there?”
Nodding, Regina begins walking again. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“So what do you want me to do?”
Regina bites at her bottom lip while she deliberates, then takes a sip of her drink in hopes that caffeine might inspire her.
“Okay, this is what I’ve got planned. As a cop, tell me how wrong this is going to go.”
0000
The address comes from Emma, after some pleading and promising that she’s not going to commit murder or anything else illegal. Honestly, after long hours of thinking, all she wants is the purse back. She doesn’t even particularly care if everything inside of its gone – the replacements are already in the mail on their way to her doorstep.
No, Regina ventures to a rundown, shabby-looking duplex on the way to work after a couple days of preparation because she needs to talk with this guy. She doesn’t know him, but if the way Emma spoke about him is any indication, there’s a story behind his theft.
She knocks on the door hesitantly, mentally going through her prepared speech for when Mr. Locksley opens up the door. “Hi, I don’t know if you remember me, but – no, don’t close the door, I’m just here to talk” and the like.
Nobody answers the first time, and then Regina thinks logically about it – it’s about 11 in the morning. In theory, no one should be home. This Locksley fellow was probably at work on the streets, stealing from the rich and bringing it back for the poor.
But she’s surprised when the door opens and she has to look down to meet the person holding it open.
“Hi.” His voice is squeaky, but oddly happy. “Who are you?”
After stumbling over the weight of her tongue, Regina shakes her head and smiles best she can. “I’m Regina,” she says. “What’s your name?”
“Roland,” the little boy responds. He can’t be more than four or five. Obviously, he’s too young to be in the local school system, because those students haven’t been released for the day yet. But maybe daycare or preschool. She can imagine his bouncy little voice and equally bouncy curls atop his head making him a lot of friends in those places.
It’s then Regina hears the heavy thumps of adult male footsteps and the thief with the smirk and the intense eyes appears behind the boy.
“Roland, what have I told you about opening the door without my permission?” he asks.
The boy shrugs. “Don’t do it.”
“Exactly, my boy.” His hand falls to the boy’s hair and ruffles it, gently pushing him away from the door. “Now run off.” Roland runs into the other room and Robin looks up. His face pales when he realizes exactly who Regina is.
“Please don’t close the door on me,” she say quickly, watching as he reaches for the door. “Look, I’m not here to cause any more trouble for either of us.”
Robin chuckles heartlessly. It’s cold and, at least in her limited opinion of him, not suitable. “That’s what they all say.”
“I mean it,” she implores. Taking a deep breath, she skips to the part in her prepared speech that would get to the point. “I’m Regina Mills. My friend told me you still had that bag you took from me. I was hoping I could have it back.” Robin tilts his head to the side in contemplation and confusion. “It’s kind of important to me,” she explains. “You can keep whatever’s it in, I just want the bag.”
He doesn’t say anything for a while, merely looks her up and down. It’s the first time since…well, since before Daniel died that a man’s gaze doesn’t make her skin crawl. It’s not lewd or disgustingly sexual. It looks like Mr. Locksley is trying to figure her out just as she’s trying to do the same.
“May I ask why?” he finally asks.
She hesitates, but ultimately decides to answer truthfully. “My ex-fiancé gave it to me the first Christmas we were together.”
“Ex?”
She nods. “He died a couple years ago.” His eyes widen and Regina shrugs. “Boating accident.”
“Oh,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.” Though she isn’t completely recovered – and, as she reasons with her mother, never expects to be fully done grieving Daniel – Regina waves away his remorse. A hand still on the door, he gesture further into the house behind him. “I do still have it, though I don’t promise the contents are still there.”
“That’s okay,” she says. “I’ve already called and ordered all the replacements. I just want the purse.”
Robin nods. “Alright. Please, come in.”
As he leaves and disappears into the darkness of the house, Regina steps in and closes the door behind her. She can see through the spots of the bookshelf to her left to the living room, where some cartoon entertains the little boy. He’s entranced by it, the lights reflecting back on his face. For a moment, he glances up at her through the spaces and gives her this shy, silly grin that Regina can’t help but return.
Footsteps have her looking forward once more. Robin returns with her purse, a little thinner and worse for wear, but still in pretty much the same condition as when she last had it.
“Like I said, most of the things inside of it are already gone,” he tells her again, “but I think it’s in good enough condition for you.”
When he offers it back to her, Regina takes it in her hands and simply holds it for a second, relishing in the feelings of the little piece of her – the little piece of Daniel she’d lost a couple days ago – coming home.
Before saying thank you, she just has to know why. “Is that why you did it?” Regina asks.
“What?”
She jerks her head toward the noise coming from the other room, of little cartoon characters dancing about on the screen in front of his son. “My purse,” she explains. “Did you do it for him or are you just really intent on living up to your namesake?”
“Pardon?” he asks with a small chuckle.
“C’mon. Robin Locksley?” At his vacant expression, Regina herself chuckles. “You know, Robin Hood? Stealing from the rich and giving it to the poor.”
A smile grows over his lips. “I’m aware, I just wanted to see you struggle through the explanation.”
Sighing, she snarls, “Mr. Locksley-”
“Yes,” he interrupts her. In a quieter voice, he continues, “The only food we had to eat was peanut butter and I wasn’t going to let my boy starve.”
“Do you not have a job to go to?”
“Of course I do, but it doesn’t make enough to pay and it’s the night shift, so Roland ends up spending more nights with the neighbor than with me.” Sighing in frustration, Robin runs a hand through his hand, making it haphazardly fall in every which-way direction. “It’s a catch-22 of the biggest proportions.”
“I can get you a job.” The words are out of her mouth before her filter has a chance to register what she’s already said.
Flabbergasted, Robin stares at her. “Haven’t you heard me, I’ve already got one.”
“You can bring Roland. Even when you’re at your other job,” she says swiftly. And now that she’s actually thinking this through, it makes sense. “The new club down the street, Verdant? My sister’s the owner. I manage. I’m heading there after this.” She’s thinking on her feet, but it could actually work. “You can work the early shifts at the club and I’ll watch Roland in my office. The place doesn’t close until three, so I can watch him until you finish your other shift. There’s a TV and I’m always in there crunching numbers.”
Even as she’s shaking her head, Regina doesn’t know whether this is a very good idea or a very bad one. She looks up and meets Robin’s eyes, a small smile on her face. “We can figure it out.”
But he’s not giving her the same sort of response. Instead of seeming excited, he’s frowning. “While I’m honored, I don’t need your type of charity,” he growls.
“My type of charity?”
“Yes,” he says strongly. “Adopting a poor fellow and his son so you can waltz us around and tell all your rich friends you’re a saint. I’m not subjecting myself to that, let alone him.”
Regina’s jaw nearly hits the floor. “I’m trying to help,” she says simply. Digging through her purse, she manages to pull out an old business card with Verdant’s address on it. She hands it to Robin as quickly as she can. “Look, I’ll talk to my sister tonight. The position is yours if you show up tomorrow at 1:30.”
She doesn’t allow him time to answer, turning around and marching out the front door before he’s fully taken hold of the card.
0000
He doesn’t show up the next afternoon. Or the one after that. Regina doesn’t see him for a week. At first she assumes he’s sick or his son’s sick, but then she sees him on the way to work looking perfectly healthy. His arm is curled across his waist like he’s trying to keep himself warm as he’s drinking from a Styrofoam cup.
She can’t help herself: Regina storms up to him, her heels clacking against the sidewalk. She all but shoves him against the closest building wall, causing him to wince and the drink in his cup to slosh over his hand.
“Look, I’m not doing this for you out of charity, I’m doing it because I want to,” she tells him menacingly. “Do you want your son to grow up in the Glades when an offer like this comes your way?”
“Your highness,” he growls, “that’s not at all -” but his words are cut off by another wince, this one not caused by her own gruffness. Regina watches the arm around his waist tighten with the muscles on his face.
It clicks.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, much more softly and concerned.
“Nothing,” he grounds out. “Nothing’s wrong. Excuse me, I need to go get Roland.”
Robin tries to push her away, but Regina drags him over to a nearby alley and throws his against the wall. Again. This time, he loses his grip on his cup completely, the liquid escaping from its confines and spilling on the concrete.
“You’re going to tell me what’s wrong right now or I’ll call the police.”
“What are they going to do?”
“I don’t know or care,” she say. “What’s wrong?”
Slowly and with much hesitance, Robin lifts up the side of his shirt. Regina would have unabashedly ogled the toned abs he had if it weren’t for the gash up his side. It looks like something sharp – a knife or a scalpel or, hell, even an arrow tip – came from behind and headed into the ground after slicing into him.
“I got into a fight the other night,” Robin tells her. When she looks up at his face, he grimaces. “You should see the other guy.”
“Christ, Robin, what in the world were you thinking?” It’s a rhetorical question because honestly, she doesn’t want to know. Jumping into action, she asks, “Where’s Roland?”
“He’s with a neighbor.”
Regina nods and takes his hand. “You’re coming back with me.”
“What?”
“I’m going to treat this so it doesn’t get infected.”
“No, that’s fine, I really need to get -”
“You’re coming with me.” And that’s the final word on the matter. She sends a quick text to Lena, telling her something’s come up, but she’ll be at the club soon, and drags Robin back to the Mills family home. She’s always the last one to leave, so the house is empty when she walks through the front door, up the grand staircase, and into her private bathroom.
“Sit.” She directs him to sit on the closed toilet lid. “And take your shirt off.”
“Ms. Mills, I really don’t need any help.”
Despite that, he follows her directions with no arguments, but the expression on his face tells her Robin’s got at least 10 different problems with the current situation.
“It isn’t a crime to ask for help, Mr. Locksley,” she scolds him. “Especially when you have no idea what germs and infections you’ve been exposed to in the Glades with a cut like that.”
She’s got peroxide and Neosporin and band aids, but this large of a wound probably needs stitches. Really, she should take him to the hospital, but if he isn’t receptive to coming into her home, she doubts he’ll be any more so to the idea of going to the hospital.
“You know this is going to hurt a lot, right?” Regina asks.
He nods, his face already scrunched up in discomfort. “Just get it over with.”
“You’ll be fine,” she says quietly and comfortingly. She begins dabbing the peroxide on his wound at the same time she presses her lips to his.
It’s nothing like she thought it would be. She expected Robin to have chapped lips, hard and scabbed like his exterior. But they’re soft and he meets her move for move. Regina soon finds herself forgetting to clean the wound and getting lost in him.
When she pulls away, Regina turns away from him and wets another ball of toilet paper with peroxide.
“What was that for?” Robin asks.
She shrugs, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically bashful. “I thought it might distract you from the pain.”
“I should say,” he says on a laugh. “Took my breath away.”
Regina chuckles. She bends down to address his wound again when Robin initiates the kiss this time, curling down toward her and taking her face in his hands.
“You’ll start the bleeding again,” she whispers against his lips.
“Sod it,” he mumbles. His hands come up to frame her face. “If it means you keep trying to distract me like this, then so be it.”
The job should take maybe fifteen minutes. By the time she’s managed to patch Robin up the best she can – a mish-mash of band aids and medical tape coating his side – she’s two hours late for work.
She couldn’t care less.
Leading him – fully clothed – back downstairs, Regina hands him a small slip of paper with her number on it. “If anything hurts, or Roland’s being too rowdy, text me and I’ll try and help out,” she tells him, gently pushing him out the front door.
“Thank you, Ms. Mills.”
“Regina,” she corrects him with a shy grin. “Please, you were half-naked in my bathroom. We’ve reached that point.”
“Of course,” he agrees, a similar expression on his face. “Thank you, Regina.”
“Be careful, Robin.”
“I’ll do my best.” He leaves with a wink.
Regina leans up against the door frame as she watches him walk down the driveway. She doesn’t know exactly why she’s trying so hard for this guy. She reasons that she wants the best for him and his son. Put good into the world and good comes back to you.
And she thinks maybe, just maybe, she can do both with Robin at her side.
#onceuponasecretsanta#ouat ss#reanncee#outlaw queen#oq ff#my words#storytime#IM SO SORRY ITS SO LATE#im a bad santa#this was giving me a lot of trouble#because i wanted to AU thea and roy's entire relationship#but outlining this i got to the end and it was already like 3000 words#I might come back when I've got another free moment and try and continue this#also its been a while since i did OQ so i hope the voices and characterizations are alright#I HOPE YOU LIKE IT DESPITE EVERYTHING :)
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