A/N: Written for Saturday of OQ Angst Fest. Using prompts #14 - Did you think I wouldn't find out? #8 - I don't want to hear it anymore and #2 - Leave me alone.

She's just drunk enough, with just the right amount of liquor coursing through her veins that she's not thinking of her actions, doesn't care what the consequences or implications might be as she corners him in the tiny hallway as they pass each other coming to and from the bathroom. The first time she's seen him all evening.

It's actually all Ruby's fault. And when she's a little bit more sober, Regina might happily blame her sudden outburst on the dark haired beauty. She's the one who'd been teasing Will earlier about his latest fling, to the point that the other man had thrown Robin under the bus, insisting that she go pester him about the lady love he'd been snogging senseless only the night before.

Her vision had gone red, that ugly green monster she's becoming more and more acquainted with the longer their little arrangement goes on rearing its ugly head. She'd done her best to cover her reaction in front of their friends, drowning her sorrows and jealousy in the cheap red plastic cup in her hand.

Now, though... Now he's stumbling out of the loo just as she's in search of it, and Regina can't help herself as the edges of her vision go a little fuzzy and she trips just slightly on the edge of the rug, recovering quickly with little jump and a steadying hand on the frame of the door beside her. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" she questions, no lead up, no explanation, the demand in her voice entirely unwarranted.

They're nothing more than friends. Friends who happen to enjoy sleeping together on regular occasions, sure, but nothing beyond that. Or so they pretend. But she's certainly not his girlfriend, has absolutely no justifiable claim on him or who or what he spends his time doing. She shouldn't care if he kisses every blasted person on this campus if that's his desire. So it's damn inconvenient that she apparently does in fact give a rats ass about it.

Robin startles at the sharp pinch in her tone, reaching out a hand to steady himself against the wall. Those infuriatingly captivating baby blues squinting at her as he answers in confusion, "Regina? What are you talking about? Find out about what?"

It's that, the evident bewilderment to any crime against him, that sends her over the edge. "About your new friend," she spats. "The one you apparently spent the latter half of your evening yesterday shoving your tongue down her throat. In the middle of the Rabbit Hole for Christ sake!" She hates this, feeling like this, the overwhelming degree of emotion over something that should theoretically not bother her in the least. Because they are nothing.

Perhaps if she thinks it enough her stubborn heart will get the memo.

"Belle?" He responds, his speech slurred just a bit and just hearing her name ignites a rage inside her Regina is desperate to quell. Not that it appears to be working. "How do you even know about that? I thought you were studying last night for that Philosophy exam."

Regina let's out a growl in the back of her throat as she sputters, "Does it matter how I know? I do. And I don't appreciate the play by play of your conquests from our friends so maybe you could be a little more discreet next time." She tries to leave it at that, really she does, but the words are seeping out of her before she can shutter them back to be buried in the recesses of her heart. "Did you sleep with her too?"

There's a puzzled expression on his face, a tiny crinkle between his brows as he struggles to work through this little outburst of hers. God, she hopes he's too drunk to remember any of this tomorrow. Wishes desperately that she's too sozzled to recall any of it either because sober Regina Mills would be mortified to realize how deeply she'd let herself become enamoured with this man, to the point of acting like an idiot in the middle of a party. Even if there's no one but Robin here to witness it. drunk

Still, he plays dumb to a degree, muttering, "Perhaps it's all the beer I've had, but I'm confused, Regina. You're upset about me and Belle?" He pauses for a moment, surely turning that over in his alcohol addled min, as if trying to work out some complicated equation. "I thought— I mean— You've never had a problem with me kissing other girls before… We aren't..."

Well she damn well has a problem with it now, she thinks angrily. Except she's not allowed to feel that way, that's not part of the deal, and Regina is far too structured to start changing the rules on him now.

God this is a mess.

She never should have gotten herself into this situation in the first place. Friends with benefits never really works, after all, she should have known better than to get mixed up with him. And they're both drunk, far too sloppy to be having this conversation so she tries to back pedal.

"I don't," she responds defensively, though it's a lie.

Robin scoffs, runs a hand over this face as he shakes his head in what she assumes is an attempt to clear it. "Well, it certainly seems like you do. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous." There's a bit of a rise to his voice at the end, a silent question (and maybe just the tiniest shred of hope, but surely she's just imagined that) she refuses to acknowledge.

Before she can dig herself any deeper, Regina shakes her head and exclaims, "You know what? I don't want to hear it anymore, Robin."

He frowns at that, perplexed as he asks, "What are you—"

"Just leave me alone," Regina near shouts. It's irrational. All of it. And despite the fact some deep subconscious part of her realizes that as she storms the rest of the way into the bathroom, doing her best to ignore the shiver that tingles across her skin as their limbs brush against one another in the tiny space, she can't seem to stop the tidal wave of emotion.

Maybe she should just lock herself in here for the rest of the night to keep her from making an even bigger fool of herself over Robin fucking Locksley.

He can just go fuck himself—and whomever else he pleases—for all she cares.

It was a mistake to start this in the first place.