So this is the final chapter of Pulse Points, but it's not the end of Regina and Robin's journey. Thank you, dear readers, for embracing this AU and taking this journey with me, delays in updating and all. I appreciate all of your reviews, reblogs, retweets and messages more than you can ever know! Also, I'm keeping the verse open-ended, so please feel free to send prompts my way if you like. :)

Also-Happy Birthday, Em! Thank you so much for all of your support throughout the crafting of this story. I dedicate it to you, my friend and sister!

Christ, her feet hurt.

Regina had followed Mary Margaret from Babies R Us to Buy Buy Baby, from Victoria's Secret for some post-pregnancy lingerie, now that the new mom had been given the green light for having sex again, to Barnes and Noble for what supposedly was supposed to be an "in and out" errand. Said errand had morphed into a prolonged search for a children's book that was ironically out of print, followed by coffee in the bookstore's cafe and an impromptu nap for Baby Neal. Her friend had more energy than most new mothers, Regina mused, especially those who'd undergone an emergency C-Section only weeks prior, and she was glad to see Mary Margaret acting more like herself again. She just wished her feet weren't paying the price for her friend's unexpected burst of energy. She took another sip of her Flat White as she snuggled her godson to her chest and rubbed his back, relishing his soft weight and his sweet baby scent as his head rested on her shoulder.

"Alright," Mary Margaret stated, checking her watch as she returned from the restroom and took a final sip of her Frappuccino. "I think we should probably head home now."

"Thank God," Regina muttered, kissing Neal's downy head as she stood. Her knees popped as her lower back protested, making her curse the questionable logic of wearing heels this afternoon. Snazzing up a little on a Saturday after wearing sensible shoes to work all week had been an appealing option this morning.

She should have known better. She'd agreed to go shopping with Mary Margaret, after all.

"Haven't you had fun?" the younger woman questioned, tugging the diaper bag over her shoulder as they made their way towards the exit.

"A laugh a minute," Regina returned, squinting as they stepped outside and sunlight struck her squarely in the face. Her sunglasses were buried in her purse and nigh on impossible to reach with a three-month-old snuggled into her chest. She shielded Neal's eyes with her hand until Mary Margaret opened the car door, allowing her to lay the infant in his car seat and fasten him in securely. "I thought you said we'd be gone an hour or two when you called this morning, not half the damn day."

"Language," Mary Margaret chided.

"He's eleven weeks old," Regina said, clicking her own seat belt into place. "Besides, I've heard you say worse."

"His brain is developing at a rapid rate," Mary Margaret returned. "And I don't want it filled with profanity at such a crucial stage."

"Then keep him away from his godfather," Regina shot back. "Killian would be a gold medalist if profanity were an Olympic sport."

"He's doing better," Mary Margaret argued. "Dating that social worker Emma has mellowed him out somewhat."

"He's about as mellow as a crocodile," Regina said, earning herself an eye roll from her companion. "Are you late for something?"

Mary Margaret's eyebrows shot up.

"No," she answered. "Not at all. Why would you think that?"

"Because you keep checking your watch," Regina stated as they pulled out of the parking lot. "You've been doing that all day, actually. Are you trying to put Neal on a new schedule?"

"Something like that," Mary Margaret said with a smile. "He's sleeping better at night since we started supplementing my breast milk with formula, so we're adjusting his naptimes to help him sleep through the night."

"Something I suggested you do weeks ago," Regina reminded her. "May I remind you that I'm actually a pediatrician and know a bit more about a child's health and development than those lactation blogs you follow."

"I know, I know," Mary Margaret confessed. "And I should have listened to you instead of being so stubborn. He actually slept through the night last night for the first time."

"Who? David or Neal?"

Mary Margaret snort laughed, making Regina chuckle, and they were lulled into a comfortable silence by the sweet melody of Mozart's Cello Sonata in D Major wafting out of the car stereo speakers. The new mother's insistence on playing classical music to support Neal's cognitive development was something Regina actually enjoyed and vastly preferred to her friend's standby collection of Barry Manilow and Air Supply CDs. She paused and looked over her shoulder to check on Baby Neal, his now chubby cheeks still slack in slumber.

"Anyway, the extra sleep seems to be doing wonders for you. Your energy level has skyrocketed."

"It's helped a lot," Mary Margaret agreed, casting her eyes to the clock on her dashboard. "Regina, do you mind if we run through a drive-thru? I'm really thirsty."

"Are you kidding?" Regina asked. "We just had Starbucks."

"I need water," Mary Margaret stated. "I'm starting to get a headache."

"We're only ten minutes from my place," Regina stated. "Can't you wait that long? You can't be dehydrated already, nursing mom or not." She sighed as her friend turned into the McDonald's parking lot and got into the longer of the two car lines. "Did you and David have a fight?"

"Of course not," Mary Margaret replied, eyeballing Regina suspiciously. "Why would you ask that?"

"You just don't seem to be in any hurry to get home," Regina answered. "Especially after we spent twenty minutes in the Victoria's Secret fitting room so you could find something red and skimpy to knock his socks off."

"I'm just enjoying time out of the house," Mary Margaret said. "It's been awhile since I've been able to do this. Besides, you and I haven't had much girl time over the past few months, you know."

This was true enough. Between Mary Margaret being placed on bed rest the last six weeks of her pregnancy, Henry breaking his arm while trying to steal third base, Roland having to get glasses, Neal being a colicky baby, Regina being appointed as head of pediatrics and her increasingly serious relationship with Robin, life had kept them from seeing much of each other over an unseasonably hot summer. She hoped fall would grant them all some much needed down time to catch their breath and reconnect.

"I know," Regina admitted. "And I'm sorry I haven't been able help out more with Neal. Some godmother I've been."

"You're an amazing godmother," Mary Margaret assured her as she pulled up to place her order. "Don't ever doubt that, okay? Do you want anything?"

"From McDonald's?" Regina questioned, scrunching her nose. "No thank you."

"Your loss," Mary Margaret quipped as she proceeded to order a bottle of water and a side of fries.

They traveled home via a roundabout way, Mary Margaret muttering something about avoiding construction traffic Regina knew nothing about as she cranked up the air conditioning yet another notch.

"Still hot natured, I take it?" Regina observed as they finally pulled to the curb in front of her townhouse and parked. Mary Margaret glanced around the neighborhood, absently uttering Yeah before exhaling audibly.

"Don't forget your shopping bags," the younger woman reminded Regina.

"Bag," Regina corrected, holding up her solitary purchase from Victoria's Secret, a sheer royal blue negligee she'd purchased with a certain blue-eyed restaurateur in mind. "I have one. You're the one with a commercial armada packed into your trunk."

"Babies require supplies," Mary Margaret stated. "And diapers take up a lot of room."

"I know," Regina returned as she stepped out of Mary Margaret's Accord. "I have a son, remember? Just don't let that red teddy get lost among all the Huggies." She tossed her friend a wink before shutting the car door and waving, wishing she were brave enough to tug off her shoes here and now rather than waiting until she walked through her front door.

God-putting her feet up sounded like heaven.

The smell of something wonderful struck her as she walked up her front steps, a smell that made her mouth water and her stomach nearly cave in on itself. She hadn't put anything into the crock pot this morning, and she turned, looking to see if Robin's Outback was parked anywhere nearby. It wasn't. He was supposed to have taken Henry and Roland to the Boston College football game this afternoon, and she couldn't imagine that it would be over already, which left her with a problem.

If Robin wasn't here, who the hell was cooking in her house?

She opened the door and stepped inside with caution, stunned into momentary silence by the sights and smells that greeted her. Her house looked like a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie, accentuated by the swoon-worthy aromas of Alonzo's Eggplant Parmesan, Marco's garlic bread and something decadent, chocolate and most-decidedly to-die-for. August and Alonzo stood side-by-side by the stove wearing professional-grade aprons, nodding their greeting as she strolled through her kitchen into the family and dining room area.

Her curtains had been drawn, the main lights dimmed, jar candles and strands of white lights strung haphazardly about now her sole sources of light. Her dining room table was decked out to the nines, covered by a black tablecloth, accented by white napkins and a bouquet of multi-colored zinnias mixed with sprigs of lavender tastefully arranged in a mason jar. She recognized her good china laid out perfectly, a set she'd purchased for herself after her engagement ended years ago, and she strolled towards her pint-sized maître d', a slicked-back, suit-clad, grinning-his-face-off Henry, who stood perfectly erect with a white cloth slung over his left arm.

Her son had never looked more handsome.

"Welcome to the Locksley-Mills Trattoria," Henry stated with a bow. "Your reservation is ready, madame."

Her heart pounded in her temples, her throat now bone dry as Roland strolled to the table and pulled out a seat for her. The curly-headed wonder decked out in a tux was probably the cutest sight she'd ever seen, and she scoped the room, looking for his father, suddenly very aware of what she believed was happening here.

Robin was going to propose. She knew it as clearly as if he'd just popped the question.

But he was nowhere to be seen, not yet anyway, which was probably a good thing seeing that she wasn't sure if she'd be able to form a coherent sentence in her present state. This had to be why Mary Margaret had kept her occupied all afternoon, so Robin and his band of merry men could turn her home into an Italian restaurant that somehow reminded her of the spaghetti scene in Lady and the Tramp.

Dean Martin quietly crooned That's Amore as she let Henry guide her to the table, smiling at Roland's toothy grin as she nodded her thanks and sat down. Roland's over-sized script labeled her place card in bold red marker, and she felt the beginnings of tears form as the boy unfolded her napkin with a flourish and placed it in her lap.

"Would you like some water?" Henry asked as he set down a glass he'd filled to the brim. She took a sip immediately, afraid that if any of them even slightly jarred the table there would be a mess to clean up before the evening had even begun.

"Thank you," she managed, clearing her throat. "This is just what I needed."

"We have wine, too," Roland added. "But Uncle August wouldn't let us pour it for you. He said if we spilled it on your outfit that you'd be really piss…"

"That's enough, Roland."

His voice ran over her senses like warm molasses, making her insides feel sweet and sappy all over. He was behind her, the scent of his Bvlgari Pour Homme Soir making her shiver, his proximity making every nerve ending stand at high alert.

"Good evening, love."

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to her neck, one she moaned into, one that made her legs feel like jelly and her toes curl in her shoes. She turned to look up at him, blown away by how delectable he looked in the dark blue suit he'd donned for the evening. He was gorgeous, this man of hers, all dimples and silver streaks, scruff and toned arms.

"Robin," she murmured, smiling as he sat in the seat across from hers. He took her hand in his own, kissing her knuckles, discreetly nipping one finger the way he knew that she liked. "So where have you been hiding?"

"In the bathroom," he returned with a grin. "I had actually just gotten changed when I heard you come in."

"Good timing," she mused, casting another appreciative look at his attire. "I should probably go change myself. I feel under-dressed compared to you."

"No need. You look perfect," he hummed, her skin vibrating under his words. "You always look perfect, especially when you're undressed."

She rolled her eyes at his play on words.

"I don't think that would be appropriate for the occasion, seeing that we have an audience."

Roland giggled from the kitchen, earning himself an exaggerated shhhhh from Henry.

"Shame," he returned, planting a soft kiss on the top of her hand. "I should have requested a private table."

She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. She just sat there, looking into blue eyes that were staring at her as if she were the Crown Jewels and they a pair of renegade thieves preparing to seize her on the spot.

"Shall I pour you some wine?"

Marco had stealthily made his way to their table and stood there watching them with a ridiculous grin on his face. He held a bottle of her favorite Malbec towards them for their perusal, popping it open with a corkscrew he'd hidden in his inner suit pocket with a flourish. Her heart sped around the room in twenty directions at once, and she sucked in air, feeling warm in some places and chilled in others. She watched Robin as the older man poured the wine, pressing this moment into memory, her gaze honing in on the bare ring finger on her lover's left hand.

Oh, God. This was it. He was really going to propose tonight. She swallowed, picking up her wine glass as she attempted to steady her breathing.

"To us," he said, raising his glass in her direction. His voice wrapped around her intimately, like broken-in leather caressing bare skin.

"To us," she echoed, taking a sip, closing her eyes as warmth slid down her throat and blossomed in her belly. Her chest ached, her head felt heavy, and she took another sip of wine, hoping it would help settle her racing heart, feeling her cheeks overheat instead. Roland chose that moment to lay a basket of bread sticks on the table, giggling again as he walked away and Henry set down a plate of caprese.

"This is nice," she managed, shivering in spite of the warmth when he licked his lips.

"It is," Robin replied, setting down his wine glass. "Pretty perfect, if you ask me."

She smiled at this, picking up a bread stick, hearing her stomach beg loudly enough for all of Boston to hear as the aroma tickled her nose.

"Our best dates always seem to start with your stomach making noises," he teased, reaching out to take a bread stick for himself. She paused mid-bite before chewing, swallowing and taking a drink of water.

"Then it's a good thing you own a restaurant," she shot back. His chuckle made her feel giddy, girlish and lightheaded, and she reminded herself to breathe, to focus, to pay attention to details she'd want to recall later.

"I agree," he hummed. "Seeing as I might never have met you if I didn't. And that would be a tragedy, indeed."

He looked into her, past every defense and barrier, stroking the silken threads of who she was, declaring volumes of adoration without uttering a word. His hand found hers again, and he stroked her fingers with his thumb, paying particular attention to her left ring finger as her breath hitched in her throat. She nearly jumped out of her seat.

Yes. There was definitely going to be a proposal tonight.

She was ready for this, she was certain of it. She loved Robin Locksley with the intensity of a category five tornado, a love so strong she'd once held it in reserve for Henry alone. But Robin and Roland had changed that, had shown her that love shared is love expanded, had helped her feel at home in her own body again, whether that body was out bowling with her favorite boys, washing dishes at the restaurant or wrapping itself around a spent, sweaty naked man who'd just pleasured her beyond reason. Her boys had helped her feel at peace with the heart that beat steadily in her chest, had assisted her in letting go of the last strands of guilt that had kept her from living the life Marian's heart had granted her to its fullest.

She would hold back no longer. No-she would seize this proposal with both hands, would set a date for a small, family wedding as soon as reasonably possible, and would ride her fiancé into the mattress tonight once their boys had gone to sleep.

"God, you're gorgeous."

The words crept up her arms and over her nipples before heading south to tickle her nether regions.

"You're not so bad yourself," she breathed, closing her eyes as he continued to stroke her fingers with his thumb. "And I have to admit, I'm pretty impressed by this set-up."

He gave the room a once-over, nodding his approval.

"As am I," he agreed. "Our boys clean up pretty well, don't they?"

She chuckled under her breath and nodded before taking another bite of bread, its hot, buttery deliciousness only adding to the night's perfection. Did he have the ring in his pocket, she wondered, or was he perhaps planning to have it served up on a plate in front of her at some point during the meal? What sort of ring had he chosen, anyway? Round? Oval? Marquis? Traditional or modern design? Gold, silver or platinum?

Henry and Roland chose that moment to deliver salads, small plates of arugula, spinach, walnuts and pears accented by a vinaigrette of some sort that was profound in its simplicity. Christ, she loved how well Robin's family could cook. She'd have to step up her time on the treadmill once they actually tied the knot.

"This is delicious," she remarked, gesturing towards the salad. Robin nodded as he took a sip of water.

"One of August's specialties," Robin stated. "His own recipe, in fact, one he developed after completing that cooking class in Tuscany a couple of months ago. He's actually as good a cook as Marco and Angelo and could open his own restaurant if he ever chose to do so. Just don't tell the two of them that I said so."

She grinned before taking another bite of her salad.

"It's lovely being around men who can cook so well," she said, taking a sip of wine to steady her nerves. "I could get used to this."

He bit his lower lip, shooting sparks of desire everywhere at once.

"I hope you do," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Because I could get used to a lifetime with you."

Oh, shit. This was it, she thought, nearly tipping over her wine glass as she sat up straighter.

"Could you?" she managed, wondering if her pulse was actually audible.

"Oh, yes," he returned, leaning forward and reaching for her hand across the table. "I most certainly could. Could you?"

She swallowed, nearly choking on her own saliva, and grabbed her water glass to try to stop coughing. Robin quickly stood and walked behind her, rubbing her back until she could breathe freely again.

"I'm okay," she managed, taking another gulp of water. "You didn't have to get up."

"Self-preservation," he retorted. "I was afraid you'd spit water on me."

Water then flew out of her nose as she tried to stifle a laugh, spewing over her beautiful salad, much to her chagrin.

"Don't worry, bella," Marco called from the kitchen. "I'll get you another."

The clank and clatter of dishes danced with the slowing rhythm of her coughs and their ebbing laughter as Robin continued to stroke her back until her breathing steadied.

"There you go," Marco announced as he set down a fresh plate of salad. "Good as new. Now, why don't the two of you continue where you left off, eh?"

She felt Robin's fingers still against her spine just before he leaned down and dropped a kiss onto her temple.

"I believe that requires privacy, Marco," Robin replied.

The older man tossed them an exaggerated wink before tiptoeing back to the kitchen and crying out, "You don't see me. I'm not even here."

Robin moved back to his chair as she adjusted her napkin and checked her dress for water damage, dabbing at the few spots she found.

"Damn it," she whispered as she finally gave up and took another sip of wine. "I certainly know how to kill the mood, don't I?"

He was grinning at her like the proverbial Cheshire Cat, gazing at her with a mix of humor and tenderness that wrapped her securely in its coils upon contact.

"You're nothing if not moody," he returned. "But I wouldn't have you any other way."

Her heart sped up again as her internal temperature ramped up another ten degrees. Shit, she was sweating, a decidedly unromantic aesthetic just before the love of her life was about to pop the question.

Or was he? Was she absolutely certain that was going to happen tonight?

Perhaps she was reading this all wrong-the in-house restaurant, the tux-clad boys, the melodious crooning of Diana Krall in the background as he continued to stare at her as if she could do no wrong. Perhaps this was just a date, and she was setting herself up for one hell of a letdown. Christ, she needed to know, needed to ground her expectations in what was definite rather than what was desired, so she worked up her courage, trying to find the words she needed that would either hurry this proposal along or let her know that an engagement wasn't in the cards tonight.

She heard him swallow and inhaled, breathing out through her mouth as she dove in head first.

"Robin-"

"Regina-"

They spoke simultaneously, chuckling in time with each other.

"I just wanted-"

"I was wondering-"

They paused again, mouths open, eyes curious and confused.

"Please," Robin said. "Go ahead."

"No," Regina returned, shaking her head. "You first. I insist."

He cleared his throat and took a sip of water, his actions prompting her to sit taller as anticipation tickled her skin. His exhale tugged her forward, towards him, towards a future, towards the family she'd always wanted and finally had.

"I was just going to tell you that I'm very impressed with what you've put together tonight," he began, gesturing around the room to emphasize his point. "This took some serious time and effort, and I'm beyond honored that you went to all this trouble for me."

Wait. What?

"Excuse me?" she whispered, certain she hadn't heard him correctly.

"Thank you," he grinned, reaching out to stroke her arm. "For this. For being willing to take a chance on this oaf of a restaurateur and for bringing light back into my soul and life." She breathed in and out, thinking yes-she had misheard what he'd said earlier, or perhaps he'd just misspoken. After all, if he was about to propose, he was bound to be nervous. But then he took a sip of water and said the last thing she expected to hear.

"Whatever else you have planned for the evening, I want you to know that I'm absolutely game."

Her insides froze as her mind ran three steps ahead of her, realizing that she hadn't misunderstood what he'd said moments before.

"What I put together?" she repeated, staring at him in utter confusion. "Robin, I didn't do this. I thought you did." His mouth fell open, and he blinked repeatedly. "Didn't you have Mary Margaret occupy me all afternoon so you could set this up?"

"No," he answered, looking just as baffled by her revelation as she was by his. "Frank kept me busy all day working on a never-ending list of minor repairs to the restaurant. Then he told me you'd called and that it was time for me to pick up Roland at your place, so I showered and came right over, although he insisted that I park around back for some reason."

"Pick up Roland?" Regina repeated. "I thought you took the boys to the football game this afternoon."

"What football game?" Robin asked, looking genuinely perplexed. "I was under the impression that you'd taken them out to the movies. At least, that's what your text said." He proceeded to take out his cell phone and pull up the text message in question to show her.

"I didn't send that," she said, wondering what in God's name was going on here as she stared at a text she didn't write. "But I did get one from you asking if Henry could join you and Roland for today's game." She paused, taking another drink of wine, wondering just how she'd emptied her glass so quickly as her evening spun out of control around her. "I thought you were…"

She stopped, biting her lower lip before her heart toppled out of her mouth and onto the table between them, mortification tasting bitter on her tongue.

"What?" he questioned, leaning forward to take her hand. "What did you think, Regina?"

She inhaled sharply, fighting dueling urges to cry and crawl under the table.

"Nothing," she lied, trying her best to swallow. "I was being stupid, and…"

"You're not stupid, sweetheart."

"You don't know that, Robin!"

"I do know that, Regina, you're one of the smartest people…"

"I'm being ridiculous tonight-Shit! I'm sorry. I need to shut up before I ruin-"

"Did you think I was going to propose?"

Her breath caught in her throat, the room spiraling around her like an off-balance crazy house. Dizziness seized her as he spoke what she'd tried so desperately to hide, and her lungs constricted, making breathing next to impossible.

"Because it's alright if you did," he continued, his voice taking on the texture of honey as he began to stroke her fingers as he'd been doing earlier. "I actually thought you were about to ask me."

Her eyes rounded, her mouth gaping open as words played hard to get.

"You did?" she asked, feeling decidedly hot all over. "You thought I was going to propose?"

"I did," he replied, stroking her ring finger purposefully. "I mean, it's the logical conclusion when you take in all of the factors, don't you think?" He paused, watching her closely until she nodded slowly. "The in-house restaurant, being kept out all day...I can see why you would have thought the same thing."

"You can?"

The words fluttered off of her tongue, weightless yet full of feeling.

"I can," he assured her. He stared into her again, licking his lips as his voice dropped half an octave. "And if you had proposed, I would have said yes, you know."

Her heart stopped as everything around her blurred into oblivion except for the man across from her.

"You would have?" she questioned, her heart pounding relentlessly in her temples.

"Yes," he returned, his voice as intimate as a caress. "I would."

Her ribs expanded, her heart nearly exploding out of her chest as the reality of what he'd just said began to sink in.

"So would I," she whispered as a tear broke free and trickled down her cheek. He reached out to wipe it away with his thumb, his smile so broad she felt embraced by it. "I would have said yes, too."

He swallowed down emotion she could sense from across the table as he blinked back tears of his own.

"So if you would and I would," he began. "Then why don't we?"

She gaped at him, trying to speak, wanting to nod, attempting to do anything besides sit in dumb confusion as she was currently doing. She cleared her throat, moving her lips in silence before her tongue finally caught up.

"Why don't we?" she echoed, melting from head to toe at the broad smile that covered his face.

"Robin-is this…?"

"It is if you want it to be," he interrupted, caressing her knuckles with his thumb. "If you're ready to make this forever. Are you, Regina?"

Oh, God. Forever. Yes-yes, she was definitely ready for a forever with this man and their boys. She was nodding as an array of tears fell down her cheeks, smiling as the word Yes danced up from her heart and tickled her tongue, ready to leap towards the man she loved just before a whisper out of nowhere cut her off.

"Do it, Dad! Do it!"

Decidedly boyish giggles then erupted from the direction of the couch.

"Shhhhh!" an older voice cut in, one she recognized instantly as Henry's. "Don't ruin it!"

"I'm not ruining anything," Roland whispered back, pausing as he seemed to realize that he'd been overheard by the adults. "Uh oh."

She held back a laugh, nearly choking on it as Robin stifled a chuckle. He cleared his throat yet again, entwining her fingers with his own.

"Do you think that perhaps we've been set up?" he mused, his eyes wandering from her to the sofa behind which their sons were obviously attempting to hide.

"I think the possibility is very strong," she answered, doing her best to stifle another laugh as Roland whispered We're busted. "You might as well come out," Regina added, leaning back in her seat. "We know you're there, boys."

"I told you to be quiet," Henry hissed just before two heads peered out from behind the top of the couch.

"I was being quiet!" Roland insisted as they puttered out from behind their fortress, their heads hanging low, their faces as obvious as a neon sign. "I only whispered, Henry."

Henry rolled his eyes at the younger boy's logic, daring to look at his mom for a second before dropping his eyes to his shoes.

"So boys," Robin began, leaning back in his seat and studying them. "Are you two responsible for putting this dinner together tonight?"

Henry and Roland looked at each other before each of them nodded slowly, refusing to make eye contact with either of their parents.

"And were you also responsible for sending misleading texts both to me and to Regina to keep us busy and away from her house today?"

Roland sighed heavily as they nodded again, only to be interrupted by August who'd strolled into the room from the kitchen.

"Henry texted you," the other man said. "But I sent the one to Regina about the football game. I didn't quite trust Roland's spelling skills."

"Football is hard to spell," Roland admitted with a shrug. "So is stadium."

Regina's lips trembled as she fought down a smile, reaching for her wine glass before she remembered that it was empty.

"I see," Robin murmured, raising a brow towards his cousin. "And was this your idea, August, or did you send that text at Roland's request?"

"He didn't have to twist my arm or anything," August admitted with a shrug. "But it wasn't my idea."

Robin's eyes locked with Regina's, the spark of amusement that was obvious to her somehow lost on their boys who looked as if they were about to attend their own funeral.

"And why did you think it necessary to mislead us as you did?" Robin continued. "Couldn't you have just asked us if you wanted us to attend such an elegant evening? "

The boys couldn't look guiltier if they tried, and they stared at each other before turning their gazes back to their parents. Henry looked like a convicted felon, Roland like a whipped puppy.

"We didn't mean to lie," Henry said, swallowing hard. "We actually wanted to do something nice for you two, something special."

"This is very nice," Robin agreed. "But why all the secrecy?"

Roland huffed as loudly as the big, bad wolf, squaring his shoulders as he decided to bite the bullet.

"Because we wanted you to propose."

Regina's eyebrows shot up as the smile lines creased further around Robin's eyes.

"You wanted me to propose to Regina?" he asked, leaning forward towards his son.

"Yeah," Roland admitted. "Or for her to propose to you. It didn't matter-just as long as you two got engaged."

She inhaled sharply, wishing for another glass of wine with all she had.

"You want us to get married?" she questioned, her eyes moving from Roland to Henry. Her son finally lifted his gaze to her own, and he grinned, making her heart leap into her throat as he nodded.

"We do," Henry replied, looking from his mom to Robin then back again. "We want to be a real family, official and all."

Her cheeks were wet, and she dabbed at them with her napkin.

"You, too, Roland?" Robin asked, smiling as the younger boy nodded back.

"I don't remember my mom," Roland admitted as he took a step towards the table, those baby browns of his melting her heart like warm wax. "And Henry's never had a dad."

"So it works out well for all of us if you two get married," Henry cut in, moving in closer. "Roland gets a mom…"

"Henry gets a dad, I get a brother," Roland jumped in, walking right up to the table, feeling bolder by the second. "And you two can stop worrying about who's staying over where at night and stuff."

Her heart was thudding again, two words amidst many drumming out a steady tattoo in her chest.

"You want me to be your mom?" she asked, staring at Roland as he beamed back at her, dimples and all.

"Yeah!" Roland answered, practically hopping into her lap. "You're great at being a mom, and we even kind of look alike. I think we'd make a great team-don't you?"

"Yes," she answered, the word tumbling out of her like a petal caught up in a waterfall. "I think we make a great team."

She laughed as tears fell freely, and she kissed curls that had been gelled and combed as small arms wrapped themselves around her neck. But Robin sat dumbstruck, finally standing up and moving towards Henry.

"You'd really like me to be your dad?"

The words were whispered and rough around the edges, tinged with emotion so deep she felt it from where she sat. Henry looked up at him before staring at her, silently seeking her permission, receiving it with a smile.

"I would," Henry said, turning his focus back to Robin. "If you wouldn't mind having me as a son."

Robin turned towards her, his eyes wet, his expression one of awe.

"Mind?" he repeated, shaking his head. "Of course I wouldn't mind. I'd be honored to be your dad, Henry. If it's okay with your mother, that is."

All three males looked directly at her at once, and she felt the stares of Alonzo, Marco and August watching them in expectation.

"It is," she said, smiling so broadly her cheeks began to ache. "You're right, Henry. Robin is a great dad."

"So does that mean you'll marry us?" Roland asked, hopping off her lap in excitement. "Please, Regina. Marry me and my dad!" Henry was nodding in her direction, trying his best to coax her along.

"I will," she answered, cutting her gaze to the man still standing beside her son. "If your dad asks me, that is."

Henry inclined his head towards Regina, gesturing Robin in her direction as Roland jumped up and down before grabbing Robin's hand and practically pulling him down to the floor.

"You're supposed to kneel down, Dad," the boy insisted. "Jeesh! Don't you know anything about proposing?"

Robin bit his lower lip to contain his amusement as Henry pushed the man closer to her from behind. He scooted toward her on the carpet and took her hand within his own, looking up at her with those blue eyes of his that never ceased to make her knees go weak.

"Regina Mills," Robin began, stroking her ring finger as he held her gaze. "I don't lead the most orderly of lives, as you well know. My house tends to be messy, and my family is always in our business." He paused, tossing a glance towards the kitchen where Alonzo and Marco waved him on as Roland whispered, "Get on with it, Dad!"

"But it's my life, and it's one I want to share with the most amazing, intelligent, compassionate and gorgeous woman I know," he continued, aiming his eyes in her direction and hitting the bullseye. "I love you, Regina. Would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Her insides burst into an array of fireworks, making everything tingle at the same time.

"I will," she answered, cut off from any further words by a pair of insistent lips upon her own. She tugged him closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, burying her fingers into his hair, chuckling into his mouth as applause broke out around them and Roland uttered Ewwwww. They drew back from each other, all touching noses and damp cheeks, reluctant to let go until Henry interrupted.

"Now's when you give her the ring."

She sat back at that, shaking her head.

"Robin doesn't have a ring yet," she explained, watching Henry's brow crease in confusion. "Because he wasn't planning on proposing tonight. This was your doing-remember?"

"Regina," Robin said, "I-"

"It's alright," she cut in. "I don't expect one right now, and there's no rush. Having a ring doesn't make us any more or less engaged."

Her finger felt barer than it ever had, oddly enough, but Robin would remedy that soon enough.

"Can we go ring shopping with you?" Roland asked. "I want to make sure you get Gina a good ring, Dad, one that shines and sparkles and costs a lot of money. That's what Uncle Frank says women want."

"You discussed engagement rings with Uncle Frank?" Robin asked. "Dare I ask what else he had to say on the subject?"

"Only that it's' all about the rock," Roland said. "That you'd better give her at least a carat or you won't be getting any for a while, whatever that means."

"You asked," Regina stated as Robin grimaced and rubbed a hand over his beard, chuckling as Frank's voice cried out Thanks a lot, Roland! from the back of the house. They stared in that direction, shaking their heads in amusement as Frank, Mary Margaret, David holding Baby Neal and Belle toting Gideon slowly came into view.

"Why am I not surprised?" Robin questioned, looking back at her with blatant adoration. "We can't do anything without an audience, it would seem."

"I hope to God there are some things you do without an audience," Frank tossed back, getting a sound whack from Mary Margaret on the arm.

"You know, maybe I should have consulted with you, Frank, before I purchased this," Robin continued, turning his full attention back on Regina. "Seeing as you're the expert, according to Roland, but I'm hoping Regina likes it, whether you had a hand in picking it out or not."

One hand reached into his pocket as the other held her left hand before releasing it to open a small box, one that held a simple yet elegant ring that took her breath away. It was an oval set in a platinum band, with two small rubies on either side of it, neither pretentious nor too understated, just absolutely perfect.

"Oh my God," she breathed, watching in fascination as he slid it onto her finger. "Robin! When did you... how did…"

"I bought it a month ago," he admitted. "Had it stashed in my bedroom, waiting for just the right time to ask you. Somehow…" he paused, tossing a pointed glance towards the kitchen. "The box ended up in my suit pocket tonight, the suit I'm assuming August picked out and had delivered here for me to change into this evening."

August shrugged good-naturedly, grinning from ear to ear as Belle moved to his side and Gideon flew into his arms from his mother's.

"I actually wondered if Roland had found it and tipped you off when I first got here and saw the setup," Robin continued. "If perhaps you'd arranged for it to be in my pocket so the stage would be set."

"You mean when you thought I was planning to propose?" she questioned. "Oh my God, do you really think I'm that devious?"

"I'm counting on it," he hummed, kissing the top of her hand. "I had this ring designed for you, Regina," he continued, his tone now soft and private. "The rubies-they represent our hearts, you know. Two hearts brought together by the most unusual of circumstances, still managing to create something beautiful out of years of pain."

Words deserted her again as she stared at the ring, holding her hand up so it caught the light and sparkled, feeling her heart reach out to the man to which it had always belonged.

"It's perfect," she breathed, cupping the sides of his face as she swallowed. "And I love you. So very much."

He leaned in and gently kissed her pulse point, her eyes closing upon contact as one of his hands dropped to her rib cage just over where the heart that had once been Marian's pulsed steady and strong.

"I love you, too," he muttered. "With all of my heart."

She laughed just before he kissed her again, startled when he practically fell into her as Roland and Henry tackle-hugged him from behind. She leaned back abruptly, touching her lip, fairly certain it had been cut as she picked up her napkin at dabbed at it.

"Are you bleeding?" he asked, reaching out to her as he tried to unsuccessfully shake off the boys.

"Barely," she answered. "You?"

He grinned, shaking his head.

"No. And my nose made it out unscathed, as well."

She cackled, remembering how she'd practically broken his nose the night they'd met, feeling that somehow a split lip was actually a good sign on this crazy road they'd been travelling. Everyone gathered around them then, wine glasses in hand as Marco topped off hers and Robin's, and they rose to their feet, moving into a circle of family she'd craved all her life. She had a son, a son-in-waiting, a fiancé, a father-in-law to be, friends, cousins...God, life had been good to her, and she was more thankful than ever for the scar on her chest, feeling it tingle as Robin's arm slid around her waist and drew her close.

"To us," Robin said, raising his class in her direction before extending it towards everyone else. "And to family."

"To Regina and Robin," Alonzo echoed as everyone raised their glass. "And family."

They drank, and she took it all in, laughing as Marco confessed they actually had trays of lasagna for everyone just in case the night turned into an engagement party, feeling loved and fully accepted as each member of Robin's family and her own hugged her in turn and offered their congratulations.

"God, I'm surrounded by men," she mused later as Robin fed her a bite of chocolate cake topped with dark chocolate ganache, so delightfully decadent it made her moan. He chuckled, gazing around the room at Alonzo and Marco, at August and Frank, at Henry, Roland, David, Neal and Gideon and nodded his agreement.

"Face it," he whispered, stroking the side of her face. "You're outnumbered, and there's nothing you can do about it."

She chuckled as she chased down chocolate with wine, leaning into him fully as they sat on the sofa while others danced and chatted.

"I wouldn't be so sure," she grinned, taking a deep breath. "After all, we could always adopt a little girl."

He paused then, eyeballing her before smiling from ear to ear and placing a soft kiss to her temple.

"That we could," he returned. "And I'm certainly game." He then claimed her mouth fully, sealing the deal and their lives together before she could get another word in edgewise.