My slightly different take on the Vault scene - a smutty, fluffy one shot. Hope you enjoy :)

The first thing Robin becomes aware of as he stirs awake is the warmth of her body against his. She's curled on her side and he's wrapped in behind her, her naked skin impossibly soft under his fingers, the scent of her hair in his nose. Her back is pressed to his chest and he tightens his arms, pulling her even closer in against him.

They're lying in her hidden room, the one she'd steered him to while he'd busied himself with stripping her dress off her. He'd have been interested to learn of her secret hideaway if it hadn't been revealed at just the same moment that he'd managed to wrangle her bra open. As it was he barely noticed the wave of her hand that transformed her sofa into a wide double bed, busy as he was with finally filling his hands with her glorious tits. When his thumbs had strummed over her nipples she'd let out a moan that went straight to his cock and curled her fingers into his shirt, yanking her to him and pulling him down on top of her.

A year of sniping and flirting and wanting, of deep affection and raging lust-filled tension, had exploded in round after round of furious, exquisite sex. He'd been delighted but utterly unsurprised to find Regina a fierce, passionate lover - eager and insatiable as she'd ridden him into his wildest dreams.

And now here he is, still half asleep but stirring for her once again. They can't have been asleep long, his internal body clock telling him it isn't much past midnight, but his brain and cock are once more prodding him into action. She's naked in his arms and he's been denied her far too long to waste any conscious moment not kissing her.

His lips find the back of her neck, peppering it with kisses, and his hands start to roam over her beautiful naked body. One skates over her belly, pressing lightly to pull her flush against him, the other moves up to cup her breast, his fingers finding her nipple and he starts to tease it lazily. She stirs and arches into his touch, moaning his name in a sleep-roughened voice.

She starts to writhe back against him, her perfect perfect arse moving against where he is already rock hard for her. He's got both hands on her tits now, squeezing and rolling, and he's pressing kisses to her neck, her shoulder, her cheekbone. She moans his name again, her voice still low and gravelly but more awake now. Her arm reaches up and back and her hand finds the back of his neck, her head twisting towards him as she pulls his lips to hers.

The kiss is clumsy as they strain towards each other and soon Robin is shifting, propping himself up on his elbow and using a hand to turn her onto her back. They can kiss properly now, her tongue stroking his before he feels her teeth catch his lower lip and he groans into her mouth. His hand has moved to her stomach, stroking light swirls over her satin soft skin before moving lower and lower. He can feel her muscles flutter under his touch and her hand tightens on his neck as she arches into him.

'I want you,' he breathes, and she pulls him back down to kiss her again, humming her agreement.

His fingers continue their journey down her body and then she lets loose a sharp gasp as they circle her clit slowly. She moans into his mouth and her hips ease gently upwards, encouraging. He dips his fingers down further into her wetness - his cock twitches with anticipation at the feel of her - then back up, spreading it over her clit and rubbing more firmly. Her breathing is heavy and her kisses have become sloppy and distracted and he moves his lips down her neck, sucking gently, his tongue swirling against her skin. She's getting wetter by the second and her hips are moving faster, rising rhythmically to meet his fingers.

He's just formulating the thought to start kissing his way down her body but before he can act on it she's pulling at his shoulders, urging him on top of her, her legs falling open even wider to allow him to settle between them.

'Already? You're sure?' he checks, even as he feels her hand start to guide him to where she's wet and warm and waiting.

She smiles sleepily and nods at him, one hand at the back of his neck urging him down for a kiss and the other wrapped around him, soft fingers positioning him at her entrance. She tips her head down to break the kiss and whispers into the space between them, 'Fuck me, Robin.'

A bolt of desire rockets through him and he buries his face in her shoulder with a groan. He feels her legs come up around his waist, urging him towards her and he pushes forward, sliding home. And she does feel like home - nothing has ever felt so right. Must be the soulmate thing, he thinks. And then she crosses her ankles behind him, pulling him deeper into her and he stops thinking at all.

It feels like a dream, this slow sleepy fuck in the dead of night. She is a dream - her soft lips, her flowery scent, her warm wetness pulling him deeper and deeper. She's moaning now, whispering his name, catching his earlobe in her teeth.

His face is buried in her neck, swirling his tongue over her pulse point in between groans of 'Regina' and 'God you feel amazing' and 'I love you.'

Her hips are moving faster now, and it may have only been one night but he's learnt the sounds she makes, the way her body feels when she's right on the edge and he recognises the signs. 'Are you going to come?' he murmurs into her hair and the words inspire a particularly hearty moan from her.

'Yes,' she whines, her breath hitching, 'Don't stop.'

'Never. God, never. You feel so good. I could fuck you forever.' The words spill freely from him but then her lips are searching his again and they're kissing desperately now, the tension building, their breaths mingling as they part for a mutual gasp of pleasure when she lifts her legs a bit higher on his back and pulls him even deeper.

He feels her hand snake down between them and moments later her head tips back with a cry. Her thighs are shaking against his sides and she manages to gasp out 'Don't stop - mmm - Robin' before orgasm sweeps over her. She shudders beneath him, letting loose wordless little shouts and her muscles, oh god her muscles, are clenching and clenching around him. He's so close now, he can feel goosebumps flaring up his legs and back, and her orgasm seems to be subsiding so he lessens his grip on his self control - allows himself to focus on her lips, her bouncing tits, her tight warmth around him— With a strangled ecstatic groan he comes, his arms shaking as they hold himself up above her, pleasure fizzing through his veins.

As the tension leaves his limbs he collapses into her arms, burying his face in her neck as she sweeps her hands up his back and into his hair. She uses her grip to urge him towards her, tipping his head so her lips can find his. They trade slow, satisfied kisses for a minute before he pulls back to look at her, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek gently. She's smiling at him, a beautiful, sleepy, radiant thing which makes his heart sing with happiness and he ducks down for one last kiss before finally pulling out and shifting to lie down alongside her. But he's not willing to lose his grip on her yet, and he gathers her back into his arms and pulls her into him. Her arms go around him, their legs tangle and one hand comes up to stroke her hair absently. He feels her press a couple of kisses into his chest as his eyes begin to droop.

He sleeps like the dead and next time he wakes she's nowhere to be seen. Sliding a hand across the sheet he feels the cold emptiness where she'd been lying and his chest tightens in something like panic. When did she leave? Before he turned up last night she'd been exhorting him to stay away, for both their sakes - maybe she'd woken up this morning and regretted what they'd done. He knows her well enough to know that she'll be blaming herself for this and he can't bear the guilt if she uses this to heap any more self-loathing onto her poor battered heart. He has to find her.

In a second he's out of bed, pulling on his jeans and vest - the rest can wait. He pushes open the door hidden by the mirror and he almost weeps with joy as he sees her, sitting on the steps, her head bowed as she fiddles with something on her shoe. His heart soars and he lets out an audible sigh of relief. She looks up at that, her face warm and smiling and perhaps even a bit bashful. 'Well, look who's finally woken up,' she says, her voice light and teasing and he grins. She's still here. She's still his.