HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEN!

I wrote you a thing! A Madam President thing in Regina's PoV... WITH SMUT! Don't you just love me?

(Dear readers, you'll need to have read at least chapter 1 of Madam President before you read this)

This is insane.

Absolutely insane.

When she'd assumed office, Regina had vowed to stop the corruption that plagued the previous government here in Maine, and she'd gone to extreme lengths to achieve that. She'd formed her staff almost from scratch, only keeping a handful of the people from her time as Mayor of Storybrooke. Her publicist, for starters, Sidney Glass, an efficient man with incredible connections and a good eye for press management. Then there was Ursula, her chief of staff, a woman with a sharp mind and even sharper tongue, no bullshit, just the way Regina liked her team to be. There are a few others, people who have respected and believed in her from the start, people who have earned their spot as part of her entourage, and she thought she'd been doing a good job, she thought it was working, and then this happened.

Nothing shakes you more than the knowledge that everything you've done to secure an honest administration has been worthless, Regina can attest to that first-hand now. Hundreds of thousands of dollars destined for charity donations are missing, and she has no idea who took them or what for.

It's almost midnight, and she's still at the office, looking over budget reports and trying her hardest to figure out who's behind this. She should sleep, she knows that, should go to bed and get some well-earned rest, but her mind is going a mile a second, even against the wishes of her exhausted body.

A knock on the door startles her, and she finds Robin there, smiling at her tenderly. It does things to her, the way he looks at her, how he always seems to linger just so he can watch over her. He's a friend, a good friend, but over these last two months, it feels different to her, it feels… more.

It's been almost two years to the day she lost her husband, two hellish years where Roland and Robin have been her saving grace. She thought she'd closed her heart, locked it away in some vault, never to be used again, but that little persistent kid somehow got in under the wire, and so did his father.

"Isn't it a little late to be plotting world domination?" he offers as he walks in, and Regina laughs, her exasperation easing for a moment.

"The tough life of an evil queen… plotting well into the night," she jokes back, donning the nickname the press has so graciously been addressing her with for the past few years.

"Ah, best put the staff on alert, then," Robin says with a wink, making her laugh again, and then his gentle gaze finds her face and he smiles at her.

"It's nice to see you laughing again," he tells her, "it's been a while since you've done it so freely."

"I haven't had much reason to laugh lately," she admits.

"Oh, I don't know, that tie Sidney wore to work last Friday was quite hilarious."

"The green one with the turtles? I gave that to him as a joke last Christmas because Ursula said he looked like a turtle. It's ridiculous!" she finds herself giggling then, "I don't know why he wears it."

"Because he has a crush on you, of course," Robin says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"I highly doubt that, I'm not the kind of woman men crush on," she says matter-of-factly.

"If that's what you think, then you don't see yourself very clearly, Regina," he counters then, and there's a conviction in his tone that tugs at her heartstrings, the moment growing in its intensity as he stares and stares at her.

"So… why are you working so late?" he changes the subject as he walks closer, pausing in front of her desk while she remains standing behind it, bent over the piles of paperwork she's been looking over for the past four hours.

"I need to figure this out," she tells him, and her tone sounds desperate, she can tell, but he's seen her at her worst, she feels no need to hide from him now.

"You're going to give yourself a stroke," he says, ever concerned for her well-being.

"Robin, we're missing four hundred thousand dollars, I can't just let that go."

"Yes you can, at least until tomorrow when they've checked all the recent bank errands. I still think it was probably all deposited to the wrong account and that's why you can't find it."

"What if it's not? What if someone took it?"

"Regina, you've worked tirelessly to make this a place where that sort of thing doesn't happen, and we all know how you feel about corrupted officials. I doubt anyone would dare ignite your ire."

She slumps, turning her back on her desk and leaning against the side of it, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down. She's ashamed of the single tear she feels trickling down her cheek. She shouldn't cry, mother always said crying is for the weak.

But mother is dead, and Regina has spent enough money on therapy to know that Cora Mills and her twisted version of what a successful young lady should be are not something she needs to live up to. So dammit, she'll cry if she wants to.

"Oh, Regina," she hears Robin say when she surreptitiously wipes away the salty evidence of her frustration, and then she feels his arms wrap around her, his hand gently bringing her head towards his chest.

"I don't know what's happening anymore, I'm so caught up in this mess that I barely know what day it is. How can anyone trust me to represent them when I can't even tell what day it is?!"

She's frazzled, angry and so, so tired, but his hold on her tightens, helps her ground herself, and so she reigns in her exasperation for his benefit, sniffling and trying her hardest to push the tears back, and only then does she realize he's muttering reassurances in her ear.

"It's okay, take a deep breath," he says, and she does. "That's it. Just breathe. You can fix this, alright? It's just a minor bump in the road, you can handle it."

"You think too highly of me, Robin. Don't."

She pulls back to look at him better, but they're still close enough that she can feel the warmth of him, can still feel his breath ghosting over her cheek, and then his hands rise to cup her face, his eyes finding hers.

"Listen to me, you are incredible at this job. You're strong, and brave, and human. Those qualities make you the right choice for the people. That is why they trust you."

His voice is low and raspy, their proximity intoxicating, and there's energy crackling between them in a way there hasn't been before. He seems to feel it, too, because he's leaning in, and she finds herself closing her eyes despite the many alarms that go off in her head telling her that this can't happen, that it could end her entire career, that he could—.

His lips landing on hers erase any and all worries, and the gentle press of his mouth against hers feels so right that it shakes her, but the moment is over before she can fully give in, as Robin is pulling back a few paces and looking at her with wide eyes.

"I'm s— I'm sorry," he stammers, mortified.

"I'm not," she tells him, because this moment his honor has just interrupted is the most alive she's felt in two years, and she realizes then that she's ready. She's in, she's all in.

He's staring at her, baffled, it seems, by the words that just left her mouth, and she supposes it's a bit bold and audacious to out and out admit that she wants this, but propriety isn't something she's interested in right now. No, right now all she wants is more of that feeling, more of that spark she felt when he'd given in to his desires just seconds ago.

Taking a deep breath, she pushes herself off the desk where she's perched, walking slowly towards him and looking right into his eyes when she reaches him, her hand settling on his chest.

"I'm not sorry at all," she breathes, and then she's crashing their lips together, kissing him with every ounce of pent up need she's had for the past few weeks, letting go of her apprehension and the nagging feeling that this is wrong, because nothing that feels this good can be wrong, it just can't.

He's surprised at first, she can tell by the way he hesitates in returning the kiss, but then her tongue peeks out to lick at the seam of his lips, and he finally surrenders, his satisfied groan muffled against her mouth.

He explores her, savors her, and she does the exact same to him, breathing in his moans and grazing her teeth over his bottom lip, reveling in the shiver her actions cause in him, loving the way his body seems to mold itself to her, his hands finding her waist and grasping, chest pressed against hers, until the kiss is heated enough that his fingers coast over bare skin under the hem of her top, and she wants -needs- more.

"Robin," she rasps after parting their lips with a wet pop, and he opens his eyes, dark and deep and lustful as he stares at her, and this is not the place or time, not in her office in the middle of the night, not while she's trying to figure out who's stealing that money, but she's done solving problems tonight. She just wants this. Him. She wants him.

"Take it off," she breathes when his fingers dip into the waistband of her charcoal skirt, and his answering whimper of Regina has a liquid heat sloshing through her, but then he stops, takes his hands away from her and puts some space between them, his eyes roaming her form for a moment, settling on her confused frown before he turns and stalks to the door. For a second, she's baffled, a pang of rejection pulling at her heart, but Robin turns to her when he reaches the handle, gives her a small smile, and closes the door of her office, locking it before he walks back to her, his hungry gaze devouring her.

She watches him then, her breathing growing shallower by the second as he moves around the office and closes the drapes, turns off the main lights, so that the only things preventing them from being plunged into complete darkness are the glow of her computer screen and the warm, yellowy gleam from the lamp in the corner of her desk.

Large hands grasp her waist from behind after a few seconds of charged silence, and his lips are hot on her ear as he breathes out her name, burying his face in her neck. She shakes, whether from arousal or from the significance of what's about to happen, she does not know.

"Are you sure about this?" he mutters against her shoulder then, tongue licking at her skin after he voices his question, and Regina turns in his arms, finding his eyes and moaning softly at the heated desire she sees in them.

"I… yes, I'm sure," she tells him, voice trembling.

"You don't sound it," he tells her gently, one hand leaving her waist to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the apple of it as he looks into her eyes with nothing but care and concern, and it melts her, shatters what little composure she had left as tears fall from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she says, shaking her head and trying to smile, "I'm being silly."

"Did I do something...?"

"No, you're wonderful, you feel wonderful," she says, pausing her speech by crushing their lips together again, savoring him and the sweet, wet touch of his tongue against hers for a moment before she pulls back, reigning herself in and taking deep breaths to calm down her rapidly beating heart.

"Regina, I don't want you to think-"

"I'm not thinking anything of the sort," she interrupts before he can start rambling about how he's not expecting anything from her, "I want this, Robin, I do, it's just…"

"Daniel?" he asks when she trails off, then insists, "he'd want you to be happy, you know... And I don't intend for this to be one night of passion and then forgotten, I want more with you, Regina, have wanted more for a while now."

"You have?" she asks, bewildered by his statement.

"Yes, but it wasn't the time. It still doesn't have to be, if you're not ready to let go of Daniel," he insists.

"Robin, it's not Daniel. I loved him more than anything, yes, and I miss him every day, but you're right, he'd want me to be happy, and you're a good man, and a fantastic kisser," she says, and he smirks in response. "But I'm the governor of Maine, you're my chief of security. This is dangerous. If the press finds out, they'll ruin me, ruin you."

"I can keep a secret," he says with a little smirk that has her chuckling humorlessly and bending her head forward, so that her forehead is touching his as she speaks again.

"Would you really be willing to do that? A secret relationship isn't exactly what you had in mind, I'm sure."

"I just want to be with you, Regina," he tells her then, his conviction shaking her when he adds, "in whatever way you'll let me."

Her hands settle on either side of his face, a sad smile breaking out on her face as she looks at him, so determined to make her happy.

"All this time you've been my friend, my rock, you've been there for me in ways no one else has," she says, feeling selfish when she adds, "I don't want to lose that."

Robin smiles, then ducks his head to plant a kiss on her forehead, his nose bumping hers as he replies, "You never will, no matter what happens."

It's all the reassurance she needs, and with it she's bringing their lips together again, slowly this time, taking in every sensation his touch evokes in her, moaning low in her throat when his hand slips to her rear and presses her closer.

Robin groans against her neck, laving his tongue there and making her squirm. They spend a few minutes like that, just wildly making out, tasting and sampling and tangling limbs as they grow desperate to explore each other, until his hand is back under her blue silk blouse, firmer this time, surer, making its way up until he finds a breast and kneads gently, then stops altogether.

"Wait," he says when she moves her hands to unbutton the offending garment, "I want to do that."

She smirks when he half-grins at her, her rear bumping into the side of the desk as she perches herself on it again and leans her hands back against the wooden surface, biting her lower lip as she watches him watch her, his breath heavy as he trails one finger up her shirt, fiddling with the buttons.

Her heels fall to the floor with a loud clunk! as she kicks them off, her thighs rubbing together as she searches for friction, her ass sliding a little bit further out with the movement, hands shifting to grab onto the edge of the desk when Robin finally begins unbuttoning her.

He's slow. Torturously so. But she likes it, takes this time to admire him, to take in the slight furrow of his brow as he concentrates on popping open the little plastic studs that hold her shirt together, to catch the hitch in his breath when the fabric finally falls off and he's left staring at her.

"So beautiful," he whispers before his mouth swoops in and trails a path of kisses from one swell to the other just over the navy lace of her bra, teeth nipping at her skin, making her moan and writhe where she sits completely at mercy.

Robin trails his tongue over her skin while his hands cup her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples over the lace, and then he starts with the kisses again, one and two and three and twenty, his nose breathing her in as he goes from breasts to stomach and back up, leisurely drawing random patterns with pecks of his lips over her body.

"That feels good," she breathes out, and it only spurs him on, his mouth traveling up the length of her neck on one side and down the other, teeth catching on the elastic strap at her shoulder and pulling it down, down, down, until it can go no further and snaps softly right above her elbow, his lips never stopping their descent even as they let go of the strap and continue down her arm, his head moving to the side to land a kiss on her palm when she places it against his cheek.

His hands find the hem of her skirt and begin rucking it up her legs, until it's bunched as far as her thighs, his mouth following the path left by his fingers as they drag down one leg and then the other, bringing her sheer stockings down with them until they're on the floor, forgotten and abandoned in favor of smooth skin that he licks as he moves back up.

"Robin," she rasps, and it sounds needy, like she's asking for something.

"Yes, Regina?" he asks against her breasts, apparently catching onto her tone as well.

"I… I want..." she's lost her brain, apparently, cannot find words for her request, but it's all his fault, really, because his hand has just inched up her thigh, one finger pushing her underwear aside and ghosting over where she needs him, while his mouth finds a nipple over the fabric of her bra and sucks it into his mouth, turning her into this incoherent mess.

"What do you want?" he asks as that treacherous finger presses a bit more firmly, plays with her clit a little as he continues taunting her with his delicious voice and that ridiculously sexy accent. "Tell me, Regina. I want to know you this way, I want to make you come right here on your desk."

God, if he keeps talking like that she might never be able to form a proper sentence again. Her mouth is dry, tongue peeking out to wet her lips as she tries to catch her breath, gasping when he moves up and nips at her neck and dear god, that finger is slipping into her now, pumping slowly as he continues to leave a wet trail over shoulder and neck, and it's only when her hands leave the desk and slam against him that she realizes he has yet to undress, and no, she can't have that.

"I want your mouth," she finally says, answering his question before she bends to her task.

Her hands move deftly, more so than she'd thought they would considering how riled up she is. He's in a white button-down and black slacks, his belt buckle emitting a metallic clink as she loosens it, fingers finding the button right after and popping it open easily, dropping the pants to the floor where he stumbles a little as he steps out of them. Her hands instantly move under his shirt, raking her nails up his warm skin, a whimper leaving her when he shifts his focus from her neck to her mouth, his tongue immediately seeking hers. Ah, he likes the nails, she notes, running them up his sides again, a little harder this time, and he groans into her mouth, his hips jerking against her leg.

Regina pushes herself off the desk then, until she's standing right in front of him, and Robin bites his lip as he watches her reach back and undo her bra, dropping it to join her shirt and stockings on the giant rug under them. They get rid of her skirt together, and his calloused fingers hook into her panties, dragging them down her legs until he's kneeling before her as she kicks off the dark blue lace that matches her already discarded bra.

She's pushed back against the desk, lands on it rather gracelessly, but it doesn't matter, because the new angle and the lack of clothes allow her to open her legs wide for him, and then his tongue finds her clit and she's drowning in the pleasure of it.

It takes everything in her not to scream the mansion down as he licks and sucks at her, his lips slurping against her sensitive nub, tongue flicking at it over and over again while his finger circles her entrance, plays with her, taunts her, and it's wet and hot and frustrating and insanely good all at once.

"Fuck, yes!" she tells him as she starts playing with her breasts, thumb rubbing over her left nipple. "Just like that."

Robin keeps exploring, letting his tongue dip into her, then his fingers, two of them, then three, fast and hard and delicious when he crooks them up inside her and finds just the right spot.

"Suck," she breathes in a plea, and he's all too happy to comply, blowing hot air over her clit before he closes his lips around it and sucks hard, fingers slowing down in contrast, and it's been so long since anyone's done this to her that she knows it'll be over soon. It all feels so good.

"Come for me, Regina," he murmurs against her as he draws his wet digits out before he gives her a flat, long lick, another, and another, and next thing she knows his fingers are back inside her and his tongue is going wild against her clit and she's coming, coming and panting and making high-pitched, breathy noises she hadn't thought herself capable of.

"Oh, god," she says as she comes down from her lovely, delirious high.

"You're stunning," he tells her from his place of worship, his eyes drinking her in from head to toe, lingering at her breasts, his tongue licking at his upper lip when his detailed appraisal brings his gaze back to her sex, and he ducks back in, giving her too-sensitive clit one final little kiss, chuckling when she squirms.

"And you are entirely too clothed," she teases in a raspy voice, "come here."

He obeys, stands before her and lets her remove his shirt slowly. She doesn't unbutton it, but rather drags it up his body, kissing a line up his toned abdomen as she goes, licking briefly at his nipple when his chest is finally on display, her tongue laving over it on her way up to his jaw, his stubble rubbing against her cheek, making her tremble in his arms as they circle around her waist to bring her closer, and a guttural fuck, Regina! is uttered against her skin when she runs her fingers along his length over the fabric of his boxers.

His hands find purchase on her waist then, pushing her further back on the desk as he bites at her lower lip, and she'd be embarrassed by the sound that comes out of her when he lets his finger drift back down and into her, except that it feels so good she really can't bring herself to care, regaling him with every moan and squeal that spills out of her as he fucks her with his finger, spreads her wetness with it, toys with her clit, joins it with a second and lets them slip inside her again.

"Oh, god!" she all but shouts, praying to every deity out there that the agents on patrol out in the halls didn't hear her.

"So wet," Robin groans against her, his breath warm fanning over her ear, his free hand tangling in her hair, feeling the texture of it between his fingers. Another mental note, he likes her hair.

"I want you inside me," she whispers against his mouth when he moves to kiss her again, and he ducks his head down and lets out a stream of curses against her nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, laps at it while it's trapped there, and her fingers thread in his hair and tug him closer. He gets the message, spends a couple of wonderful minutes lavishing the hardened peak with the attentions of his tongue before he switches to the other and does the same, his hand still down between her legs, cupping her, fingering her.

"God, I need to feel you," he begs her, and she has half a mind to ask him what he's waiting for (she already told him she wants him in her), but then she feels a rush of cold air as he leaves her, crouches down on the floor to look for his pants and finds his wallet in one of the pockets, fishing out a condom from the battered leather and throwing it on the corner of the desk. Ah, yes, good thing he's still sound enough to remember these things (she clearly isn't).

"Should I be offended that you carry one of those with you? Were you hoping to hook up with someone else, Agent Locksley?" she asks in jest, knowing full well that's not something he would do, but it surprises her that he doesn't catch on to the joke, his face growing serious for a moment as he stares at her.

"I don't want anyone else," he tells her in earnest, "I need you to know that right now, before we go any further. I only want you, Regina."

The fierce determination in his words moves her, makes her smile at him as she tilts her head to the side and looks him over.

"Come here, you," she tells him, and suddenly the atmosphere changes, no longer the frenzied, wet exchanges of before, but rather a wave of serenity settles in, drains every sound, every fleck of light, envelops them in a warm, cozy bubble where everything is discovered by touch and feel, where their lips find each other as if they've been doing this dance for centuries, and the taste of him, the way he breathes her name as her hand rubs over the smooth skin of his shaft when he finally removes his boxers, the reverence with which he touches her, a hand trailing over her cheek, thumb ghosting over her closed eyelids, making her lashes flutter, it all speaks of something more, something bigger, and the significance of it has her eyes watering as they gaze into his.

She kisses him again, slow and deep and incredible, his hands roaming her ribcage, one drifting down to her wet heat yet again and rubbing over it with no aim, no playful dalliances on her clit, no thrusting inside of her, just caressing, exploring with soft passes of his fingers over her, and the intimacy of it has her whimpering, sagging against him as her own hand finds his cock and pumps a few times, slowly, lazily, pulling back his foreskin on every downward stroke, her thumb spreading the liquid bead of arousal at his tip.

It takes them a few minutes, shaken as they are by what they're about to do, but when he finally rolls on the condom and sinks into her, it's heaven. He's thick and warm and lovely, pushing his way inside her slowly as she opens her legs wider where she's sitting on the side of her desk, her hands wrapping around his neck and holding on as she rolls her hips against him at a snail's pace, basking in his answering groan and the small bite he lands on her shoulder.

His left arm is wrapped around her, his right hand trapped between them, squeezing the swells of her breasts, thumb rubbing tight circles over one nipple, then the other, and Regina lets her head drop back from where it had been nestled against the crook of his shoulder, feels his tongue immediately lick up her neck, teeth nipping at her chin when he reaches it.

Their eyes meet, then close as he begins to move a hair faster, their mouths hovering, breaths mingling as they grow more and more ragged, and then the hand that had been tending so deliciously to her nipples drops down to her clit and rubs slowly as he thrusts up into her a bit more firmly, making her back arch while her legs wrap around his waist to bring him closer.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he tells her, voice muffled against her breasts when he ducks down to tease and lap, adding a little suction when he finds her nipple again.

"You, too," she chokes. "Your cock feels amazing."

Robin's low fuck! has tiny bursts of heat shooting through her, and then she's picking up the pace a bit, asking him to go harder, to please make her come again, because she needs to come again, needs to come with him inside her.

He does just that when he grazes her lower lip and raps his hips against her harder, the desk scooting back under the force of their movements and almost making him slip out of her, but he's quicker, moves closer and resumes his thrusting.

"Faster," she begs, and "god, you feel so good."

"Are you close?" he asks, and she nods furiously against his shoulder as he picks up the pace, until the desk is rattling under them as he fucks her into oblivion, every hard thrust now hitting that spot inside her that makes her want to scream. But she can't, she can't scream or she'll alert everyone and their mother that she's being fucked by her security chief, so she muffles her shouts by biting into the skin of his shoulder.

Gently, Robin pushes her back with a hand in the valley between her breasts, until she's lying down over the hard wooden surface of the desk as his hand drags down her body and finds her clit again, rubbing furiously at it with his thumb now as he thrusts into her. Regina can vaguely feel a couple of pens and a paperweight slightly digging into her back, knows she'll probably have the marks of them on her skin later, but she's too caught up in Robin to care.

She feels her second orgasm of the night seize her with one particularly hard thrust of his cock inside her, her arms stretching by her sides like wings as she writhes under his attentions, his hands holding on to her thighs as they fall from their grip around his waist, and with a few more deep pumps and a light squeeze of her inner walls around him, she watches him as he comes, his face contorted in a most exquisite expression, that husky voice of his uttering her name in the most succulent moan she's ever heard. She wants to hear it forever.

Her body feels like jelly, her legs shaky when they drop from Robin's hold as he moves to get rid of the condom, and then he's hooking his arms under her and carrying her to her chair, where he plops himself down with her atop his lap and slightly to the side, her back pressing into the left side of his chest, his nose skimming her shoulder. He rests his chin against it as they grin at each other and take the next hour to just relax, talking and laughing softly between caresses and teasing looks and peppered kisses.

The next day, when the bank's investigation for the missing money shows that indeed, it was simply deposited in the wrong account, she celebrates the averted crisis by sprawling naked on Robin's bed while he does wicked, delicious things to her with his mouth... and yes, Regina decides, she could definitely get used to this.