A/N-Special thanks to Bekki for beta reading this. Also thanks to all who have read, reviewed this story.

His body responds with an electric jolt, and he's on his feet at the bathroom door in the space of a heartbeat. "Regina?"

Her voice is choked with panic when she answers. "I'm bleeding."

His own panic thrums through his chest, metallic and whirring. He's read enough pregnancy books by this point to know that this is really, really bad. And all he wants to do is rush in there and cradle her in his arms and also call 9-1-1 and also just fix it, because that's what he does, he shows up to a scene and fixes things.

And then a calm settles over him—not as detached as it would be on a call, but still rational, still capable and in control. He can handle an emergency. He's an expert at emergencies, actually, and it's never mattered more than in this moment, when his heart is on the other side of a bathroom door from his body, bleeding and scared.

"Regina, I need to come in there. May I?"

"Hurry," she says, her voice quiet, and he hears the lock slide open. He opens the door.

She's on the edge of her tub across from her cabinet, which is open and spilling forth a pastel pile of wrapped pads. She has one in her fist, but she's not moving to put it in her panties.

She's not moving at all.

He squats down and brushes her hair away from her face. "We have to go to the ER, sweetheart. We have to go right now."

She doesn't respond, except the trembling in her hands increases. He covers them with his own and gets all the way to his knees. "I need you to be strong for the baby right now, okay?"

And for me, he wants to add. But he doesn't, because it's his turn to be strong for her.

"Does it hurt?" Robin asks.

She shakes her head. "It feels like nothing. No pain. Just blood."

He breathes out a small sigh of relief. Bleeding is bad, but bleeding without cramping is slightly better. He's already mentally mapped routes to all the nearest hospitals, and decided it will actually take less time for him to take her in the Audi than to wait for an ambulance.

She finally looks at him, her eyes starting to gloss over. "What if the baby is dead?" she whispers. "What if I only got to have it for such a short time and it died?"

"Then we hold on to the feeling that we got to love a baby, no matter how briefly." He squeezes her hands and then he stands up, helping her stand too. "But this baby's not done fighting to live, and neither are you. Which is why we're going to the hospital right now."

She moves slowly, jerkily, like a marionette with tangled strings, but his words have roused her a little. "Should we call 9-1-1?" she asks as she unwraps the pad and puts it in her panties. It should feel nice that she's doing something so private in front of him, but it worries him instead. She must be terrified if she's letting her walls fall down, especially when she seemed so determined just five minutes ago to build even more walls between them.

"It'll take them longer to get to us and get us to an ER than it would be for us to drive ourselves. And they won't be able to do much for this kind of thing anyway."

She pulls up her pants and nods slowly. "Okay then."

He pulls her into a tight hug. "Do you trust me?"

She nods against his chest. "Yeah. I do."

"Then I'm going to make it okay."

He takes her hand and leads her out to his car, and she lets him.

Robin breaks almost every traffic law he knows of on the drive to the hospital. At a safe speed, obeying all lights and stops, it would be a ten-minute drive. But with Regina silent and bleeding next to him and his hand gripping the gearshift like it's keeping them alive, he gets to the hospital in less than five minutes. This ER has valet parking, thank god, because there's not a snowflake's chance in hell he's leaving Regina alone even for as long as it takes him to park a car.

He pulls up to the curb and climbs out of the driver's seat, and as he does, he feels the light bite of something against his thigh. The bite of something cold and small and hard in his jeans pocket, something he had the boys help him pick out last night. Something he brought with him to Regina's house this morning, back when he hoped…

The feel of it now, when Regina has so thoroughly shut him out and the pregnancy is in danger, is almost too much. A dagger twisting between the ribs. After Regina is out of the car, he gives his keys to the valet in exchange for a ticket. He recognizes the triage nurse when they walk in.

"Officer Locksley," she says, surprised. "Don't usually see you without the uniform." And she's right, he does walk through these doors pretty frequently, usually on follow-up for accidents.

"It's not a good morning," he says, with the kind of understatement that is the first language of cops and trauma nurses.

She nods, looking past him to Regina, who is pale and quiet. "Let's get you triaged and in a room then."

There is the usual process of emergency rooms—blood pressure and temperatures and dates of last menstrual cycles and Regina repeating the same information over and over again. Yes, she's bleeding. Maybe a few tablespoons, maybe more. No, there's no pain.

Then there's a urine sample to leave, a short wait in the waiting room, and then the nurse comes in to bring Regina back to a room. He hesitates when they stand up from their waiting room chairs. He wants nothing more than to go back with her—the need to is cell-deep, urging him to stay by the woman he loves and their baby—but he has to respect Regina's wishes. Her need for walls and privacy.

Regina reaches for his hand and refuses to let go. She doesn't say anything, but the nurse's gaze flicks between them, assessing, and he can tell he's already locked into the role of "baby's father" in her mind. If Regina doesn't say anything, the staff will assume that he's welcome back there.

"Regina?" He tries to sound solid, stable, but his heart is pounding. He wants to go back there. He doesn't want Regina out of his sight for a second.

Regina doesn't answer, but she squeezes his hand.

He squeezes back, hoping it tells her all the things he can't. That he'll be by her side as long as she wants him, that he's here for all the ugly and scary parts. That he's here to be strong for her.

"If you guys will just follow me," the nurse says.

They walk together back to the room, Regina leaning into him. He has to remind himself that it doesn't mean all the things he wants it to mean, it just means that Regina wants someone with her right now, not that she's moved on from all the things they talked about earlier this morning.

But God, he wants it to mean everything.

It's a Sunday morning, and so the ward is as quiet as he's ever seen it, but Regina still seems a little overwhelmed by the slow bustle of nurses and techs wheeling machines around and the low sound of someone moaning from a room. He's been in this ER with his hand clamped over a woman's gashed artery, he's tackled violent drunks who've attacked nurses here, he's accepted a stale donut from a nurse while they watched the other nurses forcibly catheterize a man who refused to willingly leave an urine sample after he mowed down an elderly man gardening by his sidewalk.

He's not overwhelmed by the Sunday Morning ER.

They get into her room and the nurse asks her to change into a gown, and then whisks out through the weirdly patterned curtain all ER rooms seem to have. Regina takes a deep breath and then another one, and before she can ask, he puts his hand on the curtain to leave too so she can dress in privacy.

"Stay," she says quietly. "Please."

His chest collapses inward with a pained gratitude. "Of course."

He still turns to give her space as she dresses, and then he feels a small tap on his arm.

"Will you help me with the ties in back?" she asks, and there's a note of something in her voice that adds to the collapsing-with-gratitude feeling. Like she's asking for something more than having her gown tied. Like she's admitting she doesn't want to do everything on her own any more.

Like she's admitting that she wants him.

After he ties it, she arranges herself on the bed, and he steps forward to unfold the blanket, which is still warm from the mysterious blanket warmer hospitals have. She looks up at him in surprise as he silently spreads it over her legs, and then a look of relief and comfort passes over her face.

"Thank you," she murmurs. "Feels nice."

He squeezes her knee, but he doesn't answer. He doesn't know if he can. There's so much in the air between them right now—the painful things he admitted to her, her rejection of him, the danger the pregnancy is in. The thing in his pocket that she doesn't know about.

After a minute or two of silence, she says, "I have something for you. In my purse."

Now, it's his turn to be surprised. "A present?"

She blushes a little. "Well, no. It's a library book. I checked it out in your name."

"It's the gray book," she comments as he opens her purse to see that she has not one, but three library books wedged inside. A glow warms his chest at the sight. Regina working in a library is like an alcoholic working in a liquor store. Except it's so fucking adorable, he can't stand it. His bookworm. His librarian.

"It's Dylan Thomas," Regina says, as he flips through the pages.

"The 'Do Not Go Gentle' guy?" Robin realizes that maybe he read him in college after all, but he thinks he was too busy hitting on the TA to absorb much of the actual poetry.

"Yes," she says. "And also he was an alcoholic and chronically unfaithful and not a little emotionally manipulative. But his words are magic. And this last week, after Officer Hunter died, I thought of his poems. How they're sad and somehow energizing at the same time. He writes about death the way it should be written about."

He starts to read to her, about birth and death. Of second chances.

The sono tech comes in, oblivious to the strained silence she created, hums to herself as she sets everything up. Then she turns to him with a polite smile that is more "no-nonsense" than it is polite, really.

"Do you mind stepping out so we can have some privacy?" she asks.

Robin glances at Regina, who still looks caught in the moment of trying to talk to him, and then with as much grace as he can muster while his heart is tearing itself out of its chest, he stands up to go.

He's just the sperm donor, after all.

"He can stay," Regina says softly, and he freezes. She clears her throat so she's louder. "I want him to stay."

There's a pause, and then she adds with a shy smile, "He's the father."

Her eyes meet his, and he doesn't think he's imagining the shine to her eyes, but it's kind of hard to tell because his own eyes are burning, probably just allergies or the gusty air conditioning or—

Ah, fuck it. Yes, he's crying.

He's the father.

The sono tech shrugs as she rolls a condom onto the sonography wand. He tearfully frowns at it as he pulls a chair up next to Regina's bed. "What's that for?" He asks.

Both women give him patronizing smiles. "It's for the ultrasound, dummy," Regina tells him.

He's seen people torn open on the pavement, he's seen EMTs jam giant syringes into near-comatose diabetics, he's felt someone's sternum crack as he administered CPR, but his ultrasound knowledge is extremely limited. "I thought ultrasounds happened on your stomach?"

The tech laughs and squirts a glob of clear lube onto the wand with a loud ffffbbbbbtttt noise. "Not this early in the pregnancy. It's going in the same place where the baby got made."

He's horrified. He doesn't remember the baby books or Belle mentioning anything about this.

But Regina is completely nonplussed as the tech hands her the wand to guide it inside herself under the sheet. Her face screws up to one side, as if it's uncomfortable, and he feels the urge to fix it somehow, but before he can speak, the wand is inside Regina and the machine's screen comes to life with clouds of black and white static.

He has no idea what the hell he's looking at, whether it's good or bad, but the sono tech taps on her keyboard and moves the wand and adjusts the knobs and suddenly a dark oval appears. A dark empty oval.

Regina's breath sucks in and so does his. He knows empty means vacant. Empty means bad.

He takes her hand and holds it tight. He's here with her no matter what, and no matter what, they'll make it through this. Then the sonographer moves the wand just a little more, and he sees it. A little seed curled up in a sea of dark, and then a whomp-whomp-whomp sound comes through the machine.

"There's the heartbeat," the sonographer says with a smile. "Baby is doing just fine in there."

"Oh thank God," Robin breathes.

Next to him, Regina bursts into tears.

The tech takes a few pictures and then adjusts some more knobs and moves the wand again. The baby bean with its strong heartbeat disappears and reappears on the screen, like a picture coming in and out of focus. But the third time it happens, there's something else on the screen too, next to their baby seed. In fact, it looks like nothing more than a second baby seed, suspended upside down in Regina's belly, thinking little, silent baby seed thoughts.

Regina and him look at each other with wide eyes and then back to the screen.

Whomp-whomp-whomp goes the machine again.

"And there's the second heartbeat," the sonographer says, as if it's the most casual thing in the world. "You're having twins."

"Twins?" The word feels wrong in her mouth, as though he's mispronounced it or said the wrong thing all together.

But he sees the picture on the screen as clear as anything, and even if he didn't, the ultrasound technician confirms it. "Twins. Let me take some measurements and then I'll print some pictures for you to take with you."

She knows her eyes are wide when she turns to Robin. "Twins," she says, dazed.

His knee is bouncing with nervous energy and his hand is clutching hers as tightly as mine's clutching his, but his entire face is lit with excitement. "Twins, Regina! Told you I had super sperm."

A giggle escapes through the bubble of terror that has surrounded her since she first saw the blood. "Exactly. This is your fault." She giggles again. She can't stop giggling as she returns her gaze to the monitor. Back to her babies.

"What?" Robin asks, chuckling too.

"I'm just…" It's hard to talk over the fit of giggles. It's even harder to explain this incredible, overwhelming, brutally tender joy that she's feeling. "I'm just happy," she says, finally, tears brimming at her eyes.

"Yeah," Robin says reverently. "Me too."

The tech types something into the computer. "It looks like Baby One is measuring at seven weeks two days and Baby Two is measuring at seven weeks exactly. So, based on that, we'd say you're seven weeks one day along."

She mentally pulls up her calendar app in her head. "I've kept accurate records. I should be just shy of seven weeks."

"Our measurements might be off, but it's also likely that you ovulated earlier than you thought you did."

She looks at Robin. "The patrol car."

"Seriously?" He lowers his voice though the room is small enough the tech can probably hear him anyway. "Neighborhood Hot Cop knocked you up?"

She giggles again at the name of the game they'd played that night. "Yep. Neighborhood Hot Cop knocked me up."

Then she has to turn away and bite her lip so she doesn't start crying again in earnest because, goddammit, she loves this hot cop. More than she's ever wanted to admit. And today he's been perfect, in every way. She was so scared, and Robin was calm and stable and everything she needed. He was the only person she wanted beside her, and as she sits here looking at their twin baby apple seeds, she can't imagine not having him beside her for all of the rest of it.

She wants to tell him, and she will, but before she can figure out what to say, the sonographer is handing them a strip of black and white printouts of their twin embryos and packing up her ultrasound machine.

"The doctor will be in soon to talk to you," she says as she leaves.

Robin looks over her shoulder as she studies the grainy pictures of their babies. They're barely anything right now. Just little specks, but they have hearts and kidneys and stumps that will soon be legs and arms. And already she's so in love with them she can barely hold all she feels inside.

"They're so beautiful." She wishes she knew what he was thinking. If he still wanted her now that she was bringing two babies to the relationship. "Don't you think they're beautiful?"

"Well." He squints at the apple seed shapes.

She laughs. "They're going to look more baby-like eventually."

"They better. Or we're going to have a hell of a time telling them apart." He grows serious. "But, yes, I think they're beautiful. Like their mom. How are you feeling about two of them?"

Isn't that the question of the hour? It's overwhelming, but she already can't think of them as anything but a pair.

"I want them. I love them. It's not what I planned, that's for sure." She sighs and looks up at him. "You weren't what I planned either."

He seems about to say something, but the curtains swing open and in walks a petite woman in a white lab coat, a stethoscope around her neck and a patient chart in her hand.

"Hi, I'm Dr. DeMarto," she says quickly, as though she has places to be. "You're Regina Mills?"

She confirms her identity and birth date and then says, "I've had a chance to look at your ultrasound results and everything looks fine with both babies. One of the placentas is forming rather close to the cervix, so my guess is that's why we saw some bleeding today. But that's nothing that has to be scary, and some light bleeding early in pregnancy can be normal. We'll just want to keep an eye on it, and worst-case scenario, you might find yourself on bed rest for a while. So follow up with your OB this week for regular prenatal care and also to talk to them about the low placenta, and that should take care of you. Any questions?"

Regina's so grateful that the babies are okay, and still in shock that she has more than one baby inside her, that she can't really think of any questions off the top of her head. "I see my OB on Tuesday. I'm sure if I have any questions, I can ask then."

"I have a question," Robin says tentatively.

Dr DeMarto looks to her before she nods for him to go ahead.

"Is the bleeding…? Could this have been caused because…?" He can't seem to form the question the way he wants. Finally, he blurts it out. "Was this from sex?"

Her face goes warm, but when she looks at him, she sees nothing but concern, and she realizes he's worried that their rough sex in the library might have harmed their babies.

"Certainly, there can be light bleeding immediately after intercourse," Dr. DeMarto says without blinking. "But that's normal and nothing to be alarmed about. Intercourse during pregnancy is safe unless a doctor tells you otherwise."

Robin starts to ask something else, but the doctor guesses what it is and adds, "And I'm a doctor, and I'm not telling you otherwise."

"Got it." His shoulders relax. "Thanks, Doc."

The next half hour passes in a buzz of activity. Nurses and technicians come in to unhook her from the vitals machine and go over discharge paperwork and insurance information. Finally, she's dressed, the pics of the babies are tucked in her purse, and they're ready to leave.

When they walk out of the ER, Belle is in the waiting room. Her eyes are pinned on the doors so she sees them right away and waves them over.

"I texted her," Robin admits guiltily. From his expression, she can tell he's worried he mis-stepped. Or he's worried about them, about where they stand right now, and that's fair. She's worried too. They have a lot to worry about.

So he doesn't need to worry about this too. "I'm glad you texted her," she tells him honestly.

She's fidgeting like it's taking all she has not to run to them. But she's tentative too, unsure what they've found out about her pregnancy, whether it's good news or bad.

"Is everything going to be okay? With the baby?" Belle asks softly, as though loud words might wake their sleeping fetus.

"Yes. I'm all good," Regina says, and she audibly sighs in relief as she hugs her tightly. "I have to keep an eye on it, but light bleeding can be normal, according to the doctor."

"It can be totally normal. I had light bleeding with Kevin and the kid got here with no other problems. In fact, I spotted through the whole entire nine months. It can be terrifying, but just wait. This is only the beginning. There's a ton of other terrifying shit that can happen. Did I tell you about what happened when I was still pregnant with—"

"Belle!" Robin exclaims. He waits for her attention before he says, "Not the time."

"Probably should save those stories for after I give birth. I kind of scare easily." Regina gazes up at the brave man at her side. "Or, I did."

He smiles, just a little, and the way he gazes back down at her could melt an iceberg of fear.

Belle notices their mooning, but she doesn't address it outright. "Sure, sure. Wasn't thinking. But! I brought you a present. I was saving this for your baby shower, but it seems like a good time to give it to you now. It just came yesterday. I had to special order it."

She digs through her purse and pulls out a baby onesie and holds it up so they can both read it. I know a lot but my aunt knows everything.

"Uh…aunt?" She's not sure if that's what she's coined herself or if Robin has already told her.

"Yeah, Regina. Aunt." She points at her. "Because I know you pretty well." Then she points at Robin. "And I sure as hell know him. And there's no way this baby isn't his. He's been moony-eyed and dazed since the minute he brought the kids to the library, out of the blue, on a weeknight to hunt down the cutie he'd met on a call. So, yes. I'm an aunt. And I know everything. Admit it."

"I'll admit you're kind of a brat," Robin says.

"Well, you don't know everything," Regina scowls, "And you're going to have to get a second one."

Belle's eyes dart from Regina's to her brother's. "I'm not following."

Regina nods to Robin. He should be the one to tell her. She's his sister and these are his babies.

He lights up when he says it. "We're having twins."

It sounds so good to hear him say we. Like it's natural. Like there couldn't be any other way, and there couldn't be. He was always meant to be their dad. From the very beginning, she picked him partly because he was so amazing with Joey and Kevin and even Violet, and no matter how many times she told herself it was because she simply wanted those good genes in her child, the truth is, part of her always imagined him like that with their kid. Snuggling their kid against his chest, pulling their kid in a wagon, taking their kid to the library. Helping their kid with homework.

They spend the next several minutes talking about the babies and their health and what she's supposed to do over the next few weeks, which mostly ends up being Belle telling them what she thinks Regina should do based on her own experiences with her pregnancies. Finally, Robin suggests that they should leave the medical advice to the doctors, and she gets huffy and says she should go and check on Pop then since no one else is looking after him at the moment and at least there her advice is wanted.

"Tolerated," Robin corrects.

Her eyes narrow, but before she can explode, Regina brings her in for another hug. "I want your advice, Belle. All of it. Not today, maybe, but I'm coming to you for everything."

"I'm glad you were into my brother," she says when she pulls away, her eyes glossy. "Or rather, I'm glad you let my brother be into you."

"Alrighty then!" Robin pushes her not so gently toward the doors. "See ya later, sis."

"I'm glad too," Regina calls after her. "Thank you for coming to the hospital. And for the onesie!"

"Yes. Thank you, Belle," Robin shouts before turning to her.

Then they're alone.

Well, not exactly alone, because there are all sorts of people buzzing around them—other patients and nurses and doctors and a security guard and these two little apple seeds wrapped snugly in her womb with heartbeats so strong she got to hear them with her own ears.

But it's alone enough to feel the weight of all the unsaid things they carried into the hospital with them this morning. Silently, they stare at each other, with these boulders of unspoken words on their backs, and it doesn't feel awkward, but it feels heavy. Like they're both carrying such a tremendous load, and both of them are so sure that there has to be a way to make it lighter. If they can just find a way to carry it together.

She's the one who speaks first, since she thinks it's her turn. She throws the ball right back at him though because she's braver than she was, but not that brave. Yet. She still needs him to guide her. Still needs him to help him be strong. "So what now?"

Obviously he's going to give the ticket to the valet and they'll bring his car around and that's what's now.

"Well," he says, stalling. "I think you get to choose your own adventure."

"Um. Okay?" she tilts her head, imploring him to go on.

"When I was a kid, I loved those books. You know, the ones where you read a few pages and then at the bottom it says, 'If you want to rescue the princess, go to page 74; if you want to stay and fight the boss, go to page 58'?"

"Yes," she says smugly. "I know those books."

"Right. You know books." He chuckles. "Anyway. Right now, you get to choose your own adventure. You can either have me drive you back to your home, and you can do this all on your own. Raise two kids with as much or as little help from me as you want. I can be there for them if you let me. None of your choosing has to be about them."

"Or." He takes a nervous step toward her. "You can let me drive you to my house so we can tell Pop together that he's going to have to stop being stubborn and take my bedroom. And then I can move my girl and my babies in with me where they belong. There's a master and two bedrooms upstairs, Regina. It's perfect for all of us."

"The thing I wanted to tell you earlier, at my condo…" Regina swallows, trying to find her voice because what's coming out sounds small and shaky, not like hers at all. "I thought I needed to be as far away from you as possible. I couldn't be around you and not want you. So I called a realtor last night to put my place up for sale. I was going to move."

They have to be hard words to hear, but his gaze remains steady and hopeful. "And now?"

"I guess I'll still need the realtor. If I'm moving in with you and all."

Her eyes are wet and cloudy, but she can still see Robin perfectly when, in front of everyone in the ER waiting room, he falls to his knees in front of her. Well, one knee.

"What are you doing? Get up!" But her heart is racing and she's really crying now and there's no way she actually wants him to get up because he's digging into his pocket and pulling out a diamond solitaire ring.

"Regina, marry me. Raise our babies with me. Grow old with me and watch bad movies with me and talk dead poets with me and go shopping with me and watch the baseball games with me. Let me love you and make love to you and hold you when you're scared. Be my rock, when I need to lean on someone." He grabs her hand and clutches onto it. "Hold me when I'm scared. Be afraid with me."

She wipes tears off her face with her free hand, but it's useless. New ones replace the ones she's removed. "I'm tearing up our contract."

His eyes twinkle gently. "Oh Regina. That contract was never real anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"You're a fantastic librarian, but you'd make a terrible lawyer."

"But you signed it anyway?"

"I was going to honor your wishes no matter what I did or didn't sign, so it didn't matter to me and it seemed important to you," he says. His eyes twinkle more. "Also, I really, really wanted to sleep with you."

He kisses her so she can't hold it for long. When he lets her breathe again, he meets her eyes. "So...is all that a yes?"

She's nodding when she answers. "I choose you, Robin. I choose the adventure. I'm tired of being scared and alone and safe. I've been so afraid of dying, I've forgotten to live. I want to be alive with you. I love you so much."

Then he's kissing her again, and he's so happy he stands up and takes her with him. Her feet dangle off the ground while he kisses her and kisses her, but then they have to stop kissing because they've drawn a crowd and no one knows yet what she's answered until Robin sets her down and shouts, "She said 'yes'!"

Their onlookers clap and cheer. A few know Robin personally and they call out specific congratulations, but it all fades into background noise as he takes her hand and slides the ring onto her finger.

"I love you, Regina," he says, his gaze hot on her face as she stares at her new beautiful diamond. "And I love you." He bends to kiss her belly. Then he kisses it again. "And I love you."

His eyes return to her. "I can't promise I know the future, but I can promise I'll do everything I can to protect and keep you safe. All of you."

"All of us. You too. Don't do any stupid cop things, okay?" She knows that's his job and it's important to him, but she wants him to know that his life is important to her.

"No stupid cop things. Only regular cop things." He runs his knuckles reassuringly down the side of her neck. "I'm a safe cop, Regina. The people I'm supposed to help come first, but after them, I'll do everything I can to make sure I come home to you."

"I know you will." She doesn't know what will happen in the future either, and it's still scary, but she trusts him. And she loves him. And that's worth being afraid for. Their little family is worth being afraid for.

"Let's go home now, okay?"

"'Home,'" he says, closing his eyes as he drags out the "mm." "That sounds good when you say it."

It sounds good when he says it too. Like they've chosen it together. Like they're both turning to the same page in their very own Choose Your Own Adventure.

One Year Later

"Fuck, that's nice," Robin grunts, sliding his cock into Regina's waiting mouth. "Suck it good, baby."

His wife obeys with an eagerness that makes his balls tight, closing her lips around him and pulling him deep. She pushes in until she feels her throat savor the slick and soft heat of it, and then pulls back out to admire her. He's got her handcuffed to the bed, flat on her back with her handcuffed wrists secured to the headboard and her ankles tied to the edges of the footboard, spreading her so she's nice and open for him. Her tits, ripe and full, jut up towards the ceiling, and her hips squirm as she aches with empty agony. He's given her an orgasm with his tongue and then another one with a wand vibrator tonight, intentionally starving her of his fingers and his cock for this exact purpose. To make her insane with need.

"Robin," she breathes, blinking up at her and still squirming. "Please."

"You want to be fucked, sweetheart?"

She groans in response, throwing her head back, which only serves to push her tits up higher. Now it's his turn to groan, and he runs a finger from one peaked nipple down to a quivering thigh. The moment his fingertip brushes the sensitive crease between her thigh and her slit, she cries out.

"Yeah, you need it bad," Robin says in a low voice. He gives her inner thigh a smart smack and then moves himself in between her legs. "All tied up and begging for it."

She tries to lift her hips to get closer to his cock, which is hanging like a heavy pipe as he leans over her, the head swollen and slick with pre-cum. "Don't tease me," she says in a moan, "Robin, fuck me with it, please, please, please."

The truth is that he's the one who's really needing it bad. It's been pure torture tonight to pleasure her without coming himself. But that's okay because he's here now, his crown kissing the wet heat of her, and he's going to hold her hips down and fuck her until they break the bed.

With a few small adjustments, he's thrusting into her, and he's about to black out it feels so good. "Fuck, you feel so good."

Regina's smile is half pride, half mischief. She angles her hips up, and he goes so deep he hear angels sing.

"Harder," she breathes with a big, happy smile. "Go harder."

He starts moving faster and deeper and he can feel himself, getting close, closer.

A loud, angry wail crackles through the baby monitor on the end table. They both freeze, sweaty and high with sex hormones.

Another angry wail, now joined by a sleepier, more confused cry. Underneath him, a small drop of milk runs down the side of Regina's breast. And he laughs. His balls ache, yes, but they're ridiculous and sweaty and milky and hornier than teenagers because between two needy twins—and a grandfather who's only just moved into a senior living apartment in the last week—real, unfettered fucking has been hard to come by. Most nights they're lucky if they can sneak in a quickie in the shower. But tonight, by some miracle, the twins had fallen asleep early and they thought maybe they could make up for some lost time…

Rookie mistake.

But he wouldn't trade this life for anything, not the crying or the cock-blocking babies or the days so busy and packed with laundry and spit-up and washing breast pumps and bottles that they barely have time to climb under the covers before they're asleep. It's all so fucking precious to him.

So it's with a smile that he leans down and licks the drop of milk off Regina's breast. She shivers. "Tell me we'll finish this," she says, looking up at him with needy eyes.

"We'll finish this," he promises in a husky voice, giving her tit one last lick.

"Hope's too hungry to wait. Put her in bed with me so she can start eating."

"Be right back, babe." He puts on some lounge pants and hurries.

Hope's worked herself up to a five-alarm fire by the time he walks into the nursery. She's just gotten the knack of sitting up on her own, and right now she's sitting in the middle of the crib, chubby fists clenched in fury, screaming. He flicks on a light and heft the chunk up into his arms, where her screaming abates—a little. She knows he's transportation to Mommy and therefore extends him the grace of lowering her bellows the tiniest bit.

He can't resist giving her a little squeeze—she's like a stuffed sausage in her footie pajamas—and giving the dark curls on her head a big kiss. Then with the ease born of lots and lots and lots (did he mention lots?) of practice, he carries her over to the other crib and scoops Roland out with one hand, so that he's got both babies tucked into his elbows.

Robin croons to Hope wordlessly as he hitches Roland up a little higher and they go to find Mommy. Once Hope sees her, she starts kicking frantically in his arms, reaching for Regina like Regina is the only thing in the world that matters. And hey, he knows the feeling—aside from these two squishes, Regina is his entire world too.

Robin sets Roland down in a bouncy chair, turns the vibrations and songs on with the edge of his foot against the switch, and then gives Hope to Regina. Robin watches as his wife nurses their little girl. He then rescues Roland from his bouncy chair. He's wide awake now but totally calm and he stares at him with deep blue eyes as he changes his diaper and then sits with him in the glider, cuddling him close. He's just as squishy as his sister but less demanding, happy to wait his turn in his arms.

Regina looks across the room at him, her eyes warm. "You're so sexy when you're holding a baby. Especially all shirtless like that."

"You're so sexy all the fucking time. No matter what."

She rolls her eyes and drops her gaze to their daughter, who is finally starting to slow down on the milk. "Liar."

But it's true. She was a bombshell wearing leggings and a T-shirt when they first met. Even more of a bombshell on their wedding day, five months pregnant and glowing in a tight lace gown that showed off every gorgeous curve. She was even more beautiful on the day the twins were born, sweet and nervous and stubborn on the operating table, dark tendrils of hair escaping her puffy blue cap.

And now she's the sexiest of all to him. He knows she doesn't believe him when he tells her that, but he's never gotten harder for her than he does now, never been as obsessed with her body, never needed to have her so close to him and never needed so much to lavish her with kisses and caresses. She's softer now, her belly streaked with stretch marks and carved with a low dark scar, and even though she's shy about her tummy, he's in awe of her every time he sees it. In awe of her strength, of her body growing and carrying two entire lives inside it. And okay, yes, there's some fucked up male pride involved. She carried his babies, and every reminder of that makes him want to tackle her and get her pregnant again.

It's not all that abstract, though. She smells different, intoxicating. Her skin itself is addictingly soft. Her tits are full and ripe and spill over his hands when he tries to hold them. Seeing her curled around one of their babies as she nurses sends bolts of pure elemental lust through him. It's all caveman, the urge to protect her and their babies and also to plant more babies inside her.

Robin can tell by the deep baby snores coming from the bed that Hope has finally filled her little belly, and he stands up and helps Regina swap out babies. She rolls over to give Roland a fresh breast and snorts at the Hope lump in his arms, who is now passed out harder than any drunk he's ever seen.

"You look just like your mother, I'm going to have a hard time in about sixteen years." Robin said not looking forward to that day.

"Robin," Regina whispers softly. "I think Roland might be asleep too."

Thank you, patron saint of hungry twins and also the patron saint of alone time for Mommy and Daddy.

Within a few moments, he's got both babies snoozing in their cribs, and he's back in bed with his wife, pants off and long forgotten.

"You know…" Robin teases, as he runs a hand over Regina's body. "You turned thirty a couple of months ago, and I haven't heard you once talk about how you're turning into a living zombie. I think you might have gotten over your fear of dying."

Regina arches underneath his touch, a naughty smile on her face as she reaches down for his cock and pumps it until it's stone-hard again. "I found the cure for my fear."

He grabs her hips and pulls her on top of him, jabbing into her and savoring her gentle moan as she sinks down to the hilt. "Is the cure my cock? Or my super, Captain America sperm that gives you squishy soon-to-be avengers for justice?"

She laughs, leaning down to kiss him. "No, Mr. Officer Blue Eyes. The cure for fear of dying is living. You taught me that."

Her words cut him in the best of ways, warm him until he thinks his entire body might melt from loving this woman.

"Fuck, I love you, Regina," He breathes, his eyes pinned on hers.

"I love you, hot cop. And I swear to God if you don't finish what you started earlier tonight, I'm going to die for real." She scratches her nails down his abs to underscore her point.

And then he's out of jokes, out of playfulness.

And there's only sweat and kisses and adoration as they live late, late, late into the night, as they live for their futures.

The End.