Okay, people, here we go! Thank you so much to those of you that supported me through writing Designing Love. I realized that I've had all these ideas for multi-chap fics, but have only written one shots (except DL, obviously lol). SO, let's dive in to this new story! I hope you enjoy it… please leave a review and let me know what you think so far!

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Regina Mills stands up from her desk, looking around her perfectly decorated classroom as she runs a hand through her shoulder length hair. She smiles, noting the artwork her students have drawn her over the years stapled to the bulletin board beside her desk. Teaching is not something she ever saw herself doing, always thought she was too tough to be an elementary school teacher, despite always having a soft spot for children, but one chance meeting with a former drill sergeant turned second grade teacher in the grocery store during her sophomore year of college and she knew she wanted to at least try.

She loves her students, often referring to them as her kids, and can't imagine doing anything else with her life anymore. She's tough, but warm on the inside. Children not in her class are terrified of her, the kindergarteners always hoping they don't get The Evil Queen the next school year, but the kids in her class know the best kept secret in the school - Regina Mills has the biggest heart of any teacher in the building.

Walking toward the front of her classroom, she smoothes down the crease in her navy skirt. Taking a deep breath, glad the day of conferences is almost over, she prays this one goes by quickly.

"Mr. Locksley?" she queries, opening her classroom door to reveal a near empty hallway.

There's only a few other parents waiting outside their children's classrooms to meet with the teacher, and she sighs, elated this week is almost done. It's parent-teacher conference week at Sherwood Elementary and Regina Mills is relieved she's made it through them all. It's Friday and after dealing with so many parents this week, she'll be glad when she can get home and pour herself a glass of wine.

Her newest student, Roland Locksley, is an adorable six year old. Curly brown hair and big, chocolate eyes that are always so full of wonder. She expects his father to look like him but is surprised to find a man with sandy blonde hair with flecks of gray smattered throughout and crystal blue eyes. Eyes that she suddenly and without warning finds herself lost in, as if she could stare into those eyes for the rest of her days.

Pulling herself from her thoughts, she shakes the man's hand that he has stretched out before her.

"Yes, hello," he says in a rich, accented voice, lips pulling into a friendly smile. His dimples, which she recognizes from her student's own tiny set, pop out beneath his scruffy jaw. "I'm Roland's father."

She smiles, telling herself to act professional, not like some giddy school girl. "Please come in."

Closing the door behind them, she tells him to have a seat. It's a horseshoe shaped table accompanied by small, first grade child sized chairs. It's not the most comfortable but, well, conferences usually aren't that long. She's used to the seats by now, this being her tenth year teaching, but knows they can grow uncomfortable for other people.

She offers him an adult sized chair that sits across the room, the one she sits in while reading stories to her students, but he assures her that, It's really no problem at all.

He smirks then, chuckles a bit and says, "Roland has a table and chairs at home smaller than this that he insists I sit in while coloring with him on a regular basis, so I'm used to it."

She laughs, glad to hear about a student's home life, pleased he has a parent who will sit and spend time with him. It seems small, like any parent would do that, but after a decade of teaching, she's learned not to assume all parents are involved with their child's lives these days.

"Great," she says with a smile. "Well, thank you for making the time to meet with me today."

"Of course. How is Roland doing?"

Her smile brightens at that. Roland is precious and an excellent student. She knows she's not supposed to have favorites, but she's human and compared to some of the bratty kids she's had over the years, Roland is an angel.

"He's great academically," she says, hesitating a little on the last word. "But… There have been some issues."

Mr. Locksley sits up straighter then, a concerned look in his eyes and a crease to his brow. "Oh? How so?"

"Well," she clears her throat, shifting in her seat to sit up straighter, "he's been being picked on by some boys in our class," she explains. "I've been dealing with it, of course, but Roland is starting to get very quiet in class, pulling away." She gives him a reassuring smile. "He's usually so talkative," she chuckles, which brings a light one from his chest as well before she assures him with, "I know we've only been in school for three weeks, so I'm sure things will settle back down soon." She shifts the papers in front of her slightly, saying, "But if you could just talk with him at home about what the other boys have been saying, helping him see the right way to handle his emotions, that would help a lot, I'm sure." She smiles, not wanting to seem like she's coming off too harshly.

Roland's father deflates at that, sighing out a breath and running a large hand through his hair. "What have these boys been saying?" She can see the protectiveness flare up in him, and she smiles, always pleased to have supportive parents.

Regina hesitates, though, not sure of the proper way to explain that sometimes you get stuck with spoiled children who don't understand that not everyone is the same. "Well," she breathes, sitting back a little, "the boys have been poking fun of the fact that Roland wears glasses."

Regina goes on, telling him how when Roland finally told her the other day that the boys were making fun of him, she pulled the children aside and explained to them that not everyone's eyes can see far off like theirs. She divulged to the students that she, too, wore glasses at home and contacts at work, and promised Roland she'd wear hers some days to school, too.

Robin smiles at that, thanking her for helping make his son feel included. He admits that Roland hasn't told him of this development, but he's hoping it's just because they recently moved and have been busy unpacking and getting settled into their new home.

He tells her he and Roland just moved into a new house a few days before school started. "I started a new job as head of the Wildlife department at the Storybrooke Museum, which is wonderful, but it required us to move here from Boston."

She hums in acknowledgment, casually sliding her eyes down his arms, noticing a tattoo of a lion inside a crest residing on his wrist. Interesting. Flicking her eyes back to his face as quickly as they had scanned down, she congratulates him on his new job.

"Thank you," he smiles, sitting back a bit in the chair. "My ex-wife travels to different states for her job as an insurance trainer, so I have full custody of Roland. He was excited for the move a few weeks ago, but now that we've been here for a bit, I'm not so certain."

Ex-wife. Excellent. Not that she should be wondering if this man is married or not.

"I can tell you, though," she smiles, distracting herself from thoughts of this man, "that I've already separated the kids in class so none of them sit near each other or Roland."

Mr. Locksley nods, silently thanking her. He asks if the counselor at school needs to get involved and she nods, saying, "I've already contacted him, actually. Dr. Hopper e-mailed me back this morning to say he can pull the boys into his office for conflict resolution counseling starting next week."

"That's good," he breathes, nodding his head once more. He sits back in his seat, shifting in the tiny, plastic chair. "Hopefully that helps."

"Dr. Hopper is an excellent school counselor; I'm positive he'll be able to help." She twiddles with the stack of papers in front of her, looking into his eyes. "He can also pull Roland out by himself if we think he needs one on one counseling to deal with the bullying."

He nods, saying he would like that if it gets to that point. "But I would hope after the conflict resolution you spoke of, the bullies would leave him alone. I don't want this to affect my son all year."

He makes mention of possibly switching Roland or the boys into another classroom, and she agrees, telling him that if it continues to be an issue after writing the bullies up, and the counseling, then she will speak with the principal. She tells him she's already informed the other parents of their children's behavior, and they have assured her they would speak to their sons as well. Regina, of course, would prefer the other boys be moved if it comes down to it; she likes Roland far too much and is excited to see the great work he'll produce in her room this year.

"The good news," she says, leaning forward to rest her chin on the palm of her hand, "is that children Roland's age adjust easily to new surroundings. I'm sure being in a new house, a new school and wanting to make new friends while also being bullied all within such a short amount of time has been hard on him."

She sees his smile falter so she goes on, appeasing him with, "But like I said, kids his age are resilient. He'll be fine in no time."

She tells him he's happy most of the time, always smiling that dimpled smile of his (which, she now knows he inherited from his father). Regina focuses the conference back to his academics now that the social aspect is taken care of - says his grades are fine, and she shows him the papers that have been sitting on the table.

"Here are some assessments Roland has taken thus far," she tells him, splaying them out in his direction. He brings his hand up, his fingertips brushing hers lightly as she pulls them back into the safety of her lap. "He's very intelligent." Mr. Locksley beams with pride, his eyes scanning over the papers. She can already see potential in his child, gifted potential, and she makes a mental note to refer him for gifted testing when the time comes.

The year just started so they haven't taken many grades, but she informs him that the ones Roland has received are wonderful. "He just seems a bit withdrawn sometimes in group time, wants to argue with those boys, naturally, but I can really tell he's trying his best not to get in trouble."

He sighs, closing his eyes briefly before opening them and thanking her for letting him know. "I will be sure to speak with him at home about this. I know being picked on is no fun, but he still needs to participate in the class' learning time." He informs her that he has raised his son to live by a code, so to speak. His mother was a school teacher his whole life, so he knows the importance of an education. "If there's an issue, he knows he can talk to me, or to you for that matter. I'll talk to him about those boys, try my best to encourage him just to ignore them and focus his energy on his schoolwork instead."

There's a fire behind his blue eyes, she can tell he's a great father and has raised his son well, and she finds herself wanting to know more about this Mr. Locksley… like his first name, perhaps, and how he came to live in America when he is so clearly from England.

She smiles, breathing out a Thank you. She asks if he has any more questions, to which he says he doesn't. Regina reminds him that the packet of papers sent home on the first day of school contain the school's number as well as her cell phone number, "In case you ever need something after school hours."

She's hoping he definitely puts her cell phone number to good use, but, no, wait, she can't be attracted to a parent. Certainly can't flirt with him. And yet...

He smiles, thanks her for the reminder and coyly says, "I'll program that number into my phone as soon I get home today," with a grin on his face. Regina smirks, noting the way his eyes scan over her body almost imperceptibly. Smooth. She likes that.

"Excellent," she smiles, feeling a fluttering sensation in her stomach, as if someone is tickling a feather over her skin, at the thought of this man calling or texting her, even if it would be for something for his son.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, she sighs and stands, indicating the conference is over. As much as she's loathe to admit it, she can't sit here all day talking to this handsome man.

They walk to the door together, and she notices that his cologne smells like pine mixed with something else. Sandalwood, maybe? It's odd, strong, but not in an unpleasant way. She likes it, shouldn't, because this is a student's father, not some man she's met out at a bar with her best friend, Tink. She needs to reel her hormones back in.

Putting her hand on the handle, she pulls it down and swings the door open. "Thank you for coming by, Mr. Locksley. It was wonderful to finally meet you."

Roland had missed the first two days of school, therefore missing the back to school "Meet the Teacher" night where she normally greets her students and their parents the day before school starts. Knowing now that they moved so close to the start of the year, she assumes they were busy unpacking and getting settled.

"You as well, Miss Mills," he grins, those damn dimples making her knees go just a bit weak as he looks into her eyes with a sparkle in his own. "And please, call me Robin."

She smiles, meeting his gaze. The air seems to have shifted, feels a bit more weighted, and she wonders, not for the first time this afternoon, if he is flirting with her.

"Alright, Robin," she draws his name out, smirking a bit. "Hopefully we'll see each other soon. And while we're on first names, it's Regina."

"Regina," he whispers into the space between their bodies. They've somehow shifted closer than she would normally stand to a parent. It's not inappropriate, just… closer… than an average parent would stand. Not that she minds. She finds she likes feeling the heat from his body.

"But only Regina outside of school. Inside, I'm still Miss Mills," she informs him in jest, smirking and twitching her eyebrows up quickly.

He chuckles and agrees, saying, "Ah, well… hopefully I'll be seeing you outside of school, then."

Her head tilts. Definitely flirting. Good.

She bites down on her bottom lip as subtly as she can, trying her hardest to quell the grin that can't seem to leave her lips around this man. Not subtle enough it would seem, though, as his eyes trail down to watch her teeth sink into the flesh of her lip.

Roaming his eyes oh so slowly back up to hers, he says, "Goodbye, Miss Mills. Have a good weekend." Winking at her, he takes a step back and makes his way into hallway and down the corridor.

She inhales deeply, pressing her back into the metal door jamb. Her name has never sounded so sexy coming from someone's lips before. Maybe him calling her Miss Mills isn't such a great idea after all.

Breathing out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, Regina closes her eyes and leans her head back against the doorframe as well.

Upon hearing a throat clear, she winces, turning her head and glancing across the hall to Mary Margaret Blanchard's doorway. The girl has her shoulder pressed into the door frame, a giddy smile on her face. She's taught across from Mary for six years now, longer than she's ever worked with anyone. They are quite different — Regina a bit more cynical about things than Mary, who is always there with a speech about hope when things get tough at work — but she loves the girl. She's one of her best friends, in fact.

Her brown eyes meet Mary's sparkling green ones. She's smiling widely at Regina and asking, "Who's dad was that?"

"Roland Locksley's," she answers nonchalantly, pushing herself away from the door jamb and walking a few steps into the hallway to get closer to her friend's classroom.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say someone looks smitten."

Rolling her eyes, Regina turns back around sharply and walks into her classroom, muttering a Shut up, Mary on her way in. Before she shuts the door, she hears her friend giggle and say, "You know I'm right!"

Sighing, she walks to her desk to collect her things. Yes, Mary is right, she is a little smitten already with just one meeting of this man.

This Robin Locksley. And she's in trouble. She can't be attracted to a student's parent… Can she?

Slinging her bag onto her shoulder, Regina picks up her coat from the back of her chair and starts to leave. Her eyes scan over the room, making sure she has everything prepared for Monday. Next week's lesson plans are already printed and attached to her clipboard, the morning work papers are dispersed at their seats, and the standards she'll be teaching next week are posted on her whiteboard. Those are the important things, at least. If anything else didn't get done, she can hurry to do them Monday morning before the day starts.

She doesn't feel like staying and doing anymore work - it's been a long week and after that conference, she feels far too distracted to focus on anything else.

Checking inside her purse that she has her room keys, she flips off the light and closes the door behind her. She pokes her head inside Mary's classroom, reminding her not to stay too late before she turns around and walks out the backdoor, ready to head home and try her best not to think about Robin Locksley.

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"Papa, why are you parking the car?" Roland asks his father Monday morning as they come to a stop in the parking lot of Sherwood Elementary.

"I just thought I'd walk you to your classroom this morning," Robin lies, shifting his eyes back to his son's through the rearview mirror. He's been caught by his six year old, though, what else is he supposed to do?

Robin hadn't stopped thinking about Regina Mills since their conference Friday afternoon. Her long, dark hair, those plump, red lips that he had tried his best not to stare at as she spoke to him and those chocolate brown eyes that he could get lost in if he made too much eye contact.

He wonders if it is acceptable to be attracted to your child's teacher. He hopes so, because he most definitely is. She is beautiful. Above that, though, she seemed caring and loving. Has to be in order to willingly teach twenty first graders everyday, right? He had gone home and told himself not to look her up on social media but, well, he's a weak man.

Her Facebook had been set to private, but come Saturday night once Roland was tucked into bed and he'd had a whisky to loosen him up, he'd stupidly requested to be her friend. Had wished he could take it back the second his finger hit "request" but that was impossible. It was out there in the cyber world and there was no getting it back.

He'd gone to bed, tossed and turned for several hours before falling into a restless sleep. Thoughts filled with his son's teacher and how she was probably filling out a restraining order on the creepy father who friend requested her twenty four hours after meeting her.

He needn't have worried, however, because when he woke up Sunday morning, she had accepted his request.

He spent an embarrassingly long amount of time scrolling through her page, admiring pictures she'd posted and different articles she had shared. She seemed like an amazing woman, but getting to know her through her Facebook wasn't how he wanted to do it.

Shaking his head, he comes back to reality, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door. Taking Roland's hand, they walk down to his classroom together, Roland chattering on about how he is going to answer more questions in class this week and try to be a good friend, even to the mean boys.

Robin smiles down at his son, remembering how they'd had a very serious man to man talk Friday night about how sometimes people were mean to others, but that didn't mean he got to stop paying attention in class. He'd talked to Roland about how focusing on school would actually help him forget the bullies, and how he should always tell Miss Mills if he keeps getting picked on. Had told his son that he was a very sweet boy, everyone loves him, and if those three boys couldn't see that, then they weren't kids he wanted to be friends with anyway. He explained that usually when people picked on others, they are secretly jealous of them. Roland had perked up, asking if they wanted black glasses like his as well, and Robin had just laughed, ruffing his curly hair and assuring him that they probably did. Though, deep down, Robin couldn't help but wonder if the boys were actually struggling to keep up in class and jealous of how easy school came to his son.

Roland, as tender hearted of a child as he is, had teared up during their talk and agreed that not everyone was going to be a good friend, but he still needed to be. He admitted he'd been mean to those boys one day, but explained that he was just scared of everything - what the boys would say, his new school (it was bigger than his last, and he was nervous). Robin, of course, understood and assured him that everything would be fine. He'd get used to his new school in no time, and the bullies would leave him alone. They'd spent the rest of the night cuddled on the couch eating pizza and ice cream while watching cartoon movies. Roland had fallen asleep in Robin's lap well after bedtime, and as he carried him back to his bed and placed a kiss to the top of his head, he couldn't be more thankful for such a wonderful little boy.

"Here we are, my boy," Robin says, coming to stand just outside of Roland's classroom. "Remember what we talked about this weekend and be a good friend."

"I will, Papa!" Roland calls, giggling and wrapping his arms around his waist.

Robin crouches down to be eye level with his son, and Roland moves to wrap his little arms around his neck. He buries his nose into the crook of his father's neck and whispers an I love you.

Smiling, Robin hugs him a bit tighter and reassures him that he loves him too.

Just then, a shadow appears over them. Looking up, he notices Regina had come to stand in her doorway to greet the other children coming in that morning. His face beams with pride when he sees she, too, is wearing her black rimmed glasses. And somehow, she's even sexier with them on in this moment - a hot professor vibe coming off of her in waves that he's positive any adult with two eyes and a libido could feel, or maybe that was just him. Roland gasps, jumping excitedly and exclaiming, "You wore your glasses, too, Miss Mills!" before winding his arms around her waist in a tight hug.

She chuckles breathily and smiles brightly at his son, wrapping her arms around his tiny shoulders. Roland pulls away, pushing his glasses up on his nose before taking a step back.

"Good morning, Miss Mills," Robin says, standing up and turning to face her fully.

"Morning!" she says, glancing up at him but smiling down at Roland once more. His son gives them both another hug before going into the classroom to unpack for the day.

Regina leans her head into the classroom, reminding her students to finish unpacking and begin their morning work. He looks inside the room, amazed at how well organized these six year olds are - it's quiet, and it seems like each person who comes in the room has some type of job to get the room ready for the day. He's impressed, and finds it's just one more reason he's glad his son was placed in her class this year.

His eyes shift back to her, listening as she greets a student and reminds another, named Austin, to turn the computers on for the day. He's still standing there, can't seem to move. He wants to speak to her, wants to know her better, but isn't sure how to go about this while standing in an elementary school.

"I, uh, I got your friend request," she says lowly, smirk firmly in place on her face as her eyes slide over to look at him under her long lashes and rim of her glasses.

He rubs the back of his neck, "Yeah, I, uh," he stammers. "I wanted to know more about you."

Praying to all the gods there may be that she doesn't find him creepy, he takes a chance and finishes with a shrug and, "You intrigued me on Friday, so I got curious."

She narrows her eyes, and he wonders for a split second if she's trying to decide how to professionally tell him that he's being a right git.

He needn't wait too long, though, because she begins to grin, biting on her bottom lip to, he assumes, quell her smile from growing too large. She had done the same thing on Friday, and just like the other day, he finds it infuriatingly sexy.

"See anything you like?" she asks softly, yet flirtatiously. "On my Facebook, that is."

And oh, did he ever. He particularly liked the pictures from her summer vacation to Greece with a group of friends. He couldn't help but to stop and stare at her in a white bikini lounging on a pool chair for a little bit while looking through her pictures.

"Oh," he breathes hotly, "Lots."

The side of her lip twists into a smug grin then, hugging another student that has just walked up before the kid walks inside the room to unpack. "Good."

He's hit with how inappropriate this could be, standing here in the open shamelessly flirting with a teacher as she welcomes her students in for the day. There's other teachers standing at their doors doing the same thing for God's sake. There is another brunette teacher right across the hall in fact, one whose eye he'd caught as he made his way down the hall this morning; she'd had a large grin on her face as she glanced over to Regina's classroom. He's positive she could hear every word they're saying if the hall wasn't so loud with children excitedly making their way to class.

"Well," he clears his throat, "I just wanted to drop Roland off and remind him to behave. We had a nice chat this weekend about bullies and how the new school was nothing to be afraid of, so I'm hoping he'll be better this week."

"I'm sure he will," she says sincerely, smiling down at another student who scurries into the room, clearly excited to start their day.

He's standing next to her, while her eyes are focused mainly down the hallway, watching for her students who are arriving. She's turned her head every few minutes to make eye contact with him during their quiet round of morning flirting before turning back to greet another student, but now she turns fully to look at him and places her hand on his bicep. "Thank you for talking with him."

He ducks his head down a touch, murmuring, "It was no problem, Regina," saying her name quietly so only she can hear. Once again, she turns back to watch down the hallway, so she's not looking at him, but he sees her smile grow, a light blush covering her cheeks.

She glances over at him, saying, "I thought we agreed to only use that name outside of school."

He chuckles, lifting an arm to rest his palm on the side of the door jamb next to her head as he tells her, "What can I say? I'm a rebel."

"A regular ol' outlaw, it would seem," she laughs, shaking her head.

She's adorable, and he finds himself wanting to hear that laugh more often.

"That I am," he laughs out, moving to stand in front of her. "Well, I better be off to work."

He peeks around her into the classroom, and tells Roland goodbye one more time. With his Bye, Papa! squealed from inside, he turns to make his way down the hallway after smiling in her direction and telling her to have a good day.

As he turns, Robin catches the eye of the pixie haired teacher across the way again. She's still smiling brightly, so he gives her a slight nod with a cordial, tight lipped smile in greeting before making his way down the corridor.

The next two weeks, Robin finds himself dropping Roland off at his classroom more and more. Almost everyday if he's being honest. He just can't help himself. He likes seeing her, likes hearing her voice in the mornings. Finds himself wishing he could hear that voice in the mornings in a different setting, like in his kitchen while making breakfast, or in his bed, curled into his side. He doesn't stay long, knows she has to start the day and he has to get to work, but it's nice being able to talk to her briefly.

He's learned little things about her, like the fact that she loves the color blue, though he's noticed she prefers to wear red and black. Hasn't even seen her with any blue on so far (most of the decorations in her classroom, however, are a shade of the color). He knows that her favorite food is lasagna, and she loves to bake.

He is well aware that his morning drop offs need to end, they're bordering on inappropriate, like he's having fifteen minute dates every morning with her, but it's also not good for Roland. He doesn't need to get attached to Robin dropping him off each day, needs to let his son grow in his independence. Plus he thinks he might be an unintentional intimidating presence for the boys who have, thankfully, seemed to have stopped bullying Roland about his glasses.

"I need to stop dropping him off every morning," he tells her apprehensively one day as she leans against the door jamb and greets a little girl with blonde, curly hair that has just walked up.

"Why?" she questions, looking a little crestfallen. He's hoping that look means she likes their morning chats as much as he does. But he tries not to get his hopes up.

"I just don't want Roland to get too used to them, he needs to be more independent and be able to walk to his room on his own."

She thinks for a minute, making a humming noise in the back of her throat. "You're right," she sighs, nodding her head and tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. "I guess our morning chats can't last forever either."

He chuckles, saying, "No, unfortunately, not."

He likes this side of her, the side that isn't afraid to be a little bold and admit that she likes him coming around.

"Well, I need to get to the museum," he tells her, ducking his head down in a solemn nod.

She smiles tightly, saying, "Of course," as she stands up straighter and smooths down her black pencil skirt. That damn skirt he's had to work hard at not gawking at all morning. She's paired it with a maroon top with a black cami peeking out at the top, and she looks criminally sexy, even though he knows she's just dressed professionally. "I'll see you around."

"See ya." He glances into the room to see Roland diligently working on his morning coloring page before looking back at Regina. He shrugs, smiling once more as a goodbye.

With that, he makes his way out of the building.

And the next morning, despite his morning mantra of You will not walk Roland to class, you will not walk Roland to class, he walks his son down to his classroom, smiling brightly at Regina when she beams up at him in greeting, a twinkle to her gorgeous, brown eyes.

He's a weak man. Maybe he'll try again next week.

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There was have it. I hope you enjoyed and are intrigued enough to want the rest of it lol. Like always, please leave a review and let me know your thoughts! Thanks :)