A/N: This is the final piece to the story.

CODA

David paces as he waits, fingers curling and uncurling with bilious anticipation. The others will be here in a half hour, the old gang from Harvard gathering to welcome home one of their own from his two year sojourn overseas—though David now wonders if Robin had really been part of the group. He wonders if he ever knew the young man he once considered his best friend at all.

Alkaline churns a sickly bubble in his stomach as he counts the minutes before Robin's early arrival. David invited him over to the house before everyone else under the guise of two friends making up for lost time. In truth, he wants—no, needs to understand what he witnessed last weekend.

He was scouting out romantic venues for an impending proposal to Mary Margaret. The dust had finally settled between her and her evil stepmother—strangely out of the blue—and with only one year left of law school, David decided it was time to give Mary Margaret his mother's ring. The Museum of Fine Arts was on the list of possible locations.

After touring the rest of the facility, he descended to the Art of the Americas wing, fairly certain that this wasn't the place where he would drop to one knee before his college sweetheart. He made a cursory round through the rooms and was heading back to the stairs when he saw her. The viper. The Black Widow. She stood before a glass-enclosed display of Central American pottery, hands clasped behind her back, her face the usual mask of haughty consideration. Mary Margaret had been making noises lately about forgiving her, about reconciling with the only family she had left. David wasn't feeling quite so magnanimous, though. Even if Regina had inexplicably waved the proverbial white flag, the woman was still toxic.

Good riddance to bad rubbish, David thought as he backed toward the exit before she could see him. (Not that she would acknowledge him if she did. She had a special way of looking through people she deemed insignificant.)

He froze mid-retreat when another joined her. Robin? But he was in Paris. And why was he talking to Regina as if they knew each other, like they were old friends? The smile she gave Robin was disconcerting in its authenticity. David had never seen her so unabashedly vulnerable. Real. Human. It was wrong. So wrong.

Robin brushed her hair over her shoulder, leaned into her, his fingers gliding down her arm to capture her hand. Her other palm came to rest against his chest as he whispered something against her ear that made her laugh. The exchange was too intimate to mistake as a chance encounter between acquaintances. They were lovers or well on their way to becoming as much. The revelation was further confirmed when Robin pressed his forehead against hers with a grin before taking her mouth in a heated kiss that had the weight of familiarity.

David turned away, feeling as though the earth had suddenly tipped on its axis. No. No. The battle over inheritance wasn't enough for Regina? She had to sink her fangs into Mary Margaret's friends now, too? And in such a depraved way. Oh god, Mary Margaret. She was going to be devastated when she learned about this.

The Robin David knew wasn't naïve enough to fall for Regina's counterfeit charms—especially when he easily had the pick of any woman his own age. There had to be an explanation. There had to be.

The next day Robin emailed the crew to announce his return to Boston. Among the congratulations for his new job at the MFA, Mary Margaret suggested that they throw a homecoming shindig the following Saturday. David offered to host.

He sucks in a deep breath, gripping the knob as he opens the front door. Robin stands on the other side holding two bottles of wine and a bag from South End, all smiles as if it hasn't been two years since they've laid eyes on each other—as if he's not screwing Mary Margaret's stepmother behind everyone's backs like some twisted version of The Graduate. David always detested that critically acclaimed film, more so now for different reasons.

He takes the wine from his friend—is Robin a friend?—as he steps inside. "Welcome back." David is not sure he means it.

Robin gives him a one-armed embrace that David barely manages to return. "Thanks, mate," Robin says in that deceptively solicitous timbre. "I'm glad to be home."

David bites back a sardonic retort as he directs Robin to deposit his sack in the kitchen. "How was Paris?" David asks because that might be the answer to the insanity he saw at the museum. People do crazy things in France, right? Maybe Regina vacationed there and—no, David won't finish that line of reasoning.

Robin sits at the breakfast bar, takes the bottle of beer David offers him with a nod of thanks. "Good," he answers. "Busy with work, but good."

"Yeah?" David pops the cap off of his drink and takes a sip, trying his damnedest to be casual despite the knots tangling in his stomach. "Did you get any sightseeing in?"

Robin shakes his head. "I did that before university."

"Oh, right. You've lived there before." David takes another pull on his beer. He's stalling. Of course he's stalling. Everything is about to change between them. "So, anything new since I last saw you? I mean, besides working at the Louvre."

Robin narrows his eyes, studying David before letting out a soft laugh. "Are you asking if I've met someone?"

David's heart pounds against his ribs. "Have you?"

"Still the romantic, I see."

Not exactly. David cants a brow as he waits for Robin to confess—or to lie.

"I am seeing someone." The truth it is, then.

"Is it serious?" David's question is too earnest, too interested, and not nearly happy enough. He's never been very good at keeping his emotions close to the vest, though.

Please say no. Please let this unnatural thing between Robin and Regina be some perverse fling. That he only wanted to add an older woman as a notch in his headboard. Please.

Robin frowns at the bottle in his hands. "We might need a few more of these first."

It is serious. "You can't love her," David blurts out. Not her. His best friend can't be in love with soul-sucking Regina Mills.

Consternation ripples over Robin's features, chased with a wave of comprehension. "You know, then."

"Yeah, I know." David gives up the pretense of calm acceptance. "I saw the two of you the other day at the museum."

Robin runs a hand over his face. "Not the way I wanted you to find out."

"Her? Seriously?" David sets down his bottle, grips the edge of the countertop. "How the hell did that happen? Whenthe hell did that happen?"

Robin looks up at him, his expression unreadable. "You probably shouldn't ask questions you don't truly want answers to."

"You know what?" David says, raising his hands. "You're right. I don't care how you got yourself mixed up with her." (He does.) "Just end it before Mary Margaret finds out—because I do care about how betrayed she's going to feel when she discovers one of her closest friends is sleeping with her stepmom."

Robin's lips compress in a thin line as he pushes back from the breakfast bar and rises. "End it?" It's a challenge; one David is more than happy to meet.

"Yes, end it," David says. "You don't pull that kind of backstabbing shit on your friends."

Robin raises his brows. "Wow," he replies. "Very eloquently put. Are there any other unreasonable demands you'd like to make? Which side of the bed I sleep on? The toothpaste I use? If you're going to dictate one aspect of my personal life, you may as well take a stab at the others."

David clenches his teeth. He hates the cold English gentleman persona Robin dons when he's angry. "You do realize that Regina is using you to hurt Mary Margaret, right? Tell me you're not stupid enough to believe that she actually cares about you."

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, David," Robin returns in a quiet, icy tone, "but not everything Regina does revolves around your girlfriend. And since you're so keen on full disclosure, you should know that I pursued her. Nearly three years ago."

The world tilts again as David stares at him. This has been going on for years? Before graduation? And Robin chased after Regina? But—"Why?"

"For reasons you can't begin to understand—none of which have to do with either you or Mary Margaret." Robin looks as if he might expound further, but he's interrupted by a knock at the front door. He takes a step in the direction of the sound before turning back to David. "We'll get through this soirée tonight, and then we'll part ways—that is, if you're determined that we can't remain friends under these circumstances."

"Just like that? You're really going to choose her over us?" David is incredulous. He imagined that the conversation wouldn't go over too well, but he thought, he hoped he could talk some sense into Robin.

"Ask yourself this, mate," Robin says, "who would you choose if forced to pick between Mary Margaret and myself?" He doesn't give David the opportunity to answer, but instead opens the door and greets the aforementioned woman with a cheerful hug.

David watches the reunion as turmoil snakes through his veins. He never knew his best friend after all.

(Maybe he never knew Regina, either.)

~FIN~

A/N: Thank you for coming along this journey with me! Feel free to drop me a line and share your thoughts! XD