Outlaw Queen Shorts

Pleated Skirts and Vintage Jackets

Hey guys! Sorry I've been away for a while, college has been pretty hectic with exams and applying to uni and stuff. Anyway, here's a christmassy piece I wrote for the OQ Advent Calendar (if you haven't heard of it, go look! There's some amazing fic and fan art/vids on there) I hope you enjoy it, and have an amazing Christmas! 

New York was twinkling.

Flurries of snow drifted down past the millions of square windows, the long line of red tail lights backing all the way across the Brooklyn Bridge as people drove home to their families on Christmas Eve. Regina rolled her eyes, half pitying, half disbelieving the stupidity of New Yorkers travelling at 7pm on possibly the most congested night of the year. She didn't do Christmas. Not with just her. Maybe in another life if she had a family to celebrate with, or a mother who praised her cooking and was interested in her life, or someone to sit with under a blanket drinking coco.

But this was her life: an overbearing mother only bothered about keeping up appearances, a job that took up every second of her life, and absolutely no one to share a blanket with.

"Earth to Regina," Emma clicked her fingers and she snapped her neck round from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Twelve heads of department, all sat around the meeting table, craned their necks to see her. "Are you listening?"

"Sorry, say that last bit again."

Emma let out a breath and glanced at David before carrying on. "I asked if you're on board with reducing next year's fall range to just ankle boots. We want to save the knee high designs for winter because of this year's popularity—"

"Go home." Regina interrupted, earning herself a furrowed brow from Emma and a shocked silence from everyone else. "It's Christmas Eve, I'm sure you all have better things to do than sit around here and discuss next year's ranges."

"Are you sure? I mean, it's no trouble," Regina held a hand up, nodding. She knew Emma's protests were out of politeness but she supposed it was the thought that counts.

She stood from her chair and told the room, "I think we've all had enough for one night. Have a wonderful Christmas, and I'll see you all in the New Year."

The next few minutes were spent with everyone chatting and wishing each other Merry Christmas, David and Killian finishing off the last of the sandwiches before they all went back to their own offices, leaving Regina alone with her files. And Robin. Exactly the situation she didn't want.

"Regina--"

"I really don't want to do this here, Robin."

Her clipped tone seemed to drain some life from him, his stance changing in a way only those who knew him would be able to detect.

"I just wanted to say, have a great Christmas." He smiled and her insides clenched. It was a small smile, close lipped and barely indenting his cheek where she could see the shadow of his dimple just beginning to form. They both stood facing each other, Robin with his hands in the pockets of his grey slacks and Regina holding her folders.

"Oh," she could have slapped herself for being so short with him, "well Merry Christmas, Robin." For some reason she found it hard to look at him when she said his name, her throat closing up around the word. "Enjoy the New Year."

He gave her a sad little nod that she wished he wouldn't, because as he turned and walked out of the meeting room, shutting the door behind him, she almost felt like crying.

Get it together Mills, she reminded herself, you ended things with him.

She'd ended things with him because she was insecure and stupid and definitely not worthy of love from a man so inherently good. And all she wanted was to be good enough back. He'd fought for her, valiantly, holding her when she cried and kissing her when she smiled, but Regina did what she does best and pushed him away. Just another sad story pegged on the end of a long list.