She’s not sure she’s ever worked out in her entire life.

From a young age, her mother had hammered it into her head that physical activity--like playing sports and lifting weights--simply wasn’t ladylike; and there were other ways to maintain a her figure. Since she was thirteen, she’s watched what she ate--not because she wanted to or was concerned about it, but because her mother made her--and now that she was an adult, it was a habit.

But life with a toddler meant that most nights consisted of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets or macaroni and cheese, and if there was a vegetable to be seen at their table, it was smothered in some sort of cheese sauce that hid its identity and nutrients. She told herself that this was the reason she’d taken a sudden interest in going to the gym on the first floor of her building--it was healthy, it was good habit to get into, it was something that she could do for herself to have a little “me time.” Or, at least, that’s what she told herself as she’d stood in the mirror of a fitting room at work on her lunch break, trying on activewear. She’d grimaced at herself--this was so incredibly ridiculous, and she looked the part in a pair of pants that should never be worn in public and a sports bra that she was certain was going to break her ribs. It didn’t get better when she tossed on an off-the-shoulder t-shirt and when she looked at the pile of similar clothes on the bench beside her, she reminded herself of how pathetic she was.

And as she stood just outside the gym doors, she said it again--and just as she was about to turn around and go back upstairs, she reminded herself that she hired a sitter for this--and she caught the eye of Robin Locksley, who tipped his head and grinned, waving a little awkwardly at her as she gawked from the window.

“Pathetic,” she muttered underneath her breath as she pushed into the gym. “You are absolutely pathetic, Regina Mills.” She held her breath and silently berated herself as Robin put down the barbells he’d been lifting and walked over to her, his grin brightening as he neared. “Oh, you didn’t have to stop what you were…”

“I normally don’t see you here,” he said.

She nodded, swallowing hard as she made an effort to look him in the eye, rather than stare at the sweat-soaked shirt that clung to his chest and only barely hid its hard contours. “Oh, well, you know… New Year’s Resolutions, and all…”

His eyebrow arched. “It’s March.”

“Right,” she nods--she was such an idiot. “Well, better late than never.”

“I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs as her arms cross around her middle-- she feels so out of place. It wasn’t like she could tell him that she was looking for an excuse to see him, to talk to him about something other than her son or his cat, or… why there were sticky fingerprints all over his door or a paper covered in colorful scribbles taped to it. “So, um… you come here often?”

He laughs and she grimaces, unable to believe she’d just asked that. And, she knows very well that every evening at eight o’clock sharp, Robin heads down to the gym and every evening at eight forty-five, he returns to his apartment--she’s made it a habit to be checking to ensure that her door is locked at that time.

“Yes, actually,” he replies. “I need to do something to counter the fact that I eat like a sugar-crazed ten-year old whose parents are out of town for the weekend.”

She grins. “Yeah, I know a thing or two about that… I… had cheese sauce for dinner.”

“I love cheese sauce for dinner.”

“Henry is on a mac ‘n cheese kick,” she tells him. “And somehow, while I never forget to feed him, I always manage to forget to feed myself.” Robin hesitates for a moment--it looks like he wants to say something, but while his lips part, no words follow. “Well, anyways, I just figured if I’m going to eat a packet of liquid cheese for dinner, I should…” Her voice trails off and she wishes she’d never started that sentence. “Never mind.”

Robin laughs as he takes a step back. “Come on,” he says easily. “I’ll give you a tour.”

“Oh, I don’t want to distract you from your workout.”

“Nonsense!” He insists, reaching for her hand and tugging her toward him. “I’d love to have a workout buddy.”

Her cheeks flush a little and she lets him lead her. He shows her all of the equipment--these ones for legs, these ones for arms--and he shows her how to adjust the weight on them. Her lip catches between her teeth as she looks at the keyhole in the little bricks and wonders if she has to select one at all--she’s not here to break a sweat and she has no desire to be achy and sore the next day. Before she can consider for too long, he tugs her further, showing her a row of ellipticals and treadmills and other contraptions she never knew existed--and then he shows her the water dispenser so she can refill her water bottle.

“So, that’s it,” he tells her, looking around. “It’s nice and quiet around this time. It gets crowded around nine, so I like to leave before then.”

“I kn--” She stops, not wanting to confirm that she’s been practically stalking him for months. “I’d imagine.”

He grins. “So, I was just about to jog,” he tells her, nodding toward a treadmill. “Care to join me?”

She blinks. She doesn’t jog--the most running she’s ever done is chasing Henry around the apartment when he refuses to get into the bathtub. “Sure,” she says, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “That sounds great.”

He leads her over and shows her how to adjust the settings to her liking--and when she reaches a slow trot, she feels her lungs getting tight. Robin set the timer at a half an hour, and as her feet pound on the rubber belt that only seems to get faster, despite her never upping the speed; and, she can’t believe less than ten of those minutes have passed. He makes small talk and she tries to respond--trying in vain not to let on that she can’t run and talk at the same time. He’s amused and takes the hint--and from his pocket, he pulls out a pair of earbuds and inserts them into her treadmill. Reaching over, he selects a station and winks as he hands the other end to her, murmuring something about music being a good distraction from the burning sensation in her chest. She nods and momentarily her eyes sink closed with embarrassment--but as the first song ends, she realizes two minutes have passed. He was right and it’s working.

She focuses on breathing and she grimaces as she feels her skin warming--likely flushing red--as little beads of sweat form. She can practically feel the hair around her temples curling--and she can’t help but think of how unattractive she must look. But then, she glances over and she finds him watching her--and he’s smiling. She grins back, then turns up the sound and wills herself not to go into cardiac arrest.

Finally, Robin reaches over and slows her down and she pulls the earbuds out. She’s dizzy and hot, and desperately wants to go upstairs and take a shower. But Robin takes a swig from his water bottle and then leads her over to the mats--and says something about winding down by stretching. Awkwardly, she sits down on the mat beside him and mimics his movements, stretching out her legs and reaching for her toes.

“So, like I said, I come here at about eight most nights.” He pauses. “I work late on Wednesdays, so I don’t come then and I take Saturdays and Sundays off.”

She nods--she already knows that. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s good to take a break and…” He pauses. “The weekend crowds are… not fun.”

“Gotcha” she murmurs back, still winded.

He hesitates for a second. “Would you… want to join me tomorrow?” His grin brightens. “I can bring my iPod and let you use my workout playlist so you don’t die.” Her eyes widen and somehow, her cheeks manage to flush a deeper shade of red. “And, uh… if you want… your sitter can take Henry over to my place so he can play with Roland.”  He grins awkwardly. “That may stop him from peeing in my gym bag.”

At that she laughs out, and she finds herself nodding.

“Good,” he says. “I guess it’s a… date then.”

“Sure, we could… call it that,” suddenly a little uncomfortable.

“I didn’t mean like date-date, I just mean… well… like a date where we both end up in same place at the same time...” He stops and his eyes sink closed. “Please forget I just said that.”

“Done,” she says easily.

“And, uh, since your son and I have similar eating habits, I plan on having pizza rolls for dinner, if you two wanted to come over at around seven.”

“Maybe,” she says unable to stop herself from grinning. “Of course, I’ll have to check with Henry. He has a very refined palate.”

“Get back to me before tomorrow night?”