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“Hey, we’ll find your baby, okay? I…am a detective. But I’m also a super… detective. Okay?” Robin could feel that she was drunk in the way her own words slurred in her mouth, and in the way her mouth quirked up in a crooked grin without her even meaning to.
“I know.”
“I will find her.” She would do anything within her power to never hear Mirada’s gut-wrenching sobs again. If she had to go the other side of the world in search of her surrogate mother, she would. Even in her inebriated state, Robin was absolutely certain of it. Whatever Miranda wanted, she would do her best to make it possible. No matter the law, no matter the consequences.
“Thank you.” There was so much earnestness in Miranda’s voice that it made Robin’s heart stutter. “You have a really good heart and I’m sorry for what I’ve said,” the blonde pressed on, her eyes never leaving Robin’s face. Robin awkwardly shrugged, shaking her head, unsure how to respond to that.
Because if Miranda’s words from before had wounded her deeply, it had just been because she had let them do so. Because for all of her trying to keep people at arm’s length, for all of her defense mechanisms to prevent people from getting too attached, and herself from getting too attached to them in turn, it seemed that Robin had failed completely at her task. She saw that now, as clear as daylight, and couldn’t believe she had managed to lie to herself until now. Not only she cared for Miranda as a friend, but she had also utterly fallen in love with her.
There was something about the way the blonde was so unashamedly herself, a total hot mess of feelings, of clumsiness and of honesty that had effortlessly punched a hole through all of the armor that Robin had stacked around her bruised heart. Miranda had waltzed in, and taken residence there as if she had always been there. And Robin hadn’t really realized until now. Until they had fought and made up. Until Miranda had broken down and shared her deepest secrets, even more clandestine than her relationship with her already married boss. Miranda had trusted her with her burdens, and all Robin could think about was that she was in love with someone she could never hope to have. That this new, fluttering feeling was destined to be crushed without ever seeing the light of day. Like Cinnamon’s baby boy.
Suddenly it became too much for Robin, and she felt the tears running down her cheeks before she could do anything to try and stop them. It was not fair. She felt a soft “Oh” escaping Miranda’s lips, and she tried to awkwardly shuffle away, muttering an “Excuse me,” but before she could attempt to flee, “Oh no,” Miranda said, in that soft voice again, and suddenly Robin was enveloped in the warmest embrace she could imagine, “No, you can howl if you want to,” came the voice from above her, around her, every place at once, as she broke down completely, hiding her face in the other woman’s neck, breathing in her scent, as Miranda rocked her like a baby, rubbing her hands all over her back and cooing comforting sounds in her ear. As close as she could ever be, and at the same time, so unattainable.
Robin allowed herself to be held, her hands trapped uselessly against her own body, sobbing at the unfairness of it all for what felt like whole days. Mourning the fact that the cause for the heartache were those same hands that rubbed her back, and those legs against which her knees pushed, and that caring woman that had unwittingly stolen her heart.
And then her sobs quietened down, and although the tears were still coming, she suddenly felt that maybe the pain of being held by the woman she loved and could never have was bigger than the pain of crying alone. So she detached herself from the embrace, and muttered a “Excuse me, I’m sorry” keeping her eyes firmly on the tip of her knees. If she was met again with those earnest blue eyes, she didn’t think she could keep all of her feelings hidden. Not right now, when the realization was fresh and terrible and all-consuming.
Miranda’s hands didn’t leave her, one staying on her shoulder, warm and comforting, and the other moving to tuck a hair strand behind Robin’s ear. For a second only Robin’s labored breathing filled the silence of the room, before Miranda murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper, “No,” as her long fingers traveled to Robin’s cheekbones, wiping off all the tears, their touch soft and caring as the woman herself, “don’t ever be sorry for what you feel.”
And it was so raw, so honest, and so in tune with what was going on through Robin’s heart and brain at this time, that she couldn’t resist: against her better judgement she allowed her eyes to meet Miranda’s beautiful ones. It felt like the other woman was staring deep into her soul, the intensity of her gaze an unparalleled one and Robin felt exposed as she had never felt before. It felt like Miranda could simply read everything Robin had ever felt in her life, for anyone. Including her. And that scared Robin as few things could nowadays. She had just found her as a friend, she didn’t want her own traitorous heart to make her run away.
“M-miranda…” It was a plea, a request for forgiveness, a justification, and nothing of that at the same time. Robin had no time to think about how to word whatever she wanted to say next, because all of a sudden both of Miranda’s hands were cupping her cheeks and the blonde’s lips were crashing on her own.
It was a desperate kiss, their lips mapping each other before opening up, and letting their tongues meet in a battle for dominance. Robin’s hands came up to tangle in Miranda’s short bob, as the taller woman pulled her flush against her body, Robin now straddling her hips and pressing against her, as they explored each other’s mouths, tilting their heads so as not to bump their noses together, deepening the kiss, and then lightening it to lightly touches of lips against each other, before it became a heated duel all over again, as unrelenting as the alternation of ebb and flow on the shores of the sea.
And in all that time Robin’s brain was blissfully silent.
But her heart.
Her heart was singing.