Regina isn't late, exactly. She might be walking slightly faster than usual. But she's not late.

Her mandatory appointment with the first-year cadet counselor is a formality. Regina knows exactly which courses she needs to take. Her mother has made certain of that. I've drawn up this outline for you, dear. No need to thank me. You'll be able to finish your core courses in one and a half years if you go year 'round. Once you finish your major—something other than science, you simply can't be serious about that—you'll apply for Command School. You'll be captain of your own ship in no time. Imagine that! And it can only get better from there, darling…

Regina realizes she's scowling from the way other cadets are scattering in front of her. Well, never mind them. Right now she needs to focus on finding the office and getting one more requirement checked off on the school's internal records. She looks down at one of the PADDs she's carrying to reassure herself of the room number. The door's open, but no one's behind the desk.

"You're not Counselor Hopper." A baby-faced blonde woman in street clothes unfolds from a chair just inside the room and looks her up and down. "Wow. You're really, really not Counselor Hopper." She's wearing too much eyeliner and a look of frank appreciation, and Regina feels her face heat subtly at the assessment.

"No, I am not. I have an appointment with him at 1600. Who are you?"

"Emma Swan. And that's weird, because I have an appointment with him too."

"You must be mistaken. I scheduled this meeting with him a month ago."

"I'm just going by what my school calendar says. See, right here: Hopper at 1600. Which was—" Swan leans a shoulder against the wall and makes a show of glancing at her own PADD's chrono display. "—about five minutes ago. So if he does show up, I get first dibs."

"Dibs? Don't be ridiculous."

"Hey, no, this is a big deal or something. They said I need this to get my registration hold lifted. You could come back some other time, right? Busy cadet like yourself with a million other things to do." The girl nods at the stack of PADDs in Regina's hands. Maybe it's something about the way she's lounging against the wall in a leather jacket and a haze of charm, grinning insouciantly like she's the second coming of Jim Kirk, but Regina instantly dislikes Emma Swan.

"No. This is my appointment and you're not taking it."

"Oh, come on, please?" Swan whines.

"You're welcome to wait for the counselor and make arrangements to come back after we're done."

"Maybe we could split the time slot? We both know this isn't going to take a full half hour."

"Of course you'd think that."

Blue-green eyes narrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Regina takes in her street clothes again—what are those hideous (and tight, so very tight) trousers made of? "I fully intend to make good use of my time with Counselor Hopper to discuss my academic strategy. You, on the other hand, clearly don't take this institution seriously. Classes started two days ago but you're not in uniform, which means you've either missed cadet orientation or you have no regard for campus rules. In fact, I'm not sure how you passed the entrance exam. Friends in low places, Cadet Swan?"

Swan flushes. "I'm pretty good at math and stuff, all right?"

"Math and stuff. Well, aren't you just Starfleet Academy's poster child for recruitment?"

"And who the hell are you?"

"Regina Mills. Science major and eventual command track."

"Command track? With your people skills? That's a laugh."

"I have excellent people skills, thank you very much."

Swan laughs. "Sure you do. Which is why you're going to major in something that'll keep you holed up in a lab, right?"

"The science track is a perfectly legitimate career choice," Regina begins hotly. She's interrupted by simultaneous notifications from her and Swan's PADDs. It's a message from Hopper's assistant: the counselor's had a family emergency and needs to reschedule all afternoon sessions. The appointment time on her message says 1530. There's also a notification for her first study session with Kathryn.

"Well, guess that settles that, huh?" Swan says. Regina looks up immediately, certain that the other cadet somehow knows Regina was mistaken about her appointment, but Swan just shuffles closer with an impish smile. "So…since we're both free for a while…want to get a coffee?"

"What? With you?" Swan bites her lip and looks up through her lashes. Are her eyes green or blue? It's starting to bother Regina. "Come on, Mills, don't you want to tell me about all your ten-year plan?"

"You're mocking me."

"Me, mock you? Never."

"I don't have time for this. I have to study with a friend in ten minutes."

"Oh yeah? Double-booked your meeting with Hopper, huh? It's okay, I get it, you just wanted to hang around here and talk to me. I'm a great conversationalist."

Swan's grin is triumphant and Regina scowls, caught and angry about it. "Why would I want to talk to you? I have better things to do than befriend a charity case who's going to wash out in the first semester. Oh, you're nothing special, Swan, and Starfleet will realize that soon enough." The other cadet goes quiet, a flash of hurt in those big eyes, and Regina shouldn't feel bad about her outburst or sorry for this cocky girl but she might, just a little. Swan mumbles, "Look, we don't have to be friends or anything, I just—I don't know anyone here, and you're really…I thought maybe we'd see each other in class or something?"

Regina shakes her head almost gently. "Considering the size of this campus, I doubt that very much."

"You never know. Finding people's kind of my thing."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. That, and telling when people are lying."

"How nice for you."

There's a trace of a smirk on her lips. "You were lying about not wanting to talk to me."

Regina scoffs and turns to leave. "Good day, Cadet Swan."

"Hey, do you even like coffee?"

"Of course I like coffee. Why do you ask?"

"Can I bring some when I look for you?'

"You can certainly try. Good luck with that." She turns on her heel and walks away. What an abrasive, infuriatingly persistent person. She finds herself wondering if Emma's—Cadet Swan's—special powers will prove to be of any use.

She gets her answer two days later in Intro to Interspecies Ethics, when a thermal-sealed coffee and a bakery bag are deposited on her desk over halfway through the lecture. She looks over to see Swan settle into the empty seat next to her. "What are you doing here?" Regina hisses.

"Going to class, Mills, what's it look like?" Swan winks at her and shoves half of her own pastry into her mouth, looking around the auditorium as she chews. "Hey, you can totally see the Golden Gate Bridge from here. Awesome."

"How did you even—" The lecturer turns to face them and Regina shuts her mouth. Swan whispers, "Hey, can we study together sometime?"

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. Also a thing I'm serious about: are you gonna eat that?" When Regina doesn't respond, Swan reaches over as if to nab the bag. Regina bats her hand away and pulls out the pastry, grouchily takes a bite. She makes an involuntary noise of appreciation. It's fresh and not greasy at all, bought from a local place judging by the logo on the bag. The coffee's great, too, a piping hot dark roast with fruity notes. "How did you…" she repeats, but Emma just gives her that cheeky grin and nudges Regina's forearm with her own. Regina frowns and focuses intently on taking notes as the instructor drones on and Swan sprawls comfortably next to her, arm still touching hers. Maybe a flash of heat courses through her body, but as a Starfleet science officer in training, Regina concludes it's just a physiological response to the heat and stimulus of the coffee. It has nothing to do with Emma Swan.

Nothing at all.