A/N: Thank you for the follows, favorites and reviews! I realized I don't know how to count or my roman numeral skills are lacking, and so I lied in my A/N from yesterday. This fic is actually in 13 sections, not 12. So that means this update has 4 sections instead of only three. Enjoy vignettes IV-VII :)
IV.
Two weeks pass by, and fortunately for both parties, there have only been minor verbal confrontations during class with Regina's most frustrating instructor. Emma has still been challenging Regina to participate in class, and Regina has been dishing it back with bitter sarcasm at every opportunity. If Regina is honest with herself, she almost enjoys the constant power play…especially when she feels like she's winning. And Emma doesn't back down easily, which makes it even more thrilling. Rarely anyone rises to her level of challenge.
As Emma hands out a test during the fourth week of the semester, she can't help but watch Regina with intrigue as the brunette works on her exam, a persuasive analytical essay on gender as a social construct. Unlike the other students who are hunched over their desks and writing furiously, Regina sits up straight and maintains her composure, taking her time as she puts pen to paper. She occasionally chews on the end of her blue pen cap, which seems awfully unrefined for the brunette. Emma thinks it makes her look almost like a normal student, instead of the pain in the ass enigma that she is.
Regina knows she's being watched. It's not hard to tell, as she's always had a knack for knowing when someone is staring at her — it was a common occurrence growing up in a small town as the child of two prominent local figures, especially given that she was rarely "home" due to her boarding school schedule. She often turned a lot of heads when she was back in town.
She takes a break from the exam to shake out her hand, as she's not used to writing this much all at once, and looks up as she massages the cramp in her palm. She raises an eyebrow in challenge at her blonde instructor, who she catches mid-stare. Regina deliberately brings her index finger to her mouth, delicately biting the end of her nail and running it across her lips as she looks back down at her paper as though she's in deep concentration. If Ms. Swan wants something to look at, she'll give it to her.
Emma quickly averts her eyes and looks at the rest of the class, awkwardly shifting in her seat before deciding to take a quick walk around the room, just to make sure everyone is keeping their eyes on their own paper.
As she makes her way down Regina's row, the brunette changes the cross of her legs, which is just enough movement that she knows she's captured Emma's attention. She looks up at the blonde as the woman approaches, smiling as she picks up her paper and holds it out toward her instructor. "All done, Ms. Swan."
Emma furrows her brow as she looks down at her Fitbit on her wrist, noting the time. Only 24 minutes have passed of the hour-long exam. "Already?"
"What can I say?" Regina smiles, noting the scoffs and scowls from her classmates, who are still working frantically to finish before the end of the class session. "May I be excused now?"
"Of course," Emma says, accepting the paper from Regina. "Have a good rest of your morning."
Regina smirks as she picks up her purse from where it hangs on the back of her desk chair. "Thank you," she says as she brushes past the blonde, exiting through the back door of the classroom and out into the crisp fall air.
As Emma grades the essay exams that evening, accompanied by a glass of pinot grigio, she frowns as she writes a red "D" on the top of Regina's first page. She scribbles down a note: I'd highly recommend you make use of my office hours. You may be able to salvage your grade if you start taking this seriously and trying a little harder. If you're not willing to do the work, then drop the class so you don't fail. Your choice.
When the brunette storms up to the front of the room after their next class two days later, holding her nearly-failed exam in her hand, Emma braces herself for the verbal torrent she knows she's about to receive. She sits there and takes it, allows the younger woman to say her piece, surprised that Regina seems to exercise some self-restraint, stopping short of actually using profanity as she protests the grade.
"Are you done?" Emma asks, unamused. When the brunette just stands there, glaring, she continues. "Regina, I didn't even assign you a side to analyze. You could have argued that it wasn't a social construct and that would've been fine as long as you made a logical, well-reasoned argument. You didn't even remotely address the prompt."
"Well, it's a stupid prompt," she says, all but shoving the exam into Emma's hands.
"That's not really my problem, now is it?" Emma sasses back. "Look, Regina, you don't suck as a writer. Clearly you're capable of writing a high quality paper. So either you're intentionally blowing off the work in this class for some reason, or you are legitimately struggling with grasping the content. I can't help you if it's the former, but if it's the latter, I'm happy to work with you if you come to office hours."
Regina's blank expression stares back at Emma. She quickly casts her eyes down at the failed exam in Emma's hands, snatches it back, and storms out of the room.
V.
"I must admit, I'm surprised you showed," Emma says the following Monday morning, looking up from the essay she's been grading.
Regina begrudgingly sits down across from her, placing her to-go cup of coffee on the table. "I said I would, didn't I?" she huffs as she shrugs off her black leather jacket. It's early October, and the temperatures have started to noticeably drop outside.
"You did," Emma nods, watching the other woman as she settles into the opposite chair.
"Nice office," Regina comments.
"Thanks," Emma deadpans.
It's not an office at all. As a graduate student, Emma doesn't get the luxury of having her own space on the small campus. Instead, she holds her office hours at the coffee shop a block away from campus on Main Street.
"Is there a particular topic you want to start with?" Emma asks before sipping her own coffee and putting the essay she had been reading back into her folder.
"Not really," Regina shrugs.
"Okay, well why don't you let me know what questions you have."
The brunette says nothing, just sips her coffee, her eyes focusing on a lone crumb on the table.
Emma sighs and runs a hand through her long blonde hair, her fingers getting tangled briefly in some of her curls. She can tell this is going to be like pulling teeth. "Okay….so why don't you tell me a bit more about you, then?"
Regina looks up, surprised by the suggestion. "What? Why?"
"Maybe it would help me figure out where your issues lie."
"I thought you were planning to be a sociologist, not a psychologist. I don't need to be psychoanalyzed," she says, her eyes narrowing. I get enough of that from my mother, Regina thinks, but doesn't vocalize the addendum.
"I don't mean 'issues' like that. I mean issues with the course work."
"Oh," Regina says. "Sure, I guess…"
And so she tells her story, or a modified and abbreviated version of it, rather. She still refuses to reveal her familial relationship with the college president and dean.
"Wow, Harvard? Really?" Emma asks when the opportunity arises.
"Yep," Regina nods. "Really." She had debated whether to admit where she had spent the first three years of her undergraduate career, but she knows it would be easy enough for Emma to find out, if she really wanted to. Hell, all she would have to do is go and search for her on Facebook — Regina still hasn't updated her profile to reflect her new school…it's too embarrassing. She hopes that most of her Harvard acquaintances think that she is studying abroad or graduated early, and that the ones who know the truth will keep their mouths shut.
"Interesting. Why did you leave?"
"No reason," Regina says, grabbing a napkin off the table and tearing the sides until it resembles fringe.
Emma doesn't press the issue and instead changes the subject back to the matter at hand. "Okay. So, don't take this the wrong way, but it sounds like you've had a pretty limited experience in terms of who you've been around most of your life. Boarding school, ivy league college…you are clearly well off."
"That's not my fault."
"I know it's not. We can't help the circumstances we're born into, and it's not a bad thing, Regina. I'm not saying that it is. I'm simply saying that maybe you're struggling with the core concepts of the social inequality course because you haven't ever been faced with it."
"There were poor people at Harvard," she rebuts.
"I'm sure there were, but I'm guessing there were a lot of really wealthy people, too, and that you were running in different circles when you weren't in your economics and business classes. Am I wrong?"
Regina says nothing.
"I thought that might be the case."
"But that stupid test wasn't about socioeconomic issues. This is irrelevant," she protests, not liking that the blonde is calling her out.
"True, it wasn't directly, but it's still all part of the larger issue. Money doesn't solve every problem, but things like pay disparity based on gender, while still unfair when it happens in the six- or seven-figure salary range, can feel more dire to those living paycheck to paycheck. The option of being a stay-at-home or a working mother presents itself differently in different socioeconomic classes. The issues surrounding gender norms are different in different communities. And I'm guessing that your boarding school may not have gone into deep discussions on social issues, given that the administration probably wanted to keep the rich parents happy and tuition dollars flowing, and that many of them were quite conservative, am I wrong?"
"I fail to see how that—"
"That's exactly my point, Regina. We're all a product of our upbringing and our environment…I'm sure you're familiar with the nature versus nurture debate. It sounds like you may not have had the opportunity to be exposed to many people from backgrounds different than your own. You're always so quick to brush off the what the other students describe as their experiences. You need to be more open to listening when they talk about what they have seen and done in their lives. You might just learn something, enough that you wouldn't be failing my class."
VI.
"Wait, seriously?" Regina laughs as she stabbed the graham cracker crust with her fork. "You can't be serious."
"Oh, I'm deadly serious," Emma chuckles before sipping her hot chocolate. "His face was priceless."
"Sorry to interrupt, ladies, but we need to close," Ruby says as she clears off the table next to the one in the back corner where Emma and Regina have been camping out for hours.
"Oh, shit, I didn't even realize it was that late," Emma apologizes to the waitress. "We'll get out of your hair."
"No worries," Ruby smiles before flitting off to grab the mop from the janitorial closet in the back, moving to work on the floors behind the counter.
Regina looks down at her watch. "Oh, wow, it is late," she comments unnecessarily. "Anyway, thanks for meeting with me."
"Of course," Emma says, tossing her folders and book haphazardly into her tote bag. "But I'm not sure how much help I was. We got a little off-topic."
"True," Regina nods as she gathers her own materials. "But, it was a nice break from an otherwise intense subject. It's been nice to learn more about the woman behind Professor Swan," she teases. Somewhere over the course of meeting twice per week during Emma's office hours over the past month, they've managed to push past their mutual hostility and now enjoy one another's company.
"Happy to oblige." Emma smiles as she stands up and drops a twenty dollar bill on the table as a tip for Ruby. Her bill had been less than a third of that and she already paid it an hour earlier, but she has been occupying the table for hours and feels guilty.
Regina follows Emma out of the café, waving goodbye to Ruby as she steps out onto the sidewalk. "Thanks again," she says when they're outside, the late hour bringing on the feeling of winter on the mid-November night.
"You're welcome," Emma smiles. "Have a great Thanksgiving."
Regina watches as the blonde turns to head down the sidewalk. "Emma, wait," she calls after her as she toys with the keys in her hand.
She stops and turns around, hands firmly in her the pockets of her burgundy leather jacket to ward off the chill. "Yeah?"
"Would you like a ride home?"
"Oh, um…that's really not appropriate, Regina," Emma cautions, causing the brunette to roll her eyes.
"There have been an uptick in muggings and drunk college frat brothers trying to assault women out walking alone at night. I think it would be more inappropriate for me to let you walk home alone. Plus, it's freezing."
"I can call an Uber."
"It's the last night before students leave for Thanksgiving…I imagine all four of the Ubers in this town are probably busy giving students rides home from the Rabbit Hole. Just let me drive you. Or are you afraid I'll start stalking you if I know where you live?"
Now it's Emma's turn to roll her eyes. "Fine," she says as she begrudgingly walks back toward the brunette, opens the passenger door of the sleek black Mercedes, and gets inside.
VII.
"So, are you ever going to tell me why you left Harvard right before your senior year?" Emma asks Regina one early December afternoon as they work in Dr. Charles Midas' office. Earlier that morning, Regina had refused to drop an argument she was having with another student in his class, so this is her punishment — reorganizing the past 15 years of his coursepacks. Emma, meanwhile, sits on the old brown leather couch in the corner, editing his newest paper for a journal submission. Dr. Midas is Emma's thesis advisor, and as she is his 'most promising' student, she's been awarded the honor of reviewing his manuscript. He is nowhere to be seen, but he trusts Emma to keep watch over the woman who he called 'the entitled delinquent' in his absence.
"There's not much to tell," Regina says as she digs through another file drawer.
"Somehow I doubt that. Most students don't leave their school a year before they graduate. And most colleges wouldn't accept a transfer student as a senior. Colleges generally like their students to actually take the majority of their coursework at the school from which they're earning their degree. You're taking what, maybe 24 semester hours this year? There's got to be a story there."
Regina tenses momentarily, but Emma doesn't catch it. She's too busy fixing a punctuation error in the paper in front of her. "Well, it is Harvard. Most colleges wouldn't argue with transfer credit from there... It's not like I would get more rigorous courses here," she says, before quickly adding, "and I took some classes here in summer school before leaving for college, so I have enough credits to make it work." Her words are partially true. She does have some existing credit, but her parents did pull some strings to get her graduation requirements modified, allowing her to use her Harvard courses as the majority of her degree to prevent delaying her graduation by a year.
"I see," Emma says, looking up from the article she's been annotating. "If I guess the reason, will you tell me if I'm right?"
Regina looks over from the filing cabinet, where she's currently elbow-deep in photocopies of old articles. "Why do you care so much?"
"I'm an academic. I'm inquisitive and like a good mystery. And something doesn't add up."
Regina shakes her head and resumes her mundane task. "You can guess, but it doesn't mean I'll confirm it."
"Fine….Cheating?"
"Never."
"Sick family member you need to care for?"
"Not even close."
"Illicit drug use?"
"No."
"Failing out?"
"I've never failed a course in my life."
"Well, my class isn't over yet, and there's always a first time for everything," Emma sasses before continuing her guessing game. "Sleeping with a professor?"
Regina's eyebrow raises at that. "No," she says, deliberately. "And frankly, highly inappropriate for you to even suggest that."
"Am I getting close with any of these?"
Regina shrugs. "Give me an A in your class and excuse me from all the remaining assignments and I'll tell you right now."
Emma blatantly ignores her attempt at negotiation. "Stealing?"
"No."
"I know you didn't drop out because you couldn't afford tuition anymore," Emma teases.
"Funny."
"Okay, I'm all out of ideas."
"Then, I guess you'll never know."
"Oh, come on."
Regina laughs. "Why is this so important to you?"
"I'm bored. I need a break from fixing Charlie's run-on sentences."
"Charlie? Do you actually call him that?"
"Not to his face, and if you say anything to him I'll deny it. And don't change the subject."
Regina puts the file in her hands in its rightful spot and turns around. "Would you believe me if I said I was making porn videos with a webcam in my dorm room?"
"No, I wouldn't. And I'm pretty sure that's not something they can expel you for anyway. That student at Duke never got in trouble for it. Freedom of speech and all that."
"You're right. That wasn't it," she says, slamming the open filing cabinet shut with her hip. "See you in class tomorrow, Ms. Swan."
A/N: And to answer the question from several reviews: yes, you'll find out why Regina had to leave Harvard in the final installment ;) I'd love to hear your predictions. Do you think Emma actually correctly guessed?
I don't think I'll be able to post tomorrow, so part three will be up on Tuesday morning at the latest. The last chapter will then be up on Wednesday. Thanks for reading!