Rating will change to M after this chapter if I decide to continue.

This story is also published on my Archive of Their Own account Jinxit13, and updates there are usually a little in advance.

Ok, so this was a little rushed, but I really wanted to give you guys a huge thank you for your reviews before I head back to work. I promised three chapters and three chapters there are, but I'm so in love with their dynamic, I'm tempted to continue. What do you guys think?

Sorry for any mistakes as I'm sure there are many. I haven't had a chance to proof read, so many apologies in advance. I hope you enjoy!

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November extinguished itself in a rush of howling winds and driving rain as December arrived, cold as frozen iron, with hard frosts every morning and icy drafts that numbed exposed hands and faces. The eleventh month rolled seamlessly into the twelfth, complete with snow-topped canopies and Christmas lanterns. One particularly fog-laden evening, the campus surrounding the grand halls of TEP's Academy opened it's heavy oak doors to find itself covered in several feet of fresh snow, perfectly untouched. The city outside was shroud in a mixture of delighted chaos; the subway was heavily delayed, vendors were selling hot treats to willing punters with renewed festivity and yellow taxi's remained moored against the pavement, unwilling to venture away from the sidewalk as yet another snowstorm wrapped it's way around New York City. A squabble of excitable students poured through the entrance and into the grounds, ducking and diving with merry laughter as the inevitable promise of a snow fight sprung to life beneath their feet.

Three stories above the starlit campus, Regina Mills sat cross-legged behind her desk, angrily tossing one piece of paper after another into the trash can. Her pristine studio was cloaked in thick smog, heavy and suffocating; a generous Christmas tree sparkled in the corner of the room, casting a gentle glow about the studio. Her favourite candles flickered orange against the backdrop of a grey New York, casting long shadows across the vast expanse of the classroom floor. Regina pulled a fiercely sharp pencil out of her electric sharpener and tested the point, roughly inserting another pencil and allowing herself to be temporarily soothed by it's eclectic hum. She knew that she should have been ecstatic when Emma Swan had called to cancel their final rehearsal; the holidays were just around the corner and despite her initial fit of defiance, her hopeless entry for the Winter Showcase had miraculously transformed into a budding star overnight, often leaving her breathless in more ways than one. TEP's newest star had nailed the routine in their one-to-one sessions and strictly speaking, the dance didn't require any further tweaking; she'd been drilled left, right and centre, and Ms Mills finally deemed it the number to be as close to perfection as she determined the blonde capable of achieving. The exasperated teacher was finally free of the diva's gawking stares, intimate touches and rebellious smirks. Their tenuous game of give and take was in danger of becoming a popular sport, and Ms Mills was no longer confident that she had the upper hand. It was best to end their ambiguous flirtations whilst she could still see the line, but her heart had already fallen prey to the game. That's why she knew she should've have been stupidly ecstatic to be free of Emma and all the emotions she evoked, but she wasn't. She didn't know if the bad weather was to blame or if the early nights had squashed her creativity, but admitting that she was disappointed by the blonde's late-night call had dented her dwindling supply of pride beyond propriety.

Regardless of Emma's no-show performance, Regina had stayed behind after a fantastically short and albeit completely pointless faculty meeting, secretly hoping the blonde would suffer a change of heart at the last moment. The sheer hopelessness of waiting for someone she knew wouldn't appear rendered her mind useless when it came to mapping a mind-numbingly boring lesson plan for a bunch of spoilt Upper East Side seniors. As a result, she sat seething behind her desk and the longer she waited, the more her mood deteriorated. She'd allowed herself to believe, and not for the first time, that perhaps she and Little-Miss-Perfect were onto something great. Their Jive had elicited a fantastic array of whole-hearted cheers from the students in her Musical Performance, class and in turn, she'd been able to reclaim her title as TEP's Resident Bitch. The energy, the excitement and the sheer joy of dancing with someone who rose to a challenge so admirably had Ms Mills aching to dance again all over again and their rehearsals had really begun to produce fantastic results.

She sat massaging her aching temples for the fifth and final time that night before finally deciding it was time to call it quits. The vacant halls were hollow and empty, and once again, she was alone on campus. Kicking her chair away from the solid oak desk, Ms Mills gathered together her necessities, leaning across the desk to snap her laptop shut. The accompanying sound of a door swinging open in unison made her jump, and she swirled around to find Miss Swan standing just inside the door, her crestfallen face unblinking as the teacher stalled, scarf in hand, apparently surprised to find another body on campus after hours. "Miss Swan." Regina breathed, offering a tight-lipped smile to the flustered blonde. She yanked her phone free of the speakers it sat connected too, straightening her shoulders with a small grimace. "It's not like you to be roaming the halls after hours."

"I know-" Emma squirmed, an embarrassing tinge of disappointment colouring her words. "A-are you leaving?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Miss Swan." Her teachers voice was curt, though when her eyes honed in on the damp ends of Emma's hair and the adorable beanie scrunched into the palm of her hand, they inevitably softened. Snowflakes had settled on her coat, dusting the blonde with white specks and her glasses had steamed up, supposedly from racing through the ice-cold storm brewing outside. "Is there something I can help you with before I lock up?"

"Um yes..." Emma's shivering hands clasped harder around the sodden beanie in-between nervous fingers, her eyes darting to the floor self-consciously. "Well, it's just that-"

"It's just?" Regina prompted gently, sensing the trepidation in Emma's sullen eyes. The angry tension loitering between the tense blades of her shoulders suddenly dissolved into nothingness as she approached the girl cautiously, worried she'd misread their situation and landed just on the wrong-side of appropriate with a hand to her forearm. The blonde stared at her hand in awe, her eyes softening slightly at the tenderness of the teacher's gesture. "Emma, are you ok?"

In her typically dismissive fashion, Emma shrugged and side-stepped the question, sauntering her way over to the baby grand piano with an unreadable expression. The piano rested against one of three huge high-rise windows, it's black leather stool adjacent to the snow-draped fountain below. She turned and offered an uneasy smile, swiping the office key from Regina's clasped hand with a sinful smirk. Regina stood motionless, perplexed by the eerie silence that filled the studio. She watched as Emma carefully thumbed through a selection of musical symphonies balanced on top of the piano, wordlessly dropping Regina's sacred key into the pocket of her black overcoat. "Emma-"

"I'm fine." Emma bit back abruptly, holding up a dismissive hand. "I jus- I just needed to see you."

Regina took a tiny, hesitant step forward, frowning softly. The passive-aggressive glint smearing Emma's face with an unreadable tension was unnerving in a strangely delicious kind of way, but it still filled Ms Mills with an uneasy sense of dread, and she struggled to get a read on her students' intentions. "Tell me what's wrong, Emma-" she demanded once more, her tone harsher this time around.

"I said I'm fine." Emma repeated, and although her voice was forcibly cool, the scathing look in her eyes was not at all lost on the gawking brunette. She was not fine. Not in the slightest. Ms Mills had ruined her; taken her self-control and exercised her restraint to the point of no return. Their one-to-one sessions had been paramount to torture, albeit an exquisitely addictive kind designed specifically to taunt her. Her achingly hot skin called to be touched, and she swallowed around the lump in her throat angrily. Ms Mills was not the sole cause of her anger, but the teacher's contribution had nagged at Emma all day long, effecting her ability to think straight.

At 9am that morning, Emma Swan had been called out of lessons prematurely by Marian Wells, TEP's respectfully poised headmistress. The grey-haired woman had marched her through the corridors of TEP's academy, her heels clicking along the hardwood floor with long, calculated strides. Emma scurried along behind the formidable figure, wondering if the headmistress had always had such an impressive gait or if she was simply in a hurry to get her talk with Miss Swan over and done with. They floated through the empty corridors, Mrs Wells leading Emma to her office just outside the staff quarters and politely gesturing for the blonde to take a seat. Emma did as she was told, nervously crossing and then uncrossing her legs.

"Miss Swan, as I understand, you have been participating in private rehearsals with Ms Mills, correct?"

"Correct." Emma nodded, levelling the headmistress with a shy smile. "That's true."

"And as I understand, Ms Mills has honoured my decision to have you represent her at the Winter Showcase?"

"Yes." Emma confirmed, her confidence growing in the face of Marian's kindly warmth. "We've been rehearsing hard, Mrs Wells. I really think I may have a chance."

"I quite agree." Mrs Wells nodded, peering down her nose at Emma through a stylish set of black half-glasses. "But as you may be aware, Ms Mills has requested that she no longer be in charge of Musical Performance next semester, effectively taking her off-rota for the foreseeable future..."

Emma baulked at that, unable to hide her surprise. "N-n-no, I wasn't aware-"

"It came as quite a surprise to me too, I must admit." The Headmistress shifted in her seat, crossing her long, elegant legs at the knee. She reclined backwards in her chair, levelling Emma with a kind, weathered smile. "Of course this means that you will no longer need to represent Ms Mills at the Winter Showcase if you do not wish-"

"But I want too!" The blonde exclaimed, disappointment shamelessly evident her shaky voice. "I mean, we've worked so hard..."

"I can quite understand that Miss Swan." The headmistress smiled, adjusting her glasses with a stern look at the blonde's shaking hands. Her knuckles were white; she gripped the edge of her chair angrily, trying her best to look dejected, but not outright upset by Ms Mills' decision to leave her high and dry. Again.

"You have a choice. You can pull out of the Winter Showcase, or you could do us both a favour, and try your hand at convincing Ms Mills to stay."

Emma sniffed, bowing her head as she played with her hands. "And how would I do that?" she asked, her voice already defeated. She didn't believe Ms Mills would listen to her, not unless she could find a way to finally silence the brunette and lay down the law - her law - in a way that would be respected. She could try appealing to her teacher's better side, but she wasn't entirely sure she had one. Every time she saw a fleeting look of vulnerability, a tiny reminder that she was in fact duelling in an intense power struggle with a decent and kind human being, it was wiped away with some cleverly biting remark, designed specifically to send Emma reeling.

"Listen, Miss Swan. I do not believe for a second that Ms Mills is an easy woman to bargain with, but I also do not believe that she would walk away from this school without good reason. Perhaps your insistence would remind her that she is in fact a valuable asset to our faculty, but also to your personal experience here."

Emma bit down on her bottom lip, hard, wondering what had inspired this U-turn of Ms Mills'. Mrs Wells accepted her unspoken agreement with a warm smile, standing to dismiss the blonde with a kind squeeze to her shoulder. "Good luck Miss Swan." The headmistress said with a hopeful amount of sincerity as Emma hurriedly scraped her belongings off the floor and prepared for battle of wills with TEP's very own Queen B. Good luck indeed.

Now, silhouetted in the golden-white ore of the moon, Emma Swan found herself toying with the hem of her shirt, slowly lifting to reveal a little more of her lacy, black leotard with a ravenous look in her eye. Her molten eyes were harsh and unforgiving in half-light, boring into Regina's disbelieving eyes with unaltered lust. Her cheeks were still flushed from the snow; her eyes bright and dangerous. Her wavy, blonde hair fell over both shoulders, tumbling towards her waist in tousled tendrils. The fitted bodice of her leotard left little to the imagination, and Ms Mills' mouth fell open as Emma exposed her toned thighs, bending over to remove the sheer shirt that had previously protected her modesty. She held out her hand expectantly, the corners of her mouth pulling upwards as Ms Mills stared at her impossibly long legs, dumbfounded. The teacher was stood with her arms folded across her chest, her cashmere coat draped delicately across her shoulders. She baulked away from Emma's advances, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. The blonde's face was uncharacteristically still on the surface, dangerous and unmoving and Regina wondered why Emma had never brought that steely exterior to their lessons. She released a breath she didn't realise she was holding when Emma's outstretched hand found purchase on the soft fabric of her coat, forcibly closing the gap between them. Barely concealed cleavage pressed against Ms Mill's silk shirt, begging to be kneaded with talented hands as the velvet voice hissed it's request with a roll of her tongue, painfully close to Ms Mill's ear. "Come." Emma demanded, testing the boundaries of student conduct with a lick of her sinful lips. "Dance with me?"

"Need I remind you that you are dangerously close to crossing yet another line here, Miss Swan." The teacher chastised, her confident façade dissipating with each new roll of Emma's insatiable eyes. Regina sneered at the blonde through dark lashes, but another insistent rake of Emma's nails over her torso sent her sliding in compliance, her fingers ghosting over Emma's wrist and into her outstretched hand.

The blonde let out a cool, detached laugh that didn't sound as if it belonged to her, walking Regina backwards towards the docking station. "Phone." she commanded, smirking as the teacher lazily searched her pockets, pretending to be completely unaffected by the intensity of Emma's touch; the way her finger's lingered over her hips possessively and scraped at the warm flesh, marring her delicate skin with heavy red scratches. Regina wrestled to control the way her body reacted, reminding herself that the student was nothing more than a girl, and whilst she had no desire to be Emma's first, the mere thought turned her body limp. Her breathing was heavy as she fumbled through the available playlists, hitting play when Emma grunted her approval. The Weeknd's hit 'Earned It' immediately spilled from the speakers, and Emma spun them both around without warning, slamming their overheated bodies together, and fixing her flabbergasted teacher with a glare that said "Well this is what you want, isn't it?"

Regina's head was spinning so hard it hurt, but before she could assert the fractured remains of her dominance over the blonde, Emma had both of her hands in a vicelike grip, forcing them high above her head. She slammed the brunette against the steam-ridden window, using her lips to hold her in place as Ms Mills' overcoat fell to a pool at her feet. Her free hand grabbed at Regina's sleek hair and yanked downwards, bringing her rouged lips upwards until their lips were pressed firmly together, their tongues joining together in a recklessly erotic duel for dominance. Regina moaned unrepentantly against Emma's open mouth, allowing her bruising tongue access. Without any hint of regret or pre-emption, Emma took full advantage, her tongue expertly exploring her teacher's mouth with her own.

All Regina had ever intended to do was facilitate in the blonde's transition from a sheltered schoolgirl to a self-assured woman; she'd wanted to dirty her up a bit so that she could fulfil her potential and tap into the parts of herself that she was too inhibited to share. A couple of weeks ago, she thought it would be easy to walk away when her work was done, but now that it was apparent the blonde screws like she sings – she puts her heart and soul into it and holds nothing back - and now it was even harder not to get caught up in the heat of the moment. Ms Mills' was desperately trying to keep a safe distance and stay detached (she knew how much goodbyes hurt and she didn't intend on ever getting that close to someone again, even if it meant all she ever offered the blonde was an insight into life beyond the missionary position), but the diva still seemed intent on bridging the gap between them, both physically and mentally. It made Regina want to push her to breaking point; to say whatever it took to drive Emma away, because she knew it was only a matter of time before the blonde would arrive at the inevitable conclusion that they were never going to work out; that they were about as compatible as Liza Minnelli and David Gest. Regina could've coped with the back-and-forth banter, the countless confrontations, and the perverse pleasure she derived from getting Emma all riled up in rehearsals without strictly breaching any rules, but this was a whole new ball game. One she wasn't willing to play. Instead of hating Emma's guts, she was actually starting to care about the blonde; her past and present self included. The thought that Emma's feelings had reached a point where they took precedence over her own startled her, and she arched away from Emma's bruising kiss, bracing her hands against the blonde's tense shoulders. "E-Emma, stop." She moaned, relishing the taste of a stranger on her tongue as the blonde pulled backwards, growling inwardly. "Emma, we have to stop."

"Why?" Emma bit back, her tone so uncharacteristically heated and unchecked, it actually took Ms Mills by surprise. There was no trace of tears in her voice, nor in the aggressive way she remained pressed against Regina, her arms once again bridged against the window above their heads. Her eyes were narrowed, rigid, hot and hard. In that moment, Regina knew she was already far away and once more, she had become the enemy. These turbulent swings from most loved to the most hated teacher will be the death of me, she thought to herself, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind Emma's ear. She drew in a deep breath, telling herself that Emma's burning hard stare would only last as long as it took her to think of the most brutally cutting thing she could tear her down with. That was their game after all; or at least it had been. But this was different, and Regina was truly regretting ever playing with fire in the first place. She waited for one insult after another to blister her carefully crafted exterior, but they never came. Emma was staring at her with soft, inquisitive eyes, seemingly perplexed by the teacher's unlikely show of affection. "But it's not like you're actually my teacher anymore. Right?"

Oh. "You know about that?"

"Yes," Emma admitted, her voice finally crumbling. "I do. But that's what I can't understand. Why wouldn't you tell me that you hated teaching me so much you'd rather quit than be near me?"

"We're no good for each other, Emma." Regina breathed, her back still arched against the snow-flecked window, relishing the defusing effect it's cool surface had against her overheated skin. "I'm no good for you."

Emma stayed rooted to the spot, a welcome breeze moving her hair softly away from the cheekbones that had become so much more prominent over the previous weeks. Her features buckled just slightly before she spoke, the only betrayal of her grief. "Ms Mills look at me. Please." The brunette hesitantly complied, peering at the blonde beneath lidded eyelashes, her eyes unconsciously brushing back to the floor. Unexpectedly, Emma's hand drifted to her hip. It settled there and pulled her closer. She inhaled sharply. She was against the blonde's warm chest, chiselled to perfection. Regina splayed her hand against it, intending to push the younger girl away, but instead she left it there. Emma's breathing quickened, wordlessly waiting to see if Regina would wrestle with her emotions now, or lend herself over to Emma's touch without argument. She began nuzzling the brunette's long neck with delicate kisses. So faint, they were whispers. Regina urged herself to push away, but couldn't. Her limp body began to tremble uncontrollably. Her head was angled slightly to the side as the blonde's searching lips came closer and closer to hers. She was surprised to find her own lips parted, ready for the softness of Emma's bruised lips. Their breaths mingled. Her heart fluttered inside her chest. At first, it was a delicate butterfly of a kiss. Then Emma's arms encircled her, the tenderness of her kiss taking them both by surprise. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Regina's hand rested below Emma's ear, her thumb caressing her cheek as their lips grazed tentatively against each other, slowly exploring their new dynamic with aching precision. The student ran her fingers down Regina's spine, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the beating of Ms Mill's melting heart against her chest.

"Could you..." Emma trailed off, gesturing to the floor, and Regina cocked her brow questioningly.

"I think you're forgetting that I'm there one who calls the shot here, Miss Swan."

"But I'm the one who has the key." Emma reminded her with a smug smile, and Regina gritted her teeth.

"Fine, where do you want me?" Regina drawled, and when Emma dropped to her knees, the teacher slowly followed suit.

"All those times I helped you cool down, do you have any idea how much I wanted too..." Emma's voice trailed off, dipping dangerously low as she reached for Regina's leg, anchoring it against her shoulder, and gently stretching it out. The blonde traced the light outline of Regina's calf, and then her shin, dragging out the delicious torture for as long as possible. Then, she dropped an open kiss against the tender spot behind Regina's knee - which the brunette had no idea was so sensitive - and smiled when Regina let out a strangled gasp, squirming as the blonde inched higher and higher.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Regina cursed, turning her attention to the full-length mirrors behind the barre. In a room full of snow and twilight, with Ty Dolla $ign's Or Nah humming through the speakers, the spark in her eyes was electrified as she locked sight of the blonde lying between her legs, enthusiastically preparing to eat her out, smothering her quaking thighs in open-mouthed kisses. It was the single most erotic experience of her life and she arched against the floor, gasping for breath. "Fuck." She moaned, fisting her hair with a guttural sigh. Shit, she panicked, watching Emma with lust-filled eyes. I'm screwed.