Deadly Class
Emma sees a hot professor who makes it hard to concentrate in class. Regina sees a pliable student that is key to her revenge. What will happen when the two collide? All that is certain, is this is one class that will leave lasting impressions on both women for better or for worse. College AU. Student/teacher AU.
Class One: Psychology 101
A/N: So, a teacher fic for SQ. It was about time I tried my hand at one. Updates for this story will be every other Saturday. Let me know what ya think of it.
Some might call it corruption the fact that Emma got into Storybrooke University. Every one of her high school friends and teachers knew she wasn't smart enough to have the needed SAT score to be accepted there. And neither was her essay that riveting. Simply put, Emma Swan was not an extraordinary person. She was ordinary. So ordinary that it was a fact that translated and ascribed to everything in her life. Ordinary grades, just barely scraping past a C. Ordinary athletic ability- her being fit enough to be healthy but not so that she was first, second, or even tenth pick for a team. Ordinary social life. She had a few good friends as she wasn't a loser or loner but neither was she popular. And she and her friends never really did any cool stuff, just watched movies and talked games.
And her looks were ordinary too. She may have princess curls and green eyes and those two dimples in her smile, but it'd never garnered the attention of boys or girls. Which meant her love life was ordinary too. And by ordinary, she meant just pining after hot celebrities and reading self insert stories about them on the web.
Being ordinary sucked a bit, especially given who her parents were.
David was the president of the University, lauded for his new developmental projects on making the school more eco friendly.
And Mary was a star professor, chair of the Education department and founder of a charity that helped homeless children worldwide.
And that was only the tip of the iceberg for their accomplishments. They had so many more and it blinded Emma, made her feel beat and worthless next to them. But she just...never really had the drive for it. She supposed she just wasn't properly motivated is all. Maybe all she needed was that one spark to light up her life, to fuel her into her full potential.
All she knew was that she didn't deserve her acceptance letter to Storybrooke and she knew that her father had pulled strings to get her in. She didn't have the heart to say no and so accepted, already feeling buried under tons of pressure. Her parents wanted the best for her. They wanted her to be smart like them. Outgoing like them. A success like them. And each time their disappointed faces showed up at each failure to get an award, she felt her heart throb in pain.
"Maybe next time, sweetie," Mary had said.
"College is where you'll truly bloom," David had cheered falsely.
And she smiled awkwardly at them and pretended like their expectations weren't going to bury her alive.
Don't get her wrong, she wanted to do good academically. And socially. And mentally. But it was a lot at times. She was a chill easy going person who just wanted to float by in life. To make as little ripples as she could. Her parents weren't about that. They were all about being out there and doing things and she'd get dragged along to do them with them. She just couldn't be perpetually happy like they were. Anxiety was a real thing.
Still, she was excited for college. It was a whole new world of experience and maybe she would bloom there. Get to know herself a bit better. Maybe join some clubs, do some good.
Picking out classes was fun, though she had come in without an inkling as to what she wanted to major in, which of course had been another point of contention for her parents.
"She doesn't know what she wants to do! How can we help her?" she had over heard Mary fretting from downstairs, long when they believed Emma to be asleep only for the blonde to be up, stressing over move in day.
"Relax, Mary. This is a liberal arts place. She'll have two years to figure it out," David had assured.
"But what if she doesn't know? What then? Emma's always been a drifter with no clear life goals." Mary's voice rose in pitch.
"I know she is, but we'll do our best to support her decisions," David had concluded and Emma had sighed out, malcontent.
Thus, she was picking out every single intro class for any major that tugged at her interest. Psychology, business, international affairs, and even anthropology. All in all, she was taking 16 credits which was the max amount.
She'd shown her parents the classes and they had smiled, proud of her initiative, until their eyes had landed on one class.
"Sweetie, are you sure you want to take that class?" Mary had asked.
"Uh, yes. Why?" Emma asked uncertainly.
"Are you sure?" Mary stressed, smile fake on her face. David's had dropped and he looked entirely uncomfortable.
"I need an intro class for psych if I want to check if I'll be good in that major," she explained, weirded out by her parents reaction.
"You can take one next semester," Mary said. "It'll be with a different professor."
"Is something wrong with the current professor?" Emma asked, not quite understanding.
David shook his head. "No...I suppose not," he sighed out. "She's just a harsh grader and we don't think you should take someone so challenging for your first semester." Mary gave him a look, a look that conveyed hidden meaning.
What were they hiding from her? She didn't like that, and it pushed her to stubbornly want to take that class even more.
"You told me not to be a quitter," she responded with because her parents always believed in pushing to the limit and always made Emma follow through with her choices.
David opened his mouth, freezing. She had a point there.
"I suppose if you want to take it you can," he finally settled on, and the issue was dropped for now, leaving none of them satisfied.
The first day of college arrived in a flurry. The campus wasn't far from where Emma lived. Only a ten minute car ride.
It was an colonial style campus, been around since the Puritans without much change. It was big too, housing many buildings and benches and lots of woodland for Mary loved nature and had inspired David to plant tons of trees and hire a landscaping team to make sure the place was overflowing with flora when spring struck.
Overall it was a very nice campus, though the dorms were a bit small and dank. But that could just be the musk of all the people living there.
Emma moved in all her stuff with the help of her mother, who didn't have a class until the afternoon. Classes didn't start for Emma today, but she did have a freshman orientation. Her roommate had already moved in a week ago and her side of the room was covered with rock posters, red affects, and lots of clothes. She was going to be messy, Emma could already tell. Which was great, because Emma was messy too.
"Have a wonderful day, sweetie," Mary had kissed Emma on both cheeks and left the room, opening the door right in a girl's face.
"Whoa, my b," the girl said, backing up only to be unable to escape a surprise hug from Mary. "You must be the roommate, Ruby. Take good care of Emma, you hear?" Mary said, and Ruby blinked in shock while Emma's face steamed at her mother's antics.
She only hoped Ruby wouldn't think her lame for this now.
"Uh, sure," Ruby mumbled out, finally relieved that Mary was releasing her hold on her and was gone with a happy little squeal.
Ruby watched her go, still looking deeply disturbed. "Your mom...is so happy," she settled on and turned inquiring eyes on Emma. "Is she always like this?"
"Apparently doctors say she was born with a smile," Emma shrugged. "Trust me, I am nothing like her."
"Good," Ruby nodded her head. "Cuz I pretty much like dark and depressing things," she gestured to her outfit, which was consistent of much pleather, black colors, and studs. She even had a septum piercing. And there was raccoon eye shadow around her eyes. Emma thought that trend had died out in middle school.
"My name's Emma Swan," Emma stuck out her hand and Ruby fist bumped it, instead of shaking it.
"Cool. I'm Ruby Lucas," she drawled and casually pulled out a flask from her inside pocket. "You down for a drink? Nothing like going drunk to freshman orientation."
Emma shook her head. "I've...never actually drank before," she admitted. None of her previous friend group had, so why do it if they didn't?
Ruby snorted. "Girl, you are missing out. But I swear to you, I'll get you drunk one day." She took a hearty swing. "Alright, let's go to orientation now," she swung an arm over Emma's shoulder, "And along the way you can tell me all about yourself so we can figure out if we're going to be friends or not."
Ruby turns out to be a pretty chill person. And a friendly one at that. She knows a lot of people on campus already because of going to some pre-op programs and that's why only on Emma's second day of college, she's sitting with upperclassman, attempting to do her work.
She's been to her business and finance classes and frankly they are underwhelming. She's thinking of transferring out. She hopes her other classes will be much more interesting and when the students exchange schedules at the table, hers is the only one that gets quite a visceral reaction.
"Mills?" Ruby says and actually gulps. That cannot bond well.
"Yea, what about her?" Emma asks warily. She got the same reaction from her mother and father.
"I heard all about her. She's tough. And mean. Drop her class."
Emma shakes her head. "She can't be that bad."
"I took her last semester," Belle pipes up and her face is pale. "I got a C minus in her class. I barely passed."
Emma is quiet a moment. "You can't be serious." She may only know Belle for a few days but already the girl's perfectionist traits are well known. Belle is studious through and through and she's talked about her perfect A's in all her classes.
"I am. Her class ruined my whole overall GPA and now it's permanently on my record," Belle scowls into her book, managing to take notes, read, and hold a conversation all at once.
Emma rakes a hand through her hair. She doesn't want to just drop the class on a whim. She'll go to the first three classes and then decide for herself what to do. She still has about two weeks before she won't be able to drop any of her classes. "I think I'll see for myself."
"Suit yourself," Ruby shrugs. "But we warned you." Her eyes are grave. Emma can't help but laugh.
"I'll be fine."
Famous last words.
The day of her Psychology 101 class arrives and Emma goes in with a mixture of dread and curiosity at meeting the so called tough as shit professor. Emma already wants to drop two classes but she's limited to one drop per semester, so she's really going to have to see if dropping psych outweighs boring business or frumpy finance.
She's sitting anxiously, rearranging her materials in front of her, and wiping her sweaty palms on her pants. The students are quiet, all freshman who don't know each other and who have no incentive to talk yet or get to know one another.
As the clock ticks nearer to three, a serious of clacking noises come from down the hall as someone in heels approaches. And then, seconds later, the professor of the class arrives.
For all their warnings, nobody bothered to tell Emma that Professor Mills was smoking hot. Her jaw hangs open and she inhales sharply.
Emma doesn't think she's seen a hotter woman before in her life, and all her celebrity crushes pale in comparison to the sudden obsession her brain and heart put on her over this damned woman. Emma does an unabashed rake from bottom to top, taking in the power heels, the black silk stockings, the tight pencil skirt, the clinched buttoned up shirt undone to the third bottom and nearly revealing cleavage, to the burgundy colored lips on a face sculpted by gods. Brunette hair sweeps around her face, pressed to perfection and matching the color of her eyes perfectly.
Suffice to say, Emma was not expecting this. At all.
It's a lot to take in, and Emma feels momentarily lost. Like she has been displaced from reality. She swallows shakily and tears her eyes from the professor, glad to see she isn't the only one visibly affected. She can spot a few flushed faces which makes her feel slightly better about her own gandering and pathetic instant crushing.
"Good afternoon class," Professor Mills greets once she steps behind her desk, setting down the files there.
And even her voice. It sends shivers of delight down Emma's spine and she can't quite explain what the hell is happening to her. She lets her nails bite into the palm of her hand, hoping it'll calm her down a bit.
The pain helps with the clarity only a little.
No one says anything in response, so she repeats more loudly, "good afternoon class." This time they snap back with a response.
"Good afternoon," they chorus out and Emma tries to as well, but her throat is too dry. All that comes out is an unintelligible grunt.
"This is an intro course, but don't let that fool you. I will be treating you as if you know this material on pains of life or death. The rumors you heard about me being a hard grader are true. If you are used to getting A's and coasting by in doing school work, leave my classroom now." Her voice is hard and her eyes even harder. It only makes heat coil in Emma's stomach, leaving her deeply worrying about why the fuck she is getting so turned on by her professor when she barely knows her.
Several students get up and walk out; the professor doesn't spare them another glance.
"Now, that that is out of the way, it is time for roll call. Tell me your name, intended major if you have one, and a fact about yourself," she says briskly. "And do be quick, despite what your other professors do, we will not be having a syllabus week in this class. We will be diving right into the lesson."
She starts with the first name, and some boy in the back raises his hand, shooting off some facts about himself. But Emma can barely pay attention, worried about what she'll say when it's her turn. She wouldn't be so damned nervous if it was any other professor but it's Professor Mills and she wants to somehow impress her with her introduction, ridiculous as that sounds.
At long last it comes to the S's and in this time Emma has run through thousands of things to say, none of which satisfy her.
Professor Mills leans her hands against the table, the dark curtain of her hair blocking some of her face.
When she gets to where Emma's name should be, she pauses before looking up. "Well, well," she clicks her tongue and something devious, almost devilishly intrigued, lights up her face. "What an honor. I didn't know I would have president David's and professor Mary Blanchard's daughter in my class."
Emma can't tell if the words are mocking or not. All she knows is that her face is heating up from this unneeded attention. She sinks lower into her seat.
"I hope you understand that just because your parents run this school, does not mean I will be giving you special treatment. I expect you to work hard for your grades just like everyone else. Is that clear?" Regina eyes Emma hard and Emma nods her head frantically so, just so she can get all the attention off of her. The rest of her classmates are murmuring and looking at her and she hates that. Hates being singled out.
"Good," Regina purrs, delighted, and that sound nearly throws Emma into a frenzy for another reason. "Now, tell us a little about yourself."
That is the last thing Emma can focus on right now, a combination of embarrassment and confusing arousal dampening her thinking processes.
"I'm...uh undeclared and my major is Emma Swan. I mean," she winces at her verbal gaff while a few students snicker unkindly. "I mean I'm Emma Swan and I'm currently, uh, undeclared." Her voice is small and she just wishes for this to move on.
"And a fact about yourself?" Regina presses, drawing out Emma's suffering not that Emma can a hundred percent complain on this because having Regina pay attention to her is both a blessing and a curse.
"I, uh, don't have one."
"Certainly you must have one. A hobby you like to do. A sport you're good at. Travels you've been on."
Emma shakes her head, blanking on her whole life. She couldn't even tell when her birthday is if asked right now.
"Really? Nothing?" Regina says almost contemptuously, tilting her head like a cat assessing it's prey.
"Well, I'm taking this class," Emma shrugs, giving up.
That prompts a smile to Regina's lips.
"And you are certainly brave for that," she concludes on before mercifully moving on, and Emma lets out a huge exhale. When roll call is over, Professor Mills launches into a lecture, passing out notes along the way.
Emma spends the rest of the period desperately trying and failing to concentrate on the subject. She instead utilizes all her brain capacities to keep track of every little move Regina makes. The way she gesticulates with her hands. The way she pronounces certain words. The way she cuts apart student responses.
Whenever her professor turns to look at her, Emma busies herself with her notes, though her note book looks like the scribbles of a madmen, for Emma has only caught the end of phrases and doodled hearts all along it like some middle schooler.
Class ends and Emma packs her stuff up quickly, deciding she needs a quiet moment with some coffee and herself, before she can unpack everything that just happened. But as she is scurrying away, she hears the professor call her name and her veins freeze. Did the professor catch her staring? Did she see her not taking notes?
She turns around and marches stiffly over, mind zooming to the worst possibilities. And she can't tell from her professor's face what this could be about.
"Miss Swan," she starts only for Emma to blurt out, "just Emma. Emma's fine."
Regina smoothly attunes, or not. "Miss Swan," she says with emphasis. "There are some things I would like to discuss with you. Do you have a moment of time?"
Emma's hands begin to sweat again.
Ah shit, what could she want. This had to be about the staring.
"Sure, I suppose," Emma stammers out. "But not a lot," she hastily adds so that if anything bad comes up, she can pretend to rush off to another class when she is really only rushing off to cry.
"I hope you have enough time for a coffee," she said, getting up. "I know a quaint spot on campus that is affordable for students."
"That's fine with me," Emma said, ducking her head as she followed her professor out. Coffee. With her professor? She could hardly believe it, but she clamped her lips shut, feeling a mixture of nervous and excited.
The walk over is short but filled with silence and tension on Emma's part. She desperately wants to think of something cool or engaging to say to her professor but her tongue won't work and she can feel her cheeks going red at this. She cannot be happier when they arrive because it gives them both a distraction from the lacking walk over.
"Let me pay," Professor Mills offered when they got there, taking Emma's order and cashing it before Emma could even wave the offer off. Coffees in hand, they sat down by a small window table. Emma fiddled with her drink, unsure as to what to do. Or why they were even having this coffee. She wracked her brain for anything cool to say but was coming up short again, unsurprisingly.
Professor Mills was coolly observing Emma and Emma tried to not fidget under her intense gaze, though she herself was unable to look away. This close up, Professor Mills looked even more stunning with the way the afternoon sunset made the light catch strands of gold in her hair, and made the flecks in her eyes shine. The professor spoke eventually, wrapping her hands around her steaming cup.
"I wanted to apologize if I put you on the spot in class. I did not intend to and I know I can come off as callous to many people. But my intention was not to embarrass you."
Well, Emma had not been expecting this. It was a bit of a relief really that it wasn't about something else. "Uh, no, that's fine-"
"I could feel you angrily glaring at me all class long," Professor Mills chuckled.
"I wasn't glaring! I was staring!" Emma blurts out in clarification and nearly bites her tongue off from how quickly she clamps her mouth shut because she has just revealed herself. "Not in a creepy way, just, you know, in a lesson way," she finishes lamely but Regina doesn't seem to care much about this.
"I'm just glad you're okay. I wouldn't want to make my student uncomfortable," she said, voice low as she looked on at Emma with those intense eyes. Emma felt her professor's foot bump her leg and stay there, almost like it had been purposefully placed. Her heart rate sky rocketed. She tightened her hold on her coffee as if it would ground her.
She had to be imagining things. Her professor's foot just happened to be there. It was a small table, not allowing a lot of leg room.
"Of course," Emma could only think to nod her head and swallow dryly.
"I'm glad we understand each other," Regina smiled and stood up. "I'll see you in class on Friday."
She left without looking back, though Emma couldn't help but follow her direction with her eyes. Then she turned back to her coffee and gulped heavily, looking forward to Friday's class already.