Student/Teacher Au for SwanQueenWeek

Regina carefully pushed open the door to the small lecture hall where she had found her calling in life. And it was all thanks to the woman down the front who gestured emphatically as she spoke of the written word that she viewed as a salvation for the soul – a viewpoint Regina now shared whole heartedly.

She leant against the doorframe and listen to the teachings feeling like the student she used to be.

"-they under estimate the importance of language. Come in, take a seat." Regina bowed her head in apology as she quickly shuffled along to her seat - third row from the front and two left of center, a calculated choice.

"Now as I was saying, people view the written word as a simple sans to an end. They don't dig deep enough to figure out why it's so important to their lives and our civilization. For example: why do we read?" Silence greeted the professors as she looked around the small lecture hall filled with students.

"I know it's early, guys, but it wasn't rhetorical. Why do you read the books you do?"

"Because they're in the syllabus!" Someone called out from the back as a few people chuckled. Regina was preparing to turn and glare the student into submission before the laughter from the front of the room focused her attention on the young, blonde haired professor pushing black frame glasses back up her nose.

"That's true for some of them. Good answer. But what I'm looking for is about the books you choose to read. Take your time to think about this. What draws you to those books? What do you look for in the book? What makes you turn the page?"

Regina was still getting used to the way Professor Swan - recent graduate turned lecturer - spoke about writing with such passion. All her life she'd been surrounded by people, who masked their true feelings, only daring to show the barest hint of compassion when situations required. But now here she was, almost on the edge of her seat, listening to someone speak of a topic with reverence and awe that her own feelings soon began to match.

"Come on! Someone must know. Just say anything. Why do we read recreationally?"

"To escape."

"Who was that?" Emma asked, and as the people around her turned to look at Regina she blushed realizing she'd spoken aloud. "Say it again."

Regina swallowed heavily under the professors gaze, "We read to escape." Mentally applauding her steady voice she almost missed what her professor said to her next.

"And why do we want to escape?"

"Uh... Because we crave..." Regina trailed off nervously. She honestly had no idea where the sentence was headed. The genuine smile and nod continue she received from Emma bolstered her courage just enough to finis speaking. "We crave distance from reality and our responsibilities, which probably explains why fantasy is the one of the most popular genres."

"That's... Well perfect!" Emma exclaimed as she shot Regina an impressed smile before writing what had been spoken on the board. "Escape. It seems like an easy concept to understand while you sit and think of all the fictional places you've escaped to in the past. The hard part is what we do. Breaking down those stories that you love and feel immersed in and reusing those techniques."

Regina smiled at the memories as her eyes followed Professor Swan pacing the floor in front of the class. She was struck by a small tinge of jealousy at how the woman still looked as young as she had five years ago.

Regina, along with most people who had decided to take Literature, had been disgruntled when they'd found out they would be getting a new Professor who was young – and in Regina's mind, inexperienced. Their doubts, however, were quickly cast aside as they became immersed in the world Emma painted with her words, spoken or written, and encouraged them to do the same.

"Everyone close your eyes. I only want you to listen to my voice. Whenever you read a book what do you see? Do you see the ink not the page forming letters and words or the worlds those words create? I'm guessing the latter for all of you. Writing is like painting a picture or composing a symphony." Regina's eyes were squeezed shut as she leant back in her seat listening to the soft timber of Emma's voice pull her under her spell.

"It's not easy. Writing. It's an art. Just like music, or painting, or drama. It takes practice, dedication, failure, and passion to make someone feel through merely rearranging words on a page."

Regina was startle from her contemplations as the students began to pack up their belongings and leave the hall. She quietly made her way past the surging throng of students, nodding to a few who stared back with wide eyes and soon found herself in front of Emma Swan's desk.

"One sec." The blonde said holding up a hand as she searched through the mess of a desk for something. With a sigh the woman gave up and glanced up over the top of her glasses. Regina relished the way the greens eyes widened, as did the smile.

"Regina Mills. What brings you to my domain?" Emma asked with a grin as she leant against the side of her desk.

"Thought I could get some inspiration from where it originally grew." Regina said.

"Well, it's nice to see you again. Feel free to look around and take your time. Don't rush anything." Emma said with a pointed look and nod, turning her back upon – probably her most prestigious student – and figuring out a way to conquer the various notes scattered over her desk.

"I was… I was hoping you could help me."

"Help you? You don't need my help anymore."

"I beg to differ."

"You want your old professor to help a well published author?" Emma asked with self-deprecating smirk.

"You're 28." Regina deadpanned.

"Nearly 30. That's old, young lady." Emma said with a chuckle as she wagged her finger around in mockery. Regina rolled her eyes with a smile firmly plastered to her face.

"Yes, well. I wouldn't be a published author at 25 without your teachings now, would I?"

"Guess I should be getting royalties or something from you then." Emma said pulling her glasses off and rubbing her eyes, tossing them carelessly on her desk. "But something's got you stuck, huh? Got the old fashioned block?"

Regina sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Yes. I'm trying something new."

"Like…?"

"A new genre."

"The fairytale well running dry?"

"Hardly." Regina scoffed. "The ideas won't stop but I want to… branch out."

"So what did you have in mind?" Emma asked intrigued. Regina had made her name known with her version of classic fairytales with surprising plot twists – Emma's favourite was still Red Riding Hood being the Wolf.

"I was hoping to delve into… Well, I was thinking… I don't know." Regina sighed giving up her train of thought and moving to sit in one of the seats in the front row. She heard Emma pull up her own chair in front of hers and wait.

"Hey, no idea's a bad one. Remember?" Regina kept her eyes on ground, feeling like she had when faced with criticism over her first manuscript. "Talk to me, Regina."

"I wanted to try romance." She whispered unable to look up and see whatever judgment Emma's eyes held.

"Hey, romance is good. Just pull from a few personal experiences, maybe mix in a bit of the fantasy if you want, but it's all up to you really." Emma said her hand settling on Regina's shoulders and squeezing gently. "Are you okay?"

Regina glanced up at the concerned gaze and felt the heat rise further in her cheeks. "I… um… can't."

"Can't what?"

"Pull from the experience I want to write about."

"Oh… Oh! Oh. Okay. Um. Well. Shit, really? I thought… I mean you're gorgeous but-"

"Oh god no! Not like that!" Regina blurted out suddenly realizing what Emma was rambling on about. "I'm not a virgin." Regina hissed as her blush grew further while Emma let out a relieved sigh – that insulted Regina more than it should have.

"Well, that's good. Wait, I don't mean-"

"Let's just forget that part of the conversation ever happened." Regina said, eyes looking anywhere but the woman sitting before her.

"Yeah, that's good. But what… um… experience do you want to write about?"

"Like… I can't get the concept of a forbidden romance from my head."

"That's a good one." Emma said nodding along with her words. "I'd say you wanna do something other than the norm, spice it up a little but I don't think you need any help with writing that."

"Well, I've written something but it's small and I don't know how to expand on it."

"Can I read it?" Regina nodded and quickly pulled the sheets of paper from her purse and handed them over. She watched Emma's face closely as her eyes roved over the pages, she looked for any sort of emotion to betray Emma's thoughts but none were revealed.

She looked away nervously as Emma began to read the final page. "Regina…" She didn't turn back until she felt a hand on her chin forced her to.

"This is… It's about…"

"You."

"Me."

"Yes."

"Oh…" Emma cleared her throat as her brow furrowed. "You liked me?"

"A lot of people did." Regina whispered.

"But… you... Ah, fuck it." Emma whispered lunging forward and kissing Regina. Regina was too shocked to respond until Emma cupped her cheeks and began to pull back. And hand around her neck, and one in her hair pulled Emma firmly to Regina's lips once more.

"Woah." Emma mumbled against Regina's lips as she pulled back as far as Regina's hands would allow.

"My thought's exactly." Regina whispered unable to hold back the smile.

"You need more inspiration?" Emma asked with a smirk that had Regina's almost melting in her embrace.

"Inspire me."

And Emma did. Repeatedly.

AN: I actually go this idea at 1am last night and wrote most of it then. So I hope it actually makes sense :) All thoughts and ideas about writing are basically exhausted babble courtesy of a long day and sleepless night.

Anyway, I like having Emma as the teacher but I wanna know what you guys think! So tell me!

Review, tell me what you think!