XI.

"Regina?" a voice calls to her the morning after Christmas. She thinks she may be hearing things, as she's admittedly still hungover from the wine she had the night before. Emma had insisted they make a traditional Christmas dinner, minus the ham since Regina's a vegetarian and Emma still doesn't eat swine, thanks to one of the foster families she had lived with for six months in her late teens who had kept Kosher. She never regained the taste for pork after living with the rabbi's family. That left a sorry excuse of a green bean and fried onion casserole, some cranberry sauce from a can, and roasted sweet potatoes to make up most of the meal — it was surprisingly okay, probably because of the copious amounts of Riesling they guzzled down that night. They had finally managed to watch an actual Christmas movie instead of something more suited for Halloween earlier in the afternoon, and in lieu of opening gifts, since neither had any, they had gone for an at-home spa experience, complete with face masks, massages, and giving each other manicures.

"Ugh," she hears the voice next to her mumble and feels someone kick her, and that's when she realizes she's not alone. She doesn't remember much of the night after the apple pie she had made for dessert, but it's starting to come together in her mind as she turns over and sees the blonde mane sharing the lone pillow on her single bed.

"Emma?" she whispers to herself, as if there's a question as to the identity of her bedmate. She moves her hand under the blanket to check her own state of dress, or undress, as it were.

"Ow, that's my boob," Emma mumbles into the pillow when Regina accidentally elbows her as she attempts to adjust herself. She realizes at that moment that Emma is not wearing any clothing, and a second later she confirms that the same can be said for herself when she runs a hand across her body to check, and all she feels is bare skin.

Shit.

"Regina? Are you up there?" she hears the voice again and that's when she remembers why she woke up in the first place. The unmistakable timbre of Cora Blanchard calling her name.

"Fuck, Emma!" she whispers harshly.

"Give me a minute to wake up, and then sure," comes the sleepy reply. "Or get started without me."

"What? No, Emma, get up," she reiterates, pushing the blonde away from her. "My parents are home."

That wakes up the blonde, who sits up suddenly, the sheets pooling at her waist. It's then that Regina starts to recall exactly what happened the night before as the memories rush back to her: memories of them taking turns setting up camp between the other's thighs and the amount of time she spent worshipping the blonde's breasts. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of the fuchsia bullet next to Emma's hip. She remembers the blonde using it on her, teasing her until the battery ran out at an inopportune time and Emma mercifully taking pity on her and finishing her of herself. She can't help but blush, but Emma's words pull her out of her memory. "What? God damn it. This is like high school all over again. Why are your parents back?"

"I have no idea. They said they wouldn't be back until tomorrow…wait, today is the 26th, right? We didn't get so drunk that we slept through an entire day, did we?"

Emma rolls her eyes as she reaches around the other side of the bed, finding her discarded underwear on the floor and picking them up. "No, it's…" she checks her watch, "11am on the 26th," Emma confirms as she slips her panties on under the covers. As she reaches to pick up her bra from where it's hanging from the post of the footboard, the door opens without further warning.

"Regina, why didn't you— oh my God! Miss Swan?" Cora shouts in alarm as she stands in the doorway. She quickly turns her head to shield her eyes. "Regina!"

"Good morning, Mother. You're back early."

XII.

"Oh God, I'm so going to be fired and kicked out of grad school," Emma says as she paces around Regina's room while the brunette gets dressed. Cora had promptly told them they had five minutes to make themselves presentable and to be at the dining room table to 'discuss this indiscretion.'

"No you won't," Regina reassures as she pulls on a pair of leggings and starts to dig around her dresser for a tank top.

"I can't believe I fucked my boss' daughter, and in her own house."

"My mother isn't your boss."

"No, you're right. She's my boss' boss. That's so much worse."

Regina doesn't bother responding to that. "Look, I'll take the blame for it. You won't be fired or expelled or whatever. I won't let that happen."

"I appreciate the gesture, but it's against the college's rules. You aren't going to have a say in this. I'm so done."

"You're not my professor anymore, Emma," Regina says, "so it's not a blatant violation of any of the policies. I'm well over the age of consent. We'll just explain the situation, blame it on too much wine, and I'll make it very clear that I pursued you and that you didn't take advantage of me."

"Shit," Emma sighs again.

The brunette finishes pulling on her tank top and walks over to other woman, who has finally stopped pacing, but only so she can lean back against the wall in resignation. Her eyes are closed, but Regina knows that she's probably fighting back tears, knowing that her career might be over before it really even had the chance to begin. Regina knows that feeling all too well.

"Emma," she says, taking a chance as she brings her hand to cup the woman's cheek, her other seeking out the blonde's hand by her side. When the green eyes don't open, Regina leans in and softly kisses her. It feels much different than their previous kisses, which were the result of built up tension coming to a boiling point in the moment, or liquor-fueled passionate exchanges to scratch an itch. This one is tender and heavy with meaning: support, encouragement, and maybe something else that Regina tries not to think about. The blonde's eyes flutter open as Regina pulls back, and Regina squeezes the hand she's still holding gently as she says, "Let's go face the firing squad," hoping that her attempt at humor doesn't reveal the panic she's also feeling internally.

Emma pushes herself off the wall, letting Regina guide her out of the bedroom by their still-connected hands. She hopes Regina can't feel how clammy her hand is, as her anxiety continues to build with each step she takes.

Regina may look collected and calm on the outside, but her heart is pounding in her chest as she lets go of Emma's hand as they start to walk down the stairs. "Let me do the talking," she says quietly to the blonde behind her as they finish their descent.

"Gladly," Emma mumbles in response, letting herself fall a few paces behind the dean's daughter, hoping the physical space between them now might help erase what Cora Blanchard witnessed earlier in the morning.

As they turn the corner into the dining room, they find both college administrators sitting at the far end of the large mahogany table, each with a steaming cup of untouched coffee in front of them and a large tray of croissants sitting in the center of the table. Two empty mugs and a carafe sit at the opposite end of the table, and the two women wordlessly take their seats. Regina quickly pours the coffee, emptying a packet of sugar into Emma's without being asked, as she had learned a few things from the previous two mornings they spent together, before handing it to the blonde. This earns an eyebrow raise from Leopold at the other end of the table, but neither of the two young women notice, as they're too focused on their own nerves.

"Thanks," Emma says quietly as she takes a sip, refusing to look over at Regina's parents.

"Ahem," Cora clears her throat, causing both women to finally face the moment they've been dreading.

"I'm sorry," Emma blurts out, earning a kick under the table and a glare from Regina.

"Emma," she hisses quietly. "Let me handle this."

"Sorry," she says again. "It's a reflex from my time in the system. I don't like confrontation with authority."

Regina's expression softens at that. "Mother, I can explain…" she starts, turning toward her parents, but Cora doesn't let Regina say anything else.

"I don't want to hear your explanation, Regina," Cora states. "History seems to be repeating itself, does it not?"

Regina looks down at her coffee cup, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic and trying to draw comfort from it. She catches Emma's eye, who is looking at her curiously.

"What…" Emma starts, but stops herself when she sees Regina visibly deflate. Only a few words from Cora has the usually confident woman cowering in her seat.

"Must you always cause trouble wherever you go, Regina?" Cora continues. "You think of no one but yourself. Your actions have consequences. We thought you would have learned your lesson after what happened at Harvard."

"Harvard?" Emma asks no one in particular, and her question is ignored as Cora continues her rant.

"But clearly you manage to do even more damage here. And that's not even addressing the poor judgment of Miss Swan here and what she's done."

"It's not her fault," Regina interjects. "She didn't do anything."

"That's not what it looked like to me. And, well, it certainly takes two," Cora says. "I doubt she's innocent in this entire situation."

Regina can't help but roll her eyes. "I just meant she didn't do anything wrong, Mother. And we're both adults. I'm not in her class anymore."

"You expect me to believe that this was the first time this has happened?"

"Yes," Regina and Emma both answer quickly.

Regina fidgets uncomfortably under the gaze of her mother, who is silently demanding answers. "Last night was the only time. Emma and I ran into each other the other day at the market and she came over for dinner and a movie when we realized that we were both spending break by ourselves. We hung out a few more times, and she stayed on the couch the last few nights because of the blizzard. Then last night we had a lot of wine and one thing led to another, I guess."

"You guess?" Cora deadpans, and Regina just shrugs. "I'm supposed to feel better about my concerns regarding both of your abilities to exercise good judgement because you got drunk and decided that this was okay?"

"I promise you, Dean Blanchard, President Blanchard," Emma says, addressing Leopold who has yet to speak, "nothing ever happened while Regina was in my class. I would never cross that line."

"But two weeks later, it's suddenly okay?" Cora asks.

"No, not really, but like Regina said, we're both adults and she's no longer in any of my classes. We're only a few years apart in age and this town is small. It's not like we wouldn't have eventually crossed paths at a bar or something."

"And tell me, Miss Swan, are you in the habit of bringing home random college girls you meet down at The Rabbit Hole?" Cora asks.

"I don't think you're legally allowed to ask her about her sex life, Mother," Regina points out.

"I can if she's sleeping her way through the student body."

"I'm not!" Emma is quick to defend herself. "I haven't. And I wouldn't. I just meant that even if she hadn't been in my class, we easily could have still met each other. This doesn't need to be that big of deal. That's all."

Cora scoffs. "That's the argument you're going to make, Miss Swan? Couldn't you also meet any number of your students down at the bar, by your logic? Is that going to be your defense every time this happens in the future?"

Emma feels her pulse quicken under the scrutiny of Cora's interrogation. "No, that's not…most of my students are freshmen, so they wouldn't even be in the bar. They're too young."

"Not helping," Regina coughs under her breath.

Emma shakes her head as she tries to refocus her defense. "This isn't a habit I'm planning on repeating. It was a one-time thing."

"So my daughter was just a one-night stand and a warm bed to protect you against the blizzard? Is that it?"

If Emma didn't know better, she would think Cora is enjoying this. The woman has a malevolent glint in her eye that she finds very unsettling. "I…no. I mean, yes… I…"

"Please, Mother," Regina interjects, trying to save the woman across from her from doing any more damage. She recognizes her mother's go-to tactic to make the blonde as uncomfortable as humanly possible in order to come out on top. "You've been working at the college for decades. Don't be such a prude. You know perfectly well that young people often have sex outside the confines of a relationship. Emma and I both knew what it was before it happened," she says, fidgeting slightly in her chair.

"Right," Emma confirms.

"And yet you still thought it was a good idea to sleep with your student, Miss Swan?"

"Former student," Regina and Emma say simultaneously, sharing a smirk when their voices overlap.

Cora ignores it. "And you, Regina, you thought it was okay to bring your former professor into our home, while we were out of town, to play house for a few days and have sex with her in your childhood bedroom?"

Both Emma and Regina shift uncomfortably at that. "It wouldn't have been my first choice of location, but there weren't a lot of options since you mandated that I live here this year."

"Yes, well, clearly that was the right call, given your poor decision-making skills. God only knows who you would have been bringing home all semester if you had some privacy," Cora wrinkles her nose in distaste.

"I feel like I should be offended by that," Emma mumbles under her breath. Regina barely hears her and snickers.

"Look, Mother, this has been a delightful conversation, but can we get to the conclusion a bit faster here? I'm rapidly losing interest in your thesis."

Emma has to bite back a smirk at Regina's ability to so casually use academic metaphors to sass her mother. Cora, on the other hand, does not look amused by Regina's wordplay.

"Well, officially, you are correct in that you have not broken any written rules of the university, as Miss Swan here is no longer in a position of academic authority over you."

They both release a collective sigh of relief, which is quickly cut off when Cora continues to speak.

"However, that doesn't mean there won't be consequences for your reckless behavior in my house."

XIII.

"Well, that could have been worse, I guess," Emma says. She's not fired or expelled, but she's been assigned to serve as Cora's personal gopher for the next semester as an unpaid TA. She knows the older woman is going to make her life a living hell. And Regina isn't getting of scot free, either. Cora has assigned her to do grunt work in Leopold's office for the duration of her time at Storybrooke College.

"I'm sorry, Emma," Regina replies as they are left to clean up after the uncomfortable lecture they both received.

"It's not your fault. As your mother said, 'it takes two.' It's not like I was an unwilling participant," Emma replies as she rinses out the last coffee mug and gets started on disassembling the French press.

"I know. I'm not sorry for that, if I'm being honest…from what I remember, it was totally worth it," a light blush tints her cheeks with her words. "I meant I'm sorry about my mother. And Leo, by proxy."

"Is it weird he didn't say anything?" Emma asks, her voice lowered so they aren't overheard, even though Regina's parents retired to their bedroom to unpack from their ski trip. "I mean, he's the president of the college, I would have thought he would have something to say about it."

Regina shakes her head. "He was probably uncomfortable, truthfully."

"Did he already know that you're…a lesbian?" Emma asks, somewhat uncertain. She realizes that although they slept together, she doesn't know how Regina identifies, and they were both intoxicated. For all she knows, Regina hadn't been with a woman before. Although, Emma's memory is a bit more clear than Regina's, and she certainly assumes the other woman has at least some experience, based on her performance last night.

"Oh, yeah. They've both known since I was in high school and came out to them my junior year. They're cool with it."

"Oh…good."

"He's probably just weirded out because you're a grad student and teaching classes, so that makes him your boss in a way, and generally a male boss talking to an employee about her sex life, even when said employee is caught in bed with his stepdaughter…"

"Yeah, got it. Makes sense," Emma cringes.

"But, regardless, I'm not surprised he didn't say anything. He's very assertive when he needs to be for his job, but here he's like a puppy. My mother definitely runs things here. Plus, even though he raised me for most of my life, I think he is still cautious about overstepping, especially after I changed my name back to my father's."

"Oh, I was wondering about that. I thought maybe you just used it so no one would know you're a Blanchard."

"I'm not a Blanchard," Regina clarifies. "Leopold is fine and he's always been nice to me, but he's always favored Mary-Margaret. As he should…she's his biological daughter. His first wife died shortly after giving birth, so he raised her by himself until she was four and he married my mother. I was only three when my dad died and seven when my mother married Leo, but I was apparently very stubborn even as a kid and refused to let anyone else take that place. She didn't ask me before he legally adopted me a year later and changed my name. So, I changed it back as soon as I was old enough as an act of teen rebellion."

"Wow," Emma comments.

"Yeah. My mother was pissed. Leopold seemed to understand, at least on some level, and wasn't overly offended by it. We seem to have reached an unspoken agreement and mutual respect of leaving each other to live our lives. And as I'm sure you've guessed by now, he did pull rank and was able to make it so I could transfer in as a senior and still graduate on time. Anywhere else I would have lost at least a year's worth of credits during the transfer process, so I'm grateful to him for that."

"Yeah, about that," Emma says, setting the towel down and resting her back against the counter. She crosses her arms and tries to look demanding. "I think it's time you told me about what the hell happened at Harvard."

Regina raises an eyebrow as she smirks, resting one hand on her hip and the other on the island. "Oh you do, do you?"

"I pointblank asked you if you got kicked out for sleeping with a professor, and you said no. And yet your mother said that history is repeating itself…was I just another faculty conquest?"

"You did ask me, and I did say no, because I never slept with a professor. Or a TA. Or anyone who could possibly be considered faculty. That title goes only to you, Emma. Last night wasn't about some academia fetish."

"Oh…then what was she insinuating?"

Regina sighs. "I…"

"Look, Regina, if you really don't want to tell me, you don't have to. It's not like we're in a relationship. I was just pissed when I thought you lied to me about it, or that me being your former professor was the only reason…"

"Wow. You really think highly of me, don't you?" Regina says with a despondent chuckle, the hurt evident on her features.

"Regina, no, that's not what I meant," she apologizes. "I never thought that until Cora said what she said. It gave me pause, yes. But you said it isn't true, and I believe you."

"I never meant for last night to happen. The past few days weren't some evil ploy to seduce you."

"I know."

"I enjoyed hanging out with you. I haven't really been able to have much of a social life since I moved back, obviously," she says, gesturing around her. "It's not like I can throw parties or even have friends over while living here. It's lonely. It was nice to have a bit of normalcy for a few days while they were off spending Christmas in Aspen."

"For what it's worth, I enjoyed it too," Emma smiles shyly, and for the first time since they left the safety of Regina's bedroom that morning, she walks over to the younger woman and pulls her into her. She only hugs her, not wanting to cross any lines, but she smiles when she feels Regina's arms wrap around her waist.

"If you really want to know about Harvard, I'll tell you," Regina tells her, but it's muffled, as she's buried her face into the blonde's neck.

"You really don't have to if you don't want to," Emma states. "I didn't mean to make it into a big deal."

"It's fine," Regina says, pulling back from the embrace and resting against the kitchen island once again. "It's just embarrassing."

"Okay…"

"I didn't sleep with a faculty member, but it does involve sex."

"Well you said you weren't making webcam videos, so…"

Regina chuckles a bit. "No, I definitely wasn't. I just slept with the wrong person."

"What?" Emma frowns. "What does that even mean? Who did you sleep with?"

Regina sighs. "It was the end of my junior year — last spring — and one of my really good friends had just turned 21, so we were celebrating at this wine bar in Boston. We were drunk and so we ended up going to another bar nearby. It's one of those where they don't really check IDs that closely, and as long as you're not drinking, they don't care if you're not 21. It's also a bit sketchy and a place I would never go if I was sober. Anyway, we were there for awhile and then a few of us stayed even after the birthday girl was too drunk to continue and a few friends took her home. We ended up meeting this group of girls who said they were freshmen from Emerson. We didn't think anything of it. I ended up hooking up with one of the girls. We messed around a bit in the bathroom of the bar, and then she invited me back to her hotel. I should have realized that it was weird that she was staying in a hotel, but she just said that her apartment was being fumigated, so she was crashing there for a few days. I bought it. Until the next morning, when her parents came in and found us."

"Her parents?" Emma asks.

"Yep. It was her hotel room, but her parents were staying two doors down, and apparently had a room key. Her whole story was a lie. She was a high school senior in town for Harvard's preview weekend so she could visit campus. She and a few other high school girls she met escaped their 'uppity and boring' student hosts by pretending to be sick and snuck out to the bar, pretending to be students from another college. She didn't expect her parents to come by her room, because she was supposed to be staying with her host student in the girl's dorm room for that night. But I guess the student she was assigned to called her parents to see if she was feeling better and would be coming back for the morning breakfast, and that's when they knew something was up and barged into her room, finding us in a very compromising position."

"Oh God. Wait, you said high school…how old was she?"

"Eighteen. Thankfully."

"Okay, but then why did that get you expelled?"

"Oh, well that's the kicker. Of all the girls in the group, I picked the granddaughter of a very powerful — and very religious and conservative, mind you — member of the university's Board of Trustees, who also happened to be staying on the same floor of the hotel to visit his daughter and granddaughter."

"Shit."

"Yep. He walked by the room on his way to a meeting he had early that morning, just in time to catch the tail end of our argument. Fortunately, I at least had the bedspread pulled over me by that point. Needless to say, once he realized what happened, he demanded that I be removed from the university immediately."

"He could do that?"

"Apparently. I mean, not officially, but he has a lot of power and a lot of money. The administration very strongly recommended that I transfer and go quietly, as they didn't want to cause a scandal. And I knew that they could make everything very difficult for me for my final year if I stayed. They also pointed out that it would disgrace Storybrooke College, because to have the president and dean's daughter gallivanting around with a high school senior…"

"Got it."

"Yeah. It turns out that as much clout as my parents have, they're just small fish in the large Harvard pond. I tried to fight it and didn't want to leave, especially because the bitch lied to me so I had no idea who she really was, but that didn't matter. So, she's living her best life as a carefree Harvard freshman right now, while I'm stuck back in my childhood bedroom."

"Wow. That sucks."

"Yeah…" Regina sighs. "So, that's how I ended up back here in this lame town and my parents' college, instead of graduating from Harvard and going straight into their MBA program."

Emma takes a step toward her at that point, closing the distance between them as she cups her hand around the back of Regina's neck, softly running her fingers up into the brunette's hairline and back down again as she searches her eyes. "Well, for what it's worth, I for one am glad you got yourself banished to this little lame town."

"Yeah?" Regina smirks, looking up at the other woman.

Emma tugs Regina forward until their torsos are flush against one another and there's just a breadth's distance between their lips. Emma leans in until she can graze the brunette's lips with her own, before pulling back. "Yeah, I really am."

FIN.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! This was the shortest complete SQ fic I've written/first one shot (even though it was broken into sections), and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Once I finish A New Exploration (which will be soon, I promise!) I'm planning on writing some more one shots, as well as a new multi-chapter fic. This was originally going to be part of an anthology of one shots, but for now I'm posting them individually as I write them. They'll all be titled with song titles/lyrics, so keep an eye out for more and subscribe if you'd like. :)