Regina's walk to the range was uneventful. She noticed the berth she was being given was...wider than usual. People would stick to the edges of the hallways away from her, giving her as much space as they possibly could. Undoubtedly they believed there was no way the Terminator could possibly have missed the news reports, the public announcements, that the woman who nearly stole her record had very outwardly expressed her interests in her. Though she had all the space and more to walk, she also felt far more eyes on her than usual. Searching the emotionless soldier for the thing she'd lacked for years, trying to find what Anke apparently had in just a week's worth of time. Regina doubted they'd find much. Just Regina in her usual clothes, wearing her hair in its usual ponytail, carrying a very familiar sniper rifle case on her back. But internally, Regina felt difference. She was striding with purpose...and not her usual purpose. She wanted to see someone. Work with someone. It occurred to her just how...odd that was. She never wanted to go somewhere for someone else. Yet here she was, more interested in the range for Anke and what she could do than practicing her own skillset.
She arrived at the range to find the sun hovering high overhead; she supposed she hadn't quite been asleep as long as she'd thought. Probably for the best; she didn't want to destroy her sleep schedule. Anke had beaten her there, given she did not need to change and her barracks were closer than Regina's private quarters. She watched Anke put together her rifle for a moment, then nodded, opening her own case and putting her rifle together just as quickly. Her Barrett M82 was factory-built and particularly nothing special, perhaps a surprise to many who assumed the world's greatest sniper would have a rifle custom-made to her. No, to Regina, any rifle ought to be equally as functional in her hands. She did not particularly see modifications as taboo, but merely shunned them for herself, focusing more on her individual skill than the ability of her weapon. Regina inspected her rifle once, nodding to herself at the visual once-over and affirming that everything seemed to be in working order.
With that in mind, she turned back to Anke. "Shoot with me." That was her only request as she headed to the range itself, situating herself at a spot in the corner and waiting for Anke to join her. Regina wasn't often one for words, especially when she was focused on her targets. Yet for all their competition, it had occurred to Regina that she'd never actually seen Anke shoot. All she had to go by were the numbers. Regina took her position, aiming carefully at the target far down the range, and began her session, shooting carefully and precisely with the ability of a maestro. This was her piano; Regina operated a rifle like it were an extension of her hand, guiding bullet to bullseye with absolutely no degrees of uncertainty. She was confident, not a hint of hesitation in her shots nor even a degree of inconsistency. After every clip, she'd turn and watch Anke, seemingly studying every tiny thing she possibly could about the blonde, from her stance, grip, down to the very angle of her posture. Regina mused for a moment after the third such set, leaving her rifle at her stand to walk to Anke.
She stood behind her a moment, folding her arms. "You're too tense." Regina moved behind Anke without apprehension, her chest pressing up against her back a moment. Her right hand slid past Anke's arm, coming to a rest on her own hand. "There's too much motion here. Just a bit too much...." Regina fought for a word, then decided on one. "Oomph. Rather than focus entirely on aiming, once you have your shot lined up, focus on your own body. Sync your movements. Line up with your breath...with your heartbeat." Regina took slow, deep breaths with Anke to emphasize her point, closing her eyes as she held the close-quarters position for a few moments. Yikes, I am...too close. This has to be strange, right? Is it? Regina fought off the intrusive thoughts, a blush on her cheeks as she righted her mind, focused on the gentle rise and fall of hers and Anke's chests, the tiniest pulse of their heartbeats. When she felt every tiny thing align, she twitched her index finger atop Anke's, firing the rifle together. She then took a step back, only making a cursory glance upfield to see the results of their work. "Better. Focus on that for your next set."