"Thank you, sir," she muttered.


Emma took a step back and clutched the letters to her chest when Cabrera nodded her dismissal. After one final glance behind her as Cabrera watched her walk off, she quickly headed in the direction of her tent and sat on her cot.

Her fingers trembled, both from overuse from her strenuous work outs and from excitement as Regina's handwriting smiled up at her, grounding her back down to earth. If there was any good in this world, it was all in these letters, reminding her that she was missed and loved and safe there. She ran a finger under the flap of the first letter and smiled softly as the first thing that dropped from it were two pictures: one of Henry, his hair neatly trimmed though still much too long by Regina's standards with his army backpack by his feet and a Rexy Jr. sticking adorably out from it. His Levi's and button up shirt made him look like such a little man as he grinned into the camera throwing a thumbs up in front of him; the second was of him and Regina, mother crouched down by her son as they posed in front of the large door of Storybrooke Elementary. Regina with her beaming smile matching Henry's in such an uncanny way that genetics be damned.

His first day of school.

A tear fell onto the outside of the envelope, and Emma finally realized that her watering eyes had spilled over. She missed so much, yet they never once excluded her.

She kept the pictures in her lap and pulled out the letter.

September 6, 2005

Hello my love,

I never realized how much of the voice of reason you are until today when I walked Henry into his kindergarten class and had to be kicked out when I tried to stay for the full day. I could hear you telling me it's okay, and that we'll pick him up later. Later is much too far away. I've taken more pictures than I can fit in this envelope, so you'll get to see every minute of his first day of school process when you come home.

But I'm completely beside myself. You're over there and Henry's at school, and apparently I missed a presentation on the zoning restrictions of the town, but I don't care. I miss both of you so embarrassingly much.

It's not even that much different than when he went to daycare. Not at all. Not really. But it's school. We can't just take him out of it for a day because I've convinced you to go riding even though you insist that kindergarten is optional. It has its benefits. You'll be glad he went.

I know you don't want to make a big deal about what happened, and I know you already know my stand on what we should do, but just don't forget that you're safe here, and you have a home here, and if you feel like it'll be easier to just let it go, then I'll support you.

We're waiting for you to come home.

I love you.

Regina

She smiled down at the letter despite the ache in her chest that had her so homesick she actually felt sick to her stomach. She knew she couldn't keep something like what Spencer did a secret, and even though the squad kept her busy enough to keep her away from a phone (because writing that down was just too much for Emma to bear and would all but immortalize the event on paper), when Emma called her that night, she had someone to cry with, to hold her up and tell her it wasn't her fault.

Regina made it very clear on their next phone call that she wanted her General in a prison cell in Guantanamo Bay, but Emma dismissed her, and again Regina was being patient. Regina was still sending her letters and pictures and drawings that didn't make her feel like the world was watching her, and she couldn't fucking wait to get home. A thought struck her suddenly.

She'd be home for Christmas.

If Regina could tried to maintain a sense or normalcy, then so could Emma, and already her spirits were up and a plan forming in her head. Taking a moment to stare down at the picture of her family, she pressed a kiss to their faces before putting the pictures and letter back in the envelope and hiding the letter in her rucksack. She retrieved a bit of stationary and a pen from her bag and grabbed a book, using it as a desk as she hovered over the paper.

October 12, 2005

How come you get to call me 'my love', but when I slip in a 'baby' it's like all hell has broken loose? A new nickname for you is in order, pumpkin. Sweet cheeks would be fitting too.

God, what's up with Henry and his incessant need to grow up? He promised me he wouldn't. He looks so big in those pictures. He's coming up to your waist now. And to be fair, kindergarten is optional. We'd all have more fun together anyway.

I know you would. I appreciate that, and I love that about you, but I just want to forget it. I've already been told it's not the healthiest options, but I'm looking to see if I can be stationed stateside for the duration of my duty, so it'll be okay.

Speaking of stateside though, I'll be coming home soon. Sometime in the New Year, but maybe mid-February. Keep your Valentine's Day free. And your night too.

Give Henry a big hug and kiss for me, and make sure he does all his homework and sticks up for the little kids. I've got a big hug and kiss for you too.

I love you.

Emma

She signed her name just as Neal entered the tent and nodded his presence. He sat on the cot next to hers and put cream on his burned hand. Months of daily medication had minimized the scars far better than what it was before. "Did you hear?"

"What?" She asked stuffing the letter into an envelope and licking it shut.

"There's talks of moving some high end prisoner across country and we're signed up for the job."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Babysitting again?"

"Through a land mine maze with bullets hailing over us as the other side wants to steal back their prisoner."

"You've been watching SWAT again?"

"Michelle Rodriguez is hot, okay?"

"And also gay."

"No way," he said disbelieving. "Is this some sort of gaydar thing?"

The blonde smirked and shook her head. "It'll take what? Two weeks the most to complete?"

Neal nodded. "We're set to move out at the top of November. They want to debrief us all we can and show us the layout of the route and prepare us for threats."

"You'd think this guy was Osama himself."

"Maybe his right hand man," he shrugged.

She nodded and got up from her cot. "That'll be my last one until I get to go home."

Neal grinned and capped the cream bottle. "We'll be back in time for that Christmas dinner."

For the first time in months, Emma smiled at something other than her letters. "Let's make it count."


December 28, 2005 — Storybrooke, Maine

There was something in the air this Christmas that Regina couldn't quite put her finger on. It may have been that, for the first time, the annual Christmas party went off without a hitch. Henry was able to sit in Santa's lap without crying, and for once they got a decent Santa picture. Or perhaps it was that snow was actually falling, coating the town in a thick layer that allowed Henry to convince Regina to go out and make snow angels, though she caught him quickly enough when he tried to eat it. It might have been the face Henry made when he received a gift from 'Emma' under the Christmas tree of a Fantastic Four trade (because Regina had done her homework and figured out who Sue Storm was). He searched all over the house for the blonde, and when Henry had asked where she was, Regina provided she was at work but had Santa special deliver the gift. It was the truth, in some sense after all, and the surprise he would get in two months' time of Emma returning home would be worth the wait.

That, most definitely, was the reason Regina was so excited about this Christmas. Emma would be home soon. In forty-eight more days to be exact. She had been counting down the days to the soldier's expected arrival, and already Regina had the perfect present to give to her. Be it for Christmas or Valentine's Day, Regina was sure Emma would love it.

A scrapbook filled with pictures and keepsakes of their time apart. Regina knew she couldn't fill Emma in on every little detail in her letters, but the scrapbook could act as a way to catch up. She planned to continue adding to it having already printed out Christmas Day pictures and had Henry's last summer concert at daycare and his first Christmas concert burned onto a DVD.

She couldn't wait.

"Mommy!" Henry called from the kitchen where he was on supposed to be putting on his apron. Regina left her study to find her son already kneeling on a stool and trying to open a new bag of flour. "It's not working."

"Let's see those muscles." He grinned and tried to flex like his Uncle August had showed him, and the little bump of a muscle sprouted. "Good," Regina praised. "You'll be stronger than August yet."

Together they opened the flour. Powder fell on the counter with every tug of the bag, and by the time it was opened, an oval shaped ring of the baking supply circled around the bag.

"Can we make lots of cookies?"

"Lots?" Regina exclaimed. "I don't think your tummy can handle it."

"Yeah!" He argued. "And Unca August is coming and Auntie Ruby and Auntie Kat and Mr. David."

Regina bit back the smirk that threatened to appear on her face at Henry's insistence that David was simply a Mister and not part of their makeshift family that somehow worked. She pecked the top of his head and couldn't fault him for his logic just then and found she didn't want to. She could hear Emma already: "He's only a kid once, Regina. Let him have some sugar cookies."