"You didn't tell me you had a lady friend back home." August held his hand over his heart feigning a wound. "I thought we were closer than that."

"I don't know her," the blonde argued, never taking her eyes off the letter. A part of her thought that this was some trick, that she'd be called back to Boston and forced to complete her sentence for her juvie record.

August moving in closer so that he was nearly nose to nose with Emma prompted her to look up from the envelope. "You're supposed to open it," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Yes, sir," Emma mocked before raising an eyebrow and indicating her need for privacy. With hands rising in defeat, August left Emma to go inspect the rest of his squad, giving the blonde the space to open the mysterious letter in peace.

Deft fingers sneaked a nail under the flap and pulled out its contents, curious, eager, and slightly hesitant to read the letter penned in the elegant scrawl.

October 14 2001

Dear Private Swan,

First and foremost, I'd like to take this moment to thank you and fellow soldiers like you for defending our country. I can only imagine the type of rigorous training you must go through and all the sacrifices you must make, and I appreciate it.

I understand this may seem unorthodox, but I've recently learned that writing to the troops can prove helpful. The program in place that allows civilians to send their thanks to soldiers seems to be quite successful, and from the testimonies I've read online, both parties are encouraged by it. I'm sure you're in constant correspondence with your family, and I hope you don't mind another - letter that is.

My name is Regina Mills. This letter is penned to you from the small town of Storybrooke, Maine of which I am the Mayor. It's quite the peaceful town, and I make sure of that, otherwise who knows what mischief my son will be able to get into.

Do you have any children yourself? Your family back home must be immensely proud of you. I hope you get to see them soon upon your circulation back home.

Thank you again for all that you do.

Sincerely,

Regina Mills

There was a sad pang in Emma's stomach as the woman whom she pictured in her mind to be some kindly middle-aged woman seeking to do a good deed kept bringing up a family Emma didn't have. It was an honest mistake and a kind gesture to ask, but not for the first time did Emma wish she had some sort of contact with the real world. Even though her squad hadn't been on tour yet, the months of monotonous routine had Emma wishing for some companionship that wasn't someone in her troop.

"Serge!" Emma called out, scrambling to her feet when August had walked by. He backtracked and leaned against the wall giving her his attention. "I wasn't aware I was signed up to be a pen pal."

Understanding flooded the Sergeant's face as he grinned. "You haven't ever had a letter come in, Swan. You want to know a good trick to stay alive when you're out in the field? You keep sane when you can."

"You write home?" Emma questioned disbelieving. She knew August had just as hard of a time at their foster home as Emma did.

He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll have you know that my writing career is going to take off as soon as I'm home permanently."

Emma shook her head with smirk, realizing that even here August would wind up by himself in a corner, scribbling into a notepad.

"Write back to her." He squeezed her arm in earnest before pushing off the wall and continuing his inspections leaving Emma to reread Regina's letter.

Maybe August was right. At least now with this Regina lady, she could maybe expect a letter every now and again. It was more than what Emma could ask for, and who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth?

She shrugged and replaced the letter back in its envelope and placed the envelope under her pillow. This pen pal thing might not be such a bad idea after all.


Regina balanced a sleeping Henry in her arms along with a mound of paperwork that had piled up at the office. With some clever shifting, she was able to pluck the mail from the mailbox and let herself into the mansion. The many items she attempted to carry began to give way as soon as she stepped over the threshold, and with her only concern on keeping Henry safe, and hopefully asleep, she let the mail and the paperwork fall haphazardly onto the side table, a few wayward files and envelopes floating to the ground as the sleeping boy whined in his sleep.

"Shhh," Regina soothed, patting his head and kissing his temple. Her smooth humming lulled the boy back to sleep as he nuzzled more comfortably against the crook of her neck. She made her way into the dining room where a small bassinet was placed and gently eased Henry into the cot. He clutched at her finger in his sleep, and Regina took the moment to sit and stroke his tiny palm, grinning down at her sleeping son.

Her decision to adopt had been an easy, if not nerve wracking one. She had waited so long at the chance to have a family, and now that she did, she loved every moment of it. Henry was a crier, yes. His first few weeks with Regina had the usually put-together Mayor clawing at her hair when she realized the boy was colicky. He also had the tendency to keep her awake at night and believe everything in his reach was meant to be eaten, but he was worth it. She could watch him sleeping all day, but the call of littered paperwork had her kissing her son's forehead and retreating back to the foyer to clean up the mess of papers and envelopes she had made.

She didn't notice the one envelope caught behind the side table leg hailing all the way from Georgia as she stood and examined the contracts in her folders.


"So?" August asked as he and the rest of his troop were outside in the unusually blazing sun doing push ups.

"So what?" Emma pushed up, her eyes forward before lowering down until her chest nearly touched the dry ground.

"Why haven't you written back to that lady?" He grunted, hovering on his arms for a second too long as the pain in his leg from a wound received in Korea acted up.

"What makes you think I haven't?"

"Because I haven't seen your name in the mail for two weeks."

"You know how long it takes to sort," Emma pointed out factually as if she had mulled over the same reason in her mind not for the first time. A whistle blew and as one, the troops stood and jogged their way over to the obstacle field course. "Plus, she's a Mayor," Emma reasoned as she lined up beside her sergeant, keeping up with his pace.

"Of some back-country town. How much can really go on there?"

The blonde mumbled a shrug and dove alongside with August to crawl under the barbed wire. She kept her head low and her body flat. Getting snagged while stuck in the mud ruined her momentum. Along with the sporadic very real gun shots sounding over her head, Emma refused to dawdle under the wire.

"Write her back again," August hissed beside her.

"No." Her cheeks tinted pink, but thankfully the mud caking her face hid the fact that she was mortified by the idea. Emma Swan did not beg for friendship. Sure, her parole officers may have said she caused trouble as a cry for attention, but she never went out of her way to make friends, and if this Regina Mills had felt she had done her duty, then so be it.

They emerged from the dirt and sprinted to the wall where they clung to a rope and began climbing their way up.

"Emma," August pressed. "You're going to go stir crazy."

"Bet you I won't." Emma grunted her teeth as the rope burned in her already calloused hands. Her foot slipped, but with a tightened gripped she managed to make her way to the top of the wall.

"I'm not taking that bet." August joined her at the top and the two made their way down.

"Thought you had your vices," Emma teased.

"I like to think I'm a smart guy." August released the rope halfway down the wall and tumbled on the ground before jogging to the next obstacle. Emma rolled her eyes at his extravagant behaviour, but that didn't stop her from releasing her own rope and land on her feet, her knees bending to absorb the shock.

"I know you keep reading it," August said once Emma caught up with him.

Her silence didn't deny the fact that for the last two weeks, Emma had been pulling the letter out from under her pillow and poured over Regina's words. She realized what was so addictive about it; a sense of being remembered and being wanted lingered deep within her and grew stronger with each read of the letter.

The blonde shrugged in reply as a whistle sounded, and without prompting, she and the rest of her squad fell to the ground where they stood for another round of push ups. "I got something," Emma pointed out before dropping the subject, intent on simply doing her training without a nosy sergeant barking in her ear.

She didn't know who Regina Mills was. She could be some old granny person or had a family of her own. She had a son, right? Maybe he wanted to enlist and she sought questions. Whoever she was, Emma had received her first letter from her, and that was more than what she could ask for.


Regina pinched the bridge of her nose, the editor of The Mirror talked incessantly into her ear as she cradled her phone between her ear and shoulder. She appreciated his enthusiasm when it came to investigating the ins and outs of her town, but when he insisted on calling during Henry's feeding time to drabble on about the type of pesticide Mr. French was using for his roses, her patience was wearing thin.