Regina took a relaxed breath as she read the final lines from Emma's letter. The blonde had made it safely overseas but was uncertain when she'd be able to call Regina again. Apparently they were keeping everyone busy in the Middle East, and after following every newspaper and media coverage, Regina was certain of it as well. Like nearly the entire country, Regina had been on board with sending their military to Iraq after the horrific events of 9/11 but as the years progressed and more and more soldiers were being shipped away and more privacy was being stripped in the name of homeland security, Regina's views shifted.

Especially since she got to know Emma.

Back then, the younger woman was a faceless friend whom she had grown to care about deeply. Every letter held a degree of anxiety while she was on tour since Regina was acutely aware that it could be her last. But the blonde had been nervous enough for the both of them and Regina had remained the one to keep her grounded. Now with Emma as more than a friend – they never did quite talk about what they were to each other – with Emma as someone who made Regina feel things she hadn't felt in years, the agitation built up inside her like a tidal wave constantly crashing over her.

But for now with Emma's letter in her hand claiming a safe trip and a safer arrival, Regina could keep her head above water before the next high tide hit. She smiled fondly at the letter before placing it on her foyer table on top of a care package that would be Emma's birthday gift already filled with another jar of cocoa, some toys and school supplies to give to the children there, and a book, along with a discman and a few CDs that August chipped in for Emma's coming of age. The fact that Regina had missed this year's birthday drove her anal retentive nature crazy, but neither women were a hundred percent sure which base camp the blonde would be stationed at, and Regina didn't want to send it as a shot in the dark.

"Pa-choo, pa-choo!" Henry's playing reminded Regina that she had promised her son to paint his face in preparation for Halloween. Though the holiday was five days away, Henry had the tendency to constantly wear his Halloween costume for a week straight. Last year Regina was faced with the predicament that Henry wouldn't even take off his costume for bath time. Batman Henry got sufficiently soaked that night as the boy saved Gotham, claiming the city was flooded. In all honesty, Regina was preparing herself for months in advance for this year's costume through online searches and visits to the lone thrift store in town while steadily avoiding the pawn shop for her disdain of the owner. With Henry's love for Treasure Planet and his recent obsession with growing a rat's tail, Regina had scouted out jackets, shirts, and even a fake clip on earring for what would have been his Halloween costume all ready to go hidden in the back of her closet. But to Regina's surprise, though it really shouldn't have been when she thought about it, Henry went an entirely different route.

Private Henry Mills was in his playroom, crouched on his belly and forearms as he hid under the child-sized picnic table with Rexy Junior and Sea Turtle. For two days after returning home from pre-school, Henry had run up to his room, clothes left discarded in his wake, to change into his army uniform. It was nowhere near professional as Emma's with the thick insulated materials and the desert camouflage, but to Henry it was perfect. Jungle-style dark green and brown camo was the print of his button up shirt with Private etched onto the breast, and his cargo pants with real thigh length pockets were just like Emma's (plus he could hide small toys or cookies in there). The outfit also came equipped with a utility belt holding a walkie-talkie. A tiny plastic machine gun had been included, but before Henry had even seen the costume Regina had tossed the weapon away. She was all for her son having the best costume, but she was still a mother, and the last thing she wanted was for her son to play with guns. Ironic still from her choice in lover. However, the helmet he was sporting was entirely a Regina-creation. She had taken his old Playhouse construction worker hat and after a quick paint job to match the jungle camo, it was ready for military use. She couldn't wait to send Emma pictures of him.

"Les go, boys," Henry said into his walkie-talkie before taking Rexy Jr. and Sea Turtle by the limbs and crawling out from under the table. Regina refrained from stopping him when Henry suddenly started rolling toward his tent then stood and attempted a somersault, though it was really him just placing his head on the ground and walking his body to the opposite way. He twitched dramatically before falling into the tent. "Ahh, they got me! They got me! Save me, Mommy!"

Regina shook her head affectionately, walking the distance from the entrance to his tent and pulling the Velcro away that attached the roof to pick Henry up into a tight snuggle.

"Phew," he said wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "Thassa close one."

"That was a close one," Regina said dutifully, giving his nose a gentle tap with her finger.

"We gonna paint my face now?" He asked excitedly.

Regina said nothing and simply placed him down onto his feet and walked the few steps to his art table where she left the face paint.

"And Rexy too?" Henry asked holding up Rexy Jr. in one hand and squinting one eye in hopeful persuasion. "He has to match his Daddy."

"I don't recall Rex being in uniform."

"He's with Emma," reasoned the boy as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

To Henry's credit, Regina could see his logic, but face paint on toy fabric was a recipe for disaster. Tucking a hand under her chin in thought, Regina bargained with her son. "We can't paint Rexy, but I think we can make him match Daddy."


October 28 2004

Emma,

I'm so glad to hear you've arrived safely. I admit, I was getting more than a little worried since I had gotten used to expecting your letter more frequently.

Regardless, first things first. Happy birthday, Emma. I feel terrible that this greeting is coming so late, but Henry and I were thinking of you. I've sent pictures that I'm sure you've already looked through. Henry insisted on making you a cake, but I managed to talk him down to simply cupcakes. Honestly, I fear for his teeth. I actually have no idea how everything works overseas, but I've also sent a fresh jar of cocoa. If it didn't survive the trip, there will be a steaming cup with your name on it when you return. Perhaps some whipped cream if you've been good.

We had our Miner's Day festival two weeks ago, and Leroy acquired a pickaxe and took it to a fuse box at Town Hall. Surprisingly he was sober when he did it, but I suppose his antic helped the nuns sell their candles. Dealing with the electricians for that was a complete waste of time.

Halloween is in a few days though, and we were wrong. Henry isn't Jim Hawkins, but I think you might like his new costume. He's also recruited a companion to take along with him when we go trick-or-treating.

Please be safe, Emma. We care about you and expect you home safe and sound.

Yours,

Regina

She signed her name and tucked the lone picture into the envelope along with the letter. Before she closed the flap, Regina smiled at the picture of Henry dressed in his army man costume, sitting on the couch with Rexy Jr., mimicking Emma and Rex's picture from months back, as the baby dinosaur sat proudly on Henry's shoulder, a carefully stitched army uniform clothing his torso with a miniature helmet to match.


November 24, 2004 – Storybrooke, Maine



Sidney quivered as he sat in front of Regina in her office at Town Hall. For such a petite woman, Regina could make even the biggest and strongest of men feel an inch small, so it was an easy task to make the nosy reporter nearly wet himself as Regina hissed lightly under her breath for his incompetence.

"I really don't understand what's so difficult for you to understand, Mr. Glass," Regina enunciated slowly, refraining from pinching the bridge of her nose to display her obvious frustration. "You are the one who put me in touch with the military, did you not?"

"I did, but–"

"Then why can you not locate Corporal Swan's location?"

"It's classified information, Regina. I, I mean, Madam Mayor," he stammered quickly to amend his mistake. "All I did was simply place an application in your name to pair you up. I didn't call the military directly to get her contact information."

"I was under the impression no media coverage was safe from your eyes which led me to believe you have connections, unsavoury or not," Regina began swiftly. "All I ask from you is to find out which camp Corporal Swan is stationed at. How difficult can that possibly be?"

"Units move constantly, and even individual soldiers get sent out on missions that are on a need-to-know basis. It could take weeks to even scratch the surface of finding your soldier," Sidney argued with just the barest hint of raising his voice before Regina's raised eyebrow had him cowering in his seat.

"Then get to it." She spoke slowly, enunciating every word and dismissing him all the same.

Sidney looked as if he wished to appeal to her reason, but after two months of silence, Regina's reason was thrown out the window, so the reporter took the logical approach and nodded his agreement, scampering out of her office hurriedly with his tail between his legs.

Regina exhaled through clenched teeth and willed the tension to leave her body, but it was no use. She was frustrated and tired, and the last time she had heard from Emma was when she had received her letter claiming to have landed in Iraq. True that had only been a month prior, but Emma had written that in September, and Thanksgiving was already tomorrow, and Regina half-hoped to expect her own letter and package had been received by the soldier by now. She knew it had landed safely since she had been monitoring the tracking number, but the phone call Regina expected to get never came.