A/N: To be honest, I'm not sure what this is exactly.. "Letters from Vietnam" by B.o.B. is my current obsession (as evident from my tumblr box. haha), so I'm just going with it. It's not happy, so TW for the rivers I shed while writing. I don't know if I'm gonna continue it or just leave it as a drabble. there are a few ways I could go if I continue. Obviously it's up to what I read in the reviews if this is a good stopping point or not. I haven't done much writing in a while, and I needed to do a little research on Canada's involvement in the war. They didn't fight, but they helped the US up to a point, so here's this. AU Military Sam.

"Promise me you'll write?"

"Sweetheart, I'll be gone for two weeks at the most. It's only a supplies mission. We won't even be armed."

"How is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Believe me, if this wasn't a direct order from the General, I would be fighting my deployment every step of the way," his voice insisted, though they both knew that wasn't entirely true. Sam didn't shrink away from duty. It was merely the fact that his father had ordered him into service that he wasn't standing there complaining right alongside her.

The brunette frowned up at him, her smooth brow now littered with wrinkles of worry. He was leaving for a war that wasn't even theirs. She still didn't know how to reconcile it. Part of her was frustrated with the government for sticking their neck out for a conflict that was half a world away. Of course, there was the ever-present fear of the spread of communism, even here up north.

Regardless, she couldn't bear to see him go- and Sam couldn't bear to see her cry. He reached up and his gentle finger brushed away a bit of moisture from the corner of her eye. Jules blinked quickly and glanced away to compose herself. His lips pursed in a frown as he watched her reactions, and that same gentle finger traced down her cheek to her chin, turning her face back towards him.

Sam kept his hand there, just feeling the warmth that continued to come off her in waves. His blue eyes locked with hers. "I will come home to you. That's a promise." He lowered his head to hers, their lips barely touching, and Jules couldn't help but tremble under that touch.

"I don't want you to go," she whispered softly into the kiss.

Sam closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. "I know."

They stood there in the comfortable silence for what felt like forever. The moment was shattered by a honking car outside. Jules closed her eyes tighter, pressed her lips more against each other as she fought back the urge to cry. They both knew it was Mike outside, waiting to take Sam to the base. Private Scarlatti was not just another man going overseas with Sam. He was a friend. Jules supposed she could gain some comfort from that. Two weeks.

"I promise."

The words, so gently spoken, had her gaze involuntarily flicker up to him. She wasn't sure what he was referring to, and yet her heart was already constricting from what he had said.

"What?"

"Every day. Twice daily," Sam licked his lips and grinned, taking one more kiss for himself. Understanding dawning, Jules wrapped both arms tightly around his neck and returned the kiss eagerly.

He was reluctant to pull back, but with another honk of their friend's honk, Sam knew he needed to. One last time, he tucked a smooth tendril of her hair sweetly behind her ear and dropped a kiss to her forehead.

They weren't going to say goodbye. This wasn't goodbye. It was just... Until next time. Their fingers were the last things touching as he shouldered a tan colored bag and stepped out through the front door. The driver at the curb threw them a wave, but only Sam returned it. He glanced over his shoulder and winked at the ball of nerves behind him who was so desperately trying to appear to be okay.

"See you soon, Sweetheart."

Goodbye, my love.
The country is in need of me.
And I heard there were signs for war,
so I'm goin' overseas.