First and foremost, I want to thank every one of my followers who are here in support and looking forward to this- yes, new story. Secondly, yes, I realize this isn't an update to any of my other stories, but don't fret. Updates are coming. I promised them. Possibly by now many of you will realize that this version of my story is based on a book I came across on. For those of you that recognize it, please keep it to yourselves. *No spoilers.* For those of you who don't. You are in for a treat! I hope you all enjoy this and that it makes up for my absence as I get through my reading streak. :) Glad to be back and writing for you all!

Please leave your reviews and more will be posted tomorrow. Happy reading!

Groundhog Day. That's what full-blown deployment days were like for Emma. Her time in Afghanistan was so predictable, it had all turned into a pattern for her. It was easy. Routine for Emma was safe. As safe as it could be out here, that is. She, along with her fellow-family- the only family she has ever known- were a month into another undisclosed location in another country they had never been in, and routine was about the only thing comfortable about it.

Except for today. Today had been anything but routine.

Mission accomplished, as usual, but at a price. Lately that price seemed to be becoming steep.

Emma lifted the ball clutched tightly in her hand, squeezing it momentarily, watching as one of her veins along the back of her hand manifests. Her arm swung and her hand released the bright red ball, hearing it bounce into the distance. But never too far. Bringing her hand back to view, she flexed her fingers- because she could.

Her green eyes looked up to the blue of the sky. The only clean and beautiful thing about this place. Or maybe everything just felt dirty today. Who the hell knew.

A padding of paws strode across the ground, over to Emma, two huge glossy eyes stared up at her, while the rump of a golden retriever hit the floor. A snout holding onto the ball, releasing it only on Emma's command. She swung her arm back, her fingers releasing the ball- not too far- once again.

"What would we do without her?" August nods as the golden retriever speeds past his legs. His arms are occupied by a square cardboard box.

"You got me." Emma's attention turned to Nala, who's tail wagged happily for having retrieved the ball so quickly. Her paws striding back toward her owner.

Nala had to be the best service dog to get to where they were, on a tier-one team that operated without technically existing. She was a spec op dog, which was about a million miles above any other military working dog.

She also proudly belonged to Emma, which automatically made her the best.

She was Emma's special girl. The only one she needed.

Nala sat patiently at Emma's feet, the bright red ball clutched along her teeth.

Emma reached for it, and Nala was gone before she could even retract her arm to throw it. "Any word on Hatter?" She asked, watching August casually drop the box along his cot.

There's a frown well marked along his lips, "Lost his arm. Elbow down."

Emma's eyes look down to her grazed wound, marked perfectly along the sleeve of her uniform, the thread cut and splattered with red. All she got was a baby gash along her arm, a scar to add to the other dozens of scars to add to her collection, while Hatter will be holding his newborn daughter with a prosthetic arm.

"You really should get that looked at." August's eyes fall along the graze on Emma's arm.

"It's all stitched up," Emma shakes her head. "It's just a graze, nothing to throw a fuss over."

"It's not so much throwing a fuss, Swan," Said August. "You don't think I see the way that cute nurse from infirmary eyes you every time you have a new injury?" He grins.

Emma scoffs under her breath, reaching for the ball from Nala's mouth before tossing it again.

"Come on, Swan," August shrugs, nodding to Nala who sprints off. "She can't be the only woman in your life."

"Why not? Nala is loyal, gorgeous, she can seek out explosives, or take out someone trying to kill me. She's perfect."

August shook his head, he tore into the cardboard box while Emma's back was momentarily turned, her hands not wasting time in scratching along Nala's ears. "Look, I'll I'm saying, Swan," he stood up right, his hands casually hidden behind his back. "Is you don't have anyone. Sure you look at girls, but you never stick around to get to know one. You know, form an attachment."

"I hear what you're saying, Aug, I do." Emma nods. "But I have you and I have Nala. Besides, what are you going on about? I don't see you stringing along attachments either."

"Hey, just because I haven't had a girlfriend in a while it doesn't mean I don't have attachments. I have a home, people I care about back there."

Attachments were a bad thing as far as Emma knew. Attachments meant change, distractions, and that was something she couldn't allow herself. Any sort of attachment to people, places or things- well, they screwed you over.

"Swan! Mills! Let's go!" A fellow soldier called out from the North building.

"Nala, come." Emma walked past August, halting as she felt his hand clasp along her arm.

"Hey," August scratched along his beard in a nervous manner that Emma knew all too well in the ten years she's known him. "Before you leave. We have five minutes until we have to leave. I uh… left you something on your bed." He nods.

"What is it?" Emma's brow furrows.

August waits a beat. "It's a letter."

"A letter? From who? Everyone I know is loading up out there." Emma points North.

August's eyes look down to his boots. "My sister."

"Come again?" Emma's brows hit her hairline.

His eyes lock onto Emma's. His chin lifted. "You heard me. My sister Regina."

Emma blinked, her brain flipping through the many photographs that August flashed around for the last ten years. Regina Mills. Brunette, chocolate colored eyes unlike anything Emma had ever seen, killer smile. "And why on earth would your sister write to me?" She asked.

August, shrugged. His eyes looking down at his dirty boots once again. "I just thought you might like a pen-pal."

"A pen-pal? We're not in the fifth grade, Mills." She looks down to the feel of Nala nestling next to her leg. Nala was good at sensing the mood changes in Emma, she was attuned to even the slightest change in her body actions by now.

"It's not like that," August held up a hand. "Listen. Regina just asked me if there was anyone who I knew was in need of a friend, and I thought of you. You know, given that you are the only one without a family, so…"

Emma scoffed, walking out of the door and kicking dirt with her boots. Nala followed close behind, leaving August standing there- alone. August sighed, picking up the white envelope and tucking into one of his pockets to shelter it from any danger before walking out of the room to join their small group of ten.

"Alright, listen up-" Captain Calloway puffed out his chest as he stood at the head of the conference table. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but we're not going home. We have a new mission."

Emma exchanged a knowing look with Nala who looked up at her as if on command. A new mission meant more excitement for her. Something to look forward to. Everyone else- including August- who groaned and mumbled profanities under their breaths. They all had distractions, setbacks- families- wives, kids to go home to. Everyone had attachments.

Late at night, Emma laid in her cot, tossing Nala's red ball along the wall, watching as it bounced right back in her hand. Nala's head followed the ball swiftly, waiting for a toss that never came.

"Shit," August grumbled, lying along his cot, the springs crying beneath him. "Another mission. Can you believe it? We were supposed to go home."

The door opens, and a much younger soldier- younger than Emma and August- comes in, holding a care package from his mother. A happy little smile splitting his lips. "Hey, ya'll want to try a couple of my mom's blueberry muffins? She baked me so many, I don't know what to do with them." He tossed one to August, who caught it bare handed.

"Thanks." August grinned, sitting up along his cot to eat it, peeling away at the paper one inch at a time.

Taylor was from Texas and proud to have joined the service. Of course, what was not to be proud of? Especially when he was the first one in his family that ever amounted to anything truly heroic. So, he told everyone time and time again. His mother was really proud of him. He never really knew his father, so he was all his mother had. And he lived to make her proud.

"Swan?" He held a muffin toward Emma.

Emma reached for it, but didn't take a single bite. Instead she broke off a piece and tossed it directly at Nala, who gobbled it up in a single bite.

Taylor watched as Nala waited for another piece that was immediately tossed to her. He smiled, adjusting his black flamed specs along his eyes. "Hey, is she really as vicious as the others say? She looks really sweet to be a service dog."

As if to make a point, Nala bared her teeth, growling at Taylor as he extended his hand in an attempt to pet her.

"Yes, she is," Emma grinned proudly. "And make no mistake, she will kill you on command. So, do yourself a favor and don't ever try to touch her again." She allows Nala to growl once more as if to make a point. "Nala," she calls out. "Down."

Nala lays her head along the cot, right on Emma's outstretched leg, blinking up at Emma as if nothing had happened.

"Shit," Taylor mutters under his breath.

"Don't take it personally," August said. "Swan here doesn't like attachments. Except for that dog." He points to Nala, who captures another piece of flying muffin as Emma tosses it at her.

"Did you guys hear about Hatter?" Taylor asked, frowning.

"Yeah," August frowned.

"At least he'll get to go home."

"He'll be pretty bummed about missing out on this mission we have tomorrow." Said August. "But at least he'll be with his baby girl. He has to be happy about that."

"Ya'll nervous about this new mission tomorrow?" Taylor's Adam's apple bobs.

"Piece of cake." Emma shakes her head.

"Don't worry, new kid," August's hand lands along the kid's shoulder, while his other free hand steals another muffin. "We'll watch your back. We're all family here. Besides, who else is going to bake us delicious muffins like your mom's?" He grins, taking a bite.

"You're one to talk," Taylor scoffs. "Your sister's cookies are something to die for. What's her secret?"

August grunts as he plops along his squeaky cot, "I'd tell you, but… then I'd have to kill you." He grins.

"Family recipe?"

"You know it." August leans his back along the wall again.

"Well, I can respect that. My mom is secretive with her recipe's too." Taylor grins, He adjusts his glasses again before walking over to his cot at the end of the room.

Emma was engraved in a book that she had read many times before, but she could still pick up on the crying of August's cot springs as he shifted along. Her eyes landed on something that fell along her stomach. Regina's letter. Her fine cursive engraved her name Swan along the white envelope.

"Open it." Said August. "You don't have to reply to her if you don't want to. If you don't, I'll just have to let Regina down easy. But, we're going out there tomorrow, Swan… aren't you the least bit curious as to what she has to say to you?"

With that, she watches as August lays on his cot, along his side. His back facing her. His way of giving her some privacy.

Emma's green eyes fall on the white envelope still nestled along her stomach. With a sigh, she reaches out, and allows her fingers to create a small tear along the flap until it becomes completely undone. She unfolds the which is folded up neatly into three parts. Regina's cursive being the first thing her eyes see.

Dear Swan,

I hope you don't mind my writing to you. I have been well informed from my dear brother that you aren't a person that typically thrills to the idea of this sort of pen-pal thing, but when I asked August if anyone he knew in the service was in need of a pen-pal, yours was the name I was given.

So hi, I'm Regina. I am well aware of the whole no-real-names-in-correspondence rule. Believe it or not, I've been writing these letters just as long as my brother has been doing what he does… which, I guess is what you do.

Now, before you put this letter aside and mumble something awkward- yes, August has made me well aware that you do that when you think nobody is listening- know that this is just as much uncomfortable for me as it is for you. Considering that I'd be able to have a safe place to vent away from the curious eyes of this tiny, nosy town, it would almost be like I'm using you.

So, if you'd like to be my ear, I'd be grateful, and in return, I'd be happy to be yours. Also, not to brag- but, I make pretty amazing apple turn-overs. I've supplied some for you as well, you know, if you ever become curious about their taste. If they aren't included with this letter, then you have my permission to beat my brother up for me, because that could only mean that he has stolen them from you.

Now to properly introduce myself… First and foremost, this isn't a singles ad. I give you my word. I'm not looking for anything more than a pen pal- a very faraway pen pal- I promise. Military men don't do it for me. Well, not that it's any of your business, but if you must know, men in general don't do it for me. But, rest assured, military women aren't my cup of tea, either. I don't have time for romance in my life right now.

Of course, given August and his big mouth, I'm sure he has filled you in on my sexual preference. As well as the fun fact that I do have a son. Yes, I am a single mother and no, I don't regret that choice. I hate the looks people constantly give me in this town that implies my life choices. It gets a little tiring after a while.

If pen-pal kids aren't your thing, I won't take offense to that. But no apple turn-overs I'm afraid. Those are exclusively for pen-pal's only.

I'm twenty-six and my son is nine, which, if you did the math correctly, means he was born when I was seventeen years of age. And if you think shocking our little town of Storybrooke by deciding to raise him on my own was enough, I just about gave it a coronary when I took over solitude after my parents passed. I was twenty at the time, and my son was still a baby. This town is where August and I were well raised, therefore I wanted my son to have the same town to look up to.

Henry and I live in the house at the end of town. It's bigger than all the other houses in this town, because my father wanted it that way after he built it with his own two hands for our mother when she was pregnant with me. August likes to pretend he is the big brother around our roots, but the truth is- he couldn't be more wrong.

Henry- my son- is my life. I'm ridiculously overprotective of him, and I proudly recognize it. I'll admit- only to you- I tend to overreact, building a fortress around him sometimes, which keeps me kind of isolated, but there are worse flaws to have, am I right? Henry can be pretty quiet most of the time. I can easily find him engraved in a book around the house, but other days… well, he's usually somewhere, doing something he shouldn't be.

You'll probably think I'm insane, but as his mother I think he's a pretty terrific kid.

As for me…

I guess you can say that I'm always doing what I have to, and never what I really should be, or what I want to. But I think that's the nature of being a mom and running a business. Speaking of said business, I have to get back to my duties that daily call out to me, but not before sealing up this box and shipped out to you and my brother.

Write back if you wish. If you don't, I assure you I won't take offense. Just know that there's someone in the small town of Maine sending warm thoughts your way.

-Regina.

Emma turned to August as soon as she heard a faint crunch. "August!" She called out as his back still faced her.

"Whut?" August looked over his shoulder, a visible ball of food stored within his scruffy cheek. "You snooze, you lose, Swan!"

"I have permission to beat you to a pulp if you don't leave me one of those." Emma informed him, turning her attention back to Regina's letter as she read it over once more.

Three nights. That's all it took for the mission to be successful. But it didn't go without its consequences of losing another member of the family. Texas kid was dead. He earned everyone's respect that night while he gave his life saving their only doctor's ass from a bullet to the head.

Emma sighed, staring up at the white ceiling of their room, unable to sleep. Her eyes turned to the clock along the wall, watching as the big hand struck twelve. Happy Birthday, Emma, she thought to herself. Officially, she was twenty-eight years old. And whether it was because it was her birthday- and she was a year older than yesterday- or because Taylor was just a kid hoping to make a hero out of himself to help his mother, just like she helped shape him into a man she was profoundly proud of, she wasn't sure. But she felt a sting of sadness.

No attachments. Emma reminded herself, shaking her head and shutting her eyes tight for a moment before opening them up again. She was lucky to be alive. The mission, although successful, could have gone a hell of a whole lot worse.

These men and other women in the service with her were her family. But, the closest thing Emma had to family- really- was August.

Attachments were trouble.

On pure impulsivity, Emma reached for her flashlight, clicking it on and resting it along her shoulder. Next she reached for the letter that she had hidden well underneath her pillow. That was its home when she wasn't carrying it on her person. Truth be told, Emma couldn't even explain it to herself, but she had read this letter about a dozen times now that she could recite it by memory.

She opened up the white sheet of paper, scrolled with beautiful feminine cursive letters, her mind placing Regina's words with the pictures she had seen of her face from August's endless photographs that Emma recalled seeing over the years. She could imagine Regina sneaking away little moments during the morning, maybe during her job just to finish this letter. She couldn't help but wonder what her day had been like that day.

Emma wondered what kind of luck did any guy have to strike to be able to get Regina pregnant? An asshole, obviously. Or what kind of woman in her early twenties- being a kid herself- would take on raising a kid all by herself? A really damn strong woman, that's for sure.

A very strong and very capable woman that she needed to get to know. Emma couldn't explain it, and she didn't want to. But the yearning that grabbed a hold of her was uncomfortable and undeniable.

Keeping as quiet as she possibly could, Emma took out a notebook and a pen. A half an hour later, she sealed it securely in an envelope, writing out Regina's hand with a not-so-neat cursive handwriting, but a shaky one. She made her way out of her cot and walked over to August's, smacking his shoulder with said letter.

"What the hell?" August snapped at her, rolling away.

"Given that you've eaten my apple turnovers, I need you to mail this out for me." Emma pronounced every one of her words with the same commanding tone she would reserve for Nala, if she were talking to her.

August laughed, shaking his head as he settled it back along his pillow. His breathing was calm and steady as he pulled his blanket over his shoulder.

"I'm serious, August." First name bases meant serious business.

"Sure, sure," August waved a lazy hand, settling quickly back into his squeaky mattress. "I'll mail whatever you want. Just go to sleep, Swan."

Joining her own letter, Emma tucked her correspondence to Regina safely underneath her pillow for the time being as she settled back into her cot. Her eyes momentarily looked to August, who's back faced her once again. "Thank you, August," she whispered, knowing perfectly well he was too knocked out to hear her. "Thank you for her."