hunnyfresh - Letters from War

Ten days ago, she had been too upset at everything to find comfort in them, but as soon as that feeling settled, she slapped herself over the head for such thoughts. The day she couldn't look at their picture was the day she'd be dead. Her talk with Neal had helped, though now and again it was a little awkward to look the man in the eye since Emma admitted just the tiniest hint of jealousy for his life. He never brought it up again, and for that she was grateful.

She had been so used to no one caring about her that finally having someone who did was like a complete one-eighty. She and Regina needed to talk when she returned, that Emma put a tack on in the back of her mind, but her anger lasted all of one day before she was missing the feel of Regina under her arm as they curled up on the couch or the way Henry hugged her neck tightly while she did push ups. She finally had special people in her life, and she had to get used to the concern they showed. What made it harder was that her squad had been sent on patrols and road block duties so often that Emma didn't have the time or resources to write to Regina. A phone call in the middle of nowhere was out of the question.

She just hoped Regina wasn't still mad at her. Emma had moved from home to home a great deal in her life, but for the first time, she wasn't quite ready to give this one up. If Regina truly had had enough of being responsible for Emma then the soldier would understand. In the back of her mind Emma prepared for it–it was her natural instinct to protect herself. But realizing the turmoil Regina must be going through put their little dispute into perspective and made Emma appreciate the brunette all the more. Sometimes she wondered who had it worse: the soldier risking their life or the loved one back home ignorant to the status of their soldier.

Rock and dirt crunching under tire growled in the otherwise quiet air. A large truck pulled up along the road, and Emma rolled her eyes to see Spencer step out from the passenger side. A small flurry of troops departed from the bed of the vehicle, bringing flood lights and provisions with them as they silently worked on unspoken orders.

"Swan." She was the first Spencer made eye contact with as the rest of her team approached from their various locations. She stood hastily, pocketing her pictures, but the one of her, Regina, and Henry fluttered the to ground. Despite his approaching figure, Emma rushed to pick it up, but a big, heavy boot came over the photograph. "What's this?"

Emma had no choice but to straighten back up and stare straight ahead as Spencer bent down, removed his boot, and lifted the already wrinkled picture now covered in dirt and grime. She didn't realize she was holding her breath until the swirls of dizziness and nausea set in, but still, Spencer continued to gaze studiously at the picture, his eyes amused by the upward curl of Emma's lips as she beamed into the camera and the brightness of her eyes, far different than the shifty, dullness that now currently stood before him.

With a simple glare to the men around him, Spencer dismissed them giving him and Emma the space for privacy. Her pulse quickened under her uniform, but she otherwise appeared impassive.

"This is yours, soldier," Spencer pointed out the obvious, extending the picture to Emma but clearly not giving it up.

"Yes, sir," Emma said flatly.

Spencer raised an eyebrow as the corner of his lips curled in amusement, like a predator stalking its prey, but Emma continued to hold his gaze and kept her back straight offering no other explanation.

"Attractive little thing," he said quietly, the pad of his finger stroking over Regina's face.

Emma's eyes darted to the picture, but she kept her breathing even before addressing him again. "Yes, sir."

He smirked at the picture and licked his lips. His voice was quiet, a thought spoken out loud, but it was clearly meant for Emma's ears as he commented. "I wouldn't mind breaking that in."

Emma blinked.

Spencer squinted, waiting for the reaction that didn't come.

"And the boy–"

"My godson, sir," she interrupted, prepared for whatever consequence at that blatant disrespect, but Spencer simply looked at Emma, hearing past the lie, to back down at the picture and scoffed with undisguised disgust.

He leaned in closer, his breath beating down the front of her face as he snarled. " Straighten up , soldier." Tossing the picture at her chest before it sank to the ground, he turned and addressed Cabrera. "Sergeant, you and your men are ordered to stay here until further notice. Aerial sightings suggest this to be a stop point of some kind. . ."

Emma didn't hear the rest of his commands as she stooped down to pick up the picture, stuffing it back into her pocket. Her face showed to be taking in every word of the General, but her mind kept swimming with a fear she hadn't felt since she was a teen. What did Spencer know? What did he think he knew? Regardless, all she knew was that she wanted to go home.

December 27, 2004 – Storybrooke, Maine

"You'll come back for this?" Regina asked hopefully.

Emma chuckled and let the necklace go, shaking her head as wayward wisps of blonde hair rubbed against Regina's own locks. "I'll come back for you."

Regina grinned and tugged Emma to her by the back of the neck, connecting their lips more passionately and less timidly than they had ventured mere seconds ago. The blonde's firm weight pressed rightly against her own, and as Emma's hand found Regina's lower back, Emma guided Regina down onto the bed. Bare legs tangled amidst the sheets, hands wandered over the contours of their bodies, and hot breath mingled so fluidly between the women as they broke their kiss just to start all over again.

Regina couldn't suppress the giggle as Emma pulled away, tugging a plump lip along with her then releasing it to excavate the expanse of neck as Regina tilted her head back on the bed, her throat quivering under Emma's lips.

"I wanted to do this for so long," Emma whispered against heated flesh before nipping at the juncture between Regina's shoulder and neck.

The brunette's breath hitched before she buried her hands in yellow locks and tugged Emma up until their foreheads were pressed together. The air between them was thick with tension, and Emma's eyes dilated with a desire that Regina hadn't felt in ages.

"Really?" The wonderment in chocolate eyes made Emma crawl up to her knees until she was straddling the older woman and cupped her face between both palms.

"Regina, you're my best friend." She smiled so brightly, the bedside light appeared dim in comparison. Regina wanted to look away and hide her pleased embarrassment, but Emma's beaming face was much too pleasant to miss. "You're more than that. There's not much else I thought about when I realized that."

Regina searched Emma's intense stare as if detecting one last time for any lie, but all she saw was sincerity. With her last resolve she tilted her head up and kissed Emma hard. Her leg came up, nestling in between Emma's parted ones, and with a well-placed hand on the soldier's toned back, their bodies collided firmly again.

Emma moaned as Regina's repositioned leg came in contact with a part of her body that was just as aching as Regina's. It was an accident really, but one neither woman could complain about. Emma returned to letting her lips trail down an olive neck and subtly shifted so that her position mimicked Regina's from the top, and soon, a chorus of moans and throaty gasps filled the air.

With a strength Regina rarely showed, she locked a leg around Emma's and flipped the blonde onto her back, Emma yelping in surprise. Regina simply smirked, her hands trailing up Emma's stomach and pushing the fabric of her tank top up as she went. Toned muscles rippled under her touch, and Emma gasped when Regina stopped just shy of unveiling her breasts.