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Summary
Porthos is trying not to burn pasta sauce when he hears his laptop dinging in the living room. He jerks in surprise, and sauce slops over the side of the pan onto the burner. Right away, it sizzles and starts to smoke, but Porthos barely notices. His heart's somewhere up in his throat. Only one person would be Skyping him unannounced at nine at night, and that would be someone nine and a half hours ahead of him with an unpredictable schedule.
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Three soldiers over thirteen years.
