Starting a new story! Finally! I've had this on my mind for a while now, but haven't taken time to write. With three chapter finished I finally feel ready to share the first! Soooo excited! Next part coming tomorrow! Hope you enjoy! x

Snow Hope Jones' parents have no ordinary love story. While many of her friends told her stories of their parents' dull meetings or arranged marriages, arranged by their parents, she could in turn proudly tell them stories of how her mother and father met, not once, but four times.

How her mother tied her father to the tree the first time, how she kicked him in the crotch the second, how he got jealous of himself the third, and how he died for her and Henry the fourth. Each tale is more epic than the last, and she takes pride in being the only one she knows (except her brothers of course) who can take claim to those stories as they are her heritage.

She smiles faintly as she watches them from the other side of the diner. She sits shyly in the corner booth, they don't know she's there. Her father has his hooked arm around her mother's shoulders, holding her close to his side. A smile grazes both their faces, and her heart aches. They look happy. They are happy. She wishes she could tell them what's to come.

She studies her mother's features carefully. Everyone had always told her she took after Emma most. Staring at her mother's younger features she finally saw it better. She found her nose, her cheekbones and the apples of her cheeks easily. When Emma smiles at her own mother and Snow turns her head so Hope can see her profile, she sees her own chin in theirs. Something not unlike pride blooms in her chest, and she subconsciously sticks her own chin just a little higher in the air.

She prides in being one of them, she always have. She has carried the Jones' and Charming's name high her whole life. She enjoyed being one of them.

She could sit in her little corner much longer, watching the family she loves with a passion forever. See them smile and talk and laugh, no idea that she is there, and no idea of what she is planning.

She gives herself thirty seconds of happiness. Thirty more seconds to watch them. Her grandmother rocking baby Neal's carriage subconsciously, her oldest brother commenting on something in the conversation before returning to his book, her grandfather's hand coming around her grandmother to draw her closer to him, and her father pressing a quick but loving kiss to her mother's hair, her automatically nuzzling further into his chest.

Tears cloud her vision and she rises suddenly. Throwing a bill on the table and storms past their happy booth she almost runs the last steps to the bathrooms. As she closes the door she tries to breath, tries to get rid of the horrible lump in her throat.

She doesn't know if she could do it. She would loose them all. New tears well and she places herself by the sink. Staring into her own eyes the mirror in front of her, she curses lightly, knowing she has no choice.

Her face, her hair, and her chin may all be her mother's. But her eyes, though, her eyes are all her father's. She's a Jones; and a Jones never gives up.

Turning with determined steps she swipes her eyes with her sleeve and leaves the diner. She'll get nowhere by crying and she needs to get this overwith. The sooner she does it, the less damage it will leave in the end. She has to fix what she messed up.

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