First things first: HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIAGR32! As the winner of the 'Guess the title' competition in my first ever Once story 'Cursed' you won this story... Now I have to warn you all, its not quite finished. But I couldn't resist the urge to give you the prologue on your birthday, my friend! I do hope you will enjoy! (And thank you so much for the idea and the inspiration!)

Second: Happy sunday, Oncers! Can't wait for tonights episode... :D

Third: I hope you will all enjoy this little thing that drifted towards my mind thanks to a wonderful prompt filled conversation with Giagr32. Let me know what you think!

The power of the snark.

What would happen if Regina wasn't able to protect her heart with the thick wall she'd built around it so long ago? A new secret Operation leads to Regina's inability to produce snarks. But without her usual sarcasm holding her together, falling apart seems the only thing left for the former Queen to do. Or is there something (or someone) who can help her mend the broken pieces that once were her heart? SwanQueen.

The Power of the snark:

Prologue:

'Miss Swan, if you would…'

Regina Mills cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes as the words rolled off her tongue.

'Be so kind as to open the door for me?'

Her narrowed eyes now widened at the sound of her own voice, the kindness in them like a memory, long forgotten. Emma, who had already approached to help when she'd seen the former mayor struggle with the packages she had just picked up at the grocery-store, showed her a surprised but genuine smile.

'Sure thing, Regina… Let me take those.'

She supposed it was the astonishment that made her loosen her grip, without the slightest hesitation and allow Emma Swan (of all people!) to pluck the paper bags from her hands.

What the hell had just happened?

The perfect snark had lain on her lips at the moments she had seen the savior's intentions. It had combined the blonde's father's excessive need for chivalry and her mother's excessive need for interference where not needed. She knew Emma, and she knew that, with her remark, she would have received assistance and kept her pride intact. It had been a stupid situation she had gotten herself in, hurrying out of the store when the glares had become too much.

'Are you having a party?'

'I hardly think anyone would arrive, dear…'

The tone… The disappointment that sounded through her voice was already excruciating, but the tone. So innocent and naïve and… kind…

What was happening to her?

She wanted to add something sarcastic, something that would take the edge off the sadness and vulnerability, but when she opened her mouth to speak the words, something along the lines of: 'Too afraid of poison, you see?' she found them, yet again, stuck in her throat.

Whatever it was that had gotten a hold of her, maybe Emma had the same problem, because, instead of the usual edge, Regina could only find a kind compassion in those emerald eyes. And she could have sworn she heard the woman say 'I would.' under her breath.

The bags had been placed in her trunk, not in the organized and precise way Regina would have preferred, obviously, and the woman felt the corner of her mouth curl up.

It always came to her, she did not even have to fully form the snide remarks that were her trademark in her mind. She just conjured them from a place in her subconscious where they seemed always in stock, sensed how they connected with the situation and then felt them in the bottom of her heart before they found their way to their recipient.

She opened her mouth to free the sentence, something about skills and bag-boys and Emma's education, already smirking in anticipation of the huffed response she would receive.

'Thank you.'

What the hell?

She had to give it to the Sheriff, the woman recovered quickly. When she had pulled her jaw up from the floor (another remark Regina found herself unable to utter) that awful, genuine, terrible, gorgeous smile adorned the pink lips once more.

'Any time…'

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she slid into the Mercedes. She fidgeted with the key and was absolutely horrified that her trembling hands seemed to have trouble finding the ignition. Because she felt the comment bubble up in her chest and tried with all her might to suppress it. She sighed, relieved, when the key finally slid into their place and she could start the car.

Emma had already start to walk away and it would have been so easy to just put her black steed into gear and let it carry her home as it had so many times before. But her fingers had already found the means to open the window, the words, carried by the wind reaching the blonde.

'You have a lovely smile.'

She had always known her Mercedes had an amazing acceleration speed. She just had never tried it.

Until now.

Earlier that week:

'But… I just don't get it. She said she was going to change.'

Henry's face was scrunched up in concentration, his young eyes hopefully looking up at his blonde mother, as if she could help him make sense out of the situation.

Emma sighed, feeling the urge to explain but also the fear of not being able to find the right word. The phone call had not supposed to have been overheard, least of all by her son. But then again she should have known that putting the thing on speaker while she got ready for her day was not a good idea. Henry had her genes after all and he had (surprise, surprise!) been eavesdropping.

So he had heard Regina's (not too kind) remarks on Emma's care for Henry, the lack of home-cooked meals and proper home-work guidance. And, after she had hung up, she had found him, tears on his cheeks, outside her room.

'Listen kid, it's complicated…'

He looked at her with a face that said: "you always say that." And she knew, this time, it wouldn't be so easy.

'Sometimes people, adults… Sometimes we say things we don't really mean…'

'You mean you lie?'

'Well, sort of… It's more. Your mom, when she's hurt, she doesn't like it when people see her like that, you know… Vulnerable and stuff…

God this was hard! The boy looked at her pensively.

'When she says those things, she is hurt?'

'Your mom, kid, Sometimes I feel…'

She looked as his expectant face looking up at her and sighed, deciding on another angle.

`Do you remember when Pongo had that thorn in his paw?'

Henry nodded, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

'When he almost bit Archie when he was trying to get it out?'

'Yes. Do you remember how he growled at you when you tried to get close?'

He nodded again, pensively, and looked so much like Regina at that moment, Emma needed a second to catch her breath.

'But that was because he was in pain.'

Now it was Emma's turn to nod, her lips curling up in a sad smile.

'Well, kid, I think your mom is in constant pain.'

He glanced at his hands, confused, and she only had genetics to blame for the fact that she had instantly understood him. She knew he would get there in the end, he was a smart kid after all, but decided to help him anyway. Her words sounded hoarse when she spoke them, as if she hadn't used her voice in weeks.

'But with her, the thorn is here…'

Placing her hand over his heart, she saw the understanding flash in his eyes, before she felt his small hand join hers. Biting her lip, she averted her eyes, surprised at the amount of emotion that rushed through her.

Enough with this…

'So, kid, how about some cocoa?'

'Cool!'

She turned, glad to give her hands something to do. She didn't notice how her son's hand kept resting on his sternum, hovering his heart. And missed the determent flame that had started flickering in his hazel eyes.

TBC

Ps: Reviews are like magic!