The taxi was dingy and reeked of tobacco, and the woman in the backseat looked very much out of place. If she would have committed to these plans earlier perhaps she could have scheduled a chauffeur, but she knew that if she planned this reunion that it was never going to happen. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror she winced. She was probably overdressed. She took off her floppy wide-brimmed hat and shook out some of the curls in her scarlet red hair. That was.. better. She smiled at her reflection. It looked like a grimace. She puffed the air out of her checks and began looking listlessly out of the window. It wasn't too late. She could tell the taxi to take her home and she could try again next week.

The car jolted to a stop and the taxi driver oozed impatience. But still she hesitated.

"Hey Lady," the gruff taxi driver said in his thickly accented tone, "You gonna get out of my taxi or..?"

She nodded and handed him the fare.

"Tch. Bad tip." the man spat without counting the money.

She just rolled her eyes and stepped out of the car. As soon as the city smells hit her nose she knew she was home. Or, at least, the next best place. Despite her initial hesitation, she was starting to feel good about this idea. However, her new found resolve quickly dissipated as the speeding taxi splashed mud onto her calves and ankles. She desperately attempted to wipe the mess up. Not only did she not succeed at cleaning it, but she also managed to get her manicured hands dirty in the process. She sighed. This definitely wasn't a good idea. Maybe she should just walk into the lobby and use their phone to call herself another taxi home.

She quickly climbed the stairs and with each step she could feel her anxiety rising to startling heights. She peeked into the lobby finding it empty save for a sleeping security guard. She breathed a sign of relief and walked over to the payphone. But when she lifted it to her ear she found that the phone was not attached with any wires. She slammed the phone down, hard. That's right. Nothing works in Fable town. She glared at the sleeping guard.Especially not the Fables.

The guard's jacket was just draped over the chair. Mud comes of of clothes, but it doesn't come out of pride... So naturally, she wiped the mud away on the jacket. Just as she finished up and was about to toss the jacket onto the desk a large, bald man with a blue goatee entered the lobby and eyed her suspiciously.

"What are you doing," he said instantly defensive, "Just standing here in the lobby? Don't you have somewhere to be?"

She recognized him... Bluebeard. He was a wealthy Fable. He probably had a phone.

"Well," she said as she tossed the jacket onto the desk, "I was trying to call a cab but-" She gestured to the payphone on the wall.

His posture became noticeably more relaxed and he started to walk towards the elevator.

"Hey, I'm sorry," she said catching up to him, "and I was wondering, if it wasn't too much of an imposition, if you'd allow me to use your phone." She smiled up at him.

He quirked an eyebrow at her half expecting a joke, but when she continued to smile he scoffed and motioned for her to follow. She did so and internally celebrated the small win. They clamored into the tiny elevator and he pressed the "4" button. She was quite smug. She could feel her blood practically dancing beneath her skin. And she wondered if the heartless Bluebeard had ever been this accommodating to anyone. She doubted it. After all he was a serial killer. Wait. Bluebeard was a serial killer. A serial killer of women. And here she was idiotically following him back to his room when nobody knew that she was here.

"Why are you so well dressed," he said suddenly making her nearly jump out of her skin, "were you supposed to meet someone?"

She opened her mouth. Then closed it. What was she supposed to say? No, I'm alone in the city (relatively speaking) and I was making an impromptu visit to a sister who despises me. Why don't you just go ahead and murder me? How about lie? Lying is an option.

"Yeah," she said her voice rising by several octaves, "They cancelled, and I had to leave."

Nailed it.

"Oh? Really?" he said catching her in what must be the most obvious lie of all of the lies ever, "Who are you meeting?"

"Sno-ne of your business."

He chuckled. "It's fine, don't tell me." He paused dramatically, "Rose."

Rose looked at him then quickly away.

The elevator doors opened, and he swiftly walked down the hallway and to his door. As he began unlocking it he looked back to her.

"Well?" he said, "Still need to call that Taxi?"

She faltered.

"I don't bite. Much." He joked darkly.

That didn't help. She stood outside his door her feet glued to the floor.

"Suit yourself." He said and entered the apartment.

"Wait!"

He smiled and opened the door just enough that she could slip inside, but not enough that she could pass him without brushing up against him.

"Please," he asked as his eyes gleamed. "Come in."

She meekly stepped forward and slipped through the door. He waited a minute then closed the door behind her. Despite hearing the rumors, Rose was still surprised with how large and grand Bluebeard's apartment was. The walls were decorated with paintings, there were vases filled with flowers, and the furniture was antique but stylish. The most surprising thing, however, was how much light filled the apartment. She had expected it to be grand, but in a dark and dreary way. Without so much as a warning he strutted into the other room and she followed right on his heels. Sure enough there was a phone. She had never been so grateful to see a phone in her entire life.

"You know," Bluebeard said crossing his arms, "In order to make things right with Ms. White you actually have to speak to her." He leaned against the wall. "How much longer are you going to delay it? I've seen you outside the apartment building three or four times?"

She blushed but didn't respond instead she dialed the taxi service. He stood there watching her with indifference as she finished her call. She thanked him politely, and he walked her to the door.

"Well Ms. Rose," Bluebeard said leaning out of the door, "Until your next attempt."

She barked out a laugh, feeling much more relaxed out in the hallway. She turned to leave but stopped.

"I apologize," She started, "if I was acting a bit strangely."

He held up his hand, "It's to be expected."

She nodded. He wasn't wrong. He was a notorious killer of women.

"Rose?" said an all too familiar voice.

Rose turned slowly and was filled with abject horror when she saw Snow standing there. Snow looked, well, like Snow. Beautiful, poised, and stern.

"Hello sister," Rose said her voice much cooler than she intended.

Snow looked her up and door then glanced at Bluebeard. "Oh, I see." She said cold as her name sake. She turned on her heel and began walking away.

"Wait, hold on."

But it was too late. Snow was gone and there was no way she was going to catch up to her in these heels. She'd have to plan better next time. Maybe wear some tennis shoes.