A/N

Thanks for the patient wait guys, hopefully it shouldn't be too soon before I release the next part.

Chapter I: A Swift Exit, Part I

Yeah, he knew this would be a terrible idea, and it's shaping up as much so far. The fact of the matter is: turns out the Sheriff isn't supposed to pack up his bags and go on vacation without some form of permission.

So, long story cut short, him and Colin have been forced to hitch a ride with his mortal enemy.

"Do you shave your head, or do you wax it?" Colin asks.

"I'll shave your head clean off with my axe if you don't shut up," the Woodsman wittily retorts, uncharacteristically.

"Just askin'," the pig rolls his eyes.

"The airport. Why do you need to go to the airport?" Woody asks the forbidden question, scratching his head as though trying to figure out the answer himself. That, or he's attempting to magically regrow his hair follicular through stimulated touch.

"To get you some new clothes," Colin answers, avoiding the question with a jab. "I swear, is there something in your Fable which specially states you have to wear plaid shirts all the time?"

Funnily enough, this is one of the rare occasions the Woodsman has decided to wear a regular brown shirt, complete with dark brown trousers and shoes.

Noticing Bigby's examination, the Woodsman's cheeks start to turn a rosy red.

"I saw a stylist," he mumbles out of earshot of the pig, making sure only Bigby can hear his quiet voice.

Well... get another one, Bigby doesn't laugh, and only shakes his head disapprovingly, though a little bit of concern invades his thoughts. Since when did Woody care about his appearance? He's barely shaved since the old days, and he certainly smells like he's thousands of years old, that's for sure.

"Wherever you're going, I want to come too," the Woodsman surprisingly offers to join them, and Colin gives Bigby a troublesome grin.

"Sure, we could use an extra pair of hands with our Fabletown business,"the pig cheekily winks at Bigby whilst accepting the offer.

Although Bigby has no clue what Colin is dastardly planning, if it still includes them getting the hell out of this place for a while, he'll roll with it for now.

"Can you tell me what this business is? Seems a bit weird for you and Colin to be going together, Bigby," the Woodsman smartly points out the oddness of the coupling, since technically, Colin belongs at the Farm.

"It's top-secret," Bigby responds, almost sighing as he witnesses Colin smirking from the corner of his eye, "Which means no questions."

"Sure," the driver replies, certainly not as assured as someone who accepts Bigby's explanation.

Great. Things just went from being exciting and refreshing to irritating; hopefully, this vacation will make itself a lot simpler when they get on the plane. All he wants is a nice peaceful escape.

No more fighting, no more moaning, and definitely a large amount of alcohol and smokes.

Colin can have his little plans for Woody, and Woody can have his own escape as well.

But, no-one is getting in the way of his vacation.

"Damn," Woody mutters, slowly bringing the car to a stop. "We got a Mundie checkpoint."

Scowling at Colin, Bigby makes an empathised finger over his lips, silently threatening the pig with his eyes. The last thing he needs is an incident with the local PD saying they saw a pig talk.

It takes a few moments before it's their turn to be inspected, and Bigby realised too late that Colin has a seatbelt on and is sat like a human would, which isn't exactly something mundies are used to seeing on a daily basis.

"License and registration, please," the cop peers into the drivers window, and when his eyes turn towards the back seats, it's pretty clear he's either confused or amused at the sight of a pig inside.

"That a pig?" the cop asks, staring at Colin incredulously. "With... a seatbelt on?"

"What? Can't a man have a friend in this world?" Bigby starts, preparing himself to play a wildcard. "How would you like it if your pet couldn't go anywhere without people like you making rude remarks about his weight and smell, huh? Yeah, he's a pig, but he's my pig. If you have a problem with me having a pig, why don't you take a long, hard look at yourself in the mirror, and ask yourself 'how does the pig feel'."

An awkward silence drowns the car as Woody had stopped searching for his information when Bigby began his miniature rant, a faint ghost of an entertained smile haunting his lips.

"Uhh... just go on ahead," the cop confusedly mumbles, standing straight and going about his business with a look of sheer befuddlement on his face.

As they continue past the checkpoint, when out of earshot and sight of the police, Colin breaks out laughing, choking on thin air as he does. Even the Woodsman has an amused cough, shaking his head at the same time.

"Oh, Bigby, you are something," Colin wheezes, hand on his chest.

"What? I had to do something, and Mundies tend to get distracted when you act weird," the Sheriff defends his actions with an offended frown seared onto his forehead.

"You are a funny one, Bigby," Colin exhales.

"You won't be finding me funny when I strangle you to death," the wolf threatens, although fallen onto the deaf ears of the single most annoying Fable in history.

No wonder he keeps on escaping the Farm; perhaps, they simple get so annoyed with him, they just let him roam off and actually hope he never comes back.

That's what Bigby would do, anyway.

"Since when did interacting with mundies become your specialty?" Woody questions, intrigued.

"Since Snow is too 'busy' to keep mundies as far away from our business as possible, so that now falls to me," the Sheriff sighs. "If a Mundies decides to jog a different route one day and accidentally witnesses a troll peeking out from the sewers, guess who has the amazing responsibility of dealing with them?"

"They should make a TV show about you... and call it, 'The Mundy whisperer'," Colin jokes.

"Keep talking Colin, and maybe you'll eventually become funny."