Chapter 1
It had been nearly two years since the whole debacle with the crooked man. And for the most part things had quieted down for Sheriff Bigby Wolf. Of course, the entirety of fabletown still eyed him wearily as they had been for centuries, his more violent choices regarding the crooked man case not helping in the slightest. But at least he could say that there hadn't been anymore murders and with Snow acting as the new Deputy mayor, more fables were getting the help they needed.
Bigby figured he should be happy about all of that. In a mere two years his town was finally experiencing a long-awaited peace. It wasn't going to last but any moment of quiet was cherished. So then, why the hell did he feel so awful regardless? Maybe it was the years of fatigue finally catching up. Or was it the years of bottling up his natural urges and desires as a wolf. After all, this town was so insistent on forcing him to be human, but would never actually let him live down the fact that he is the Big Bad Wolf. 'We will have a fresh start here!' yeah, what a crock of bullshit. Usually he wouldn't let this all bother him so much; he was doing this all for Snow! So, if he was able to stay strong for her though all the bullshit, he could endure more for her.
He sighed and lit a Huff and Puff before getting up from his desk. He quietly made his way to the main office, where Snow worked, passing the much-dreaded line that usually filled the hall. He silently entered and looked around the office. Bufkin flew by, swiftly greeting Bigby before vanishing into the bookshelves without giving Bigby the chance to respond. He turned his gaze and say Bluebeard and Snow. Bluebeard was silently working for once, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he rummaged through paperwork. Snow was at her desk trying to pacify yet another fable, Bigby didn't recognize them so they likely didn't live in the woodlands.
Bigby sighed and walked over to the magic mirror as he took another drag of his cigarette. The mirror quickly woke itself and greeted him, "Well, well, if it isn't the wolf I see. What brings the likes of you to me?"
Bigby huffs, this damned mirror and his rhymes he just wanted to make sure that the mundies weren't causing trouble. Recently the woodman and Grendel had a fight and it was up to Bigby wolf to take care of the mundies that happened to be in the trip trap when they did. He takes his cigarette out of his mouth for a moment, "Mirror, mirror, the mundies had quite a shock…. show me that they're not around to gawk."
The mirror smiles, "See, when you actually try, your rhymes aren't so dry. "the mirror's image twisted and formed the image of 3 young Mundie boys. They seemed to be acting normal for mundies, it seemed that the spell the witches used was working as usual. If it weren't for those on the 13th floor, fabletown probably would've crumbled. As a community this town was just as dependent on them as they were on him. He nods, "Thanks, That's all for now."
As soon as the mirror goes back into is slumber Bigby looks to see if he could steal a moment to talk to Snow. He makes his move the moment at he dismisses the fable she was talking to her. He puts out his cigarette, "Snow!" he approaches her as she flinches and spins around to face him.
"Sheriff! What are you doing here?" She quickly rebounds from the small shock and crosses her arms, "You still have a pile of paperwork to file in Sheriff." She berated him coldly. That was her usual tone with him these days. Bigby would be lying if he said it didn't sting, and this had been how their relationship manifested in the aftermath of the crooked man incident. To be honest Bigby was starting to think he completely destroyed his chances with her with his choices back then, not that he though he had much of a chance to begin with.
"I'm sorry for interruptin' Snow- "Snow suddenly corrects him, "Ms. White or Deputy Mayor. Please be professional Sheriff."
Bigby frowns as he shoves down the stabbing pain in his heart and the whimper threatening to erupt from his throat. It ached, how much longer was she going to treat him like this? He had been good right? Bigby looks away from snow to hide the pain that he's sure is visible in his eyes, "Sorry… Ms. White…I was just here to check on something with the mirror…and to see if you needed my help with anything."
Snow sighs and turns back to her work, "No. You're not needed here right now. Please go finish that paperwork. "She doesn't respond to him after asserting that order so Bigby submits and wonders back to his office.
Before long the entire day had breezed by and Bigby was miserably wondering though the streets of Fabletown. He didn't really notice when the sun set or when an acquaintance waved, not that there were many to notice. But the point was Bigby's mind had harshly settled on his recent interactions with Snow.
The crooked man incident was a shit show, Bigby knew that. But, he though that Snow's distant behavior would be temporary. That she was just busy trying to make immediately changes for fabletown. But clearly his choices in that case had driven a huge wedge between them. Admittedly, he wasn't proud of how quickly he had resorted to violence back then. He had killed the crooked man before the bastard could even stand trial! Back then his decision seemed necessary! The crooked man was a threat and he wasn't going to let that asshole ruin fabletown, his territory! And he didn't burn Greenleaf's tree like snow wanted. Clearly he had done at least a few things to belittle Snow's authority, the previous examples only being the more severe examples. Or Snow could be scared of him now. She saw him in states that she had never seen him in before. He was always careful to always be nice and soft around her, but that case really had him backed into a corner so he had no choice but to get a bit dirty, even if it was in front of snow.
He looks around and notices that he was now in central park. He growls as he sits on one the benches, he suddenly felt too tired to walk anymore. He pulls out his pack of Huff and Puffs and places one between his lips and pulling his lighter out. He starts trying to ignite it. The first few clicks bring no flame. He tries a few more times with mild frustration, and only gets more pitiful clicks. He gets a little more desperate, a dozen more useless clicks sting his ears. He snarls, "Damn it! "he stops and spits the cigarette out of his mouth. He tries to compose himself and slumps back against the cold metal bench. He sighs wearily as a painful lump forms in his throat and he lets the dead lighter fall from his hand, "Fuck… This is just like…." He trails off.
