Bigby stared quietly at the two kids in front of him, not sure how to react.

Dipper Pines, supernatural mystery solver and investigator, with his dorky demeanor and shaggy appearance, and a family of oddballs. He doesn't exactly have the most impressive social status, and was pretty low on the totem pole of popularity. Still, he was widely known as a good and intelligent kid.

Pacifica Northwest. The most powerful 12 year old on the west coast, with parents able to buy, sell, and then buy you again. She dressed in only the newest fashions, with an air of glitz around her at all times. She has a reputation for being a snooty brat, and is held in high regard to the entire town.

Now they were standing side by side, blushing and not daring to meet the wolf in the eye. Tense air filled the alleyway, as time almost seemed to stop. Wendy stood next to the sheriff, her jaw hanging low. "Oh. My. God," She said in disbelief.

Bigby had his arms crossed. He was shocked, angry, concerned, happy, and puzzled all at the same time. His eyes darted back and forth at the two kids, as he tried to figure out what to say.

Wendy rubbed her neck. "Well, at least you got over that little crush, Dip," she said to the boy, who was still silent.

Bigby pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can you just...I mean...what the hell?" Bigby bluntly asked, frustrated.

Dipper sighed. "A little bit ago, there was this party, and Pacifica asked me to get rid of a ghost. We couldn't really stand each other, but...I don't know. We started actually liking each other."

"Not like like!" Pacifica clarified.

"Definitely not. Just friendly like," Dipper agreed.

Bigby sighed. "So, you two just started hanging out?"

Dipper twiddled his thumbs. "Yeah..."

Bigby rubbed his face. "Dipper, do you realize how much trouble this girl is?"

Pacifica looked offended. "Hey!"

"Not because of you," Bigby stated. "Even though I still don't like you. Dipper, do you know what her parents will do if they find out?"

"Wait, you're not going to tell them, are you?!" Dipper panicked.

"No, of course not, I-"

"Wait," Pacifica interrupted. "Have you been spying on me?"

Bigby stared at the girl. "You're smarter than you look."

The heiress rolled her eyes. "Jerk."

"It's nothing personal," Bigby assured. "I just have a weird history with blondes."

"Bigby, you can't tell her parents," Dipper implored the Big Bad Wolf.

"Relax, I'm not going to tell her parents," The fable told him. "But I'm not the only one Preston has looking around for him. Sooner or later, he's going to find out, and it's going to be ugly."

Pacifica got a saddened expression on his face. "He's right," she lamented, earning surprised glances from everyone in the alley. "Daddy will do anything to keep me us from being friends."

"But Pacifica-" Dipper started to protest, but the blonde threw her hand up to stop him from talking.

"I don't want to hear it. You know how he is, I know how he is, and that guy with the weirdly coiffed hair knows how he is."

"Hey!" Bigby complained at the slightly veiled insult.

"Oh shut up, you know it's true," The heiress argued. She then sighed. "This sucks."

"Yeah," Dipper agreed, depressed.

Bigby looked at the two kids for what seemed like an eternity. His face softened slightly, seeing how hurt the two kids seemed to be that they couldn't hang out anymore. Bigby gave a long look at Pacifica, who seemed to be taking it extra hard. She actually seemed to value her time with Dipper.

He then turned to Wendy, who seemed a little heartbroken at the display. She looked at the fable, and frowned deeply. The wolf shared a similar look, before looking back at the young kids.

"Ugh, I can't believe I'm saying this, but forget Preston," Bigby told the kids, who seemed to perk up.

"What?" Dipper asked, surprised, while Pacifica stared wide eyed.

"You two look like you enjoy hanging out with each other. And it seems like the girl is actually...happy, around you. As long as you're ready to face the consequences, I don't see why you two can't be friends."

"So, you won't tell my dad?" The rich child asked.

"Tell him what?" Bigby asked, giving her a knowing smile. She returned the gesture.

Dipper chuckled happily. "Awesome!" He exclaimed. "I was showing Pacifica things that regular people do."

"Dude, that's so cool of you," Wendy complimented. "Hey, if you want we could all go bowling or something."

"Bowling?" Pacifica asked, a bit confused. "You guys can play bowling?"

Dipper furrowed his brow. "Well, yeah."

"I didn't know you guys had servants," she stated.

"Servants?" Wendy asked. "No, Pacifica, you play it yourself."

"Really?" She asked, incredulously. "That's...weird."

Bigby rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's weird. Anyway, I need to finish this errand your dad has me on. Stupid list..."

He excused himself, leaving the alley and the three people behind. When he was far enough away, he sighed.

Why did he do that? Just tell them it was ok to spit in the wind like that? Not only is he risking his own wellbeing, but now he's risking Dipper's.

But the kid seemed so happy. Same with Pacifica. The Big Bad Wolf still didn't think much of her, but decided to give her a chance. Hey, if Dipper liked her, there had to be something redeeming to the girl.

He put a hand through his hair. This was a messed up position he was in. He made his way to the grocery store, thoughts flooding his mind.

About an hour later, Bigby walked up to Northwest Manor, grocery bag in hand. He stood in front of the large front doors, trying to keep calm. There's no reason Bigby should freak out. He can keep a secret, and there's no way Preston should know about Dipper.

Bigby raised his arm, reading to knock on the door, when he suddenly heard a strange, metallic sound. He lowered his arm, listening closely, to hear the sound once more. He dropped his bag of groceries to the ground, as birds sang in the distance.

Bigby, not quite sure what the sound was, slowly followed the direction it came from. He eventually got to a corner of the house, as a light breeze passed by.

Not sure what to expect, he quickly turned, feeling a crunch under his shoe. He saw a woman, wearing a gardening hat, kneeling on the ground. She had a pair of rusty garden trimmers in her hands, as she snipped away at some shrubbery. The metallic sound Bigby had heard was made every time the tool snapped.

Bigby looked under his foot, to see that he had stepped on a couple of flowers. Violets, if he wasn't mistaking. He looked apologetically at the gardener.

"Sorry about the flowers," he said. "I heard you trimming, and I thought it was something else, so-"

He stopped talking when he realized that she wasn't looking at him. She continued looking at the shrub with a blank stare, as she just kept snipping at the plant.

"Uh, hello? Anyone home?" Bigby inquired, only to get no response. He crouched down slightly, looking at the woman. It was like no one was home...

"Hey!" Bigby raised his voice, as he tapped her shoulder, hoping to snap her out of her trance. Nothing.

Bigby frowned. He flicked her in the face, made loud noises, did basically anything he could to get a reaction, but the woman was unflinching.

He studied the woman, trying to find any reason for the unusual behavior. He looked closer to her gardening hat, to see a red dot on it.

"You got a stain on you?" He asked, not getting a response. For whatever reason, the dot was bugging him, so he decided to try and rub it off with his thumb. However, when he removed his digit, the dot remained.

"Stubborn thing," he commented, as he decided to take the woman's hat off to get rid of it. The woman suddenly whipped her head towards Bigby, a scowl on her face.

"Don't touch it!" She hissed, making Bigby fall back in surprise. She quickly grabbed her hat back, and placed it on top of her head. She then went back to her former demeanor, and continued to trim away.

Bigby briskly got back to his feet, on his guard for the woman. He watched carefully as she used her trimmers, weary that she'd turn them on him. However, she never did.

He brushed himself off, straightening his shirt and tie in the process. "The people this guy hires," he said, as he walked away from the scene.

He made his way back to the front door, picking up the bag of items he had left. He knocked on the door, only for it to creak open.

Raising an eyebrow at the unlocked door, Bigby slowly made his way in. "Hello?" he called, his voice echoing in the halls.

The manor was dim, as all of the fancy and expensive furnishings were covered by a light sheet of darkness. The only light source came from the burning of candles, and from the windows letting in faint rays of sunlight.

"Hello?" Bigby repeated, hoping for a response.

"Hello, Mr. Wolf."

Bigby jumped, as he turned and saw the butler. He sighed in relief. "We really need to put a bell on you," he told the servant. The butler stared blankly, his usual bored face.

"Master Northwest has ordered me to pass a message from him," the butler informed.

"Oh?"

"He said he has business to attend to. If you could wait for him in his den, that would be most appreciated."

"Any idea when he'd be back?" Bigby asked, not wanting to wait around the mansion anymore than he had to.

The butler slowly shook his head, turning around and walking away.

"Figures," Bigby muttered, as he made his way to the den. He was soaked in the orange light emanating from the lit fireplace. He threw the bag of groceries on Preston's chair, not exactly caring about the safety of its contents.

He pulled his carton of Huff N Puffs, smacking it on the back of his hand, and sticking the cigarette in his mouth.

"Freaking millionaire, making me wait," He groaned to himself, lighting his smoke. He took a quick scan of the room. He didn't like being alone in it. It felt...eerie.

"Maybe there's another ghost in here," he chuckled to himself, remembering what Dipper told him. He stopped laughing when he realized that a ghost could be a real possibility.

"Ugh, maybe I should've gone back to the Shack. I'm sure Mabel and Soos would've had something to do."

Bigby made his way out of the den. He was about to leave, when he realized something. Other than the butler, he was completely alone in the house. No one to stop him from doing whatever he wanted.

And right now, he really wanted to search the manor.

Bigby kept thinking back to how Preston found out about him. He was never specific, never outwardly saying what it was that made Bigby's presence known.

"Surveillance gear?" He questioned. No, then he wouldn't really have a need for him to spy on Pacifica. Maybe he had a network of people working for him?

That's a scary thought. Preston, with self-importance, ordering an army of thugs to break Bigby's legs. Or worse.

Bigby walked alone throughout the vast halls, curious about what the Northwests could possibly have in all of these rooms. He looked up at the walls, to see various paintings and works of art on the walls. Women on beaches, Cities at night, and abstract colors splattered on a canvas were only some of the pieces of art fixed on the sides of the hall.

Bigby stopped walking, as his eyes landed on an unusual piece of art. He furrowed his brow, staring at it while he took a drag of his cigarette.

It was a tapestry, woven with great detail. On it was what appeared to be a living, yellow triangle, with one eye and a top hat. It's arms were raised above him, as what appeared to be people below him worshipped him.

Bigby narrowed his eyes. The people had looks of fear on their faces. Fire roared in the background. The image made Bigby uneasy. The woven fabric seemed...malicious. In a hypnotizing way.

Like a moth to a flame, Bigby advanced closer to the painting, holding out a hand to touch it. He wasn't exactly sure why, and part of his body screamed at him not to touch it, but he had an urge to feel it. He wanted the fabric between his fingers.

Bigby slowly moved his arm closer to the picture, tentative. He made contact, immediately feeling a surge of energy going through his mind. He recoiled back, grunting in confusion as the sound of demented laughter filled his head, forcing him to close his eyes. He carefully opened them again, to see the tapestry once more.

His eyes widened in shock as the scene seemed to have come to life. Suddenly, his surroundings were changed, the sound of chanting and screaming filling his ears as his nostrils were assaulted with the smells of fire and burning flesh. He looked, to see the triangle, floating in the air, laughing hysterically.

And then, it was over. Bigby had returned back to the manor, falling to the ground, his smoke falling out of his mouth and rolling on the ground. Heavily panting, Bigby fearfully looked up, to see the sinister artwork back to its original condition.

"What...the hell..." Bigby breathed, slowly getting back to his feet.

He had no idea what just happened. Immediately he started trying to figure things out. He wasn't really sleeping that well, still trying to adjust to his new sleeping quarters at the Mystery Shack. He did eat something called "Mabel Cakes", which he was sure had a mixture of several different sweets and prescription medicines she found in Stan's bathroom cabinet.

But that...that was intense. Vivid. Was it real? Was Bigby losing his mind?

He stepped on his dropped cigarette, making sure it was put out. He took one more take of the art, and then quickly abandoned it.

Bigby was having a stressful time lately. That's it. That's all it was. Satisfied, he brushed the incident off, planning some kind of relaxation when he got home.