A/N: Stronger Language than usual. You've been warned.

It was a pretty busy day at the bowling alley, as Dipper, Wendy, and Pacifica were in the middle of a game. Right now, Wendy was winning by a large margin, with Dipper in second place, and Pacifica in dead last.

"Dude, this is really fun," Wendy stated, as she sat with the two younger kids at the waiting bench at their lane.

"Fun for you!" Dipper teased, a smile on his face, as he was eating some nachos. He then turned to Pacifica, and frowned when he saw the dour expression on her face. "What's wrong?" he asked.

The heiress huffed. "This game is stupid," she quietly whined, not looking at Dipper.

The boy gave a playful smile. "You're not just saying that cause you're losing, are you?"

Pacifica blushed slightly, smacking Dipper hard in the arm. "Shut up!"

Wendy laughed. "Pacifica, it's ok. We're just having fun, no need to take everything so seriously."

"But people are laughing at me!" Pacifica exclaimed. Dipper and Wendy looked around, to see that nobody was actually staring at them.

"Uh, no they're not," Dipper stated. Pacifica was about to argue, but she then looked around, to see that they were telling the truth.

"Oh," she uttered, a bit surprised. "I could've sworn..."

"Hey, don't worry," Dipper told her, "it's just a friendly game, and it's the first time you've really played."

"Let the record show that I'm winning," Wendy interrupted.

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Anyway," he continued, "no one's judging you."

Pacifica seemed a little apprehensive, before getting a playful smile on her face. "I bet I can beat you," she stated.

"Oh, it's on!" Dipper accepted the challenge, taking one last bite of nachos as the two then went back to the pins.

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock

Bigby had been waiting in the den for what seemed like hours, the sound of a clock ringing in his ears. He was sitting in Preston's chair, hunched over, illuminated by the fireplace.

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock

He was impatient and stressed. He just wanted to get his money, and be done with this whole stupid thing. He isn't even sure why he accepted the job in the first place. Is he really that cold that he would be fine with spying on a child just for a deluded man's cash? The Northwests are terrible people. Why Bigby was ok with keeping one from growing as a person is beyond him.

Tick, Tock, Tick, Tock

He was about five seconds away from finding that clock and breaking it in half. He did not want to be in this damn building anymore. He could feel the negative desire that filled this place. Years and years of underhanded tactics and back-alley deals had supported the foundation of the manor, he knew it. He just couldn't find the evidence.

And that tapestry.

No, not going to think about it. It's just his mind playing tricks on him. He just needs some relaxation.

"Sir?"

Bigby looked up, to see the butler, bored as ever, staring at him from the doorway.

"What is it?" Bigby asked, annoyed.

"I have just received a phone call from Master Northwest. He said that he will be arriving shortly."

"Real helpful, thanks," Bigby growled, not appreciating the update. As the butler began to turn away, Bigby caught sight of something.

"Wait," Bigby called, his voice demanding. The butler stopped in place, before turning back to the fable.

"Yes, sir?" He droned. Bigby stood up, his face stoic, and walked up to the butler. Bigby studied the servant's face for a moment, not seeing any emotion.

"You have something on your collar," he remarked.

"Oh?" The butler muttered, uncaring. Bigby, gently, grabbed the corner of the man's collar, and flipped it up, revealing a mark.

A red dot, right on the fabric. A red dot that looked exactly like the one on the gardener's hat.

"What is...?" Bigby muttered to himself, as the butler raised an eyebrow. The wolf locked eyes with the servant, before ripping the fabric, and the dot, off.

The butler's expression suddenly filled with emotion. Eyes wide, almost feral, the butler moved quickly at Bigby, reaching for the torn piece of cloth. The two struggled, pushing them farther into the room.

Bigby kept the butler at arm's length, as the man frantically tried swiping at him. "Give it back!" He howled. "Give it back!"

"What is this!?" Bigby interrogated. "What exactly is this dot!?"

"You don't understand! I-" The butler suddenly took a sharp intake of breath, falling off of Bigby. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he collapsed to the floor.

Stunned, Bigby stared at the man, unmoving on the floor. The sheriff then looked at the fabric in his hand, studying the dot.

"Hello, Wolf," a distinguished voice entered the room. Bigby looked up, to see his employer in the room.

"Preston, what is this!?" Bigby demanded, holding out the piece of cloth to show to the millionaire.

"What, that?" Preston asked, pointing at that dot. "It's just a little symbol I have all of my employees wear."

The sheriff wasn't convinced. "Just a symbol!?" He repeated, incredulous. "Look at what it did to your butler!" He pointed at the unconscious man on the ground.

"Oh, Jerry has always been a bit of a drama queen, now how about we just leave this bit of business behind us, and see those groceries you got."

Bigby had forgotten about the bag of groceries he had gotten. Bigby had a hard stare fixed on Preston. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Nevertheless, Bigby motioned towards the bag near the chair, inviting the Northwest to grab it.

Preston raised an eyebrow. "You don't really expect me to get it myself, do you dog?"

Bigby growled. "Why exactly did you want that stuff anyway?"

Preston shrugged. "It's just something I have a need for."

"You just need salt and D batteries? Or copper wire?" Bigby questioned. "You aren't eccentric, you're up to something!"

"I'm afraid I'm not sure what you mean."

Bigby looked down at the man on the floor. He then shifted his gaze back to the red dot. He remembered the gardener and the red dot on her hat. How she acted the same way the butler did when they were on, and how they reacted similarly when taken off. They were dull, almost lifeless.

Almost hypnotized.

Bigby's eyes widened, as he figured it out. "You've been brainwashing your employees!" Bigby stated, disgust on his face.

Preston gave a dry smile. "You really are a brilliant detective. No one else in this two-bit town would have ever figured it out."

"Why?" Bigby commanded, wanting an explanation.

"After the party, some of the employees started acting up," Preston started. "Some quit, others were giving backtalk. Overall, it was just a giant mess. It seemed that they just couldn't respect those superior to them. So, we planted those mind control dots on their uniforms."

"You're controlling them so they like you?" Bigby could hardly believe it. He had never heard of something so crazy.

"We can't afford to lose our image," Preston justified, echoing the conversation the two had the other day. Preston walked closer to Bigby, stepping over the butler in the process. "Is that such a crime?"

"You're bending people's wills!" Bigby yelled. "Turning them into...into slaves!"

"We're still treating them the same, just now they can't make any of those snide comments they were getting so fond of."

Bigby remained silent, as he stared at the man with utter contempt. He was delusional.

"You know, it's a shame. I would've made one for you. Kept you under my permanent employ. You're a good worker, and you'd be a very obedient dog, Mr. Wolf."

"Call me dog one more time, and I'll rip you apart," Bigby warned.

Preston frowned a the outburst. "Such a bad temper. That would've been the first thing to go." He sighed. "I wonder what to do with the rest of these ingredients. They were going to be made into the mind control dot for you, but now...hmm." He rubbed his chin. "Pacifica is still acting up..." he thought aloud.

Bigby's eyes widened, and his lips curled back into a snarl. He punched Preston hard, knocking him back and making him trip over the butler.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Bigby exclaimed, disgusted as Preston tried to crawl away from the wolf.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Preston cried, shocked at Bigby's actions. Bigby quickly walked up to him, and forcefully grabbed the millionaire by the collar.

"She's a fucking kid!" Bigby all but roared, shaking the man slightly. "She's your kid!" Bigby punched Preston again, making the man whimper in pain, a welt growing on his face. Bigby dragged the man to his feet, before throwing another haymaker, connecting and breaking Preston's nose in the process, sending the man stumbling towards one of the bookshelves.

Blood started dripping down the aristocrat's face, bruises littering his cheeks. Bigby charged into the man, pinning him against the bookshelf, knocking some of the literature off and having it land on the floor. Bigby had his arm right on Preston's throat, making him gasp for air.

"I don't care who you are, or who you think you are! She's a little girl!" He growled, showing his teeth to the terrified man. Bigby was doing everything he could to not let the wolf out, and everything he could to not outright murder Preston.

"Please..." the rich man begged.

"You want to change your daughter into some unfeeling monster!" The fable scolded. "When she's trying to make herself better! Better than the rest of your shitty family!"

Bigby violently shoved Preston back into the shelf, knocking over more books, and making Preston fall to the floor. Bigby fumed, trying to calm himself ever so slightly, as he looked down at the roughed up millionaire.

Bigby's rage had disappeared from his face, even though it was still prominent on the inside. "Listen to me carefully," he growled. "I have eyes and ears on you. If you do anything to Pacifica, I will find out. And I will come here, and make what I just did look like a gentle message. Got me?"

Preston stared up at the fable in complete fear, nodding his head. Bigby remained quiet, as he turned around and started to walk away. Before he left the den, he took out a cigarette, threw it in his mouth, and lit it.

"Bigby..."

The wolf slowly turned in distain to look at Preston, who was leaning against the shelf.

"You're nothing but a brute. A peasant. You'll never be anything more than that," he spat out, angry.

Bigby turned away. "I wouldn't have it any other way," he stated, as he left the den.

He walked down the main corridor, as he went out the front door. As he slammed the door behind him, he didn't notice the tapestry from earlier, looming over the hall.

"SEE YOU SOON, WOLF."

"I can't believe you beat me..."

Dipper pouted as he, Pacifica, and Wendy walked towards the Mystery Shack. Pacifica had a satisfied look on her face, and Wendy just absentmindedly smirked. The sun was slowly setting in the distance.

"Told you I'd beat you," Pacifica bragged.

"You only won by 3 pins!" Dipper argued.

"A win is a win. And I always win," she said, pleased with herself. She was really enjoying hanging out with Dipper, and learning how normal people live.

But that doesn't mean she wasn't going to tease Dipper to Kingdom Come.

"Ugh, why do I bother?" Dipper sighed. Wendy, only hearing bits and pieces of the conversation, laughed slightly.

"I still beat both of you," Wendy reminded, with a smile.

"Only by...123..." Dipper said, realizing that it's pointless to argue.

"That's right," Wendy confirmed. The three eventually reached the Mystery Shack, stopping in front of it. They then all faced each other.

"Well, today was fun," Wendy stated, earning nods of agreement from the other kids. "But it's getting late, and we should probably all go home for the night."

Pacifica frowned. "Really? But..." She trailed off, sad.

Dipper was concerned, confused about why Pacifica seemed upset. Then it hit him. She didn't want to go back home.

"Hey, we can hang out tomorrow," Dipper told her, making her perk up slightly.

"Promise?"

"Promise," Dipper said, with a smile. Pacifica gave a small smile, before her lips curled into a devious position.

"Always wanting to be with the cool kids," she teased. "Loser."

Knowing she didn't mean it, the boy laughed. "See ya tomorrow."

"Bye," Pacifica stated, as she and Wendy walked away. Dipper waved, before turning back to the shack.

He saw a wide eyed Mabel staring at him, mouth agape.

"Uh-oh," Dipper muttered, as Mabel squealed loudly, ever the fangirl.

"Oh my gosh, she likes you! You like her! Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh!" Mabel cheered, jumping up and down excitedly.

"Mabel, calm down, we're only friends."

"That's how it starts!" Mabel exclaimed, as Dipper got onto the porch with his sister. "When did this start? Why did you keep it a secret? Come on Dipper, tell me!"

"Alright, calm down," Dipper implored. "I'll tell you everything. Just don't freak out like that anymore."

The two opened the screen door, slowly entering their summer home.

"Dipper and Pacifica, sitting in a tree-"

"Mabel!"

It was a clear night, as Bigby slowly trudged his way back to the Mystery Shack. He wasn't sure how late it was, or how long he was gone. After the incident at Northwest Manor, he needed to calm down.

Which he did. Somehow.

A Huff N Puff in his mouth, he shifted the lit cigarette back and forth in his teeth. He hated today. He really did.

He finally made his way to the Mystery Shack, and found himself on the porch. He sighed, dropping his smoke and crushing it under his foot. He then carefully opened the door so he didn't wake up the rest of the house. Now in the kitchen, he slowly closed the door behind him, the door creaking in the process.

The lights in the kitchen were on, as Grunkle Stan, in his relaxed attire, was on a chair at the table, facing the fable. "Hey Wolfy," he greeted dryly.

"Stan?" Bigby asked, puzzled. "What are you still doing up?"

"Waiting for you," he answered, gently. He motioned Bigby to sit across from him. After a moment's hesitation, Bigby complied, sitting on the chair, facing the direction that Stan was.

The Grunkle gave him a hard look, making Bigby feel uneasy. "What's wrong?" Bigby inquired.

"You got blood on your shirt," Stan bluntly stated. Bigby looked down, to see his dress shirt stained with splatters of crimson.

"Oh," was all Bigby could say, as he found some kind of drink on the table, and an empty glass. Bigby poured himself some, earning no protest from the old man.

"Is it yours?" Stan asked.

"Is what mine?"

"The blood."

Bigby paused. "No," he told him, taking a sip of the drink. Apple cider, he discovered.

Mr. Mystery sighed. "Is it anyone I should worry about?"

"No."

"Is it anyone you should worry about?"

"Probably," he admitted, taking another sip. The two fell in silence for a moment, simmering in there thoughts. Finally, Bigby spoke. "I'm sorry."

Stan looked at the wolf. "For what?"

"For ditching the shack when you needed me to work," Bigby stated. "And for getting fired from my other job. I'm not going to be able to pay you anymore."

Stan looked down for a moment, before looking away. "That's alright. You don't have to work."

Bigby was surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. The only reason I wanted you to work was to see if you were actually grateful. That you weren't just taking us for granted, ya know?"

Bigby slowly nodded, considering his words. He took another drink of his beverage. "How expired is this Apple Cider?"

"I still had brown hair when I bought it,"

"Jeez," Bigby uttered, making the two chuckle slightly.

Stan exhaled lightly. "You know Bigby, I actually like you," he confessed. "You saved Dipper and Mabel from that fire thing, you tried paying me for your room, and you don't shed hair everywhere. You're not bad."

Bigby was slightly stunned. "Thanks, sir."

"'Sir', ha!" Stan exclaimed. "You sound like a cop."

"Well, technically-"

"Don't make me hate you, Wolfy," Stan interrupted, making Bigby smirk. Stan looked at the fable, smirking as well, before looking away. However, his smile fell into a frown. "Listen Wolfy," he started.

Bigby looked at him, noticing the seriousness in his tone.

"You seem ok, but we need to get something straight. The kids, they're my family. In fact, they're probably the only family I have that doesn't hate me. My father hates me, my mother hates me, my-" he stopped for a second, before continuing. "My sister hates me. Dipper and Mabel though, they don't hate me. They love me. That means everything to me."

Bigby looked at the man, surprised at how sincere he was being.

"I want to protect them. Keep them safe. And then here you come. The Big Bad Wolf. A fairytale come to life. I ain't even going to question it, because after living in this town for so many years, you start to figure out that this kinda stuff is real. I like you Bigby. But in those stories, you were a real jerk. A dangerous, dangerous jerk."

Bigby couldn't help but feel guilty. He tried so hard not to let his primal instincts out, but days like this show him just how much harder he had to work.

"I just want my niece and nephew to be safe. And then you come in," he looked at the wolf. "With blood on your shirt, and I'm not sure what to think. So I need you to promise me something."

"Yes?" Bigby asked, listening carefully.

"Protect those kids from any trouble that might follow you. Stay on the straight and narrow, and make sure those kids are safe. I know I couldn't stop ya if you went berserk, so I need you to promise me that. Can you do that? Can you promise me?"

Bigby looked at the man, locking his hard gaze with one of his own. He could see the fear in Stan's eyes, just at the idea of his family getting hurt. It wasn't fear of Bigby, just what he could do, and what it could mean to the man's family. Bigby respected that more than anything.

"I'll do whatever I can to protect them," Bigby promised, easing the old man. With some cracking bones, he stood up, and started to walk away.

"Try to get some sleep, kid," he told him, "and don't drink all the cider. I'm probably going to need that someday."

Bigby let out a dry laugh, as Stan left him alone. He took another stiff drink of cider, as he let the events of the day fly off him.

He was going to protect this family. He owes them that much.

Preston leaned over his fireplace, focused on the crackling flames. Dried blood was on his face, and the bruises from Bigby were still prominent on his face. The rich man was scolding at the memory of the beating.

"Sir?" His 'loyal' butler asked, in the doorway, with the red dot back on his neck. "Is there anything I can do?" He dully asked.

"Did you put away the disinfectant?" Preston questioned, wanting to know the butler had placed the first aid supplies back where they belonged.

"Yes."

"Then I'm fine."

The butler left from the doorway. Preston then heard the front door open, and some footsteps walking past the room he was in.

"Daddy, I'm home!" Pacifica called, not bothering to stop in the room, or to actually look at her father.

"Welcome back, sweety." He dryly greeted, still staring at the fire. He thought about Bigby's words, and his threat. The millionaire has been threatened plenty of times. But this was the first time he was convinced that the person could follow through.

His grip on the stone lining of the fireplace tightened. "I won't let her ruin this family," he said to himself. "And I won't let him stop me."

He then turned from the fireplace, and walked towards a bookshelf. He grabbed a red book, and pulled it, having the entire bookshelf rise from the ground, leading to a flight of stairs that was directed downward.

Preston walked down the cracked, stone steps, as walls became more and more littered with dust and cobwebs. Finally, he reached a dark room, only lighted by candlelight. He flipped a switch on the room, making the room glow grimly with the fluorescent lights of electricity flowing from rusty metal conductors, and various other science projects. He had jars with human hands, feet, hair, and other assorted body parts scattered throughout various wooden tables and stands.

He walked over to a large computer, that looked absolutely ancient, yet impressive. He quickly started typing, working on his next plan.

"Do you think you can scare me, Dog?" The aristocrat muttered to himself, obsessed. "I'll get you. I will find all your weaknesses, and watch as you suffer. Then when you're gone, my daughter will be back to her obedient self, and the Northwest name will remain strong."

He started laughing manically, big plans going through his head.

/THE END/