Bigby blew smoke out through the open window, watching the cars drive by through the twilight and barely concealing a grin.

Things had been quite good with Helen, quite good indeed. There had been a lot of time together talking, and a lot of time together not talking... Remembering those times made his insides lurch pleasingly. Sadly he was supposed to be hunting through Bluebeard's halls for weapons for the next several nights since his sense of smell served him well here, with Beast in tow for safety. This was not at all where he wanted to be.

He sighed and shut the window, putting out the cigarette and heading into the hall.

Blue was chatting with Jill as she waited for Snow to free up and grinned when he saw Bigby.

"Sorry it's a lonely May Day for you," he called teasingly.

Bigby rolled his eyes but caught Jill's expression and stopped.

"What did you just say?" she asked Blue, grabbing his arm.

"Sorry it's a lonely..." Blue's face showed recognition immediately. "Oh fuck!"

"What is it?" Bigby asked.

"Jill?" Snow called, opening the door and motioning the other Fable in.

"Dammit!" Jill shouted. "I need to go in! I've been here all day!"

They both turned to look at Bigby.

"What. IS. It?!" he snapped once again.

"It's... It's the date Helen was supposed to get married. The day..."

"I stopped the wedding," Bigby finished. "Is she at the bar?"

"Probably has been making a dent in her own supply. I usually try to stay with her or make sure someone is with her," Jill gave Blue a swift glance, "but I completely forgot this year."

Bigby nodded and turned to head out.

"You're supposed to meet Beast in ten minutes," Snow objected.

He had forgotten she was there. He rounded on her and pinned her in his gaze. She shrunk a little but held his eyes.

"Surely you can see why it matters I do this right now?" he rumbled, suppressing the worry and anger that welled up in him. "I will be in first thing in the morning. We will do it then. Please, Snow."

She wanted to say no, more than anything else. But she also knew he would still leave. She would not be able to stop him from going to Helen.

"First thing in the morning," she clipped.

Bigby rushed into the Mortar and Pestle and was surprised to find Helen slouched in a bar stool, a bottle in one hand.

"Hello!" she cooed brightly at him. This tone did not fool him at all: the smell of sadness oozed from her and her face was a wet and blotchy mess.

A swift look around made it clear no one was there but her and he locked the front door behind him.

"Drink?" she asked as he took a seat beside her.

He took a pull from the bottle, surprised to taste gin.

"Not your usual," he quipped, trying to hide his concern.

"Well I finished the one bottle and I didn't want to waste our best selling one," Helen admitted.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here. Blue and Jill just told me what day it is."

He could see her crumple visibly as his words settled in.

"Yeah... It's a bad one," she replied, hiding her wrists as best she could under her hands.

"We should get you upstairs," he soothed, gathering her hands up in his. "This isn't going to help."

"Maybe not. But it dulls things."

Bigby didn't have an answer to that so he simply helped her to her apartment door.

"Don't leave," she murmured, twining her fingers with his.

"Not if you don't want me to."

He followed her up to her apartment for the first time. It was a small space but nice and covered in the same warm wood as the bar, giving everything a cozy and forresty glow. It was tidy and full of the smells that made up Helen. He took in the tidy stacks of knick-knacks and books and followed her into the kitchen.

"You should sober up. Coffee?"

"The pot's on the counter. Coffee in the freezer," she slurred, reaching back into the fridge.

"You should find a seat. I can get this."

"Here." She plunked a can down beside the coffee maker and he was surprised to realize it was Midas Gold, which he drank though she regularly made fun of it and refused it herself. The easy conclusion was that his presence up here was not unexpected. He cracked it open and took a drink before starting the coffee.

Helen managed to get herself seated on the counter across from him gracelessly, a true sign she was drunk.

"My life is bullshit," she murmured.

The coffee began to brew and Bigby moved to stand in front of her.

"How so?"

"I used to rule a kingdom. And then some asshole wanted to use me to prove himself and it all went to shit. And then a different asshole destroyed my wrists and tried to rape me. And what is my great reward for surviving all of this? A little bar, stuck with people who always remind me of what I tried to leave behind."

"You're right," Bigby soothed, placing a hand on her knee. "That is bullshit. You never deserved any of it."

She let a small smile through.

"Sometimes I wish I had never fetched you for him. Maybe you would be happier," he said.

"No... Don't wish that. Never wish that." Her voice was low and carried a new tone.

Bigby could feel the temperature in the room rise by several degrees and subconsciously he moved closer to her. They had yet to... progress in their physical relations and he was more than ready.

"I've always wondered how it would have been if I had stayed... But then you walked into my bar and I knew it was you... Ever since you showed up one night in my room, I knew it was only you."

He found himself standing between her parted legs and realized this when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Helen, you're drunk. I don't want -"

"You know this is what I want. I know you do."

Bigby could feel heat spreading across his face; that he certainly did.

"But if you need convincing..." she continued. She pulled her shirt over her head in a deft move and as much as Bigby wanted to be better than his instincts, he gave in.

The feeling of his rough hands on her soft skin drove him wild and he pulled her as close to him as he was able. She tightened the grip of her legs on his waist, pressing her hips into his. A low growl was her reward and she grinned through their kisses. The buttons on his shirt simply would not come undone with her drunk like this, but a yank sent them scattering.

That move resulted in her being lifted from the counter and pressed into the wall opposite. Helen knotted her hands in his hair, pulling in response. His lips traveled across as much of her skin as he could find and she pulled his shirt as far off of him as she was able. Helen then found herself beneath him on her couch, Bigby throwing his shirt to the floor and leaning in to kiss her. Helen ground her hips up against his in response and could feel him grow hard.

Bigby's hand worked it's way up her skirt, but something caught his senses and he stopped.

The minute he pieced it together he put her on her feet and raced for a trashcan. He was just barely in time as she sunk to her knees and vomited hard.

He knelt beside her and rubbed her back until she stopped, panting with her forehead beaded with sweat.

"You should get to the bathroom, before you're sick again."

"I can't..." she faded out, feeling too sick to move.

Bigby scooped her up in his arms, and ever so gently carried her into the bathroom.

Helen woke to the sounds of someone cooking. Thick nausea overwhelmed her and she moaned, throwing blankets over her head. As she woke up more fully, she realized she was in pajamas and that her head throbbed when she moved.

She could hear someone enter the room and set plates down on her dresser. The blankets were pulled off of her head and she winced at the light coming in from the window.

"Morning, little firebird," Bigby teased as she glowered at him. He still wasn't wearing a shirt and she was not sad about this at all.

"I feel terrible," she groaned. "What happened?"

"You got drunk, things got heated, and then you got sick."

"I do actually remember all that," she shot back.

"You never know." He put a plate of eggs and toast on her lap. "Eat."

She made a face at the food as he dug into his own plate. "And after I got sick?"

"You kept getting sick, and eventually stopped getting sick. Then I got you into some pajamas and into bed. You've been sleeping for a good amount of time."

"Where did you sleep?"

"On the floor. Didn't want to assume."

Helen shifted over in the bed and motioned for him to join her, which he did with a half smile, draping his arm around her and pulling her close. She leaned against him, listening to the beat of his heart.

"You're always welcome in my bed, Bigby."

He grinned down at her, and she sat up, starting to nibble at her toast.

"Jill's in for the morning and I'll be by tonight. I have to leave after I finish this."

"You're not staying any longer?"

"Have to get to the office first thing. It was my deal with the devil to get down here when I did yesterday."

Helen's flat, unimpressed look drew a laugh from him. "I agree. Luckily, you have a shirt of mine here already or I would be walking into the office with no buttons."

Helen blushed scarlet. "Sorry..."

Bigby grinned even more broadly. "Never apologize."

He climbed out of the bed, taking his empty plate away. He came back pulling on another ubiquitous white button down and buttoning it as he talked.

"You need to eat all of that. Sick or not you need the food."

She put the plate aside for a minute, holding his gaze. "I'm sorry things didn't work out last night."

"You don't need to apologize-"

"I'm not. I'm saying I'm sorry it didn't work out. I wish that it had."

The look he gave her made it clear that if she had not been sick he would have pounced on her then and there.

"I should be by around my usual time," he offered, his voice a bit huskier than usual.

"The bar may need to close early in that case."

He leaned down and kissed her hard. She pressed back, reaching up to hold his face.

"Till then," he murmured, before leaving.