Chapter One

-Once Upon A Time-

A/N: Okay, to be honest, I'm not entirely clear on the layout of Fabletown and I'm not sure if the Snow's and Bigby's offices are IN the Woodlands or not so if some of the logistics of this are wrong, I apologize in advance.

The alleyway is narrow and crowded with garbage. Despite it being nearly midday, the cramped corridor is fairly dark, the sheriff's eyes glowing in the dim light. Bigby scowls at the foul smelling trashbags that line the walls and inhales the fumes of his cigarette a little deeper than usual, hoping to mask the stench as he strides past stacks of damp cardboard boxes and piles of filthy clothes. It's only when he's sidestepping through a heap of decomposing paper products that he realizes he's alone. Frowning, he turns and folds his arms.

"What're you doing, Flycatcher? I thought you said you knew where this thing was."

"I, I do Sheriff...just...I mean, the last time I was here..."

"I know," Bigby sighs, massaging the headache out of his brow. "Snow already told me the whole story. But you don't have to worry, Flycatcher, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Now, would you please just show me where you found it."

Flycatcher hesitates for a moment before sighing in defeat and nodding his head. "Um, yeah. Right this way, Sheriff." He leads Bigby through the alley, around three corners to where he'd been cleaning up the night before. In this area, the the pavement is clearer, the trash cleared away. Flycatcher has obviously been working hard, as usual. Although he hasn't been able to do anything for the smell...

Bigby's eyes narrow at the sight of it and he drops his cigarette, rubbing it into the ground with the toe of his shoe. The orange spray paint drips down the concrete wall in rivulets, and the sheriff scowls, his suspicious confirmed. "Well, you weren't wrong, Fly." He grumbles. "Whoever did this is definitely the same guy we've been lookin' for the past few weeks."

Bigby plants his hands on his hips and takes a step back from the vandalism. It's huge. Nearly as tall as he is. Must have taken most of a bottle of paint to do this.

"So...have you and Miss White figured anything out yet?"

"Nothing substantial." Bigby says, turning in a full circle as he scans the rooftops towering far overhead. Strange. The alley is a dead end. They shouldn't have been able to escape without doubling back past Flycatcher... "Tell me again exactly what happened."

Flycatcher sighs deeply but begins his story for probably the tenth time since he first contacted Snow about it yesterday evening. "Grimble was complaining about the alley being really packed with trash, apparently Fables have started dumping their stuff here instead of taking it to the landfull or paying for a garbage collector. Personally, I-"

"Alright, you can skip this part." Bigby says, rolling his eyes.

"Um, sorry. Anyway, I came down here last night to straighten the place up a little. I was almost done for the night when I heard footsteps behind me. Someone in dark clothes came running up to me, shoved me into the wall, grabbed a few loose coins out of my pocket and took off. Scared the life outta me..." Flycatcher explains, still looking a little shaken up at the memory.

"Which direction did they go?"

Fly shrugs. "I was standing over there." He says, pointing around the corner nearer the mouth of the alley. "He came this way and then disappeared."

Bigby nods his head and turns around again, staring at the bright orange snake adorning the concrete wall. Huge, brightly colored, and depicting a snake curling in toward it's own tail... "Thanks for the help, Flycatcher. You can go ahead and clean up the spray paint."

"You don't want to preserve the evidence?"

"Nah, I've already learned everything I can from this one. I can't track any scents here, the smell of the trash is too strong."

Flycatcher nods obediently but doesn't move as the sheriff starts to walk away. He remains in place, wringing his hands. "Sheriff?"

"Hm?"

"Whoever they are, they're not a Mundy, are they?" He asks nervously. Mundy crime in Fabletown is rare but it does happen. It's more common that Fable-committed crime, that's for sure. Especially since the Crooked Man fiasco last month.

"Don't think so." The sheriff admits. "It would take a pretty strong Fable to be able to scale this wall and get onto the rooftop, which is the only way the thief could have gotten out of here without you seeing them. A Mundy just wouldn't be able to do it."

Flycatchers pulls a rag out of his jumpsuit pocket and nods his head, eyes still downcast. "Well, I hope you catch them soon. Something doesn't feel right about this..."

"Couldn't agree with you more." Bigby mumbles, taking out his box of Huff n' Puffs. He holds it out, offering one to Fly, who shakes his head.

"No thanks, I don't smoke."

Bigby shrugs with one shoulder and then turns walk out of the alley, lighting one with a flick of his lighter. "Thanks for your help, Flycatcher. I'll let you know as soon I find something out."

"Happy to help, Sheriff."

A few seconds later, the sheriff is back out on the street. He strides down the sidewalk to the payphone on the outside of the Candlestick Diner. Picking it up, he drops in a pair of quarters and jabs out the number of the business office. It rings twice before picking up. "Snow, it's Bigby... Yeah, I just got done with him... Nah, nothing we didn't already know... Yeah, I'm heading back that way now... Ok, what's her name? Bianca... Alright, be there soon, bye."

For the first time in years, the hallway outside the business office is blissfully empty. With the Crooked Man rotting at the bottom of the Witching Well and Snow working double time to ensure every Fable gets taken care of when they need it, it's seems Fabletown is finally starting to calm down. Bigby walks down the center of the hall, smoking the last of his cigarette as he passes his own office and continues on toward Snow's. He doesn't bother knocking before pushing the heavy wooden doors open and stepping inside.

"Ah, Mr. Wolf." Snow White stands up from her seat behind Crane's old desk and smiles politely. The young woman sitting at her desk turns and smiles as well. "Thank you for joining us on such short notice." Snow rounds the desk and although her pretty face conceals it well, her stern eyes say 'be nice' as she motions to the woman. "This is Bianca. She's a prospective member of Fabletown needing a pre-amnesty interview."

The young woman-Bianca-rises from her seat and extends a hand toward him for him to kiss it, as per usual of the Homelands. "It's nice to meet you, Sheriff." She says pleasantly. Bigby shakes her hand instead and she looks confused for a moment.

"Likewise." He replies. "Snow tells me you arrived from the Homelands last week?"

"That's correct." She confirms, folding her hands modestly across her stomach.

"And you've only just now applied for membership to the town?"

"Um, well, I-"

"Sheriff." Snow cuts in, flashing an apologetic smile Bianca's way. "I know you're eager to begin the interview but perhaps you should wait until you reach your own office." She suggests carefully, nodding to the figure of Blue Beard standing a few yards away by a bookcase near the Magic Mirror. Of course Bigby smelled he was there but he hadn't given it much thought. Nor had he considered his question part of the interview. He'd just wanted to know why Bianca had waited so long to apply. Most Fables come here with membership being their foremost priority. But maybe Snow is right. The last thing Bigby needs is Blue Beard drilling him for information on the new girl if he hears anything suspicious. And everything is suspicious to Blue Beard.

"Right." He agrees. "Come on, we'll continue this in my office." He turns and heads for the door, hearing that Bianca hesitates a moment before following him. And when she does, her steps are quiet, even on the hard-stone floor. She's a timid thing. But then, that's not unusual with women fresh out of the Homelands. Hell, it took Snow a few years here before she really began to speak up for herself. Now look at her. Bossin' around the Big Bad Wolf.

Bigby waits for Bianca at the threshhold, motioning her through before reaching in to shut the door behind them. He rolls his eyes at the sound of Blue Beard immediately starting on Snow about Fabletown funds. Again. He leads Bianca down the hall toward the door marked Security Office. Once inside, he tells her to have a seat and he sits down across the desk from her. He picks up a half-smoked cigarette from the ash tray beside the sloppy stack of files laid out across the table and lights it. Relaxing into his chair and allows himself a good look at her for the first time. Chances are, she'll be moving in soon. Better get to know her face since he'll be seeing her around now. Looks mid-twenties, straight brown hair, tawny hazel eyes... "Now, back to what we were saying before." He begins. "Why did you wait a week before applying for general amnesty?"

Bianca, whose gaze is lingering curiously at the cigarette in his hand, only shrugs lamely. "To be honest, Sheriff, leavin' the Homelands was just such a...flurry." She sighs. "It all went so fast. Between findin' a temporary place to stay, getting more...befitting clothes, and getting used to this strange world in general, seven days went by very quickly."

Bigby, admittedly, pauses for a moment. It makes sense. Despite how many centuries it's been, he can still remember his first days here. He'd been among the first...and the last. The first of the Fables to defy the Adversary and join those leaving the Homelands but one of the last of those original pioneers to actually come here. Those days had been so frantic and confused. Months disappeared in the blink of an eye. Years felt like weeks. So, sure, he understands what she means. Even nowadays when things are more organized, it's still gotta be pretty hectic. Those still living in the Homelands aren't accustomed to the hustle and bustle of twenty-first century life.

So why doesn't he believe her?

Call it animal instinct...

"Still, busy or not, applying for membership is usually one of the first things newcomers do. They're usually pretty interested getting their general-amnesty." Folding his hands on the top of the desk, he asks, "Aren't you, Bianca?"

Now it's her turn to pause. A thoughtful look touching her delicate face. "To be honest, Sheriff, not in particular..."

Bigby's brow furrow at that. Not in particular?

"I mean, yes, a'course I am but...the general amnesty is for those Fables who've committed terrible deeds in the Homelands and require a clean slate in order to coexist with their fellow town members...or so I've heard." She says. "But, Mr. Wolf, I've not done anything to need such forgiveness. My priorities upon arriving here were to find a place to stay and...convince myself that I'd made the right decision in coming here. So I apologize if my delay caused any kind of inconvenience for you or Miss White...but I hope you understand my reasoning."

The sheriff stares at her for a second. Mostly because his ears are no longer used to the way Fables speak in the Homelands. The thick accent and such proper vernacular was never something he used so he barely understood it back then... But now? It takes a moment for him to digest it all. But when he does, he sighs deeply and sits back again. "Of course." He says and she allows a small smile. "I guess I'm used to people really wanting that clean slate after all the shit they've had to do in the Homelands to stay alive."

"I understand." She assures him. "I'm just one of the fortunate ones who didn't have to break any laws to get by, I suppose."

Bigby leans down, rifling through his desk drawers for a moment before producing a notepad and a pen, which he clicks open and poises over the paper. "Alright, let's move on to the actual interview."

Bianca nods and folds her hands on her lap.

"Name."

She raises an eyebrow but answers anyway. "Bianca."

"That short for anything? Got a last name? A title?"

"No. Just Bianca."

Bigby jots that down on his notepad, but writes a quick question mark beside it. He still isn't sure why he doesn't trust this... "Age?"

"Twenty-two."

"Story?"

At this Bianca hesitates. "What do you mean, Sheriff?" She asks.

"I mean what's the title of your story. The run-down, basic details." He explains.

"Ah," That uncomfortable look returns to her face and she shifts in her seat. "My story isn't terribly well-known, Sheriff." She admits. "The humans have only written it down a handful of times...I wouldn't be surprised if there's nothing at all on it in those books of Miss White's."

"All the more reason to give me as much as you can tell me." Bigby mutters and, with that, she appears to give in.

"As you wish, Sheriff." Bianca leans back in her chair and begins her story. "My story is simply called Bianca."

"Once upon a time there was a peasant girl named Bianca. She lived on the outskirts of a small village with her parents and sister, whom she loved very much. One day, her parents died from plague and she was left alone with only her sister, Samantha. They had to sell their home to afford food and clothing for the winter and went to live in the woods near the village. But Bianca soon fell ill and needed medicine. So Samantha went to a nearby city in search for work. Each day, she left their forest to work in the city and each night she returned with a little medicine for Bianca, who soon began to get better. But one night, Samantha didn't return. So Bianca gathered what little supplies she could carry and ventured to the city in search for her beloved sister. But she never found her. A terrible monster had found Samantha on her way back to the woods and it killed her and threw her body down a deep, dark ravine. Never to be found again. The peasant girl Bianca was alone forever more."

"...that was an awful story."

Bianca raises an eyebrow at Bigby and frowns.

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Now you see why the Mundy's aren't particularly fond of my tale."

"I certainly do." He admits softly. "I'm, uh, I'm sorry. About your, uh..." Before Bigby can finish, Bianca raises her hand to silence him.

"Don't apologize, Sheriff. That tale took place almost three hundred years ago and, like most of our lives, the ending the Mundies gave me didn't hold fast for very long. I wasn't 'alone forever more'. I'm here now."

"Still, that must have been hard."

A sad smile graces her lips and she nods. "It was at the time, yes. But things are different now. Better."

"I hope so." Bigby stands up, placing the notepad down on the desk, deciding he'll fill in her story once she's gone. "Thank you for your cooperation, Bianca. I'll send this down to Snow and she'll get back to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Mr. Wolf." She says, standing as well. "If you need anything else, I'm staying in the tenement building seven blocks down. The apartment number unfortunately escapes me at the moment but I believe the clerk told me it previously belonged to a Mr...Toad, was it?"

She's in Toad's old apartment? "Good to know, and good luck, Bianca."

"Goodbye for now, Mr. Wolf."

Bigby waits until she's out the door and her footsteps are out of hearing range before picking up the phone and hitting Snow's speed dial.

"Business Office. Snow White speaking."

"Snow? It's Bigby."

"Oh, how'd it go with Bianca?"

"It was...interesting. I'm gonna go run a quick errand but I need you to do something for me. Have Bufkin look up anything he can find on Bianca in the books."

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know yet...that's what I'm about to go find out."