It's a Halloween miracle! The final chapter is now here. I will be sure to continue with more TWAU/Fables after this. Thanks for the love & support the past few months. I hope it's been worth it. I'm always open for a convo here or at my tumblr over at maebmin.

The sun forced Snow's eyes open, pulling her rudely from slumber. Her golden-splashed bedroom ceiling and chandelier greeted her while she gathered her thoughts. She felt good; rested, for the first time in ages. A small sense of alarm still gripped her, however, and she quickly sat up, causing her heavy white sheets to fall off of her.

The soreness in her belly flared, and she gripped at it before looking down and examining her chest. Her blouse was still on, but was only buttoned from the top, down to the start of her ribcage. A linen bandage was wrapped neatly around her stomach, hiding the soreness that ached under it. She placed her pale hand on the cloth, grazing it over the slight texture of the mended wound beneath it.

"Snow?"

She looked up at her doorway where the thin Dr. Swineheart stood. He walked over to her bed and put his hands together in front of him before he spoke calmly, "How are you feeling?"

She sat up straighter, keeping a hand on her torso as she cleared her throat, "Fine. I feel fine. A little…sore."

Swineheart grunted in affirmation before laying a hand on her forehead and pausing. His palm was dry and cool, and Snow's eyes shut for a moment. They opened again when the seemingly satisfied doctor pulled away. Her eyes caught on the sheriff who now leaned against her threshold and peered into the room. Their eyes met, and she let them linger before she looked back at the doctor.

"You're going to be fine. Don't jump or run around for a little while, you don't want to pull out those stiches. I'll come see you tomorrow to check up on it, though. So don't worry."

She smiled and nodded, "Thank you for your…availability."

"That's what they pay me for. Now, I think the sheriff is here, waiting…I assume he wants to talk to you—"

"Right here, Doc."

Swineheart glanced back at the doorway, raising his eyebrows in surprise, "Ahh, there he is," He turned back to Snow as he pat the bed reassuringly, "Call me if you need anything, really."

Snow thanked him once more before Swineheart left, maneuvering past Bigby and showing himself out. They both listened to him leave before Bigby crossed his arms, now leaning his weight against the wall. She watched him curiously out of the corner of her eye and couldn't help but smile at the obvious nervous energy that he hid under his casual, apathetic guise.

"He sure is nicer to you than he is to me."

"Probably because he's used to stitching you up."

Bigby smiled and started to pull his carton of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. He paused and seemed to remember where he was before consequently patting them back down.

"You can't tell me he's never had to work on you after a fight."

She smirked and sighed, "It's been a long time. Old New York days. Before I knew better."

"What does that say about you now? Getting your moxie back?"

They locked eyes again, but Snow glanced away quickly and spoke in a stern tone, "It says nothing about me. Things just haven't been this bad for some time."

Bigby didn't respond, but he stepped closer to the bed. He seemed contemplative and troubled now, and she could see his determination slip with his furrowed brow and tired eyes.

Snow sat forward, tilting her chin towards the sheriff in concern, "Is your shoulder okay? Are you okay?"

He reached up and patted his shoulder slightly before shrugging, "He took a look at me late last night. It's nothing I can't handle."

She snorted and ran her hand down her belly again, feeling guilty about the fuss made over her. She hated all of this; the co-workers in her apartment, the niceties, the worried faces. It was kindness that impeded on her sense of independence and it irked her to be in this bed clutching a knife wound.

In that moment of doubt, Bigby sat down suddenly on the bed next to her, causing her weight to shift towards him.

"Are you…doing okay?"

Her eyes narrowed and she leaned away from him slightly. Her memories were still coming together, but she remembered enough to regain her professional focus, "I'm fine, there's other things we have to talk abou—"

"I don't want you to write this off. That was scary shit back there. Don't act like nothing happened."

Snow cringed at his sticky-sweet tone, and she shook her head in annoyance, "Don't talk to me like that. Don't ask me how I am and then tell me I'm lying."

"You are lying."

Snow slapped her palms flat against her sheets, pulling herself up and further away from the increasingly intrusive sheriff, "I don't recall inviting you here. In fact, the last time you were here I remember asking you quite plainly to leave, because you totally lost it."

"The last time I was here—" Bigby's voice trailed off, and his mouth promptly shut.

"I know how badly you want me to be some sort of damsel in distress, for you to comfort me while I hide under my bed, but I'm not that person. I'm the person who will get it together and get the work done while you're still fretting over this."

Her voice was strong and blunt, and when it ended, the room felt empty. Bigby froze before his shoulders slumped downward. Snow felt immediate guilt, but her anger was still hot in her face. Resigning to his loss, the sheriff stood up and returned to his place across the room. She waited for him to respond in irritation like he did last night, but he seemed determined to let it end there. That, she appreciated.

Snow cleared her throat as the professional in her returned and the gears started to turn forward in her mind. She spoke surely, "We need to figure out next steps. We can't stop because of a momentary upset."

"An upset? Is that what last night was?"

She ignored Bigby, continuing stoically, "We need to start mounting a final offensive. It's almost over. They're desperate," Her murmuring continued quietly as she started to talk more to herself than the sheriff.

"Snow, we don't have to get caught up in it. But we need to at least talk about this. I still don't have any idea about what happened."

She glared at his interruption, but she bit her tongue before snapping at him. Swinging her legs over the bed, Snow put her weight on her arms as she let her bare feet touch the cold floor.

Bigby was already shaking his head when he sighed, "Come on, don't do this. You're not going to the office today."

Her back straightened and she winced as the bandage tightened around her waist. With a small pop, her neck cracked and she smiled before responding slyly, "If I expect you in the office every day, I'm sure as hell going to hold the same standards to myself."

Bigby put both of his hands in the air in surrender, but he took another step forward to stand in front of Snow's dangling feet. "Before you get going and head to the office and start making a master plan, I need you to just fill me in, just real fast."

Snow stared up at Bigby and his ponderous stance, and she reluctantly relaxed her arms and shifted her weight back down to the bed. Her mind filled with a mix of memories and emotions. She sat quietly as she shifted through and consolidated them, gathering herself into a nearly meditative state of contemplation. She could feel Bigby's exhausted eyes on her, but they were patient with her process. He had to have been used to it by now; Snow only ever spoke carefully.

"I think it was largely a retaliatory effort in response to what I did to Greenleaf's tree—"

"That seemed pretty small time, didn't it?"

"It wasn't that it was vital to their operation or anything. I guess they just didn't appreciate the message. We've already figured out how controlling they are of the black market magic. They need more. They'll always need more supplies when it comes to magic. They want a decent connection between the thirteenth floor and its resources. It's very simple," She stopped and gave a small laugh before continuing, "I guess that's reassuring. If they needed to torture me for information about the thirteenth floor, I guess that means the entire business office isn't completely corrupt. Which is what I was sure of."

"I guess the witches get paid enough to be above simple bribery."

Snow snorted, "I'm not sure anyone is paid enough for that."

"So…what'd you give them?"

Snow's smile faded and she glanced away from Bigby's wide eyes before she spoke with a tight, incredulous voice, "I didn't give them anything. This isn't my first time being strapped to a chair."

Bigby narrowed his gaze at Snow before tilting his head quizzically, "I know you gave them something, Mary let us off too easily."

"I fed them old leads, useless information. I'm sure they knew it was shit too. It wasn't about information, Bigby. It was about catching us off guard and making us panic. Something's up. They're getting nervous, because we're close. But this means there's no more mistakes. Right now, it's whoever blinks first. We don't have time to lose, Bigby."

He crossed his arms and leaned back on his feet, seemingly thoughtful. She watched him intently, hoping to gauge her sheriff's mood.

"How'd you get to be so good, Snow? Who taught you to stand interrogation like that?"

She smirked and sat up straight, "Nobody taught me. Who taught you to be the incomparable detective? We're born public servants. Our talents serve the community and that's makes us the most loyal. Which is why we make up the only two honest people left in Fabletown. We can only trust each other now. But we're by far the most capable team."

His wide hands stuffed themselves into his pockets as he watched Snow amusedly. "That's a stirring speech. Have you been saving that for a while?"

Snow scoffed and reached up in the air, beckoning Bigby for help standing up, "Only since that night you told me about Crane."

His rough hand grasped Snow's and he helped pull her up straight. Snow winced momentarily but she quickly regained her composure before taking a deep, satisfied breath.

"Alright. It's time to get to work."

It was days later, and the few hours of sleep, endless cups of coffee, and anxious planning and waiting had resulted in an exhilarated Snow White. Despite her constant lip-biting and panicking, she felt a rush that she had seldom experienced before; a rush of power and excitement at the prospect of getting the job done. All this time, since the inception of Fabletown, she had been at the disposal of other people. Her originality and her hard work had constantly been funneled into recognition for the people around her. But now it was hers.

Interrupting her wallow in self-indulgence, Snow turned to the sheriff who stood next to her. Surprisingly, his voice was calm as he spoke to the small crowd that had gathered at the Witching Well to argue and blame each other during the trial of the Crooked Man. His descent into the well minutes ago had momentarily filled her with unease, but it had turned quickly into satisfaction. Not all Fables were meant to be a part of this community, and as the quiet conversations between the remaining citizens started to consider the new Fabletown, Snow felt reassured.

She stood back, letting the sheriff make some amends and listen to some final thoughts. Everyone seemed to have something to say to each other in light of the situation, and she knew it was needed. The room had been heated earlier, but…somehow, they had handled it well, and an air of geniality returned that Snow hadn't felt for quite some time.

Snow straightened when Beauty's sheepish frame came closer to her. She spoke quietly, "Quite a first week as Deputy Mayor, huh, Snow?"

Snow smirked as she crossed her arms, thinking indulgently of all the things she could say before politely settling on, "I just appreciate everyone's help and understanding along the way."

"I could never do it. I admire you for it," Beauty gave a small smile before turning back to Beast and joining in with the jovial conversation Bigby and him seemed to be having.

Snow relaxed her shoulders and flattened her jacket with her palms. She watched Bigby listen and talk confidently despite his weary eyes and she felt herself beam with pride. The bandages that peeked from his shirt and the small cuts along his cheek told a very different tale from the earnest sound of his voice as he spoke now. His growth had been admirable and his handle on the situation had not faltered when she needed him the most. He seemed to feel her eyes on him and looked up, catching her gaze. They shared the brief glance for a few moments before he smiled cheekily and looked back at Beast. Snow smiled and looked back to the well.

It wasn't long before the crowd dissipated, and Snow finally walked the stragglers back up to the lobby of The Woodlands. She waved lastly to a bittersweet Holly before turning back to the elevator. She meant to head back up to the business office and take advantage of the quiet for once, calling for the elevator and cracking her neck serenely.

"Snow! Hey!"

She turned lazily, catching the sheriff's eyes again as he bounded towards her, his darkened eyes somehow still energetic.

"Don't tell me you're heading up to the office."

She rolled her eyes, "There's work to be done, Sheriff. A lot of things have been ignored the past few weeks. Not that you would know that."

He shook his head amusedly, "Come on, let's go get a drink or something. Don't you want to celebrate?"

"What? Celebrate a return to normalcy?"

"Celebrate your promotion, finally. I'm buying. Come on."

She laughed at his excitement, but shook her head despite of it, "Why don't you go celebrate your job well done? I've got an office to take care of."

"Snow…" His mouth opened, but he snapped it shut and seemed to bite his tongue, "…Never mind, it's fine. Don't work too hard, okay?" His gave a warm smile, the one that had been so oddly frequent lately, and stepped back from the elevator. His eyes were calling her name, but Snow stood her ground.

She grinned as the elevator door opened behind her. She stepped in and waved, "Good night, Sheriff. Be careful out there."

Bigby forced a smile and shoved his hands in his pockets before turning away as the doors closed. Snow took a deep breath and tried to shake away the fluttering in her stomach. No distractions.

Moments later, Snow was unlocking the business office door. The immense room was quiet and empty. She stood behind her new desk and let her fingertips graze the surface before pulling the large leather chair back for her. Folders and paperwork littered it, and the bronze name plate was nearly falling off the edge due to the clutter. Snow centered it carefully and piled the paperwork neatly to her left side.

She settled down into the chair and placed her palms flat against the wood and pulled herself closer. With fountain pen in her hand, she pulled the top folder down from the stack next to her. It was time to walk the walk.

Weeks passed by, and Fabletown was slowly gaining a new rhythm. Snow refused to be a disappointment to the people who had put their faith in her, and she tried her hardest to reconnect with alienated citizens. It had already become apparent, however, that being beloved was a job reserved for figureheads, and not even the deputy mayor was shielded from heated disputes that somehow got dragged into her office every morning. No matter how uninvolved she was, there was always some finger-pointing towards her. There was no way to prepare for the line outside of her door every day, and as she waited for her new assistant to arrive, Snow was still picking up phone calls with one hand and signing off on expenditure requests with the other.

But being able to leave the Woodlands and receive some warm smiles instead of cold glances, being able to close her apartment door and feel like work would probably not be traveling back with her, being able to feel like a respected member of the community, was all exhilarating.

She pondered all this as she stood by her living room window a short while after getting home one night, watching summer rain stream down the pane. The streetlamps below her were just starting to turn on and glimmer in the evening dark. Gin in her hand, Snow swayed softly to the jazz record she had put on, and her eyes closed as a small grin spread across her face. Reaching up to her bun, she tugged at her hair tie and let her raven locks fall to her shoulders. Her free hand tousled them before she bent over and pulled off her navy heels haphazardly, tossing them to the side.

A loud, heavy knock sounded behind her, making her stand straight up in surprise. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. Work could never be that far away.

Resisting the urge to ignore it and continue her night, Snow pulled the door open forcefully. She hadn't been sure who to expect, but her eyes widened at the sight of Bigby. His tan trench coat had soaked shoulders, and his hair strung to his face. Before they could exchange greetings, Bigby reached forward and offered a thin folder towards Snow.

"Hey. I thought you might want to sign off on these before you headed off to the farm."

She looked at the folder before looking up at the sheriff amusedly, "Hello to you, too."

His eyes gave a small roll and he shook his head, "Hi. I'm sorry. I just wanted to get this to you before it was too late tonight."

She nodded, and with a single hand she beckoned him inside. His eyebrows rose in surprise before he followed her through the threshold.

"Why're you wet? Just come from outside?" Snow walked to her coffee table and grabbed a pen, placing it on her ear before cracking open the case file to skim over.

Bigby crumpled his hands in the pockets of his coat as he cautiously came closer, "Yeah…I've been running around all day. I just came in to get that for you before you left tomorrow morning."

Her eyes rose from the report curiously, "Anything I should know about?"

He laughed and shook his head, "No, it's the usual bullshit. Don't worry about it."

That reassured Snow to an extent, and she went back to going over his paperwork. Eventually she bent over and signed off on it. Closing the folder and handing it back to Bigby, Snow added, "Thanks for remembering that. All of that would've been overdue if we waited until next week. I'm already behind enough on paperwork."

Bigby shrugged, but kept his kind expression, "Well, I try not to be that much of a burden on you."

Snow shook her head while laughing. They shared a brief moment of camaraderie before the room became quiet, with only the soft music playing to support them.

Bigby swallowed and leaned back on his feet nervously, "It's been a while. Are you doing okay?"

She grinned at his concern, placing her hands on her hips in thought, "I'm fine, just busy. Coordinating all these new programs, making amends…. I hardly have any alone time right now."

The sheriff frowned and motioned towards her door, "Ahh, I'm sorry. I should head back."

"Bigby, come on. You're fine."

He relaxed, but kept a skeptical gaze. They shared silence once more, and Snow nearly blushed at Bigby's determination to make the conversation awkward.

"Your hair's down."

Oh my god. "I don't keep it up all day, you know."

"It looks good."

It was Snow's turn to roll her eyes, and she laughed as she spoke, "I like it up. But thank you. Maybe I'll try it out at work one day."

Bigby took a few steps closer towards her window, and peered down to the street as she had earlier.

"This town. Some days I can't stand it. But there's something about it. Something in the air."

She came nearer, watching the traffic pass by on the street below, "It's home."

He gave a small laugh, "Is it now? I don't know," His eyes seemed far away, and after thinking for a while, he spoke quietly, "I guess it's as close as I'm going to get for a while."

Snow bit her lip, trying to talk herself out of her inclinations and the gin, before she gave up and reached out to grab Bigby's hand. Her thin fingers wrapped around his calloused palm and she squeezed it tightly. She could feel his surprised eyes on her, but she kept her gaze out the window.

They were quiet for a long time, before Bigby sighed and leaned nearer to the window, "What is this, Snow. You've been avoiding me for weeks. What's up now?"

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him guiltily. Her brow furrowed, and she nearly let herself deny it, but she stopped herself. She owed him more than that.

"What do you mean, 'what's up now'?"

He closed his eyes and let his forehead touch the pane, "I mean, why are you letting me in now. You always have a reason. What is it?"

Snow's stomach sank and her mouth moved, but no words came.

"I'm not attacking you, I'm just wondering," His voice was neutral and the yellow light in his eyes glimmered.

"I didn't…I don't know," Snow pulled her hand away and took a step back, "I'm sorry. I've been…unprofessional."

Bigby snorted and finally turned to look at her, still smirking, "Snow, who are you with right now? 'Unprofessional', really?"

His dismissive words did nothing to qualm Snow's red face. Her grip on herself was slipping in her introspection, and she felt faint panic. It must have shown on her expression, because Bigby's eyes softened with guilt.

"Hey, hey, hey, come on now. It's okay." Bigby turned to her abruptly, grabbing her hand once more. They were closer now, and Snow's instinct to pull away further was stopped by the kindness in his eyes.

"All I've ever wanted was for you to just talk to me. What's going on in there?"

Snow's face was full of desperation and before she could stop herself, her small voice answered, "I don't know, damn it," She considered it, before she finally admitted, "I'm afraid."

"…Of me?"

"No…well, I don't know. I'm afraid of this," She waved her hand briefly between them, "Look, I can't allow this beyond what happens on my terms."

Bigby's face contorted in confusion, "It's always been on your terms. That's why I'm asking, why now? I've hardly seen you in weeks."

"I know that, Bigby, but that isn't fair to you. I know this isn't fair. But I need so much control to feel safe. I need so much and I…I can give so little." Her voice trailed off, and her lips pouted in shame. She sighed and her voice nearly cracked as she accepted the truth, "I've needed your help so much lately, and you give it without hesitation. But I hate needing anything from anyone."

Her heavy words hung between them, and Bigby considered his words carefully. His voice was quiet when he finally responded, "Snow, you don't have to keep yourself so bulletproof…I'd never hurt you."

She immediately seethed and stepped back from him, "Don't you dare say that, don't ever say that again."

Bigby's face broke into puzzlement and regret, and she could see his struggle for words, "I'm…I'm sorry. Look, Snow…" His hand reached hesitantly for her cheek, and she watched him suspiciously before she obliged. They stared into each other, and Bigby spoke carefully, "You don't owe me anything for being there for you. We're friends," He paused and lowered his voice as he leaned closer, "You and me, sometimes we're just not attuned to each other. Things get complicated and hard but…where it counts, we're in sync, together. I don't know what that means, but it's okay to be complicated. It's okay to be afraid. It's okay to want control."

He hesitated for a moment, but he went ahead and placed his hand on her jacket's waist. She stiffened but soon relaxed, and Bigby held her palm up to their sides. It wasn't until he started swaying back and forth, ever so slightly, that she realized he was attempting to dance with her.

"What?"

Snow looked up innocently, "What?"

"Why are you smiling like that?"

She looked down and away, "It's nothing, it's nothing."

"Look, I don't know that much, okay? But we can go slow. This is nice, isn't it?"

Snow grinned, and she got closer to the sheriff. His warmth was inviting, and with her wild hair and bare feet, Snow finally rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

He leaned down and kissed her firmly on the top of her head.

"We live a long time. It's okay to take a while to figure things out."

She considered his words before her voice spoke faintly, "I didn't mean to make this so complicated. I didn't mean to bring you into all of the uncertainty in my life."

He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his mouth to her ear, "I don't mind it as long as I'm in your life."

They swayed for a very long time in the dim light, listening to piano and the murmur of the other lives in the Woodlands. There was so much noise around them, so many disruptions and so much history to overcome. It was nearly overwhelming, but Snow buried her face in his broad chest, like she had for the first time weeks ago, and escaped from the commotion.

Eventually, there came a time where the sheriff gave her a final, quick peck on her forehead before he pulled away from her slowly.

Snow crossed her arms and watched as he quickly grabbed his folder from her coffee table. Walking to the door, he turned to her and gave a small wave, "I'll hold down the fort for you until you get back, alright?"

She gave a small smile and waved back, "Thank you, Bigby."

"Be careful."

Snow nodded and ran a hand through her messy hair, "You know I always am."

He grasped the doorknob and turned back, giving Snow a teasing wink before he pulled the heavy door open and left her apartment.

Fin.