Castles In the Sky

Chapter One

If her soft fingers would just reach for his face once, he would be happy. If those red, gentle lips uttered his name for merely a single moment, he would be ecstatic. If her fair face would become red at his compliment, he would be overjoyed.

If.

Not when.

If.

He knew in his heart and soul that daydreaming would get him nowhere. It would only bring him high into the clouds and suddenly release him, letting him fall on the hard floor of reality.

His daydreams were merely fantasies; in no way, shape, or form would they ever become true. They would simply remain castles in the sky.

The sheriff took a deep breath, allowing the stank air of his apartment to fill his nostrils. Bottles of beer and cigars lay all over the floor of his bedroom. He didn't mind, though. He could care less about the condition of his small apartment. For the sheriff, this apartment was simply a place to sleep in at night. He could never consider it his home.

"You're finally up," Colin's voice rang from the living room. "At this rate, I assumed you weren't going to get up until two in the afternoon."

"Shut up, Colin," Bigby replied in a gruff voice as he forced himself out of his old bed. "What time is it?"

"Ten in the morning. You're running late and I bet you that shrew-"

"She's not a shrew."

"Mhm. Whatever. Anyway, she's going to give you an earful when you get there."

Bigby merely nodded as he pulled his pants on, followed by his shirt and his tie and his vest.

"Hey, Colin?" he asked as he realized his dark coat was missing.

"What is it?"

"Have you seen my coat?"

There was a moment of silence.

"No," Colin finally replied, "I haven't."

"Just fuckin' great..." Bigby ran his fingers through his thick, brown mane and walked out of the room, picking up a cigar and a match, lighting it quickly. "I gotta go...don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."

"Aye, aye captain...hey, Bigby! You should probably shave!" But Bigby didn't hear his comment.

He had already left.

The shrew happened to be a petite woman in her early twenties. Her raven black hair had been done up in a large, voluminous updo as was fashionable during the era. Her lips were a scarlet color and her blue eyes were framed by full eyebrows.

She was the deputy mayor's assistant and an ardent suffragette. She was also the woman that the sheriff had fallen deeply in love with-unknown to the shrew, of course.

"He's late, Miss White!" the deputy mayor called out from his office. Miss White, who had been filing papers, stopped for a moment and walked into his office.

"Who is late again, Mr. Crane?" she asked in a sweet voice, offering a smile to the man.

"That love sick sheriff!"

"Oh, Mr. Crane, I wouldn't call anyone love sick if I were you." Her tone turned vicious and her smile transformed into a smirk. "And Mr. Wolf is always late. You and I both know that."

"Well, do something about it!"

"Why is it always me? You're the mayor, after all. But yet, I'm doing all the work for you, acting almost as if I'm your slave-"

"Enough, Miss White! Out of my office, now!"

Miss White stared at the mayor and took deep breaths-as deep as her corset would allow her to- and walked out of his office, feeling snubbed and upset. She went over to sit down in one of the chairs that had been set right outside of Mr. Crane's office. After sitting down, the woman closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, sighing deeply.

"I'm not his goddamn errand girl," she whispered in a soft voice.

"What was that?" At first, she thought that somehow Crane had heard her, even though the old man was near deaf, but it didn't sound like his voice at all. She opened her eyes and looked at the man who had asked her the question.

"Nothing, Mr. Wolf," she replied, smiling at him with her scarlet lips. "You're late."

"I'm...I apologize," was his quiet reply as he studied her face. She was absolutely exquisite. Her lips moved effortlessly and her smile was slightly tilted to one side. He could not help but smile back at the woman. "You look lovely today, Miss White."

"Flattery won't get you far with me, and it certainly won't get you far with Mr. Crane...he's quite upset."

"When isn't he?" Miss White smiled at the comment and shook her head slightly. "I'll take care of this...he been yelling at you again?" Miss White's smile vanished and she managed a small nod.

"He always does...I'm used to it."

"That's messed up, Sno-Miss White."

"What can I do? It's my job...like I said, I'm used to it."

Her excuse for everything was that she was used to it. He knew that the raven haired woman could defend herself. She acted as if she was devoid of any emotion and would wear a cold demeanor.

But he knew that was simply smoke and mirrors.

Her heart ached and he could see it on her gorgeous face. And he knew that she could only take so much before she broke down.

What he was unaware of was that Snow White did indeed break down into tears in the privacy of her own home.

She would sit on her bed and stare out the window, watching the busy streets of New York for a moment before feeling tears roll down her cheeks. She would bring her delicate fingers up to her cheeks and wipe them off in a futile attempt to stop the tears. But they did not stop and she found herself crying herself to sleep every single night.

While she was ashamed of this, at least she knew that no one had publicly witnessed her crying.

A woman like Snow White did not cry.

She had no time to.

She walked into her apartment.

It was an ample, lovely place;unlike the sheriff's. She tried to keep it tidy, but there were still piles of paperwork that she brought home from the office sitting on her kitchen table. She didn't mind. No one except her ate at the small table. She had no one to share her meals with. Not after a completely failed marriage proving fruitless in value.

No child had come out of the marriage. At the time, Snow had thought nothing of it, but now she found herself in need of one. Someone to provide her company and love.

How she craved these things.

But she knew that she should not. Once, she allowed herself to indulge in company and love. Once, she had fallen in love with the prince, who woke her. Once, she had lived in splendid luxury, dressed in the finest silks and velvets, living in a large palace with expensive portraits and attending important guests. Once, she had allowed the prince to love her, to explore her entire being, to whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Once, she had blushed with girlish delight at the compliments that he gave her.

Once.

But she was no longer a child. When she came to the realization that the prince had never truly love her and all he had loved was her small body, she became an adult. Childish fantasies were pushed out of her mind and she became a rational being.

There was no such thing as true love, she learned. People were vicious and in order to survive in this cold, twisted world, she had to become as vicious as they were.

She knew that she should not want company and love, for it would only hurt her tremendously.

But she did, anyway.

Perhaps, somewhere in that hardened heart, lay the wild spirit of the girl that she had once been.

She walked over to the kitchen and began preparing her meal. As she cut the carrots and threw them into the pot of boiling water, her thoughts drifted to her sister.

Rose.

She had refused to speak to her in years. Rose was a jealous sort who thought it was cute to sabotage her sister and take away the little happiness that she had. Rose was absolutely wild. Snow would often over hear the stories of the parties Rose would throw. Extravagant, ridiculous things. Her reputation had been thoroughly tainted due to her rather...licentious actions. Her style was odd and unbecoming. Her dresses-much to everyone's shock-were worn sleeveless and rather short and her hair was cut extremely short.

She was as wild as one could get. And in a way, Snow envied her. Snow envied her because she knew that Rose could get away with it. Rose dared to be different and barely cared about some silly reputation.

Snow White was the shining example of what a Gibson Girl should be with her long skirts and her large hair and the way she carried herself. Rose was different. Rose did not want to fit into some mold.

And in some warped way, Snow admired that.

Of course, she would never admit that.

After her meal was finished and she ate, her thoughts drifted to men. She had sworn off men completely, but she was a woman and she could not deny that she craved a man's touch every once in a while.

It did not even have to be an intimate action. It could simply be a kiss to the cheek.

But she could not indulge herself in such fantasies. She could not allow anyone to hurt her again.

She feared being hurt.

So therefore, she vowed off everything that one day might bring her happiness.

For happiness, as she had learned once, soon became a maddening hurt.

Winters in New York were cold and the days found themselves to be much shorter than the nights.

That was why Bigby often found himself walking alone on the streets, smoking a cigar and watching the other people bustle around, getting their Christmas shopping done as soon as possible.

He always watched for simply one person. A petite young woman always dressed in dark colors with dark hair.

Snow White.

But he knew she was never there. She was at home, sewing a new dress or reading a book. She was never there.

And no matter how much he wished she was there, she was not.

No matter how much she wished she could finish the ridiculous scarf, she could not.

She had given up about an hour ago and simply sat on her couch, looking at the wall, drowning in her own thoughts. Only a quick knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts.

"Hello?" she called out, slowly standing up. It was unusual to get visitors at this hour. She walked over to the door with caution and slightly opened it.

What lay behind the door was more terrifying than she could have ever imagined.

Prince Charming.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, raising a brow.

"Can't I come and visit my ex wife?" was his response as he eyed her up and down. "You haven't aged one bit since we first met."

"You haven't visited me in the last four hundred years. There's something you want and I'm not willing to give whatever it is to you."

"Are you so sure about that?"

"I'm absolutely positive."

"Come now, Snow. Would you really deny a night with me?"

"Charming, darling. You've never been that impressive in bed. Remember, I was your wife once. All you have is a pretty face that makes the whole experience bearable."

"That's harsh, Miss White." He smiled at her comment and studied her face that he knew so well. "Say, why don't you let me in? The least we can have is a nice, calm conversation."

"You'll just try to...seduce me."

"You're smart. Let me in."

"Ten minutes. Ten minutes and then you're out."

"Fair enough."

She opened the door and allowed the man to walk inside. The man, devoid of all manners, sat on the couch and spread his legs slightly.

"You're lucky you're handsome," Snow began as she walked into the kitchen to brew tea, "That's how you can get away with being so disrespectful." Charming smirked at her comment and patted the seat next to him.

"And you're absolutely gorgeous, Snow."

"I know that," was her cold reply as she set the tea in front of him and sat next to him. "I don't understand why you came back after so long, Charming...after what you did with my sister."

"She started it."

"You could have said no and pushed her off. You were just as willing as she was."

"The flesh is weak...especially for the sister of one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen. You and her look similar."

"No, we don't."

"Yes you do. Of course, you have your differences. She has a smaller, thinner nose than you and she has brighter eyes than you-"

"Enough! I don't want to hear about how prettier my sister is! I could care less." She took deep breaths as she uneasily sipped on her tea. "I need to go to sleep, so I think it would be wise of you to leave."

A small smile formed on his lips and he brought his dark, strong hand to her face, cupping her cheek.

"Charming, stop it."

He said nothing but leaned in before kissing her. And he knew, that like many years before, she had fallen for him.

The childlike, curious spirit had replaced her icy demeanor once more and she pressed his lips against his once again, feeling his familiar warmth. She allowed him to unbutton her blouse and pull her skirts down until all she was left in was her undergarments.

"You're still as gorgeous as ever," he whispered as he lay her down on the sofa and began unlacing her tight corset. As soon as it was unlaced, Snow took a deep breath and looked up at him. She studied that gorgeous face of his. How those blue eyes sparkled. How they seemed to hold no love in them. Only lust.

"Stop!" she yelled and pushed him away, tears rolling down her cheeks. "You never cared about me. You never loved me. I was a fool to believe that someone as self centered as you could ever love me!"

"Snow-"

"Go away!" He quickly buttoned his shirt and ran out of the apartment, leaving Snow to cry.

Once again, as she picked up her blouse and covered herself with it, she found herself crying until she was left without a single tear.

She cried herself to sleep once again.