"…And remember, if by chance you manage to survive, everything was Jack's fault."

The raven-haired beauty sat up like a rod, eyes unfocused, staring at nothing in the dimness of her bedroom for a moment before shaking her head and taking a deep, silent breath. Her curved fingers were like talons on the bedspread until she forcibly relaxed and ever so slowly lowered herself back onto the mattress. She was being completely silly. They had long ago learned it was Bluebeard who had sent them off to be assassinated by Goldilocks' revolutionary hands, but even though she occasionally had nightmares about bloody hatchets and screaming car crashes it wasn't horror that woke her up this night.

"What's wrong Snow?"

The former deputy mayor turned her head at the deep rumbling voice. Her husband's eyes were closed, bushy eyebrows slack with one arm thrown over the pillow while his chest tried to breathe through the bed. Bigby may have seemed like a deep sleeper but his senses were always alert, nose dissecting and detecting the slightest change in weather, material, and emotion. Even dreams.

"I know when you're happy, which is rare; when you're sad; and when you feel desperately lonely—which is all too often."

She smiled softly and watched as his lips quirked.

"I thought I was finally going to remember…but it was just a dream." As far as she knew neither one of them had been able to recall anything of their time together in the mountains of Seattle before waking to the realization that they actually were together in the mountains of Seattle; their children were the proof that something had happened, but unlike Bigby—who had at least been able to smell their encounter or encounters—Snow had nothing: no scent memory, no tactile memories, no faded markings. Oh well she had plenty new ones to choose from of course. Living here in Wolf Valley with her children and husband, family nearby, Snow was finally willing to believe that happily ever after was a possibility, but every now and then…

"What's wrong Snow?" His dark eyes were open now, gaze searching hers, truly looking at her in a way that her ex-husband wouldn't have known how. She reached over and pushed a lock of brown hair away from his rough cheek.

"Nothing's wrong," she sighed, resting both hands over her flannel covered chest. She wouldn't give up sleeping in comfortable pyjamas. Since their honeymoon he wouldn't stop sleeping nude. "I just don't—Bigby. Do you remember Seattle? All of it?"

"Nope," he stretched, scratching an ear, a yawn tumbling out. "I think that was the nature of the spell." Snow nodded. If Bluebeard had only wished humiliation at the time of his actions the memories would have been crystal clear—and Bigby and Snow wouldn't have been sent to Seattle. Grimble probably would have had to haul them apart in the front lobby. "Is that what you were dreaming about?"

"…I thought it was. But it was just a jumble. We're in the Woodland and suddenly we're hiking; the blanks are never filled in." Bigby rubbed his chin, leaning up on one solid elbow as Snow continued looking at the ceiling.

"Does that bother you?" He asked even though she knew he could probably gage her answer and it warmed her heart. He didn't assume things about her anymore—though she could grudgingly admit to herself he had been right on several issues before—and she appreciated it. With all his strength and skill, with his ability to read her like a book, she never felt like someone on display. Not with Bigby.

"What bothers me is that I can't remember how it felt."

"…What?" His brows had come together, a confused smirk playing along his mouth. Snow sighed and briefly closed her eyes, opening to stare down at the rise and fall of their bedspread.

"Bigby…You know that since my divorce I hadn't…And when we did…"

"Yeah?" There was a slight gruffness to the one syllable prompt. She couldn't blame him, after all who wants to have their name and their wife's ex-husband's name used in the same sentence when talking about sex? But that gruffness had never quieted Snow before.

"Well there are centuries between!" she hissed, hands slapping down on the sheets. "One moment I'm a born-again virgin and the next I'm pregnant with seven children and I don't even get the benefit of knowing whether or not I enjoyed it?! Why are you—Stop it. Bigby! Stop laughing!" Her husband's throaty chuckles echoed off their bedroom walls, his jaw tensed in effort to not become a cackling idiot. It had begun as a snort but now Bigby had half his perpetually scruffy face pressed into his pillow.

"Aw Snow," he took a breath. "That's what keeps you awake at night? C'mere." He had lifted a large hairy arm, draping it around Snow's small waist. "C'mere!" He dragged her across the sheets, bringing her back to his chest and nuzzling her head into the crook of his shoulder. "I knew you were crazy when I married you but." He received an elbow to the gut but knew she was smiling. Snow rolled her eyes and leaned into his warmth, sighing pleasantly as one broad hand moved beneath her pyjama top to rub circles on the sleepy skin of her stomach. Her feet inched back to twine with his; Bigby's feet—well Bigby himself was always warmer than she. Snow could feel his lips graze the back of her head, his chin dig affectionately.

He was a good man. Their children were safe and they adored him even after his absence—maybe even more because of it. He loved her with a will that could be intimidating, and wherever he travelled he always came back. Bigby always came back.

Those formerly tobacco stained fingers dipped down passed the waist of her pants to briefly caress the roundness of her hip, the tilt of her pubic bone, to begin a dance within the dark wiry curls that protected her womanhood. Her husband had spent two solid weeks mapping and tracing and tasting—this little nest of hair on her pale body while he was covered with it. He tugged gently, twisting and combing through, as his mouth fell forward while her head arched back. Open-mouthed kisses fell along her throat as far as Bigby could reach, teeth nipping unhurriedly, shallow beard scraping her skin pink; Snow snuggled further into her husband's body, gasping softly as his fingers finished their introduction and delved deeper into her moist folds, his thumb starting a deliberate circle around her awakened clit.

Snow's hands had been caressing and light against her husband's wrist, and now one moved up to tangle in his earthy locks to urge his mouth steady upon her neck; she rubbed her cheek against his. It was always intimate with Bigby. There had been many times together Snow would describe as "wild" but it was never "fucking" with her husband; she felt too special to place that sort of label on their relations. They were too close for her to not feel the effects of Bigby's own arousal but he wasn't pushing his release, only silently demanding her own as his fingers continued to move. Her juices sucked around his digits as first one and then another became sheathed inside her, moving and curling to press repeatedly over the bunched spot of flesh which made her toes clench and nails scrape and body scream how much she loved him. But Snow wasn't loud, and while her body reacted to the fireworks churning within her, her mouth simply opened to breathe deeper, faster, while a moan echoed from her panting chest.

Bigby held her tightly as her body settled, tremors rising and falling through her thighs and abdomen, while the man behind her began to chuckle again.

"Did you enjoy that?" He spoke into the skin below her ear, into her veins and muscles and sensitive flesh. Snow swallowed, her breath slowing.

"Always."

"Well there's your answer."

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A/N: I've lately become obsessed with the wonderful series that is Fables but as I have yet to read past Sons of the Empire I don't know if the topic of what happened during Snow and Bigby's mutual "blackout" has been discussed in detail, hence my little foray into smut :) Also, I'm not sure yet if this story is a one-shot or the start of a series of one-shots.

Disclaimer: Selected text comes from Fables: Storybook Love. I am not Bill Willingham nor do I have any connection to the Fables comics/graphic novels. This story is for entertainment purposes only.