Chapter Text
Bigby and Snow stepped out into the business office, Bigby blinking as the bright lights conflicted with the darkness that had been Gotham.
“Ahhh,” came from Snow’s desk. “Welcome home Ms. Snow and Mr. Bigby. I have to admit, I was starting to get worried we might never see our sheriff again.”
Snow walked forward towards the long table that was usually strewn with books. Now, though, it has been cleared. All but a sheath for her personal sword.
The one Charming had gotten her.
Once upon a time…
Bigby smiled, it was also the same sword she had swung at him all those years ago in the Homelands.
How the times change.
“It’s good to be home Buffkin,” Bigby greeted as he followed Snow. He carefully placed the sword on the table as he asked, “you don’t happen to know how the Vorpal Sword left the business office, do you Bufkin?”
“I…” Bufkin paused, turning his head to the side as he contemplated. “I didn’t even know it was missing.”
“So,” Snow cut in. “You said their Earth had a Mad Hatter?”
0o0o0
“---and then you showed up,” Bigby finished.
Snow kept looking at him , raising her eyebrows and she softly shook her head in disbelief. “Jesus, Bigby,” she all but whispered as she brought her glass to her lips.
“Yeah,” Bigby agreed as he leaned back. They were sitting in Snow’s apartment. The Saturday morning sun cascading in around the edges of the drawn curtains. The ‘report’ was non-formal and was more ‘friends catching up’ than ‘debrief’. But, god had he needed this.
Gotham was like the Homelands.
Monsters around every corner.
But he wasn’t the same as he had been in the Homelands.
He wasn’t the same monster who ate little girls in red capes.
Or angsty 20 year old boys in red helmets…
Bigby threw back the rest of his scotch as Snow stood with her empty glass, she grabbed the drained wine bottle and ¼ full scotch bottle as she did so. She held out the scotch to him, raising her eyebrows in a silent ask if he wanted more.
“I’m good, thanks,” he said as he stood, following her into the kitchen with his empty glass as the plate of snacks she had made. He knew they were both exhausted and wanted to turn in for a few hours of shut eye.
Bigby was still clad in the kevlar the bats had given him and Snow had removed the chain mail but still had her under armor on.
He could still smell the Gotham smog on them.