“I can’t understand why you don’t just tell Bigby who you really are. I’m afraid being unable to figure it out has made him less…pleasant than he usually is.”
“Now where’s the fun in that, Bufkin?” You laugh, turning your head to look at the monkey as he eyes Bigby warily, a nervous grimace pulling his lips tight against his teeth. He’s the only Fable that is aware of your true identity, and has surprisingly kept it a well guarded secret. If the rest of Fabletown were to discover that The Knight in Shining Armor were real, and that she had survived The Exodus, you’d immediately have a target on your back. After what you watched Bigby and Snow go through trying to put an end to the Crooked Man’s schemes, you aren’t eager to throw yourself back into a fight. You’ve done your fair share of rescuing.
“While this may be enjoyable for you, I do not take pleasure in having books thrown at me.” Bufkin recoils slightly at the memory and takes a sip out of the wine bottle he’s been carrying with him for the better part of the afternoon, no doubt plucked from a desk somewhere and kept in the rafters for no one to see until the bottle was nearly empty and unable to be taken away from him. The incident he’s referring to happened once while you were away, prompting you to reprimand the Sheriff when you returned and demand he apologize to fable at once. You were surprised to hear that he already had, but it’s taking Bigby awhile to regain the librarian’s trust.
“You know he feels awful for doing that.” You frown, returning your attention to the aforementioned man. He’s hunched over the Book of Fables (a work he’s already read a handful of times and has always come up empty with), a lit cigarette hanging from his lips and his brows pinched together in frustration. Dark hair hangs in front of his face, obscuring the rest of his expression from view, but you’re more than certain it matches the rest of his pissed off demeanor. “Bigby’s a good detective. He’ll figure it out.” You lean over and press a kiss to Bufkin’s cheek, smiling when he flushes before heading over to where Bigby’s sitting. You don’t like when he gets like this, and have to remind him to relax every once and awhile.
“You’re looking in all the wrong places…” Leaning down, you pluck the bud from out of his mouth and extinguish it in the ashtray next to the piles of books he has in front of him, tutting disapprovingly at the fire hazard. Bigby grunts and leans back, bringing his hands to his face before dragging them downward as he lets out a sigh of exhaustion. He should be able to figure this out; he’s seen you at your most vulnerable, your most intimate, and yet he’s no closer than he was when you first met.
“Care to point me in the right direction?” He mutters gruffly, taking a hold of your hand and guiding you into his lap.
Despite what he thinks, he had gotten close to the right answer a few months ago. It had been the worst night of your life, and one of the few moments since you left the Homelands that you let yourself use your powers. Bigby got in over his head despite your warnings to tiptoe this investigation with caution, and it had almost cost him his life. It’s the only time you’ve had to rescue him, and hopefully the very last. In the haze of recovery, he barely remembered you being there at all. That was for the best, you thought, but the only reason he had lost control in the first place was because he had been working alone. No one else wants the tiring, never ending job of protecting more often than not ungrateful Fables who criticize every decision no matter if it was made with their greater good in mind.
“I know you don’t remember a lot from that night outside the Trip Trap, but I want you to try…” Bigby stiffens beneath you and his golden eyes harden for just a second before he blinks it away. You two don’t talk about what happened often, hardly at all now that it’s been awhile, but the fear it stirred up in the both of you lingers in the back of your heads almost constantly. “I was there, I know you remember that…”
The Sheriff is quiet, but you know he’s thinking about it when his grip on you tightens just a little. After a few minutes, it looks like the pieces are slowly beginning to connect in his head and you watch as sudden realization washes over him, and a look of confusion replaces it. “You’re the Knight in Shining Amour.” He doesn’t prompt it as a question because he knows it’s true. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Everyone had thought that Fable didn’t exist, that it was just a story that worked its way in from the mundys, and that whoever he was isn’t important, but it’s the only thing that explains how you were able to save him.
“Took you long enough, Wolf.” You tease, laughing when he rolls his eyes. Leaning forward to kiss him, you speak first.
"I’m your Knight in Shining Amour.”