Epic, A Grimm story by BymagaJones 8/?
Chapter 7 here
Chapter 8
“Hey!”
The shock of a hard smack across his face forced his eyes open, and he found himself staring at Nick, who leaned over him and was looking down at him, concern in his eyes. “Are you back with me?”
Monroe rubbed at his eyes.
“Monroe. Look at me.” He really didn’t want to, but his eyes returned to Nick’s. “It’s not your fault.”
He wanted to say, “Liar”, but all he could do was shake his head.
Nick adjusted himself until he straddled Monroe as much as he could within the confines of the backseat and pressed a hand on either side of Monroe’s face until Monroe couldn’t do anything but look at him. “Not. Your. Fault.” Nick’s thumbs started moving, and only then did Monroe realize that he was wiping tears from Monroe’s cheeks.
“I can’t -”
Nick leaned closer until his forehead pressed against Monroe’s. “You can. I’ll help.”
“I will too,” a voice called from the front seat, puncturing the cocoon Monroe hadn’t realized he and Nick had created.
“Me too,” another voice, this one tinny, also said from the front seat.
His head still pressed against Monroe’s, Nick smiled. “Wu?”
“I was feeling left out, asked Hank to put me on speaker. How’s it going, Monroe?”
He felt Nick’s chuckle throughout his own body and couldn’t help an answering one of his own. Leave it to Wu to act like Monroe’d been on vacation. “I’ve, umm, been better.”
“Bet you’ve been worse too,” Wu said, ever tactful. “Wait until you see Nick’s new house. It’s a beauty. A little out of the way for my taste, but you know me. I love the nightlife; I like to boogie.”
Rolling his eyes, Nick slowly backed off Monroe and continued out the open back door. It was then that Monroe realized that at some point during his breakdown, Hank had pulled over so Nick could climb out the front and into the back with him. He ran a hand over his face, trying to get rid of any residual tears, and took a deep, shaky breath. He needed to get himself under control. The only way he was going to make it out of Portland with his sanity is if he closed off the past. He dug deep, trying to find the detachment he’d created in Alaska, but it was difficult as Nick and Hank chatted with Wu in the front seat. Opening his eyes, he looked down at his hands and watched them twitching in his lap. Wishing he’d been left alone back in Alaska, his Blutbadness and fingernails still intact, he pressed his face against the cool window and just wished for it all to be over.
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Hank disconnected with Wu and shot a glance at Nick. “He asleep?”
Nick looked into the backseat, saddened at how defeated Monroe looked, curled up behind Hank’s seat, his face pressed against the window. His hands twitched in his lap, uncontrollable even in his sleep. “Yeah.”
“He’s not looking so good.”
“The guy who took him was a Grimm.”
Hank’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
Nick’s checked once more to make sure Monroe was indeed asleep before asking, “How much longer until we get to the house?”
“I’ll take the scenic route,” Hank said. “Just start at the beginning.”
So Nick began right after Hank had left him at the airport, leaving out nothing along the way, finishing with landing back in Portland, Monroe in tow. Spent, Nick flopped back in his seat, his gaze unfocused.
“Wow,” Hank said, blowing out a breath. “That’s some story, although that Grimm’s death was a little anticlimactic.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t have time for a complicated fight sequence,” Nick muttered, rolling his eyes.
“You had that entire flight to come up with a really great lie. I gotta say, you obviously didn’t spend that time wisely.” Hank’s grin became more mischievous as he slid his eyes quickly to Nick. “So this Greta sounds kind of hot.”
Grinning back, Nick rolled his head to look at his former partner. “After everything I told you, that’s what caught your interest?”
“Hey,” Hank shrugged a shoulder, “it’s time I was looking into finding the future fourth ex Mrs. Hank Griffin. A little international flavor might just be what I need. Was she beautiful? She sounds beautiful.”
Nick shook his head. Sure, she was a looker, but he found that his focus had somehow… drifted. He wasn’t sure when it had happened; maybe it had always been there, underneath the surface, but Juliette and then later Rosalee had pressed it down so far that he hadn’t even realized its existence. But now, with both of them gone and Monroe almost lost to him, he was finding it more and more difficult to push down the feelings that continued rising inside him, making him want to reach out and touch much more than he should.
But he was still trying to figure it all out and wasn’t ready to share with anyone. So instead of spilling out the pieces of his confused longings and wishes, he just tilted his head. “She was a looker.”
“And a warrior woman,” Hank said. “That sounds kinda hot.”
Nick’s eyes flickered to the backseat, where he caught Monroe’s glare before the Blutbad changed his focus, eyes shifting to stare out the window. How much had he heard? And why was he glaring?
Sighing, Nick turned his attention back to Hank, mentally adding yet another thing he and Monroe were probably going to have to work out. He wished that he could blink ahead, six months or maybe a year, where ideally, Monroe would be healed both mentally and physically and had made the decision to stay in Portland. To stay with Nick. His musing was cut short when Hank pulled into a driveway partially hidden by trees. He suddenly realized that he hadn’t been paying attention to Hank’s route and only had a basic idea of where they were. Wu was right; they had to be a bit off the beaten track, but Nick liked the idea of having land where Monroe could wolf out in relative safety.
The open wrought-iron fence was a surprise. “Are we still in Oregon?” Nick asked, only half joking.
“Very funny,” Hank said. “I know it feels a little away from the swing of things, but you’re only about half an hour away from the office - my office.”
Nick almost smiled at the slip. He had to admit that even though he’d finally made his peace with quitting, he still found himself automatically driving toward the police department at times, often reaching for his old badge.
One of the things he’d come to realize was that his determination to protect the innocent, both human and Wesen, wasn’t tied to the badge. Thanks to his bounty hunting, he had a license to carry his gun, and he still had his contacts in the police department. Sure, he missed the daily camaraderie, but he found that he still lived by the same rules, still had the same values. He might not be able to actively arrest someone, but he also didn’t have all of the paperwork either. He worked his own hours, chose his cases.
At first he’d drunk a little too much to escape the pain. After the fourth or fifth time Hank’d had to pull him off a barstool and pour him into his guest bedroom, the detective’d had enough. He’d taken some personal time and kidnapped Nick to an old friend’s skiing cabin. He’d dried Nick out, sat him down, and forced him to come to grips with a few things. It had been a tough few days, but Nick had emerged more resolved than he’d ever felt in his life. He’d lost so much, but he was determined to immerse himself in his work as a Grimm. The bounty hunting and private detective work provided excuses for his Grimm work and paid for his Grimm supplies. What little free time he had he either spent training and researching - and hanging out with Hank and Wu, who were always there for him.
Oblivious to Nick’s introspection, Hank drove through the open gate, adopting a formal, lilting voice. “You’ll notice that the raised wood walkway leads to the front door - an excellent location to take out unfriendly Wesen before they even make it to your gorgeous foyer.”
“This place is huge,” Monroe said from the backseat. “How many families are you expecting to move in with Nick?”
“It has five bedrooms, but listen - listen!” Hank had to holler to be heard over Nick and Monroe’s protests. “There is an explanation.” He paused in the silence. “I’m just not prepared to make it quite yet.”
“You bought me a mansion, and you’re not prepared to explain why you chose something so huge for two of us?”
“Not yet, no,” Hank said firmly. “However, I will say that the house comes with over nine acres of forest. So you can train and do whatever out there without having to worry that someone’s gonna spot you.” He pulled up behind Nick’s car, turned off the motor, and pulled out his key. Smiling a huge plastic smile, he first turned to Monroe, then Nick. “Let’s go take a look at the inside, shall we?”
Nick couldn’t help but share his grin with Monroe, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
It took a little time to get Monroe out of the car, and of course he insisted on pulling out the dumb stick Nick had given to him as a joke back in Russia. Nick had tried to ask Darren for a cane, but Monroe had refused to relinquish Nick’s gift.
Hank waited for them before pulling out the key with a flourish. “Pay particular attention to the vaulted ceilings and Pergo flooring.”
Nick frowned. “What’s Pergo?”
Hank didn’t even pause. “I have no idea. But evidently it’s something to brag about.”
Monroe sighed. “It’s a high-quality, durable laminate. They can texture it to resemble quite a few natural floorings like wood or stone.”
Nick frowned. “Why not just get wood or stone?”
“Pergo’s easier to maintain,” Monroe said.
“So you can clean up any stains or fluids or anything easily,” Hank added.
Nick looked at his friend. “What exactly do you think is going to go on here?”
“Just take a look at the damn house,” Hank muttered, finally unlocking the door and opening it with a flourish. He quickly showed them how to work the alarm, telling them that the written instructions and other paperwork were in a small pile on the kitchen counter.
Nick walked into the living room and had to admit that he liked the feel of the place already. The vaulted ceilings Hank was bragging about did make the room feel open and welcoming. He was of mixed minds about the two picture windows - on one hand, they provided a beautiful view of the woods. But that meant that anyone else could also see inside.
“Thick curtains’ll take care of that,” Monroe said, reading his mind, the thump of his stick echoing in the empty room. He looked down, hitting the floor a few more times. “Pergo.”
“You really need to stop watching HGTV,” Hank said.
“Absolutely not,” Nick said. “I have to figure out how to decorate all these rooms on the what? The fifty cents I have left in my account.”
They walked into the kitchen, and Monroe stopped at the entrance with a soft, “oh!” He limped into the room happily, feeling the cabinets. “These are cherry!” He turned, thumping to the island, caressing the countertop. “Quartz,” he sighed.
“So…,” Nick said after controlling his smile at Monroe’s obvious pleasure. “Better than Pergo?”
“Shut up.”
They made their way through the house, the bedrooms (Hank: “Each of you could have your own office - Monroe, just imagine how many clocks you could fit in here.”), the four and a half baths (Nick: “How much peeing are you expecting us to do?” Hank: “I’ve seen how much you can put away. Now you’ll have a better chance of actually making it to a toilet, no matter where in the house you’re drinking.” Nick: “I don’t have to worry about that. We have Pergo floors.” Monroe [sighing]: “This is going to be a thing, isn’t it?”), and the basement (Nick: “What are we supposed to do with all this?” Hank: “It’s perfect for an entertainment room. Buy a couple of really comfortable sofas, the ones with the built-in cup holders, an HD TV or maybe go 3-D...” Nick: “If we do that, you’ll never leave.” Monroe: “I got it! Two of the bedrooms are for you and Wu!” Nick: “Good, then you both can pay rent.”).
They ended up on the deck, each with a beer from the six-pack that Hank had stashed in the fridge, as the sun went down. Nick noticed that it wasn’t Hank’s normal cheap brand but rather one of the more expensive microbrews that Monroe favored. He watched Monroe’s pleased surprise when he recognized the label, the fond look he gave Hank, who smiled and gently clapped Monroe on the shoulder as he passed by on his way outside.
Unsure what bedrooms they might want to use but knowing they had to sleep somewhere on their first night, Hank had purchased two beds - a California King for Monroe and a regular king for Nick “so you won’t get an inferiority complex” - and had them installed in the two master bedrooms. He’d also bought toilet paper, sheets, pillows, and blankets for the both of them, “just the necessities for your first night home”.
“How can a house have two master bedrooms?” Nick asked, taking a sip of his beer and silently acknowledging that he’d missed the expensive stuff. It had somehow felt wrong to drink it without Monroe around, like he was cheating or something.
They both looked at Monroe, who thought for a second. “Maybe the husband snored, so the wife had to have her own bedroom. And she wasn’t about to get stuck in some small room…”
“So two master bedrooms,” Hank said. “Well, it works out really well for you both.” He held up his beer. “Here’s to two master bedrooms.”
“And to Hank for finding this place,” Nick said, honestly touched at the work Hank had gone through. When he’d used Greta’s satellite phone to ask for Hank’s help, he’d only expected the detective to find something better than the inner office of his business. He hadn’t intended for Hank to go so far out of his way. Of course, he was worried about the price. He’d made good money off his old house, but it wasn’t going to touch how much this house must’ve cost. He’d have to take on more cases to make the mortgage payments, but imagining Monroe running free in the backyard made the whole thing feel worth it.
“To Hank,” Monroe seconded, touching his bottle to Hank and Nick’s. He seemed to be in a better mood, probably because this house held a large comfortable bed with his name on it and no burdensome memories.
Hank left after finishing his beer, reminding them that he and Wu would be back the following night to “christen this place properly”. Nick leaned against the door, sighing as he looked at his new home. Hank had promised to bring by all the paperwork so they could go over it, but he’d said he’d gotten a good deal.
To be honest, Nick didn’t really care about the money. Thanks to the improvements he and Juliette had made over the years and the fact that it had been a seller’s market, he’d actually made money on the old house. Evidently now it was a buyer’s market, and Hank had let that work for him.
The past few years, Nick hadn’t really spent much money on anything. He’d bought a few guns since he’d had return his police-issued weapon and started renting his office/living space. But besides a few Grimm supplies, general necessities, and food - and beer - he’d just deposited any money he made.
He liked the place. Sure, it was way too big for him and Monroe, but it had a good feel to it. It felt spacious but not overwhelming.
Pushing away from the door, he headed toward the kitchen, where he heard Monroe opening and closing various cabinets.
“So what do you think?”
“This kitchen is fantastic!” Monroe’s head popped over the island for a moment before disappearing again. “The shelf space blows my mind, and the number of outlets means that we can pretty much choose where we want to put our appliances without having to make adjustments.”
Nick liked the way Monroe took charge of the kitchen, automatically using words like “we” and “us” when he spoke. He didn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “You know all I really care about is having a coffee maker.”
“Still haven’t learned how to cook?” Monroe’s muffled voice asked.
“There really wasn’t a point. It was just me, and the office doesn’t have a kitchen,” he said, thinking of the ancient microwave and the hotplate on his windowsill.
The ensuing silence made him curse silently. His life hadn’t felt pathetic until he saw it from Monroe’s view.
He decided to change the subject. “Hank left sandwich fixings so we wouldn’t have to worry about dinner.”
Monroe stood, his eyes darting everywhere but at Nick, obviously a bad sign. “I’m, um, actually pretty tired.”
Nick checked his phone. “It’s only seven o’clock.”
“Time zone change, what a bitch, right?” Monroe tossed a lame smile in Nick’s direction. “I’m just gonna…” He tilted his head toward the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night,” Nick said, disappointed but not surprised. He knew this was going to take time, choosing to focus on the positives. This time two weeks ago, he was living in his office and hadn’t known anything about Monroe’s whereabouts. Now he had Monroe, a huge house, and nine acres of woods. It was an excellent start.
Entry with links to each chapter
Chapter 8
“Hey!”
The shock of a hard smack across his face forced his eyes open, and he found himself staring at Nick, who leaned over him and was looking down at him, concern in his eyes. “Are you back with me?”
Monroe rubbed at his eyes.
“Monroe. Look at me.” He really didn’t want to, but his eyes returned to Nick’s. “It’s not your fault.”
He wanted to say, “Liar”, but all he could do was shake his head.
Nick adjusted himself until he straddled Monroe as much as he could within the confines of the backseat and pressed a hand on either side of Monroe’s face until Monroe couldn’t do anything but look at him. “Not. Your. Fault.” Nick’s thumbs started moving, and only then did Monroe realize that he was wiping tears from Monroe’s cheeks.
“I can’t -”
Nick leaned closer until his forehead pressed against Monroe’s. “You can. I’ll help.”
“I will too,” a voice called from the front seat, puncturing the cocoon Monroe hadn’t realized he and Nick had created.
“Me too,” another voice, this one tinny, also said from the front seat.
His head still pressed against Monroe’s, Nick smiled. “Wu?”
“I was feeling left out, asked Hank to put me on speaker. How’s it going, Monroe?”
He felt Nick’s chuckle throughout his own body and couldn’t help an answering one of his own. Leave it to Wu to act like Monroe’d been on vacation. “I’ve, umm, been better.”
“Bet you’ve been worse too,” Wu said, ever tactful. “Wait until you see Nick’s new house. It’s a beauty. A little out of the way for my taste, but you know me. I love the nightlife; I like to boogie.”
Rolling his eyes, Nick slowly backed off Monroe and continued out the open back door. It was then that Monroe realized that at some point during his breakdown, Hank had pulled over so Nick could climb out the front and into the back with him. He ran a hand over his face, trying to get rid of any residual tears, and took a deep, shaky breath. He needed to get himself under control. The only way he was going to make it out of Portland with his sanity is if he closed off the past. He dug deep, trying to find the detachment he’d created in Alaska, but it was difficult as Nick and Hank chatted with Wu in the front seat. Opening his eyes, he looked down at his hands and watched them twitching in his lap. Wishing he’d been left alone back in Alaska, his Blutbadness and fingernails still intact, he pressed his face against the cool window and just wished for it all to be over.
G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M G R I M M
Hank disconnected with Wu and shot a glance at Nick. “He asleep?”
Nick looked into the backseat, saddened at how defeated Monroe looked, curled up behind Hank’s seat, his face pressed against the window. His hands twitched in his lap, uncontrollable even in his sleep. “Yeah.”
“He’s not looking so good.”
“The guy who took him was a Grimm.”
Hank’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
Nick’s checked once more to make sure Monroe was indeed asleep before asking, “How much longer until we get to the house?”
“I’ll take the scenic route,” Hank said. “Just start at the beginning.”
So Nick began right after Hank had left him at the airport, leaving out nothing along the way, finishing with landing back in Portland, Monroe in tow. Spent, Nick flopped back in his seat, his gaze unfocused.
“Wow,” Hank said, blowing out a breath. “That’s some story, although that Grimm’s death was a little anticlimactic.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t have time for a complicated fight sequence,” Nick muttered, rolling his eyes.
“You had that entire flight to come up with a really great lie. I gotta say, you obviously didn’t spend that time wisely.” Hank’s grin became more mischievous as he slid his eyes quickly to Nick. “So this Greta sounds kind of hot.”
Grinning back, Nick rolled his head to look at his former partner. “After everything I told you, that’s what caught your interest?”
“Hey,” Hank shrugged a shoulder, “it’s time I was looking into finding the future fourth ex Mrs. Hank Griffin. A little international flavor might just be what I need. Was she beautiful? She sounds beautiful.”
Nick shook his head. Sure, she was a looker, but he found that his focus had somehow… drifted. He wasn’t sure when it had happened; maybe it had always been there, underneath the surface, but Juliette and then later Rosalee had pressed it down so far that he hadn’t even realized its existence. But now, with both of them gone and Monroe almost lost to him, he was finding it more and more difficult to push down the feelings that continued rising inside him, making him want to reach out and touch much more than he should.
But he was still trying to figure it all out and wasn’t ready to share with anyone. So instead of spilling out the pieces of his confused longings and wishes, he just tilted his head. “She was a looker.”
“And a warrior woman,” Hank said. “That sounds kinda hot.”
Nick’s eyes flickered to the backseat, where he caught Monroe’s glare before the Blutbad changed his focus, eyes shifting to stare out the window. How much had he heard? And why was he glaring?
Sighing, Nick turned his attention back to Hank, mentally adding yet another thing he and Monroe were probably going to have to work out. He wished that he could blink ahead, six months or maybe a year, where ideally, Monroe would be healed both mentally and physically and had made the decision to stay in Portland. To stay with Nick. His musing was cut short when Hank pulled into a driveway partially hidden by trees. He suddenly realized that he hadn’t been paying attention to Hank’s route and only had a basic idea of where they were. Wu was right; they had to be a bit off the beaten track, but Nick liked the idea of having land where Monroe could wolf out in relative safety.
The open wrought-iron fence was a surprise. “Are we still in Oregon?” Nick asked, only half joking.
“Very funny,” Hank said. “I know it feels a little away from the swing of things, but you’re only about half an hour away from the office - my office.”
Nick almost smiled at the slip. He had to admit that even though he’d finally made his peace with quitting, he still found himself automatically driving toward the police department at times, often reaching for his old badge.
One of the things he’d come to realize was that his determination to protect the innocent, both human and Wesen, wasn’t tied to the badge. Thanks to his bounty hunting, he had a license to carry his gun, and he still had his contacts in the police department. Sure, he missed the daily camaraderie, but he found that he still lived by the same rules, still had the same values. He might not be able to actively arrest someone, but he also didn’t have all of the paperwork either. He worked his own hours, chose his cases.
At first he’d drunk a little too much to escape the pain. After the fourth or fifth time Hank’d had to pull him off a barstool and pour him into his guest bedroom, the detective’d had enough. He’d taken some personal time and kidnapped Nick to an old friend’s skiing cabin. He’d dried Nick out, sat him down, and forced him to come to grips with a few things. It had been a tough few days, but Nick had emerged more resolved than he’d ever felt in his life. He’d lost so much, but he was determined to immerse himself in his work as a Grimm. The bounty hunting and private detective work provided excuses for his Grimm work and paid for his Grimm supplies. What little free time he had he either spent training and researching - and hanging out with Hank and Wu, who were always there for him.
Oblivious to Nick’s introspection, Hank drove through the open gate, adopting a formal, lilting voice. “You’ll notice that the raised wood walkway leads to the front door - an excellent location to take out unfriendly Wesen before they even make it to your gorgeous foyer.”
“This place is huge,” Monroe said from the backseat. “How many families are you expecting to move in with Nick?”
“It has five bedrooms, but listen - listen!” Hank had to holler to be heard over Nick and Monroe’s protests. “There is an explanation.” He paused in the silence. “I’m just not prepared to make it quite yet.”
“You bought me a mansion, and you’re not prepared to explain why you chose something so huge for two of us?”
“Not yet, no,” Hank said firmly. “However, I will say that the house comes with over nine acres of forest. So you can train and do whatever out there without having to worry that someone’s gonna spot you.” He pulled up behind Nick’s car, turned off the motor, and pulled out his key. Smiling a huge plastic smile, he first turned to Monroe, then Nick. “Let’s go take a look at the inside, shall we?”
Nick couldn’t help but share his grin with Monroe, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
It took a little time to get Monroe out of the car, and of course he insisted on pulling out the dumb stick Nick had given to him as a joke back in Russia. Nick had tried to ask Darren for a cane, but Monroe had refused to relinquish Nick’s gift.
Hank waited for them before pulling out the key with a flourish. “Pay particular attention to the vaulted ceilings and Pergo flooring.”
Nick frowned. “What’s Pergo?”
Hank didn’t even pause. “I have no idea. But evidently it’s something to brag about.”
Monroe sighed. “It’s a high-quality, durable laminate. They can texture it to resemble quite a few natural floorings like wood or stone.”
Nick frowned. “Why not just get wood or stone?”
“Pergo’s easier to maintain,” Monroe said.
“So you can clean up any stains or fluids or anything easily,” Hank added.
Nick looked at his friend. “What exactly do you think is going to go on here?”
“Just take a look at the damn house,” Hank muttered, finally unlocking the door and opening it with a flourish. He quickly showed them how to work the alarm, telling them that the written instructions and other paperwork were in a small pile on the kitchen counter.
Nick walked into the living room and had to admit that he liked the feel of the place already. The vaulted ceilings Hank was bragging about did make the room feel open and welcoming. He was of mixed minds about the two picture windows - on one hand, they provided a beautiful view of the woods. But that meant that anyone else could also see inside.
“Thick curtains’ll take care of that,” Monroe said, reading his mind, the thump of his stick echoing in the empty room. He looked down, hitting the floor a few more times. “Pergo.”
“You really need to stop watching HGTV,” Hank said.
“Absolutely not,” Nick said. “I have to figure out how to decorate all these rooms on the what? The fifty cents I have left in my account.”
They walked into the kitchen, and Monroe stopped at the entrance with a soft, “oh!” He limped into the room happily, feeling the cabinets. “These are cherry!” He turned, thumping to the island, caressing the countertop. “Quartz,” he sighed.
“So…,” Nick said after controlling his smile at Monroe’s obvious pleasure. “Better than Pergo?”
“Shut up.”
They made their way through the house, the bedrooms (Hank: “Each of you could have your own office - Monroe, just imagine how many clocks you could fit in here.”), the four and a half baths (Nick: “How much peeing are you expecting us to do?” Hank: “I’ve seen how much you can put away. Now you’ll have a better chance of actually making it to a toilet, no matter where in the house you’re drinking.” Nick: “I don’t have to worry about that. We have Pergo floors.” Monroe [sighing]: “This is going to be a thing, isn’t it?”), and the basement (Nick: “What are we supposed to do with all this?” Hank: “It’s perfect for an entertainment room. Buy a couple of really comfortable sofas, the ones with the built-in cup holders, an HD TV or maybe go 3-D...” Nick: “If we do that, you’ll never leave.” Monroe: “I got it! Two of the bedrooms are for you and Wu!” Nick: “Good, then you both can pay rent.”).
They ended up on the deck, each with a beer from the six-pack that Hank had stashed in the fridge, as the sun went down. Nick noticed that it wasn’t Hank’s normal cheap brand but rather one of the more expensive microbrews that Monroe favored. He watched Monroe’s pleased surprise when he recognized the label, the fond look he gave Hank, who smiled and gently clapped Monroe on the shoulder as he passed by on his way outside.
Unsure what bedrooms they might want to use but knowing they had to sleep somewhere on their first night, Hank had purchased two beds - a California King for Monroe and a regular king for Nick “so you won’t get an inferiority complex” - and had them installed in the two master bedrooms. He’d also bought toilet paper, sheets, pillows, and blankets for the both of them, “just the necessities for your first night home”.
“How can a house have two master bedrooms?” Nick asked, taking a sip of his beer and silently acknowledging that he’d missed the expensive stuff. It had somehow felt wrong to drink it without Monroe around, like he was cheating or something.
They both looked at Monroe, who thought for a second. “Maybe the husband snored, so the wife had to have her own bedroom. And she wasn’t about to get stuck in some small room…”
“So two master bedrooms,” Hank said. “Well, it works out really well for you both.” He held up his beer. “Here’s to two master bedrooms.”
“And to Hank for finding this place,” Nick said, honestly touched at the work Hank had gone through. When he’d used Greta’s satellite phone to ask for Hank’s help, he’d only expected the detective to find something better than the inner office of his business. He hadn’t intended for Hank to go so far out of his way. Of course, he was worried about the price. He’d made good money off his old house, but it wasn’t going to touch how much this house must’ve cost. He’d have to take on more cases to make the mortgage payments, but imagining Monroe running free in the backyard made the whole thing feel worth it.
“To Hank,” Monroe seconded, touching his bottle to Hank and Nick’s. He seemed to be in a better mood, probably because this house held a large comfortable bed with his name on it and no burdensome memories.
Hank left after finishing his beer, reminding them that he and Wu would be back the following night to “christen this place properly”. Nick leaned against the door, sighing as he looked at his new home. Hank had promised to bring by all the paperwork so they could go over it, but he’d said he’d gotten a good deal.
To be honest, Nick didn’t really care about the money. Thanks to the improvements he and Juliette had made over the years and the fact that it had been a seller’s market, he’d actually made money on the old house. Evidently now it was a buyer’s market, and Hank had let that work for him.
The past few years, Nick hadn’t really spent much money on anything. He’d bought a few guns since he’d had return his police-issued weapon and started renting his office/living space. But besides a few Grimm supplies, general necessities, and food - and beer - he’d just deposited any money he made.
He liked the place. Sure, it was way too big for him and Monroe, but it had a good feel to it. It felt spacious but not overwhelming.
Pushing away from the door, he headed toward the kitchen, where he heard Monroe opening and closing various cabinets.
“So what do you think?”
“This kitchen is fantastic!” Monroe’s head popped over the island for a moment before disappearing again. “The shelf space blows my mind, and the number of outlets means that we can pretty much choose where we want to put our appliances without having to make adjustments.”
Nick liked the way Monroe took charge of the kitchen, automatically using words like “we” and “us” when he spoke. He didn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “You know all I really care about is having a coffee maker.”
“Still haven’t learned how to cook?” Monroe’s muffled voice asked.
“There really wasn’t a point. It was just me, and the office doesn’t have a kitchen,” he said, thinking of the ancient microwave and the hotplate on his windowsill.
The ensuing silence made him curse silently. His life hadn’t felt pathetic until he saw it from Monroe’s view.
He decided to change the subject. “Hank left sandwich fixings so we wouldn’t have to worry about dinner.”
Monroe stood, his eyes darting everywhere but at Nick, obviously a bad sign. “I’m, um, actually pretty tired.”
Nick checked his phone. “It’s only seven o’clock.”
“Time zone change, what a bitch, right?” Monroe tossed a lame smile in Nick’s direction. “I’m just gonna…” He tilted his head toward the stairs. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night,” Nick said, disappointed but not surprised. He knew this was going to take time, choosing to focus on the positives. This time two weeks ago, he was living in his office and hadn’t known anything about Monroe’s whereabouts. Now he had Monroe, a huge house, and nine acres of woods. It was an excellent start.
Entry with links to each chapter