Grimm Fic: Changing the Status Quo
Title: Changing the Status Quo
Author: grimcognito
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: Episode tag for 1x09 'Of Mice and Man'
Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding the television show Grimm or its characters, and make no profit from this. I'm just borrowing them for some fun.
Author Notes: I knew I could only resist for so long before I dove headfirst into this fandom. :D
Summary: Fill for this prompt at Grimm_Kink.
Word Count: 1104
Funny how Monroe’s attackers planned for every contingency regarding creatures, but they so easily forgot basic human investigative skills. That was their second mistake. Their first was hurting Monroe.
The idiots didn’t realize that there were traffic cameras right on the corner to capture each of them arriving and leaving the building. While the trees blocked the actual building from the camera view, there were only five cars that came in, all around the same time. Monroe’s yellow bug was the fifth one, and only four left until Monroe’s car eased its way back onto the road a good three hours later. Four license plate numbers and four blurry images of drivers. More than enough for Nick to find them.
He didn’t know what kind of creatures they were, but the rest of their lives were easy to pin down and it took all of twenty minutes for him to find out where they lived and worked. The next step took a bit longer, but he found what he needed thanks to a slow day of deskwork and he had all the information he needed by the time he left the station for his lunch break and drove to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall bookstore that only took cash. It was still cold out, so no one thought it odd that he kept his gloves on while making his purchase, and he returned to work with a smile and a bag tucked away in the trunk of his car.
After his shift, he said his round of good-byes to Hank and the others at the station and left. He had just enough time for a quick detour to the post office, then a stop at the grocery store for food with a very specific list, because Monroe was picky and wanted his peas flash frozen and organic, and his chicken cage-free and grass fed. Nick rolled his eyes with a smile at the little notes next to half of the items, but made sure to get everything right. He did throw in a box of peanut butter cookies just to annoy him, because no matter how much Monroe complained they were lumps of unhealthy, hydrogenated something-or-other, he always ended up eating the whole box in the middle of the night.
His fingers tightened on the edge of the box in his hand as Nick thought of how easily he could have lost Monroe. He could have lost the exasperated snark, the crooked grins, the warm body curled around his at night, the one who stood by him through anything. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes until he felt calmer and opened them again, unclenching his hand when he realized he’d put some serious dents into the cookie box.
Clearing his throat, he dropped the box into his basket and headed to the checkout. Monroe wasn’t gone, he was at home right now, waiting for Nick to bring him his expensive groceries-five dollars for a carton of eggs, what the hell-and probably grumbling like the old man he pretended to be as he paced around his little kitchen making the tea Nick wasn’t allowed to touch anymore. How was he supposed to know the little unmarked tin full of twigs and leaf bits was tea? Anyone would have thought the same thing, that it was some kind of stale potpourri, and thrown it away too.
He paid for the groceries without much thought, other than to wince slightly at the cost again, and finally made it home where Monroe was doing exactly as expected, carefully replacing the tin high in the cupboard as he glared slightly at Nick who just grinned innocently right back before stealing a kiss.
Later, when Monroe was snoring softly beside him, the gentle scent of medicinal herbs coming from the salve Nick had rubbed into his bruises and aches, Nick eased out of the bed and slipped downstairs. He sat in the little office Monroe had cleared out for him, just for his work, and shut the door. If Monroe woke up, he would think Nick was just reviewing notes on a case, like he sometimes did when he couldn’t sleep.
He pulled on a pair of gloves and opened the bags he’d left on his desk after bringing in the groceries; one from the bookstore, and one with packaging envelopes from the post office. Then there was the battered case under his desk, dusted with wolvesbane so Monroe wouldn’t smell it, and Nick’s lips curled with something that felt disturbingly like satisfaction as he unlatched the clasp.
Inside were four pieces of a scythe; two halves of a broken handle and two large pieces of a shattered blade, all flecked with blood. Stupid man had been newer than Nick when it came to his inheritance, and had tried to make an attack on Monroe the night after he’d sent his message. He hadn’t been expecting Nick to get to be waiting for him, which had been his biggest-and last-mistake.
The bag from the bookstore contained four identical copies of Brothers Grimm’s Fairytales and on the blank space inside of the cover he carefully penned a note in each.
Dear Friend,
I know how much you love these fairytales, perhaps even relate to them a bit, and decided to give you one as a token of our friendship. It is unfortunate that you will be leaving town soon, but family should always come first, don’t you agree? Remember me fondly and be assured that I will never forget you.
It was signed with an image of a crest: a police badge shield framing a simple howling wolf. He prepared each package with a book and piece of broken scythe, sealed it, and applied the addresses with printed labels.
Finished, he set them out to put in the mail the next morning on his way to work and returned to bed, where Monroe grumbled about cold feet, but didn’t move away. For a moment, he wondered if this was the beginning of a decline into exactly the type of person he didn’t want to be, but one look at Monroe resting peacefully, so different from the paranoia-induced insomnia he’d had right after the attack, and he knew he would do the same thing again if he had to, no regrets.
Monroe sighed, apparently awake, and sleepily palmed Nick’s face. “Dude, stop the creeper eyes and go to sleep. I swear, the things I deal with…” He faded off into mumbles and with an amused snort, Nick did as he was told and joined him in sleep.
Author: grimcognito
Rating: PG-13
Spoiler: Episode tag for 1x09 'Of Mice and Man'
Disclaimer: I own nothing regarding the television show Grimm or its characters, and make no profit from this. I'm just borrowing them for some fun.
Author Notes: I knew I could only resist for so long before I dove headfirst into this fandom. :D
Summary: Fill for this prompt at Grimm_Kink.
Word Count: 1104
Funny how Monroe’s attackers planned for every contingency regarding creatures, but they so easily forgot basic human investigative skills. That was their second mistake. Their first was hurting Monroe.
The idiots didn’t realize that there were traffic cameras right on the corner to capture each of them arriving and leaving the building. While the trees blocked the actual building from the camera view, there were only five cars that came in, all around the same time. Monroe’s yellow bug was the fifth one, and only four left until Monroe’s car eased its way back onto the road a good three hours later. Four license plate numbers and four blurry images of drivers. More than enough for Nick to find them.
He didn’t know what kind of creatures they were, but the rest of their lives were easy to pin down and it took all of twenty minutes for him to find out where they lived and worked. The next step took a bit longer, but he found what he needed thanks to a slow day of deskwork and he had all the information he needed by the time he left the station for his lunch break and drove to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall bookstore that only took cash. It was still cold out, so no one thought it odd that he kept his gloves on while making his purchase, and he returned to work with a smile and a bag tucked away in the trunk of his car.
After his shift, he said his round of good-byes to Hank and the others at the station and left. He had just enough time for a quick detour to the post office, then a stop at the grocery store for food with a very specific list, because Monroe was picky and wanted his peas flash frozen and organic, and his chicken cage-free and grass fed. Nick rolled his eyes with a smile at the little notes next to half of the items, but made sure to get everything right. He did throw in a box of peanut butter cookies just to annoy him, because no matter how much Monroe complained they were lumps of unhealthy, hydrogenated something-or-other, he always ended up eating the whole box in the middle of the night.
His fingers tightened on the edge of the box in his hand as Nick thought of how easily he could have lost Monroe. He could have lost the exasperated snark, the crooked grins, the warm body curled around his at night, the one who stood by him through anything. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes until he felt calmer and opened them again, unclenching his hand when he realized he’d put some serious dents into the cookie box.
Clearing his throat, he dropped the box into his basket and headed to the checkout. Monroe wasn’t gone, he was at home right now, waiting for Nick to bring him his expensive groceries-five dollars for a carton of eggs, what the hell-and probably grumbling like the old man he pretended to be as he paced around his little kitchen making the tea Nick wasn’t allowed to touch anymore. How was he supposed to know the little unmarked tin full of twigs and leaf bits was tea? Anyone would have thought the same thing, that it was some kind of stale potpourri, and thrown it away too.
He paid for the groceries without much thought, other than to wince slightly at the cost again, and finally made it home where Monroe was doing exactly as expected, carefully replacing the tin high in the cupboard as he glared slightly at Nick who just grinned innocently right back before stealing a kiss.
Later, when Monroe was snoring softly beside him, the gentle scent of medicinal herbs coming from the salve Nick had rubbed into his bruises and aches, Nick eased out of the bed and slipped downstairs. He sat in the little office Monroe had cleared out for him, just for his work, and shut the door. If Monroe woke up, he would think Nick was just reviewing notes on a case, like he sometimes did when he couldn’t sleep.
He pulled on a pair of gloves and opened the bags he’d left on his desk after bringing in the groceries; one from the bookstore, and one with packaging envelopes from the post office. Then there was the battered case under his desk, dusted with wolvesbane so Monroe wouldn’t smell it, and Nick’s lips curled with something that felt disturbingly like satisfaction as he unlatched the clasp.
Inside were four pieces of a scythe; two halves of a broken handle and two large pieces of a shattered blade, all flecked with blood. Stupid man had been newer than Nick when it came to his inheritance, and had tried to make an attack on Monroe the night after he’d sent his message. He hadn’t been expecting Nick to get to be waiting for him, which had been his biggest-and last-mistake.
The bag from the bookstore contained four identical copies of Brothers Grimm’s Fairytales and on the blank space inside of the cover he carefully penned a note in each.
Dear Friend,
I know how much you love these fairytales, perhaps even relate to them a bit, and decided to give you one as a token of our friendship. It is unfortunate that you will be leaving town soon, but family should always come first, don’t you agree? Remember me fondly and be assured that I will never forget you.
It was signed with an image of a crest: a police badge shield framing a simple howling wolf. He prepared each package with a book and piece of broken scythe, sealed it, and applied the addresses with printed labels.
Finished, he set them out to put in the mail the next morning on his way to work and returned to bed, where Monroe grumbled about cold feet, but didn’t move away. For a moment, he wondered if this was the beginning of a decline into exactly the type of person he didn’t want to be, but one look at Monroe resting peacefully, so different from the paranoia-induced insomnia he’d had right after the attack, and he knew he would do the same thing again if he had to, no regrets.
Monroe sighed, apparently awake, and sleepily palmed Nick’s face. “Dude, stop the creeper eyes and go to sleep. I swear, the things I deal with…” He faded off into mumbles and with an amused snort, Nick did as he was told and joined him in sleep.