Epic, A Grimm story by BymagaJones 14/?

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

The next day, Monroe awakened from a deep sleep to find himself alone in bed. He stretched, feeling light and relaxed, his mind slowly coming online. It took a full two minutes before he remembered his breakdown the night before, and he shot up in bed, groaning as he ran a hand over his face. He’d been exhausted afterward, following Nick upstairs like some sort of dazed puppy. They’d stopped at the bathroom, Nick sitting Monroe down on the toilet and wiping Monroe’s face with a tenderness that had Monroe’s eyes once again welling up with tears. The coolness of the damp washcloth soothed him, and he allowed Nick to pull him into Monroe’s bedroom. Monroe gently pushed Nick’s hands aside and took off his own clothes until he was just wearing his t-shirt and boxers. Nick had disrobed a little faster and had pulled back Monroe’s blankets, pushing Monroe into the bed and climbing in behind him.

Monroe had turned to face Nick, watching the moonlight shine in his eyes, and he wanted to say something, maybe thank you or I’m sorry, but he’d laid himself so bare that he didn’t know if he had any words left.

Nick had simply smiled at him, entangling their legs and pressing their foreheads together before closing his eyes with a sigh.

Monroe had closed his eyes as well and fallen into the first restful sleep he’d had in years.

Now that he was awake and alone, the morning sun shining into his room, Monroe groaned in mortification at how he’d behaved the night before. Blutbads didn’t sob onto their friends’ shoulders, didn’t docilely climb the stairs and fall into bed like some sort of child. How embarrassing.

It was done, he finally reminded himself, and today was delivery day. His phone sat on the windowsill, and he found himself smiling fondly when he realized that Nick must’ve left it there for him. After checking the time, he took a quick shower and ran down the stairs for a cup of coffee – which he didn’t quite get to before the doorbell rang with the first delivery.

He had his hands full the rest of the day with the living room set delivery and the cable guy, finally stopping to breathe around four that afternoon. His stomach growling, he headed into the kitchen to grab something quick to eat, only to be distracted by the arrival of the bedroom dressers and then the arrival of the patio furniture. Sighing internally, Monroe pointed to the patio door for two men and led the other two men upstairs to show them where he wanted the dressers placed.

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Nick had wanted to call Monroe all day, but he knew that Monroe would probably be busy directing furniture deliveries and checking cable and Internet connections. Monroe wasn’t the type to bare his soul, and Nick was worried that he was at the house regretting what had happened last night.

For his part, Nick was glad that Monroe had finally let it out. He knew that it didn’t magically make everything okay, but it was a step in the right direction. He wanted Monroe to feel safe with him, to feel like he could share anything with Nick and know he’d get support. So he focused on finding a couple of bail jumpers who looked like they might still be in town and resolved to get home as soon as he could.

He walked through the door a little after seven that night, muddy from having tackled a Klaustreich who’d been hiding out at his third girlfriend’s house. It took him a second to realize that the living room was now filled with an oversized sofa and matching chairs curving around a really elegant looking coffee table resting on a large carpet.

“This looks fantastic!” He said, turning to see the large television mounted on the wall, a small dark brown wooden entertainment center resting underneath it to contain the cable box and what looked like a DVD player and stereo.

“Everything look comfortable enough?” Monroe asked, the uncertainty in his eyes belying his snarky tone. Nick turned his attention to the overstuffed brown sofa with matching oversized chair, and Monroe added, “It’s leather, so it’ll grow softer and more supple in time, but the color shouldn’t fade. It’s tough, so it’ll be able to handle the kids with their sneakers and sodas and pizzas when they come over. And, you know, it breathes, so it’ll stay cool in the summer and warm in the winter.” He seemed to realize he was babbling as he took a breath and held it for a minute.

“Leather sounds perfect,” Nick said. “And I like the color.”

“I never really thought that black had a lot of depth; white gets dirty too easily. And of course red was out.”

“Of course,” Nick agreed.

“But I thought that the dark brown was a nice choice. We have forty-eight hours to change our minds, so…”

“Monroe, you made the perfect choice.”

“Of course I did,” Monroe sniffed, obviously pleased.

“Obviously, I’m gonna have to try out everything,” Nick said, “but I have to admit that it’s nice not to hear the echoes of my footsteps anymore.”

He made a move toward the sofa, but Monroe jumped in front of him. “You’re not getting mud over the new furniture,” Monroe declared. “Shoes off, and go upstairs.” Nick rolled his eyes but followed directions, hearing Monroe shout, “And take a shower while you’re up there!”

Nick came back downstairs after washing a disturbing amount of mud from places that should’ve been protected by clothing. After throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper Monroe had put inside the bathroom closet, he’d changed into sweats and a pair of thick socks, and one of his favorite, though threadbare, t-shirts. Following the noise, he found Monroe out in the chilly deck, putting together a chair. “The delivery men didn’t put this together?”

Monroe shook his head. “This way was cheaper. They aren’t that difficult, and once I did the first one, I haven’t had any problems with the others.”

“Can I help?”

Monroe gave one last twist of the screwdriver in his hand and stood, pressing a hand against his lower back. “That was it,” he said, sighing and looking around. His stomach grumbled loudly and he shot a guilty look toward Nick. “Sorry.”

“No lunch?” Nick said lightly, leading the way back inside the house.

“Umm, no,” Monroe said after a moment.

Nick looked at him reproachfully.

“What? I had delivery people with damaged chair legs, the Internet guy trying to do something creative because the signal isn’t strong enough out here or something. I had a guy trying to put both dressers in your bedroom despite the specific instructions I gave him.” Monroe sighed. “It’s been a day.”

“How about I make dinner?” Nick suggested, walking toward the kitchen.

“I don’t remember buying any frozen dinners,” Monroe said, following him.

“Very funny,” Nick said dryly, blocking Monroe from entering the kitchen. “Go back into the living room, lie down on that comfortable looking sofa, and turn on the TV. I got this.”

“But you don’t know where – ” Monroe started, looking nervous.

“And you’ll be right there in the living room for me to ask,” Nick said, turning Monroe around and giving him a little push. “Go.”

After one more worried look, Monroe headed over to the sofa.

Nick had scoped out the kitchen a little bit before leaving for work that morning, tossing Monroe’s congealed dinner into the trash, so he had a better idea of where Monroe had placed the dishes. He knew he had everything he needed for a simple pasta dish he used to make for him and Juliette. Deciding to brew a pot of decaf, he pulled out the coffee machine’s carafe, surprised to find it just as heavy as when he’d left it that morning. He noted the lack of dishes in the sink and pulled open the dishwasher to confirm his suspicions.

Fifteen minutes later, dinner was ready. “Do you want to eat in the living room or in the dining room?” Nick hadn’t had a chance for more than a casual glance in the dining room, but he’d spotted a table and a few chairs.

“Living room,” Monroe suggested, walking into the kitchen. “I’m not in love with the dining room, and one of the classic channels is airing a ‘Starsky and Hutch’ episode I don’t think I’ve seen.”

“Really? ‘Starsky and Hutch’?” Nick teased, but they both knew that he also enjoyed watching the show.

Nick handed Monroe the plates and then grabbed a couple of beers, twisting off the caps, before heading back into the living room. He sat on the sofa, groaning in pleasure as the soft – yet firm – leather greeted him. “Now this is what I’m talking about,” he said happily.

Monroe took his plate off the coffee table, doing a terrible job of trying to look enthusiastic. He did a double-take at the mound of food on his plate compared to Nick’s.

Keeping his eyes on the television but his focus on the man beside him, Nick said evenly, “I gave you more since you haven’t eaten all day.”

Monroe turned slightly toward Nick, opening his mouth.

“I may not still have the badge, but once a detective, always a detective,” Nick said.

It only took a second before Monroe leaned back with a sigh. “It wasn’t intentional. It feels like I blinked, and there you were, walking through the door.”

“You’re still healing,” Nick reminded him. “You need to keep up your strength.”

“I know,” Monroe said.

They remained silent for a few minutes before Monroe added, “I kind of got out of the habit of eating regularly. In Alaska, I’d just grab something when I felt hungry, and once I was taken, they’d just kind of throw chunks of meat in my cage.”

Nick could tell that Monroe wasn’t saying everything, but for now, he just wanted to make sure that Monroe felt full and comfortable and relaxed. “Now you can go back to your weider ways if you want.”

“Yeah,” Monroe sighed distractedly, adjusting his grip on the plate. Bringing it closer to his face, he sniffed delicately, his fork gripped by his nail-less fingers hovering over the food.

Rolling his eyes, Nick said, “It’s just boiled pasta with butter, sage, and cheese. It’s not going to jump up and smack you.”

“I know that,” Monroe said lamely, digging into the dish. He took a taste, paused, and nodded. “This is really good!” He grinned.

It was only then that Nick realized he’d been so focused on Monroe that he’d just been sitting there, stupid grin on his face. He forced himself to pick up his own fork and begin eating.

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Monroe was pleasantly surprised as he dug into the pasta dish Nick had made by himself, acknowledging that he probably needed to stop being such a food snob. He focused on the television, although a part of him remained sensitive to every movement Nick made beside him. He finished his dish in record time, ignoring Nick’s smirk as he rose to get them both seconds. Mindful of other pressing business, he also grabbed another two beers and set them on two coasters on the coffee table.

The program ended, and Monroe took their dishes into the kitchen, smiling at Nick’s softly worded thanks. Putting them into the sink to soak, he called, “Finish up that beer. We have some walking to do.”

“You better bring the rest of the beers then,” Nick called out.

Holding back a chuckle, Monroe started shoving bottles into his various pockets. He managed to hold a bottle between each of this fingers and gingerly walked into the living room. “Ready?”

Nick turned from staring out of the window and laughed, taking the four from Monroe’s left hand and shoving two into each of his front jean pockets. Monroe tried not to stare as Nick awkwardly tried to push one in his back pocket, but the jeans were just too tight. “Hmm, gonna have to hold the rest of these, I guess.”

“Go get your jacket; it’s still cold out there.”

Nick eyeballed Monroe’s strangely hanging chords and his flannel shirt, pockets awkwardly holding more beer. “Maybe I should grab my own flannel shirt. Two more pockets.” After pulling the two bottles out of his pockets and placing them on the coffee table, he bounced up the stairs, and Monroe let out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

He felt like he was splintered into pieces. He’d thought he’d gotten over the dramatics from the night before; turned out, all of the day’s activities had only helped him push them to the back of his mind so they could bide their time. But now he felt the emotions crowd him in the quiet room and headed for the deck, the bottles clinking together in his shaking hands as he awkwardly twisted the latch and practically pushed himself outside.

He barely managed to drop the bottles gently on the small table before falling to his hands and knees. Automatically reaching for the wolf within, he felt something small inside start to unfurl, a familiar stretching in his body. He threw back his head, feeling the howl in his chest, until whatever it was inside grew taut, allowing him no further. He remained there, panting, unable to stand even when he heard Nick thumping down the stairs.

“Monroe!” Nick fell to his knees, his hand warm against Monroe’s back.

“I’m okay,” Monroe said, gasping. He sat back on his haunches, realizing the full impact of what had just occurred. He grinned up at Nick. “It’s coming back.”

Entry with links to each chapter

Epic, A Grimm story by BymagaJones 15/?

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Nick stared at Monroe, confused. He’d come downstairs, happily envisioning a night’s walk with his best friend only to find Monroe on his hands and knees, gasping like he couldn’t catch his breath. The next thing he knew, he was crouched beside the Blutbad, unsure of what he could do to help. And now Monroe sat there, goofy smile on his face. “You woged?”

“No, I’m not there yet. But – ” Monroe’s brow furrowed as he tried to explain himself, something that Nick tried not to consider adorable “ – I felt it inside. The wolf. I felt him in here.” He pressed a fist against his stomach.” He gave a little chuckle, again not adorable, Nick reminded himself. “I’m coming back. I can feel it.” He stretched out his hand. “I don’t know about the nails…”

Nick grasped the shaking hand. “They’ll come back too, just in their own time.”

Monroe’s eyebrows lifted as he smiled. “Now you’re an expert?”

Nick held out his own hands, wiggling his fingers. “I get a mani every week. Can’t you tell?”

Monroe snorted, holding onto the bottles in his shirt pockets as he slowly rose to his feet. “I can’t believe these didn’t fall out.”

“You’re more graceful that I gave you credit for,” Nick teased as he returned to the living room for his beers. Choosing to forego the pockets in his jeans this time in favor of the ones in his jacket and shirt, he returned to Monroe’s side, noting his friend’s straightened posture and happy eyes. Monroe’s goofy grin was infectious, and Nick found himself sending one right back as they walked down the deck stairs and headed toward the fence.

Monroe popped open a beer and handed it to Nick. “Drink up.”

Pulling out one of his own, he handed it to Monroe. “Right back at’cha.” He was prepared for the confused look Monroe shot him. “You really didn’t think I was planning on peeing on nine acres all by myself, did you?”

“But – ” Monroe started.

Nick didn’t give him a chance to continue. “Even if I could drink the copious amount of liquid to enable me to mark that much territory, I’m not the only one who lives here.”

“It’s your –”

“No, it’s our,” Nick said calmly, taking a sip and walking past a frowning Monroe. “Now how does this work? Do I have to just start and walk backwards as I pee or what?”

Monroe rolled his eyes. “Did you ever own a dog?”

Nick grinned, shaking his head. “Aunt Marie wasn’t really fond of pets.”

“I guess that’s not a surprise,” Monroe conceded. “You don’t have to mark every inch, just here and there so your scent covers the area.”

“Can we take turns, or do we need to mix our scents?”

“I can’t talk you out of this?”

Nick ignored Monroe’s plaintive tone and continued to stare at Monroe until the Blutbad sighed and took a sip of beer.

A few hours later, bladders and bottles emptied, they staggered up the deck stairs, leaning on each other for support. Monroe was wiping tears out of his eyes as he continued to laugh as Nick finished his story about an altercation with a visiting Seelengut who’d accidentally gotten separated from the tour group.

“It’s not funny,” Nick said, the smile in his voice belaying his words. “You can’t imagine the bruises those hooves leave.”

“So it was basically a drive-by hoofing?” Monroe leaned against the side of the house as Nick dug in his pocket for the house keys.

Nick shook his head, a corner of his mouth raised. He opened the door, heading straight for the living room.

“Hey, you know that out of everyone, I’m the last to tell you that they aren’t dangerous,” Monroe reminded him, dropping the empty bottles into the recycling bin in the kitchen. “Did you end up having to make an arrest?”

“It finally got through that I was just trying to help, and by the time everything settled, the tour group was back.”

“Let me guess; you ended up being a big hero, saving the poor sheep from being lost forever.” Monroe collapsed beside Nick, leaning against his shoulder.

“I did get some pie,” Nick admitted, enjoying the warmth spreading through his body.

“So what was his name? The bruising Seelengut?”

A brief pause before, “Susanna.”

Monroe’s laughter carried throughout the house.



Two days later, Monroe and Nick finally had Wu and Hank over for dinner.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of wine to bring, so I just brought beer,” Hank said with a grin when Nick opened the door. The former partners looked each other over, grinning as they realized that except for Hank’s jacket, they’d dressed exactly alike – blue jeans, blue button-down shirts under dark blazers.

“Thanks, man,” Nick said, grabbing the beer and leading Hank inside. He took Hank’s coat and hung it on the coat rack Monroe had waxed poetic about finding the day before.

“Wow,” Hank said, whistling at the living room. “This looks fantastic.”

“Thanks to Wu,” Monroe shouted from the kitchen. “He’s a fantastic decorator.”

“Who knew?” Hank said quietly to Nick, no surprise in his voice but a smile on his lips.

“I certainly didn’t,” Monroe chirped as he scuttled around the kitchen, unaware of the look between Hank and Nick.

He heard that? Hank’s look asked.

Nick’s return look said, Yep. Looks like he’s getting his mojo back.

You didn’t tell me he’d lost it. Hank’s look chided Nick.

Not my story to tell, Nick’s face said.

Fair enough, Hank shrugged.

“You two doing that partners reading each other’s minds thing again?” Monroe asked, walking into the room with two spoons.

“Ex partners,” Nick reminded him.

“Technicalities,” Hank said, turning to Monroe. “I brought beer.” He sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re making, but it smells good in here.”

“Thanks! Try this and tell me what you think.” Monroe held a spoon at each man’s mouth.

“Umm,” Nick said, trying to come up with an excuse not to try the greenish creamy looking mixture in front of him.

“I’m the guest, so I think I’ll just wait until you’ve ironed out the bugs,” Hank said.

Rolling his eyes, Monroe said, “It’s not going to make you sick. Just tell me if it needs a little kick.”

“But – ” Nick opened his mouth to form an excuse but found it filled when Monroe simply shoved in the spoon.

“Wow,” Hank said, surprised. “That was kind of unfai –”

Monroe shoved the other spoon into Hank’s mouth.

Nick swallowed, realizing that the mixture was actually quite good. He looked over to Hank, who seemed to be feeling the same way. “Not bad,” he admitted.

“Not bad my ass. That was really good,” Hank said with a smile.

“Great!” Monroe beamed, collecting the spoons in one hand so he could grab the six-pack with his free hand. “I’ll go put these in the fridge.”

Nick grabbed two bottles before Monroe left and tilted his head toward the sofa, and they ambled over, Nick flopping on the couch as Hank walked around the room. “Monroe says that we need a few more things in here.”

“You have a large screen TV and surround sound. What else do you need?”

“I have no idea,” Nick shrugged.

“Maybe a Blu-ray player, or is he gonna get one of those shelves for figurines and stuff?”

“I’m a little afraid to ask,” Nick admitted.

“You don’t seem to mind, though,” Hank said under the clanging of pots and pans.

Nick smiled, enjoying the feel of having a home again and people he loved around him. “I really don’t. It seems to make him happy –”

“ – and if it’ll keep him around, even better,” Hank finished.

Nick held up his bottle in response, and Hank gently knocked against it with his own.

Monroe bustled back into the room with more of the mixture in a large bowl with a platter filled with at least three different types of crackers and chips. He paused at the sound of the doorbell, quickly placing the dishes on the coffee table beside the four saucers and napkins he’d put there earlier. “I’ll get it. Help yourselves to the dip.”

“He seems to be settling in well,” Hank said as Monroe enthusiastically greeted Wu.

Nick’s eyes roved over Monroe’s flannel shirt – grey/blue this time, enjoying the pull of it over Monroe’s shoulders.

The Blutbad had worried over his wardrobe earlier. “I only bought a few flannel shirts and Henleys. I knew we were going to be entertaining; why didn’t I get a blazer?”

“Relax,” Nick had told him, opening his arms to his sides to show off his long-sleeved t-shirt tucked into a pair of jeans. “I’m going for casual, and I’m sure Hank and Wu will do the same.” He didn’t mention the quick chat they’d had at a crime scene earlier that day.

Monroe’s eyes had traveled over Nick like a starving man in front of a delicacy, and Nick’s heart began to pound a little faster. Without realizing it, he’d stepped forward, the urge to get closer to Monroe undeniable.

Hank’s ringing the doorbell had ended the moment, but Nick still felt the warmth of Monroe’s appreciative inspection down to his toes.

Hank cleared his voice, jerking Nick back into the present, and Nick turned to him, words he’d planned on saying forgotten. Hank grinned.

“What?”

“Nothin’,” Hank said quickly, still smiling as he dipped a chip and popped it into his mouth.

“Look at these gorgeous flowers Detective Wu brought!” Monroe smiled brightly as he led Wu into the room.

“Drew please,” Wu said, grinning. He’d dressed up a little for the evening, more than he’d told them earlier, wearing a dark blazer over a turtleneck and dark blue jeans and seemed immune to Nick’s glare. “Hey, guys.” He immediately focused on the food. “That looks good. Scootch over.” He inserted himself on the sofa between Nick and Hank, immediately grabbing a cracker, loading it with dip, and popping it into his mouth. “Mmmm!” He chewed for a moment, swallowed. “Is this the same recipe you e-mailed to me?”

“I tweaked it a bit here and there, but yeah,” Monroe said, ducking his head a little.

“You two’ve been e-mailing each other recipes?” Hank asked, laughing. “Wu, you have too much time on your hands.”

Suddenly Nick didn’t find it very funny. Rationally, he knew that the more attachments Monroe made the tougher he’d find it to leave. But he hadn’t been prepared for the tightness in his chest at the idea of Monroe bonding with someone else. He blinked, realizing that Monroe was looking at him, the smile slowly sliding off his face as he held the vase protectively in front of him.

“Let me jut go put these in water,” Monroe muttered, heading for the kitchen.

“Real slick there,” Hank said, knowing look on his face.

“See, mine didn’t taste anything like this,” Wu complained, completely oblivious.

Monroe returned with a beer for Wu and instructions to chat among themselves while he finished with the final touches for dinner.

After a few seconds, Nick rose with the excuse of grabbing more beers, leaving Wu with his mouth full and Hank asking how he was going to have space for dinner if he kept inhaling the appetizer. He leaned against the wall, watching Monroe pull a large dish out of the oven, oversized oven mitts hampering his movements. Monroe moved with ease, his shoulders relaxed, a small smile on his face. He finally noticed Nick. “Everything okay out there?”

“Just came in to get more beers,” Nick said easily.

Monroe frowned. “I bought a nice Zinfandel that’ll go really nicely with dinner, but maybe they’d prefer the beer.”

Nick shrugged. “We’ll give ‘em the option. I’ll try the Zinfandel, though,” he said, earning himself a grin that made him a little warm. “You need any help?”

“I forgot to put down a second trivet.” Monroe’s eyes focused on the metal stand on the counter. “Can you bring it along with Detec-Drew’s flowers?”

Nick grabbed the items, inspecting the trivet curiously as he trailed after Monroe, sniffing the air. “Hank was right; it does smell really good.”

“I decided to go with hearty instead of fancy,” Monroe said, waiting until Nick had placed the trivet before putting down the blue casserole dish beside a white dish. “I made shepherd’s pie, with and without meat, with a few additional ingredients.” He took the vase and adjusted it in the middle of the table, sliding it around until he was satisfied with its placement. Standing back, he observed the room.

“What’s wrong?” Nick could tell that Monroe wasn’t happy, but everything looked fine to him.

“I don’t like the table.” Monroe sighed. “But there’s nothing I can do about it right now.”

Granted, Nick couldn’t see much of it underneath the dark brown tablecloth, but it looked fine to him. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s not right for the house,” Monroe muttered before turning away. “Can you get the guys while I go grab those beers?”

“Sure,” Nick said, uncertain about how to react to the table but happy that Monroe didn’t seem to expect a response from him about it. He leaned into the living room to find Hank holding the mostly empty dish of crackers away from Wu, who seemed ready to climb over his partner to reach it. Shaking his head and chuckling, he said, “dinner’s ready,” and left them to detangle themselves.

Of course Monroe had place cards, Nick thought with a smile as he sat across from Hank. Wu sat to his left, leaving Monroe closest to the kitchen. Monroe returned with two beers, but to his obvious pleasure, everyone decided on trying the wine. Nick poured as Monroe explained, “I made shepherd’s pie. The blue dish contains lamb; the white is vegetarian. I figured the pie had enough vegetables that none of you would be upset if we didn’t have a salad with it –” He smiled at Hank and Wu emphatically shook their heads in agreement. “Nick, if you wouldn’t mind.”

It only took Nick a second to realize that Monroe wanted him to start moving the food around the table. Grabbing the blue dish, he scooped up a generous amount and passed it to Wu. He then took the white and added a little more, passing that one along as well and earning him another smile from Monroe. Wu and Hank also took a little of the vegetarian, Hank grinning at Nick. He smiled at Wu and I too, you know.

Nick stared, unimpressed, at Hank. I didn’t see you pouring the wine.

Hank took a deliberate sip and said, “this is really good.”

“It’s a 2000 Clos LaChance Twin Rivers Vineyard Zinfandel,” Monroe explained. “I find that it goes really well with shepherd’s pie.”

“It totally does,” Wu chimed in. He looked around, frowning. “The table doesn’t really go with the room like I thought it would.”

“I know, right?” Monroe said, obviously delighted that Wu agreed with him. “I was just telling Nick that I don’t like it.”

“That’s my fault,” Wu said to Nick. “I was sure it was perfect.”

Hank peeked underneath the table, then sat up and looked at the top. “What’s wrong with it?”

Nick’s eyes widened as he gave a subtle shrug.

“It doesn’t work. I don’t like its size,” Monroe explained.

Wu nodded. “It doesn’t fit in here.”

“We only had forty eight hours to return it. I should’ve tried out the room earlier.” Monroe turned an apologetic frown to Nick.

As much as he hated the bonding Monroe and Wu seemed to be doing, Nick turned to Wu for help. The table looked fine to him. Sure, it felt a little small, only seating four, but he figured it he and Monroe would eat most of the time in the living room in front of the TV.

“I still have Danita’s number; I’ll give her a call in the morning, see what I can work out,” Wu promised.

“Thanks,” Monroe said, pleased.

Wu waved a hand. “She should be giving me a commission considering all of the business I’ve turned her way lately.”

Once again, Nick felt the tendrils of jealousy and didn’t like the feeling one bit. He hadn’t been prepared for it and wasn’t sure how to react.

“There’re a couple of places that’ll custom make a table for you if you can’t find anything you like,” Hank chimed in, smiling smugly as Nick glared at him.

Monroe seemed to sense some tension, because he thanked Hank and changed the subject. “I’ve been wondering.” He turned to Nick. “You and Hank use each other’s first names, but you still call Drew, ‘Wu’.”

“Well, yeah,” Nick said, distracted as he took a bite. “Monroe, this is absolutely fantastic!”

“Thanks!” Monroe beamed. “So when do you start calling him Drew?”

“What do you mean?” Hank asked, scooping up another large forkful and shoving it into his mouth.

“I’m guessing he was Wu because he was a sergeant and you two were detectives. But now he’s a detective too, so shouldn’t everyone be calling him Drew?”

Nick frowned, looking at Hank, who was also looking a little thoughtful. “I never really thought about it.”

Monroe turned to Hank. “Did they ever just call you ‘Griffin’?”

“Yeah,” Hank said, “but I don’t remember exactly when they started calling me Hank instead. It had to have been after I’d made detective…”

Monroe turned to Nick, who said, “Same here.” He’d never really thought about it before, but he looked at Wu and couldn’t imagine ever calling the man, ‘Drew’, uniform or no.

Wu laughed. “I wouldn’t think I’d answer if either of them tried that. I’m used to Wu, at least as far as these schmoes are concerned.”

“You could introduce yourself as Drew to the new cops,” Monroe suggested.

“Newbies get to call me, ‘Detective Wu,” Wu said pertly. He blinked. “I almost forgot. I ran into your short order cook a few hours ago.” He pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Monroe.

Automatically taking the paper, Monroe frowned, asking, “When did I get a short order cook?”

“The kid from the diner,” Wu said. “The apples and onions guy dating the waitress.” He looked at Hank. “We went to this diner for lunch the day we bought the furniture, and it turns out that Monroe had been working a little love magic on the coworkers.”

“Brenda and Tony,” Monroe reminded Nick.

“Wow,” Nick said, sitting back as he remembered that Brenda had been trying to catch Monroe’s eye when they’d eaten there. He found that he liked the idea of Brenda and Tony together. He watched Monroe unfold the paper and stare at it. “What does it say?”

“Evidently his dad wants me to give him a call,” Monroe said, brow furrowed.

“Probably wants to thank you for cutting down on the potential poisoning lawsuits,” Wu said, licking his fork. “Hey, I like these forks.”

Monroe brightened. “I thought they had a nice balance.”

Wu waved it in the air in front of him. “They really do. I like the tines, too.”

“I was trying to decide between…”

Hank looked at Nick, mouthing, “Tines?”

Nick just shook his head. Seriously. Don’t ask.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Hank said, not sounding sorry at all, “but does the note say what the guy wants to talk to you about?”

“No, it just asks that I call him and that he works late so I can call up to midnight if it’s convenient.”

The rest of dinner passed quickly, without any awkward moments when they mentioned events that’d happened in the last few years. Nick had been a little worried about that, but he figured it was something they were going to have to deal with at some point anyway. Might as well do it with friends.

They took dessert outside on the patio, Monroe bringing out a warmed apple pie with their choice of vanilla or chocolate ice cream. They sat in the coolness, enjoying the dessert in relative silence.

The detectives had to work the next day, so after a quick tour of the basement (Wu to Monroe: “Obviously, this is our next project after we fix that dining room table.” Hank to Nick: “If you want this as your man-cave, you need to get on it before those two find the perfect table and move on to this room.”), Hank and Wu thanked Nick and Monroe for the dinner and departed.

“I thought that went well,” Monroe said as he cleaned the dishes before handing them to Nick.

“It was fun,” Nick agreed, loading the dishwasher. “And your food was a success.”

“No leftovers,” Monroe said, tilting the empty white casserole dish. “Not even the vegetarian.”

The door rang, and Nick immediately tensed, looking at a stilled Monroe. “I’m sure it’s probably Hank or Wu, realizing that they forgot something.”

Monroe nodded, whispering. “You have your gun, though, right?”

“Not on me,” Nick said, holding out his arms. He turned toward the door.

“Nick!” Monroe whispered.

Nick turned around to find Monroe holding out a large black skillet. He must’ve given Monroe a look, because Monroe said, “Hey, it’s better than nothing. Just be careful, because I’ve started seasoning it.”

Nick rolled his eyes and grabbed the skillet, adjusting his grip once he realized how heavy it was. He revised his sarcastic opinion of Monroe’s choice and peered through the peephole, relaxing once he saw Barry’s eyeball looking back at him.

He unlocked and opened the door. “Hey, Barry.”

“Nick! Guess who just got home!” He stepped aside, and Roddy stepped up, smiling.

“Hey!” Nick reached out and gave the Reinigen a one-armed hug. “How’s college treating you?”

“It’s going really good,” Roddy said. “I thought I’d come say hi to Monroe unless, you know, it’s a bad time.”

“No! Come on in.” Nick stepped back and let the two through. “He’s in the kitchen.”

Barry led the way, nodding as they passed through the living room. “That sofa looks way more comfortable than the floor.”

“Monroe’s been busy,” Nick agreed.

Roddy had just escaped from Monroe’s hearty hug when Nick heard another knock on the door.

“That’s probably the rest of them,” Roddy said, opening up the refrigerator and sticking his head inside.

Nick’s eyes immediately met Monroe’s and they smiled at each other before Nick turned and opened the door for the rest of the kids. He waved at Holly’s mom as she pulled away.

“Hey, Nick!” Hanson bumped fists with Nick as he and Gracie slipped past. Holly grinned, pulled behind Gracie as they held hands.

He returned to the kitchen after locking the door to find the place filled with noise and movement. Barry was telling Monroe about college while continuing to stand between Monroe and the dishwasher, while Roddy complained that all he saw were fruits and vegetables and there had to be pizza or chips or something edible somewhere in the kitchen. Hanson was drinking orange juice from the container – obviously behind an oblivious Monroe’s back – and Grace sat on the counter beside him, waiting her turn. Holly slowly sidled toward Monroe, sniffing and looking a little confused.

Nick just leaned against the wall, smiling at his strange little family.


Entry with links to each chapter