Epic, A Grimm story by BymagaJones 16/?

[bymagajones]

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

After his third turn around Roddy to get to the dishwasher, Monroe wiped his soapy hands on a nearby towel and gently took the young man by the shoulders, maneuvering him beside Hanson on the island. He grabbed the orange juice from Gracie, pouring it into a glass and handing it to her. Still nodding at Roddy’s story about playing a solo in class, he hip-checked Roddy from in front of the fridge, replacing the orange juice and pulling out some packages wrapped in paper.

“Hold on a second, Roddy,” he said, turning to face the crew. He stared at Grace. “I’ll need you off the now unhygienic counter, please.” She grinned, hopping down. “Thank you. I’ll make you a deal. Everyone go into the living room and put on a movie, and I’ll make sandwiches.”

Barry looked suspicious. “With meat?”

“Of course with meat!” Monroe realized he sounded scandalized about what was actually a good question. “Everyone but Roddy out into the living room!”

Once everyone had left and he heard the sound of the television, he returned his attention back to Roddy, interrupting here and there with a question about which deli meat Roddy preferred or if he wanted tomatoes or spinach leaves, mayo or mustard on his sandwich.

“We’ll have to duet again,” Roddy said enthusiastically. “You’ll see how much better I’ve gotten.”

It wasn’t until then that Monroe remembered his hands. The shaking seemed to have subsided, but his nails hadn’t grown back. He hadn’t played in over two years; heck, he didn’t even have an instrument anymore. He stared down at his hands, these foreign parts of his body, and stumbled, “I… uh…”

“Hey, Monroe. The kids are getting restless. Barry just saw a pizza commercial, and now he’s drooling on our new sofa.”

Trying not to give Nick a hearty look of thanks, Monroe shoved Roddy’s plate in his hand. “I guess sandwiches wait for no man,” he said, smiling to cover his nervousness.

“Or Jägerbar,” Roddy laughed, taking the plate and walking into the living room.

Monroe had felt Nick leaning against the wall, just watching, and he pictured his Grimm just smiling smugly, silently watching Grace slide her butt on the counter and Hanson drink directly from the juice container. In the back of his mind, he’d been preparing a rant for later when the kids had left, but it all faded when Nick saved him from having to talk to Roddy about playing a duet. He finally turned, unsurprised to see the folded arms. The smug smile was nowhere to be seen, but the care and concern he saw in Nick’s eyes made his face grow warm.

“Roddy said you’re ready for me?” Barry’s swagger broke the moment, and Monroe turned back to the sandwich fixings he’d lain out by the sink.

Everyone piled into Barry’s car a little after midnight (“It’s Friday!” Holly explained.), and an exhausted Monroe piled the dishes into the sink. He’d forgotten to start the dishwasher, so it was already filled with dirty dishes, and frankly, he was too tired to do more than put the packet of cleanser in the dishwasher, turn it on, and follow Nick upstairs.

He trudged into the bathroom and walked into his bedroom, forgoing the overhead light for the floor lamp next to the bed that Nick had bought on his way home, saying that he was tired of having to get up to turn off the light. He quickly changed into his pajamas, tightening the drawstring on his pants as Nick wandered in, rubbing his hair as he yawned.

Sliding underneath the covers on his side of the bed, Nick said, “Tonight was good, right?”

“Yeah,” Monroe admitted, joining Nick and automatically turning toward the Grimm. “It was nice to see Roddy too.”

“I think Oberlin’s doing him some good.”

“He’s made some friends,” Monroe allowed, pressing his forehead to Nick’s.

Nick pulled back. “What’s with the tone?”

“I didn’t have a tone,” Monroe said.

“What?” Nick knew him too well, damnit.

Monroe sighed. “Did you see how closely he and Barry were sitting on the sofa?”

Nick frowned, obviously thinking back.

“Something’s going on there.”

“Something like –”

“Something like hanky panky.”

Nick laughed. “You sound like you’re eighty.”

“You laugh, but I knew something was going on the way Barry talked about him the other day. I just didn’t know exactly what.”

“Let’s say Barry and Roddy have a thing,” Nick allowed. “Would it be so bad?”

“It won’t work.”

Nick pulled back a little further, and Monroe found himself missing the warmth. “Why not?”

“Roddy still has two and a half years left at college, and who knows what’ll happen after that. He could play in an orchestra, travel…. There are so many options. I don’t want him to settle down here and do nothing with his music just so he can be with Barry.”

“Wow. You already have them married. Maybe they’re just experimenting.”

Monroe realized maybe he was making more of it than it might be, but he saw the way they were looking at each other. “Maybe,” he said grudgingly.

“Is that really the problem, or is it something else?”

Confused, Monroe asked, “Like what?”

Nick sat up and pulled himself back until he was leaning against the headboard. The sheets pooled around his hips, and Monroe found himself a little distracted, wishing it had been too warm for him to wear a t-shirt to bed. “Do you have a problem with two men getting together?”

That blunt question shot Monroe back into the present, and he almost laughed at the question. Here he sat, in bed with another man, imagining that man shirtless, and he was being asked if he were a homophobe? Indignant, he pushed himself up and turned toward Nick. “Of course not!”

“What about the fact that Roddy’s a Reinigen and Barry’s a Jägerbar?”

“I’m not gonna lie and say that their families and friends are going to do cartwheels if they get together, but seriously, it’s more that they’re heading in two different directions. Roddy told me tonight that his goal is to one day become a member of the Vienna Philharmonic, and they only take musicians from the State Opera Orchestra. And even then, he has to’ve played for a minimum of three years for the opera and ballet just to ask to apply! Even now he’s working on a complicated flow chart detailing the steps he’s going to take in order to make this happen. That kind of dedication can be hell on a mature, established relationship, forget about boys as young as they are. I just don’t want Roddy to give up on his dreams for a teenage boyfriend.”

Nick shifted, making himself a little more comfortable, crossing his arms. “Isn’t that his decision to make?”

“Of course it is, but you know what it’s like when you’re a teenager, all hormones and bloodlust. Well,” Monroe amended, “all hormones at least. You think you’re the only person who’s ever felt so much, and let’s face it, Roddy’s not all that experienced, which means that everything is going to feel that much more serious to him.

“And I’m also worried about Barry,” Monroe continued before Nick could do more than open his mouth, “How’s he going to feel once he realizes that there’s no square in the flow chart where his name fits?”

Nick realized that they were getting way too involved in Barry and Roddy’s lives, and he didn’t even know why he was so upset, but he couldn’t let it go. “Maybe Roddy can find a square for Barry.” He glared at Monroe’s snort. “I don’t know why you refuse to even entertain the idea that they might have something more than a teenage flirtation.”

“I remember what it was like at that age.”

“For you. Maybe they’re different!”

“But they probably aren’t!”

Nick glared at Monroe. “Why are we arguing about this?”

“I have no idea!”

Nick wasn’t sure whose lip curled first, but the next thing he knew, they were laughing.

“Just promise that you won’t try to break them up,” Nick said, forcing himself to uncross his arms.

“I wouldn’t do that!” Monroe glared.

“You just seemed to feel so strongly about it.” Nick persisted, despite the fact that a part of him was shouting for him to shut up before he found himself trying to sleep alone in his own bed.

“You know me,” Monroe sighed. “I talk a big game, but I’ll end up making food for their reception or something.”

“And they’re back to getting married,” Nick said, grinning to take the sting out of his words. “I think the problem is that despite everything, you’re a romantic at heart.”

“You’re the one who’s pulling for them.”

“But you’re the one who keeps taking them from a potential flirtation to getting married, like that’s the natural progression. And you’ve done it twice.”

“How much did you drink tonight?” Monroe asked. “Did you fall and hit your head?”

“You’re just a softie on the inside,” Nick teased, “a marshmallow.”

“Perhaps we should get you a CT scan. When was your last psychiatric evaluation?”

“A big, sticky, gooey, melted marshmallow,” Nick continued blithely.

“I’m going to call Drew tomorrow and get a recommendation.”

Suddenly things weren’t so funny anymore. “You mean he’s not just a furniture expert who can appreciate your forks?”

Monroe blinked.

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

Nick slid back down until he was prone and closed his eyes. “I have a long day tomorrow, better get some sleep.” He tried to ignore the feel of Monroe’s eyes on him.

“Are you – you’re jealous!”

Nick snorted. “Of Wu? Please.” He sounded lame even to his own ears.

His body automatically relaxed once he heard the click of the lamp and the feel of Monroe’s body lying down next to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to roll over, press himself against Monroe as he did every other night.

“Wu didn’t rescue me from the bad Grimm or have his ex-partner buy him a house so I’d have a place to live,” Monroe said quietly in the darkness. “He’s a good guy, but he’s not my best friend.”

Sighing, Nick rolled over. “I’m not jealous.”

“Yeah, well, you don’t need to be is all I’m saying. I mean, it’s nice to have someone to talk to about stuff that you don’t care about, but he’s just a human.”

Nick smiled in the darkness, pressed closer to Monroe. He told himself that he hadn’t needed to hear the words, but he couldn’t lie to himself that it hadn’t felt good.

The next day Nick found himself calling the cops when he discovered his skip dead in the alley behind the man’s favorite bar. Hank and Wu arrived a few minutes later; at Hank’s prodding, Nick ended up calling Monroe.

“His name’s Phillip. I knew him,” Monroe said, surprise in his voice as he bent down over the body. “I mean, we weren’t friends or anything, but he was okay for a Pflichttreue. He and I attended the same weider support group before I left.” He looked up at Nick. “And he was the guy you were hunting down?”

Nick nodded, showing Monroe the list of charges. “He’d gotten into some pretty dangerous stuff.”

“I guess a lot can happen in two years,” Monroe conceded, reading the sheet.

Hank walked up to them, and Nick said, “Monroe says the guy was a Pfffl, a Pflick – ”

“A Pflickttreue,” Monroe said.

Hank blinked. “Gesundheit.”

Nick coughed back a laugh as Monroe rolled his eyes. “Do you remember anything about him?”

Monroe frowned, scratching at his cheek. “He was dating someone else from the group. Her name was… Lyla? Layla? Lana! All I remember was that she worked at the First Federal Bank.”

Hank nodded, taking notes.

“That was two years ago,” Monroe warned.

“It’s a start,” Hank said. “Do you smell anything special?” He didn’t look at Nick, who was glaring at him.

Monroe shook his head. “My sense of smell hasn’t really been the same in a while. I mean, I can still smell Drew’s cologne, and that other guy uses way too much hair crème, but I can only detect a faint scent from Phillip. And I can’t tell you who else might have been around lately.” He shrugged. “Sorry.”

Hank squeezed Monroe’s shoulder, saying, “I guess we’ll actually have to do our jobs then. And I should be the one apologizing to you for having to smell Wu from way over here.” He looked at Nick, see, I can handle things delicately, thank you very much, before turning and heading toward Wu, who was talking with Skip, the medical examiner.

Bending over the body, Nick took a closer look at the bloody scratches running from the shoulders down to the knees. “Do those look like they could’ve come from a Jägerbar claw?”

Monroe bent beside him, tilting his head. “I guess.” He bent closer, taking a large sniff. He closed his eyes, and stilled.

Beginning to get a bit worried, Nick grabbed his arm. “Hey, you okay?”

Monroe blinked, straightening. “Sorry. He smelled kind of, um, there for a moment.” He coughed.

“More proof that the Blutbad’s coming back, right?” Nick said, trying for supportive.

“I guess,” Monroe said, in a tone that Nick couldn’t decifer. “But you’re right. I do smell a faint – just a touch – of Jägerbar.” He gave Nick an appraising look. “Pretty impressive, Grimm.”

Smiling, as he stood, Nick said, “I’ve learned a fair bit these last few years.”

Monroe jerked his attention back to the body, nodding.

“Hey – ” He didn’t have to be a mind reader to understand the look on Monroe’s face. “I had Hank, Renard, and Wu watching my back, and Bud helped me out sometimes too. I did okay on my own.”

“You kind of had to,” Monroe said.

“I thought we put all of that behind us,” Nick said.

“I’m trying,” Monroe admitted.

After pulling Monroe upright, Nick walked him back to his car. “We got distracted last night, and I forgot to ask you about your call to the diner guy.” Nick had noticed Monroe’s quiet step outside while the kids screamed back to some movie they’d put on the television.

“He wanted to meet with me this morning, said he had a proposal for me.” Monroe leaned against his new car, flipping his keys around in his hand.

“When are you meeting him?”

“About an hour and a half ago,” Monroe said, smiling faintly. “He finally realized that he might have given Tony a little too much to handle.”

“So, what? He wanted your advice?”

“Actually,” Monroe looked down for a second before looking back up at Nick, “he offered me a job.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He wants me to be the manager.”

“Wow.” Nick went for noncommittal, trying to gauge Monroe’s reaction.

“It’d be a lot of work at first, because, you know, Tony’s not even a good cook yet. And I’d have a lot to learn, what with ordering food and reworking the menu and doing scheduling. I’d have to do most of the cooking until I trained Tony properly and found at least two other cooks…” He sighed. “Who am I kidding? What do I know about the restaurant business?”

There it was, the look in his eyes that said Monroe wanted the job. “You were able to help out Tony by just giving him some pointers that one day,” Nick said, wrapping his hand around Monroe’s wrist. “You can do the job; the question is, do you want to do it?”

“It would be a challenge, and I’m not used to just sitting around…”

“What about your clocks?”

Monroe sighed. “I just don’t have the concentration right now. And my hands.” He held them up, Nick’s hand still wrapped around one wrist.

“I haven’t seen them shaking lately,” Nick offered.

“That’s gotten better,” Monroe confirmed.

Nick held up the one of Monroe’s hands, staring at it. He loved how gentle Monroe’s large fingers could be when handling delicate pieces of machinery in his clocks, and even the strange puckers of skin in the nail beds didn’t detract from the beauty of the hidden strength. He pulled the hands closer, focusing on one of the fingers. “Is that part of a nail?”

“What? Where?” Monroe jerked his hand towards his face, bringing Nick along for the ride, until they pressed against each other, staring at the sliver barely peeking at them. “You think that’s a nail?”

“I do!”

They stared at each other, grinning, pressed against each other, holding hands, until the sound of Hank’s clearing his voice reminded them of their surroundings.

Nick stepped back reluctantly, already missing the warmth of Monroe’s body.

“We’re gonna head back to the precinct.”

“Let me call Maddy so she knows what happened to her skip, and I’ll meet you there to do the paperwork,” Nick said, ignoring Hank’s grin. Turning back to Monroe, he said, “We’ll talk more at dinner?”

“Sure. We also have to finish walking for the… you know,” Monroe said.

Sighing, Nick said, “I’ll get more beer.”

After saying goodbye to Nick and Hank, Monroe got into his purple car, waved at Wu on his way out, and disappeared down the street.

“So…” Hank said, still staring down the street, “still peeing around the property, are you?”

Nick sighed. “I tell you way too much, you know that?”


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