Squeak!

Beta: Ever_Obsessed (LJ)

Characters + Pairing: Nick/Monroe

Rating: PG (completely juvenile silliness, a mention of a gun and alcohol.)

Summary: Nick bugs Monroe with a squeaky toy. ~400 words, crack fic.

The ebony haired, pale detective knocked on the door, his hand behind his back holding a small paper bag.

The door promptly swung open, revealing a jovial bearded Blutbad. "Hey, Nick. Come on in!"

Closing the door behind him, Nick brought the bag to Monroe's view. The clock mender eyed the bag suspiciously. He looked up to Nick, his furled brows meeting the man's eyes. Slowly, he inquired, "...What is that?"

Nick opened the bag slightly, peering down. He laughed, crumpling the top.

"Nick?" Monroe tilted his head slightly. With no response, he nervously continued, "That's not... Like a gun or a bottle of some whiskey, is it?"

The Grimm carried the bag into the living room. Monroe curiously trailed behind.

"It smells like polyester and cotton... Is it a scarf?"

Nick sat, shaking his head. "No."

Baffled, Monroe sat across from him. Tortured, he groaned, "What is it? Please, Nick?"

The younger man smiled, opening the bag again and reaching into it. He grabbed it. It let out a loud, ear piercing squeak that reverberated through the Blutbad's house.

"No, no, no. You didn't! Oh! I hate you so much, Nick!"

Monroe made grabs for the bag. Nick swung it out of his reach. After a few more attempted swipes, Monroe attempted to relax, pinning his arms to his sides. "I'm not a dog, Nick. I'm a Blutbad."

"But you want the toy. It's a blue toy," the mischievous man paused. "A cat."

Monroe flared his nostrils. He gritted his teeth. "Oh god, I want the toy. Please, Nick."

Nick brought the bag within the bearded man's reach. The Blutbad snatched the bag. Tearing it apart, he dragged out the blue cat toy with his teeth. Tags still attached, he violently swung it around, drowning out every clock's tick with loud squeaks. A few minutes and several partial transitions later, cotton fibers sprayed everywhere. The squeaking continued for a few more minutes until it broke down into wild clacking.

Monroe spit out the broken plastic squeaker. Heaving breaths, he slowly drew his attention to the highly entertained Grimm.

"Why do I let you in my house?"

Nick, standing, replied, "Don't worry. I'll sweep."