The weekend turned out to be nasty weatherwise. Sleet and hail made it uncomfortable to be outside, and the iced over roads annihilated all thoughts of driving anywhere.
Not that either man wanted to.

Nick lay on the couch, comfortably watching a game, and Monroe was wrapping up two client projects to mail them the next time the weather let up and he could go to the post office.

"Could you draw me a picture of the regnant you saw?"

The sudden question had the blutbad look up from taping closed a box that contained a very expensive piece of antique clockwork.

"Why?"

Nick turned his head to look at him, the pale features thoughtful. "Maybe he is in the books. Maybe under another name, I looked at so many different creatures, maybe someone drew him and just labeled him differently."

"Nick, I can barely draw a believable stick figure!"

"Then tell me."

"You can draw?"

He shrugged. "Seems to be a Grimm talent."

Monroe huffed a little laugh and put the box aside. "You have many."

"And you haven't complained so far," came the sly reply.

The blutbad walked over to the couch and, moving so lithely and fast it was clearly not human, straddled the supine man. Nick laughed and answered the kiss, an arm around the broad shoulder, pulling Monroe to him.

"You really want to see my art?" he teased.

"Hm, yeah." Nick reached up with his other hand, caressing his face. "Among other things."

"What does it take to sex you out?" came the grousing complaint.

"I'm young and virile. Get used to it."

Nick yelped when Monroe playfully nipped at his neck, tiny pinpricks of fangs showing. He bared his throat a little, just enough to get an interesting sheen of red, and the Grimm responded, eyes slate gray and challenging.

Monroe rumbled softly, brows drawn down, eyes intense. He pinned Nick's hands and attacked his mouth again.

Screw the drawing, Nick thought dizzily as he arched into the kiss. This could wait.

He couldn't.

The kiss turned into a battle of wills, for dominance, for more. Nick had grown pretty adept at sliding his tongue past the sharp teeth and the prickle of fangs was rather thrilling. He mock-struggled against the hold Monroe had on him and it resulted in an annoyed growl.

He grinned, rising to the bait, to the challenge, and the red eyes flared brighter. Nick raised his brows, a silent invitation and question in one, and Monroe shuddered.

"I want you," he said out loud.

It was like the final blessing and the blutbad took his mouth in a rough kiss, pushing forward, demanding, claiming.

Nick groaned softly. "Clothes," he whispered fervently when they separated. "And no, no claws."

It got him a terrifying smile of all teeth and all wolf.

But Monroe looked very, very pleased when the Grimm was finally naked, hard and wanting more, and he was only too willing to give it to the other man.

Nick knew he wouldn't be able to walk for a week…

x x x

Outside, the rain and sleet mix was no longer beating so viciously against the window panes. It had slowed a little, but there was no sign of it stopping within the next minutes. Many people finally hurried home, drenched already or getting drenched not much later as they tried to get to the next bus station or into their cars.

Inside the house, two men lay entwined in their embrace, bodies warm against each other, resting. Monroe felt each breath of his Grimm, each beat of his heart, and he splayed his fingers against the curve of his ribs. So soft and vulnerable and still so incredibly strong. A Grimm. With a little more experience Nick would be even more fierce and fearsome. He was a protector and always would be.

Not like the others.

Snuggling against the nude, spent form, feeling so pleasantly exhausted and sated, too, he let his thoughts taper off.

Nick was safe and warm against him, his heartbeat a pleasant lull, his scent strong and irreplaceable in Monroe's nose.

Safe.

That was all that mattered.

His fingertips caressed over the scar, then he let his broad hand rest over the blemish to the pale skin.

Safe.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Monroe had been right that he really couldn't draw that well, but Nick had a general idea of the regnant's look and he had fleshed out the rough sketch by asking Monroe a few questions. The blutbad had been impressed by his talent and in the end it had led to an impromptu blowjob that had left him mellow and kind of braindead.

As before his partner had declined accompanying him to the trailer and Nick respected that.
And as before he didn't find anything on this mysterious regnant creature.

He had looked. He had gone through so many notes, words were blending together in front of his tired eyes. He had seen so many creatures, had read so much, crammed so much knowledge into his head, it felt like he was a walking encyclopedia now. He would always need Monroe's deeper knowledge because all his predecessors had done was scribble down what they had thought might be true, their observations and thoughts. No one had really stopped and asked the right questions.

Nick asked. And he got answers.

But there was nothing on the regnant. Nothing new, at least. And if Marie had known about them she would have written it in her journal.

x x x

He came home three hours later, thoughtful, not really happy about something out there that was apparently not trying to kill him, but who also didn't come to his rescue like some comic vigilante whenever he got into trouble.

Strange.

He knew he would have to push the regnant's identity from his mind for now. There were enough cases, at work and as a Grimm, to keep him busy. Wondering about the regnant would only make him less attentive, maybe miss a detail, and something might blow up in his face at work or while out being a Grimm.

Of course, he could seek out Adalind Schade, press her for information, and get nowhere. She was a lawyer and she would move the right barriers into his way, maybe even get him off the police force if it served her. She had connections, Nick knew, and she would use them. That she served a politically powerful creature didn't make her any less dangerous; she wasn't someone to upset right now.

Monroe looked up from his latest project, a beautifully crafted antique clock, maybe close to two hundred years old, peering over his glasses.

"Nothing, hm?" he guessed.

"Nothing," he confirmed and hung up his jacket.

It was freezing cold outside and Nick had no intention to go back out there if he didn't have to. His face was red from the cold and he really needed to defreeze right now. The warmth of the house helped.

He stood in the living room, hands in his pockets, eyes wandering over the many little things that had changed. Monroe's stuff cluttering the shelves. Monroe's tools. His clocks. Books. There was an afghan he had brought along one day, hand-knit by his great-grandmother he had said. His clothes were in the closet, his toothbrush had been part of the bathroom for a long, long time now. And Nick's house was part of his territory.

"Do you think he's dangerous?" the Grimm asked quietly after a moment.

Monroe regarded him thoughtfully. "All creatures are dangerous one way or the other," he answered slowly. "Look at that reinigen kid. His violin was his weapon. Your hare friend… I believe she would attack any single one of us if she has children and they are threatened. Regnants are pretty much unknown to my kind or the creature world, so everything's a guessing game."

Nick blew out a breath. "That's not helping."

"I never said I was omniscient, Nick."

"You know more than I do."

It got him a soft chuckle. "You're new to this. Everything I tell you is more than you already know. But that'll change."

Nick gazed out the window again, lost in thought. "He wants you to protect me. That's something I can't wrap my head around. Why? And why now? Why not do it himself if it's that important."

"I don't know."

"He's out there."

Monroe frowned. "You can Grimm that?"

Nick smiled a little. "No. It's just a fact. There's a mysterious creature out there that's not yet trying to kill me. That's more weird than everyone else who's out for my hide."

Monroe rose and walked over to his mate, pulling him close, looking into the too serious gray eyes.

"No one's gunning for you, Nick. Not actively. We creatures are too afraid of the mighty Grimm to chase you." He placed a kiss on the smooth forehead.

"Were you afraid?"

Monroe smiled. "Yeah. You charged down out of the forest, chased me into my house, slammed me down and yelled at me. I think everyone would have been afraid of you, Nick."

The Grimm sighed. "Sorry. At the time.. things were complicated and scary and seeing what you were… after I had seen that girl torn to pieces…"

The other man stopped him. "I know, Nick. And I know you didn't want to kill me just because I was different back then. You went all cop on me, not Grimm. You are different. You always will be."

"But Grimms have a reputation that gets in the way."

"Dude, we all have reputations that get in the way. Look at me. I thought the reinigen kid would faint on me. I only wanted to talk."

Nick nodded, wrapping his arms around the taller form, enjoying the solidity of Monroe's body, the firmness.

"And you can't let the idea of the regnant out there watching you influence your work," his partner added.

"I won't." Nick brushed their lips together.

And if the mysterious creature reappeared one day, maybe face to face with Nick, he would try and get to the bottom of this. Until then, he would do his job as usual.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

He knew that the blutbad couldn't scent him, nor sense him in any other way. It was the great thing about being what he was: he was virtually undetectable unless he dropped his façade completely and showed those who could see creatures what he was. The Grimm had been around him so many times, had been right next to him, and he had only seen the human he portrayed.

The perfect camouflage, the perfect hunter, the perfect watcher.

Standing in the shadows, watching the house of Nick Burckhardt, a smile crossed the handsome features.

The Grimm was needed. It was why he tolerated this dangerous predator on his territory, why he would see to it that the reapers stayed away unless summoned. They had no jurisdiction here; no one had. It was his city, his territory, and he would make sure the Grimm was protected here.

Maybe even beyond.

His kind respected the Grimms and there had been a time when their kind had worked together. Regnants were guardians, Grimms were arbitrators. The perfect combination to protect a town. With Nick, this time might be there once more. The young Grimm was open to changes, was so different himself.

Turning, he walked down the street, hands in his pockets, enjoying the brisk, cold air.

x x x

Inside the house, Monroe took his time mapping Nick's body with little nips, kisses and caresses, large, gentle hands sliding over the scar, the eyes taking on a red hue. Nick drew him into a kiss, trying to erase those memories, trying to soothe the anger at a misguided young man who had been tried and sentenced and locked away.

"Yours," Nick whispered against the fangs. "Yours alone."

The blutbad rumbled his pleasure, blanketing the willing form, tasting and touching and caressing the lithe man, unable to get enough of him.

"Mine," he whispered roughly.

Nick smiled, accepting and warm and welcoming. His claim on Monroe was as absolute as the blutbad's was on the Grimm.

They fell asleep, wrapped in each other, content and warm. Monroe knew that whatever happened next, it would never be Nick alone out there again.

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

Monroe had buried Hap at a small graveyard that was known to be frequented by mostly creature families. Here, in this almost neutral environment, no one cared who the deceased had been. Blutbad, ziegenvolk, hare or biber. The families had an unofficial, unspoken peace treaty here.

Hap had had no surviving family but Angelina, and she had been in the wind, thought Monroe thought he had smelled her around the grave site a day after the burial.

There had been no big ceremony. It had been simply and to the point. He hadn't told Nick about it either.

Now he was with the Grimm at Hap's grave for the first time.

"You could have told me," Nick said softly.

Dressed against the icy wind, a thick woolen scarf and hat protecting him against the flakes that fell in ever-thicker growing clouds, his gray eyes were still piercing and strong.

Monroe just nodded. Now, looking back, he knew he should have. At the time the guilt had been eating him up. And the shame.

Nick had trusted him to protect Hap and he had failed miserably. He had been responsible for his friend's death.

"Not your fault," the Grimm murmured, bumping shoulders with him.

"I can't easily forgive and forget, Nick."

"I'm sure Hap has forgiven you."

"He's dead."

It got him a raised brow. Monroe exhaled sharply. Hap had been that way. Easy, but not simple. Just… easy. His view of the world had been rather straight-forward.

His eyes were back on the simple stone with Hap's full name, his date of birth, his death day. Monroe didn't even know where Rolf had been buried when he had been killed. Angelina might know; Hap had known.

The snow was starting to obscure his eyes and he wiped fat flakes off his brows and lashes.

"Let's go home," he only said and turned away from the grave.

Nick followed him, silent, eyes flickering over the other gravestones. Maybe he was wondering how many of those in the graves had been killed by Grimms. Maybe he was simply looking for familiar names. Maybe it was just curiosity.

They had arrived with Nick's car and Monroe slid into the passenger seat, buckling in, eyes faraway, mind running on empty. Nick was still silent, giving him the necessary time. He drove away from the graveyard and headed back home. The wipers busy kept the windshield clear of snow. When they had finally arrived, Nick switched off the engine and looked at his partner.

Monroe gave him a faint smile. "I'm okay."

And it was the truth. Nothing but the truth. He would always carry the guilt of Hap's death through his shortcomings with him, but he was okay.

Monroe leaned over, giving his partner, his Grimm, a kiss. "Really," he added.

Nick looked at him, the intensity of his gaze making Monroe shiver, then he nodded.

"Let's go inside," he only said and pushed open the door to get out of the car.

Monroe followed, smiling a little at the flakes drifting down around them. Christmas was coming and he hadn't even started with his decorations, something he was suddenly looking forward to.

Especially now that he had someone to share it with for the first time in so many years.

fin!

Hope you enjoyed yourselves.