Takes place directly after the dinner with Rosalee's family, episode 11: "The Good Soldier".
Lucky.
It was near midnight by the time they got home that night, the sky was clouded before half a moon, leaving the walk back inside dark and cold. Rosalee however, felt anything but.
"Not gonna lie, your sister's steak looked pretty dang good." Rosalee smiled as she shut the door behind Monroe. "But not that, good." He added reassuringly.
"Well that's good to hear," she smirked giving his arm a squeeze.
"Not trying to be a jerk, but I gotta call this Russian dude real quick to let him know I shipped his goods."
"I'll be in the tub." Monroe shuffled off into the other room with a nod, his phone glowing ahead of him.
The bath water soothed her tired body. They may have only sat in a car all day, but the dinner had taken a lot out of her. She was emotionally drained. So many things, from years of worry, grief, and anger all flooded out like a fox from a den. Which was a never more true comparison for a family like her's. Rosalee felt a sense of relief she had thought she would never receive. Never get the chance to say what she did to those she loved, despite their distance from her life. She felt lighter, she felt loved. Not only because of the peace and understanding she was finding within her own Fuchbaus, but because of the love of a certain Blutbad.
Rosalee smiled when she heard his excited voice echo through the floor below her. She watched the steam fog the window panes, giving the moon's glow a beautiful haunted look. Monroe was truly something special, and after tonight, she knew that more than ever. In so many ways, without him, she would be lost. And this evening would have been even more so, a fox running back into a wet old den, if he hadn't encouraged her to try. Monroe didn't care what she had done in her old life, never once passed a judging nor disapproving eye. He was her steady heartbeat through the stress of the day, the root in her life's tree. Sure, his Pilates schedule sometimes intervened with other things, his diet could be hard to accommodate at times, as were his history rich tirades when it came to trinkets. Yes, he was eccentric and different. He wasn't a model, he wasn't perfect, but that's what made him whole and that was better than perfect.
Rosalee had never felt more lucky.
She heard him come upstairs, so she finished her bath and changed into her pajamas. The Fuchsbau found him in the bedroom, carefully putting away his boots.
"So I realized you're pretty lucky." He said unbuttoning his coat with a twinkle in his eye.
"Is that so?" Rosalee took a seat on the bed, running a finger through her hair.
"I still mark my territory, that means you never have to deal with me leaving the toilet seat up. All right, well, the percentage is like, half the normal rate. Not that I know it." She raised a brow.
"This is true. Just try to do it at night, only." She winked.
"Trust me, I learned that lesson when I found a Grimm barreling through my yard." He raised his brow. Monroe reached for his sleep shirt than paused. "I should probably shower, your sister gave me a pretty good scare." He paused in the bathroom doorway, "and that's saying something."
"Sorry about that!" Rosalee called as the door shut behind him.
"Hey no skin off my back, just maybe some hair, wasn't exactly expecting to Wolga in that shirt." Rosalee chuckled.
When the shower water turned on she settled into bed, flipping through one of his many bizarre magazines such as "Tickers Weekly," an entire 30 pages devoted to clock parts.
"Did you know that in Germany there are over 12 clock arm factories?" Rosalee said with mock interest as Monroe came back, squeaky clean, hair combed back over his pajamas.
"Yeah know, I did know that actually. Been to 1 of them my self." He said proudly, settling into bed beside her. "Though in my experience, the best actually come from Poland."
"Poland?" She smirked at him and he nodded.
The Blutbad clicked off the light then quickly turned it back on.
"Wait, you weren't seriously reading that were you? Cause if so that's kinda hot." Rosalee chuckled, setting the magazine aside with a no. "Just checking." The light went off and Rosalee snuggled up against her Blutbad, taking in the warmth flooding from his chest and the pine scented soap lingering on his skin.
"Boy, does tiredness sometimes hit you like a train or what." He closed his eyes.
"It really does."
"I can't imagine what you must be feeling," he pulled her closer and she rested her chin on his chest to look up at him in the dim light misting in from the night sky.
"You know what I am feeling?"
"Like some hot chocolate and a Gilligan's Island marathon?" He said teasingly.
"No... I'm feeling very lucky." She tapped a finger on his chest. "Not every girl has a guy like you, and I never thought I would. Not in a 100 years."
"Whoa there," he opened his eyes and tried to look down at her.
"I'm serious Monroe. You're... you're special in more ways than you could ever know." He sat up a little, with a look of admiration and curiosity. Rosalee rolled onto her belly to meet his eye. "I feel so... so complete with you. Before I met you, it was like I was only... half a- half a body or heart. And that's why I kept falling flat on my face." Monroe took in her words for a moment, running a hand down the length of her hair.
"You really should have gone into poetry." Rosalee smirked, toying with a button on his shirt. "First off, you're giving me too much credit. You're like, one of the strongest people I'd ever met. Heck you saved my life by hitting that guy with a brick." She nodded teasingly.
"That was pretty badass," he smirked.
"I knew you were the girl for me right then and there. Well, if you'd have me. Of course." She smirked, meeting his gentle gaze. "And second off, I... look, I'm not as verbose as you may be. But what you said... feeling complete doesn't even begin to cover it. If you were missing half your heart, I was like, skeleton territory. Okay maybe not that far, but man thinking back to how I felt before I met you? And comparing? Boy." Monroe lay a hand on her back. "You may think you're lucky, but you ain't got nothing on me. I scored, big time." Rosalee smiled as she traced his face from his brow to his jaw line before pressing her lips to the spot.
"So, why Poland?" The question caught him off guard before his eyes began to dance with a different type of light.
"For the clocks? Oh man where do I start." Rosalee nestled into his chest once more, listening to his voice echo within his chest. She soon learned more than she ever wanted to know about the temperature to make a proper repair on the oldest of clocks, and much, much more. She began to drift off, soothed by what was Monroe. A man of 100 quirks, and if one of them was loving her, she could be happy forever.
As Rosalee's breathing fell into sleep, Monroe smirked.
"That's about it. Well I could keep talking, I actually do think Nick doesn't really like my cooking. And he just sort of lies... I also really came from a cabbage patch grown by a Siegbarste." He smirked. She really was asleep. Shifting ever so slightly as to not wake her, he reached out to the nightstand, gently opening a small drawer.
Monroe took a deep breath as he lightly fingered the small velvet box, picking it open for a peek. The ring was nestled right in the center, giving off the slightest glow in the moonlight. He couldn't fight the nervous smile if he tried. A symbol of forever, of the words his heart sang with each beat. Normally when he looked at the thing, he was aflutter with anxiety. But tonight, feeling her heart bump rhythmically against his chest, he had never been more confident.
It was time.
Thank you so much for reading! Please review! :)
