Sleepy
Monroe nearly, he felt the growl, an abnormal one, growing in the back of his throat, fanged out when he heard the first knock on his door. He swallowed the irritation and his growing anger, snapping his eyes to the digital on his nightstand. It read two forty-eight, in the morning. His anger grew again, swelling into a crescendo of growling that went on as he stomped downstairs, barefoot, shivering from the nip of the cold floor against his feet. He cursed his pajamas- navy tee, black boxers- not for the first time, and vowed to find something warmer to wear before he wrenched the front door open. He was about to explode, to let loose his anger on the black-haired detective that was standing there on his doorstep, but it all suddenly vanished at one look at Nick's face.
"... Hey Monroe."
AN: Welcome to my preface. Yes, I know it's short, and I did that on purpose for a tease. -Smile- This will be canon, and will probably be a two to three shot.