Author's Note: Hello, wonderful readers and lovely Grimmlins. This is a story I've had in my mind for a while now and I've been working on it feverishly so as to keep it relatively accurate to the show. After what happened last night, I feel like I needed to get this out on the web for all you Monrosalee supporters. does not yet have Rosalee listed as a character, so until they do, I will only have this tagged for Monroe.

I apologize for the brevity. Longer chapters will come. I just wanted to set up the action!

Spoilers: Let's see now, if you haven't seen "The Three Bad Wolves," or the last two episodes ("The Island of Dreams" and "The Thing with Feathers"), you may not want to read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Grimm. I just absolutely love it.

Enjoy!

CHAPTER 1

Monroe could not stand it any longer. He reached over for the phone. This was a bad idea, a horrible idea. This was the kind of thing that Blutbaden just didn't do. But when had he ever been a conventional Blutbad exactly? His hands trembled as he picked up the piece of paper with the 10-digit number he had traced onto the buttons of his phone numerous times in the last few days but had never actually gathered the courage to call. This time, however, was different. He could wait no longer.

His palms began to sweat in a way that had only ever happened one other time with Angelina. But she was not to return, and Monroe was almost positive he had moved on. His heart pounded as he dialed the well-rehearsed number and waited for a response on the other end.

"Hello?" The soft musical voice from the other end said.

"Rosalee?" Monroe asked.

"Yes?" The fuchsbau said uncertainly.

"It…It's me, Monroe," he said, and felt incredibly stupid afterwards. She could probably recognize his voice.

"Hello!" She said, startled. She had not been expecting to hear from her Blutbad friend. "How are you?"

"I'm great, actually," Monroe said. "How's the… how's the apothecary business going?" There came from the other end a laugh not unlike the tinkling of a bell.

"No different than it was two days ago," she quipped. "It's going pretty slow, but it's steady, so I can't complain."

"That's great!" Monroe said, flushing at her joke. It was true they had last met only two days previously – which was when they had exchanged numbers – but he couldn't help it; the fuchsbau had somehow invaded his mind and heart, and he was powerless against her. He gathered up all his courage. He had to do this now, before his heart exploded within his chest. "Hey, I was wondering, I mean, if you're not busy, if you'd like to… have dinner with me?" There was a silence on the other end. Monroe cringed, expecting the worst.

"When?" Rosalee asked after a pause. The smile in her voice was unmistakable. She would be lying if she had said that this was unexpected, and also if she were to say she didn't have any desire to spend extra time with Monroe. Something had changed within her when he had come and spent the night with her at her brother's old place to protect her, something that had started from the second he'd laid his hand in hers and greeted her the first time, "I knew your brother." Clearly, Freddie had a good taste in friends. And this feeling within had been growing ever since he had been helping her with the shop.

"How… How does tomorrow at seven sound?" He asked softly, smiling broader than he ever had before. He could hardly contain himself.

"That sounds great, Monroe," she said. "Do you want me to meet you there?"

"There's no need," he said, finding his courage at last. "I'll come pick you up."

"Great," she said breathlessly. "Perfect. Thanks. So… see you… at seven…."

"See you then," Monroe said. A click on the other end told him the fuchsbau had hung up.

With that finally done and done correctly, Monroe flopped down on his couch with a contented sigh. He hadn't loved anybody like this since Angelina, and he wasn't sure how to do so correctly. He had heard of Blutbad/Fuchsbau couples before, but he knew it was pretty rare for it to work out. Fuchsbau were naturally crafty, sly, and conniving, while also somehow at the same time sweet and genuine – what you saw was usually what you got. They tended to be naturalists and introverts. Blutbaden were naturally charismatic, fighters, forever searching for blood, forever acting on violent impulses. They tended to love carnage and conflicts and be best suited for fights. They were harder to deal with, more into war than peace, and much more extroverted. But oftentimes people loved to say that opposites attracted, and Monroe was determined to win Rosalee's heart. She was kind and gentle, just as he was trying to be to avoid relapse into Blutbaden ways.

Suddenly, the phone rang again, startling him out of his reverie. He picked it up without bothering to check the caller I.D.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Hey, Monroe," said a very relieved Nick. "Hey, what's up?"

"Not much," Monroe said, hesitating. He didn't know if he should tell his friend what he had done. "Why? Did you find more Wesen?"

"No, not yet," Nick said. "Actually, I just really wanted to thank you. You were great at the drug bust… and even before that with Sgt. Wu and Rosalee."

"Oh, uh… no problem," Monroe said awkwardly, unused to such compliments. "It was my pleasure."

"Well, I still feel like I owe you one," Nick said. "I know it's not a fair trade for endangering your life, but I want to buy you a beer. How does tomorrow night sound? Juliette will be working late and we can just share a few drinks as partners and talk about completely un-Grimm-related stuff. What do you say?"

"Gee, Nick," Monroe said, touched. Clearly, the Grimm did value him as a friend, more than he previously thought. "I would love to. Can it be tonight though? I sort of have something going on tomorrow."

"I can't tonight," Nick said apologetically. "I have a date with Juliette. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Oh, well, just…," Monroe faltered. How could he answer that? He racked his brain and quickly came up with a way to say it. "I'm… going to dinner… with a friend." Silence ensued.

"Monroe?" Nick asked slyly, and the Blutbad was sure he was caught. "Did you ask-"

"Okay, fine," he confessed quickly. "Yes, I asked Rosalee." Nick was not at all surprised. The two had clearly hit it off in the last few days, and he was, if anything, proud of his friend for making a move.

"You asked… oh, wow, that's… that's great, Monroe!" He exclaimed supportively. "We can go grab a beer some other time."

"Well, thanks," Monroe said, blushing and eternally grateful the Grimm couldn't see. "Yeah, that would be great. Just… give me a call sometime this weekend."

"Alright," Nick said, smiling. "Take care. Call me later, alright? Congrats!"

"Okay," Monroe said. "Thanks. Bye." He hung up and tried to tell his newly pounding heart to calm down. It was just dinner, nothing crazy. But even in his head it didn't work; he knew it was something more, much more. He remembered the way Rosalee had looked at him when they had last met. That couldn't be "nothing." In fact, that had to be a very substantial something.

She was the most beautiful and valuable thing in his world at the present, and he was sure he was ready to take it to a whole new level with her. One thing was for sure, he thought: tomorrow could not come fast enough.

A/N: Well, I think this sets things up nicely. I'd love to hear what you thought thus far. Reviews are lovely and are always appreciated. Thanks for reading, and much more to come soon!

Ciao for now!

~PG22