A/N:

So I actually wrote this back after the Season 3 finale...and in light of what's going to happen with poor Nick and Juliette in the next episode, this seemed like a good time to post it.

I never intended on actually posting this...it's my first attempt at something more adult. *blushing furiously*. Thanks to the encouragement and feedback from the amazing Lostinarwop, who convinced me I should actually post it... This one's for you!

Mature content ahead. Feedback is loved!

Fictional

God, Nick wanted to tell her a thousand things right now. He wanted to tell her that he would be happy with whatever Juliette could give him, that he was sorry for constantly putting her through things like this, asking her to accept things that most normal couples wouldn't ever worry about, that continually putting her life in danger really wasn't fair. He wanted to tell her that whatever she was could handle was fine with him, whether it was continuing their relationship or not, because of this new world they'd been thrust in to. He wanted to tell her that if tonight was it, the kicker for her, the end-all to this, then he understood and he'd let her go. He wanted to tell her that no matter what happened between them, he would always try to protect her and he would always love her.

He hadn't always been this terrible with words, not until he had had to lie about everything in the beginning and hide it from her, even though it had been for her own protection. Now, he didn't even know what to say to her when it came down to it because everything about Juliette right now threw him off. He didn't think, no, he knew that he couldn't forgive himself if he lost her over lack of trying, because he didn't fight hard enough for her, didn't tell her exactly how he felt. She at least deserved that much.

"Juliette, we need to talk..." he started, but she cut him off with a pointed glance in his direction. Then she sighed, shoulders relaxing slightly.

"We will," she replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, and he could hear the exhaustion in her voice, see it written all over her body. "But I'd like to take a shower first, if that's okay."

"Okay." He swallowed thickly, turning around to face their bed, running a hand haphazardly through his hair as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

Some big part of him was quaking with nervousness and indecision, uncertainty and anticipation about what their future held. Nick was feeling completely unsure about himself and his place in the world, and it was uncomfortable, an itch underneath his skin that he couldn't ease. Juliette had always been like a soothing balm for him, now that he thought about it. She'd always been a calming sensation in his life, influencing him, anchoring him, making him feel more human even, especially now in light of his double life.

His complicated life that was slowly driving her away.

Then, to his utter surprise, she pulled her shirt off over her head, tossed it lightly into the basket by the bathroom door and asked, "Are you coming?"

She turned around without waiting for an answer. By the time he'd regained his bearings and followed her into the bathroom, she was stripped down to her panties and bra, leaning into the shower as she adjusted the temperature of the water.

"Are you ok, Juliette?" he asked, reaching out to run his hand down her bare arm, just barely brushing her smooth skin with his fingertips. He frowned, hesitantly pulling back, unsure if she even wanted him to touch her like this, after everything that had happened.

Then she turned to smile at him over her shoulder, the loving grin he knew and loved so well, and he thought maybe they were really going to be okay.

She reached out then and pulled him into the shower behind her. He stood tentatively next to her, careful not to touch her unless she wanted him to, didn't want to push her past what she might be ready for. She ran a hand over his chest, frowning in concern as she gently ran a hand over his heart, pausing to feel it's steady rhythm beneath her fingertips. They stood silently under the spray together, letting the water wash away the pain and their sins, grateful for the simple fact that they were both still alive. It was enough for now.

Eventually the water cooled, and she turned off the faucet and threw back the shower curtain. Steam billowed out into the bathroom, fogging up the mirror instantly, and he watched their figures disappear from view behind the haze. His head felt like it was in something of a cloud, too, as she handed him a towel and took another one for herself. They wrapped themselves up in the soft terrycloth and padded out into their room.

Nick pulled his towel off from around his waist and sat on the edge of the bed to watch her run a comb through her wet red locks by the dresser, fascinated by the silky smoothness of her pale body, the way her damp skin glimmered in the light. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her, to hold her close and never let her go. He ran the cloth over his hair as he stared at her, trying to catch some of the extra moisture that clung there.

Then her towel slipped, fell off her, twisting into a pile at her feet. She didn't even try to stop it, hadn't chased after it in the slightest. She just let it slip to the ground without a care in the world.

And he didn't know how it happened, because he wasn't even hoping for something more right now, but he caught sight of her rosy nipples reflected in the mirror, and context was everything because he was suddenly and painfully hard. He shifted his towel over his lap as nonchalantly as he could manage, but it was so obvious, so very, very clear, that he was aroused. There was hardly a point in trying to hide it, and he really just hoped that she was going to keep her eyes trained on her hair for just a little while longer, just until he could get himself back under control . . .

Juliette met his gaze in the mirror, and she must have seen the heat reflected there because rapidly the tentative expression she wore changed into one of naked want, of heat and desire and all the things that he'd hoped but not expected he would see tonight.

She turned slowly, and he thought he might jump out of his skin as she moved toward him, one foot in front of the other, almost shyly.

She stopped at his feet, her skin so close to his that he could feel the heat radiating off her body in waves, and it felt like she was devouring him, possessing him with nothing more than her eyes and her presence. She reached down to his lap, tugged on his towel, and he gave only the barest resistance as she pulled it away because there really was no purpose in trying to fool her.

Not that he really wanted to.

The delicious friction of the terrycloth was almost too much, simultaneously rough and soft, a study in contrast on his skin, but for all his arousal, for all the things he wanted to do to her right now, he couldn't move, could barely breathe underneath the weight of her gaze. He studied her silently for minutes, days, years, drinking in what he had loved for so long, what he was so afraid to lose, and he only grew harder as she stared right back.

She licked her lips.

"Hi," she whispered, at last breaking the silence. Nick couldn't find the words to respond.

"…hi," he finally managed, still completely memorized by her.

Juliette climbed into his lap in their darkened bedroom, together for real (he was completely sure of that), silently pushing away the weight of the world between them. It was just the two of them, coming back together, and it was perfect.

He couldn't keep his hands still, couldn't stop himself from touching her, running his hands over every inch of her, relearning the planes of her body, even though he already had them memorized, and he wondered how he ever could have mistaken her for anyone else. But wonder of all wonders, she couldn't keep still either, was just as greedy for him as he was for her.

She was hot in his lap, her skin still water softened from the shower, and she clung to him as she rocked her hips back and forth, her slick center brushing maddeningly close to his erection.

"Nick..." she said, his name a sigh on her lips, and he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He snaked a hand down between them, slid his finger along the length of her slit to test her readiness, and she sighed delicately at his touch, arched against him and moaned.

"I need you, Nick…make love to me," she begged in his ear, nibbling him with her teeth, and he had no choice but to obey, wanted nothing more than to acquiesce to her every whim as long as it meant that he got to hear her say his name like that, all breathless with need. "Please…"

"…say it again," he said hoarsely as he rolled her, tossing her bodily down onto her back beneath him on the bed.

"Make love to me," she said, her eyes meeting his. She spread her legs, then, and slung them loosely around his hips, embracing him, welcoming him home.

He used one hand to position himself at her opening, pressed the tip against her, slightly into her, stretching her open with his fingers.

Damn it, she was so wet and tight and she was Juliette and...

"No," he choked out. "The other part..."

"Nick," she cut him off, filling in the gap with the one thing that he so desperately need to hear, "I need you." And then she whispered his name again, repeated it over and over like a prayer, reminding him of who he was, who he wanted to be, and that sometimes, everything was all right in the world. She leaned up and kissed him finally, and he felt the burn of her lips all the way in his toes.

He couldn't stop then, found no reason to prolong easing their mutual ache, so he plunged into her, thrusting all the way to the hilt, until he was completely sheathed in her warmth, and for the first time all night, he relaxed.

It felt different between them this time. He figured it had something to do with the fact that this time, here and now, was them coming back together, him somehow begging for her forgiveness, although she had already forgiven him, had told him that he wasn't to blame. There was no question now that this was something that they both wanted, a mutual desire to roll around together and enjoy the present, to pretend that death and betrayal weren't constantly knocking at the door because of who and what he was. Despite that, although he was certain that she was physically ok, he didn't know how she was dealing emotionally and that was almost more terrifying, because he had no one to blame but himself if she decided that she couldn't handle this life anymore.

She nipped at his lower lip, drawing him back to the present.

"Stop thinking so hard," she whispered, and she hooked her ankles around his back as she began to move, thrusting upward tentatively, encouraging him gently with her heels, with her entire body pressed along the length of his.

He fused his mouth to hers as they rocked, unable to conceive of anywhere else he'd rather be. He had wanted this time to be different, especially after the latest close call. He wanted to be more romantic, more impressive, more…something, but she didn't seem to mind that he wasn't exactly bringing his A game, that he was lying on top of her and thrusting mindlessly into her again and again, pounding his flesh into hers until they found a sense of rhythm. Maybe it was simple, but he thought that maybe simple was what they needed right now.

She was on the same page as he was, if he were to judge solely based on the way she was moaning against his mouth and writhing beneath him. She arched her spine, thrust her body up against him, scraped her nails down his back, and he knew he would bear the marks on his shoulders as a memory of this night. He wanted that, ached for that, needed that because even now, even as he drove himself into her, fucked her into the damn mattress, even now he had a hard time believing that Juliette, his Juliette, the picture of perfection, beauty and grace, would still want to be here, like this, with him, even knowing what he was and how that continued to bring danger and turmoil into their life.

He felt like screaming with joy, wanted to shout it from the rooftops, tell every person that he'd ever known that he loved this woman more than should be entirely possible for a person to love another, and that he wasn't ever letting her go.

Instead, he kissed her as tenderly as he could given the harsh, desperate movements of their lower bodies, and he ghosted his fingertips over her forehead and cupped her cheek, trying to convey half of what he felt for her in his touch. There were no words.

She was still crying out his name, sobbing it over and over again as he slid into her, a mindless litany that she did not stop, one that reverberated through every pore of his body. She became boneless beneath him, clinging to him for dear life, and it felt as if he were fucking all the tension out of her body. Maybe he was at that, because he felt himself relax more and more into her as she met his thrusts, felt his mind loosen and his brain finally, blessedly disengaged as he neared orgasm.

"I'm so close," she choked out, breathless in his ear. "Oh, Jesus…Nick…."

He felt her muscles quiver around him, felt her start to shake uncontrollably as she began to seize, curving upward to hold herself closer to him, screaming so loudly that he was sure the people two houses down could hear her. He didn't care though, not one bit, didn't mind if anyone heard them because he was there too, coiled up and ready to erupt into her the moment she lost control.

And then she did, and he had never seen anything more beautiful.

She grimaced as she came, her brow furrowed as if in deep thought. Her head fell backward and she sucked air roughly into her lungs. He leaned down to kiss her as he slipped over the edge with her, needing that last bit of contact between them, finally feeling whole as he pulsed in time with her contractions.

She was still rippling around him, squeezing him gently when he regained himself, and he knew then he would never get tired of her, would want to be with her for as long as she would have him because she was beautiful and brave and perfect and everything he needed.

So he told her. Or, rather, he tried to tell her, but she beat him to the chase.

"Wow..." she breathed as she turned her face up toward him and sighed a little wistfully. "So, is that a Grimm thing?"

He chuckled at that, unsure of what else to say or do. He tried to roll off her then, remove his weight before he crushed her, but she held on to him, did not release the grip of her thighs.

"No!" she said a little too dramatically, obviously more so than she'd intended because she blushed, and he'd never seen that particular shade on her before. It suited her. Then again, everything did.

"Stay," she said, quieter this time, her eyes boring steadily into his.

He settled back against her, careful to keep the majority of his weight in his elbows, and they lay, still joined in the most intimate of ways.

"You okay?" he asked because he didn't know what else to say, gently brushing a strand of hair away from her sweaty forehead.

The corners of her eyes crinkled at that, the edges of her mouth turned up, and it took him longer than it should have to realize that this was a smile, a real smile coming from her, one that conveyed happiness, contentment even. This smile came from somewhere deep inside her, he knew, he could tell, could see the sincerity and the force of her whole heart behind it.

Then her smile fell.

She blinked up at him. "I don't know what to say," she said, as a line of worry and concentration crossed her brow.

He pressed his lips to the skin there, nuzzled her with the tip of his nose. "Just tell me," he said, feeling himself tense up in anticipation.

She shifted underneath him then, moved until they were side by side on the mattress. She stared at him pensively, not quite meeting his gaze when she spoke. "It's just, our lives have changed so much…"

Nick sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly, and he suddenly found their silk sheets the most interesting thing in the world.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for bringing you into this. I hate that you are always in danger, that you are always afraid, always having to look over your shoulder. If this is too much, if you want to leave, I would completely understand..."

"I don't," she interrupted as pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him."Just let me finish, ok? I know that, and I know this isn't your fault. And I know what happened before…with her…wasn't your fault either."

She paused, looking at the ceiling for a moment to gather her thoughts. "You didn't choose this life, but it's the life you have, it's your duty. I've learned that," she said, as she dropped her gaze to where her fingers rested on his sternum. "It's just that..." she swallowed."I keep thinking, that this time, will be the time, where you don't come back…when you don't make it home…and I can't deal with that Nick." She paused, looking up at him tremulously. "I can't lose you."

He blinked at her, honestly shocked by her words. "I'm sorry...Juliette, I will always try to make it back to you...I promise…"

The corner of her mouth twitched. "I know that. All I mean is that I know how dangerous your life is, and I accept it. I accept that you have to be a Grimm, it's who you are. I just want you to know how much you mean to me."

She smiled wider then, kissed him briefly on the lips, and he waited for her to finish her thought.

"At first, after I found out the whole truth, I'll be honest, I was a little resentful. I mourned for the life we would never have…especially if we stayed together. All the hopes and dreams we had for a normal life were suddenly gone, and I had to learn to deal with it. And then, we got this chance to have a normal life again, for you to not be a Grimm anymore…and I guess I thought maybe we could go back to the way things were before."

She smiled ruefully then, shaking her head as she met his gaze. "But as time went on and I realized how important what you do is, and how serious it was, I...I stopped caring about any of that, because I just care about you," she said quietly, flushing but still holding his gaze. "And I knew you had to be a Grimm, that it was the only choice. And I know it's terrible of me, but I wasn't able to completely let everything go, let go of those dreams, until your heart stopped at the shop tonight…"

She trailed off, blinking back tears furiously, and he could feel her start to retreat into herself, to pull back from him. He knew how badly he had scared her (and the others), and he completely understood her fears. After all, he had nearly died in the process to restore his powers, but he would be damned after everything if he was going to lose her now.

"I'm still here, Juliette," he said, reaching out to her, placing her hand over his now strongly beating heart. "Do you feel that? I'm still here."

"I know, I know," she said, shaking her head. "Just…it shouldn't have taken you almost dying for me to figure this out."

He stilled.

"Figure what out?" he asked, unsure just how deeply her turmoil of emotions ran. Well, he had his suspicions, he could read her better than anyone else alive, but he wanted to hear her say it, he wanted irrefutable proof.

She swallowed, obviously bracing herself. "I...I love you so much, Nick. I want this, I want us, regardless of the complications or the danger." She paused, cupping his cheek gently with her soft hand.

"I'm not going anywhere."

He closed his eyes against the swell of emotion that ripped through him at her words and he leaned in, tucking his face against the crook of her neck. She was staying, she wasn't going to leave.

"I love you, too, Juliette," he whispered, and they let it rest at that.

END