Disclaimer: With this story I am in no way claiming the rights to the characters of Grimm. Original characters and plot devices are owned by me but anything that you recognize from the show is not. This has been written purely for entertainment.

"It's time we settle our differences…violently." –Nick Burkhardt, Grimm

1.

Chase had been having a bad day even before the kid sitting behind her turned into a goat. The woman next to him—who she had assumed to be his mother—simply glanced over and buried her head in her hands as if this were a normal occurrence back home.

A quick once-over of the passengers around Chase confirmed that none were looking in the direction of the child whose mother was now pleading with to look normal again. It's funny how normal people usually never saw anything unless they wanted to, even though the child had purposefully woged so the entire plane could see him for some reason.

There was no sign of the child's father, no surprise since ziegevolk always tended to breed and leave, though careful not to draw too much attention to themselves as they bounced from victim to victim. It made them hard to track. Chase pitied the mother and wondered when the child had first turned into the human-goat hybrid she was now used too. Maybe she caught him eating the furniture or something, or he learned to bleat instead of speak.

The chime of the fasten seatbelts alert of the plane caused Chase turn around and return her gaze to the window outside. The sun was just coming up; streaks of yellow, red, and purple streaming from the East, almost directly behind the plane as it headed towards Portland, Oregon.

The African-American in the seat directly next to Chase immediately tensed when the pilot came on the intercom, asking everybody to stay in their seats while they experienced a small bit of light turbulence. If by light the pilot meant the same alternating jolts and weightlessness which was causing the overhead lights to flicker, then yes, Chase could try to ignore it easily. Ignoring her bladder, however, was not so easy. Perhaps she should've laid off the complementary drinks.

"How are you not freaking out?" The woman next to her whispered.

Chase noticed that her hands were shaking intensely and with every bounce of her curls, her eyes seemed to roll around in her head.

"I have more important things to worry about. Such as the vacant bathroom sign and the constricting seatbelt sign, it's all so contradictory." Chase said, causing her travel buddy to chuckle half-heartedly.

Not to mention that Chase hadn't gotten any sleep the past few nights, with nightmares plaguing her whenever she'd attempt to close her eyes. Then the situation back in Detroit had gotten, well, messy, so she'd had to pack up in a moment's notice and book the next available plane ticket.

"I'm Alecia" the girl spoke again, trying her hardest to keep a pleasant smile on her face.

Chase went to shake it, but another shake of the plane caused Alecia to take back the hand and squeeze the armrest as if it was her lifeline.

"Chase. And I've been on too many planes to think I'm going to die as soon as another one takes off."

Alecia swallowed. Chase gave her a quick once-over. She was pretty with minimal make-up and a few bags under her eyes, probably the result of getting up to catch this plane this morning. Her nose was slightly crooked and Chase could see the bare outlines of a scar to show it's been fractured. Now that her sleeve had ridden up a bit, Chase glimpsed the dark discoloration of a bruise and her hair had some traces of grey near the roots though Alecia couldn't have been more than thirty.

"Why are you going to Portland?" Alecia asked.

"There was some stuff I needed to get away from, nothing major, but enough that I'm relieved to be out of there." Chase answered.

"Same, I mean, just some marital problems." She shrugged as if to be nonchalant but subconsciously started rubbing her left ring finger.

Chase noticed there was not ring, just a slightly paler strip of skin to show where one had been. Her suspicions were confirmed. Not marital problems, just down-right abuse. Chase wouldn't be so cruel so as to say anything though.

"Are you staying in Portland?" Chase felt now that she needed to keep the silence at bay.

Alecia sighed. "I'm not sure. I think I'll stay around just to get my bearings, maybe in a hotel or something. Then I'll decide if I should find something more permanent or…or if I should go back."

Then she asked about Chase. The truth is she hadn't really wanted to stay at first, just get another ticket and actually decide on a destination without desperation. However, she wasn't sure she could get another ticket so soon because of how much the clean-up in Detroit had cost her. The account wouldn't be refilled until the first of the month, which was a week away. For now, Chase needed to find a nice hotel and chill for a while.

Of course, curiosity had also gotten the best of her. Chase couldn't help but look up some of the available homes around Portland. She had a few addresses written down…just in case she liked it…which she probably wouldn't.

Once again the pilot's intercom came on, telling everyone that they were beginning their descent into Portland National Airport, and to stay in their seats. Great, Chase thought. The bathroom will have to wait until landing.

Alecia quickly took out a piece of paper and scribbled down ten digits. "My number. Let's grab a coffee or something so we're not totally alone." She smiled. Chase forced a smile, it's too bad that alone was exactly how she preferred to start over in a new place, and gave Alecia her own number, too, just to be polite.

Landed, Chase had to help Alecia with her carry-on suitcase after picking up her backpack, the only luggage she brought on this trip.

Chase stood outside one of the many offices around the airport below a sign saying Oversized and Delicate Baggage Claim. She was starting to get anxious, bouncing her leg as one of her many nervous ticks and occasionally checking her brand-new phone out of boredom. She knew no one would contact her, and she had no social networking accounts to trace her, so she really didn't know why.

As soon as she was putting her phone back in her pocket for the…eighth time, Chase heard a familiar low growl from behind her. Turning, she saw an apprehensive airport employee rolling over a crate on a cart. The growling turned from growling to whimpering, and Chase could hear the sound of scratching inside the crate, presumably because the creature caught her scent.

"Lukas!" A smile broke out on Chase's face, and she almost shoved the employee aside in order to get to the cart. She quickly placed a tip in his limp hand and raced outside, speaking to the animal all the way.

Lukas was a unique dog, the mix between a wolf and malamute known as a Wolamute who was fiercely loyal and specifically bred to sniff out Wesen. He was originally given to her as a puppy by her old foster parents to help her on hunts, but she quickly befriended the fuzz ball as well.

One thing Chase didn't anticipate was how reluctant taxi cab drivers were to pick up a strange girl and her dog. She'd been standing outside with Lukas on his chain leash and the light mist being illuminated by the sunlight for half an hour. She might not have complained, but when she called the hotel she said she'd be there at two, and it was already one-forty.

Finally, a yellow SUV cab squealed to a stop next to her. In big block letters, the words RADIO CAB were printed along the sides. Instantly, Chase hopped in the cab with Lukas not too far behind. She shook out her short brown hair and looked up to the man who stopped for them. Just your average cab driver, he was balding and wore glasses. An ID attached to the mirror in front of him said MEET ALBERT W.

"Thanks, Albert" she said.

"No prob, but call me Al, where can I take you today, miss?" He asked. Chase disregarded the fact that an older man had used the word "prob" and handed him the sheet which had the address of her hotel on it. He squinted his eyes to read it. "Riverplace, eh? You sure you can…afford that?"

Chase smiled coolly, though she was used to people underestimating her, "yes. I'm sure. I can afford the cab ride too, if you'd just drive." With that he took off, only looking behind him in the rearview mirror suspiciously every two blocks or so.

A Proudly serving Portland since 1946 plaque was attached to the seat in front of her. Lukas became tired of looking out the window and laid his head in her lap, giving her the excuse to pat his head until they reached their destination. As promised, she paid the cabbie, and thanked him kindly for keeping it shut for the trip, though in more civil words. Their room number was 226, and on the way up after checking in, Lukas made a point to growl at the cute bellhop in the lobby. Chase sighed, always the cute ones.

She was almost reluctant to look in the mirror, knowing what she'd see. Mussed up hair, cloudy black eyeliner, deep bags under her bloodshot dark eyes, just the picture of perfection. Chase also knew that she really needed a shower to wash off the last remnants of Detroit. However, all she was capable of in that moment was falling asleep on top of the crisp bed sheets.

Breakfast proved uneventful. Sipping her tea, Chase looked at the housing market for the Portland area on a new laptop, going over the few addresses that she had already written down. The only problem that occurred with having such a big canine companion as Lukas was not being able to get an apartment. Sure, plenty of buildings allowed their tenants to have pets, but she couldn't do that to him, he loved big backyards.

So far Chase found three houses that seemed suitable, and she was waiting for the text from another RADIO CAB driver to alert that they'd be there since she called almost half an hour ago. She definitely thought that having her own car would be useful.

"650 North Alberta Street, please" she spoke to the driver. He didn't say anything, just lowered the fare counter and sped off leaving Chase to look out the window as they drove north.

The house looked sad. With a drooping porch and faded tan walls, Chase grimaced, realizing she'd driven all that way for nothing. An old fashioned smoke-stained chimney stood tall and straight, but that was about it. It's not like she could live in a chimney. Chase left.

If the driver was surprised that she'd hopped right back in his cab, he didn't show it. Chase simply spoke again, "8034 South-East Taylor Court."

Chase grimaced at the color, but decided that this time she'd actually walk in the house. She did. The realtor assigned to the house approached her, asking if she was here for the open house. She answered that she was, but she'd like to explore a bit on her own. Realtor "Maxine" obliged.

Chase started upstairs and worked her way down. So far, nothing had caught her eye. The master-bedroom was average, the bathrooms were average (though the shower looked like it's been made for a little person, she'd have to bend down to use it), and the kitchen had very old, very cheap appliances.

One thing that did catch her eye, however, was the living room. An entire wall of windows could open up to the overgrown backyard. If the sun set in precisely the right way, Chas was sure that beautiful shades of blue and orange would light up the room. It was open, and almost made Chase ignore the shoddy color and tiny shower to accept the realtor's offer right away. Chase was a creature of impulse, but she had to explore the rest.

Finally was the basement, Chase realized that it was unfinished as the fine hardwood turned to concrete on the stairs. Then she got the chills, something was watching her. Chase turned in a circle, trying to pinpoint exactly what was causing the fine hairs on the back of her neck to rise, but all she caught a glimpse of was the peeling wallpaper off to one side. Wallpaper with…something red beneath it? She started to reach out, but a hand on her shoulder had her spinning, raising her arms in self-defense.

"Maxine?" Chase dropped her fists. The realtor didn't seem to notice that she was about to pummel her. In fact, her thin face lit up, looking Chase up and down.

"So? How do you like it? I've been trying to sell for months! Not that there's anything wrong! We've gotten a few offers, I assure you, I can tell you some things about the house if you're on the edge, it's so full of…history!" Maxine's smile widened. Chase really wasn't on the edge anymore, and she wasn't really interested. The house was now just giving her the creeps.

"What do you mean history? Something I should know?" Chase crossed her arms.

"Of course not, dear! But have you seen the office? Perfect for whatever…business you're in!" Maxine looked her up and down. Chase looked down, too. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a hoodie with the faded mascot of a rearing mustang from back when she lived in Colorado. No wonder, since the town had been overrun with Nuckelavee, a horse-type wesen.

In her silence, Chase noticed Maxine gave her another once-over, but her face was very stiff. With a jolt Chase realized that the realtor must be wesen. She could recognize the look of a woge from anywhere. So what was Maxine? Possibly a Luisant-Pecheur, or maybe a Reinigen. Yeah, she looked a bit like a rat.

Still, Chase stayed silent. After a standoff lasting about twenty seconds, Maxine spoke again, her face back to normal. "Well, there was that little issue with the previous owners-"

"-and there we have it." Chase interrupted.

Maxine cleared her throat, "just a bit of homicide. Down here, in the basement."

"Let me guess; the tacky wallpaper is covering up something." At Maxine's glare, Chase concluded, "Yeah, I'm gonna go. I hope you sell this place soon." She said for more Maxine's sake than hers. Chase wasn't sure if ghosts could be on the list of supernatural creatures to look out for, but she really didn't want to find out. Though if the shivers she got from this place were any hint, she'd guess that was a yes.

Even the cab driver jumped a bit when she ducked back in the seat. He looked thankful to drive off, too.

"404 South-West Hamilton Street" she said. Her voice cracked with exhaustion and she leaned back, trying to reverse the headache she could feel was on its way.

Chase realized with a start that she must have fallen asleep in the cab. The driver was staring at her expectantly. She briefly wondered if he spoke at all. Anyway, she smiled and got out of the cab like nothing was wrong, though she could feel the exhaustion coming off of her in waves. Jet lag, maybe?

This time, she was about to walk off when the driver, "Cameron" rolled down the passenger side window. "Got another call." He grunted. Chase just dug her card out of her wallet and handed it to him. Once again, he surprised her by speaking. "The next door neighbor was a suspect in a murder investigation a while ago. Just saying." Then he nodded and sped off without another word. Wow, he'd given her almost two sentences.

Chase looked over at the house next door. It was smaller than 404, but it looked cozy. A light blue color with some nicely-kept shrubbery. She shrugged, it looked alright, and she could take care of herself. With a deep breath, she walked up to the for-sale house and knocked twice.

A single pair of footsteps could be heard inside. It had more substance than that of a female, so Chase simply assumed whoever was going to greet her was male. She heard the locks being slid back to open the door—three of them actually—and only briefly wondered if someone might be a little paranoid before the door opened.

Shaggy blond hair and grey eyes met her gaze after quickly giving her a look. The man had to look down at her because he was very tall, but Chase couldn't say she didn't enjoy the view. He smiled really wide, almost as if greeting an old friend, and his teeth were extremely white. Ever heard the saying "blinded by a smile?" Yeah, this was like that.

"Hi, I'm Chase, er, interested in the open house?" she said. Chase hated the way her words took a questioning lilt to them at the end of her sentence.

The man held out his hand. "Arthur Davis. Nice to meet you, I'm the seller." Chase shook, and the grip on her hand turned his knuckles white. Chase wondered if this guy was aware of his own strength. However, he didn't look like much, wearing faded blue jeans and a button-down grey shirt. It matched his eyes.

"So no crabby realtors to deal with?" She asked.

"None at all," Arthur laughed. "Bought her myself a few months ago. Man, was she a wreck. I flip houses for a living, turning them into something special." Arthur winked. Chase smiled, but didn't hesitate to brush past him into the house. Flirting was not on the agenda.

The house felt open. Windows were streaming in light from the afternoon and the light hardwood flooring was pleasing to the eye. It seemed like the theme of the house was wood—lightwood and dark wood fit together almost like a puzzle—with white-washed walls around her. The house was fully furnished, and she suspected that Arthur was selling the furniture, too. He had good taste, she'd admit, though a few changes were in order. That is if she were to commit.

It was all looking pretty god though. There were four bedrooms with three baths and an unfinished basement. However, this one didn't scare her like the last one, it felt warm. Four beds was a bit much, maybe she could turn one into an exercise room or an office if she found a job soon.

By job, she meant wesen hunting.