HELLO ALL! I AM BACK AND HOPEFULLY MORE ON TRACK THAN I HAVE BEEN WITH MY WRITING. THIS STORY HAS BEEN RATTLING AROUND IN MY HEAD FOR QUITE SOMETIME, LONG BEFORE NADALIND BECAME A HASHTAG. BEAR WITH ME AS WE START AT THE BEGINNING, WHICH I ALWAYS FIND IS A GOOD PLACE TO START. I WILL UPDATE EVERY WEDNESDAY. FIRST FULL CHAPTER WILL BE UP THIS WEDNESDAY. ENJOY A TASTE, THANK YOU FOR READING, AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK.
I DO NOT OWN GRIMM OR ANY OF THE WONDERFUL CHARACTERS YOU MAY RECOGNIZE, I JUST ENJOY PLAYING WITH THEM. ALL NEW WESEN AND MYTHOS COME FROM THE TANGLE THAT IS MY MIND.
The elevator door opened to the frantic pace of a metropolitan precinct. Adalind Schade peeked her head around the doors checking for anyone who would recognize her and question her presence. There was no way for her to go unnoticed; she tended to stand out no matter where she went. Her long blonde hair was pin straight for her appearance in court, expensive tailored dress suit cut to accentuate her natural curves, and Manolo Blahniks clacking on the tile of the hall outside of the Homicide department. A simple looking but obviously expensive black leather bag hung from her shoulder, currently crammed with her needs for court hung from her left arm while in her right hand held a small brown basket, precisely wrapped and tagged.
Several people, plain clothes detectives and uniformed officers alike stared at her as she walked with purpose to the desk she sought. It was slightly cluttered, but she could see the pattern of organization in the chaos, exactly what she was expecting. Adalind let a smile and light chuckle escape her ruby colored lips. Not wanting to disturb anything she placed the small basket down by the name plate, Det. Nicholas Burkhart. A few men still watched her as she left the gift on the desk and left without delay. If this was the scariest thing she did today than court would be a breeze.
Nicholas Burkhart, Nick to basically everyone who knew him, strolled into the precinct with a look of satisfaction on his face for catching the home intruder who had killed an elderly couple. The knowledge that the piece of trash they caught would not hurt another innocent person helped him ignore the pain from the hits he had taken to the face and ribs. His partner, Hank Griffin, looked just as pleased but not nearly as sore. Hank's size usually deterred suspects from attacking him first, assuming Nick to be the weaker of the two. He sure hoped the broken arm the perp was booked with was a lingering reminder to not judge a man by his size.
Nick put his coat off and placed it on the back of his chair, stretching out the stiffness he was starting to feel on his left side. "Hey Burkhart, you got a present!" Sgt. Wu called across the room, drawing Nick's eye to the basket by his computer screen. He nodded his head in acknowledgment of the call out, plucking the card from the front of the beautifully wrapped gift.
"A promise is a promise." Nick read the note, smirking when he recognized precise but elegant handwriting. He put the card in his pocket and untied the ribbon holding the basket wrappings closed, the smell of chocolate hit his nose, making his stomach growl as he realized he had not eaten that morning. He picked up one of the oversized chocolate chip cookies from the basket, still warm, and took a generous bite. He smiled, 'She was right, it was worth every minute.'