Peppermint Cookies
"How do I smell?" Nick asked one evening in the trailer.
He sat crookedly in the chair, half heartedly turning the pages of one of Aunt Marie's ancient books. Monroe lay opposite him on the old rickety bed, his elbows keeping him perched over a series of loose pages.
"With your nose," Monroe declared, filing another sheet into a folder marked 'Henxbeist'.
They had taken it upon themselves to organise and file every piece of information Aunt Marie had left Nick, and from the way their stomachs growled in unison they had long since missed dinner.
Nick tutted, closed the book and leaned into the chair. He'd had enough of reading. "Seriously. What do I smell like?"
His inquisition earned him a sigh from the Blutbad whose entire face was now concealed behind paper. "Armani?" Monroe offered with a shrug.
"You know what I mean."
Monroe closed his eyes, lowered the papers and massaged his temples roughly. It was getting late, he was hungry and he didn't feel like playing 20 questions.
"Where are you going with this?" he asked. Nick had never shown much interest in the anatomy of a Blutbad other than what Aunt Marie's books had told him. Why was he so interested now?
Nick shook his head. "I'm just interested. I read something that my ancestors wrote back in 1806 about some people smelling sweeter or more sour to Blutbad, depending on their relationship. Like, do I smell different than other people? Am I sweet like candy or sour like lemons? Does it even work that way?"
"Something like that. Generally the sweeter a person smells the more attracted we are to them on an … different level," he explained, pushing himself into a sitting position. "The more sour you smell then the less likely we are to fall for you."
"Do smells change?" Nick asked, the Grimm within urging him to grab pen and paper and record this precious information his ancestors had never bothered to learn.
Monroe shrugged. "They never have for me. I've grown accustomed to smells that have allowed me to be more tolerant of people. Your Aunt Marie for example, smelled strongly of pepper." He stretched a little and leaned into the pillows, then added with a frown, "I'm allergic to pepper, y'know?"
Nick laughed lightly. "Yeah, Aunt Marie had that way about her."
"Feisty," Monroe declared.
They sat in respectful silence for a moment before Monroe cleared his throat and rose with a creaking stretch. "Well then let's go. I've got two veggie steaks defrosting that I'm going to drown in cream sauce," he said, rubbing his hands and moving to the door. "You'll love it."
"You never answered my question though," Nick said.
Monroe found his eyes closing and his fingers tightening around his jacket. He could feel Nick's gaze on the back of his head; his eyes burning a hole in his skull. He sniffed softly; it didn't take much effort to smell Nick, his scent was pronounced and always lingered long after he'd left the scene.
It was a scent that Monroe didn't need to learn to love; Nick had always smelled sweet. Not sweet like sugar; that was too sweet and Monroe usually fell too hard for those people. Nick smelled sweet like Peppermint Cookies; he smelled fresh, warm and left this tingling presence in the back of Monroe's throat every time he walked by.
"Monroe?"
"Peppermint," he announced, looking over his shoulder. "You smell like peppermint."
Nick paused, his eyes fixated on Monroe. Peppermint was sweet, not too sweet but it wasn't sour either. He wasn't entirely sure why he had wanted to know how he smelled; it didn't make sense to need to know but, there was a part of him that desired some sort of confirmation from Monroe. He wasn't sure either what kind of confirmation he was looking for, but he suddenly felt better knowing he didn't smell all that bad to the Blutbad. Nick nodded, rose and made for the door. "Peppermints not that bad, right?"
Monroe smirked. "It's alright," he said. "You smell worse when you don't shower though."
They kept the banter going all the way to the car and back to Monroe's house. The entire journey, unknownst to Nick, Monroe would allow himself to sniff lightly; the peppermint cookie scent wafting up his nose and lingering in the back of his throat.
Monroe wouldn't say he loved Nick, nor would he say he fancied him, but there was something different about this Grimm that Monroe was willing to secretly indulge on an emotional level.
I hope you're all well! I'm trying to catch up on Season 3 before Friday's episode and I've got about 10 episodes to go! I'm dying on the inside because of the Monrosalee. They are amazing together 3