A late birthday present for my younger sister! Happy 16th luv!

"Rosalee, please!" begged Monroe.

"No, I need some time alone," said Rosalee, slamming the door behind her.

Monroe hadn't expected his parents to take it so badly. Like, okay, maybe they'd be a bit shocked, but not this!

Growling, he grabbed his coat, knocking over the stand in his anger, and went after her to apologise. Maybe she did need her space, but he didn't want to let her go till he had apologised for his parents' behaviour.

He didn't notice Nick's car pull up behind him.

Nick had wanted to ask for Monroe's help, but the door was wide open. Seeing the stand lying on the ground, he pulled out his gun and went in cautiously.

Pointing the gun at the floor, he pressed himself against the wall, his back to the living room. He could hear angry muttering. Unfamiliar voices. Not Monroe. Not Rosalee.

"Police! Put your hands in the air!"

Startled, the elderly couple woged.

"GRIMM!" yelled the man, and leaped at Nick.

Nick didn't want to shoot them - they might have been Monroe's friends, or at least acquaintances. Instead, he dropped the gun and punched the man in the face. It deteriorated into a full-fledged brawl, both men struggling to get the upper hand, when the unmistakable click of the safety going off halted their fists mid-air.

"Let go of him," said the woman, shakily pointing a gun - his own gun! - at Nick.

The male Blutbad stepped away, rubbing a large bruise on his cheek. Nick wasn't much better. He had a cut over his eyebrow, and his lip had split.

Warily, keeping an eye on the gun, Nick took a step back.

"Who are you?"

"I think we should be asking that," said the woman.

"We should kill him." growled the man, but the woman just shook her head.

"Not here, Bart! Monroe would get-"

"Do you I think I care about him? Now? After what he just told us!?"

Nick's heart fell.

"Where is he? What did you do to him?" asked Nick, frantically trying to check for blood or signs of a struggle. If Monroe had been hurt...

"What did we do to who?"

"The guy who lives here! Monroe! "

In a flash, the man had Nick pressed against the wall, and was baring his fangs.

"What business do you have with him, Grimm?" he spat.

"You'd better not have hurt him!" threatened the woman.

"What? Why would I hurt him? You're the ones who are in his home, and there are clearly signs of a struggle! If you hurt him I swear, I will-"

"-You bastard!" said the woman.

"...what?" asked Nick.

"We would never hurt him!" she exclaimed. "How dare you!"

Nick's head spun. "Umm… Huh?"

"We just came to visit him! What are you doing here?"

"I… came to visit. Monroe said his parents might be dropping by and Rosalee was nervous so I wanted to come see if they were-"

Silence.

Terrible, awkward, silence.

"...You're Monroe's parents, aren't you?"

More silence.

"I'm sorry about punching you. I thought you were going to, y'know, kill me."

"I was."

The ticking of the clocks filled the room. Although the harshness of their breathing had reduced, the occupants were still considerably tense, waiting to see what was next.

The door slammed shut.

"I can't believe you guys did that! How bigoted can you be?! It's a good thing she's got-"

Monroe froze. His father had Nick pinned to the wall, his mother was pointing a gun, and Nick just looked really uncomfortable.

"Ohhkaaayyy…. Mom, Dad, this is Nick. Nick, my parents."

Nick grimaced. "Yeah, we've met."

"Great. So, Mother, if you could let go of the gun. Dad, you can stop crushing his windpipe now he like just got out of the hospital so…"

Grabbing the gun and extracticating Nick, he pushed the other man to the door, placing the gun in his arms.

The Grimm stood on the threshold, confused, and Monroe faced him.

"Nick, man, you're my best friend, and you're great, but you have really shitty timing."

The door slammed shut.