A/N: Just a note to inform readers that I added an "opening quote" to the first chapter. Also, yes, I decided to make Ben an Eisbiber (beaver Wesen), because COME ON, let's face it, in the Grimm world that's TOTALLY what he would be! Ditto Edward as a Hasslich, though that one was just a given...

Chapter 2: Grimms Of A Feather

"Great," moaned Nick, throwing back the lids of dumpsters as he walked through the alley. "Daemonfeuer got away."

Gretel, a few steps behind him, echoed, "Daemonfeuer?"

Nick stopped, waiting for her, leaning against the last dumpster.

"Oh, no, it's okay. She's on our side." She bent down and pulled a small dagger out of her boot; it had gotten dislodged from its sheath during the fight with the reaper and nearly cut her. "For now, anyway."

Nick practically had to bite his tongue to keep from blurting out that Ariel could burn in hell for all he cared. After all, she'd put Juliette, who hadn't even known about the whole Grimm thing back then, in danger. There were some things that were hard to simply forgive and forget. Especially when it came to the people that you loved.

Instead, the tired detective just shook his head. "I wasn't talking about Ariel Eberhart." He sighed. "There was another one. I was chasing him this way when...when I saw you fighting the Reaper."

"I didn't see anyone else..."

"Well, you were a little preoccupied," Nick pointed out, shrugging one shoulder. "I think he hid in one of the dumpsters and took off when I got distracted. Actually, I think I heard him leave..." These pesky new senses of his! He sometimes felt things, knew things, without realizing it until it was too late. What was the good of super hearing if you didn't figure out what you'd heard -or were hearing- until after the fact? "I was just... Just kind of surprised to see...I mean not only Ariel alive after over two years of thinking she was dead... But...another Grimm..."

"I'm sorry about my little scrimmage with that Reaper getting in your way," Gretel said. "You probably think I'm crazy, fighting alongside a Daemonfeuer instead of cutting her head off."

"No, I get it," Nick said. "Two heads are better than one. And if she wasn't threatening you and the Reaper was..." Common sense.

"Your average Grimm wouldn't think like that."

"I guess I'm not your average Grimm, then." He smiled.

"No." Gretel found herself smiling back. "I suppose not."

"I guess I better get back to the precinct and tell the Captain what happened."

Gretel noticed his badge for the first time. "You're a cop."

"Homicide detective."

"And a Grimm." She looked somewhere between overwhelmed and impressed. "Wow, I can't even imagine how hard that must..."

"Sometimes it is," Nick agreed. "Mostly when I have to explain things to normal people without using the word Wesen."

"Well, good luck." Gretel's smile began to wane. She was stepping back into the darker corners of the alley, rubbing the sides of her leather-clad arms, either for relief from soreness or cold.

"Hey, what are you going to do?" Nick asked, concerned.

"Oh, you know, things." Gretel swallowed and pushed a piece of hair behind one ear nervously.

"Okay." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card with his name and number on it. "If you need anything..." A slight tingle ran through the tips of Nick's fingers as Gretel's brushed against them, reaching for the card. "Or if you see any more Reapers and Ariel doesn't feel like playing sidekick..."

"Thanks, Nick."

"We're both Grimms who don't want to cut off the heads of every Wesen we meet. Something of a rare combination," he pointed out. " I guess that makes us kind of responsible for each other." Now that she was holding the card, he pulled his hand away. "Like family."

The very idea of any sort of extended family was sweet in Nick's mind. Sweeter even than a house of candy... It had been a long, long time since he'd had any family. Yeah, having great friends like Monroe, Rosalee, and Hank (and, of course, Juliette's loving support) made it a little easier to bear, but this would be kind of nice, too. Gretel could be like a long lost cousin, almost.

Maybe that was why he didn't want to just leave her in an alley like this... "Are you doing anything for lunch?"

"No," she said softly. "Why?"

"Well, if the precinct wants to be generous and give me an hour off for lunch, I thought maybe you'd like to grab a burger." Nick wondered if it would be impolite to mention he'd heard her stomach growling a couple of times during their short conversation. Apparently not all Grimms were lucky enough to find steady paying work.

"Sure," said Gretel. "There's actually a diner not far from here. Down the street, take a left, right on the curb. Can't miss it. I could meet you there around one, if you want."

"Yeah, sounds great." Nick took out his now vibrating phone. "I'm fine, Hank. I lost Carl. I'm on my way back now." Looking back over his shoulder, he waved to Gretel, who was busy resuming sinking into the alleyway shadows.


Back at the precinct, Sergeant Wu was having a less than pleasant time trying to keep Asher Dwarton and August Applesmith from each other's throats. It was like he imagined being a body guard for The Jerry Springer Show would be. Except, in his personal case, his small Asian frame wasn't quite up to the task. Luckily, neither Asher nor August were all that big. Well, Bianca's stepmother was on the tallish side, but there was no muscle to her; her limbs were willowy and delicate. If Wu hadn't stepped between them, Asher probably could have taken her down with a single blow.

Hank was getting involved, prepared to begin leading August off to an integration room -Wu now holding his arm out in front of Asher to keep him back- when Nick walked through the doors.

"Oh, thank God," Hank muttered flatly, relieved he didn't have to interrogate August by himself.

Then he noticed the look on Nick's face, all bemused and dazed. Could he really be this out of it just from one allegedly druggie Daemonfeuer getting away? Or had something else happened?

Asher reached over Wu's arm and yanked the back of August's hair.

"He's assaulting me, I want his ass arrested!" August protested in a high shrill.

"Really?" Wu moaned, taking a step forward, pushing a still fuming Asher Dwarton further back. These guys were worse than a couple of children!

"Nick," Hank said, looking over at his partner with concern. "You okay?"

"Yeah...fine..." He shook off the lingering thoughts of his morning discovery. He'd think about Gretel later, at a more appropriate time.

"What happened to you, man?"

"You mean how did I let Carl get away?"

"No. You just seem..." Hank chuckled. "You're almost...glowing..."

"I am not glowing," snorted Nick.

"Yeah you are," Hank teased, studying his partner's beaming face curiously. "What's up with you?"

"Dwarton's looking at me threateningly!" August shrieked, waving a perfectly manicured hand in the air dramatically. "I want to press charges. I feel threatened!"

"Can we please talk about this later? Right now we've got a job to do," Nick said, gesturing over at August.


"How would you describe your relationship with your stepdaughter?" Hank asked.

August shifted in her chair. "No worse than most."

"I've noticed Bianca uses her mother's maiden name?" Nick said, looking up from some paperwork. "Are you and Mr. Applesmith...okay...with that arrangement?"

"Are you asking me if either my husband or I could have been resentful enough of the fact that Bianca moved in with her mother's brothers that we'd poison her with chunky fruit pie?"

"Ma'am," said Hank tiredly, "all we're trying to do is our job. Please answer the question."

"No," she said. "No, neither of us would ever do anything that terrible. Why don't you ask Asher Dwarton? He's probably covering up for someone. He's always wanted to see me locked up, so I bet he-"

Nick, looking up again during a moment of betrayed emotion, saw August's face change from a very attractive woman to a hag with rotting skin and razor sharp teeth, glaring at him with practically gleaming reddish eyes. Hexenbiest.

"A Grimm!" Stopping mid-sentence, August jumped up, flinging her chair backwards. "Don't hurt me! If you kill me, you'll go to jail forever. I swear it. My husband, he'll-"

"I'm not going to hurt you," Nick sighed. He was starting to get a little tired of every new Wesen reacting to him this way. But, at the same time, kind of used to it. He wondered if it was this way for all Grimms. Did it ever get tedious for his ancestors? Or maybe, with all their head-chopping, no Wesen/Grimm conversation had ever gotten far enough along for that to even be a real issue. "I just want to find out who poisoned Bianca."

"Well, I didn't." She sat back down and folded her arms across her chest.

Nick noticed that, now that he wasn't an immediate threat, this vain Hexenbiest was busy looking over his shoulder at the mirror, trying to fix her long, voluminous hair.

"Mr. Dwarton claims you and your stepdaughter were in a romantic relationship with the same young man," Hank told August, leaning forward, trying to get her attention away from the mirror. "Carl Fieri."

"Are you suggesting I'm having an affair with that...that boy?" Her eyes snapped away from the mirror, glaring at Hank.

"Are you?" Nick raised an eyebrow at her.

"You're a sick-minded son of a bitch." August actually let him see her woge this time.

Hank, who could see it as well now, blanched and winced automatically. It was always kind of disturbing to see a pretty woman turn into that.

"That doesn't answer my question," said Nick.

"No," she growled, her human face coming back. "Of course not."


Gretel could feel the Bauerschwein's lusty little pig-eyes on her the second she walked into the diner. She wished her brother was with her. Not because she couldn't take care of herself; she could look after herself just fine (even the weakest woman in the world, as far as Gretel was concerned, should be a match for a dead-drunk-before-two Bauerschwein perv, and if she wasn't, well, she should just shoot herself and have done with it), but she didn't feel like teaching this walking bacon factory some manners just now. She wanted Hansel here to kick his sorry pork ass for her. Or maybe she just wanted him here, period. Maybe she just missed him, worried for him, too much.

Regardless, still tired from her fight with the Reaper, all Gretel wanted to do was sit down and wait for the Grimm in peace.

It was five of one. Surely five bloody minutes of tranquility couldn't be too much to ask for? Surely she deserved that much...

Nick had said he'd meet her at one, right? Frankly, Gretel had been so overwhelmed she was having trouble remembering the encounter -the complete conversation- with full clarity. The adrenaline rush to her head had sent her mind spinning. It had only stayed still long enough for her warning about sending her arrow into that damn Reaper's soon-to-be corpse to have been a real threat. She'd have done it, and hit him dead-on, if Ariel hadn't finished him off.

She looked at the card he'd given her. Nick was lucky to have that policeman badge of his. Gretel wished she had a badge to wave in annoying peoples' faces (Wesen or otherwise) when they got uncomfortably close to her.

"I think I need a drink," Gretel decided aloud, walking over to the bar. She didn't have a lot of money on her, and she knew she shouldn't waste it, but with the way that stupid pig was looking at her, she wasn't going to get her peace and quiet, so this was her consolation price. Fair enough. If she had to teach him a lesson, there was no reason to do so with a parched throat.

The Bauerschwein was swaggering towards her like he thought he was God's gift to women.

Please let him figure out I'm an effing Grimm and leave me the hell alone, Gretel silently prayed, slapping her precious last dollars down on the counter and sliding them across to the guy behind the grill-and-bar.

"Hey, girly."

Gretel wanted to vomit. She grabbed her drink the second the man behind the grill-and-bar put it down, chugging. Sadly, not even alcohol could make his unwitting woge revealed to her Grimm sense less repulsive. He was just so...so...disgusting...

"You look roughed up, Baby."

Maybe if I ignore him... She stared at her now half-empty glass like it was utterly fascinating.

He was getting so close to her that she could smell his breath and feel the stink of his body heat radiating off of him. "That's okay," he slurred with puckered lips. "I like 'em dirty."

Don't touch me...

He reached out and grabbed her upper arm.

She shook out of his grip. "Don't." You still don't know what I am? How are you nasty little piggies not extinct? Then Gretel remembered something Hansel had told her once. Not all Bauerschwein were as scared of the Grimms as they should be. Maybe because, compared to other kinds of Wesen, Grimms didn't have such a long history of chopping up ham-heads for the hell of it.

"Don't be like that..." With his other hand, the Bauerschwein made his fatal mistake, he reached to cup one of Gretel's breasts.


Monroe was minding his own business, picking up a couple of hot grilled cheese sandwiches and an order of home-stye fries to go, when Nick walked into the diner, ringing the bells on the door as he entered.

"Hey." Monroe grabbed the bag the man behind the bar-and-grill handed him and went to greet his friend on the way out. "What are you doing here?"

"Meeting someone," Nick told him, looking around expectantly for Gretel. He didn't see her yet... Was he too early?

"Is it Juliette?"

"No, she's either at work or finishing that gingerbread house back in the kitchen." He looked both ways, leaned in, and lowered his voice. "I'm actually meeting another Grimm here."

"Dude!" Monroe's eyes widened, his mouth gaping slightly. "There's another Grimm here in Portland?"

Nick nodded, brow raised.

"When did you find this out?"

"A few hours ago."

"Wow..." This was big news...

"I know."

"What's he like?" Monroe looked a little anxious, looking around the bar stools, wondering if any of the people there could be a Grimm trying to keep a low profile.

"She, actually."

"A female Grimm."

"Like my mom and Aunt Marie."

"Wow..." Monroe mused. "This is...wow..." He looked over his shoulder, then back at Nick. "Is this girl... I mean, is she one of those hardcore, kill the Wesen, ask questions later or...?"

"I don't know," Nick whispered. "I didn't get to talk to her long. But she seemed more like...well, me." He leaned in a little closer. "She was working with a Daemonfeuer against a Reaper this morning."

"And so the plot thickens," Monroe said, a little nervously, clutching the paper bag tighter. "Listen; be safe, and enjoy your meal with the Grimm. I've gotta get these sandwiches back to Rosalee like I promised. We're taking inventory at the spice shop, and we were getting kind of hungry so..."

Nick held up a hand. "Enough said. I'll be fine. See you later."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, go on. Rosalee's probably wondering where you are."

From the other side of the bar there suddenly came a squealing yelp. A young woman's forehead went smashing down on a fat guy's face in a forceful headbutt that knocked him to the ground with a bleeding nose.

She looked down at him, scowling pitilessly. "That was a warning. Next time you touch me -or any other innocent woman- like that, I won't just break it. I'll bite it right off your effing face."

"Yeah, that's it, you tell him!" Monroe called out approvingly. He'd seen this Bauerschwein jerk at various bars in the area, trying to make passes at women's behinds and chests; it was about time someone stood up to him!

Nick was turning a little red in the face, putting his hand to his forehead. "That's her."

The same minute Nick told him, Monroe felt sure that the girl who'd just bloodied the Bauerschwein's nose -looking up in his direction as soon as he spoke- knew him for what he was. "Dude."


"Here you go." Nick handed Gretel a hot dog in tinfoil and a small package of fries in a cardboard holder while the street vendor counted his money.

Gretel choked back a nervous laugh and peeled back the tinfoil. "Thank you."

"No problem." He shrugged. "You're welcome."

"I'm sorry about getting us kicked out of the diner." Gretel took a bite and swallowed, following Nick as he started walking down the street.

He turned to look at her, ready to slow his pace, only to realize she was keeping up just fine. "It's fine. That pig deserved it."

"I know," Gretel sighed. "But for some reason blood all over the floor always makes restaurant owners uncomfortable."

Nick chuckled at that. "Does this kind of thing happen to you in a lot of restaurants?"

"Often enough."

"I see."

"It doesn't happen to you?" Gretel asked.

"I try not to let it. My girlfriend gets upset when I ruin our diner reservations. Besides, a lot of the Wesen here stay their distance pretty well when there's not a crime involved. If one of them attacks me, it usually means something deeper is going on."

"That man," Gretel said thoughtfully, "the one who shouted out when I knocked down the Bauerschwein... You know he was a Blutbad?" She paused. "I mean, I just met you, I don't know how strong your...abilities...are yet...so..."

Nick smiled. "Yeah, that's Monroe, he's a friend of mine."

"You're friends with a Blutbad." It was a statement, not a question.

He tried to answer anyway, with a small nod. "You have a problem with that?"

"No," she said. "Not at all. It's funny... I actually have a very good friend who's an Eisbiber."

"Me too," Nick admitted. "His name's Bud. He was -well, still is, I guess, God forbid the thing breaks down again- my refrigerator repairman."

"My Eisbiber is named Ben," Gretel told him. "He's a little obsessed with us."

"Us?" Nick repeated. "As in Grimms?"

Gretel nodded a little sheepishly, like her friend's Grimm fascination embarrassed her. "Yeah, he collects all this data and knows all this weird stuff about our lives... It's a little weird, but he's a good kid. He wouldn't hurt anyone, or give the information away." She sighed to herself. "Though, it was a little unnerving the first time I saw a poster of me on his bedroom wall."

An inappropriately loud burst of laughter escaped Nick, startling a grumpy old lady at a bus stop they passed. "Sorry, Ma'am."

"My brother doesn't have much patience for him," Gretel went on. "Or any Wesen, really. But, deep down, I think they were starting to grow on each other."

Nick stopped. "Wait, you have a brother?"

"Yes." She stopped too. "Why did we stop?"

"He's like...us...?"

"Of course."

"Is he...here...in Portland?"

Gretel bit onto her lower lip and inhaled sharply, holding back tears only someone in close range would have even noticed were forming. "I don't think so."

"What happened to him?"

She swallowed hard. "I don't know. We were fighting a Hexenbiest in Seattle... It was raining...really hard...lightning striking everywhere. Something went wrong. I remember the Hexenbiest making a grab for my throat, Hansel trying to protect me by ripping her claws off my neck... Then it was dark, I don't know how long this lasted, but I didn't see or hear anything... Until there were these gasps and moans...and I knew it was my brother... He's a diabetic; he needs to take insulin every few hours or he'll die. He needed it and it was out of his reach and I tried to crawl over to him, there was blood on my arm and on my neck, and another puddle of blood that wasn't mine..." She stopped for a moment, closing her eyes, either unable to go on or simply just trying to remember what happened. "Something snatched him away from me. It got to him before I did." She reached into a small leather pouch attached to the side of her coat, fingering a small item she had stored in there. "I have his insulin needle; they left that behind."

"And what happened after that?"

She blinked and inhaled sharply. "A friend helped me heal up. Edward, a Hasslich; he took care of me until I was better. By then, Hansel and whoever took him..." She pulled her lips in tightly, then exhaled. "They were long gone."

"Do you think he's...?" Nick didn't want to say dead...but...

"I should," Gretel said quietly, looking down at her hands. "I know I should..."

Nick noticed a bench less than a foot away, and sat, still listening to the rest of Gretel's story as her eyes drifted from her hands over to him again.

"But I don't." She sucked her teeth defiantly. "We shared a womb. We're twins, inseparable from birth." Shaking her head, as if at herself, Gretel sat down beside him. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I feel him... I sense his heartbeat like we're still children lying in a cradle so small there's not even room to turn and you feel every breath...

"I know Hansel can't live without the insulin, and I can't imagine a way he could have survived, but I feel like I'd know if he was dead." She rested her hands on her knees. "Because a big part of me would be, too."

"I'm so sorry." Nick knew only too well what it was like to lose -or be threatened with the loss of- someone that close to you. Not even the worst beatings he'd ever taken had hurt as much as that.

"Me too." She smiled weakly over at him.

This time, Nick actually thought she might cry for real, so he reached out and took one of her hands, squeezing gently. "It's all right. You're not alone now. Who knows, maybe we can find your brother. Maybe I can help somehow."

The warmth of his hand comforted her and she squeezed back before pulling away and tucking it into the pouch again. "I'd like that," she said, "but I don't know what you can do. I've been searching for almost three months now. And I didn't come to Portland because I thought he was here. I thought it was just me. Alone."

This -Portland- was almost where she came to give up, Nick realized. To give up without quitting for real. Which her sense of his still being alive wouldn't allow her to do, no matter how strong the temptation got.

"How did you get mixed up with Ariel?" Nick wanted to know.

"It's a long story," Gretel said, with a half-shrug. "Hansel wouldn't have trusted her as far as he could spit. Daemonfeuer women act too much like a Hexenbiest for comfort, he always says." Her voice cracked a little as she tried to deepen it to sound like her missing brother. "But I trusted her. To a point. And she saved my life." She looked at Nick pointedly. "I mean, you saw it."

"And the Reaper?"

"I don't know how he found me."

"You should just do what I did the last time they came after me."

"And what's that?" She sounded curious.

"Cut off their heads and send them back to headquarters."

She grinned. "You really did that?"

"Monroe helped some," he admitted. "But I killed them first."

"Both?" Gretel sounded impressed. "By yourself?"

He tried to look modest, mostly failing. "Yes."

"Usually, Hansel and I are match for any Reapers they send after us, but we never went solo. I don't know what I would have done without Ariel's help. I probably could have handled him by myself, I've had enough practice, but it's nice in a way that I didn't have to find out."

"Why did she run off?"

"Ariel? I don't know."

"I hope she doesn't come back."

"I don't really care either way." Gretel pushed her braided hair back over her shoulder. "But it was good to have a friend again."

"Hey," said Nick gently, catching her sad gaze. "You have more than one."


Juliette was walking out of a health food store (she'd made a pit-stop on her lunch break) carrying a paper grocery bag when she realized she had forgotten to call Nick and ask what he wanted for supper.

She struggled to hold the bag with one arm and take out her iphone with the other. Her eye happened to look up, across the street, as soon as she'd managed it, her thumb hovering over her contact list, and she caught a glimpse of Nick himself.

What was he doing out of work? Well, that certainly made it a little easier, if nothing else. She could just walk over there and ask him what he wanted. She dropped the phone back into her coat pocket and got a better grip on the bag.

That was when she saw it.

Nick wasn't alone. There was a woman with him. A pretty one, dressed in disturbingly skin-tight leather.

Could she be someone he was interviewing on a case? If so, why was he alone? Why wasn't Hank or Sergeant Wu there with him?

The woman said something, and Nick reached out and held her hand.

Even from across the street, Juliette could see the tenderness in his expression. A small stab of jealousy pricked at her, and she stiffened. Who was this woman and why was Nick holding her hand?

Juliette willed herself to think rationally. Not too long ago, she'd been a little on edge when she found an email of Nick's stating that someone called "M" loved him, only to find out it was his dead mother. Who wasn't really dead after all...

This could be just like that, couldn't it?

Except, this woman was clearly not his mother. She might have looked a little like Nick in her coloring and mannerisms, but she was way too young to be his mother. Did he have a sister or cousin she didn't know about? He'd said no more secrets; he'd promised to tell her everything, now that she knew -and believed- about him being a Grimm.

But he hadn't told her about whoever this was...

I could go right over there, Juliette reminded herself. I could go right now and introduce myself. I'm sure there's an obvious explanation.

Still, she didn't like the gentle -almost lovestruck- way Nick was looking at this leathery Bond-girl type chick.

No, she'd confront him at home. Not here.

And as for supper? She could call later. Maybe. There was no rush. He obviously had some time to spare he hadn't mentioned earlier...


"Did your parents really name you Hansel and Gretel?" Nick asked, as he rolled the car to a stop at a yellow light. Hansel and Gretel the Grimms? Was that supposed to be funny?

"Yeah, I guess our father was into the precious-sounding names," Gretel said, leaning her head back on the seat. "Or maybe it was our mother."

"You don't know?" The light changed and Nick put his foot down on the gas.

"No. Sometimes I wish I did." Gretel turned her head, still leaning, to look at the lights of Portland bouncing off the window.

"Did something happen to them?" Even though Gretel wasn't looking at him, Nick could see her reflection in the glass out of the corner of his eye, and he knew that expression. It was the same one he used to have when talking about his parents. Back before he knew his only one of them had actually died.

"They left us," Gretel told him.

"Left you?"

"Me, Hansel... One night we were in our room, sleeping, because it was really late, and our father came in, grabbed us, literally drove us to the middle of nowhere and just left."

"God."

"God had nothing to do with it," Gretel murmured, almost more to herself than to Nick. "Hansel thinks it was our mother's idea." She turned away from the window, looking at him again now. "He said he heard her talking to him, outside our room, before it happened. That he wasn't really asleep."

"And you never found out why?" Nick turned a curb.

"Hansel didn't like to talk about it," she explained. "For years, I still had dreams about them most nights. When I woke up, my brother was the only person I had to turn to, but he wouldn't listen. He always made me stop. It was just too painful for him."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

Nick gestured at the windshield. "Where do you want to be dropped off? Is this close to where you're staying?"

Gretel looked down at the crossbow by her feet, and lied. "Yes. You can let me out here."

It was a decent street, quiet, with a nice-looking hotel just up the block. Nick put the car in park. "See you around."

Gretel undid her seat-belt and opened the door. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. You still have my card. Call if you need anything."

"I will."

"Okay then."

"Bye." Gretel grabbed her crossbow, made sure her pouch was still attached to her coat, and got out, shutting the door behind her.

She stood there, on the sidewalk, waiting until his car disappeared from sight. And then she waited a few seconds longer, just in case. No, he really was gone. Time to get a move on. It was already dark, and she couldn't stay here.

At least the ride had helped somewhat. Now it was a shorter distance to Forest Hills than if she'd had to walk back from the street where they'd had hot dogs for lunch. Which was where she'd still been when Nick had gotten off his afternoon shift at the precinct. Why had she stayed? Maybe she was just tired. Or maybe she was hoping Ariel would come back and give her a better option than breaking into a trailer again tonight.

Whenever she went to the storage yard at Forest Hills, Gretel always broke into a different trailer, RV, or boat. Never the same one twice. And always ones that were obviously vacant -at least for the night.

That way, she was never caught.

Nick didn't know that she couldn't afford to stay even a fairly low-rate hotel, and when he'd seen her still sitting there, offering her a ride on his way home, Gretel decided not to refuse. He'd been good to her. Listening to her talk about her brother, and buying her lunch... And, most importantly, he was a Grimm, like her. She could trust him. And if not, if -God forbid- something went wrong, well, she'd just give him a taste of what the Bauerschwein had had earlier. Simple as that. Even Hansel would have thought accepting the ride was a good idea. He wouldn't want her wandering around Portland after dark any longer than she needed to. Too much chance to get into trouble. Or for trouble to find her, even as she tried so hard to avoid it. And, in the dark, there were bound to be worse things on the street than a drunk Bauerschwein.

So here she was, walking down the street alone, looking over her shoulders, always on guard, but not really afraid. This was nothing. She'd faced worse. The truly awful part about walking alone after dark was the loneliness, not the fear. She missed Hansel more at moments like these. Gretel was never exactly a social butterfly, but that didn't mean she liked to be alone when things were getting dark and cold out.

Reaching the edge of the storage yard, Gretel stopped at a wire fence. She took off her coat, threw it over so her crossbow would have something soft to land on when she hurled it next, and then started to climb.

Once at the top, she swung her leg over and started to climb back down on the other side.

Two feet off the ground, she let go, landing on her feet.

Picking up her coat and throwing it back on haphazardly while her crossbow propped against a broken wooden crate for a few minutes, she scanned the nearest trailers for signs of vacancy.

It was a quiet night. No noise except the rattle of the nearby railway tracks. No one was watching her.

She finally decided on a small, fairly inconspicuous-looking trailer and made her way over smoothly and confidently. That way, even if somebody did see her, she wouldn't look like she was sneaking; they'd think she belonged here.

You didn't get abandoned by your parents at a young age without picking up some invaluable breaking and entering skills. Picking the lock was little more than child's play. Her fingers were getting numb, but Gretel remind herself that soon she'd be out of the wind, which -even if this trailer didn't have heat or a stove (like she hoped)- would be a vast improvement on her current situation.

The door opened with a click and a creak.

"Yes!" Gretel heard herself mutter under her breath.

Walking in and shutting the door behind herself, she almost immediately began to wonder if she'd made a mistake.

Glass bottles full of liquids, some of them with German labels, lined counters and shelves. Books everywhere. Even a spot that looked like it had recently been used as a study-corner. Things piled up around that spot in a semicircle.

Needing to be certain, Gretel fast-walked to the wardrobe and flung it open. Weapons. Guns, a crossbow, an ax, a mace...

One of the books lay open on a table, when Gretel shut the wardrobe and whirled around, she saw the detailed drawing.

It was of a Wesen in full woge. "Shit!"

Oh, yes, she'd made a mistake, sure as hell.

She'd just broken into a fellow Grimm's trailer. Sorry, Nick...


"Juliette? I'm home."

Juliette was waiting for Nick as he came in the door. Arms crossed, she rose from the couch, turning around with a less than thrilled expression on her face. "You're late."

"Yeah, I had to drop someone off after work," Nick told her, taking off his coat. A warm aroma reached his nostrils; he sniffed. "Something smells great! Is that dinner?"

"Yes," Juliette said, a tense edge to her voice. "I was going to call and ask what you wanted, but you looked a little busy."

Nick was leaning in to kiss her when the words registered and she took a few steps back, tightening her still crossed arms. "Wait, what do you mean I looked busy?"

"I was hoping," Juliette said pointedly, "that you could tell me. I saw you this afternoon, sitting on a bench with some strange woman dressed like Charlie's Angels." Her arms uncrossed and one hand went to her hair as she flicked it back over her shoulder. "And..." A light snort escaped her. "Well, here's the really funny part...you..." (She didn't sound like she thought it was funny at all) "...you were holding her hand."

Nick's mouth formed a perfect O. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"I..."

"Nick, I'm waiting."

"Juliette, it's not what you think," he tried to assure her. "She's a friend. Her brother's missing; she was really upset, and I was just trying to comfort her."

"Ooh-kay..." She stared into his face like she was scanning it for lies. "If she's your friend, how come I've never met her?"

"Because I just met her today."

"What?" Juliette hadn't expected that.

A smile broke onto Nick's previously defensive face, delighted to be able to share what was really going on with his girlfriend for once. "She's a Grimm."

"No way!" Juliette gasped. "That's..."

"I know," Nick laughed. "It's mind-blowing. I didn't think there was anyone else like me in Portland..."

Juliette grabbed his arm and led him over to the couch. "I can't wait to hear about it. What happened? How did you find her?"

"Well, it all started with this case that had me chasing a Daemonfeuer-"

"Daemonfeur," Juliette echoed. "That's the thing that kidnapped me, right? That crazy woman who died in the fire?"

Nick decided now might not be the best time to tell her Ariel was still alive. He had a story to finish. Besides, it would figure into the story in the right place. Or maybe he just wouldn't say who the Daemonfeuer woman fighting alongside Gretel that morning had been...

That might be for the best.

At least for the time being, there was no need to worry Juliette about that crazy fire-breathing stalker coming back into their lives. She was already upset enough without that.

"Yes," Nick said shortly, pressing on. "Anyway, there I was, chasing this guy, and he jumps into a dumpster..."


After finishing the story of how he met Gretel, and having a lovely dinner of Juliette's fine cooking, Nick double-checked to make sure she was all right.

"I'm sorry if what you saw today upset you," he whispered, putting his arms around his girlfriend lovingly, pulling her close. "I just hope you know I would never do anything to hurt you like that." He leaned close to her earlobe and neck. "I love you."

"I know," she whispered, leaning into his touch. "I'm sorry I overreacted. I just... I couldn't process what I saw." She turned and put her arms around his neck. "But I should have had more faith in you."

"I was thinking of going down to the trailer tonight," Nick told her. "Looking up some Wesen facts for a couple hours." He played with a strand of her beautiful red hair. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Oh, Nick, I'd love to, but I can't." Juliette looked over her shoulder back at the counter. "I have to make a couple more of those gingerbread houses for the fundraiser."

"I thought you were done," he protested.

"Well, I thought I was only going to have to make one but then a couple people at the office called to say their kids had the flu and they couldn't do it, so..."

"So we're stuck with a kitchen turned into a candy-house factory." Nick hoped he sounded playful and not venomous when he said that. It wasn't Juliette's fault. She didn't even know about his creepy nightmares... There was no need to take it out on her.

"No," Juliette promised, "it won't be anything like that. Just a couple more houses, and a little less counter space until I can take them in."

"Well, I guess that's all right, then."

"Yeah, is that all right?" Juliette teased, kissing him on the mouth and tugging playfully at his shirt.

"I could stay here tonight," he murmured.

"As much fun as that sounds," Juliette sighed, "I don't think I'll get these gingerbread houses done if you do."

"I'll only be gone a couple of hours."

"Take your time."

"See you." He gave her a final peck on the cheek.

"Love you."


For some reason, a light was on in the trailer. Nick put one hand on his gun, slowly walking up to the door and opening it.

It wasn't even locked. He knew he hadn't left it like that. Who the hell had broken into the trailer this time? What utter crap! Nick ground his teeth in frustration. Couldn't he just have one normal night in his life? One night where there wasn't conspiracy of traps and break-ins and Reapers and Wesen and everything but the kitchen sink?

Stepping in, Nick drew his gun and pointed it at the back of the trespasser. "Freeze!"

She whirled around, crossbow in hand, pointed in self-defense, breathing a sigh of relief when she recognized him. "Nick."

"Gretel." He lowered his gun.