AN: Thank you all for the great feedback. Makes me so happy and keeps the muse humming. Some of you were hoping for a more romantic type party, and unfortunately, office parties just aren't that exciting, unless there's a lot of alcohol involved (sometimes the only way to survive them). Anyway, hopefully you won't be too disappointed.

%%%%%%%%

She had forgotten how well he cleaned up. He was wearing a charcoal suit, black dress shirt and tie—one that Adalind had picked out—and he looked…really good. He had been dressed in a suit when she had doubled dated with Hank and him and Juliette, she remembered, and she recalled he had looked good then, too.

He didn't appear to be nervous about tonight, but then again she supposed after hunting Wesen and murderers and fighting repeated attempts on his life, or her life, or anyone else's he cared about, maybe it was all relative. A cocktail party with 150 people he didn't know or even care about really probably was a drop in the bucket compared to a secret organization or a supernatural uprising that spanned continents or whatever else normally occurred in his life.

She watched him fiddle with a cufflink, surprised he even had cufflinks, and then moved to help him as he fumbled with it.

"I got it," he said with a brief smile, and indeed, by the time Adalind reached him, he was working on straightening the other one. He smiled at Adalind, looking as handsome as she had ever seen him, and she debated on seeing whether she could convince him to about face and head home. She could be quite convincing if she needed to be. Rosalee and Monroe had taken Kelly for the night. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly empty loft and babysitter with something like a cocktail party.

"Don't even think about it," Nick said.

"What?" she blinked, looking at him. He flashed her a knowing look. "You've got that look about you. I know I may be irresistible tonight, but hands off." She narrowed her eyes in disbelief and he grinned wider. "At least until after the party, then you can put your hands wherever you like."

She scoffed, and he smirked and put his hand against the small of her back to direct her to the maître-d who looked at Nick primly.

"Adalind Schade" he said, "Guest of honor."

"Berman, Rautbort and Associates," Adalind said, and the maitre'd led them towards the back of the restaurant. Nick's hand was warm and solid on her back as he guided her around tables to a large room divided from the rest of the restaurant by two sets of French doors. Adalind entered and halted suddenly as everyone in the room began to clap, and she felt both flattered, embarrassed, and exposed. Nick still pressed close against her where he had almost run into her when she had stopped and she smiled at everyone, took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Drink. Mingle. Go home. Well, the sooner she got started the sooner they could leave. She grabbed a flute off a tray, raised her glass to everyone and Nick, who had snagged some champagne himself, and tipped her head back.

"Adalind!"

She pulled the champagne away, and smiled at Berman, the surgically enhanced hag who was his wife beside him, and Rautbort and his boyfriend standing together over near the bar.

"Adalind, you remember my wife Shannon?"

Shannon, yes, that was her name. Adalind did remember her. She went to a spa every three to four months and every time she came back something different was about her face. Or body. She spent Berman's money like some people went through toilet paper and other than the obvious, which wasn't that obvious really, Adalind had no idea what Berman saw in her.

"Of course," Adalind said, and then said hello to Rautbort and Scott, his partner. "This is Nick," she added, and hoped that would be enough since she still didn't know what exactly she should call him. Nick shook hands with everyone, and Adalind thought they might get through it all okay until Berman said, "So Nicholas, how do you know our Adalind?"

Nicholas?

"Oh, we met about…six years ago, was it?" he said turning to her as though actually trying to remember. Yes, when I tried to kill your aunt in the hospital, and stabbed you with the poison instead. Oh, God. The good ole days, as Nick referred to it. She was going to need another drink. "I actually saw her for the first time outside your offices as a matter of fact."

"Oh? Were you one of her clients then?"

"No, I was actually picking up a ring from the jeweler next door," Nick replied, and Adalind tried not to look surprised at this admission. She had never known he and Juliette had been engaged. "It didn't work out," Nick added when Shannon and a few others who had joined the group glanced between them. And Adalind snorted into her champagne. That was the understatement of the year.

"Lucky for you," Rautbort said with a wink and Adalind quickly finished her drink and grabbed another one from a server walking by.

"So Nicholas, what is it you do?" Shannon asked, looking him over, and Adalind narrowed her eyes. She was right here, for pete's sake. Not to mention the woman's own husband, but Berman seemed oblivious, or maybe he just didn't care.

"I'm a homicide detective for the Portland P.D.," Nicholas replied, glancing at Adalind, who had finished her drink and was eyeing Nick's.

"Really? How…interesting," Shannon replied, clearly taken aback somewhat. Probably thought Nick was her tennis instructor, or dog walker or something. Shannon looked at Adalind and Adalind couldn't refrain from smirking.

"That must be absolutely depressing, sometimes, I can't imagine."

"It has its moments," Nick agreed.

"Adalind, someone said you had had a baby," Scott interjected. Lane. Lane had said no doubt.

"Yup," she said, "A little boy, he just turned one."

"How adorable."

"You must bring him and show him off sometime," and Adalind smiled thinking about Kelly. Maybe she would bring him in one day, show him his mommy's office. He loved to go down to the police station and see Nick, but then he loved to see Nick period.

"So Nicholas, I'm sure you've seen the article in the paper last week. What do you think is the reason for the increase in crime in Portland in the last few months?" Berman asked, "and particularly violent crime. It said that homicides had increased 13% over last year."

"You must keep busy," someone commented, and Nick smiled wryly. "There are many reasons for that increase, and we've got some good detectives out in the field on it, but that's not why we're here," Nick remarked politely, smiling at Adalind, who shook her head so slightly no one but probably him noticed it. He narrowed his eyes in response.

"Are you doing anything to catch these criminals?" Berman persisted, and Adalind bristled. Obviously he didn't recall Nick and Hank were the detectives who investigated the law firms last two mysterious deaths, but then Berman had never been particularly observant about stuff like that. It explained his wife's behavior; she obviously wasn't concerned she'd get caught by him.

Nick was actually a very good cop, had read, or heard from Sean, maybe, that he was one of the youngest to ever make detective in Portland Police history. Even when you looked outside of him being a Grimm he had a decent solve rate, and when you factored that in, he had the best solve rate in the whole city. She had noticed a couple of awards, even, on the walls at the station with his name on them, but he had brushed them off when she pointed them out.

"Okay, Berman," someone said, and Adalind recognized Louis Parker, who she had worked with and…slept with…several years ago. "I think we can revisit that some other time. Hello Adalind," he said, kissing her on the cheek. "You look wonderful. I hear you're back with us?"

"That's why we're here," Adalind replied.

"And you're-? I'm sorry Berman was blathering on and on so I didn't quite catch your name?" Louis said, turning to Nick.

"Nick Burkhardt," Nick said offering his hand and Louis shook it.

"Adalind, let me get you another drink. What are you having?"

"Alcohol," she said without thinking and everybody laughed as though she had said something witty. God it was going to be a long night if this kept up.

"Come, I want to introduce you to some new people," Rautbort said. "Nick, you don't mind if I borrow your charming wife, is it?" Adalind started shaking her head, but he didn't wait for a response. Nick refrained from rolling his eyes, the assumption that they were married one he dealt with frequently.

"Oh, I didn't know she got married!" Adalind heard someone exclaim as she was led away.

She rolled her eyes when she heard "Well, obviously, she had a baby," also reach her ears. She gave Nick a helpless look and let herself be dragged off by Rautbort and Louis. She noticed Berman turn back to Nick and then the rest turned back to their own conversations.

%%%%%%%

Rautbort led her around the room for thirty minutes, introducing or reintroducing her to some of the other lawyers at the firm. Louis trailed along with him, sipping his champagne and watching her carefully. It was clear after five minutes of conversation that Louis was ready to pick things up where they left off in their relationship. Problem was, Adalind hadn't been attracted to Louis beyond what he could do for her, and suffice to say, there wasn't anything he could do for her now that Nick wasn't already doing a hundred times better. She had thought maybe she had broken it off when he had mentioned a wife, but honestly, it had been seven or eight years ago.

"I must say, I have a hard time imagining you married," Rautbort remarked.

"Makes two of us," she said, almost holding her hand out to show him there was no ring, but then she thought better of it. Perhaps having a husband would deter interested parties (Louis) from pursuing her. Then again, him having a wife hadn't deterred him before.

"And a baby I hear? How domestic of you. I would have never had guessed."

"Yes, well, we all grow up sometimes," she said with a polite smile and Rautbort returned one of his own. He excused himself and disappeared near one of the food tables, leaving Adalind with Louis. She glanced around for an escape.

"Rumor is he's a Grimm," Louis said, and she turned back to him with narrowed eyes. "There's also a rumor, that you're no longer a hexenbiest. The Grimm took your powers?"

She had forgotten Louis was one of their more devious partners, and she recalled with sudden clarity that was one of the reasons she had liked him before.

"Well, you know what they say about rumors," she said.

"Yes, that they're usually true. My dear girl, what are you thinking?"

"It's complicated," Adalind said, hoping he would drop the subject. She assumed he was referring to when she had first left the firm, years ago, when Nick had taken her powers. She didn't know where he had come across that little tidbit, but her abrupt departure likely aroused several people's curiosity. She didn't know how much her mother would have said, either. She had not been pleased that Adalind has allowed herself to be used in such a way. Honestly, she had been totally floored by Nick's ploy. Equal parts repulsed and intrigued, ashamed to admit it, and to admit that she had been so cleverly outmaneuvered. Never in all her years of hearing and fearing of Grimms did she ever expect one to behave as Nick did, then and now.

He stepped closer, right into Adalind's personal space. "The child you have is his?"

Well, that was quite forward of him. He was disturbingly well informed, Adalind thought, wondering where he got his information. Like their relationship, it wasn't a big secret that Nick and Adalind had a child together, but it wasn't something they advertised. The few people outside their inner circle that knew about it, didn't realize the significance of it.

Adalind had always had a pretty strong sense of self-preservation, but since losing Diana she had an even stronger inclination to protect her child. Both were fighting for dominance, so it was this that influenced her to say, "So long as he thinks so."

Louis smiled. "There's also a rumor that you are raising the child with the Grimm."

The Grimm had a name, she thought, but said instead, "That's a lot of talk at the watercooler. We have an arrangement," she replied, wondering what business it was of his.

"I'm surprised to see him here with you," Louis observed, "but then you did know how to make an entrance. I can't imagine what you mean by it, showing up with him."

See she knew it was a bad idea for them to go to this party together. This-this—was exactly what she was talking about when she was trying to explain it to Rosalee.

"We both had Friday night off and nothing better to do," she retorted. "Also, Lane invited him." Louis raised his eyebrow and smiled a slick grin across his face and she suppressed a shudder. She really wished that anybody else would come interrupt their conversation, but no one bothered them. He leaned closer and Adalind smiled tightly.

"There's a revolution coming, you know," he told her, watching her closely. "I certainly hope when the time comes we can count on you to be on the right side of it."

She managed to maintain her composure, but she couldn't stop the prickle of anxiety, suddenly wondering what he was trying to get at.

"Of course," she said.

"I can imagine with the child he's obviously going to keep you close to him. The question Is, do you want to be kept close?"

Yes, she thought resolutely, but she sensed Louis was looking for something particular in her response, and years of playing both sides of the coin surged suddenly in her memory. Always best to hedge your bets, she thought, until she could determine what Louis was about. "No one else is volunteering with what I would need. Nick makes sure my son is safe, and no harm comes to him or I as long as we remain with him," she said.

"We could use someone on the inside," he continued in a murmur. "Someone close to him. I understand you feel isolated without the support of your Wesen friends. This could be a way out from under the Grimm's control." And Adalind raised her eyebrow and wished for another drink. "Your talents are being wasted, my dear. Perhaps you might be interested in using them where they might be appreciated."

Ugh, she wanted away, away, away from him. He was talking of her betraying Nick, risking her chilid, her family, his friends, some of which were now her friends. Or at least Rosalee, she supposed. The others still didn't trust her enough—they trusted Nick, and he trusted her, and this that he was talking about would prove every one of their assumptions about her right.

"That's an interesting proposition," she responded. "One to think about for sure," and Louis nodded.

"We can help you get your powers back, make you complete," he added, and Adalind managed a look of intrigue, but secretly if she never became a hexenbiest again she would be content. She had Kelly and Nick, and she didn't want that life anymore.

"I think I see Lane waving me over," she murmured, making it up, but he didn't bother turning around anyway.

"We'll be in touch. Occultatum Libera." he said, and Adalind nodded and slipped away quickly. She didn't look behind her but she could feel him watching her as she walked away from him.

%%%%%%

She was reasonably sure that if she wiggled enough, she could fit through the bathroom window. The hardest part was going to be reaching it. The bottom ledge was six feet off the round, and there weren't really any good footholds to be had. If Nick were in here she could ask for a boost, but Nick wasn't in here, and in fact she hadn't seen him for a good forty-five minutes.

Nick may have already said the hell with this and boosted himself out of his own bathroom window.

Maybe he got called in on a homicide, or he told Trubel or Eve or someone to actually commit a homicide so he could be called in.

Maybe she had had too much to drink.

She squinted at the window again and then turned when the stall opened up, a vacant smile before she locked herself in.

"I heard you got married?" the woman said, and Adalind placed her head in her hands. "Your husband is hot."

Yes, he kind of was. Except the part where they got married and he was her husband.

"Thanks," Adalind said, when she wasn't sure what she should say. She was pretty sure if she tried to deny it now, no one would listen to her anyway.

"Weren't you going out with somebody else at the police station? I remember him, and your guy, that wasn't him." Sean. She meant Sean.

"What can I say, I have a type," she said, and then flushed the toilet so she could drown out any more commentary. She held the handle down for a good fifteen seconds before leaving the stall.

The woman was gone, thankfully, and Adalind at least got to wash her hands in peace before crossing leaving via bathroom window off her list. She did have a type, and Nick was as far from it as imaginable. Smart, successful, powerful, devious, rich. It was eye-opening to say that Louis had at one time been exactly her type. Nick was smart. He was successful, she supposed though not in a wall-street kind of way, and as a Grimm he was powerful, but he was definitely blue-collar.

"Ah, Adalind! There you are," Lane's voice sounded from behind her, and she closed her eyes in resignation before spinning around. "Lane!" she faked a smile.

"I've got you another drink."

"Excellent," she said and snatched it from him. She was halfway through what tasted like a blueberry martini when Nick sidled beside her from somewhere.

"You might want to slow it down," Nick advised, watching her warily.

"I'm fine," Adalind said, flipping her head back and downing another swallow.

"I'm not carrying you home," he told her. Except he would carry her home and they both knew it.

"Nicholas! Glad you could join us!" Louis exclaimed, and Adalind tensed beside Nick. She wondered if Nick noticed anything off about Louis, besides being Wesen. "We're just getting ready to salute our guest of honor."

"Great," Nick said, then muttered an "excuse me" to look at his phone, which was buzzing in his pocket.

Oh, a homicide. Please let it be a homicide, she pleaded, but he glanced at the message and then put it away in his suit jacket, looking attentively at the guests assembling, and flashing a smile at Adalind when he noticed her watching.

"Berman! We need you up front here," and there she thought she saw something flicker in Nick's eyes, but the booze made her a bit fuzzy, and Louis made her anxious, and Nick was hard to read sometimes. Berman made his way to the front of the room, as did Rautbort, and the trio talked quietly amongst themselves for a few minutes before addressing the crowd with some general welcoming remarks.

"I'm so ready to go home," Adalind muttered into Nick's ear when he slipped an arm around her waist to guide her slowly to the front of the room. She felt a little steadier with him holding her, so she slung an arm around his and kept a firm hold on her drink with the other.

"Five more minutes, then we'll make an excuse."

"If we stay six more minutes, you'll be able to declare it a crime scene," she replied, as they separated to allow Adalind to precede Nick through the tightly clustered throngs at the front of the room. Nick kept a hand at her back, gentle pressure guiding and supportive, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder a few feet from Berman and the rest of the name partners. She was glad to have Louis and Berman reminiscing about old times together and not directing their attention on her. Except, she realized, they hadn't actually gotten to the official toast yet, and then the official speech she would have to make. And oh my god, why had she drank so much?

Nick must have noticed the look on her face. "What's the matter?"

"I'm supposed to make a speech," she whispered, dismayed. "Can't you text Rosalee and have her call you with an "emergency"?

"And not be obvious about it? We're standing in the front row," he whispered back. She stiffened when she realized Louis was watching her and Nick while Berman went on and on in his introduction speech. She was suddenly hyperaware that Nick was absently tracing lazy circles on her lower back with his fingers. From the outside, she could see how they might appear to everyone as a happy couple, and in consideration of Louis' comments she wasn't sure if she wanted to seem so cozy with Nick. She wasn't sure what he wanted with him. Or her. But she worried he had asked about their son and she needed to get Nick alone and tell him about her conversation.

Dammit. She realized now she should have worked something out with Rosalee prior, a call-me-in-ten-minutes-with-an-emergency type plan, although Rosalee would have probably thought she was trying to escape attending her party with Nick.

"It'll be fine," Nick said trying to soothe her. "Just keep it short and sweet." And she had barely a moment to glance at him before Berman was saying her name and everyone was clapping and somehow she was at the front of the room facing the crowd.

Short and Sweet. Right. She could do this. She felt like she was swaying. Was she swaying? Probably should have taken Nick's advice and said no to that last martini. She took a deep breath and started, thanking everybody for being there to support her, welcoming her back; Berman for offering her the position again, and she even managed to make a joke about it, and the laughter that echoed back bolstered her. She managed an appropriate if slightly rambling speech and stayed upright for the whole of it. She was congratulated and thanked by everyone as she tried to return to where she had seen Nick. She lost track of him again, and then found him over near the door, waiting patiently with a proud little smile on his face, and she felt more lightheaded from that than all the booze she had consumed.

"Perfect," he said, and she planted a quick peck on his lips and said "Let's go home."

%%%%%%

They spent the entirety of the car ride back to their loft with Nick on the phone with Hank and then Sean about a body that was apparently found downtown in an alley. Adalind tried to listen, but the cool glass against her face felt good after the buzzy warmth she was feeling from their evening out so she mostly tuned it out. The party had been a success she decided, despite some questionable moments.

She turned to Nick, reminded that she needed to tell him about Louis, but he was still on the phone so she leaned her head back against the glass.

She awoke when she felt him slide his arms under her legs and around her shoulders, and she couldn't help the smile of satisfaction that she had been right.

"You don't have to carry me," she said drowsily, "I can walk."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

She got fairly steadily to her feet and allowed Nick to slip his arm around her waist and guide her to the elevator. She wrapped her arms around him and looked at him from under hooded eyes, taking in his slightly amused expression and she tried to sober up a bit.

"Do you have to go in?" She asked, thinking of the homicide.

"No, Hank and Wu got it under control. I'll catch up with him in the morning."

She nodded, and Nick brushed his hand over her face, expression warm and serious. "You looked really beautiful tonight," he said and she felt her stomach flutter at his look.

He closed the elevator gate and hit the button to go up and when he turned back to her she nearly jerked him off his feet when she grabbed him and kissed him. "You looked freakin' hot," she said, and yes it was possible she was still a little drunk, but Nick only widened his grin a little as his eyes darkened, before resuming the kiss. It was nice, she thought, to just have a quiet moment and make out with him here in the elevator, and then all thoughts fled when he backed her against the wall and slid his hands down her body. The elevator reached their floor and they broke apart after a few minutes, Nick raising the gate and Adalind still with her hand fisted around his shirt collar, leading him backwards out of the elevator, before Nick closed the distance again and once again their mouths were fused together. They bumped against the table at the entry where Nick fumbled to deposit his keys. She heard them miss and slide off onto the floor. She stumbled a little stepping out of her shoes, but their lips never broke contact. She managed to get Nick's suit jacket halfway off his shoulders before they knocked into the dining table.

"Oof," she said breaking off the kiss and trying to catch her breath.

"Sorry," he said, shrugging the rest of the way out of his jacket and dropping it on the floor. Adalind looked at him in anticipation, the sensation that he might take her right there on the table making her almost weak in her legs. He licked his lips, a smile playing on them as he looked at her with affection in his eyes. "You taste like blueberry," he said, sliding his hands up her legs and under the hem of her dress.

She reached for his shirt again, crumpled with a few more buttons open near the collar and said, "You're sexy," taking in the dark hair on his chest that peeked through.

"You're still a little drunk," he replied, but his hands slipped higher as she pulled him closer. She managed to loop her arms over around his neck, and tipped her head back to allow him access to her neck and chest which he obliged by gliding his mouth over the areas left exposed by her dress as he carefully laid her back. She realized with a start that he had at some point found the zipper and had unzipped it as the skin on her back made contact with the table top.

The stubble on his face scratched and tickled where he trailed his mouth across her cheeks, mouth, neck and chest and she squirmed impatiently, wanting more of him.

"I should really put you to bed," he said, pulling away, taking her with him as she refused to let go, and she slid off the table and then out of his grasp in order to step out of the dress. He watched it pool around her ankles and then allowed his eyes to undertake a slow languorous journey up to her face. By the time they reached her own, she was smirking slightly and fairly clear headed as she slowly removed her bra and let it drop too, and Nick took a step closer.

"I should definitely take you to bed."