As the two detectives got out of Lionel's sedan in the police lot, the Fuchsbau looked the Grimm over with a critical eye. Surprisingly, Prettyboy looked hardly the worse for wear after being drugged and kidnapped by the Hundjäger. Unfortunately, his shirt was still covered with tiny drops of blood spatter - the shirt was dark enough that it wouldn't be noticeable to a casual passerby, but Carter would hardly miss it in the brightly-lit squad room.

"Hey, wait," Lionel grumbled, going around to the trunk. Popping the trunk open, he pulled out a spare shirt and tossed it at Prettyboy. It'd be a bit large on him, but that was life. "Go clean up before heading back to the squad room. Shower's in the locker room, down the hall to the left. I'll go smooth things over with Carter."

Prettyboy grimaced, holding up the shirt. "Thanks." He let out a heavy sigh. "You know, after today, the rest of my time here should be a cakewalk."

"Hey, don't jinx it," Lionel warned him. "Oh, there's a snack machine in the hall. Pick me up a sandwich - on you, Portland."

The other detective, the Grimm, chuckled, throwing his eyes skyward. "You got it."

'Smoothing things over with Carter' would probably be easier said than done, though. Lionel blew out a deep breath as he entered the squad room. Sure enough, Carter was there waiting for him, and she didn't look happy.

"Fusco, where've you been?" she hissed, glancing around to make sure no one was near. "You've been gone for hours! I tried to get ahold of you, and all I got was voicemail."

"Why, something happen?" he asked innocently, sidestepping the question completely.

Carter shot him a look of frustration. "We got a tip that some European organized crime syndicate was making a move on American soil, that all the victims, the ones that were torn apart, all four have connections to the Moretti crime family, and that means-"

"Elias." Fusco let out a low whistle. Carl Elias, Gianni Moretti's illegitimate son- and New York's scariest up-and-coming crime boss- was in jail, but it didn't seem to slow him down much. Though Elias, for once, had no idea what he would be dealing with. Was it pure coincidence that the Hundjäger chose to kill one of Elias's men? After a feral Blutbad had already eaten three others? Lionel suddenly cursed under his breath.

This had to be the work of their friend in the glasses - he was laying a false trail, making a connection between the victims where none existed before, other than the red clothes, thus giving a plausible explanation for their deaths to the NYPD. 'Vicious organized crime incursion' made far more sense than 'mysterious animal attack'. But this route left open the possibility of retaliation on the part of Elias, once he figured out who was (supposedly) behind it all.

So Wonderboy ended it before it all began, by ruthlessly eliminating the supposed instigators of it all, the Verrat's Hundjäger. Elias would know who was really responsible for the extermination of the "Euro-gangsters", and was smart enough not to respond, but all the Verrat would know was that their hounds were killed while going after a Grimm. Neat and tidy. All it lacked was a little bow to top it off.

"What?" she demanded, her brows coming together at Lionel's reaction to her news.

"Wonderboy. He took care of the problem earlier. While I was out following our Portland friend," Lionel replied circumspectly. "Anyway, let's just say that you shouldn't be surprised to get a call-out to a scene with a half-dozen or so dead Euro-gangsters."

There was something tragic in the way she didn't even blink about this sort of thing anymore, as she glanced around the room. Being around Mr. Happy was changing her, and not entirely in better ways. "Yeah, and where is Detective Burkhardt, anyway?"

"Locker room. Some mook got him with a pot hole fulla muddy water. I 'ran into' him on the way in, gave him a clean shirt," the Fuchsbau lied easily. He was good at lying. One of the reasons that Wonderboy had let him live when they first met...

"We ever figure out why our mutual friends wanted us to keep an eye on him?"

Lionel shrugged noncommittally. "Apparently, he's dealt with some of these European gangsters in Portland, and they don't like him very much. Mr. Glasses just wanted to make sure he was kept out of trouble. Anyway, we had no problems tonight."

"Aside from the 'mook' with the pothole and the muddy water?" Carter said dryly.

"Hey, complain to the city council. It's not my fault the streets need repaving."

When Prettyboy sauntered into the squad room several minutes later, Lionel was very annoyed that he somehow managed to look good in a borrowed shirt and damp hair.

At least he'd managed to wash off the smell of Hundjäger. Mostly.

Lionel sighed long-sufferingly. This whole "sharing NYPD tactics with our brothers in law enforcement" was way more trouble than it was worth.

And his sandwich was stale.

~o0o~

Several thousand miles away in Portland, Oregon, Captain Sean Renard of the Portland Police Bureau steepled his fingers. The pressure from his family to produce the Key from Nick was growing more intense everyday. Had he done the right thing, sending him off to New York? Worse, Renard couldn't put thoughts of Juliette out of his mind- her hair, her eyes, how she smiled, how she laughed- it was all he could think about. Nick's girlfriend, whom Renard had saved from a vengeful Hexenbiest. With a kiss.

Thinking about that kiss was a mistake, because suddenly he envisioned himself holding Juliette in his arms, running his lips down her ne-

Renard's hand clenched into fists, the nails digging into his palms.

He had to do something.

~o0o~

Name: Renard, Sean

SSN: XXX-XX-6099

DOB: 10/21/73

POB: Vienna, Austria

Occupation: Portland Police Bureau ACTIVE

Violence Probability Index: High

Threat Category: Non-relevant

Threat Level: High

IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED

A/N: And it's a wrap! Thank you all for reading, and special thanks to those who have left a review! It's been a lot of fun writing this story, and I definitely look forward to when Grimm and Person of Interest return to our screens.

For the record, a Hexenbiest is a sort of witch-hag. They like to brew nasty potions and are obsessed with keeping themselves pretty. Juliette fell victim to one such being, and was only saved by a prince's kiss, unbeknownst to her boyfriend. Unfortunately, an unintended side-effect of the life-saving kiss was a growing mutual obsession between Juliette and Renard, which ultimately proved disastrous for both parties.

EDIT: I made a few additions to help bring the story to a close.