25 - Rain


The rain beat a steady rhythm on his back, the wet, cold water freezing him to the bone. He hadn't cast any water-repellent spells on his clothes, because that would have looked strange to anyone who noticed.

From what he had seen, Grimms and Wesen were very good at noticing things that were out of place.

For now, he wouldn't risk it.

Instead the wizard suffered the wetness and the biting wind and shivered where he was standing next to Monroe - the both of them keeping a lookout in case the Schakal tried to make a run for it through the back alley.

"So what do we do if the Schakal actually does come this way?" Harry asked his companion.

The Blutbad turned to look at him, "Eh, well, you and I should be able to take him, right? I mean, you are a Grimm…" His friend paused, looking at his reaction.

Harry raised an amused eyebrow, but didn't otherwise respond to the by-now familiar argument between them. It was almost a bit of a joke for him by now, or it would have been had his friend been privy to his secrets.

As it was, though, the wolf worried about his supposed self-denial like a dog with a bone and that sort of stole some of the fun.

Monroe frowned at him and continued his sentence more forcefully than was common for him. "You are a Grimm and I am a Blutbad, we should be fine. I think. Even if this guy has managed to evade the police for weeks and seems to be uncommonly fond of ripping out people's throats. And quite possibly eating babies. And wow, that argument got away from me somewhere."

The wizard shook his head fondly at his friend. "I'm sure we can manage," Harry finally said, "I was more concerned about how, exactly, we would explain our presence to the police. It's not just Nick out there, after all."

"Oh. That."

The two exchanged glances.

"Well. We're concerned citizens? When we noticed him running away from the police, we intervened. Simple. Easy. No poblemo."

"And what, exactly, are you two fine, concerned citizens doing outside in this dark alley on such a bloody miserable evening?" The Brit cheerfully shot back, as the unrelenting rain made his point for him.

Monroe really looked at him for a moment, and Harry wondered how awfully pitiful he must look when the wolf couldn't think of a reply for a long silent minute.

"Well, there's that."

Harry shivered again as a strong wind made his wet clothing feel as though small icicles were melting against his skin and he took a moment to consider his chances of unobtrusively casting a warming spell under the sharp eyes of a Blutbad.

"Some people like the rain, you know," Monroe finally said.

Sounds of 'stop, police!' reached them from a distance.

"Sure," Harry agreed, his hand brushing across his wand's hiding place, just in case. "Let's go with that."


Word Count: 500