O Fortuna
Chapter 7

Sleeping in the bed she made.

Season 5 Episode 3
Season 5 Episode 4

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Adalind squinted at the calendar as she sipped Monroe's exquisite coffee.

Today is the day. Moving day.

She stuffed the back of Nick's Land Cruiser to overflowing with baby stuff, her duffel, and their bathroom stuff. Next was Kelly, and a round of hugs and thanks to their hosts, and off they went, winding their journey out of the drooping spruce and fir trees marking Monroe's Portland residential neighborhood, to Nick's old house.

Five hours later, they were rummaging through the final odds and ends as the movers hauled the last things out of Nick's house. Time had dulled the sharp edges, and Nick was able to walk through the house without locking up, but both of them were glad it was gone. Too many people knew. It was too easy to find... And the part about murdering all the neighbors.

There was the other aspect. Sure, for a Hexenbiest, she was a social butterfly, garrulous, even. Especially now that her horizons were flung open and she was cast headlong into the noisy Wesen world chock full of sociable critters like Eisbeibers and Fuchsbau... I mean, sure, she had been part of the Wesen world her entire life. She was a criminal lawyer, and then a Civil lawyer, all for Wesen clients... But she was a Hexenbiest, and everybody gives them a wide berth.

She let a snicker float out. Nobody would dare show up at Catherine Schade's house, just to chat. You don't make unannounced social calls on Hexenbiests. Mostly, you don't call on Hexenbiests at all, unless you have to. She could literally count on one hand the number of visitors she had in her apartment the entire five years she lived there... Four. Renard, her mother, Hank, and the blonde fellow Renard brought in to make Hank jealous.

That was it. She even remembered the number of times they came over - Renard twice, her mother twice, Hank once, and the other guy once. A grand total of six visits in five years. She blew straight past that mark the second day at Monroe's place when a gaggle of Eisbeiber women showed up to check on her and see Nick's son.

But, compared to "Normal" people, she was solidly introverted. The constant crush of people everywhere had worn on her and she often found herself disappearing into hidey holes wherever she could eke them out. Ironically, Monroe did the same. He loved having friends there, but she saw it in his eyes. He was ready for solitude.

In short, she was thankful for the promise of some alone time.

She was fairly concerned about Nick having another episode in the old house, but instead, he opened up, flashing his charming smile and those glittering blue eyes. He made small talk about her being the first Woge he had ever seen. She returned the smile with the revelation that he was the first Grimm she had ever seen. She hadn't even believed they were real before seeing her Hexen-reflection floating in the jet black eyes of doom.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Nick's silver land yacht lumbered out of the neighborhood and over the bridge to the other side of town. He was smiley and chatty for their entire voyage. They turned into a chain link gate, crossed the asphalt expanse of an abandoned industrial park surrounded by a welcoming security fence capped with three rows of lightly rusted barbed wire. He wound around a building, clicked a garage door opener, and a twenty foot tall metal door rolled up. There yawned the gaping maw of the shipping dock on the back of an old paint factory.

Within the rusty, corrugated steel expanse turned garage, Adalind was greeted by a second car, half a dozen steel I-beam support columns, an old workbench, and an oily, green milling machine. Her first thought as she hauled the baby seat out of Nick's Land Cruiser, "So kid friendly."

And it only got better when the service elevator's worn wood slats rattled open, revealing a polished concrete floor bathed in the orangey glow of warehouse lamps.

The place was spartan, like an abandoned police precinct dotted with painted concrete columns and a pile of stainless steel restaurant furniture dumped right, smack in the middle. No wonder Nick picked this place.

It smelled like a mixture of saw dust and machine oil, like a factory. There was no residue of people here. No remnants of the hopes, dreams, and failures of somebody else's life. The only thing missing from the bullpen of Nick's empty police department was the stink of whores, burnt coffee, and industrial disinfectant.

Well, at least I can work on the disinfectant part.

Like Nick and herself, everything here was destined for a fresh start. It was a blank slate, with no notion of whatever it ought to be. And like the two of them, if it failed, there would be no ashes for the world to dance over. This was their chance to make whatever they could out of their empty canvas, either to create something new and exciting, or tear it to pieces and burn it down. And when they burned, the next owners would sweep their failure away with nary a second glance.

There was no couch or tv, no kitchen table, only a few stainless steel counters from a commercial kitchen and a deep sink. 1962 is calling. It wants it's appliances back. The fridge and stove were old Kelvinator units. Heavy chrome-trimmed white, cast iron tanks. The microwave was a faux-wood trimmed Amana Radar Range from the early 1970's. That one alone was two hundred pounds of American steel, chrome plating, and bakelite that survived the worst The Cold War threw at it and kept on ticking.

Nick gave her the nickel tour and was promptly called out on Detective duty. His "bedroom," if you could call it that, consisted of a rickety, metal framed twin bed at the end of the kitchen. It was unceremoniously stuffed between a dented, black file cabinet and a thrift store end table. Beside it rested the black lump of a particle board dresser that must have come straight off the curb, complete with two cracked drawers missing their pulls.

Unlike the rest of the space, her bedroom was well appointed, with wood floors, a solid oak bed, matching bedside tables, full length mirror, dresser, vanity, wide closet, crib, and her padded baby rocker.

The single bathroom came straight out of a high school locker room. Worn, yellow subway tiles, a hanging fluorescent lamp, a white, square, wall mounted sink, a stainless steel rimmed mirror, a white toilet, and a white bath tub/shower. We're going to need a couple shelves and a place to hold baby stuff.

The washer and dryer lived back downstairs in the garage, beside a white utility sink and the air conditioner. At least there's an elevator to the laundry.

First order of business was food, toilet paper, and a cook book. She packed Kelly into Juliette's old Subaru and off they went to buy groceries with Nick's card.

While she was out, a ghost from her past turned up and put a bug in her ear about work. Hit up Berman when she was ready to return. Now, she was torn. The huge firm would certainly offer flexibility, a good salary, seniority, and benefits, but, there would be the expectation that she return to her Hexenbiest practice. She truly wanted a clean separation from her old life, and her time at Rosalee's proved there was plenty of legal work without shenanigans.

But...

The loft was empty and Nick's detective salary wasn't going to cover converting a paint factory into a home. Never mind if he hit the road when Ms. Biest returned.

Better to plan for these things rather than being taken by surprise when they blow up in your face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Her return to the fortress brought the most beautiful peace and quiet she had ever experienced.

She prepped a quick dinner of Manwich and fries, with some sweet white Zin for herself and local IPA beer for Nick. In the mean time, she wandered into her bedroom for another look.

The King size mattress was the very top of the line conventional spring type with exactly the right combination of stiffness and bounce. This type accentuated quality love making, unlike one of those memory foam energy soakers which absorb all of your best intentions and leave you wallowing in a sweaty pool.

The mattress was supported by a solid oak, extra thick frame with heavily bolted head and foot boards and half a dozen extra support feet underneath. Under the bed was a neutral pattern rug with rubberized backing, whose sole purpose in life was to keep the bed from clattering and sliding all over the floor. All of it was capped by double mattress pads, soft, heavily quilted and triple stitched to avoid popping loose at inopportune moments. Topping that were fresh cotton sheets, half a dozen pillows, a blanket, and a buff colored quilted comforter.

In short, this bed was bought by a man who knew beds. A man who had broken more than his fair share of them. There was no mistaking that it was set up to withstand the best you could give it.

She chuckled as she ran her hands over the massive timbers. Perhaps they ought to plant an olive in the middle of the bedroom. If this bed failed, Odysseus and Penelope's solution was their only hope...

That also meant she needed to get him into the right bed... The one with herself in it.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Nick returned a little before dark and scooped Kelly out of her arms so she could cook. The long day of moving plus shopping and police work left them hungry for the guilty pleasure of saucy ground beef on a fresh bakery bun, topped with dill pickle and red onion slices with a healthy side of fresh potato fries. They ate standing at one of the steel counters. It only took Nick a few minutes. "I think we need a table and some chairs."

Half an hour later, two glasses of wine and a couple cans of beer kicked in and they got giggly with Nick telling jokes and finally breaking out his old guitar while sitting on the floor. They washed the dishes before singing silly songs and dancing with Kelly until finally turning in for the night.

Ten minutes of silence in the huge king size bed got her thinking. Why was he still out there, in that rickety thing they must have found rusting in the back of the warehouse and threw in free with the purchase of The Real Bed. In short, he was sleeping on the torture device you give young kids who are too small to need any sort of quality sleeping accommodation... And she heard it in every sad creak and groan.

Reality struck her. He expected to be gone. Soon.

She paused and let the thought sink in...

Why would he be ready to bail so quickly?

Her stomach knotted.

Herself.

He expected her to kick him out, because that's what Catherine Schade would have done...

She gritted her teeth as her mind wandered to her young self, showing off a drawing of a blonde haired woman holding hands with a man and some children. They were smiling, standing together in green grass with sprawling trees and a bright yellow sun behind them. Her mother's disgust smashed her joy. "What, on earth is... That? We didn't fight the good fight for liberation to be chained to a man and his herd of urchins."

I am not Catherine Schade! She never spent three months chained to a stone floor, and for all her preaching self preservation, she's the one who ended up dead when she could have put two Grimms into her debt..

She already knew that with two children by two men, her value towards another relationship was basically zero. No decent family man would want to be baby daddy number three, especially not any self respecting Zauberbiest. Never mind the fact that Hexen-Zauber marriages were always arranged, and that ship lay dashed on the rocks of her mother's failed machinations

But... The local Wesen were still rolling out the red carpet for the mother of Nick's child. Especially so after she calmed his storm in front of Rosalee. He did make it six years in his last relationship. He proved his mettle against the odds, and everything I threw at him. He was the sort a girl would settle down with.

And...

Have...

A...

Family...

Gnawing itched the back of her throat. Rosalee, Monroe, and the Wesen are waiting on me to make a family with Nick. She thought of Henrietta's reaction to her pregnancy. It wasn't horror, worry, or disbelief, but rather amusement that Adalind was pregnant by a Grimm... And something else... Jealousy? Henrietta knew the influence of a Grimm.

Her worry turned to a smile as the events of the night replayed. If this isn't a family, I don't know what is.

Her shot at a new life was rolling around in that squeaking terror. She waited, eyes wide open, staring at the concrete ribbed ceiling while the cacophony of creaks and groans echoed out of the kitchen.

The ball laid in her court. It was time to make her move, to kick start things, and claim her rightful spot... And lets be honest, she really did like the idea of her own, personal Grimm. If I'm going to sleep in the bed I made, well, there were a lot worse beds.

She ambled out and found him wide awake, battling to silence the creaking monster. Like a giddy little girl, she spun a tale of not being able to sleep in the new place, then waited what seemed like an eternity.

It took him a whopping three milliseconds to scoop up his stuff and settle in beside her. She halfway expected him to slide his hand inside her shirt so she could slide hers down his pants, but like a couple teenagers on a church trip, they just laid there, thinking maybe something was supposed to happen next, but unsure of what that something was.

A few long minutes later, Nick's breathing slowed and then stopped. His body cooled beside her, and she settled into the bosom of heaven itself. There was no snoring, no heavy breathing, and no heat radiating off his body. She snuggled into his chest and fell asleep in the lap of delicious, cold silence.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Nick's alarm sounded before the dawn, and Adalind woke to his hand inside her shirt and her hips crushed into his. His body was screaming "Come on over here, baby." as it warmed and his breathing restarted, but he rolled away and disappeared into the bathroom without a word.

She made her way to the kitchen, fixed a pot of coffee and a couple bagels. Soon, Nick ambled out in his blue jeans, green Henley shirt, and bomber jacket. She passed him a cup of Joe. "So, how did you sleep "

He turned away, cheeks burning red and nearly spitting coffee out his nose. "Fine, I guess."

Her eyes twinkled. "That bed you got me is really nice. It's very comfortable."

Nick stammered and gulped a mouthful of coffee, but eventually relaxed at her soft smile. "You're welcome. I wanted to make sure you and Kelly slept well."

"Well, it's very nice. Kelly and I felt safe with you with us last night."

Nick's smile crept out and his eyes glittered.

"Any requests for dinner?"

"What do we have?"

"Chicken, rice, and fresh vegetables."

"Count me in."

-/-/-/-

That day, Adalind cleaned top to bottom, rearranged the place a bit, and took stock. At a minimum, they were going to need a table and chairs, and then some living room furniture. Now, she wondered about her storage unit. There was a pile of stuff in there that hadn't been seen in a year. Most of it was trash, but there might be a few things that could tide them over.

She made a voyage back to Monroe's place and collected the rest of their stuff. She teased Rosalee. "Are you sure this is all ours? We came here with the clothes on our back, and it's not going to fit into two car loads."

Rosalee batted her eyes mischeviously. "There might be a clock in there... How are things going with Nick so far?"

"So far so good. We're taking things slow. I think he's worried I'm going to run him off."

Rosalee's brow furrowed as she waited.

"But, honestly, I like having him around, and he's pretty laid back. He's easier to get along with than I expected."

"Yeah, he's not at all what I expected out of a Grimm."

Adalind nodded.

"So, what's the new place like?"

"Pretty barren. it's some sort of old factory converted into a house."

Rosalee quirked her eyebrow.

"Yeah, I know. And we didn't take any of his old furniture, so it's mostly empty. You want to come check it out?"

Rosalee nodded. "Not today, though, I've got to get back to the spice shop."

"We truly do appreciate everything you and Monroe have done for us."

-/-/-/-/-/-

Nick got home early, so they made the voyage to her storage unit. The smell hit her as the white roll up door clattered it's way to the top. It was a scent she wanted no part of, the memories of her mother's spitefulness. It was at that moment she made the decision to take only the minimum and jettison the rest. Like Nick in his old house, she felt nothing but sadness and frustration as she looked over dozens of mirrors, boxes of kitchen and living room things, and piles of old clothes laying on the concrete floor.

It was almost like she left it... It had apparently been rummaged when they were trying to sort out the Grimm rememdy, but otherwise, it was the same. They decided to use the living room set and kitchen table. Then, she found her mother's collection of Hexenbiest books. "I think I should just get rid of these."

Nick laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Your daughter will need them."

With that, her eyes welled up as the emotions flooded in. "She hates me."

"Your daughter doesn't hate you."

Her eyes twitched as the she sobbed. "She wanted your mother. She knows I'm horrible."

Nick groaned. "She was not exactly a good mother. She abandoned me when I was twelve."

Adalind's voice cracked as she whispered, "But I sold my own daughter. That's why I don't have her."

She folded into Nick's shoulder, then pushed away and headed towards the door. "You should take Kelly... I shouldn't have any children."

He waited, and she stood, head pressed against the unit's roll up door. Her hand pushed the bent steel door jamb as she slumped to her knees, weeping. He cupped her hand. "That's not who you are. You never gave Diana away. We took her."

"I sold her to the Gypsy Queen."

"But you were always trying to get her back. That's why you went to The Royals, and why you took my powers."

Kelly's crying shocked her back to reality. He was hungry and needed changing, right there in the storage unit. They stuffed the kitchen table and chairs into Nick's huge SUV and headed back to The Loft.

Kelly was getting progressively crankier as they tried to cook dinner. They were playing Pass the Baby while fumbling with a box of Minute Rice to go with sauteed chicken breast and vegetables. Nothing was working to soothe Kelly who kept drawing up his legs, scrunching his face, and crying, so they called Rosalee, who recommended gas drops. In the mean while, the lights from the phone caught Kelly's attention and he stopped crying for long enough for her to retrieve the bottle and administer a healthy dose. You take a win where you find it. They got Kelly down and enjoyed dinner at an actual table.

Over dinner, she revealed her thoughts on going back to work. Nick's face said he didn't really want her to. Deep down, he understood, and seemed honestly a bit relieved at the prospect of not having to carry the entire family burden on his own.

After dinner, he took a trek through the secret wall door, into the tunnels while she worked on Gassy Baby Grimm. The gas drops worked their magic, but that didn't prevent him from spitting up all over her. She got him cleaned up and hit Nick on the way to the shower. He was covered with grime from that which lies below, but gave her the bathroom first.

She showered and washed the spit up out of her hair, then realized she had no clothes. Nick volunteered to find some, but came up empty, so he brought her one of his shirts. Going without a bra while breastfeeding is dancing with the devil, but she didn't really have any choice. Nick's eyes nearly popped out of his head and his gaze followed her all the way to the bedroom before he collected himself and got into the shower.

That evening, Nick cranked up his computer and rummaged through old files until he came up with a few pictures of Diana. Adalind sat in rapt attention, staring, with her fingers touching the screen, scrolling back and forth through the half dozen images. Tears welled up at the only pictures she had ever seen of her daughter. "She looks so... Grown up. She was barely nine months and she looks like a three year old. Your mother really loved her, didn't she."

Nick's brow furrowed and his breath trickled out. "I think she liked Diana better than me."

She was enthralled, and let it pass. It had only been four short months since The Royals recovered Diana, and she still held out hope.

That night, she made sure Nick was in the bed beside her again. They talked a bit more about his mother and her daughter before deciding to clear out her storage unit the coming weekend, and with that, they drifted off to sleep.

-/-/-/-