"These keys lead to nothing but death. We both know that. Many powerful and dangerous people will do anything to get their hands on these. It's not worth it!" her voice cracked with emphatic declaration. "This is a fantasy Nick, that someone had 800 years ago."

She really didn't want him to go to Germany, and for a fleeting moment, he actually considered staying put. Why after all these years did the keys suddenly fall into his lap?

"Adalind, I…this might be a waste of my time, but I have to go; my aunt gave me one of these keys. She believed in it. It almost took her life and I owe it to her…you…." He grunted and left the rest unsaid.

"I probably owe it to her too," she sighed with resignation and turned away from him.

Nick cursed himself for being unable to say exactly what he meant without inflicting her pain. He wanted to make her understand but he remained plastered to the concrete floor, ashamed he was unable to articulate himself better. He didn't mean to bring up his aunt, especially as some card to play to get what he wanted. In the short time since Kelly's birth, they'd stopped playing games with one another. Instead of driving each other crazy due to cabin fever, they'd grown close…closer than close and the truth was that Nick didn't actually want to go Germany. Unfortunately, his life had become more about doing what was necessary and less about him doing or getting what he wanted.

"When are you leaving?" She faced him, her lower lip trembling at the last uttered word.

"…Tomorrow. Monroe's coming with and Rosalee will be here with you and Kelly while I'm gone. Look, I know you're worried…"

"Yeah, I am," her nervous fidgeting increased a fraction more. This was more than worry, something else was happening here, he thought. It sometimes unnerved him how he could read her without much effort and at other times, he rather enjoyed it but this wasn't one of those times considering his own anxiety about what he might find in Germany, if anything at all.

"…But you're probably right. It's probably nothing…. But what if I'm wrong and they buried is something evil, something they never wanted found, and for good reason?" She twitched and heaved uncomfortably and woged suddenly. He didn't move, or attempt to, his eyes transfixed on the woman before him. Gone was the soft, sun-kissed, but mournful expression, replaced by deathlike façade but no less emotional.

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity and for whatever reason, Adalind didn't woge back.

"I'm sorry," her drooped shoulders and downcast face seemed to say, her exposed state otherwise rendering her speechless.

"Well, then they wouldn't have made a map. They would have just destroyed it." He said; a miserable attempt for him to lighten the mood, anything to assuage Adalind.

"What if it couldn't be destroyed?" The Hexenbiest countered.

"Then they would have just buried it." He was being a smartass, he knew it, but he didn't know what else to say.

"I know I can't keep you from going. It's something you have to do. But I also know there's a chance that you won't come back." She stepped towards him.

"Adalind…" he shortened the remaining distance, wanting to take her in his arms but he didn't. They had never before crossed that line. One kiss (or two) is all that went down between them, outside of Kelly. Curse it! Why was everything so complicated between them?

"Nick…" she inhaled.

"Adalind…"He exhaled. He felt like an idiot. Surely, he had more words in his vocabulary than just her name. He rather liked saying her name but that was beside the point.

"Nick," she repeated once more but with careful emphasis, as if measuring how to proceed. "I…"

His ears pricked up. Her heart was racing.

Adalind raised her hand and rested it over his chest, his heart beating furiously against the palm of her withered hand.

"I can't let you go without you knowing how I, a Hexenbiest, feel about you, a Grimm. It's crazy, maybe even suicidal; after all, we have a history but this may very well be the last time we're together…like this and you have to know. I don't care if this is a mistake of epic proportions but I love you Nicholas Burkhardt. I don't know when or how, only that it's real and I can't shut it off any longer." She said breathlessly, looking him dead in the eyes so he couldn't mistake her candour and woged back. Nick, without wasting another second, pounced on her and desperately possessing her lower lip in his, devouring her. It had been an eternity since they last shared a kiss. She tasted divine and he was hungry.

She sighed sweetly against his lips, "Mm…Nick…"

Nick?

"Hmm-mm, less talking and more—"

"Nick, hey sleeping beauty we have to get going, Wu's got us an early Christmas gift!"

Hank?

Adalind's lips vanished into the ether, replaced by the stale taste of the Italian from the night before; empty packaging sprawled carelessly across his desk. He grimaced. He was dreaming of her again and his partner was the last face he wanted to see first thing in the morning.

"Hey," he greeted Hank with a long stretch of his arms over his head, around and back again.

"I was going to say rough night but then again, it looks like someone's happy to see me."

"What?" Nick looked confused.

"We got ourselves a witness, finally but maybe you should have a cold shower and freshen up first," Hank made a quick head gesture. "I know I'm good looking but—"

Realising what Hank hinted at, "Hilarious," said Nick, not appreciating the ribbing at all. "What's this about a witness?"

"Yeah, a homeless guy from Morrison Bridge."

"Morrison? But our vic was found On Raleigh Street, what could he have possibly seen?"

"Maybe we should ask him and find out."

"Fine, I got your point. Just give me 'twenty'." He tsked and pushed back his chair much to his irritation, not sure whether with himself or with Hank.

Fifteen minutes later, he joined his partner and the supposed witness in the interrogation room.

It was a short interview. Their one and only witness, Wally Simmons, was an opioid addict and allegedly, on the night in question, he'd exhausted his stash and turned liberally to alcohol. Wally had been certain he'd seen the victim at least one whole day before the night of her death. She came out of a nightclub near Field Park with another unidentified woman, or perhaps it was a man Wally wasn't certain. "You can't tell for sure these days," he burped pungent breath into the confined space of the interrogation room. It was a cold night and he cared more about other things, he insisted.

Nick was unimpressed, "You're wasting our time Wally," he interjected in the middle of Wally's tale of getting drunk and high.

"I'm telling you what I know…so how about that reward?"

"What reward?" Nick's mood darkened further.

"I thought…don't you guys give out rewards for people coming forward with information?"

"Not today," said Nick curtly before dismissing the man from his sight, much to Hank's surprise, and not the good kind.

*/*/*

Later, "So what was that?" asked his partner from across his desk.

"A lead…maybe nothing."

"We'll table that for a moment. What I'm talking about is before that."

Nick knew exactly what Hank was asking and he was in no mood to share. "It's this case, man. Today was supposed to be a win but I'm not so sure." He said in an attempt to keep Hank from prying any further.

"Look, I didn't want to say anything before. It's not really my place, or maybe it is. I am your partner but I am also your friend and this friend is telling you, you've been off your game lately. I know Adalind moving out and taking Kelly away was gonna be rough but we knew that it was going to happen sooner rather than later. Moreover, you've turned this sorry place into your own personal bed and breakfast. Have some dignity, is the loft not working out for you anymore?"

Nick darkened even more.

"What's really going on with Nick, and don't you dare say it's this case because I know it's not!"

Nick looked at Hank, considering whether to answer his friend. He trusted the man with his life every single day. Between him and Monroe, Nick couldn't ask for better friends, both loyal to a fault but while he could share everything with Monroe, Hank was a different matter altogether. He was a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen, so it wasn't about hiding his Grimm from his cop partner but rather keeping him in the dark about one particular wesen, Adalind.

"Is this about Kelly? Is the little guy alright?"

"No-no, Kelly is fine. In fact he's great."

"Then what the heck is wrong with you? It's not the case. It's not Kelly, then who is it and please don't say Adalind."

Nick pressed his lips into a grim line.

"Uh-man! It is Adalind."

"I didn't say anything." He countered.

"You didn't have to; your twitchy brow did all the talking for you."

"It's not what you think."

"Oh-please I can count on two fingers the number of times I didn't wake up with one of my exes on my mind soon after a broke up."

"Well we didn't actually break up because we were never together to begin with."

"Mm-hmm." Hank didn't buy it. "Adalind's finally out of your hair; I thought you'd be celebrating your freedom. I know I would!"

Nick squirmed. He didn't want to keep this conversation going in the direction it was heading. Hank never forgot all that Adalind did despite all his claims to forgiving her for Kelly's sake. Nick understood how difficult it was for Hank being around Adalind; hence, he'd restricted their interactions to a bare minimum, their one dinner together at the loft the only exception. Nick only sharing with Monroe about his one night with Adalind was because he knew Hank wouldn't understand and they would never have this conversation; so much for that plan….

"Oh-no, you slept with her didn't you?" Hank sneered.

"It-it only happened once," he lowered his voice by an octave. He didn't want to broadcast his personal life to the whole precinct, especially with the Captain only a few feet away in his office, the absolute worst-case scenario.

"Oh my word…it's actually worse than I thought. It's why you just about chopped off our only witness on this mess of a case. She got in too deep and now you're a mess. Not even with Juliette were you like this."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nick bristled.

This is why he didn't tell Hank everything.

"I mean you're losing it over that woman," Hank just about spat.

"That woman is the mother of my child." He growled and took a breath, not want to get upset.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Come again?" His anger, quickly rising back to the surface.

"Look, I'm sorry that came out wrong. It's just—"

"I'm going to stop you right there. We're partners and we're friends. We've been through a lot together over the year, all of us. This job…we're trained to see things in black and white and that's all right but the world I inhabit, is infinitely far from." He counted his words carefully; it would not help to stoke the fire that could easily raise their friendship to the ground. Not too long ago, he was on the other side of this conversation but things change.

"Man, I'm sorry. I guess I just don't understand how you…." Hank said, still unimpressed with what he heard.

"Like I said, I only happened once and won't be happen again."

"Who are you trying to convince?" He asked, the venom now gone from his tone. "Is that what you want?"

That was a loaded question; one Nick lacked the courage to confront.

"It is what it is."

It wasn't an answer but it would have to suffice for now. He didn't want to think too hard on Hank's words, that Adalind was in too deep in his system. It would explain his dreams for one thing. If he's not dreaming about her singing to Kelly, it's about everything else between and it scared him senseless. He was reliving their time together but with her in woge, as if he didn't already know her abilities had returned. He didn't want to think what any of it meant. Hank had his issues and it was easy for him to blow things out of proportion but he was also right, not even with Juliette did Nick's life deteriorate to this extent and showing no signs of abating. He hasn't been at peace or rested at ease since Adalind left the loft. He looked like the walking dead. Felt like it too and that possibly interfered with his work, something he couldn't afford now.

"Hey guys," It was Wu. "I know Wally may not be exactly what we hoped for but here are some composite sketches of our potential vic, and maybe killer or maybe another witness, who knows at this stage." He handed his device with the images to Hank, who then passed it on to Nick.

"And we still think this guy is legit? He camps under Morrison, ends up east of the river where he supposedly saw our vic with a woman, or maybe a man at around 1AM, all while drunk out of his mind. Don't forget the crime scene is in a third location, north of the Precinct."

"It's thin, but it's more than what we had this time yesterday."

"Does Wally have an alibi, maybe he's our 'perp', and he can't remember?"

"He doesn't strike me as someone that would decapitate a woman using a sharp, surgical like blade with one strike. He could barely stand up straight."

"Under the influence of a powerful narcotic, he could. Our vic's hands are missing, maybe she put up a fight, scrapping off a good chunk of DNA, and the killer sawed off her hands to cover his tracks."

"If that was the case, we should have seen some on Wally's face, neck and there was nothing.

"Yeah and his alibi checked out. It turns out he did get his fix that night; several of his buddies corroborated his whereabouts on the night of the killing. Sorry fellas." He said and left the two detectives to mull over the latest developments.

"Let's run these against the missing person's database and see if anything pops."

"One can only hope," Nick pulled up his chair and clicked his computer back to life.

*/*/*

Note:

There's going to be parts of the story that are different or didn't happen at all going forward (major plots in S5 and S6). I hope I haven't bitten more than I chew, I want to keep this story contained All comments appreciated.