Chapter 8:

A few days later Nick was at Monroe's house being amused by the blutbad's antics. His friend was going from one place to another, checking something, pull on his hair, move to another place, and repeat the same process. It had been going on for twenty minutes.

Not being able to watch anymore, he said, "Monroe, calm down. It's just a date. You're acting like it's the prom or something."

Monroe sighed, "Dude, this is the first date I've been on for awhile. To make things more complicated it's with a human. What if I freak her out, or something?"

Nick chuckled, "I think not much freaks Rosaleen out. Just relax. Where are you taking her?"

Monroe answered, "An Italian place called Pastini Pastaria. The one that's downtown. It's not completely vegetarian, but it has a nice atmosphere. What do you think, too bland?"

Monroe was wearing a pale blue dress shirt paired with charcoal slacks and black dress shoes. Nick thought for a moment and then answered, "You know, I think this is the first time I've seen you wearing something other than plaid."

Monroe narrowed his eyes and then puts on a dark grey jacket, "Funny. I wear other stuff besides plaid. Seriously, how's the outfit? If it's no good, I have ten minutes to change."

Nick answered laughing, "You look fine. Stop worrying. She liked you enough to ask you out. You'll be fine. Just go and have some fun."

Monroe nodded and grabbed his keys, "How's the case going? Any leads yet?"

Nick rolled his eyes, "Monroe! We are not going to talk about the case before your date. Just forget it for now, and try and have fun."

Monroe sighed and tugged on his hair, "Sorry, Man. It's just the thought of a Grimm killing humans. Not that long ago I had an exact idea how the world worked. Then you came, and tackled me into this new reality, literally."

Nick grinned, "Yeah, probably the luckiest thing to happen to me since everything started. Would have been lost without you, Bud. Now, go have fun, and forget about this Grimm stuff."

Frowning, Monroe looked at the menu, trying to figure out what to eat. He quickly glanced over at Rosaleen, and closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn't believe his luck. Not only was he nervous about being on a date with a human, but now he had to worry about losing it because what his date was wearing. Rosaleen had decided to wear a red dress. Not just any kind of red, but show stopping, fire engine red. His blutbad instincts were screaming to take over. Most confusing part about it was that he didn't know what they want him to do with her.

Rosaleen smiled and gave the menu to the waiter, "I think I'll have the Farfalle Primavera. Monroe?"

Closing his eyes for a moment, and then straightened a little, "Um yeah. I'll have the Torellini Gorgonzola, and could you bring us a bottle of white wine? Thank you."

When the waiter left with both their menus and their orders, Monroe started thumping on the table with his fingers nervously at a loss with what to say. He looked around the restaurant as if searching for something.

She smirked, "Monroe, relax. I'm not going to bite."

Monroe rolled his eyes, and straightened up in his seat. He went back to drumming his fingers on the table. Instead of looking around, he now kept his head down, staring at the table.

Sighing, Rosaleen leaned back in her chair, "I find it curious that Detective Burkhart wanted to know which version of 'Red Riding Hood' was my favorite." She shrugs, "Then again, the case did have to deal with a fairytale. So, maybe not so odd, now that I think of it."

Monroe frowned, still staring at the table, "I guess. Never really liked that story myself."

Tilting her head, she studied him, "Really? What was your favorite fairytale then?"

He shrugged, looking up "Don't know. Never really gave it much thought. Maybe 'Godfather Death', I guess."

Raising her eyebrows she said, "That's a first. Most people have never heard of that story, much less liked it. I think people usually cringe when death is personally involved in something."

Rubbing his neck, he said, "I have no problem with death. The story actually gives me comfort in an odd sort of way."

Leaning forward, she asked, "How so?"

Shrugging again, he answered, "Death is the ultimate equalizer. He can't be bought or bribed. Can't be persuaded with nepotism. No matter who you are, you will always have an appointment with him. Don't you find that comforting?"

Rosaleen nods, "There is a certain comfort in that. Some would think that you embrace death; welcome it almost. Do you?"

Shaking his head, he said, "No. I just have a really healthy respect for it. Doesn't mean I go out looking for it. If anything, I try to avoid it. I'm not the hero type."

Rosaleen laughed, "Oh, Monroe. In almost every story I have ever read, the hero always says that."

Giving a small smile, he said, "Good thing this isn't a story then."

When the waiter left, after setting their dinner down, Rosaleen said, "I think you don't give yourself much credit. Detective Burkhart does what he does because it's his job. You get involved because you feel you need to get involved. You didn't have to go with us to Roddy's to tell him about Sarah, but you did without hesitating. I bet you do even more. Am I wrong?"

He frowned, "Not really. I just fix watches. That's it. Nothing special. Pretty boring actually, now that I think about it."

She smiled, "As long as you enjoy it, what does it matter? I don't think I could do what I do well without loving it. Most would consider what I do as boring. Studying fairytales? Not many get excited about that. Students usually have mistaken my classes as "fluff" classes. They figure it out really quick."

Smiling, he asked, "I bet that throws them for a loop. Besides reading and figuring out what the Grimm brothers had in mind when they recorded their tales, what else do you do? I mean, do you have any hobbies?"

She answered, "I play the violin. My mother wanted me to go professional, but I couldn't. I knew the moment I did, I would lose the love of playing."

He smiled wider, "Really? Maybe we can play together sometime. I'm not the best, but I like to think I know my way around a cello."

Rosaleen smiled, "I would love that, Monroe. I'm sure you play beautifully."

The rest of the dinner continued along the same lines. They slowly got to know each other. Pretending that they didn't have a killer on the loose, they enjoyed the moment.

Later, Monroe drove Rosaleen home, and insisted on walking her to her door. She laughed, "I do know how to get to my door. I've been doing it for years."

Monroe shrugged and smiled, "Don't argue. It's how I was brought up. Just enjoy it."

As they came to the door, she turned and said, "Are you sure you're not just trying to be slick and score a kiss?"

Monroe blushed, and then straightened, "Of course not. I have no ulterior motives. I'm just seeing you to your door."

She smiled, "Pity. I do."

She quickly moved in and kissed him. His reaction shocked them both. A growl came deep from his throat, and he all but slammed her against the door, while still kissing her.

He quickly snapped out of it and pulled back with a look of horror on his face, "Oh God! I am SO sorry. Please forgive me. I-I-I think I better leave."

With that he turned and all but ran to the car. He heard a shout before he opened the door. He turned around, bracing himself for her reaction.

She leaned on the pouch railing shouting, "Hey, Monroe. I say that kiss alone guaranteed you a second date. Interested?"

He smiled, "Um, yes. Sure. Next Saturday good for you?"

Rosaleen laugh, "Perfect. Can't wait." With that she went into her house.

While this was going on, a lone figure stood in the shadows, watching everything.