A/N: Hi guys, sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up.

This chapter just went on and on and yes, I've had to split it again. So, there will be one more chapter to go. I've already written it (mostly), so I should be able to put it up tomorrow.

Thank you to everyone who's been kind enough to read and review. I truly appreciate the support. :D I must confess to not being wildly happy about this chapter. It just didn't come together like I hoped, so, it's annoying me a bit. But, I've learnt to let these things go and just move on. I'm posting the chapter and asking folks to be kind as we move onto the final chapter after this. . I really struggled to know how to end it, as you'll undoubtedly notice.

And for D Squirrel, this chapter is why I laughed when I saw your name, because I knew what I'd had planned. LOL And Ruth, I normally do write longer fics, but this one was only meant to be two chapters, so it's snowballed a bit already. ;) I do have another two parter Grimm fic I've written/am writing. The first part is Renard and Monroe as they deal with his obsession problem. I know Renard/Juliette don't seem to be popular, but I really wanted to investigate the relationship between the three of them as they deal with Adalind's spell in different ways and look at obsession vs love and then have Monroe in the middle of it all. Just mentioning it because that will be a longer fic.

Okay, enough carry on from me, let's get this chapter over and done with, hey?

Chapter Four

Hank shook his head as he viewed the contents of Monroe's refrigerator. "Man, I don't know what half this stuff is." He pulled out a tube of what the label told him was tofu and looked it over. "You don't have any real food in your fridge." Monroe turned around to see Monroe wasn't listening to him. Instead, the other man had his face up against the kitchen window, peering out into his backyard. "Hey, Monroe, what are you doing?"

Monroe didn't turn around, just kept on fidgeting about as he stared out into his darkened yard. "That squirrel is in my walnut tree," he muttered, clearly agitated by the thought. "The little furry bastard."

Hank closed the refrigerator door and shrugged. "So, it's a big tree and one squirrel. What's a few nuts here and there?"

Monroe whipped around, eyes wide and manic looking. "Nobody touches my nuts!" he declared loudly.

Hank folded his arms in front of his chest and gave him a wry look. "I'm beginning to think that is your problem, man."

Monroe seemed to miss the humour in that statement as he went back to his squirrel spotting.

"You need to relax," declared Hank. "We'll turn on the TV, catch the end of the game."

"Yeah, yeah," he said Monroe distractedly, "sounds great."

"I've got to use your bathroom. Where is it, upstairs?"

Monroe waved a hand towards the door and nodded. "Top of the stairs, third door on your left."

Hank shook his head and headed off to find the bathroom. As he climbed the stairs, he remembered what it was like to be blissfully ignorant of this kind of generalise weirdness. The good old days where he wasn't side eyeing everyone wondering if some kind of creature lurked behind that human façade and he didn't spend his Saturday nights babysitting a wolf in hippy's clothing. Hank looked around at the house's decor and felt like he'd stepped back in time. The whole house had this weird vibe to it and all those clocks didn't help. It was like a museum for odd knick knacks and ticking clocks. It kind of suited its owner, which was probably the most unsettling thing about it for Hank. He liked Monroe, but he wasn't as comfortable with his Wesen-self as Nick seemed to be. It's one thing to call someone a monster, another thing completely actually seeing it with your own eyes. Hank understood that Monroe was living the clean life these days, but it didn't change the potential harm he could do with the thing that lived inside of him. He used the bathroom and headed back downstairs. Maybe tonight wasn't going to be so bad. After all, Nick was probably already at the old woman's house and getting that cure thing already. He walked into the kitchen and came to a dead halt, eyes going wide at the sight which confronted him. "What the?"

Monroe was sitting at the table. He looked up at him and smiled innocently. "Oh, hey man, did you find it alright?"

Hank couldn't answer as he took in the sight of a grey, fluffy tail sticking out of the kitchen sink and bits of fur and blood splattered all over the kitchen floor and table. "What happened here?" he squeaked.

Monroe looked at him blankly. "What do you mean?"

Hank could see Monroe had some grey fur stuck between his teeth as the other man smiled up at him. Hank made a horrified sound. "You ate the squirrel!"

Monroe frowned. "What? No, I didn't. What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact there is a partially eaten squirrel in your kitchen sink," said Hank in distress. He pointed at the sink.

Monroe looked where Hank was pointing and gave a little start, as though seeing the squirrel's body for the first time. "How did that get there?" he asked in genuine confusion.

"Gee, I don't know," said Hank sarcastically. "Why don't we ask the guy with squirrel caught in his teeth?"

Monroe's hand went to his teeth and he plucked out the sodden piece of fur and flesh. "I have no idea how that got there."

"This may just be my cop's gut talking," said Hank in agitation, "but I'm guessing it was when you were eating the live squirrel."

"But I don't remember doing that," protested Monroe. "You'd think I'd remember something like that."

Hank glanced over at the bloodied sink and grimaced. "I know I won't be forgetting it in a hurry."

A hopeful expression lit up Monroe's face. "Maybe there is another explanation?"

"You mean like the squirrel walked into your kitchen of its own free will, dismembered itself in your sink and then wedged a chunk of itself between your teeth?" bit out Hank. "You're right, that's probably exactly what happened."

"No need to get snippy, man."

"I'm talking to a guy who just ate a live squirrel, I'll get snippy if I want," threw back Hank. "That blood lust thing is getting a hold of you."

Monroe snorted. "Dude, please, I'm completely in control." He scratched noisily at his beard.

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation and Hank turned around to see who it was. Through the curtains in the window by the door, he could see Juliette. "Damn," he muttered, "it's Juliette, you're going to have to get rid of her." Hank turned back around to find Monroe hungrily licking at a little pool of blood on the table top. "Monroe, stop that!" he ordered him fiercely, keeping his voice low.

Monroe straightened up, a little trickle of blood caught in his beard. "Stop what?"

Hank made a frustrated sound. "You're licking up blood."

"No, I'm not."

"I'm getting pretty sick of having this conversation with you." Juliette knocked again. "And we don't have time for it. You need to get rid of Juliette."

Monroe blinked. "How? She knows I'm home, the lights are on."

Hank resisted the urge to point out that while Monroe's 'lights' might be on, there were definitely signs that no one was home. It was a waste of time. Right now he had to get Juliette out of this equation. "Go and talk to her, just don't let her in. Juliette doesn't need to see you in this state. She's already got enough questions."

Monroe jumped up. "Yeah, yeah, sure man, no problem." He hurried out of the kitchen to stand in front of the front door, while Hank made sure to stay out of view through the window. "Yes?" called out Monroe.

"Monroe, it's me, Juliette."

"Oh, hi, Juliette, how's it going?"

"Fine, I was just looking for Nick."

"He isn't here."

"Oh." There was a brief pause. "Um... are you going to open the door?"

"NO!"

Juliette sounded a little shocked by the force of Monroe's reply. "Oh, umm, okay."

"It's just that I'm-ah-I'm-" Monroe was clearly struggling to come up with a good reason. "I'm naked."

Hank closed his eyes and shook his head.

Juliette's tone sounded rightfully confused. "You're naked?"

Monroe looked a little panicked now as he scrambled around to answer that question. "It's-it's a family tradition. On the anniversary of my grandfather's death, the eldest grandchild has to spend the day naked."

Hank looked at Monroe in disbelief. Monroe made a helpless face and held up his hands, as he shrugged.

Juliette sounded cautious when she finally replied. "Oh, umm, okay then."

"It's a family thing," said Monroe weakly. "You understand, right?"

"Of course," said Juliette politely.

"Anyways, I haven't seen Nick all day." Monroe turned to Hank. "Have you seen Nick today, Hank?"

Hank eyes went wide as Monroe spoke to him. He mouthed the words 'what are you doing' loudly.

Monroe pulled a face and mouthed back 'sorry, dude'.

Now Juliette sounded really confused. "So, that is Hank's car parked across the road. I wasn't sure. Hank, are you in there?"

Hank threw up his hands as Monroe shot him an apologetic look. Hank cleared his throat and tried to sound nonchalant. "Oh hey, Juliette, how's things?"

"Fine, I guess," she replied hesitantly. "So, you're with Monroe tonight?"

"Aha," said Hank unevenly.

"Are you naked?" Juliette asked hesitantly.

"No," said Monroe quickly, "Of course not, that'd be weird."

"Oh sure," said Juliette unevenly, "that would be weird. It's a lot less weird when only one of you is naked."

"Hank was just returning my um, my screwdriver," lied Monroe.

"Your screwdriver?"

"Yes, he borrowed it last week and now he's returning it."

The scepticism was back in Juliette's voice. "On a Saturday night, while you're naked?"

"I was in the neighbourhood," said Hank weakly, knowing he was going to be getting some strange looks from Juliette after this. Well deserved ones. "You know, no time like the present."

"I guess," said Juliette slowly. "Well, umm, if you see Nick-"

"We'll tell him you're looking for him," finished off Monroe quickly.

"Okay, thanks and ahh, I'm sorry about your grandfather, Monroe."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

Hank blew out a relieved breath when he heard the sound of Juliette's retreating footsteps. He turned to glare at Monroe. "You're spending the day naked because it's the anniversary of your grandfather's death?" he declared in disgust. "Really?"

"I panicked, okay. I couldn't think of a reason not to let her in."

"You're a Blutbad, you spend your whole life living in half-truths and shadows," said Hank in annoyance. "How can you be so bad at lying?"

He moved his shoulders and gave a weak smile as he started to scratch at himself again, jiggling on the spot. "I don't know, man, it's never been my thing."

Hank shook his head in disgust. "Unbelievable." He took in the way Monroe was looking more uptight by the moment. "I'm going to go and clean dead squirrel out of your kitchen."

"I'll help," said Monroe brightly, taking a step towards him.

Monroe held up a hand to him. "I don't think so. You stay here." He stalked back into the kitchen, shaking his head. "Next time Nick asks for a favour, the answer is going to be no," he muttered to himself. On his way to the dispose of the squirrel, Hank trod in some of its blood, getting it all over his shoes. "Great," he grumbled, shaking his foot. Hank quickly wrapped the squirrel's body up in a couple of plastic bags and walked it out to the trash. He headed back out into the living room to find Monroe with his back to him, staring out the front window now. "Where do you keep your mop?" asked Hank.

Monroe didn't turn round, just tilted his head. "You've got blood on you."

Hank gave him a surprised look at Monroe's back. "How can you tell?"

There was the sound of sniffing. "I can smell it on you." Monroe turned around and that was when Hank saw the large knife he was holding in his hand.

Hank reacted without thinking, his cop instincts kicking in as he went for his gun. He levelled it at Monroe. "Put it down, Monroe," Hank ordered him sternly.

Monroe gave him a confused look. "Put what down?"

"The knife in your hand," bit out Hank, not taking his eyes off the other man.

Monroe held up his left hand and looked at it intently. "What knife?"

"Your other hand," ground out Hank, not sure if Monroe was playing with him or he really was this dissociated from his own body.

Monroe held up his right hand and looked at the large hunting knife he was holding. "Huh," he said, sounding perplexed, "how did that get there?"

"The blood lust it taking you over," said Hank sternly. "You need to throw that knife away before someone gets hurt."

Monroe made a tutting noise. "Dude, you're overreacting. I told you, I don't think I'm all that affected by the pheromones."

"I got a squirrel corpse that says different," ground out Hank. "Now, drop the knife."

Monroe walked towards him. "I think you just need to relax, man. You're getting all hot and bothered for no reason."

Hank's hand tightened on his gun. "Stay where you are!"

Monroe kept walking. "I am, I'm not the one moving, you are."

"Don't make me shoot you, Mon-" Hank didn't get any further as Monroe abruptly woged into his Blutbad persona and leapt at him. Monroe moved so quickly, Hank didn't have time to react. The gun was knocked out of his hand and skittered under the grandfather clock in the corner. Hank grabbed at Monroe's arm and stopped him from plunging the knife into his chest. The trouble was, there were still Monroe's snarling, sharp teeth to deal with. Hank kicked at Monroe's legs, knocking them out from underneath the Blutbad. As Monroe fell to the ground, Hank darted past him, running towards the front door.

"Why did you kick me?" complained an again human Monroe, looking upset.

Hank was trying to get out the door to get to his car and his backup gun. The door was locked though and throwing his weight against the heavy frame a couple of times told him that it wasn't going to let him out easily. Hank spun around, to see Monroe back on his feet, advancing on him.

"Dude," he said innocently, "what's your problem? You're acting crazy."

"You're trying to kill me!" shouted Monroe.

"Why would I want to kill you?" protested Monroe. "We're buds." He raised his knife again and lunged at Hank.

Hank bolted back into the living room, shoving Monroe out of the way and narrowly avoiding the knife blade. Monroe was giving chase as Hank darted around the house, leaping over furniture and throwing things at the other man in an attempt to slow him down. It was quickly clear he wasn't any match for Monroe's Blutbad enhanced strength.

"Dude, what's wrong? Why are you freaking out?"

"You've gone nuts!" Hank shouted at him, scrambling to keep out of his way.

Monroe snorted as he jabbed his knife at Hank and narrowly missed, embedding the knife into the wall instead. "I think I'd know if I'd gone nuts, man."

Hank didn't bother answering, just tried to keep ahead of Monroe and find a way out of the house. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Monroe stumble back over the sofa as he pulled his knife out of the wall. Hank ran up the stairs, managing to get out of eyeshot of Monroe. Now he was faced with the labyrinth of rooms on the upper level of the house. He looked down at his shoes and realised Monroe would be able to track him easily with the squirrel blood on them. Hank ripped off his shoes and socks, then ran barefoot down the halls, looking for a weapon to use against Monroe, or at the very least, a safe place to hide. "This is not how you're going to die, Griffin," he grunted, running for his life. "You're no one's snack." He couldn't die, because he'd promised himself he was going to kill Nick the next time he saw him, for dragging him into this.

That thought was the first happy one of the evening.