Chapter 68

I drove up to the spice shop, and Monroe's VW was parked out front.

"This is stupid," I said, slowing the car. "I'm going to look like a jealous girlfriend walking in there. That poor woman just lost her brother. She doesn't need a half-Grimm and two rabbits interfering."

"Look over there." Chloe pointed to the right. "There's a coffee shop across the street. Buy two cups of coffee and bring them over. Perfect cover. Who can say no to coffee?"

Monroe liked a good cup of coffee, and the place Chloe was referring to made a decent cup that even Monroe would approve of. Okay, this was a good idea.

Pete was biting back a smile in the reflection of my rearview mirror. He was trying really hard not to laugh at both of us.

I parked the car, and we walked over to the coffee shop. I hummed 'Girl Next Door' by Saving Jane along the way.

"There's no way to deny she's lovely.
Perfect skin, perfect hair,
Perfumed hearts everywhere.
Tell myself that inside she's ugly.
Maybe I'm just jealous.
I can't help but hate her.
Secretly I wonder if my boyfriend wants to date her…"

Chloe laughed. "Saving Jane? Wow, I hope this Fuchsbau has good medical insurance."

I stopped humming. Chloe knew my songs better than most. "I'm not going to do anything."

She patted my shoulder as we opened the door. "Just avoid hitting this one's nose this time. That was expensive."

I bought two World Cup Roaster coffees along with a box of assorted pastries. I couldn't look too jealous bringing food and drinks, now could I? Besides, it was proper southern etiquette to console people with food when someone died. I was just being… polite. Yeah, even I wasn't buying that one.

As we crossed the street, I juggled the coffees while Chloe carried the pastries and the baggie of cream and sugar for me.

Pete stayed behind the both of us. "Women are funny creatures." He laughed. "No wonder men don't understand them."

I knocked on the spice shop door. It wasn't right to just barge in. The sign on the door read 'Closed,' even though the inside was clearly visible through the glass pane on the front.

A woman a couple of years older than me cracked open the spice shop door. "Sorry, but we're closed," she said, looking at me with the largest brown eyes I'd ever seen. They reminded me more of a deer than a fox, and the color mirrored Freddy's eyes.

"You must be Freddy's sister," I replied quickly. "I'm Renée Davenport, and I think my boyfriend is here with you. I just stopped by with some coffee and some breakfast. Thought you guys might need a little boost."

She paused and then opened the door wider. This Fuchsbau wasn't a vixen at all — at least she didn't dress like one. She was wearing jeans and an orange shirt with a zip-up hoodie that was a few shades lighter. Her golden brown hair was pinned up with a plastic clip barrette. Vixens didn't wear plastic barrettes. The Un-Vixen was pretty, but no Marian Rabosa, thank goodness. "Monroe?" she called behind her.

Monroe emerged from a stack of boxes. "Renée!" he said, looking a bit surprised as I walked in with my little consort of bunnies behind me.

Just being back in the spice shop was overwhelming. My eyes traced the space where Freddy had been shot, and I shuddered in spite of myself. A strong scent of bleach hung in the air, and the carpets had been replaced. Perhaps it was too soon for me to come back here. I pressed on my practiced calm to wash the memory away. Some of the shelves were bare, and brown boxes filled the room. Nick had said the Fuchsbau wanted to get back to Seattle, and she was packing fast.

I held out a cup of coffee in Monroe's direction. "I bear gifts!" I smiled, regardless of my uneasiness.

"Coffee?" He smiled, taking the cup from me. "You must've read my mind!" I'd watched the barista like a hawk to make sure she made it the way he liked it. From his contented face it seemed like she had.

"And one for you…?" I gave the Un-Vixen a look to let her know a name would be nice.

"Rosalee. Rosalee Calvert." She forced a smile. Same last name as her brother's, so she probably wasn't married. The Un-Vixen was troubled, which was understandable, but she was genuine. My abilities, or whatever it was, told me that immediately.

"Here you are, Rosalee." I smiled back. "I hope you're a coffee drinker."

"Yeah, I love coffee," she said, taking the cup. Her face relaxed a bit. "Thank you so much!"

"There's cream and sugar if you need them." I pointed to the baggie Chloe was carrying.

"And we brought pastries." Chloe came forward, opening the bakery box. "Breakfast of champions."

"Sorry, these are my friends, Pete and Chloe Haas. They're in town visiting me."

"Brother and sister," Pete added quickly, "we're not together." He moved past Chloe and gave Rosalee a smile as he took her hand.

"Nice to meet you." She returned his smile with one of her own.

Monroe approached Chloe, and she tensed as he picked out a cherry turnover. "What, no hug?" he joked, taking a bite.

Chloe gave him a blank stare. "Hardly."

He flashed her a sly grin. "Back to being jumpy now that the alcohol is gone, huh?"

She scoffed. "Back to being just as funny as ever, huh?"

I gave them both a look and shook my head.

"Can I help with anything, Rosalee?" Pete offered, ignoring the banter. "Looks like you're packing."

"Yeah, I'm closing the shop and going home to Seattle as soon as I can," she replied.

"Sorry about your brother," I said solemnly, turning my focus back to the Un-Vixen. "He was a really nice guy."

"You knew him, too?" She had a woge then waited for mine. I didn't have a dead leaf to show her my trick. She retracted, took a step back, and looked at Monroe. "She's not a…?"

"Well, no… I mean, she's… different."

"Different…?" Her eyebrows knotted. "Like that detective friend of yours, different?" She must have already experienced Nick's 'other half.' Just great. No wonder my vague expression hadn't fazed her.

"Umm…" Monroe muttered. "Well, yes, like Nick, in the sense she can see us, but different in the sense that, umm…" He sighed as his shoulders slumped.

Rosalee looked me over as red fur sprang out again. "But she can't be a—"

"I'm part Grimm," I said evenly, holding her bewildered gaze. "I really don't like to share that with everyone, so if you could keep it between us, I'd appreciate it." The Un-Vixen was going back to Seattle soon, so it wouldn't matter if she knew.

Chloe reached for my arm and gave me a look that said, 'Your low profile officially sucks.'

"This just gets more and more complicated." Rosalee shook her head. "And what about your friends?"

Chloe and Pete had a woge in unison.

"Karnickelhöhles, okay." She nodded, but her eyes were still wide and puzzled. "But then how can you…?"

The jingle of the door startled us all and we turned around. A man in a police uniform walked in, looking quite distressed. I'd seen him a few times before, since I was becoming a regular at the precinct. He was the sergeant with the bad jokes.

"Hey, I'm supposed to, uhh…" He was breathing heavy like he'd just run over here. "Uh, come down here and, uhh… make sure everything is…"

"You don't look so good," Monroe commented. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Sergeant Out-of-Breath said, shaking his head and sweating profusely. "Never better." And with that, he passed out right on the antique Oriental rug.

"Holy crap!" I rushed over quickly and knelt beside him.

Monroe swooped down next to me as the sergeant's face began to fill with puss-filled boils. "Oh, God," Monroe said.

"We gotta get him off the ground, now," Rosalee cried, peering over us.

Monroe and Pete got him over to a table while Rosalee ran to the back room, returning with a blanket, covering him up. She examined his face, furrowing her brow.

"Oh man, this isn't good!" Monroe grasped the back of his neck with one hand and pulled out his cell phone with the other. "I'm calling Nick."

"Now you see, that looks like a Zaubertrank gone wrong," Pete gestured toward the swelling boils. "But, that wouldn't happen to Jack, because I know what I'm doing."

"Zaubertranks?" Rosalee looked interested at Pete. "You know about those?"

"Yeah. I'm a chemist, but I've been doing quite a bit of apothecary work on the side. It's chemistry in another form, so to speak."

"Then come with me, so we can fix this."

"I'm already ahead of you," he said as he and Rosalee started pulling ingredients from boxes and shelves. "We're going to need keim extract."

"On the shelf, over there." She pointed across the room.

I turned back to Monroe, who was still on the phone with Nick, describing the boils on the sergeant's face like an impending volcanic eruption. I was feeling useless, and this guy wasn't foliage, so I wasn't going to try to use my magic on him. Chloe was looking wide-eyed and more useless than I was.

"You don't have to watch this," I told Chloe. "You can go outside if you want to."

"Yeah, this is…" She looked at Sergeant Boils-a-Lot, grimacing as she held her mouth. "I'll be outside, trying not to hurl, if you need anything." She quickly shook her head and walked out.

I went back to Pete and Rosalee. "How can I help?"

"Find a sponge," Rosalee said, not looking up from the book she was combing over. "There should be one in the back with the other supplies."

"I'm on it." Dashing to the back room, I scanned the metal shelves, quickly finding one still wrapped in plastic. I opened it up and ran back.

"Perfect," said Pete, handing me a bowl. "We need to apply this to his face." He was still mixing ingredients into a second bowl.

"Sure. Whatever we need to do."

For the next ten minutes I dipped the sponge in the mixture and dabbed it as best I could on the sergeant's boils. They were bursting under the sponge as I worked. Now was not the time to get squeamish, but I was holding back cringing. Pete and Rosalee were still scouring books for the remainder ingredients to whatever they were making in the second bowl. Sergeant Boils-a-Lot screamed as I held the sponge near his cheek, and he shot straight up, scaring the bejesus out of me. I yelped while reaching for him, trying not to spill the bowl in the process.

"Hold him down!" Rosalee yelled out. Monroe ran over as we pressed him back down on the table. "Keep applying that to his face," she said. "We're almost done."

There was another jingle of the door. We turned toward the sound as Nick hurried inside. His eyes bulged at the sight of Sergeant Boils-a-Lot. "We need to get him to a hospital," he said urgently.

Rosalee shook her head. "They won't know what to do. They'll read it as one of those mystery infections they can't identify, and he'll die. I've seen this before."

Pete was nodding as she spoke and poured the rest of the bottle into the bowl.

Monroe gaped at Pete. "You're using all of it?"

"He needs more than this," Pete replied, "but it's all we have."

The sergeant bolted upright again, but I was better prepared this time and helped him back down. With a wild-eyed groan, he pushed against me, but Monroe was there to help me again.

"Hurry up," Monroe called out. "This is not going well."

"All right, this is done. Someone open his mouth," Pete instructed, making his way over to the sergeant. "Keep him still."

Nick held down the sergeant's chin. "He's going to drink it?"

"If he wants to live, he's gonna have to," Rosalee replied, stirring the mixture once more as Pete held the bowl.

Monroe and I held the sergeant's head while Pete poured the mixture in. Most of the mixture remained in his mouth, but it sent Sergeant Boils-a-Lot upright again, gasping and moaning. We helped him back down as the screaming continued, while his eyes darted back and forth at all of us around him. Rosalee covered his face. Was that for his sake or ours? He seemed to calm down.

Rosalee let out a sigh of relief, and so did I.

"So, is he going to be okay?" Nick asked, looking up at Rosalee.

"We just have to wait and see." Her big, brown eyes gave Nick a concerned look as she furrowed her brow. "This is going to take a while to work."

"Monroe, can you check on Chloe for me?" I asked.

Monroe gave me an 'Am I really the best person to do that?' look, but went outside anyway.

Nick stared at Pete, like he was trying to will him into a woge.

I did a quick introduction. "Nick this is my friend, Pete Haas."

Pete smiled, woge-free. "Oh, so this is the Grimm." He held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, buddy."

Nick ignored Pete's gesture and narrowed his eyes at me. They were turning gray again.

Pete dropped his hand. "Guess he's not a hand-shaker." He turned and went back to help Rosalee.

Chloe and Monroe came in a few moments later.

"Nick, that's Chloe Haas, Pete's sister," I said as Nick and I rotated toward the jingle of the door behind us.

"So, this is the Grimm," Chloe said, mirroring her brother. "I thought he'd be taller."

"Taller… What?" Nick turned his stormy gray eyes my way. "Are you just announcing it to everyone?"

"Sorry." I feigned a look of remorse. "Didn't think you had a low profile." Since when did he care who knew him or not? "They're the only ones I've told," I assured him.

"So, why are you even here?" Nick continued, his eyes trained on mine. We were back to interrogation mode.

"I brought coffee, and then all hell broke loose," I surmised. "I'm getting good at arriving just before catastrophe strikes."

Jessica Fletcher from Murder She Wrote had nothing on me. No matter where I went, something bad happened. Why did people even invite Mrs. Fletcher to their dinner parties? Someone always died when she was there. You'd think they'd wise up and accidentally lose her number. People might start losing mine here soon. I was starting to rack up a death count of my own. I looked over at the sergeant, watching his chest move up and down. Well, at least he wasn't dead… yet.

"So does she know about you?" Nick whispered, his eyes motioning toward Rosalee.

"Yeah, she kinda figured it out."

Nick flashed a look at Rosalee, who nodded.

"I'm… I'm okay with it," she said with a gesture of her hand. "Two Grimms in a lifetime. Why not?"

"Hey, I'm up to four now, so…" said Monroe like they were discussing diseases. Monroe caught me glaring at him. "Umm, I mean, not like that's a bad thing or anything, you know?" I relaxed my face.

"Well, I guess I should get back to work." Rosalee scanned the shelves and sighed. "I have so much left to do." Pete was already back to packing boxes.

There was things I had to do, as well. The clock on the spice shop wall read quarter after eleven. So, the Jack countdown was close to three hours away, and I still had no solution for that. I didn't want to think about it.

I moved over to one of the shelves. "I'll get to work on this side." The least I could do was help her pack since I couldn't save her brother. Because of me, she was here packing to begin with. Monroe had told me it wasn't my fault, but the guilt hit again as I looked over at the shelf I'd cowered behind. I slid a few jars into a nearby box. The sooner the Fuchsbau could go back to living her life, the better.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

A couple of laborious hours went by as we helped Rosalee with packing, all the while keeping a close eye on the sergeant. There were way too many people in this small amount of space of the spice shop. Including Sergeant Boils-a-Lot, there were seven of us. I still had an impending catastrophe of a different kind headed my way and still no real plan. I couldn't bury my head in the sand any longer.

"Maybe I ought to go on and leave." I sighed heavily as I taped up the box I'd filled. "You guys have things under control with the sergeant, and I have to face the music with Jack here shortly."

"Rosalee might have a solution to Jack," Pete chimed in, smiling wide.

"Pete, I really don't want to mess with a Zaubertrank." I pointed to Sergeant Boils-a-Lot. "You see they're nothing but trouble."

"It's a Verdrängte Erinnerungen." Each syllable enunciated off the Un-Vixen's tongue as she spoke. I tried to work out the German, but it was failing me.

"Supplanting memories?" Monroe asked. "Is that safe, man?" Thank goodness he was here to translate. It sounded more like reformatting someone's hard drive to me.

"It's similar to what I was thinking of using," Pete replied, "but Rosalee says this is less invasive and has a better chance of working long-term."

"So, how is it going to pick out this particular memory and replace it?" I turned to Rosalee to better understand.

"Once the person ingests it, they go into a hypnotic-like state. From there, you can tell the person which memory needs to be erased and replace it with a new one." She gave me a smile. That seemed way too easy, and it still sounded like a dangerous Zaubertrank to me.

"Does anyone want to tell me what any of this is?" Nick spoke out.

"Hey, man. Come with me, and I'll fill you in." Monroe took the young Grimm outside.

"Is this something we can make today, within an hour or so?" I asked Rosalee, glancing up at the clock again.

"Yeah. It doesn't take that long, and it has a twenty-four hour potency, so if he's supposed to arrive today, you should have ample time to give it to him and make the necessary changes."

"Pete, he's your friend. Do you trust this? I don't want to turn him into a vegetable or anything." But if he did turn into one, I wouldn't feel too awful about it.

"Yeah, Née. This will work. We just gotta find a way for him to drink it."

"And you're okay with doing this for me?" I asked the Un-Vixen.

She nodded. "It's never good when one of us shows themselves to a human, and they have to deal with it. This is just restoring balance, in a way."

Chloe put her hand on my back. "We'll balance it," she all but whispered. She knew all that separation drove me mad, and I was biting my tongue as the Un-Vixen spoke.

"Okay." I shrugged my shoulders. "Then let's rewrite some memories."

Pete and Rosalee got to work, pulling more jars.

I turned to Chloe, who had been awfully quiet, considering. This was a new record for her. "Are you doing okay?" I asked her.

"This is all just a lot," she admitted, and I gave her a hug. "Unlike you, I'm not used to being around all this craziness."

"See all the fun adventures you miss out on while you're in Louisville?" I chuckled to clear the air.

"Monroe said you told him about the Blutbad at the mall. I can't believe you didn't tell him about that before, Renée." She lightly punched my arm. "He feels really bad about his jokes. He actually seemed sincere."

"He can be sincere. He's kinda like me, where the jokes help fill the void of awkwardness."

"Well, with everything he's done, I can't completely hate him. I might still criticize, but you know that won't go away." Chloe gave me that model smile of hers. What she said was as much of a 'Monroe is good in my book' as any.

"You know you hugged him last night, right?"

"I did no such thing!"

"Yeah, and you called him a hero in plaid, if I recall."

"Fuck, what did you put in those drinks last night, Renée?"

"It was just your standard vodka and orange juice." I laughed. "Maybe you just have some repressed feelings for my boyfriend that came out after a few drinks."

"Not funny." Chloe clicked her teeth a few times in aggravation.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

I went outside to find Monroe and Nick still talking.

"…then why not just call it a potion?" Nick was saying as I walked up.

"So did Professor Monroe catch you up on Potions 101?" I asked.

"See?" Nick pointed in my direction. "She called it a potion."

Monroe just shook his head. "It's so much more than that. It's wie durch Zauber. Ein Zaubertrank." He grinned at Nick.

Nick glanced over at me and shook his head while his eyes rolled.

"He's basically saying, 'It's like magic. A magic potion,'" I told Nick. At least there was still some German I could translate.

Nick turned back to Monroe, "And you couldn't have just said that?"

Monroe grinned again. "Umm, I did say that."

"Can I borrow Monroe for a moment?" I asked Nick. He nodded, and Monroe and I took a walk down the sidewalk, so I could have a little privacy.

"Okay, be honest… What are your thoughts on the memory replacer idea?" I questioned Monroe, and then added, "I trust your judgment."

"I don't know, man. Anything that messes with your head has a chance of backfiring. But, I mean, we really don't have a Plan B here, so this is as good as any, you know?"

"Rosalee can call it whatever, but it's still a Zaubertrank, and that worries me."

"Yeah, well, what choice do we really have here?" Monroe tugged at his hair while he moved forward. "We can't have him crying werewolf, and there's no way in hell I'm letting him near you." He growled faintly. It wasn't the answer I wanted, but I took it.

"So, what are we going to replace this memory with? Do we want him to remember just going to Phoenix Hill Tavern, getting drunk, and going home?"

"No, I want him to remember me having him up against that wall." Monroe's eyes flashed red at the memory.

"Monroe, maybe it's best if he doesn't remember us at all there that night." I stopped walking for a moment and looked down at my shoes. "Maybe I shouldn't have even gone out to the bar to begin with."

Monroe lifted my chin with his finger, and I was met with his soulful, brown eyes. "You didn't know he'd be there. Dude, it wasn't your fault this happened. I blame myself for letting him get under my skin. This will work itself out, okay?"

I nodded, but I just had trouble believing it.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

We walked back into the spice shop. Sergeant Boils-a-Lot was still unconscious, and Nick was standing over him, watching his covered face like he expected him to rise up any minute. Chloe was sitting in a chair in the far corner, twirling her blonde hair while engrossed in one of Rosalee's books. Pete and Rosalee were stacking bottles and herbs away as we walked up to them.

"It's finished," Pete said with a smile. "Now we just have to wait for Jack."

Rosalee went over the directions again. "After he drinks it, say his name. He should respond. Then say the memory you want him to forget, followed by the memory you want to replace it with. You can do this as many times as needed for each memory. After everything has been said, say his name again followed by, 'wake up.'"

I nodded at the directions. "Can we mix this in anything to get him to drink it?" I could put it in a bottle of Jim Beam. That was a sure thing for Jack to drink.

"It'll be most potent if it's taken on its own," Rosalee replied, handing me a tubular bottle with a cork seal. There was quite a bit of lavender liquid in that glass vial. Lavender was my favorite color, so maybe that was a good sign.

"So, if he doesn't drink it all…?" Monroe asked.

"If you want the best results, get him to drink the whole thing," Rosalee said while packing a few more books into a box.

"I'll jam that bottle down his throat if need be," Chloe said with a smirk as she stood and walked over by my side.

I glanced up at the clock again; it was almost two. Jack would be here soon if he'd taken the earlier flight. Chloe was getting fidgety, and it was probably best to get home.

"Hey, Honey. I'm going to go back to the house," I said to Monroe. "Rosalee, thank you so much for everything. I really mean that."

Rosalee nodded and smiled. I was a bit sad she was going back to Seattle, but she was here for her brother. I refrained from going back on my own guilt trip again.

"Well, wait a second," said Monroe with concern. "Don't you want me to go with you?"

"If Nick needs you, then stay."

Monroe turned to Nick, who motioned him on with his hands.

"Pete, you coming?" I asked.

"Actually, if it's okay with you guys, I'm going to stick around and help Rosalee for a while." He grinned at me. "Besides, if that cop needs help, I'm here to do what I can." Maybe I wouldn't have to worry about Pete moving on after all.

"I'll drive your car, Renée." Chloe gave me a knowing grin. "That way you two lovebirds can enjoy each other's company."

I raised an eyebrow. "You sure you know the way back?"

"Yeah, I paid attention," she insisted. "I'll be there before you, don't worry."

I handed Chloe my car keys and she walked out.

"Thank you for watching over me last night, Monroe," Rosalee said with a warm smile.

"No problem." He nodded. "Glad I could help out." He turned to Nick. "I'll have my phone on if you need me. Okay, man?"

"I'm fine Monroe. Thanks for your help."

Monroe and I walked out to the VW. As I got in the car, I made sure the glass vial was securely in my pocket.

"So, surprise coffee delivery, huh?" Monroe shot me a sly grin as we buckled our seat belts. "Did I notice a tinge of jealously in those green eyes of yours?"

"What? Nah." I grinned back. "I know how much you hate Fuchsbaus and all."

Monroe laughed. "Your buddy, Pete, seems to be a fan though."

"A rabbit and a fox. Is that wrong somehow?"

"It goes a little beyond ebony and ivory, but hey, who am I to judge, you know?" Monroe chuckled. "Opposites have a way of attracting sometimes." He smiled in my direction.

I leaned my head against Monroe's shoulder. "That they do."

Monroe patted my leg. "Just so you know, I don't stray, okay?"

"I'm glad," I replied, resting my hand on top of his. "Because I would've hated to have to punch her in the face."

A/N: Whew! Okay, so we can all cheer Rosalee is in the story! Whee! Renée had a bit of jealousy creep up, but after her history with a female Fuchsbau, it's no wonder, huh?

So, as the author, I'll say this... I love, love, love Rosalee! But I hate, hate, hate Monrosalee. Sorry, guys. Just how I roll. Luckily in my story, Monroe is already dating Renée, so Rosalee and Monroe aren't hooking up in my little world. But Pete, however, is making friends rather quickly. Can we say PeteRose? (That one makes me laugh) Or maybe Rosete? Petelee? Anyway... Don't feel bad for Rosalee in this story.

Keeping in time with the Grimm story line… Poor Wu, right? I've always loved this episode, so we'll stop with this chapter for now. Grimm Friday is upon us! Woot!

Comment if you enjoyed. I like comments, they make me happy. LOL!

STAY TUNED! (: