Kim's eyes slowly began creeping open as the sun shone through the hotel window. What a predicament she found herself in. She'd escaped Adrianna Lynne and was free…for the moment. And what was more, she'd been saved by none other than her grandmother Barbara Kessler. Kim tried to force herself up to a seating position…and instantly regretted it. Darn those stupid rose bushes. If she wasn't on the run from a group of psychopathic genocidal Grimms, she'd consider suing that stupid airline! Climbing out of bed, Kim was pleased to see that her legs didn't feel all that bad.

Kim still had so many questions to ask. Where had Grandma been all these years? Why did she and Mom have a falling out? The list went on and on. She turned towards Grandma's bed…where was Grandma? The sheets were thrown all over the bed and…oh. Kim snagged the note on the nightstand that read "Kim".

"Went down to the hotel gym," Kim read out loud. "I've got a spare set of workout clothes, top drawer to the right of the TV that should fit you. If you feel up to it, come join me." Sparring would likely be out of the question but...Kim felt up for a job on the treadmill. She could build up an appetite before breakfast. True to the note, Kim found a pair of blue sweats. She pulled on the sweats, electing to keep the shirt she'd slept in and…her hand paused at the door. What if…Kim darted back towards her bed. Kim dove her hand under the pillow and pulled out the butterfly knife she'd taken from one of the thugs that tried to mug her. Grandma Kessler had definitely seen Kim put them there but…she must not have elected to say anything. She'd said that she'd sent them a few miles in the opposite direction of where she found Kim but…Adrianna Lynne was arrogant enough to try again. And after Kim had already made her look the fool once?

The elevator doors chimed open as Kim entered the main floor. Following the signs, Grandma Kessler soon appeared, decking a punching bag with a flawless Mau Rakau form. Grandma must have been the one to train Mom in that particular style. Then, without breaking her stride, she moved to Five Ancestors Kung-Fu, delivering a swift volley of kicks and punches. This was incredible. She moved between fighting styles on a moment's notice, like they were dance moves. Then she moved to Brazilian Capoeira, nearly knocking the punching bag off its hook. By that time, she'd clued into the fact that she had an audience and flashed Kim a smile. She looked like she'd barely broken a sweat.

"I'd think your mother would've taught you it's not polite to stare," She chuckled as she held the door open for Kim. "You sleep okay?"

"As good as I could with a pair of knives under my pillow," Kim sighed.

"Butterfly knife in your left pocket?" Grandma patted her on a shoulder. "You're learning. Good for you. So…what do you feel up to?"

The ladies turned their attention to a pair of treadmills and got a good run going that fast became a competition. Her Grandma really WAS in good shape. Grandma Kessler matched her mile for mile, pushing Kim faster and faster to the point that Kim might as well have been sprinting up a hill. She could do this! Her opponent was in her sixties and…huff…she could do this! She…no, no she couldn't do this! Sprinting that last mile had…oh that was it. Five miles was her limit. Hammering down on the "off" button, Kim held the railings for support. Well…her arms were tender and…now her legs felt like jelly.

"Okay, you…huff…you…huff...you…win," Kim gasped. "I…huff…bow to…huff…you."

"Well…huff...I was a…huff…half step…huff…behind you," She gasped in between chuckles. "You…huff… you're good, very good."

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

"Grandma…why have you and Mom not spoken for so long?"

Grandma…wow, she was still getting used to that…heaved a big sigh. "I knew that question was coming. And…I guess you have a right to know. Well for starters, you need to understand that none of this was ever your fault. Your Mom and I had problems long before you were born. To be perfectly frank…I wasn't a very good mother. Everything came to a boiling point the night you were born, when I did something…and said something…wow, looking back on it, I can't believe neither of your parents didn't hit me that night."

"What…what was it…I mean if it's okay to ask?"

"Oh, I don't mind," She assured, taking a seat on the bed opposite Kim. "How much did your Mom tell you about our ancestors?"

"Well…not a WHOLE lot but I've learned a bunch from studying our books," Kim replied. "I spend time studying them every day."

"That's a good girl," Grandma patted her on the shoulder, taking care to avoid Kim's bandaged cuts. "Anyway, your Mom was one of the rare few that inherited being a Grimm from both sides. You see, when a Grimm and a normal human conceive a child, being a Grimm is kind of like a recessive gene. It's not a sure thing. But on the rare occasions when two Grimms conceive a child together, it is assured that each of their offspring will inherit 'The Sight'."

"So that means that Grandpa Kessler was a Grimm too?"

"Oh very much so; it all goes back to when the two of us first met. I was actually only a little older than you. I'd inherited my abilities from my father, a Sergeant with the Chicago Police department. I was the baby of the family but I was also the only one of my siblings to inherit the Sight. It was the Spring of 1973, I was 19, a Journalism major at the University of Chicago, and other than being a Grimm, I wanted to be a female Edward R. Murrow. I was finally at the age where your Great Grandpa would let me go out on solo hunts…and boy was I ever ready. While coming out of the library after a cram session for a test I spied a pair of Skalengecks. Good God; those guys were EVERYWHERE in college towns back then. I was pretty rebellious but I never went NEAR any of that. Anyway, I see a pair of them woge after a transaction and immediately am on their tail. And as it turned out, your Grandpa Patrick had been tracking them for the past two hours. So I track the two of them to one of the aqueducts leading to Lake Michigan, and into the sewers. And that's how I met your Grandpa Patrick. In a way, it was kind of love at first sight."

Love at first sight? In a sewer? Maybe not the weirdest place to meet a guy but it was right up there. Mom had never really mentioned Grandpa Kessler at all except that he'd passed away when Mom was eleven and his death had been especially hard on Grandma. Every time Kim had asked, Mom seemed…well…kind of reluctant to talk about the whole ordeal. Kim had always just thought that it still affected Mom too.

"Anyway, my behavior pretty much screamed that it was my first solo hunt. After the fact, your Grandpa told me that he'd actually spotted me coming out of the library and was actually trying to catch up with me for the first quarter mile to ask me out until he saw what I'd been tracking. So I pursue the 'Gecks into the sewer and…I'm not exactly proud to admit this but I was so focused on the two I was following that I missed their buddy and he cold cocked me over the head and dragged me to their lair.

'Well it looks like we got us a little party crasher,' One of them brags. You know? Imagine your typical 'bad guy' monologue. 'What do you guys think we should do with her…or to her? Maybe we should INVITE her to the party.'

So I'm struggling, trying to free one of my hands and grab a knife so I can this snake something to smile about. I am SERIOUSLY angry right now. So he starts by backhanding me across the face and most likely to scare me, he woges right in front of me…and he sees what I am. But before anyone else can do anything, the sound of steel leaving a sheath echoes through the tunnels and out of the shadows flies your Grandpa Patrick. A spurt of blood shoots out and I see a blade emerge from the 'Geck's chest. You see, your Grandpa always carried this cane with this fancy handle everywhere he went. What few people knew was that hidden inside the cane was a French rapier, your Grandpa's weapon of choice.

I swear, it was like something out of a storybook, a gallant knight saving a princess from a dragon. He spits out to his kill, 'Only a coward strikes a lady', rips out his blade, and for good measure, slices off the Skalengeck's head. Now, the one holding me makes the oh so tragic mistake of letting me go and my hand shoots straight to my boot knife and I give him an Italian necktie across the throat. The third makes a run for it but I draw my other boot knife and nail him square between the shoulder blades.

'Wow…there's something so attractive about a girl who can handle a knife,' I heard your Grandpa say.

I turn around and…oooooh, he had a set of Paul Newman blue eyes that instantly turned my legs to jelly. From that moment on, I never wanted to look at anyone else. He was literally my Knight in Shining Armor. We were married two years later and a year after that, your Mom was born."

Kim was actually getting pretty fascinated by all this. Mom and Daddy had told her a bunch of stories from when they were dating…but nothing beyond that. And now here was this new source of information. "What…what was he like?"

"Oh…like I said, a Knight in Shining Armor," Grandma wistfully sighed. "It was one of those moments that…it just felt like it was meant to be and the universe was determined to make it happen. I mean, I know that they say relationships based on extreme circumstances never work out. He did save my life…which was a definite plus…but we wound up having so much in common…other than both being Grimms of course. He'd just gotten back from Vietnam a few months ago and was in the early stages of his History degree at the same university. You remember that your Great Aunt, Uncle and I loved the theater? Well Patrick Kessler was a Gene Kelly caliber dancer. When we would go out dancing, your Grandpa would make me want to…well…never mind. Anyway, what you need to understand most about your Grandpa was that when it came to Wesen, your Grandpa was worlds ahead of any Grimm alive up to that time. Your Grandpa served close to five years in the war and…well, like a lot of veterans of that war, he was very hesitant to talk about his experiences there but there was one that, as a Grimm, he was proud to talk about. Though he didn't know it at the time, two of his close friends in his unit were actually Taurus Amentia. Do you know about them?" Kim nodded her confirmation. "Well, the summer of his second year in country, your Grandpa's platoon was out on patrol in the jungle when they came under fire by the NVA. The fight progressed to hand to hand combat and one of your Grandpa's friends, Jerome Whitting, woged into his full form just as he leaped in front of a bullet for your Grandpa. Right before your Grandpa's eyes, a Wesen took a bullet for him. The order was given to fall back…but your Grandpa carried his fallen comrade to the helicopter. The details were a little hazy but your Grandpa's military record stated that despite being shot twice himself, he carried his fallen comrade to the safety of a medical helicopter, and once Jerome was secured, taking up one of the helicopter machine guns, your grandfather provided cover while all but the last helicopter lifted off, suffering another two bullet wounds. The Army waited all of a week before awarding him this," Grandma pulled out a medal from beneath her shirt. "The Distinguished Service Cross; your Grandpa was plain and simply a war hero in the truest form of the word. Enroot to base though, Jerome's woge kept shifting and Patrick never knew for certain if Jerome knew he was a Grimm but…your Grandpa never forgot that. He saw a Wesen take a bullet for a Grimm and that single moment changed his life forever. Had…had we ever had a boy, he would've been named Jerome Lucas Kessler."

Kim had never…Grandpa Kessler was a war hero? And he…he was like her and Mom? All of a sudden, Kim was racked with regret. In the year and a half since Kim had become a Grimm, she'd been fascinated by all things associated with being what she was and had read stories of her ancestors dispatching Wesen in often some truly sickening ways. But here…here was a man that not only she could be proud of but…had things been different…she could've…oh why couldn't she have met him?

"What…what happened to him Grandma?"

"He…he was…murdered," Grandma sighed and Kim immediately noticed Grandma's hands clenching into fists. "By another Wesen."

But…murdered? Mom had always said that… "But…I thought he died…of cancer?" This was obviously still a sore subject for Grandma and…Kim was learning so much that she didn't want to ruin it by pushing too hard.

Grandma must've picked up on Kim's inner turmoil and reached over to hold Kim's hand. "It's okay dear. I…it helps me to talk about it. Yes, you're Grandpa Patrick was murdered. Doctors and the official record said that it was cancer but…I knew different and…kept it from your Mom. It was a Koschie, a rare kind of radioactive Wesen. In 1983, one of Patrick's old Army friends, a Kehrseite-Schlich-Kennen, asked him to look into a few mysterious attacks on military personal in the Chicago area and…Koschie are very difficult to kill. Patrick managed to…but not before the bastard managed to…get a hand on him. It had been brief…but the damage was done. He'd managed to implant a tumor…"

Grandma's breath caught. Kim could feel her grip tightening on her hand. "Grandma…Grandma, we don't have to continue…"

"No…" She murmured, taking a deep breath. "I need to talk about this. The…the official cause of death was Cancer…and that's what your Mom believed. I…I didn't think she was ready to hear what actually happened. So…the eleven year old in pigtails was left to mourn her father alone, all the while her mother trying to turn her into something she wasn't."

"Was…was it because of the…err…what happened to Grandpa that made you hate Wesen?"

"Partly, yes Kim. I…I don't think you could say that I ever really 'hated' Wesen per say. Your ancestry, at least the side you inherit from me, would…oh, how do I say this? Tell me, how much do you know about the 30 Years War?"

"A little," Kim replied. "Mom told me that it was actually a Civil War between the Grimms and the Ende Der Zeitens?"

"Exactly," Grandma continued. "My family, and thus you as well, are direct descendants of Lennart Torstenson, Baron of Virestad, and one of the greatest military minds in European History. A Grimm as well, he was one of King Gustav II's most trusted men as well as the father of modern artillery. He left us a legacy that is…well, we have some big shoes to fill. Let's put it that way. Anyway, I guess I would say that it was more like I didn't trust Wesen, some more than others but all around distrust. Your Grandpa…he…he actually made headway with me. I'd begun to see that my distrust wasn't always warranted…until the day your Grandpa died. That Koschie took what was rapidly becoming a moderate Grimm and turned…turned her into a monster. Nowhere near an Ende Der Zeiten, thank God; I NEVER sank that far…but a monster nonetheless. I…I wanted that Wesen to die in the most agonizingly painful way possible and I didn't care what Wesen got in my way. I wanted vengeance, plain and simple…but it didn't make the pain go away. Killing him…killing him only left me with your Grandfather's death, a rightfully distant daughter, and the faces of all the Wesen who'd gotten in my way. Every day of my life, I spend in the company of thirty ghosts, each and every one of them…"

Grandma's breath caught in her throat again.

"But…that's my penance, especially for your mother having to grow up the way she did. Believe me Kim, as much as we try to convince our kids otherwise, we're far from perfect. Your Mom…and you now that I think about it…you're both so much like your Grandpa Patrick that it's scary."

"Really? I'm…I'm like Grandpa?" Kim actually felt kind of honored.

"How many of your friends are…are Wesen?"

Oh…well…what did she say? Mom had always said that…but Grandma had been talking like she…and did Kim even MENTION Ron? "Three best friends; one of them was kind of a result of my first hunt. She's a Luisant-Pêcheur who'd been adopted by a 'family' of Skalengecks. Every one of them was dealing drugs and…and her step-brother was raping her. The bastard was my…my first kill. I put a kukri into his chest and helped Monique get out."

"Patrick would've done the same," Grandma even let a hint of a smile creep onto her lips. "He always looked like the dashing hero from a storybook; D'Artagnan from The Three Musketeers or Captain Hornblower from Horatio Hornblower. Anyway, after your Grandpa's death…I'd blamed his beliefs for…everything. He'd devoted his life after the war to making peace with Wesen…and he was still killed by one! I was so…MAD, at Wesen, at the world in general, and I wanted the Wesen world to feel the pain and loss that I now had to cope with every day. What didn't make it any easier was that your Mom had taken to her Dad's belief system like a duck to water. As similar as we were in appearance, your mother was her father's daughter down to her sneakers, compassion for Wesen and all. Every time I looked at your mother…I couldn't help but see Patrick. It…sometimes it was like being slapped in the face every morning at breakfast. And if my daughter was ever to…I…well suffice to say that our problems started there. The straw that broke the camel's bac was when I showed up in the hospital room the night you were born, once again trying to…in 17 years, your Mom and I have spoken face to face maybe half a dozen times."

It kind of made sense when Kim thought about it; all Mom had ever said about Grandma specifically had been that they had a very complicated relationship. Grandma had been excessively strict, paranoid, and suspicious after Grandpa had died. Mom even said she was suspicious hat Grandma had stalked her and Daddy when they started dating. Mom hadn't been a push over but she'd allowed Kim and the twins a certain degree of freedom, and to Kim's knowledge, Mom had never regretted it…mostly since Kim had tried to never give her a reason to. And this woman was the reason Mom tried so hard? But what Kim saw before her wasn't at all the hardened Wesen slayer that she imagined. This was someone who'd endured a horrible loss and…in doing so, she'd made mistakes that she was trying to make amends for.

"Kim…could I ask…that is I…what…what exactly did your mother…tell you about me?"

She wanted to know if there was hope! "Well, not a whole lot before I became a Grimm. Even then, I got the feeling that he was glossing over a few of the details but…she said you guys had a very complicated relationship. You two didn't exactly see eye to eye on Wesen and…I guess that's pretty much it." Kim once again wrapped her arms around her Grandma. "Grandma, the moment we get back…"

"'We' get back?"

"Oh, you're coming too Grandma," Kim stated as matter-of-factly as she could. "Anyway, when we get back, Mom, you, and I are going to have a little talk. I'm not giving up my Grandma now that I've found her."

KPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKPKP

Anne had been desperate for some sleep She was utterly exhausted and the moment the plane took off and headed east, Anne clocked out, if only for a quick catnap. Anne would be no good to her daughter if hadn't slept. To make things easier, she caved and had a shot of whiskey to take the edge off and thankfully that was also enough to prevent any dreams…but she'd woken up just as the call on her phone went to voice mail.

Was that Kim?

She hammered in her code to unlock the phone and see the number. Not one she recognized but…if they had confiscated Kimmie's cell, it likely would be a strange number. But the message…Anne brought it up.

"Annie, its Mom. I've got Kim and we're safe for now in my hotel room," What the…Mom was supposed to be in…and now she…if anyone would be able to protect Kimmie from a pack of Ende Der Zeitens, it would be her but…"Listen, I don't want to be too long on this line. Lynne's agents are going to be watching the airport. I don't know how much longer we can stay here. Lynne's arrogant and full of himself…but even his stupidity has its limits. Kim and I will stay here another day at the most and head north to Brest. I…I love you so much Annie. Please remember that…and please be careful."

"Annie? Is it Kim?"

Anne jumped suddenly as she realized that Amy was standing right in front of her. Anne must've been trapped inside her own head for a few moments. She was with Mom, a woman that Kim had never consciously met and…and who Anne hadn't talked to face to face in close to seven years. Anne knew that Mom would do anything to protect Kim but…oh so much could still go wrong with this. Would Kim have sense enough to keep quiet about Ron? Mom had never forgiven her for befriending a Fuchsbau but…how would Mom react to the revelation that her granddaughter was dating a Mannschafte Falke?

"Kim's…with my…mother."

Amy gave a small squeak and unconsciously woged. Anne couldn't exactly blame her. They'd been best friends for over twenty years…and Mom still scared the crap out of Amy. She quickly recovered herself and took the seat next to Anne. "What…what did she…say?"

"She's okay, thank God," Anne sighed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "She said the airport is likely being watched and it's only a matter of time till they're found. I better talk to the pilot about a change in course."

"What's this about a course change?" Sean emerged out of the cockpit and headed towards Anne.

"Her mother is in Marseilles," Amy gasped.

"Does she have your daughter?"

"They're safe for now," Anne replied. "They're going to move day after tomorrow though and head north to Brest."

"Then it looks like we're headed to Brest," Sean got back up and headed back towards the cockpit. "Text your mother back and tell her to head to Maitre Brasseur, a café on the north edge of the city and have them both order an apple and bree panini. I'll have a contact waiting for them there. A journey like that, he'll be of some help."

"Are you sure you can trust him?" Anne called back.

"With absolutely anything!"

Author's Notes:

They say that Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned or a woman mourning.