A/N: Sean joins Nick and Hank on a case involving a wesen healer with a dark past.

The next morning, Sean did not want to get up. Not because he was tired, but because he had his beautiful pregnant soulmate wrapped up in his arms. If he had his way, he'd never stray far from her side ever again. However, he knew that wouldn't always be possible. They were still naked, having crawled under the covers, falling asleep not long after their reunion. He felt Lorelei stir, stretching slightly before she turned over to face him, a beautiful smile crossing her face as soon as she saw him. "Mmm, morning." She said, snuggling closer to him.

"Morning." He said, smiling down at her. He gently tilted her chin up, pressing a sensual kiss to her waiting lips. Her own hand slid up to cup his cheek as she returned the kiss. However, Lorelei broke the kiss with a gasp, her hand leaving his cheek to rest on her stomach. Sean felt panic. He sat up. "Are you ok? Is it the baby?"

Lorelei smiled up at him, a look of wonder on her face. "Everything's fine. It's just…I think I can feel her moving."

A smile broke out on Sean's own face as his hand joined Lorelei's. He waited for a moment. "I don't feel anything."

"I don't feel anything on the outside either. It's very faint, like…fluttering…like butterflies in my tummy." She told him. Sean's slight disappointment must have shown on his face, as Lorelei's hand return to cup his cheeks. "Give it few weeks, mon amour. You'll be able to feel her."

Sean eventually dragged himself out of bed. He did have to get down to the precinct, make sure it was still standing. And it was. As he entered, he called Nick into his office. The detective entered, closing the door behind him.

"I was wondering when you were gonna come back." Nick commented. "How was it?"

Sean perched on the edge of his desk, while Nick leaned against the cabinet beside it. "Well, the Verrat paid a personal call." Sean told him.

"They found out you were there."

"Let's just say there was an indiscretion, but we handled it."

"I'm guessing you didn't make any arrests."

Sean glanced away briefly, contemplating his next words. He looked back at Nick. "There's a great deal at stake here Nick. Allegiances are shifting. My brother's death has caused a great deal of turmoil."

"Too bad I didn't get a chance to meet your brother." Nick said.

A small smirk crossed Sean's face. "I would've liked to have seen that."

"They find out you were involved?"

Sean shook his head. "They're not certain of anything except that you and I pose a great threat."

Nick nodded slowly. "What about Lorelei? Do you think they know she's pregnant? A Grimm carrying Royal blood. I get the feeling that is something they'd be interested in."

Sean sighed. "I honestly don't know. If they do, my contacts haven't heard anything. All we can really do is keep her close."

There was a knock on the door before it opened, revealing Hank. "Welcome back Captain." Hank greeted him. "Sorry to interrupt, but somebody got themselves killed. Anybody interested?"

The detectives returned a couple of hours later. They'd found the victim in the deep freezer of a restaurant, sans his uniform. Sean stood by Nick's desk as they showed him the surveillance footage.

"This is the guy we think killed the waiter." Nick told him.

"He knows there's cameras, that's why he's carrying the box." Hank commented.

"And this, is him ten minutes later." Nick added, showing footage of the suspect, box still obscuring his identity, entering a room.

"Is that the storage room?" Sean asked, stepping forward to get a closer look.

Nick nodded. "Yeah. He goes in, never comes back out."

"So, he kills the waiter, steals the uniform, what's the motive?" Sean questioned.

Nick changed to the footage from a different camera. It showed a group of people, applauding at something. "This guy." Nick said. "Boris Myshkin, guest of honour."

"The killer must have needed the uniform as a disguise."

Sean straightened up. "Myshkin. I've heard of him. He's some sort of Russian healer."

"Sounds like a scam artist to me." Hank said, looking up at Sean from his position on the edge of Nick's desk.

"According to the restaurant owner, Myshkin is staying with this woman, Mila Guryanova." Nick said, zooming in on one woman, before shifting to the woman beside her. "And this is his wife, Olga."

"How does Olga feel about them?" Sean asked, referring to the woman surrounding Myshkin. The man seemed to be flirting with one particular woman.

"What? His groupies?" Hank asked.

Nick smirked. "Doubt she calls them that." He commented, as he went back to the footage from near the storage room, where they could see their victim being dragged into it by their suspect.

"Any idea who the assailant is?" Sean asked them.

"Not yet. Lab's still trying to clean up the image." Nick said, straightening up to look at Sean.

"And no one reported the assault?"

"No." Hank said, as the suspect left the storage room wearing the waiter's uniform. "We believe Myshkin threw his attacker out the window."

"And he went back to the party like nothing happened." Nick added.

"So, the guy who attacked him, could still be on the loose." Hank finished.

"If someone tried to kill Myshkin, there's no reason to think he won't try it again." Nick said, crossing his arms.

"We need to talk to Myshkin." Sean said, glancing at the detectives. "We're dealing with Russian citizens. If the State Department decides to get involved, I'd like to stay in front of this one. I'm coming with you."

Sean pulled up in front of the property Boris Myshkin was staying at, and the three of them got out of the car. "This is the kind of neighbourhood I wish all my crimes took place in." Hank commented, looking around.

"You should know that in Russia, these healers are revered." Sean told them.

"So are circus clowns." Hank said, glancing at Sean.

"Well, this one threw a guy through a window." Nick said, as they walked up the driveway.

They soon reached the front door, which was opened by a young woman in a maid's uniform. Nick held up his badge. "We're looking for Boris Myshkin."

"Please wait here." She said in a Russian accent, gesturing to the foyer.

They entered, as she closed the door behind them before disappearing down a hallway. Sean glanced around, seeing there were other people also waiting, including a young girl in a wheelchair. They must be people seeking out Myshkin's healing abilities. A short while later another woman approached them. "I am Mila Gurayanova. This is my home." She said, also with a Russian accent. "The Myshkin's are my guests."

As she said that, yet another woman came out. Sean recognised her as Myshkin's wife, Olga. "What do you want with my husband?" She asked, looking the three of them in confusion.

"We need to ask him a few questions concerning a police investigation." Sean told her.

"Now is not a good time. He's doing a healing." Olga told them.

"This shouldn't take too long." Nick advised her.

Olga looked at them for a moment before turning around. "This way." She said, walking in the direction she had come from.

They were led into a large room where they found Myshkin with a man and a teenage boy. "My boys wound won't heal." The man was saying. "It never heals, it just gets worst."

"It's hot." The teenager said, as Myshkin placed his hands on the boy's shoulder.

Sean noticed Nick looking at Myshkin's hand with interest. "What do you see?" Sean asked him quietly.

"Something with his hand." Was his reply, still looking.

Myshkin's other hand hovered above the boy's head for a moment, before Myshkin stumbled into a nearby table. Olga rushed to him. She and the other man helped Myshkin sit down. They watched as the father moved to his son, removing the bandage from his head, with the father stating the wound had healed and that Myshkin had done it. He thanked him profusely before Olga ushered them out.

Sean stepped forward, coming to stand in front of Myshkin. "Sorry for the interruption. I'm Captain Renard." He said. "This is Detective Burkhardt, Detective Griffin."

"What do you want?"

"You were at a party at a restaurant last night." Nick stated. "A waiter was murdered there."

"What happened? "Olga asked, coming to stand behind her husband. Myshkin waved his hand at his wife, indicating for her to be quiet.

"According to restaurant surveillance, the man who killed the waiter also tried kill you." Sean said, watching Myshkin closely.

"Don't tell them, we must be careful." Olga told Myshkin in Russian.

"Olga, please." Myshkin said. "We have to tell the truth."

"Never to the police." Olga said, looking off to the side. Sean could hear the distrust for them in her voice.

"No one calls the police in Russia." Sean stated in Russian. He felt everyone's eyes on him. Myshkin and Olga were looking at him in surprise. "They're useless."

"Why am I not surprised?" He heard Hank say quietly to Nick.

Sean looked down at Myshkin. "You told your wife you'd tell the truth." He said to him.

"I have nothing to hide." Myshkin said, getting up. "The man attacked me and I fought back."

"You ever seen this man before?" Sean asked.

"No. But he too spoke Russian." Myshkin said, walking away, stripping his vest off before placing it on a nearby chair. "He's saying…" He finished the sentence in Russian.

"What's that mean?" Hank asked Sean.

Sean shook his head. "It doesn't really translate but if you're gonna kill somebody you hate, it certainly fits the occasion."

Nick stepped forward. "Any reason why this man hates you enough to kill you?" He asked.

Myshkin shrugged. "Ah, many." He said, before lifting up his shirt, revealing scars across his abdomen. "Sometimes…sometimes I try to heal someone, and I fail." He lowered his shirt, tucking it back into his pants. "Some say I do the Devil's work. Some men are jealous because of their foolish wives fall in love with me, but that I can't help."

"What happened to the man who attacked you?" Nick asked, as Sean removed his hands from his pockets, moving them to cross his chest.

"I threw him out the window." Myshkin admitted. "He ran away."

"You should have reported it." Nick told him.

"If I'd known that he had already murdered someone, I would've."

"It's possible he may try again." Sean said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out a business card. "So, I'm gonna leave a patrol unit parked just outside in case." He handed the business card to Myshkin. "If you see anything suspicious, please give us a call immediately. Here the police are not useless."

As they headed towards the front door, the maid from earlier approached Sean. "Is Myshkin in trouble?"

"Would you care if he was?" Sean asked her in Russian.

"He's a great man." She replied.

"Great men have faults." He told her.

"That's true." She switched to English. "Where did you learn to speak Russian?"

"I spent a couple of years in Moscow when I was younger."

"You speak the language very well."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." She replied.

"What'd you see?" Hank asked Nick as they exited the house.

Nick glanced back at him. "The skin of Myshkin's hand became transparent when he was healing that kid. I could see his bones. Could you? Nick asked Sean.

"No, no, but what you're describing is a koschie. I remember meeting one once with my mother in Moscow. He, uh, he was a healer just like Myshkin." He stopped walking, and the other two did as well. "He wore these long monk's robes, he didn't drink, and according to my mother, he was celibate, which was why he came to her. Evidently, the healing fired up his sex drive, and he needed a potion to put the brakes on."

"Myshkin's libido could use some of that." Hank commented. "Man likes to party."

"Oh, he doesn't seem to be suffering too much guilt about his marriage." Nick said, as the resumed walking back to the car.

"Or maybe he's suffering too much." Sean suggested. "He is Russian after all. I'll call a few friends in Moscow, see what I can find out."

As they were driving back to the precinct, Nick's phone rang, and he dug it out of his pocket. "Hmm, it's Lorelei." Nick said, glancing at Sean who glanced back at him in interest. Nick answered the call. "Hey…Ok…Look, Lore, I hate to break it to you, but that car is older than you. It might be time to trade it in…It's your car, you can do what you want with it…Uh huh…Do you need a ride somewhere?...Alright, well have fun. Talk later. Love you."

"Everything alright?" Sean asked him once he had ended the call.

"Oh, yeah. Lorelei's car wouldn't start. She checked all the usuals, but no luck. I think it's time she got a new one. But since it was Aunt Marie's, she wanted to check with me before trading it in."

Sean glanced at him before returning his gaze to the road. "Does she need a lift?"

Nick shook his head. "No. She's going to see a movie with some friends, so she got a lift from them. She was just letting me know her plan to get rid of the car. Thought I might want it for sentimental reasons." He shrugged.

Sean nodded. The car Lorelei had been using was old. He had been wanting to suggest she get a new one for some time but knew that she loved the vehicle she had. Maybe she would be amendable to him helping her get another, more reliable car. He would discuss it with her when he returned home.