Work Text:
Nick was a very affectionate person Rosalee came to find out. It didn’t exactly take the mind of Sherlock Holmes to see all the non-subtle ways she would just constantly touch things. It was like she was some sort of personal bubble invading ninja. You didn’t realize she was there until it was too late, her hand was already on the crook of your arm and the Grimm was distracting you with questions and other word like things. Nick hardly gave them, both Rosalee and Monroe or rather anyone else she came across, time to think about those hands and what they could do.
It still surprised Monroe sometimes, Rosalee had caught such a time when the blutbad was in the middle of telling another story about his family when he had just looked at Nick’s legs resting over his while they were sitting on a dingy couch in the back of the spice and herb shop. He had looked like he was staring at a puzzle that had potential to answer the greatest questions of life but the directions where in a foreign forgotten language.
Rosalee knew she had to have had the same look on her face as Nick leaned over the counter and pecked her on the cheek. “I’ve got to go but keep me posted on what you guys find, this is turning out to be more annoying than it is dangerous.”
She felt herself nod and watched as Nick gave Monroe a gentle pat on the arm and left with the little bell ringing. “That girl,” Rosalee smiled with just a twitch of her mouth, her hand unconsciously moving to cover where the Grimm had kissed her. “Is just the cutest thing.”
Monroe rolled his eyes giving the shopkeeper a sardonic smile. “It’s cute because it’s deadly.”
“You’re just mad because I’m obviously the favorite.”
“What?” Monroe barked out a laugh. “Are you seriously playing this game?”
Rosalee tilted her chin forward, laughter threatening to break free and Monroe’s eyes narrowed but his lips twitched up. “I’ve known her longer.”
“Oh, that hardly counts.”
“It totally counts!” Monroe laughs. “I get kudo points or something for, like, softening her up.”
“Yes, but I’m still the one that got a kiss.” She says pointing to her cheek.
--
Monroe is a giant nerd, not just the type that throws out facts at the drop of a hat about what feels like anything no matter how pedestrian, but also is one that explains a certain event by just the events title, expecting all to just understand why it is indeed important.
“Dude,” Monroe’s face contorts into what can only be described as child-like glee. They are celebrating at Monroe’s house for Nick whom has finally mastered the art of not getting her ass fully handed to her when she and Monroe have their little sparing matches. (Monroe’s supporting the bright orange, kiss printed band-aid over the small cut on his forhead proudly.)
Nick smiles and hands Rosalee a glass of wine while sipping at her own cup. “I still don’t see the importance—“
“It’s Shark Week,” Monroe whined, flopping down onto the couch next to Nick who took her place in the middle. “It’s important because it’s Shark Week.”
“Yes, but what is ‘Shark Week’?”
Monroe huffed, “It’s a week, dedicated to sharks.”
“Right,” Nick glared over the rim of her wine glass. “Can’t we just—“
“If you so much as suggest some reality show, I’m sorry, but we can’t be friends anymore.”
Rosalee laughs, cutting off Nick’s reply and just as gracelessly sat on Nick’s other side, “Sorry Nick but I’m going to have to side with Monroe on this one.”
“Fine,” Nick sighs, dejectedly, leaning over and kissing Rosalee on the lips lightly and Monroe on the cheek before finding herself a comfortable spot by laying into Monroe’s shoulder and getting Rosalee to cuddle with her. “You’re all forgiven.”
“Good,” Monroe grinned, reaching for the TV remote and his attention immediately getting caught up in the current show.
And Rosalee once again didn’t realize what had happened until they were all keenly watching the television, waiting for a Great White Shark to fly from the water. Grimm had to be German for ninja, Rosalee thought to herself with a smile, it had to be. It crossed her mind that it shouldn’t be this easy or this comfortable with a Grimm and a blutbad but at the moment she felt it was entirely alright not to question such a good thing in her life.
--
Nick’s lips were not the softest, Rosalee had already come to know and accept this fact but she wasn’t prepared for how talented and addicting their imperfections felt against her own. How Nick would start off slow and gently lick Rosalee’s lips before pressing firmly against the fuchsbau and changing angles.
Rosalee hardly had time to become familiar with the press of Nick against her lips, letting Nick flick her tongue against her own before urging Rosalee to retaliate. It was strange, these unhurried emotions that were building insider her, like starting a fire from scratch with just two sticks. Her thoughts weren’t hurried or scattered either, like time was slowing down giving her time to enjoy herself fully. She had time while pulling Nick’s mouth closer to her own to think of the perfect lip balm for the Grimm, one that would not just cure them from drying out but would also give them a little color while add nutrients that would help keep them perfect looking in any weather.
Nick smiled against her mouth and broke their kiss, moments before Monroe appeared back from down stairs under the shop with a triumphant noise and waving a jar around. “Found it!”
“Good boy!” Nick exclaimed making Rosalee snort.
Monroe rolled his eyes and held the jar up high beyond either of their reach. “Try it again, I dare you, one more dog joke and this is going on the high shelves.”
“Oh, don’t be such a spoil-sport.” Rosalee chided but with a small grin she couldn’t keep hidden. This is her life.
“You say that but I don’t hear her making any jokes toward your spirit animal.”
“You win,” Nick snickered loudly, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “No high shelves, please, my only weakness.”
“I bet you thought I wouldn’t find out.” Monroe sniffed, raising an eyebrow at both women. “Thought I just didn’t notice, didn’t you? That you were just so… not tall.”
Nick huffs and leans with her hip against the shops checkout counter, “Nothing gets past those blutbad heightened senses.”
“You’re darn right.” Monroe agrees readily and hands the jar off to Rosalee who immediately goes off to weigh some and bag it before handing it to Nick with strict instructions for its use. Another cop on her force has been suffering through some questionable rashes on his throat after coming in contact with certain cat-like wesen and apparently is having an allergic reaction. An easy fix she had reassured Nick.
Before leaving in a rush, Nick takes her time to give Monroe a short kiss on his lips and one to Rosalee a little more deeply before running out to help her fellow cop. And this time Rosalee doesn’t let herself be taking by surprise or even to be surprised for not caring that her space had been invaded just recently but instead let herself enjoy the moment of complete ease.
“I am so the favorite.”