Title: Mine
Fandom: Grimm
Pairing: Fem!Nick/Renard
Disclaimer: Fanfiction. This is written purely for entertainment, I claim no affiliation with the characters/show/network/actors. No profit is being made from this.
Summary: Nic is unlucky in love. Renard aims to fix that.
Notes: Written for
this prompt.
Nic hummed as she pushed open the doors to the precinct and made her way to her desk. In one hand she held a paper bag from her favourite bakery and the other was balancing a cardboard tray with three extra-large coffees. Flicking her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head, Nic grinned as she set her hoard down in front of her partner.
“I come bearing breakfast,” she announced, her grin widening as Hank glanced up at her.
“Marcello’s?” Hank’s eyebrows lifted as he examined the logo on the bag. “Someone’s feeling generous. Date went well last night?”
“If you count him calling me an ‘ugly bitch’ and saying that I ‘act like a man’ a success then sure,” Nic shrugged, “It went well.”
“You should date assholes all the time if it means we get to share the comfort food,” Wu, one of the precincts Sergeants said as he peeked into the bag and pulled out a breakfast muffin that was almost too large to hold in one hand. “Also, who’s the extra coffee for?”
“Well I was going to give it to you but….”
Before Nic could finish the sentence Wu had snatched the coffee and stepped out of reach.
“Ah-ah,” he chided, “you can’t go back on it now.”
“Too slow Nic,” Hank chuckled, “too slow.”
“Well we’ll just see if I ever bring breakfast for you guys again,” Nic complained but she was clearly fighting the urge to smile.
“Yeah so, uh, the next time your blind date bombs,” Wu said, “I want the banana and walnut muffin.”
Nick balled up a scrap piece of paper and threw it at Wu, hitting him on the head. Wu merely grinned and winked at her and Nic couldn’t suppress her laugh this time.
“So, um, I’m sorry about your date,” Hank offered and Nic glanced at him before shrugging.
“It’s no big deal,” she said. “Juliette obviously knows a lot of world class jerks.”
“She’s just trying to help,” Hank replied. “People in happy relationships are always trying to set up their friends.”
“I know,” Nic’s eyes sparked with mischief. “I start worrying for my sanity whenever you’re wooing your potential next wife.”
“Just trying to help,” Hank repeated, unrepentant.
“Yeah, sure,” Nic snorted before pushing a stack of folders over to him. “Why don’t you ‘just help’ finish these incident reports.”
Hank just laughed but he took the folders and started working. Nic smiled, fond and amused before turning to her own set of paperwork. If there was a knot in her stomach, the remnants of yet another date gone bad, then she ignored it.
Intellectually Nic knew better than to let what some chauvinistic, pretentious asshole said get to her but this had been the third date in as many weeks that had ended disastrously and it was enough to make a girl wonder. She sighed, shoulders slumping as she bent over her work and so caught up was Nic in her misery that she didn’t notice the way Wu and Hank exchanged looks.
Nor did she notice that her Captain had passed by them on his way out of the office and had overheard the entire conversation.
Renard, for his part, did a very good job at feigning disinterest. From the time she had joined the precinct, Nic had been a distraction. She wasn’t especially tall but when she was a rookie the uniform blues had been…flattering. The pants made her legs look as if they went on forever and the way regulations demanded that shirts be tucked in showed off Nic’s tiny, tiny waist. Renard’s very first thought about Nic was to wonder if he could span that waist with his hands.
Plain clothes were little better. Her jeans clung to her like a second skin and the blouses she wore draped over the curve of breasts that the ill-fitting uniform had hidden. Her hair was usually pulled back into a pony or knot and very seldom did a week go by without Renard spending at a least a few minutes wondering what those dark locks would look like unbound.
That Nic was a Grimm and he was part-Royal complicated things. Renard was after the key, something he was sure Nic had but the way he had dealt with her aunt made asking her for it a horrible idea. Marie had been a second mother to Nic, had been the only person Nic had left and, in hindsight, the way Renard had dealt with Marie was…regrettable.
Marie Kessler’s reputation preceded her and Renard absolutely could not have taken the chance that she would poison Nic with her ideals. Having now seen just how strong Nic’s morals are, just how unshakeable her sense of justice, Renard knew he needn’t have worried. Still what was done could not be undone and he would have to proceed very carefully from now on. Renard had a feeling that if he could get Nic on his side, the two of them together would make an unstoppable team.
Nic’s power as a Grimm was almost equal to Renards power as a wesen and it was growing every day. Should it come down to a fight, Renard could not be one hundred percent sure he would win. Also, the Verrat were becoming increasingly persistent. They had sent two Reapers after Nic, even after Renard had warned them off. If keeping the key out of his family’s hands weren’t so important, Renard would have wasted no time in revealing himself to Nic to let her know she wasn’t alone against the Verrat.
As it stood, the key was far too important to risk implementing an incorrect strategy. Renard had been a hairs breadth away from getting Adalind to work her magic on Hank in an effort to force Nic to hand the keys over. Renard couldn’t pinpoint exactly what held him back exactly. Maybe it was the way Nic absolutely refused to back down from challenges that made Sean wary of trying to force her cooperation. The way she’d handled Taymor’s fighting ring was proof enough that Nic was woman who should not be underestimated.
So Renard had held off on the seduction plan but that left him with very few options for obtaining the key. In fact, it left him with only one viable option. Sighing, Renard tapped his fingers against the steering wheel of his car. If he really was going to do this then now was as good a time as any. Steeling his resolve, he got out of his car and made his way across the street, striding up the few steps that led to the house he’d been parked outside of for the last twenty minutes.
Nic was clearly surprised to see him when she answered the door, but she gathered herself quickly, her features slipping into a polite smile as she invited him in.
“Captain,” Nic greeted. “I, uh, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I’m sorry to drop by unannounced,” Sean tried to smile but his facial muscles felt stiff and unresponsive. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Is everything alright, sir?” Nic asked, her gaze turning concerned as she turned to him after hanging up his coat. “Is this about work?”
“Not officially,” Renard worked to hide a grimace at his awkward response. What was it about this woman that rattled him so much?
"What I meant to say..." He tried again but paused, his mind working overdrive as he tried to get the wording right.
Nic’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline and Renard sighed, deciding to listen to that old adage about actions and words. He slipped into full woge and the effect was immediate. Nic took a couple of steps back, her eyes widening and heartbeat accelerating and Renard had to stifle another sigh. He really, really should have been open with her from the beginning.
"You're a hexenbiest!" She exclaimed, drinking in his wesen features, her disbelief making her voice a little higher than normal and Renard couldn't help but notice her fingers twitch towards her gun.
"The term for males of our species is zauberbiest," he said, keeping his tone of voice as level and calming as he could while he slipped back into his human facade once more. "And it's only on my mother's side."
"But you...you knew!" Nic accused, her eyes still raking over him as if she had a hard time believing what she saw. "All this time, you knew about wesen and you let me think I had to keep a secret. Why?"
And wasn't that just the question of the year? Renard inspected the room for a moment, taking in the dark wood floors and simple furnishings as he tried to buy some time. How could he put this without completely and totally alienating the one person who could help him stop his family, once and for all?
“What do you know about wesen politics and the royal families?” Renard asked in lieu of answer and Nic shifted uncomfortably.
“There are royal families?” Scepticism harshened her features, making her look older and Renard let a rueful smile curve his lips. He’d known she was uninformed but to think that Kessler had left her completely ignorant...it was a true disgrace to the Grimm heritage.
“Sit down, Nicole,” Renard said as he claimed a chair for himself. “I have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Damn right you do,” Nic grumbled but she sat down nonetheless and gave Renard her full attention.
What followed was a discussion that lasted almost the entire night and ended with Nic kicking him out of her home. He told her all about the Verrat and how they served the seven houses, about how her ancestors had hidden away something, dividing the map into several keys, of which she had one. He didn’t ask her for her key, instinct telling him that that would be the wrong move to make. Instead he decided to show that he was on her side by leaving the key in her possession.
Then the truth about her aunt came out and Nic’s fury was palpable. He thought he’d seen his detective angry, thought he knew her rage. He was wrong. Renard went flying across the room, hitting into the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of his lungs when Nic lashed out in rage. She didn’t give him time to recover, grabbing him by his collar and tossing both him and her badge and gun out onto the porch.
“Consider this my resignation,” Nic snarled and slammed the door.
Renard slowly picked himself up and wiped the blood from his split lip off with the back of his hand. He pocketed Nic’s badge and tucked her gun into his waistband. Under no circumstances was he going to accept her resignation but Nic wasn’t in the frame of mind to talk right now. The image of her face tightened with betrayal and fury would stay with him for a long time but right now his body was painfully reminding him that getting out of sight of the house was probably a good idea right now because Nic was pretty damn competent when it came to combat.
The thought made something dark and heavy curl in Renard’s gut but he shook off the feeling. Now was definitely not the time to be giving in to lust but later, later the creature in him would be indulged. He was a zauberbiest after all, one of the most feared of the wesen. It stood to reason that his creature would be attracted to such a display of strength and prowess as Nic had just shown, albeit unintentionally.
Two weeks passed in this manner. Renard didn’t know what Nic had told her partner but Hank hadn’t come storming into Renard’s office demanding he revoke Nic’s resignation so at least that was one less worry on his plate. Logically, Renard knew he had to give Nic time to assimilate everything he had told her. Pressuring Nic right now would only serve to further estrange her and kill any chance Renard still had of gaining Nic as an ally. Patience was a virtue Renard didn’t possess by nature but his attempt at it paid off because a couple of days later Nic knocked on his office door.
“Do you have a moment?” She asked.
“Of course,” Renard nodded and Nic closed the door behind her as she walked in.
“So, here’s the thing,” Nic didn’t take the seat Renard offered, electing to pace in front of his desk instead. “I’m still not sure what game you’re playing and I’m still not sure I trust you but if you’d accepted my resignation my work as a Grimm would have been a lot harder to do. In fact I would have probably be entirely reliant on you to keep myself out of jail. So,” Nic took a deep breath and finally stopped pacing, turning to face Renard and holding out her hand, “I’m the Grimm, Nicole Burkhardt.”
“Sean Renard, the bastard son of King Renard,” shaking her hand, Renard allowed a little of his relief to show and something in Nic’s features softened.
“Captain,” Nic said. “I feel as if this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”
~ 0 ~
Nic had no idea how she kept getting herself into these situations. She grunted as her back impacted against the wall, her head hitting against the concrete with enough force to cause her vision to blur. Taking advantage of her momentary distraction, the hundjäger wrapped a hand against her throat tightening his hold and making Nic gasp for air even as she reached for that garish piece of shit masquerading as a lamp that Juliette had bought.
Her fingers brushed against cold, textured glass and Nic kicked at the hundjäger to distract him as she stretched out her arm until she could wrap her fingers around the base of the vase. She smashed it into the back of the hundjägers head with as much force as she could muster. Thankfully it was enough and her attacker stumbled backwards, dazed and injured. Dragging in ragged and deep breaths, Nic stamped down hard on the man’s foot with the heel of her shoe, feeling the stiletto pierce flesh and then she cut of his howl of pain with a knee to the groin. He fell to his knees and Nic limped over to where her gun had fallen so she could pistol whip the son of a bitch against the same spot where she’d hit him with the lampshade.
Hundjägers were, unfortunately, notoriously difficult to keep down for very long so Nic handcuffed him and emptied all of his pockets. Only then did she turn to where Juliette was standing by the door,
“Did you at least ring for backup?” Nic asked. Her voice was rough from the abuse her throat had taken and she had to wipe blood off her forehead before it dripped into her eyes so maybe it made sense that Juliette was looking at Nic like she was the creature from the blue lagoon or something.
Juliette nodded, her eyes still wide and Nic tried to look as reassuring as she could whilst splattered with blood. Also her dress was ripped from the hem to her hip up one leg and one sleeve was torn away from her shoulder and her carefully styled hair was in complete disarray. Juliette had arranged another blind date, a double one this time. The four of them had met for dinner at a restaurant whose name Nic still couldn’t pronounce (she also still didn’t know exactly what it was she’d eaten tonight) and then had gone to the opera. The entire evening had been demure and civilised and had bored Nic to death.
The heating in Juliette’s apartment was broken so she was staying with Nic for a couple of days. When they’d arrived home, Nic had been in the middle of extolling all the ways the night had sucked to Juliette when the hundjäger had jumped them. Needless to say, Juliette was unaware that her best friend fought creatures thought to be myth and legend on a daily basis but, fortunately, any attempts on Nic’s life could be attributed to the numerous people she’s arrested in the line of duty.
Still, whilst violence had become an all too regular occurrence in Nic’s life, Juliette suffered from no such problems and the attack had shaken her pretty badly. It was at that moment that Nic registered the piercing shriek of police sirens. Before she could blink, her door burst open and Hank was rushing in, followed closely by Renard and Wu.
“Hey guys,” Nic crossed her arms and raised both eyebrows. “You’re a bit late for the party.”
“Nic,” Hank sighed and lowered his firearm, his gazing raking her over from head to toe and, though she couldn’t see him, the weight of Renard’s eyes on her told Nic he was doing the same.
“You okay?” Hank asked and Nic nodded.
“I’m fine, most of this blood isn’t mine,” she shrugged.
“That cut on your head says otherwise,” Renard interrupted and it took a lot of willpower to keep for Nic to keep her expression steady.
Her wound was throbbing so badly she felt nauseous but there was no way she was showing such weakness in front of Renard. The guy had been intimidating even before she’d known he was royalty and their truce was still tentative, a new and fragile thing that Nic was hesitant to test. Renard was ruthless and thorough and on her side. She wanted to keep it that way. She also wanted to make absolutely certain that he didn’t make the mistake of thinking she was someone to be manipulated and tricked, a pawn in his war against his family. So Nic did her best to ignore the wave of dizziness that washed over her, demanding she sit down.
“Head wounds always bleed a lot,” Nic reminded her boss. “I didn’t black out so I’ll be fine.”
“All the same,” Renard said as he placed a hand at her elbow and steered her toward a medic. “You’re going to get checked out. Leave the scene to somebody else.”
Nic was so focused on not showing exactly how much an effect Renard’s sudden closeness was having on her that she missed the speculative glance Juliette sent her way and also the way Wu and Hank raised their eyebrows at each other. Instead she concentrated on keeping her breathing steady and voice level as Renard questioned her away from the hearing of anybody else.
“Another hundjäger?” Renard’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. “And he was by himself?”
“Yeah,” Nic nodded. “He caught me by surprise.”
“They’re trying to wear you down,” Renard said, his frown deepening. “You can’t protect yourself if you’re exhausted.”
Nic just shrugged because he had a point but she didn’t see what she could do about it.
“You need a bodyguard.”
Now it was Nic’s turn to frown and her lips thinned as she stared at her boss.
“Even if I did agree to that,” she scoffed, “there’s nobody suitable for the job.”
“Adalind is,” Renard suggested. “And it won’t be that difficult to come up with a reason for her to stay with you.”
“No.” Nic argued, her voice harsher than she intended. Fighting off the hundjäger had left her nerves raw and Adalind Schade was always a touchy subject.
Renard looked like he wanted to press the issue but was smart enough not to. Adalind had been acting under his orders after all. Besides, Nic had just had an idea.
“Monroe and Rosalee can come stay with me for a while. Juliette’s apartment should be fixed soon.”
“And they would be?” Renard prompted when Nic didn’t elaborate.
“Friends,” Nic said then sighed when Renard motioned her to continue. “Monroe’s a blutbad and Rosalee’s a fuschbau. Neither of them are pushovers.”
Renard was silent for a moment, regarding her and when he did speak his lips had curved into a slight smile.
“You have interesting friends,” he said and placed a hand between her shoulder blades, effectively and unintentionally cutting of any reply that sprang to her lips.
“Well, come on then, Detective. Let’s get those injuries checked.”
Had Renard been looking at Nic he would have noticed the way she bit her lip to distract herself and keep her body from betraying her but, as it was, Renard was looking around for a medic and only turned back to Nic when one came rushing over. Nic scolded herself as her wounds were cleaned and bandaged, frustrated that such platonic and innocent touches were having so strong of an effect on her.
This crush she had on Renard was beginning to affect the way she behaved around him and that was a problem. Renard was not only her boss, he was wesen royalty and his subjects viewed Nic with the kind of horror reserved for, like, Jack the Ripper. Or Hannibal Lecter. Or green Jell-O. The point was that, as much as Nic loved to remind people that she wasn’t the shoot-first kind of Grimm, wesen had been afraid of the Grimms for centuries and that sort of conditioning was not going to be overcome by one girl in a single lifetime. No, getting involved with Renard was a really bad idea. Besides, she’d seen the women he dated. They made Adalind look plain. There was no way Renard was even remotely interested in her and so she had no reason to worry. So there.
As if he’d heard her thoughts, Renard decided at that moment to turn Nicole’s world on its head. He turned to face her as the medic neared, moving the hand he still had on her back to brush his knuckles along her spine. It was the kind of touch a lover would indulge in and nothing in the world could stop the blood from rushing to Nic’s cheeks. Her eyes widened as she stared at Renard but she couldn’t read anything from his expression.
“Make sure you get properly looked at, Detective,” Renard said. “Your movements seem…off.”
And with that Renard smiled, actually smiled, at her before nodding to the medic and making his way back into the house. Nic was so stunned that she barely protested as the medic ushered her behind a screen and unzipped her dress to tape up her ribs. Nic might be not have been in a proper relationship for a long time but she knew flirting when she saw it and that little caress Renard had given to her back was definitely flirting. The question though was why exactly he was flirting with her.
The entire situation was so bizarre to Nic that she eventually decided that she was overreacting. Her head wound was obviously affecting her reasoning because there was no way Renard was interested in her and even if he was, the guy was the epitome of ‘suave’. He’d have better timing than to start something here and now. No, she was reading too much into what was most likely meant to be an innocent touch.
Shaking off the rush of emotion Renard’s touch had evoked, Nic tugged her dress back into place and detoured to her bedroom to change into sweats before dropping her dress into an evidence bag and handing it over to Wu. He eyed the slinky black material before grinning at Nic.
“You know what this means don’t you?” Wu asked.
“That you will never see me in a dress again?” Nic smirked. “I always told you high heels were a curse.”
Wu laughed, as he was meant to, and Nic moved to help process the scene. The sooner it was cleared, the sooner she’d have her home back and the sooner she could soothe her sorrows in a bottle of wine.
“Hey,” Hank greeted as he joined them. “How you holding up, Nic?”
“Meh,” Nic waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll live.”
“In other words, you need to take it easy for a few days,” Hank translated and Wu grinned when Nic rolled her eyes and grimaced.
“Men,” Nic grumbled. “You’re all just a bunch of overprotective mother hens.”
Neither of her colleagues were put off by Nic’s surliness, understanding that she was tired and on edge, and instead grinned at her and teased her until the tightness at the corners of her eyes and mouth softened and she was no longer looking like she was about to slaughter the next person who made a sudden move.
Renard watched all of this from a distance. He’d heard her complain about going on yet another blind date earlier in the day and had wished he could be the one treated to the vision of Nicole in formal wear, a dress that clung to her curves and heels that probably made that pert ass look even more delicious. Then they’d arrived at Nic’s house and for, a moment, he’d been utterly thrown. Her dress was every bit as fitted as he’d imagined and those heels really did suit her but it was the evidence of Nic’s competence at her job that really made Renard pause.
Nic had been breathing hard when they arrived, her dress handing off one shoulder and exposing the strap of her bra. The hem of her dress was torn and her hair was a tousled, dark halo of curls (and every bit as luxurious as Renard had always imagined it would be). With her lips parted as she struggled to regain her composure and her eyes practically spitting fire, Renard thought that Nic had never looked more beautiful. She was dressed like a lady but there was blood on her forehead and she was standing over the bound and beaten form of a hundjäger. The beast in Renard had roared in recognition of a worthy partner and it was all he could do to keep his façade in place.
She wasn’t immune to him, of that much Renard was certain. Nic was very good at looking unruffled but his wesen nature alerted him to signs that she couldn’t possibly hide. The slight musky scent of pheromones when he was close to her for more than a few minutes for one, the very light dilation of her pupils when he touched her, the way her heartbeat picked up when he’d placed a hand on her back.
Nic wanted him just as much as he wanted her and it was with that knowledge Renard had run his hand down her spine. It was a spur of the moment touch, one meant to calm his beast slightly because the timing wasn’t quite right yet. There was still more to do before Renard could make his move. Nic was still a little wary of him and this changed dynamic between them was still a thing to be learned and explored.
But the caress had been a promise to both himself and to Nic because, whether she knew it yet or not, Nic was his and soon the day would come when everyone would know it.
~ 0 ~
“No,” Nic crossed her arms and glared at Juliette, her jaw clenched and stubbornness writ in every line of her body. “Absolutely not.”
“It’s just dinner,” Juliette wheedled. “A couple of hours tops. How bad could it be?”
“Juliette,” the patience in Nic’s voice was very obviously feigned. “The last guy you set me up with ordered me a salad for starters and main course, without my permission mind you, and said that fresh vegetables would ‘help control the excess fat deposits in my butt’. The one before that said I looked like a man. The one before that called me an ugly dyke because I refused to agree with him when he said that women shouldn’t be allowed to play some sports, like soccer. And the one before that took one look at my badge and left the café because you’d never told him I was a cop and he didn’t approve of female police officers.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Juliette rolled her eyes and Nic squashed down a surge of anger. She was most certainly not exaggerating.
“You work with a bunch of chauvinistic assholes and I am never, ever, going anywhere near them again,” Nic replied, turning away from the conversation.
“This is the last one, I promise,” Juliette conceded. “I swear Nic, just give this guy a chance I will never set you up with anyone again. Ever.”
“No!” Nic refused.
“Ever,” Juliette reminded her.
Nic huffed and glared at her friend. It had been a long week. Hank and Wu had been exchanging weird looks and sneaking off to have private conversations. Monroe and Rosalee had moved in and she’d had to put up with them being all ridiculously domestic and doe-eyed around each other. Renard had been a constant, hovering presence over her shoulder which had rubbed on nerves already raw from dealing with the Verrat and Juliette’s attempts at matchmaking on top of the normal everyday stresses of her job. And Juliette had not shut up about this date all week. Nic was exhausted and annoyed and, at this rate, would do almost anything to get her well-meaning friend out of her hair. Almost anything. Including putting herself through yet another blind date.
“Fine,” Nic sighed. “But I’m not promising anything more than dinner.”
“That’s fine!” Juliette squealed and threw her arms around Nic. “You won’t regret this, I promise!”
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Nic rolled her eyes but hugged Juliette back. “At least I get the opportunity to wear that dress I got last weekend.”
Juliette’s face lit up at that and from there the two women enjoyed a couple of hours of girl-time, chatting and gossiping and just catching up on the minutiae of each other’s lives over the week. Nic might play the tomboy in front of Hank and Wu but she enjoyed feeling pretty as much as every other girl did. So, for the evening, she put Renard and the Verrat and work out of her mind and enjoyed her best friend’s company.
Rosalee peeked in on them when she got home and the three women debated shoe and jewellery choices and the merits of Nic putting her hair up as opposed to leaving it down. It was fun and frivolous and Nic actually found herself smiling as she pushed open the door to the restaurant and handed her coat over to the maître d’.
“Reservation under Downing?” Nic said and was led to a table for two, nicely placed in a semi-private corner.
There was nobody there yet so Nic just ordered a glass of wine and settled in to wait. The date had been planned for 7pm and it was only two minutes past so she wasn’t very worried. Then two minutes became five, and five became fifteen and fifteen became twenty-five. The staff and other diners were giving her sympathetic looks and one guy at the bar, his cheeks red from whisky, looked like he was about to come over so Nic was seriously considering calling the night a bust and leaving.
“You must be Nicole, you started without me?”
Nic glanced up at the man who was sliding into the seat across from her, frowning at the empty wine glass on the table. Greg Downing was tall and broad shouldered with thick blond hair and big brown eyes. He was dressed in a suit that was very obviously designer and a heavy watch glinted on his wrist and he was looking at her like she was the one who’d been unforgivably rude.
“You must be Greg,” Nic said and let her gaze rake over him from head to toe. “And yes, I’ve…”
“I don’t know what Juliette told you,” Greg interrupted, “but I don’t date women who dress like harlots. Next time, wear something with a higher neckline.”
It was only Juliette’s promise of never setting her up again that kept Nic from getting up and leaving right then and there. Beckoning over a waiter, Greg proceeded to place their orders - getting Nic the prawn starter and the sea bass main. She was allergic to shell fish.
“Fish are high in omega-3,” Greg informed her. “Which means they’re excellent for brain development. Juliette told me you’re a police officer. I don’t imagine you get to use your brain much so it doesn’t hurt to make sure you eat correctly. Of course you’re going to have to quit your job.”
“Excuse me?” Nic blinked, taken aback.
“Well I don’t approve of women who work,” Greg informed her. “Even if I did, law enforcement is hardly a suitable profession. No, you will quit.”
“Well I don’t date men who show up a half hour late then proceed to order food that I’m allergic to,” Nic gathered her bag as she stood.
“I would say it’s been nice meeting you, Greg, but it really hasn’t.”
“Now hold on just one second,” Greg grabbed her wrist as she made to leave, his fingers tightening when she tried to tug out of his grip. “You can’t leave.”
“I’m pretty sure I can do whatever I want to,” Nic said. “Now let me go or I’ll charge you for assault on an officer.”
“I went to Harvard,” Greg scoffed. “I know at least three lawyers who can get past those charges in their sleep. Now sit back down Nicole. You’re making a scene.”
“Greg,” Nicole curved her lips into the sweetest smile she could muster and dropped her voice into an intimate whisper, “if you don’t let go of me this instant I will arrest you. Your lawyer buddies will get you out, but not before you spend a night in prison. Think of what a scene that will make.”
“You can’t arrest me,” Greg’s lips twisted into a smug smirk, “you’re off duty. No badge, no gun, no cuffs. Now ¬sit down, Nicole.”
Greg twisted her arm slightly and Nic had to fight not let the pain that shot through her show on her face. She struggled against his hold and, out of the corner of her eye, could see the staff sending concerned glances her way. Before they could intervene, however, Nic felt someone approach their table, stopping only when they were so close she could almost feel their clothes brush against her skin.
“Is there a problem here, Detective?”
Even without her title at the end Nic would have recognized Renard’s voice anywhere. Well, at least now that her boss had witnessed her embarrassment the evening could officially not get any worse.
“No sir,” when Nic spoke her voice was steady and betrayed none of her discomfort. “I was actually just leaving.”
“Who the hell is this?” Greg demanded.
“Greg, meet Captain Sean Renard. My boss. Captain this is Greg Downing, he works with Juliette.”
Renard merely inclined his head in greeting before turning his attention back to Nicole.
“Can I walk you to your car, Burkhardt?” Renard asked.
“Of course, Captain,” Nic’s smile was genuine and Greg could do nothing but scowl and Nic finally extracted her hand from his and left with Renard.
They were both silent as Nic collected her coat, folding it over her arm as she made the short walk to her car where she paused, uncertain as to what to say. Renard was looking at Nic with an intensity that left her off balance and, before she could disarm the tension between them with a smart quip or a joke, he lifted her wrist and held it up to better inspect it. The skin around the bones was red and swollen and Nic grimaced when Renard gently prodded the inflamed area.
“You should get ice on that as soon as possible,” Renard said. “My apartment isn’t far?”
“Oh, I don’t want to impose on your evening, sir,” Nic’s smile was more fragile than she knew. “I’ll ice it when I get home.”
“It’s no imposition, Nicole.” Renard said. “In fact, I insist.”
And with that he was ushering her toward his own car with a hand on her back. Renard’s car was long and sleek and the leather seats screamed masculinity as Nic slid into the passenger side. In the enclosed confines of the car, Renard’s cologne was a sharp and unmistakeable scent and Nic turned her head to look out the window as they drove so that Renard wouldn’t read too much from her expression.
It was just her luck that Renard had stumbled upon her in such an awkward situation but hopefully he would know better than to pry. The last thing in the world Nic wanted to talk to Renard about was her abysmal love life. Perceptive man that he was, Renard could tell that Nic wasn’t in the mood for conversation and so stayed silent as he parked the car and led her up to his apartment. It was only when he’d fished an ice-pack out of the freezer and held it to her wrist that he spoke.
“You know,” Renard’s voice was casual, but his eyes were sharp when he glanced at her, taking in the lines of strain on her face. “You could always telly Juliette ‘no’.”
“Oh I did,” Nic sighed and shifted slightly. “She means well though.”
“That may be but perhaps Juliette need to pay better attention to the people she sets you up with.”
Nic glanced up at that, drawing in a sharp breath when she realised that Renard had moved closer. His eyes, startlingly green at the best of times, were almost hypnotic up close and Nic had to remind herself to keep breathing. Her eyes dropped to his lips before she could help herself and Nic made herself look away, embarrassed at being so obvious.
“What I don’t understand,” Renard continued, “is how so many apparently intelligent men could miss something so obvious. You’re an amazing woman, Nicole and you deserve to be treated as such.”
Nic’s face flamed, blood rushing to her cheeks as her eyes flew up to meet Renard’s gaze once more. These are words she’d dreamed of hearing but had never allowed herself to ever hope to hear. Renard’s gaze was solid, completely serious and Nic’s heartbeat thundered in her ears. One moment she’d been fending off one of the vilest men she’d ever had the misfortune of meeting and the next she was in Renard’s apartment and he was talking to her like she was something to be desired, cherished even. How had the evening come to this?
“If you were mine,” Renard moved closer until his lips brushed against the skin near her ear when he talked, “you would want for nothing.”
Nic couldn’t help the short, soft moan that left her lips at that. She had no doubt that Renard would make an incredibly attentive and thoughtful lover and the idea of being the object of all that focus made her shiver. Her head tilted slightly, exposing her neck to him, unconsciously yielding, and when he took that as permission to mouth at the lines of her throat and jaw, the moan that left Nic’s lips was loud in the otherwise silent room.
Then he was pulling her to her feet and pressing her back against the kitchen counter, his lips moving over hers and his hands wrapping low around her waist, pulling their bodies flush together. Nic sighed into the kiss, hand moving to the nape of his neck and her back arched as she pressed herself closer. One of Renard’s hand moved the tangle in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss and the other slipped further down, shaping the curve of her ass, pressing her hips against his own.
Nic moaned into the kiss, threading her fingers through his hair, holding him to her. Her breasts were squashed against his chest, the hard muscles there evident even through the layers of his suit. He bit at her lip, tugging slightly on the lower one before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hands skimmed from her shoulder blades, down to her hips, then up to cup both breasts, thumbs rubbing her nipples through the thin material of her dress and making Nic arch into his touch.
“I want you, Nicole,” Renard confessed against her throat. “I’ve wanted you almost since I first saw you.”
That grabbed Nic’s attention.
“Really?” She asked, pulling away slightly to look at Renard.
“Yes,” Renard answered, meeting her gaze easily.
Some of Nic’s surprise must have shown in her face because Renard’s features softened with something akin to fondness and he lifted a hand to brush a stray lock of hair off her face.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” he said, “and how strong. This is not about you being a Grimm and I wesen. This is about ¬you, your intuition and perceptiveness, your courage and compassion, your intelligence. I’ve held back because at first you didn’t know about my wesen nature, then…well then I fucked up and I thought…I thought that I had messed up any chance I had of being with you.”
Renard was silent for a moment, his hand combing through her hair almost absent-mindedly and his confession was so unexpected to Nic that she could do nothing but wait for him to continue.
“For the umpteenth time,” Renard smiled, “you surprised me. Were I in your shoes I would not have been able to forgive my transgressions.”
Nic thought about that for a moment but then she met Renard’s gaze head on,
“We all make mistakes. You’ve been honest with me since then and all I ask is that you continue to do so as much as you can. I understand that there will be things that you can’t tell me, Sean, I just don’t want you to hide things unnecessarily.”
It was so characteristically Nic, to accept and understand with such ease that Renard was momentarily overwhelmed. He pulled her to him and claimed her mouth in a long, hard kiss.
“You are more than I deserve, Nicole, but I am selfish enough to still want to keep you.”
Something melted in Nic at this unexpected vulnerability in Renard and she reached back up for another kiss.
“Yes,” Nic eventually agreed and, vague though it was, Renard seemed to understand that she sway saying that she understood what he was asking and she was saying yes. She wanted to be his.
This time, when they kissed, Renard’s hands spanned her waist, large and possessive. Even in her heels, Nic felt tiny as he towered over her. Then he lifted her into his arms and made the short trip to his bedroom. She barely got a moment to glance around before Renard was kicking the door closed and pushing her up against it. His hands made quick work on the zipper of her dress and then he was pushing it off her shoulders. The material whispered against her skin the dress fell off her, pooling around her feet.
The cut of her dress wasn’t bra friendly and so Nic was left in just her briefs and high heels. The way Renard’s gaze darkened as it slid over her thought, left her feeling sexy and empowered rather than self-conscious and she tossed her head, letting her hair cascade down her back as he bent to mouth at her breasts. Renard’s fingers slipped into her panties, rubbing against her wet folds before slipping in and he grinned against her nipples when she swore.
“Already so wet?” Renard murmured into the valley between her breasts. “And so tight. You’re gonna be the goddamn death of me, Nicki.”
“Sean,” Nic breathed, low and needy as he crooked his finger at hit a spot that practically made her melt.
His hands were calloused and steady and confident as he finger-fucked her. He bit at her nipple as his thumb rubbed over her clit and Nic moaned, her hips moving and silently begging for more. Renard was determined to tease. He paused only briefly to tear her panties off her before thrusting three fingers into her pussy and causing a low, needy whine to escape Nic. He suckled one breast, squeezing the other with his free hand and rubbing his palm roughly over her nipple. His fingers set a furious pace, his thumb rubbing frantically over her clit and her hips moved of their own accord. Nic bit her lip, panting heavily as she fucked herself on his fingers and such was her need for Renard that it wasn’t long before Nic was coming, spilling her juices over his hand. Renard carried on working her through it and when she was done her lifted his hand to his lips and licked it clean.
Then Renard was kneeling and sliding his hands up her inner thighs. Her legs fell open instantly and he pressed wet, open mouthed kisses to the insides of her thighs. He bit down lightly on the soft flesh near her crotch then sucked at the same spot. Nic’s head thumped against the back of the door. Then Renard started to do the same to her other leg and by the time he finally licked at her cunt, Nic could do little more than let out a stream of needy, broken moans.
“Talk to me,” Renard encouraged, “tell me what you want, Nicki.”
He spread her open with one hand, teasing her with short, sharp strokes of his tongue and Nic couldn’t keep silent if she tried.
“Oh God,” Nic moaned when his tongue slid deeper and her walls automatically clenched around the muscle.
“Just like that. Oh! Fuck, yes!”
She wanted the weight of his dick in her mouth, wanted to feel him hit the back of her throat. She wanted to suck him until she choked then she wanted him to fuck her into oblivion so she said as much. Renard groaned at her words, the vibrations doing wonderful things to her already sensitive clit. He rubbed his thumb against the bundle of nerves and slipped two fingers into her along with his tongue and Nic was shouting as she came undone.
Renard moved away and Nic was about to complain until she saw that he was stripping off his clothes. His gaze kept her pinned in place and she should have felt vulnerable standing there in only her high heels, her legs spread and thighs wet with her own cum. Instead she could barely tear her eyes from Renard. She wanted to trace the tattoos on his chest with her tongue and mouth at his abs. She wanted to rake her nails down the muscles in his legs but most of all she wanted his thick cock and heavy balls to fill her up.
Renard was bigger than any man she had ever been with and he stretched her mouth uncomfortably at first. Soon, though, pre-cum and saliva had eased the passage and her eyes fluttered closed as she slid more of him into her mouth. Renard tangled his hand in her hair and held her still, fucking her mouth with thrusts that got steadily deeper. Nic hummed her appreciation and Renard swore when the vibrations travelled along his cock. He cupped her jaw with his free hand and slid forward until his balls rested against her jaw, stayed there for a moment, then pulled out completely. Then he did that again. And again. And again.
Nic swallowed around his cock, the tightening of her throat almost enough to force him to come and, since Renard was in no was ready to be done just yet, he pulled out and slipped his balls into her mouth. Nic glanced up, meeting his gaze as she sucked and holding it. Eventually Renard pulled free, tugging Nic up and into a kiss that was soft and messy and allowed Renard a moment to regain a little of his control.
He needed her too much to spend more time teasing though and Renard pushed Nic onto the bed, taking a moment to admire the way she looked, loose-limbed and wanton as her gaze drifted to his cock and her hips moved of their own volition - asking questions Nic apparently couldn’t find the voice for. And wasn’t that something? He’d fucked her speechless and he’d yet to even fuck her.
Renard climbed onto the bed and covering her body with his own and groaning as he slid into her. Nic was so wet that the entry was effortless but she was deliciously tight and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, taking him in even deeper.
“Yes,” Nic keened, high and needy as he filled her and Renard couldn’t help himself.
He started to fuck her with long, deep thrusts, enjoying the way the walls of her cunt gripped him when he pulled out. Incoherent sounds of encouragement tumbled from Nic’s mouth and she moved with him, eager and so mind-blowingly wanton. Later he was going to take her on every surface in the room but for now he had been waiting for this night for too long to spend time on games.
He picked up the pace until Nic could no longer keep up and she could nothing but lie back and let him take her. Renard buried his face in the junction between her neck and shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark and his hips moved, relentlessly driving his cock into her soaking cunt. His beast roared it’s pleasure at claiming this strong, beautiful woman and Renard shifted pulling her legs higher up around his waist so he could fuck her deeper.
Nic’s back arched, her head falling back and hair spilling across his pillows. He let go of her hands to grip her hips and hold her steady and the wet slap of his balls against her ass fuelled his desire. Renard lost control and woged, his cock swelling with the transformation and Nic screamed out her pleasure, eyes opening to see what had happened. Her breathing picked up when she drank in his wesen features, the juices flowing even more freely from her dripping cunt and something dark and heavy curled in Renard’s gut.
“Come on,” Renard urged, “come for me.”
He pinched her clit and she shattered. Nic’s wall tightened in a death grip, pulsing against his cock as she came for the third time that night and Renard carried on fucking her through it.
“You’re mine now, Nicki,” he growled and started to pull out to finish off since he wasn’t wearing a condom.
“Sean,” Nic’s voice was husky with sex and she wrapped her legs around his waist, the heels of her feet digging into the small of his back and keeping him in place.
“I want…on the pill…come inside me.”
Possessive approval shot through him and let the full force of his weight cover her, knowing her could take it, and Renard buried himself as deep as possible, biting down on her shoulder as he came. His orgasm seemed to last forever and his hips bucked, once, twice before stilling. Renard shifted slightly, moving onto his back and pulling Nic to lie over him.
She draped herself over him resting her head on his shoulder and tangling her legs with his own. Renard smiled at the silent reminder that this possession kink ran both ways and brushed the hair from her face leaning forward to kiss her, brief and soft. Nic hummed, her eyes opening a little and his smile softened. She was soft and satiated and warm against him so Renard settled back and wrapped his arms around her, something akin to contentment flowing through him.
Nic pressed a kiss to his shoulder and her breathing quickly evened out. She’d been run down and exhausted of late but she was his now and her burdens were his to share and, if Nic felt even half as strongly about him as he did her it was going to stay that way for the rest of their lives.