AN: This started as another piece for "Rumor Mill" and then ran away from me. Not sure if it wound up being what I had set out to make it even after that. You all get to benefit, as I'm bored on a Saturday night.

%%%%%%

"Hey, you guys. Checkout what just strolled into the department," Nick heard one of the guys from traffic say. He heard chairs shift as the guys obliged him and then a couple of murmurs and one whistle.

"Bet you she makes six figures," one of them said.

"She looking for someone? Looks like she needs some help. I suppose I can volunteer my services-"

"Nevermind. Pogue just intercepted her."

"Asshole."

"Like he stands a chance with a woman like that."

"Hey Burkhardt, you should check this out," one of them called.

"Give me a sec," Nick replied from where he was seated at the end of a long table in the conference room, making notes.

"Look at Pogue, chatting her up. If his wife could see him he'd be a dead man."

"Have you met his wife? Probably this is the only smile from a woman he'll receive all week."

Nick snorted in agreement.

"What are you morons doing?" Pogue asked a moment later when he opened the door.

"Watching you strike out," one replied gleefully. Pogue snorted.

"Please, I'm a happily married guy. Nick still in here?" he heard Pogue ask.

"Yeah, over there by the wall."

"Burkhardt!"

"Yeah?" Nick called, scribbling some notes in the margin of the document he was reading.

"There is a mighty fine-looking woman to see you."

"Blonde?" Nick asked.

"Yup."

"Blue-eyed?"

"Ocean blue. You could drown in them."

"Yeah, you could," Nick muttered to himself. "Okay, tell her I'll be right there," Nick called back.

"Affirmative," Pogue replied and disappeared.

Nick smiled as he registered the stunned silence, his back to the guys.

"No way," one of them said, and Nick's grin broadened before he quickly schooled his features and focused on his notes.

"Well, don't leave a beautiful woman waiting," Enzo, he thought, from Vice, admonished.

Nick heard the door open again.

"Hey guys, what are you all doing by the windows?" he heard Wu ask them and continued without waiting for an answer. "Hey Nick?"

"Yeah," Nick called, gathering his files.

"Ahh, there you are," Wu said, spotting him as he stood. "Adalind's looking for you."

"Yeah, Pogue told me. I'm coming," Nick said, gathering his papers and standing. He suppressed a smug look as he slipped past the guys, still gaping at him in wonder. He closed the door behind him, registering the herd shift as they all moved back to the windows in the conference room to watch.

"Hey," he said to Adalind when he spotted her looking, indeed, mighty fine in her standard four-inch stilettos, a cashmere sweater and a feminine skirt that showed off her shapely legs. Her blonde hair was loose over her shoulders, wavy curls fanning out from her face and she smiled brightly as she laid eyes on him.

"Hey yourself," she said, reaching up to plant a kiss on his cheek. He heard the guys groan from their vantage point in the conference room, thanks to his enhanced hearing, and bit down another smile.

"What?" Adalind asked him, noticing his look. Nick shook his head.

"What's up?" he asked instead, wondering at her visit. Usually when she popped in it was because they had a standing appointment for lunch, or maybe even dinner, or she was stopping by with Kelly to visit for a moment, though now that he had been enrolled in daycare that occurred less frequently.

"Question for you," she said, sliding her hand down the buttons of Nick's shirt. He distantly registered more groans and sighs of disappointment but he was too busy getting his guard up to enjoy it. She was about to try and sucker him into something. No wonder she looked especially good today.

"Yes?" he replied guardedly. She fluttered her eyelashes as she looked down at his shirt front, watching as her hand picked at a miniscule piece of lint on Nick's shirt before glancing back at him with big, wide, blue eyes and Nick got lost in them before he could remind himself that was her whole idea.

"What would you think if I volunteered us to help out Valencia's fundraiser for Kelly's daycare?" she asked him, sliding her arms around Nick's waist and looking at him with a bright smile.

"I would hate it," Nick replied, gathering his wits and his pride. Thanks to his Grimm hearing, he could still hear the guys on the other side of the room as they watched them, including a comment or two about looking at her with a dopey expression.

Nick moved back, trying to disengage from Adalind's embrace and wipe any traces of a said dopey expression off his face.

"A fundraiser?" he asked Adalind, getting back to the matter at hand. "Why the hell do they need a fundraiser? It costs a fortune for anyone to go there. What funds do they need to raise?"

"I'm not sure," Adalind said dismissively. "I think they do have a scholarship for underprivileged children to attend, actually," she said, momentarily distracted. Nick used the opportunity to put a little distance between them, having found it harder to say no to Adalind when she looked and smelled good and was staring up at him with doe eyes, arms wrapped around him.

"Anyway, Valencia asked if we would help and I said I had to get with you to find out what your schedule looked like."

"My schedule looks full," Nick replied and Adalind fixed him with a look.

"You haven't even heard the dates, yet."

"Doesn't matter. I'm sure I'm busy, and if I'm not I will be."

"Honestly, Nick," she began, eyes bright and wide, but Nick cut her off.

"Honestly, Adalind," he retorted. "After the last fundraiser you volunteered me for I'm not sure how you thought I would ever entertain the idea of another one."

"I said I would ask," she pointed out stiffly.

"Thank you," he acknowledged. "The answer's no," he added, taking a seat at his desk and leaning back in his chair as she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted prettily. He registered more appreciative sighs from the conference room beyond, and a couple of ribald remarks.

"Nick," she said after a moment of chewing her lip and Nick narrowed his eyes, having recognized the fact she was trying a different tack.

"No," he said flatly before she got started. She huffed a sigh.

"Well, at least tell me why," she said and Nick stared at her incredulously.

"Why? Why?" he asked, his voice getting louder. "Uh, how about the fact I was practically bought and sold like chattel," Nick said.

"You were not bought and sold like chattel. The bids were like votes. They voted you fifth hottest civil servant, which frankly I find ridiculous. You were easily a top three vote."

"Thanks," Nick said dryly.

"Anyway, you won't be bid on," Adalind said, "this isn't an auction."

"Then there's the whole questionnaire thing," Nick said, "That I still hear about," he added, thinking of some of his coworkers' smug remarks. And suspects' and a handful of witnesses'.

"There's no questionnaire, or background check, or interview process," Adalind replied. "It's a very simple fundraiser."

"And then that stupid calendar," Nick added, not persuaded in the least.

"That…I'm not going to even apologize for that, you looked hot," Adalind replied stubbornly. "All handsome, and masculine, and sexy as hell…it makes me hot," she whispered, eyeing him with sultry eyes, drifting closer, making parts of Nick tingle with anticipation, and Nick crossed his arms over his chest and told himself to be firm in his resolve.

"I know what you're doing," he said and caught a hint of a smile before she could hide it.

"Finding you hard to resist?" she asked him and he pressed his lips together firmly and remained stoic.

"No, trying to sucker me into going along with this."

"You're really going to let me leave here disappointed?" she asked him, the pouty lips making a comeback. More moans and groans from the vicinity of the conference room.

"You can leave here however you want. I'm not participating in another fundraiser."

"What are Kelly and the other children supposed to do if we don't help them?"

"I'm sure they'll manage somehow in their state of the art, private and obscenely funded, daycare center."

"Think of the children, Nick," Adalind said, and Nick rolled his eyes.

"Really? That's the best you can do," Nick said.

"Well, you're not giving me much to work with here," Adalind replied, dropping all pretense of seduction or persuasion.

"Good," Nick said. "It's always nice to see you, thanks for stopping by, you can be on your way."

"Fine," Adalind said.

"Fine," Nick replied, gathering up his notes.

"I'll just be going I guess. You've got a long night, I can see," she said, sniffing, and Nick glanced up at her questioningly. "What with the cold, lonely guest room in your future," she added and Nick snorted. "Days, perhaps. Weeks even," she said.

"You're exiling me to the guest room?" Nick said incredulously. "Because I won't participate in this stupid fundraiser?"

"Hardly, because I'm involved with a man who would rather make innocent children suffer and see me unhappy than help out for one fundraiser. I can hardly bear the sight of you," she added dramatically and Nick rolled his eyes again.

"What about my suffering?" Nick retorted. "You know what? Fine. We'll see how long that lasts," Nick said.

"Fine."

"And let me remind you you're the one who can't fall asleep without me lying there beside you, so I guess get ready for some long, restless nights if you decide to go through with this."

"That was when we first moved in, and I was scared what might happen. I'll be more than able to sleep soundly now, so we'll see who cracks first," Adalind said haughtily.

"Won't be me," Nick replied.

"We'll see," she said, gathering her things.

"Goodbye."

"Bye."

%%%%%

After getting called out to a murder forty-five minutes before quitting time, Nick arrived home late, going on midnight when he threw up the gate to the elevator. He was exhausted and looking forward to a warm shower and hitting the sack.

He grabbed a drink out of the fridge and then strode through the living area on his way to the bedroom before he tripped over something—probably one of Kelly's toys—and lost his balance.

"Son of a—" Nick muttered, annoyed, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He registered a couple of blankets and a pillow on the floor next to the couch, and what appeared to be a note pinned to the coverings. He flipped on the lamp beside him and read it.

In case you get cold. Next to the blankets, on the ground was one of Kelly's stuffed animals, and Nick picked it up and discovered another note pinned to it. In case you get lonely. Nick clenched his jaw and sighed. Right. The stupid fundraiser. The gauntlet thrown. Well, he wasn't going to crack first. He sighed again and picked up the blankets and stomped up the stairs to the guest room.

He made sure to make as much noise as possible without waking Kelly as he was retrieving his clothes from the bureau in their room ten minutes later. Adalind made a show of sighing and stretching luxuriously before rolling on her side, her back to him.

She's utterly unbelievable, he thought, two hours later. All this for some stupid fundraiser for a place that takes in over twenty grand a year per kid. What the hell could they possibly need there that wasn't included in the obscene cost of tuition? Tuition. The children were all pre-kindergarten. They nap and play all day, and occasionally sing a song about their ABCs. He shifted uncomfortably on the mattress, the blanket scratchy and unfamiliar, and wondered how he ever slept on this bed.

Recollected suddenly that he never had. Adalind had asked him to stay with her the first night they moved to the loft, and he had slept beside her every day since. Incredible that it had been eighteen months ago. Like everything else in his life, it felt both longer and shorter than that. Five hundred days sharing a bed with the most infuriating woman he'd ever met. He shifted restlessly, and punched his pillow. It didn't seem right, either.

Why ruin a perfect record? He hadn't missed a night sleeping next to her, why start now? She wasn't honestly going to deny him their bed, was she?

He got up and slipped down the stairs silently, pausing at the sliding doors to look at her. Adalind was still curled on her side, facing his side of the bed this time, one hand tucked under her pillow. Her blonde hair fell in messy waves over it, the blankets moving with the slow and steady rise and fall of her breaths. He tiptoed over to the bed, gently pulling back the covers.

"Does this mean you're giving up already?" she asked, and Nick halted, glancing down at her. She stared up at him, a supercilious smile spreading across her face. "You didn't even last the night," she said, a touch disappointed.

"I'm not giving up. This is my bed," Nick retorted.

"No, this is my bed, I've just been very nice in sharing it with you these last eighteen months or so."

"You begged me to share it with you," Nick replied, settling onto the mattress. "And you know what, this is my loft. I've just been very nice in sharing it with you these last eighteen months." Adalind's teeth gleamed in the darkness.

"You're more than welcome to share the bed with me, so long as it's with the understanding that by doing so you're agreeing to help out with the fundraiser."

"I'm not agreeing to anything," Nick retorted. "May I remind you what you're suggesting is extortion, too," he added, and he saw Adalind smile again.

"More like bringing a Grimm to his knees. I'm pretty good at it, too."

Given their history, he couldn't disagree. Still, Nick snorted derisively. "Little bit of overkill for a fundraiser, isn't it?"

"Let's just say I'm going to enjoy this," Adalind said, and Nick turned to look at her.

"You honestly think you're going to win?" he asked her.

"I know I am," she replied with a smile and Nick narrowed his eyes, wondering at her confidence. He settled the blankets around him and relaxed back into his pillow.

"See, I've already won. You're here aren't you?" she said in the darkness. "I'll tell Valencia you couldn't wait to help out."

It was silent in their room for several beats before it was disrupted by a loud, disgusted sigh as Nick threw the covers off of him. He muttered something that didn't bear repeating before yanking the pillow out from under Adalind's head.

"Hey!" she cried, still halfway laughing, and Nick threw it on the ground and stomped out of their bedroom and made his way back upstairs.

%%%%%

The next morning, he was dressed and eating breakfast with Kelly when Adalind finally stirred. She looked tired, like she hadn't slept anywhere near as well as she claimed she would, but Nick didn't offer any sympathy.

Nick hadn't slept well either, equal parts due to the unfamiliar stiffness of the mattress and the thoughts rattling around in his head as he silently fumed over his predicament.

A fundraiser, he thought. Ridiculous. Kelly twisted in his high chair to follow his mother's path to the refrigerator, a wide smile on his face, and a bright exclamation of recognition. Nick's expression was less welcoming.

"Morning," she said cautiously, trying to gauge his mood, once she had poured herself a cup of coffee and approached the table.

Nick raised his eyebrows and turned back to his cereal. "Morning," he returned coolly, watching Kelly stick his whole hand in his breakfast as he braced himself against the food tray on his highchair to continue to watch his mother. Adalind smiled at their son, smoothed a hand over his soft brown hair, and placed a kiss on the top of his head. Kelly grinned and went back to his food and Nick uncharitably thought, traitor! Nick eyed Adalind warily as she approached him.

She nonchalantly ambled around and swiftly bent down to place a kiss on his cheek. Nick slid his eyes to her face and glowered.

"I'm still pissed," Nick said and Adalind twisted her lips and took a seat beside him at the table.

"About what?" she asked innocently. "Didn't you sleep well?" she asked, and Nick narrowed his eyes in a glare.

"No," he said shortly. "Didn't you?" he added bitingly with a pointed look at her appearance. She narrowed her eyes in challenge, one hand smoothing down her hair.

"I had the whole bed to myself, it was wonderful to stretch out," she replied conversationally. "Not to have to fight over my own pillow," she added, referring to Nick's penchant of crowding her out in that respect.

"Lucky you," he said flatly. "This is stupid," he added. "You honestly think you're going to strong arm me into helping with this fundraiser by holding our bed hostage until I do what you want?"

"Pretty much," Adalind said, taking a sip of her drink.

"What is so special about this fundraiser?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the fact you care so much."

"Why wouldn't I care about the school where our son goes to?"

"It's a daycare."

"It's sort of like a preschool," Adalind argued.

"The hell it is. I pay an obscene amount of money for him to basically nap in style when he's not at home here."

"You pay a heavily discounted rate, actually. Successfully negotiated by me," and Nick gave her a don't kid me look. "And I pay some of that, too," she retorted. "And Kelly loves that place, don't you Kell-bell?" Adalind cooed and Kelly obliged her with a bashful smile.

"Is it because of Valencia?" he asked her suspiciously.

"What? No! Why would you say that?"

"Because ever since we met them at the interview, there's been some sort of weird competition between you two," Nick said. "You're always trying to prove we belong with that crowd, and that you can keep up with the Joneses, and one-up her and somehow, though I'm not quite sure why, that always means I get suckered into the middle of it."

"Please, that's ridiculous. This is about Kelly and helping out at his daycare," Adalind scoffed, shaking her head but she chose to focus her eyes on something else while he stared at her in frank disbelief.

"Right," Nick said dryly, knowing he was on to something.

"I'm giving it a couple of weeks," Adalind said, getting back to the matter at hand, and Nick looked at her, insulted, as she clarified, "before you give in."

"Please, I can hold out twice that long," Nick replied. "Easily."

"You won't last a month," Adalind said definitively. "Honestly, I think two weeks is ambitious for you," she added and Nick leaned back in his chair, eyebrow raised.

"Really?" he asked, "Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. You honestly think I can't sleep in the guest bedroom for a month if it means I don't have to participate in whatever fundraiser Valencia has concocted this time? Keep dreaming. Knowing that's what's at stake, I'll sleep like a baby. You on the other hand—" he waved a finger at her, "you might want to stock up on concealer." Adalind's fingers went to her face, and the dark circles under her eyes, and she glared at Nick when he grinned. "I think you're going to find it pretty rough sleeping alone."

"You're more than welcome to your side of the bed," Adalind began.

"Ha! See," he said smugly. "Missed me already, did you? You didn't even last twenty-four hours."

"But don't expect me to warm it, or you, any time in the next month. Maybe longer," she retorted.

"What?" he exclaimed.

"Unless, of course, you'd like to help out with the fundraiser," she added sweetly. "I do love a man who'll do anything for children. Philanthropy is so sexy, is it not?"

"I do plenty for children, I'm a cop, remember? You're actually going to withhold sex with me to make me do what you want?"

"I'm not withholding anything," Adalind said haughtily, and he narrowed his eyes incredulously. "You want to have sex with me you know what to do to put me in a romantic mood."

Nick scoffed.

"Fine, if that's how you want it, so be it. You're only making yourself suffer. When I win, let me just say there won't be any participation from me for this or any other fundraiser, so don't expect me to help."

"We'll see about that."

%%%%%

"What's got you in a mood?" Hank asked after a long thick silence. They were staking out a suspect's place of residence, a dilapidated looking structure in a portion of Portland yet to see some urban renewal. They'd been sitting for almost an hour, sipping coffee and running over everything they knew in the case so far, or at least Hank had been—Nick's only contribution some grunts of acknowledgement—before Hank had finally broached the subject of his partner's attitude.

"Nothing," Nick replied shortly.

"Uh-huh," Hank said disbelievingly.

"Adalind," Nick said after a long moment.

"I figured that. Nobody else upsets you like she does."

That was true.

She had a long history of getting to Nick, and it hadn't gone by the wayside in the year where they had become romantically involved.

"What'd she do this time?" Hank asked with a sigh, as though resigning himself to the fact he was trapped in the car with Nick and hearing about. Nick didn't say anything at first, choosing his response. They talked infrequently about Nick's relationship with Adalind, usually just minor mentions of things, and rarely touched on anything remotely related to the sexual aspect. Given the fact Adalind had seduced Hank at one point, it was a touchy subject for all parties involved, most of which didn't want to relive any memory of it, especially Nick who didn't like to be reminded that Hank could knowledgably weigh in on the subject of Adalind's intimate parts if he wanted to.

"She's trying to get me to participate in some stupid fundraiser at Kelly's daycare," Nick said.

"Isn't that like some exclusive, private, daycare? What do they need to raise money for?"

"You got me," Nick snorted.

"Is it another charity auction?"

"No, I don't think so, at least Adalind claims it isn't. Something for the school, I think."

"You're not interested in helping your son's school?"

"When do I have time?" Nick retorted, and Hank tilted his head, conceding the point. "Besides, it's not that. It's just—Valencia is spearheading the event, and Adalind always feels like she has some point to prove with her—like she belongs—so it's always like some kind of competition between Adalind and her and I'm not sure why that means I get sucked up into it, except I have the misfortune of having a child with Adalind who goes to the same daycare."

"So tell her no," Hank said, turning away from Nick to watch the suspect's building. He took a sip of coffee.

"I did," Nick said.

"Problem solved."

"Not exactly. She's…holding it against me."

"She's mad you won't participate? Then participate," Hank said. "It can't be any worse than the charity auction."

"You would think," Nick said. "It should be enough that I don't want to do it," Nick said, "and that I told her I don't want to do it, but yet somehow she still argues the point with me like she can convince me it's a good idea."

"She's a lawyer, it's kind of what they do."

"Well, that didn't work," Nick said heatedly, getting into his side of it. "So now she thinks she can manipulate me into doing what she wants by withholding sex until I give in."

He hadn't actually meant to get into that aspect of it. Hank looked at him as though wishing he had let Nick stew in silence, and Nick offered an apologetic frown.

"Sorry," Nick said, and returned to his diatribe. "Like I'm so weak I can't go without sex with her for a little while."

Hank pulled his eyes away from Nick and shrugged.

"She knows you well."

"Wait? What?"

"This is just a waiting game, now, for her. What are we talking? A couple of weeks? You're going to fold like a bad hand of cards."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, partner. I can last two weeks, thank you, that's not even hard. All I have to do is out wait her for a month, and I'm never going to have to hear the name Valencia and fundraiser in the same sentence ever again."

"You told her a month?" Hank asked. "Great, so now we all have to suffer," he muttered and Nick turned to him and glared.

"I'm sorry, but how are you suffering in all this?"

"Because I'm listening to you talk about it, for one. Because instead of maybe two weeks, like I had thought, now I may have to deal with your sex-deprived, moody ass for possibly a month. You know how you get when it's been a while," Hank added.

"No," Nick said, annoyed. "How do I get?"

"Moody," he restated, and Nick rolled his eyes. "Jesus, the reports I'm going to have to fill out," Hank muttered, and Nick quirked an eyebrow in silent question. "That time you and Juliette broke up?" Hank shook his head.

"Well, I wouldn't sharpen your pencil just yet, according to you I won't last the month anyway."

"That's true. You think you can go a whole month? Really? Two weeks is ambitious for you with her," Hank said, and Nick turned to glare at him again. "I would have just said two weeks. I mean a month you're really just punishing yourself at that point. And me," he added.

"I can go four weeks without sex," Nick said. "Work, and Kelly, and the uprising, it will fly by."

"It's flying by now, isn't it," Hank agreed sarcastically. "You're not thinking about sex at all right now, are you?"

"Shut up," Nick muttered. They were both silent, taking a moment to refocus on their jobs and the place they were watching.

"What day is it?"

"It's Thursday," Nick said.

"No, in the moratorium on sex? How many days has it been so far?" Nick fidgeted in his seat, and took an interest in the stitching on his coat sleeve as he stalled the answer with another sip of coffee.

"Two," Nick admitted.

"God, I'm not going to last two weeks," Hank said in disgust, looking up at the ceiling of the car. "Forget about a month."

"You forget that I've outmaneuvered Adalind many times before. This isn't going to be as difficult as you might think."

"She's a woman who knows how to use her feminine wiles to maximum effect. May I remind you I speak from experience."

"Do not, do not remind me. You can never speak of that again. Ever." Nick said holding a finger out at Hank, closing his eyes as though to block the sound. Definitely the sight of Hank grinning at Nick's discomfort.

"I'm just saying—"

"Don't! Don't just say it. I am with her now, I've had a baby with her. That—that's like that never happened."

"Oh, it happened," Hank said. "I almost died from it, remember?"

"I remember," Nick said, sobering, and Hank did too. It was quiet in the car as the two reflected on different aspects of the past, and the present.

"Anyway," Hank said after another moment of silence, "I think you're overly confident in the face of what she can do if she puts her mind to it."

%%%%%

Nick came home from a fruitless day spent in the car with Hank waiting on their suspect to show, to his son taking a nap and Adalind preparing to take a bath. He tossed his keys on the table near the entry and unclipped his badge and set it beside them.

He flipped through the mail on the counter as Adalind paused, clad only in a towel, her change of clothes clutched in her hand and changed course to come to stand in front of him.

"Rough day?" she asked, and Nick flashed an irritated look at her, the conversation with Hank still fresh in his mind. "I'm glad you're home," she offered, bouncing up on her toes to kiss him, and Nick jerked his head away before she connected.

"Kissing's allowed," she said, and he wondered why she got to make all the rules. "It's okay to kiss the person you love when they're home safe and sound, especially from dangerous police work," she added. She hesitantly reached up again, and Nick (grudgingly) allowed her the kiss.

"Not okay to sleep with them, though, if they don't do what you want," Nick added sarcastically and Adalind rolled her eyes.

"I told you, you're welcome to our bed. Just…stick to your side of it," Adalind said and Nick gave her a dark look and dropped the mail on the counter. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and twisted the cap off.

"Oh? Now it's my bed, too?" he asked in mock surprise. He shook his head. "Kelly asleep already?"

"Yeah, he was fussy all day, Felicia said. I think he might be coming down with another cold," and Nick snorted and sighed. Great, a sick Kelly was a cranky as shit Kelly.

"He'll be in a mood," Nick said.

"Mm," Adalind replied noncommittally, looking at Nick pointedly.

"If I'm in a mood, it's because of you," Nick retorted, taking a sip of his beer.

"I'm sure," Adalind agreed smoothly. "Do you need to use the bathroom before I get in there?"

"No," Nick said, taking another pull from his beer.

"Okay," she replied, "I'm going to take a nice long bath and relax." She popped back up on her toes and kissed Nick again, soundly, with a lot of mouth, and tongue, and hands, and by the time she pulled away, Nick had one hand firmly gripping her ass and the other around her side, holding her towel. She let Nick hang onto it as she stepped out of it and smiled at him.

"You try to do the same."

%%%%%

After another four nights voluntarily spent in the guest room on what Nick had by then determined was the shittiest mattress in Portland, a security breach resulted in Nick's graceful reclamation of their room and his side of their bed. The perimeter alarm going off had unsettled both Adalind and Nick, who had been upstairs and suddenly aware of the distance between him and his family's immediate safety. After determining it had only been a feral cat jumping on one of the dumpsters and setting off the motion detector, it was mutually and silently agreed that their idiotic fight over the fundraiser wasn't worth risking their family's security, had that been a real threat, and so Nick had slid under the soft, cool sheets beside Adalind and promptly fell in a deep, restful sleep.

When he awoke, Adalind was already up and preparing for the day, hair curled and loose, pulled away from her face and secured with a couple of bobby pins. She looked like he wasn't the only one who had slept better, and Nick watched her put together her outfit for the day as she stood in front of the mirror, dressed in black hose and her bathrobe as she pondered which dress to wear to work. She caught sight of his reflection and she turned to him with a soft smile.

"Big meeting with a potential client. Which do you like? This one, you think?" she held a black dress with an asymmetrical collar and a slightly flared skirt against her body. Nick yawned and sat up, twisting to put his feet on the cold, wood floor, and shrugged.

"Looks nice," he said, scrubbing his face with his hands and breathing deeply through his nose as he rubbed his eyes and tried to wake up. When he opened them Adalind had taken off the robe and was dressed in a black and cream-colored lacy bra, breasts nearly spilling out, matching underwear, and garters. Nick stared uncomprehendingly with his eyes, as the rest of his body comprehended enthusiastically the sight before him and shot to awake.

It took a while, but his mind finally caught up to what she was doing and Nick swallowed the disappointment that he wasn't going to get to enjoy this at all this morning, and nonchalantly grabbed his pillow and pulled it over his lap.

"Really?" he asked, voice a tad higher than normal. Likely due to still waking up, of course.

"What? You don't like them?" she asked him, as though just noticing where his attention had been occupied, not hiding the smile playing on her lips fast enough to be convincingly innocent. He pulled his eyes (very) reluctantly away from her considerable, beautiful, and sexily attired assets and gave her a knowing look.

"I'm not that easy," he replied, and silently he wished today he was.

"I needed some new lingerie," she said, and Nick yanked his eyes from her body, where they had slid back down, and back up to her face, "and would you believe they were having a sale?"

"No," Nick said flatly. She grinned.

"I got this in the black and white lace and a green and black lace. I wasn't sure which color you would like. I can put the other ones on so you can compare," she offered, hurrying to her bureau where she kept all sorts of delectable under garments that Nick had rarely seen.

"That's okay!" Nick said. "I'm good. I don't need to see them," but she had already pulled them out and Nick had a moment where he thought he might actually pass out. The green and black would look absolutely incredible on her, her blonde hair and lightly tan skin, and Nick stared at the scraps of fabric she held and tightened his grip on his pillow over him.

"I'm good. I should really get ready for work," he said, after a moment to clear his throat but didn't dare stand up.

"Of course, if you're sure? It will just take a sec," she offered, reaching around with her other hand as though to unhook her bra, and he mutely shook his head furiously and pulled his eyes away from the garments.

"Okay," she said, and Nick took a deep breath to calm himself and glared at her.

"I guess I better finish getting dressed," she said and he gave her a flinty stare and nodded. "Shower's all yours if you need it," she added turning away from him, a hint of laughter in her voice.

%%%%%

At some point in this whole irritating exercise, Nick realized that Adalind was enjoying this. She teased, and flirted, and tried to seduce him, and openly enjoyed his irritation and discomfiture and one day Nick thought, two can play this game.

Periodically when he was frustrated with work (or life) he worked on finding out where the tunnel led to, which meant traipsing down the shaft, laden with tools and equipment, sweaty and dirty, two things Nick had discovered Adalind wasn't as repulsed by as she had previously let on. After week one in the battle of wills came and went with both sides still unsatisfied, he decided to spend some quality time scoping it out again since it seemed, suddenly, he had nothing but time now that he was no longer having sex.

He came out of the tunnel, sans shirt, sweat and dirt clinging to his chest and Adalind did a double take and stopped to take in the sight. Her eyes flitted hungrily over his biceps, his sculpted torso, lingering on his abdomen, before they followed the thin line of hair from his stomach to where it disappeared below the waistband of his jeans. Nick smirked and she caught his look and took a drink from her bottled water nonchalantly.

"Figure out where it goes," she asked, moving away from him and back to her makeshift desk on the weekends, their dining table.

"Not yet. Mapped it out a little bit farther," Nick said, not above a little posing and preening against the backlight of the fridge as he fished out his own refreshment. He looked up and Adalind quickly looked back down at her papers spread out and Nick suppressed a grin.

"Big case?" he asked.

"Mm-hmm," she said, staring down hard at her documents. Nick sauntered over behind her. He leaned over her, and placed one muscled arm on the table as he peered down at the contracts.

"Merger?" he asked, as he registered some of the legalese. He sucked in his stomach a little, as he twisted to look at her. She pulled her eyes from his chest and looked at the contracts in question.

"Uh-huh," she said. "I've got to have them ready to file in court next week. Just putting the finishing touches on everything," she said, flicking her eyes at his abdomen and then pulling them quickly away. Nick suppressed another smile.

"Where's Kelly?" Nick asked, registering the quiet and Adalind pointed to the other side of the table, where his son lay on his back on a blanket on the floor, awake, but content to chew on his giraffe. He looked like he was in deep thought and Nick wondered what thoughts an eighteen month old entertained to occupy him so. Then grimaced when he thought he was probably getting ready to fill his diaper to maximum capacity.

"You worried?" he asked her, indicating her case. "You seem tense," he added, running his hands over her shoulders and kneading the muscle there. She loved a massage, and Nick worked her neck, and shoulders and upper back handily, Adalind slowly relaxing deeper into his touch.

"You smell nice," Nick said, hovering closely near her neck, breathing her in, and Adalind stiffened. "New perfume?"

"Oh, yes," she said. "What you got me for my birthday, actually."

"It's nice," Nick said huskily, and leaned against the dining table in front of her, arms folded across his chest, still glistening with sweat and she looked at him—or looked at his waist, before her eyes slowly, as though she didn't want to rush it, moved up, over his abdomen and the hair on his chest to his face. He didn't bother to hide his grin this time, and she narrowed her eyes in response.

"You need a shower," she said primly, as though she wasn't affected.

"Do I?" he made a show of looking at his arms, flexing the muscle there and she gave him a disbelieving look at his gall and crossed her own arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. "I guess so," he said after taking inventory and a few more stage moves he learned from who knows where. Adalind pursed her lips and Nick smiled widely at her effort to hide her amusement, and more importantly, her attraction as she still seemed to be having a hard time focusing on his face.

"Like what you see?" he asked, and she raised her eyes finally to his, unimpressed.

"The dirt and the grime?" she asked him.

"Oh, you like the dirt. I know for a fact how dirty you like it," he added seductively and leaned in to kiss her, and the tension exploded between them. She opened her mouth and he deepened it immediately. He smiled against her lips when he felt her hand ghost over his stomach, tracing the muscle there, lingering at his waist and the button of his jeans, before she pulled away abruptly.

"Nice try," she said a bit breathlessly, and Nick raised his eyebrows in polite question to cover his disappointment.

"I guess I'll just go take a shower. Suds up and wash all this dirt and grime off me," he said.

"You do that," she said with a measured breath, avoiding his eyes, and his body, for that matter.

"You're welcome to join me-make sure I get every nook and cranny clean," he added hopefully. She stared down at the table and shook her head.

Needless to say the shower he took was another cold one.

%%%%%

Fine, he could admit, he was enjoying it sometimes, too. It was sort of fun, and there seemed to be some unspoken, shared thought that when the four weeks was up, the resulting sexual explosion the two would experience when Nick claimed his victory as well as his long-denied prize would be well worth it. By the time he was through with her, he might be barely conscious and unable to move, and the thought sent his groin buzzing, his mind filling with all the sexy scenarios and possibilities. So it seemed logical to keep building the suspense, the tension, and the anticipation between them.

%%%%%

Adalind strolled in, wearing a white printed sundress that flared at the waist, with a square neck and a lot of cleavage showing. Nick, as well as half the department, stared at the admittedly great view of the rounded tops of her breasts, straining against the form fitting bodice. She smiled distractedly at the other officers who openly checked her—and her breasts—out before coming to stand in front of Nick, so close he had nowhere to look but down her dress.

Okay, he could have looked at her face—he meant to look at her face—but, damn. Her breasts were fabulous; he wasn't actually sure when he had seen them look so good. Smooth and tan, firm, yet soft. How they looked reminded him of how they felt, and he dragged his eyes back to hers when he remembered they were in public and not at home where he could openly ogle her figure for as long and as obscenely as he wanted.

Adalind smirked, knowing exactly along what track his thoughts lied, and he narrowed his eyes as the realization hit that this spectacle was for him.

"Morning," she said brightly, eyes dancing, and Nick narrowed his further and brought his coffee cup to his lips, affecting a disinterested look, the mug coming between them and forcing her to inch back slightly. He raised his eyebrows in response.

"Wow, Adalind, you look nice," Pogue said from his desk somewhere to the side of him, and Adalind smiled again at Nick before turning her attention to Pogue to reply.

"Thank you, that's very nice of you to say" she said. "I needed a new dress and decided to splurge a little on myself," she added, turning her attention back to Nick.

I bet you did, Nick thought.

"Whoa, who's the babe? Adalind!" Gibson said, when he recognized her. "You look hot," he added coming to stand beside Pogue and amending his statement when he noticed Nick and his glare. "I mean, very lovely. What's the occasion?"

Getting my blood up, Nick retorted silently.

"You guys are so sweet," Adalind said with an amused smile and Nick transferred his glare to her for encouraging them. Over the year and a half they had been living together she had somehow managed to secure the good opinion of most of the guys Nick worked with, no small feat considering some of the remarks they had had about her. Apparently looks and charm could go a long way in forgetting that she was essentially labeled his mistress, among other less kindly epithets. Strangely, it might have helped, too, what happened to her with Louis. "I'm actually accompanying my son on a field trip to the science center today," she told them, looking at Nick, and Nick pointedly glanced down at the open neck of her dress. She smiled wider knowing what he was insinuating, "and I realized I left the cardigan that goes with this in your truck," she told Nick and Nick frowned suspiciously.

"I don't have a sweater in my car," Nick told her.

"I'm sure you do. I looked everywhere for it, and your car is the last place I remember wearing it," she told him and the guys all hmmm'd and uh-huh'd suggestively.

"Really?" Pike said. "Burkhardt I didn't know you had it in you," he heard and Nick turned his head to the guys to give them a look. He turned back to her.

"I don't even remember you wearing a cardigan when you were in my truck last."

She had the nerve to wink suggestively at the guys and they all grinned and snickered and gave him more disbelieving sounds.

"Damn Burkhardt, maybe you should slow down when you're alone with her, and take your time. I'm sure she'd at least like to enjoy it a little. It's not a race," he thought he heard one of them say, thanks to the gift that kept on giving that was his Grimm hearing, and some more snickering at the bawdy remark.

"Anyway, maybe you could look?" she asked, focusing her attention back on Nick, pleadingly, eyes wide, and blue, and innocent and Nick gave her another squinty eyed look and shook his head at her audacity. He took another sip of coffee and fished his keys out of his pocket and shook them at her.

"Here you go," he said. She pouted prettily again, looking down at his desk, lips pursing, and Nick noted distractedly her lipstick matched one of the colors in her dress. "Feel free to look, but I'm telling you, I don't have a sweater in there." She eyed him thoughtfully, calculating her next move, and Nick raised his eyebrows patiently.

"Walk me out?" Adalind asked Nick, tilting her head becomingly, and Nick smirked and took a seat at his desk.

"The elevators are that way," he said, pointing. "Make a right and then a left, then press the button for the level 1 parking garage."

"I'll walk you out," Gibson offered from his perch by his desk, and the jerk even held out his arm.

"I don't know where you're parked," she added to Nick, ignoring Gibson and the others and looking for all the world like they very picture of some helpless, needy, damsel in distress.

"Where I usually park, in my assigned parking space," he replied, knowing she knew exactly where that was.

"I'm sorry, I forget," another chagrinned look. "Where is that?" she said, tilting her blonde head the other way apologetically in confusion.

"I'll help you look," Pike added, a slightly suggestive leer, and Adalind flashed her eyes distractedly in his direction affecting a grateful smile, and looked back at Nick, waiting. He was half-tempted let her to deal with Pike, or Gibson, as punishment for this little stunt.

He rolled his head to glare again at the guys, registering more stifled laughs from around the room, then back to Adalind and sighed loudly as he set his coffee down on the desk in front of him. "Fine. Let's get this over with," he muttered and Adalind smiled gratefully at him. He stalked towards the corridor, turning impatiently for her to follow and she flashed another friendly smile at the guys.

"Thanks guys for the offer, but I'm sure with Nick's help, I'll find it," she told them.

"Hey, we've got a robbery we need to check out," Hank said blowing past Nick with a plate of donuts stolen from the guys in vice.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," he called to Hank, eyeing the plate hungrily, as Adalind preceded him into the hallway.

"Your Bavarian crème is fair game!" Hank replied.

"If you're back in less than fifteen, I'm going to be so disappointed in you," Pogue called and the guys snickered. Nick flashed them another look and the bird when Adalind wasn't looking, and he heard them erupt into laughter as he strolled out of the department and into the waiting elevator with Adalind.

"Thank you," she told him, after riding most of the way down in the elevator together in silence. "I know you're busy, but I really appreciate you taking a few moments to help me search."

"I don't have a sweater in there," Nick said crossly.

"Well, just look," Adalind said. "It's supposed to be breezy today and I don't want to be cold."

Nick looked at her cleavage again and raised an eyebrow before the doors dinged and slid open, eliciting his attention.

"Maybe you should have worn a turtleneck instead," he said and she grinned, standing closer than necessary.

"Little revealing for a kid's field trip isn't it?" he added, giving her another look as she hurried to keep pace with him, breasts jiggling temptingly.

"What?" Adalind asked innocently, "I thought this dress would be nice. I suppose it's a little more low-cut on than I thought it would be when I saw it on the hanger," she said, coming to a stop beside his vehicle. She smoothed her hands over her chest and dress, Nick's eyes following, "but the sweater should cover that up." She smiled mischievously when she caught his eye and he gave her another look, unimpressed, and unlocked the door.

He opened the passenger side front and looked in.

"No sweater," he said, "Just as I said," and he stepped back from the door and waved his hands for Adalind to look. She peered into the cabin and twisted her lips.

"Maybe I left it in the backseat, when we were grabbing Kelly's things. It's navy blue," she said.

"It's not in the back," Nick replied, knowing the exercise was fruitless.

"Well, let's look," she said, "as long as we're here. I want to be sure."

He opened the back door with a put upon sigh, and waved another hand. "Not here. I don't have it, Adalind, but then again you knew that."

"Maybe it fell in the floorboards," she insisted, and Nick sighed irritably.

"It's not in the floorboards."

"Would you please at least look? I'd look myself, but—" she indicated her dress with another apologetic look. Given how much was spilling out of the neckline, leaning over could violate some decency laws, Nick conceded. Nick huffed another breath and glared at her.

"I'm telling you," he said, turning back to his vehicle and bending down to inspect the area in question. "It's not in the—" he jolted upright in surprise when he came away with a navy blue sweater in his hand. He stared at it dumbfounded for a long moment before looking at Adalind in consternation. He noted that it did, indeed, complement her dress perfectly.

"You planted this," he said accusingly, eyeing Adalind whose face erupted into an overjoyed smile.

"Oh, detective, you found it! You solved the mystery of the missing sweater," she said, a hint of laughter in her voice. He gave her another flinty-eyed look.

"Uh-huh," he said.

"Detective Burkhardt, I can't thank you enough. How ever shall I repay you for your kindness and perseverance?" Nick threw the sweater at her and she caught it with another chuckle. Nick had a few thoughts on how she could show her gratitude, or atone for this whole ridiculous charade but none of them were viable options, he despaired, so long as they were locked in this battle of wills over a fundraiser.

Why had he said a month?

She probably knew that when she thought this whole lost sweater bit up, and he scowled and she bit down another smile.

"Did you have your fun for the day?" he asked testily.

"Yes, I suppose I did. You are so much fun to tease," she said affectionately, and Nick rolled his eyes in disgust.

"Well, you've had your kicks, and I have actual important mysteries to solve." He slammed the car door shut and began to move away before Adalind grabbed his arm and tugged him back to her.

"Really, Detective Burkhardt, it seems like a thank you isn't enough," she said playfully.

"It's not," he replied, not in the mood, or more accurately, so in the mood he was about to spontaneously combust. He refused to be the one to give in first. He just had to hold out for eleven more days and then he'd make her pay.

"Surely there's something I could do to repay you for your time and efforts?" she said, pulling him closer and looking up at him from under long, long, black lashes.

"I know what you're doing. It's not going to work," Nick said and she smiled winsomely.

"A kiss?" she gasped, as though shocked he had suggested it. "Well, I suppose one little kiss isn't too much to ask."

"Don't even think about it," he said, knowing it wouldn't be one, or little, once they started, and she fluttered her lashes prettily as she looped her arms around him, pressing her small, shapely body, and those full, heaving breasts, against him. His arms slid around her, too, his traitorous body responding to her invitation, and he flipped her soft blonde hair over her shoulder, fingers sliding through it, before cupping her face.

"Kissing's allowed, remember?" she said breathily, pupils large and dark in the dim light of the parking garage.

That was true. So he took his time and kissed the hell out of her.

%%%%%

"God would you just hurry up and give in already?" Hank asked him later on that day after they both watched Nick bounce a suspect's head off their car fender. "I just waxed that."

"He pulled a knife! What did you want me to do? Let him stab you?" Nick retorted. "You're welcome," he added, as he reached down and grabbed the suspect's wrist and pulled it behind him as he slapped one end of his cuffs on him. Hank put his boot on the weapon as Nick grabbed the other wrist and secured him with the handcuffs.

"What have you got against sex, anyway? I thought you liked sex. You like Adalind. What's the problem?"

"I'm eleven days away from victory, Hank, I'm not going to let her get the best of me now."

Hank rolled his eyes. "You're eleven days away from stroking out. I don't know what she did to you in the parking garage, but I'm thinking you should have stayed and finished it. A beautiful woman throwing herself at you? It's rude not to finish it."

"No way. That's just what she wants. You thought I wouldn't last two weeks," Nick reminded him, dragging the suspect to his feet and shoving him into the back.

"What happened?" the suspect murmured in a daze.

"You hit your head," Nick replied and Hank huffed a sigh with another roll of his eyes.

"I'm not sure if you can count that as a victory," Hank said, returning to their topic.

"What do you mean?" Nick returned in surprise. "I'm winning, Hank. I've managed not to fall victim to every attempt she's come at me with."

"Right. How many cold showers you taken in the last few weeks? How many happy endings have you had to make for yourself?" Nick flushed slightly. "Uh-huh," Hank said with a knowing look. "Yeah, you're winning," he agreed sarcastically.

"Remind me not to shake hands with you." Wu said as he passed by.

"I wash them," Nick called after him.

"I love a happy ending," their suspect slurred and Nick and Hank looked at him.

"Shut up," Nick said crossly before Nick slammed the car door shut.

%%%%%%%

Nine days. Nine more days. And then Nick would forever be fundraiser—and Valencia—free.

He started his day like he had started many others in the last three weeks, up early, and then thirty minutes spent in the shower. The only cheap thrills he had experienced, besides the ones in the shower, were Adalind's shouts of surprise when she realized he had used up all the hot water, usually ten minutes into her morning routine.

She was not amused, but then, neither was he. He was counting down the days when he could share the hot water again with her, and a few other things.

He was seated in his chair at work, chewing on a bite of ham and turkey and Swiss on sourdough, clicking through his email over lunch, when he spotted Valencia enter the department and choked on his food. He quickly ducked down behind his computer monitor as Hank leaned over his chair and looked at him curiously.

"Excuse me," he heard the high, thin, voice say. "I'm looking for Detective Nicholas Burkhardt?"

"Right over there," he heard Pike say and Nick groaned and flashed Hank a look. Hank's brow scrunched in confusion and Nick flashed the look again, more insistently this time, before Hank shrugged helplessly and then Valencia was upon Nick.

"Detective!" Hank looked up and suddenly got it. Too late.

Nick plastered on a polite smile.

"Valencia," Valencia said, as though he wouldn't remember. It was what she said every time she saw him, complete with hand held out to shake (or kiss, he wasn't sure) and sharp smile. Nick wiped his hand on his jeans as he swallowed his food down and shook it.

"I remember," he said. "Kelly's daycare."

"Yes! Your adorable little boy. How is he?" Valencia said, with a polite smile of her own.

"He's fine," Nick replied.

"Oh, that place is just so amazing, isn't it? Savvy is doing wonderfully, too. Dr. Ansheimler thinks she's going to be exceptionally talented!" Valencia gushed, looking at Hank who offered a polite smile of his own while carefully preparing his excuse to bail. Nick recognized the signs. Nick had no idea who Savvy was, though Adalind would, and just nodded.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked Hank and Nick turned to Hank, back of his head to Valencia, and rolled his eyes.

"The charity auction," Hank said politely, and Valencia smiled more naturally.

"Yes, of course. You, and somebody else, and wasn't your captain involved too?" she asked looking around interestedly. "You were the big winner from the precinct weren't you?" she said, turning back to Nick. "I thought they did an outstanding job with your spread from the calendar," She said to Nick, considering him for a charged moment.

"What can I do for you?" Nick asked, hoping to hasten her exit.

"Well, I need to confirm the dates for your participation in our little fundraiser at the daycare, and Adalind, bless her heart, she's so forgetful when she's busy, she always says she's going to ask you and then I never hear from her and I was driving past the station—I'm never on this side of town—but I was driving past and I said, you know what, I'll just stop in and take care of it!" Valencia smiled, pleased at her ingenuity.

"Right, the fundraiser," Nick began. "About that—"

"Here, let me pull out my calendar," Valencia interrupted, and pulled out an iPad from her humongous purse slash carry-on luggage and a stylus and began tapping at the screen.

"There you are. The Schade-Burkhardts," she added with a coy smile and Nick stared at her bent head for a moment and gave Hank another pointed look. Hank shook his head.

"Right," Nick said after a moment. "Anyway, I'm—"

"Okay, I just have you down for one night…the 22nd, from 7-9 at the concession stand," she said looking at him and Nick felt his brow furrow.

"Excuse me?" he said after a moment of confusion, trying to peer at her screen.

"Is that wrong? Now there was a question mark for the 20th where Adalind said to just pencil you in because she wasn't sure you could do two nights. I think that's been the hold up on getting everything set," Valencia said, in a tone that said she was apologizing for them, but was really rather annoyed with the delay. She looked at Nick with a polite smile, but he was too busy trying to read her calendar. The week with the dates in question, Adalind's name was typed in for every weekday, except one, the 22nd where Nick's had been typed in instead. Her name was even typed in for the 20th, though in italics.

"What is this for?" Hank asked, leaning around the desk to look at Valencia better.

"The fundraiser at—"

"Yes, of course, the daycare, but what does the fundraiser entail?" Hank cut in. Valencia gave him a level look at being interrupted but she answered coolly.

"Oh, we just need some parents to staff the concession stands during the home games at the Northwest Portland Academy of Arts and Sciences. The daycare our children go to is affiliated with the school. It's very exclusive, and the children who attend are all highly intelligent. Most of the children who attend the daycare are accepted into the school, as a matter of fact." Nick looked up in surprise. "93% of those graduating have been accepted to ivy league schools."

"Right," Hank said, "I've heard of it."

Yes, so had Nick. An exclusive private school for all the rich kids. He had heard it cost forty thousand a year in tuition.

"What do they use the money for?" Hank asked her.

"Oh, scholarships for those students who can't afford to go to school there, financial aid, and equipment," Valencia said dismissively. "Each set of parents take a week. It's always feels good when you're helping others, doesn't it?" she said and Hank smiled politely in response.

"So, one night," Hank said to Nick. "Two hours," he added with a pointed look of his own at Nick, and Valencia nodded. "Sounds like a winner," he added and Nick glared at him.

"I understand from Adalind your job is very demanding, but I hope a night or two isn't too big a sacrifice," she said with an encouraging smile, and Nick swallowed. "So can I go ahead and confirm these?" she asked him, turning back to her calendar.

%%%%%%%

"So…." Hank said when Valencia had left. "You never even asked her what the fundraiser entailed?"

Nick stared blankly at his computer monitor and shook his head dumbly.

"She said fundraiser and I—I panicked," Nick defended. "I thought it would be some god-awful experience like that charity auction."

"That really wasn't all that bad," Hank said mildly.

"For you," Nick countered.

"True. Apparently all it is manning a concession booth for two hours for five days, and she only had your name down once," Hank said, clearly enjoying this.

"Twice, technically," Nick interrupted.

"You really gave up three weeks of sex instead of sitting for two hours at a booth selling five-dollar candy bars?" Hank said, snickering.

"Well she didn't tell me that," he retorted grumpily. A simple fundraiser, she had said. "Besides, it was the principle," he added petulantly. "It should be enough when I say I'm not interested."

"I'm sure Valencia is a hard woman to say no to," Hank said, "Even for Adalind. She probably got roped into it, and tried to keep you out of it as much as she could."

He suspected Hank was right. Adalind did typically try not to upset Nick too much since they had become an item, and really, she rarely did. They got along surprisingly well, once they declared a detente and all the tip-toeing and walking on eggshells around one another ceased when they first moved in together. He couldn't even remember what their last real, serious fight was about—maybe her decision to help spy on Louis. She teased him frequently, her mischievous and playful nature always front and center, and at times that added a little more color in Nick's life than he was used to and preferred (and that was saying something), but she rarely outright went against something he felt strongly about. Didn't usually have to. She was very persuasive when she wanted to be and he liked being persuaded, and making her happy.

Except this time, he hadn't allowed himself to be persuaded and so she had gotten creative. He wondered what her endgame was. She hadn't really pushed the seduction as much as she could have. Would she wait out the month and then let him think he'd won? Was she biding her time or getting ready to up her game in the next week? Or let him win and then tell him he still had to help out with the fundraiser?

"All those cold showers," Hank said and started laughing outright and Nick threw his sandwich wrapper at him.

"What's so funny?" Wu asked.

"Nothing," Nick replied with a sharp look at Hank.

"You better go home tonight and take care of that because I'm not filling out another one of these reports," he added, holding up the report for the suspect whose head Nick had bounced off the car.

"Fine," Nick said. "I'll fill out the next one."

"You're finally going give in?" Wu asked him.

"No," Nick said.

"Yes," Hank interjected pointedly.

"God, how much more are we going to have to live with you like this then?" Wu asked him.

"Like what?" Nick demanded.

"Seriously?" Wu said, looking at Hank for agreement with a roll of his eyes.

"It's only nine more days. I'm through the worst of it, besides I'm kind of curious as to what she plans to do once I hit thirty days," Nick said and Wu rolled his eyes again and Hank leaned forward and hit him.

%%%%%

He had been fully committed to serving out his remaining nine days and collecting (with interest) on his winnings, but that was before he spent four hours at a murder scene at a gentleman's club and two of the entertainers there recognized his face from the charity auction calendar, which Nick was horrified to discover was hanging in their dressing room, complete with some rather lewd comments written in marker on it. That had resulted in all manner of awkward and uncomfortable when they proceeded, after recognizing him, to hit on him, using some of the rather forward (and not entirely accurate) information Adalind had provided from the questionnaire (answers conveniently posted in small print—but not small enough—below his picture) culminating in a Woge or two at the subsequent realization he was by that point a very annoyed Grimm.

He had decided there was only so much aggravation from one woman a man could take.

"Adalind? Adalind!" he shouted when he got home.

"I'm right here, stop yelling," she said, coming out of the bedroom. "I just put Kelly down for the night. What happened to you?" she asked taking a step back from him. "Is that…glitter?"

"You happened to me," he said and took a step forward.

"Okay," she said. "You want to elaborate on that?"

"I had a visitor today," he said taking another step, and instinctively Adalind took one away from him.

"Okay," she replied warily. "From the blue fairy?" she guessed.

"Ha, Ha. No, Valencia," he added, and she stopped and looked at the glitter more closely, clearly confused by it and what he said.

"This is from a crime scene," he waved at it impatiently.

"The blue fairy was murdered?" she asked, gasping theatrically, biting her lip.

"No, it's from a witness," he said in annoyance. "Or should I say a fan, who also apparently appreciated my contribution for the Portland Arts Council calendar." Adalind looked at it again, eyes narrowing.

"Your fan was wearing glitter? Where was this crime scene at?"

"Valencia. Focus!" Nick said, not about to answer that.

"What? She came down to the station?" she asked, annoyed, and he nodded. "I swear, she cannot take a hint," she muttered and Nick took a few more steps until he was standing in front of her. "I told her I would take care of it."

"A concession stand? That's all it was?"

"I tried to tell you," Adalind said primly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I've spent most of the last twenty-one days jerking off in the shower when I could have been enjoying myself with you instead," Nick huffed and Adalind bit down another smile.

"You could have, at any moment, in the last twenty-one days been enjoying me, but you chose to spend them alone. I don't know. Maybe you were craving a little me time," she said impishly.

"What? I didn't—there's no way I—you manipulated this," he announced incredulously and Adalind gave up the battle and smiled.

"You're so adorable when you're all flustered and angry and your blood is up," she said affectionately. She raised her eyebrows, waiting, as he glared at her. "It's really quite a turn on, that determination."

"Oh, the things I'm going to do to you," he muttered threateningly and she grinned smugly.

"Does that mean you're giving in?" she said, stepping closer and sliding her hands up his arms.

"And thereby give you the opportunity to twist my arm into helping you at the concession booth. No," Nick said shortly, and Adalind dropped her arms in disappointment.

"Really?" she demanded. "And you say I'm stubborn and difficult?"

"You are stubborn and difficult," Nick confirmed, "and besides, Valencia beat you to that. I'm working it the 22nd," he said dryly.

"Oh. Oh, good, I'm having a meeting with Berman and an important client then and I couldn't get out of it."

"I also took the 20th, too," Nick added, scratching his chin and Adalind smiled warmly at him, her eyes affectionate and loving and he looked away, embarrassed with the emotion there, and wrestling with the thought he didn't really deserve it after brushing her off about the fundraiser. "I really don't like that woman," Nick added.

Adalind wrapped her arms back around his neck, leaning into him and whispered, "Thank you."

She kissed him gently before pulling back as Nick slid his arms around her waist, holding her to him.

"You're welcome. Of course now we have to talk about retribution," he said and she grinned slowly again. "What you did, was of course, reprehensible, denying me first my own bed—"

"I did not deny you your bed. I said you were perfectly welcome to your side of it. You chose to sleep elsewhere for the first week."

"Then of course the coup de gras, teasing and then denying me the pleasure of your many"—he kissed her cheek—"considerable"—he kissed the spot below her ear, "beautiful charms," he continued.

"Oh please, I charmed your pants off."

"Not quite," he said.

"Not literally," she retorted. "And only because I respected your boundaries. You would have been pants-less in a second had I'd been serious."

"Please," Nick scoffed, "I've resisted you before," he said and she gave him a look.

"I never truly tried to seduce you before," she returned. "In our present relationship, anyway," she amended quickly, no doubt thinking of that damned entwining twin curse, where giving the evidence snoozing away in the next room, she had charmed the pants off him. "Any time I've laid on the charm, as you put it, you've been quite agreeable to being charmed."

"Really?"

She slid her hand down his pants.

"Okay, let's agree to disagree," Nick said, trying to jerk away but she found what she was looking for and Nick squeezed his eyes shut and suppressed a moaned instead.

"Okay, stop," he said a bit breathlessly. It had been three weeks and he might not last three minutes if she kept that up, and he really didn't feel like making a mess in his pants.

"You sure?" she asked, not stopping.

"No," he muttered, for just a moment enjoying it. "Yes, okay stop. Stop!" he said. "You win! Uncle," he added and she pulled her hand away with a smug grin after a few more seconds of worrying him.

"Seems a shame to waste that," she remarked, kissing him again, pressing her body against his and Nick moaned again and sighed.

"Stop it. I'm trying to mete out justice here. Do you really want to add more to the list?" he said, and she pulled abruptly away, face faux serious.

"I'm sorry, detective. Grimm? To which one am I speaking?"

"As I was saying," he said, ignoring her, "denying me the pleasure of your company—"

"You denied yourself," Adalind objected. "Again, you were welcome to my company but you chose not to seek it. Apparently your hand was more preferable," she said, choking back a laugh and Nick slid an icy stare her way.

"They're very nice hands, though," she added, pulling one in front of her and kissing the fingers. "Soft and incredibly dexterous," she continued, and he smacked a soft and dexterous hand across her bottom.

"Hey!" she breathed in surprise.

"You going to keep paying me lip service?" he asked her.

"I can service your lips," she said and kissed him again.

"Did you want me to service something else?" she asked cheekily when they broke apart and Nick sighed and looked up at the ceiling and then back at Adalind. "I'm sorry," she said seriously, or as seriously as one could while grinning widely. She attempted to adjust her expression. "Justice. Right. You were saying?"

"You still have that dress? The one you wore for Kelly's field trip?"

"I do."

"And that green lacy lingerie?" Nick added, and the smile resurfaced.

"Yes."

"I think you should go put them on. I plan to do some truly decadent things to you, and I want you to be wearing them when I do." The ends of Adalind's lips curled into a sultry smile.

"I knew you'd like those. That was money well spent."

Yes it was, he thought.

"I hope you're not particularly attached to the dress," he said, "or the lingerie, because I can't say what might happen to them after we get started."

"I saw another dress," she replied.

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AN: there's an epilogue if you all want it, but it will change the story rating to an M, or perhaps I can make it the prologue to the sequel (there's one of those, too, but it will also be rated an M).

Your thoughts?