TITLE: The Only Thing That's Certain Is That Sometimes You Are Bound To Fall
sequel to First Do No Harm
SERIES: part 4 of Fate Lines
AUTHOR: Macx
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belongs to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money :)
FEEDBACK: Loved
SUMMARY: Nick is swamped in cases, an exhausting line-up of murders and deaths. And then a special case hits his desk, of someone he knows. It involves him more than he would have thought.

Spring had started with a lot of rain and thankfully not too many Grimm-related body dumps, murders or unexplained disappearances. There were a few things here or there Nick Burkhardt investigated on his own time, things he ran by Monroe and usually found a solution to that wasn't mixed with violence.

On the lighter side, Hank was happily dating a web designer called Lucy, telling Nick all about it, and his spring feelings were blossoming with the rising temperatures. Nick indulged his romantic moods as Griffin dragged his partner to different stores to find his girlfriend something special for the night. With hormones on a teenage-level high, Hank kept insisting he could set Nick up with one of Lucy's friends, double-date style, but Nick declined.

It didn't stop his partner, though. He was intent on having Nick date someone. Lucy, bless her, was more relaxed and finally told Hank to leave it to Nick who he dated.

"At his going rate he won't find the girl of his dreams until he hits eighty," Hank had joked, confirming that the man had no idea about Renard and also no suspicions.

Nick preferred it that way. Their relationship was too complicated to be understood. It wasn't just about a captain and a subordinate detective getting it on, which was a bad enough accusation anyway. It was about the psychic bond between a regnant and a human who happened to be a Grimm.

Yes, it was complicated.

But it was something Nick wasn't about to give up for anything.

One of the more gruesome murders that hit them was the death of Freddie Calvert, owner of a well-known wesen spice shop that Nick had investigated before. It had been a robbery gone wrong and the fuchsbau had paid with his life for defending his property. Nick hadn't known him that closely, just from the organ grinder case months before, but it still felt like he could have done something.

There hadn't been, of course.

With Freddie's death came the introduction of his younger sister Rosalee. They got the suspects, found an illegal drug ring, and busted more than one skalengeck butt.

Rosalee started to become a wary ally, a slow friend and finally a trusted member of his close circle of friends. And she had caught Monroe's eye, which was quite amusing for Nick to watch. The blutbad was interested in the young woman, but he was really, really bad at courting. If he was courting, Nick had wondered. Maybe it was a wesen thing. Maybe blutbaden were a bit fumbly when confronted with a possible partner of a different kind. Maybe it was purely Monroe, who claimed that human interaction was a mystery to him. He hadn't had that much of a problem with Angelina, Nick remembered, but then the female blutbad had been very, very different from the fuchsbau.

It would be interesting to watch the development.

Rosalee Calvert was an asset and her knowledge concerning poisons and medicines was invaluable. Her reservations toward the Grimm had grown less and less and by now he called her directly if something fell into her area of expertise.

Nick's allies were growing, were of all kinds, and it was… amazing for the young Grimm to acknowledge the fact that they wanted to be his friends, acquaintances or allies. In Monroe's case he had become his best friend and someone he trusted implicitly. Monroe was the only one who knew about the trailer, about the weapons, the books and everything else. They had started to train together and Monroe was very invested in teaching 'his' Grimm.

Just like someone else was by now.

x x x

"Oooof!"

Nick experienced a brief moment of breathlessness, gasping for air, feeling the leafy forest ground under his back, the weight on his hips, and he looked up into the clear, green eyes of Sean Renard, who sat astride his body. A fine sheen of sweat covered the Guardian's lightly flushed face and the expression in those eyes was... hot.

No, hot was the wrong word for it.

Powerful. Energetic. Hungry.

Well, not truly hungry, either, Nick decided. It was arousal. An arousal he had seen before. The rush of adrenaline, the sheer joy of their encounter, the graceful moves of the trained body...

And satisfaction.

Of course he would be satisfied! Nick had yet to really make an impression in this fight, despite the fact that he had held up against a regnant very well. Exceptionally well, compared to earlier training sessions.

Hands were curled around his wrists, keeping them firmly next to his head. Nick tried to move, dislodge the hard grip, but it only resulted in two strong thighs putting pressure on his hips and lower ribcage.

"I know you can do better, Grimm," Renard said softly.

"Really?" he panted, trying again. Shit. He was caught tightly.

"You're flexible and agile. I know you are. You can move."

Nick felt himself blush and fought it. Renard grinned, a grin that sometimes broke free from behind the oh-so controlled façade of the composed and distant police captain and Guardian of Portland. Especially in private. Their private.

"Let me up?"

"You want to have another go?"

"Yeah. Third time's the charm."

Renard lithely and gracefully moved off him, stepping back. Nick scrambled to his feet and shook out his arms. Leaves clung to his clothes and he felt damp in a lot of places. Training in the woods gave them privacy, but it also meant a certain discomfort. They could hardly take this to the gym. Renard didn't train with any of his subordinates, and Nick didn't want anyone to see him letting lose the Grimm.

Monroe called it a 'zone' or 'fugue state' and Nick had an idea what he meant. It was as if he was suddenly completely aware of his body, able to control every muscle, every nerve. He felt his opponent, was in tune with his moves.

Unless the opponent was his bonded mate who happened to be a lot more powerful than a run-of-the-mill reaper. He rated up there with siegbarste and the like. Nick was under no illusion that even now, in his much better trained state, a siegbarst could still tear him apart.

The Grimm attacked again, managing to get in two blows before he found himself on the ground again, Renard leaning over the him, smiling.

"You left your right side open," he told the downed man. "Again. Concentrate."

Nick sighed. He had. He did. Really. Concentrating was no problem. It was more the fact that despite being a Grimm, a wesen like a regnant was a lot faster than Nick and he couldn't compensate for that, unless he used the bond between them. Since that was only for him and Sean, it wasn't really an option when faced with another wesen like his mate. He had learned to compensate, he had already gotten so much better, but he still wasn't able to take him down.

"You can top that performance, Nick," Renard added, voice low and very close to being husky.

Something inside of him twitched in response and he cursed the other man. Renard got up as if this last remark had not been a hundred percent ambiguous.

So he tried again.

He got further this time, managing to swipe Renard's legs out from under him, but the Guardian's legs scissored toward him and Nick landed on his butt. He rolled around, evade a swipe, but then there was a blur of movement and he was looking into the gold-rimmed eyes; he was in the same situation as before.

Renard was breathing only a little harder now. His dark hair was in disarray and the clinging t-shirt did nothing to stop Nick's vivid imagination from having a head-on collision with his libido.

iDamnit!/i he cursed himself. He was here to fight, to train, not to… admire the view.

But the view was very nice and they hadn't had a lot of private time lately. Actually, close to nothing.

Both men gazed at each other, Renard sitting dominantly on his mate, his weight keeping him firmly down. The pants couldn't hide the growing evidence of the effect the training session had on either of the two.

"I think we should postpone further... training," Renard whispered, faintly glowing eyes never leaving Nick's face.

"Yeah, I totally agree."

They gazed at each other, silent.

"Sean?"

"Hm?"

"So... you wanna let me up?"

"No."

"Kinky."

Sean leaned down and kissed him, relaying his arousal and want and desire.

His wrists were freed and Nick carded his fingers into the damp hair, ran them over the warm skin.

"We're alone here," the regnant rumbled against Nick's lips.

"Really?"

Renard's eyes glowed more and the bond was alive with emotions. Nick knew how much his mate wanted him, could feel it clearly.

The next kiss was slow, soft, without haste or need or hunger. It was an expression of love, of the bond that had slowly formed between the two men. A steady and ever-growing relationship and Nick knew he wasn't alone in his amazement that it was still working.

They had had their ups and downs, severe downs actually, but it had strengthened the psychic connection, and the Grimm's loyalty to the Guardian of Portland. If anything, it had only become more. So much more.

Sean's kiss relayed rising hunger, but also a reaffirmation of their emotional bond. Nick arched slightly as Renard's mouth proceeded to torture him, finding his nipples and licking and sucking at them. He carded his fingers into the short, dark strands, feeling their silky texture.

He knew he was making soft sounds of encouragement, especially when Sean's questing fingers reached a more southern part and freed him of his pants. Nick was close to incoherent when those fingers proceeded to tease and massage, squeeze and arouse. And he was begging for release when none was given quickly.

Nick knew he was a bundle of hunger, desire and need by the time his mate was blanketing his body, kissing and rubbing himself against the hot body beneath him. And he gasped in pleasure as he was finally taken to the peak, held there, tortured by the man he felt connected to in more than physical ways. It was a rush, plain and simple. Giving him what he needed the most right now, satisfying him in a soul-deep way no one else had ever done before.

Some badly needed braincells blew, melted into a gray, undefined soup, or generally keeled over in a dead faint. Two exhausted bodies lay with each other, breathing harsher, almost panting. There were soft sounds, some gentle movement, and a murmur of pleasure from one or the other. Neither one wanted to move any more. Not an inch. Not even a twitch.

"You're going be the death of me," Sean whispered, voice barely loud enough to actually be called a voice.

"Uh-huh," came a drowsy reply.

Braincells had truly ceased to function.

Well, they were highly overrated. Who needed them anyway?

tbc...

Wow, I started out with smut... that's a first ;)