a/n: This is the third (second if you want to go chronologically) in my one-shot series. Taking place a few weeks after This Feels Familiar, it gives a nice little look inside Nick's head. Thanks for all the reviews and support for this series so far! As always, please let me know your thoughts and reactions to this one.

Two Steps Forward One Step Back

It's the realisation that he finds Adalind attractive in fuzzy socks and the ugly grey pyjamas she'd taken to wearing when she got cold that has him in a foul mood. And alright, that's not exactly why he's in such a bad mood but it really just compounded the whole issue because it turned out he found it really hard to have an actual conversation with her when she was standing there in those stupid pyjamas and the fuzzy socks (because the floor of the loft got to be like ice) and so he'd lashed out like an ass and now he didn't know how to fix it.

Or even if he wanted to fix it.

He wondered if Hank would notice if he beat his head repeatedly against his desk. His partner had certainly noticed the mood he was in but he hadn't said anything yet and so Nick was happy to go along and pretend like everything was fine.

Because it was. Fine. Absolutely fine and not at all seriously messed up because he was attracted to the woman who had tried to kill him several times and had been partially responsible for everything else that had gone wrong in his life.

Nope. Totally fine.

It was totally fine that his brain had decided that long blonde hair and soft curves were absolutely all he needed to be dreaming about the nights he didn't get stuck thinking about work or wesen worries. It was totally fine that even when he was thinking about how likely she was to kill him he ended up turned on.

Because that was absolutely, totally, normal.

Regrets about Juliette and the things he had done? The last time he'd fallen asleep thinking about that and wondering where his ex-girlfriend was his dreams had morphed into a terrifying replay of everything she'd done when she became a hexenbiest and happily compared that traumatic experience to the things Adalind had done.

And Adalind had come out the better of the two simply because she'd actually liked his mother and hadn't gotten her killed.

Because now whenever he thought about all of the bad things Adalind had done he first had to filter the through the reasons why she'd done them. Marie? Renard's orders. Hank? Renard again. Cursing Juliette? Payback for "killing" her by robbing her of her powers. Stealing his powers? Deal with the Royals because she thought it was the only way to get Diana back.

It wasn't that it made it better it was just that as reluctant as he was to admit it, he understood Adalind's motives in everything she'd done. Everything. Juliette? He had no idea why she'd done the things she'd done. He didn't understand how becoming a hexenbiest could change her so much. How could it change her to the point where she'd find killing an unborn child acceptable?

How had it changed her so much that she'd willingly gotten his mother killed and kidnapped a child?

And alright, she'd already, technically, kidnapped the same child once but they'd had Renard's permission then so that wasn't really kidnapping was it?

He remembered the look on Adalind's face when she'd realised Diana was gone and again when she'd learned that Kelly was dead and they didn't know where Diana was. He couldn't even imagine what he would do if someone took Kelly.

Actually, it would probably be best if that didn't happen. Ever. Just imaging the kind of destruction he and Adalind could create together if someone took Kelly from them was alarming at best. At worst, he suspected they'd level Portland.

And there was that guilt he'd been trying to ignore; making itself right at home in his chest and making him question – again – how it was Adalind could possibly love him.

What had he ever done to deserve her love?

Certainly nothing after their fight last night. Because he was an ass and he said things he didn't mean because he'd been trying to have a genuine conversation with her about their past and he'd been thinking about Hank nearly dying again and she'd been explaining how uncomfortable sleeping with Hank had made her feel and his brain and just sort of followed the idea of her naked and willing and, really, the fuzzy socks?

So he'd made a crack about the time she'd been Juliette and his level of willingness in that debacle and she'd, she'd just shut down.

He kind of wished she'd thrown him through a wall. Punched him in the face, maybe, but that wasn't Adalind anymore; she didn't deal with her problems by lashing out, not like he did. She'd just, she'd just stopped. Stopped smiling, stopped talking, stopped revealing the little things about her past that he secretly loved so much.

She hadn't said a word to him in over twelve hours and he was going absolutely insane.

That was maybe why, when they finally tracked their suspect down – a perfectly ordinary guy with a penchant for breaking into homes and killing people to steal their belongings – he was a little more enthusiastic than was strictly necessary. To be fair, the guy didn't try to make a run for it and he did take a swing at Hank but Nick had dealt with dozens of suspects just like him before.

He'd never whaled on any of them. He'd never hit someone so hard they were unconscious before they hit the ground, not on the job anyway, and he'd certainly never kicked anyone when they were down and out.

'Jesus!' Hank hissed when he dragged him away from the suspect and let Wu step in and take over. 'What the hell is your problem today?'

'Nothing,' Nick snapped, yanking his arm free of Hank's grip. 'I'm fine.'

'Nick,' Hank snapped right back. 'That ain't fine.'

Nick looked down at the suspect Wu was hauling to his feet. There was a moment where Nick looked at the suspect and all he felt was rage before he shook it off and reflected it was probably a good thing he hadn't been unconscious more than a few moments.

Nick huffed out a breath and stomped away from the car and the suspect. Hank, after a moment of hesitation, followed. 'What's going on with you? You've been in a shit mood all morning.'

'I had a fight with Adalind,' fell out of Nick's mouth before he could rein it in. He and Hank had never really spoken about his relationship with Adalind. As far as his partner knew they were just partaking in the weirdest, most awkward, co-parenting endeavour outside of a television sitcom.

Unlike Monroe and Rosalee, Hank hadn't been around Nick and Adalind much, not when they were together anyway, not outside of that one dinner party that went surprisingly well. Hank had no real idea how close they'd gotten or how much Nick looked forward to that moment at the end of a long day when he stepped out of the elevator and saw Adalind and Kelly safe and happy.

Nick started to pace in an attempt to work off some of the agitation he had building up and Hank just looked at him blankly. 'Okay, so you had a fight. Kind of expected a lot of fighting to be honest.'

Nick shot him a look, not even sure what he was trying to say with it and kept pacing. 'I just, ugh,' he grumbled, mostly to himself. 'It was the stupid pyjamas,' he muttered. 'And I'm not even sure why, because those things are really goddamn ugly – but she refuses to spend more money than necessary on clothes, which is ridiculous because she's Adalind – and the socks!' He turned to Hank. 'Who the fuck finds fuzzy socks attractive?!'

If he hadn't gotten himself so worked up he might have found the look of complete and utter confusion on Hank's face amusing. As it was, though, he was still a mess and he was confused and he felt sick with guilt and maybe if she'd looked at him just once that morning before he'd left he could have apologised properly but Adalind could take the gold for avoidance and so he'd just left.

Left her alone in their stupid "fome" with the child he loved and adored and he never once considered the result of anything more than two consensual adults having what (he could totally admit now) was a really good time.

'Nick,' Hank said slowly as if he didn't think he could understand simple English words in his agitated state. 'I have no idea what you're talking about and definitely no idea what,' he broke off, hesitated, 'fuzzy socks have to do with anything.'

Nick stopped and looked at Hank. They'd been partners for years and had a pretty good friendship going but that didn't mean Nick felt comfortable talking about his relationship with Adalind with the man. Juliette had been an easy topic, both when things had been good and bad – and had he ever gotten this messed up over a fight with Juliette? He didn't think he had, he and Juliette had never had the power to hurt each other this much, no matter how much they loved each other, they just didn't have that all consuming – ugh, he couldn't even think of the right way to describe this thing he had with Adalind.

Was it possible to feel so much, to be so consumed by conflicting emotions, that your head just exploded?

Pinching the bridge of his nose – Nick could feel a headache coming on – he closed his eyes and just breathed. 'I'm an asshole,' he said eventually.

Hank, in his wisdom, simply nodded.

Nick breathed in deeply and then out. 'I need to call Rosalee.'

'Not actually where I thought this was going but, okay, I'll bite,' Hank muttered

Nick didn't waste any time pulling his phone out of his pocket and the moment Rosalee answered he blurted out, 'I messed up.'

There was a considerable pause before Rosalee replied, 'Yes.'

'I'm an asshole.'

For once, Rosalee didn't have kind words to say and though he knew he deserved none and should probably feel guilty the only thing he felt right then was relief. Relief that Adalind had someone she could go to when he messed up and said things he didn't mean.

'I didn't mean what I said.'

There was a sigh before Rosalee spoke again, her voice gentle this time. 'I know.'

'Can you,' Nick hesitated before barrelling on, 'can you do me a favour? Can you take Adalind shopping?'

'What?' This was clearly not the favour Rosalee had been expecting. 'I don't think you can buy your way out of this one, Nick.'

'She won't buy new things,' he tried to explain. 'She needs more things Rosalee and she needs a day of being pampered.'

If he'd been at the Spice Shop he might have seen Rosalee narrow her eyes suspiciously but as it was he was still standing on the side of the road, bruises forming on his knees from where he'd landed tackling the suspect, with Hank watching him from a respectful distance.

'Maybe I'll see if Monroe can watch Kelly and I'll take her out this afternoon,' Rosalee conceded. 'But Nick,' she cautioned. 'You need to make this right.'

It didn't ease the guilt completely but it lightened his mood considerably so that when they marched the suspect into holding he didn't feel the urge to punch anyone. He still had no idea how he was supposed to apologise for what he said. It wasn't like he could just explain to Adalind that he sometimes found himself so attracted to her that he actually hated himself.

What woman wants to hear that?

He thought he'd said enough, that night a few weeks ago, when he'd told her the truth about Germany and she'd revealed her powers were coming back. Hadn't he told her then that he was conflicted about his feelings for her? He was sure he'd explained to her how he couldn't think about her without thinking about all of the things they'd done to each other and what about Juliette? Was he betraying her by sleeping beside (and okay with – once!) the woman who (helped) turned her into a hexenbiest?

Back at their desks, Hank gave him a funny look. When Nick questioned him on it he just shook his head and brushed it off as nothing. Nick, his head still more focused on his own problems, shrugged it off.

Adalind wasn't waiting for him when he finally got home. Monroe was instead. His friend looked a bit shell-shocked, like he couldn't quite figure out how it had happened but he was there and Kelly looked to have survived the experience even if he did look suspiciously relieved for such a young baby when Nick scooped him up to say hi.

'I don't know what you did,' Monroe said, 'and I'm not sure I want to know, I just know that I've never seen Rosalee so mad at you.'

Nick winced. 'I may have implied the sex when we conceived Kelly wasn't consensual.'

He could tell Monroe that, right? They'd talked a little about how Nick felt when they were in Germany and before they'd left even, so it wasn't like Monroe didn't know at least some of what was happening. He just didn't have the full emotional rollercoaster of ups and downs that had been their relationship since his return from Germany.

'Nick,' Monroe said slowly, eyes focused on the way Nick was bouncing Kelly and smiling at his son. 'Isn't that kind of the case?'

Nick stopped bouncing Kelly playfully and looked at Monroe, face serious, eyes hard. 'No,' he said firmly. 'It was never like that.'

'Nick,' Monroe started but didn't seem to know how to finish.

Nick hadn't talked to anyone about that day, not even Juliette because, well that would have just been weird. He and Adalind seemed to have come to some sort of agreement not to really talk about it. They'd both referred to it before but only in passing and never in any serious way that would lead to them actually talking about it.

Clearly, he needed to talk to Monroe about it.

Was that really how his friends saw it? Was that what they thought when they looked at Adalind and Kelly?

'You know Rosalee, right?' he asked. 'How she feels? How she tastes and moves, the sounds she makes?' He felt really uncomfortable asking but he needed Monroe to understand.

His friend shifted, looking just as uncomfortable answering the question as Nick felt asking it. 'You mean when we…you know?'

'Yeah.'

'Oh,' Monroe mumbled. 'Yeah.'

'You'd be able to tell, without looking that it wasn't her if someone…' Nick really didn't know how to complete that sentence either but luckily Monroe seemed to get the picture.

'Yeah,' he said hurriedly. 'I'd know, I mean, come on, that -' He broke off and looked at Nick with wide eyes. Nick found he couldn't meet them, couldn't see the new understanding in Monroe's eyes, the look that said he was thinking back over everything that happened and suddenly re-evaluating what he thought he'd known.

'I knew something was off,' Nick admitted quietly, still not looking at his friend. 'She didn't move like Juliette, react in the same ways, but I didn't know anything like that was possible so I guess I just ignored it.'

'Was it…' Monroe trailed off looking, if possible, even more awkward.

'Good?' Nick guessed. When Monroe nodded, Nick finally looked up. 'I think the word might actually be amazing,' Nick admitted.

'Wow.' Monroe didn't seem to know what else to say and Nick definitely couldn't blame him.

'I think Juliette knew,' Nick admitted. 'At least I think she suspected. When she accused me of sleeping with someone else and the whole thing came out I wasn't as freaked out as I probably should have been.'

'What?'

Nick shrugged, stroking a hand up and down Kelly's back. 'It was Adalind,' he said, like that was somehow explanation enough. It wasn't though, because Monroe continued to look confused. 'I guess, I expected it?' Nick struggled to put it in words that Monroe could understand. 'It was what we did, I helped steal her baby, I guess I was expecting payback and then when Hank found out she'd taken a flight to Vienna I knew what she'd done.'

'That's not what I was expecting,' Monroe admitted. 'You never said anything, you always seemed kind of freaked out about it.'

Nick remembered that, remembered saying something about possibly being sick if they talked about it any more but he also remembered how easily he'd accepted the explanation her flight to Vienna had provided. He remembered how easy it was to believe she'd had a reason for doing what she did.

'It's a problem I have,' Nick said finally with a self-deprecating laugh. 'I keep letting what everyone else thinks and feels colour how I feel and act.'

'What?'

'I like Adalind,' Nick said firmly, like he was trying to prove something. 'When its just us the three of us here at home, things are great but then I start thinking about the past and what you guys think and then I do really stupid shit like panic over the fact that I find her sexy when she's wearing the ugliest pyjamas I've ever seen and fuzzy socks and I lash out.'

Monroe, who seemed to have a much better grasp of these things than Hank, snorted. 'Fuzzy socks?'

'Fuzzy socks,' Nick confirmed. 'No idea why, it was actually kind of stupid. We were getting ready for bed and she was complaining about Renard – whose tyring to blackmail her by the way – and we got to talking about the things she did because he'd just ask her to and how she hated that she'd slept with Hank and I panicked.'

'Um, not sure what to ask first,' Monroe replied. 'Do I ask more about the fuzzy socks or the blackmail?'

Nick snorted. 'Beer?'

'Please.'

They moved to the couch. The conversation was so much easier to have when they didn't have to look at each other and it was easier to sit back and put his feet up and just let Kelly fall asleep on his chest. Something about having his son snoozing on him made this easier.

'Adalind's got her powers back,' Nick began and told Monroe about how she'd hidden their return from him and how that had led to Renard thinking he could blackmail her into posing as the perfect family to help him win the mayoral election for Black Claw in exchange for getting Diana back.

Voicing Nick's exact thoughts when Adalind had stormed back into the loft and told him, Monroe said, 'That's great parenting right there.'

'I know,' Nick murmured, 'Adalind does too. She's worried that if she does get Diana back that Renard is going to try and use her, not just for Black Claw but to gain power with the Royals as well, now that the King is dead.'

While he could ask about Black Claw, Renard or even what exactly they thought they'd do with Diana if they did ever find her, Monroe chose to ask about his relationship with Adalind. Nick figured that was probably for the best, he didn't know what he would do with Diana and he had just as much idea how he was supposed to deal with Black Claw and Renard.

Not that he really had any idea what to do about Adalind, either.

'I know we haven't exactly been supportive,' Monroe apologised, 'I guess its just harder for us to see Adalind the way you do. Just because she's building some sort of friendship with Rosalee doesn't mean we can just write off everything she's done.'

Nick started to talk but Monroe shushed him.

'But I think it's time we acknowledged that she has changed and having her powers back hasn't really changed anything like we feared it would. Maybe you need to forget about what you think we'd say or what we'd think and just focus on what you feel.

'You need to tell her what you felt that day she pretended to be Juliette and you need to make her understand that you're,' Monroe didn't quite trail off but he seemed to realise he might be about to put his foot in it.

Nick had no trouble finishing his sentence though. 'Scared?' he suggested. 'Completely and utterly terrified that I can feel so much for someone I thought I hated? How about the fact that after everything I've put her through she's somehow managed to find her way to loving me?'

'Yeah,' Monroe exhaled, 'something like that.'

They were silent for a long time before Nick found the words he wanted that best expressed his next concern. 'What if I've ruined this, whatever this is?'

Monroe looked at him, studied him before he spoke his next piece of advice, 'Maybe before you can think about fixing it, you need to figure out what it is. What do you even want from Adalind?'

He could have said he didn't know, that would have been truthful (mostly) but Nick couldn't. He needed to give this a lot more thought than he'd allowed himself previously because he was beginning to realise that up until this point he'd been taking Adalind for granted. Her circumstances had placed her under his protection and he'd started viewing that as a permanent arrangement somewhere along the way.

It wasn't. Some day Adalind would be safe enough to move on with her life and the thought filled him with dread. He didn't know exactly what he wanted from her or their relationship but he did know the idea of her moving on, of having a life without him left him reeling.

Was it fair though, to expect Adalind to wait around for him when he couldn't offer her what she wanted, what she needed? Could he offer her that? Could he build the life he'd always imagined having with Juliette with Adalind instead? Was that fair to Adalind? Was it even fair to him?

Surprising him, Monroe said, 'I don't see it all, not when you're alone obviously, but what I have seen of you and Adalind, you seem happy.'

'I think I am,' Nick admitted. 'But I keep ruining it by feeling guilty and pushing her away.'

Pushing Adalind away was easier than admitting he'd let Juliette go completely. Pushing her away was easier than admitting to himself and everyone else that he could make a life with Adalind in all her hexenbiest glory and in spite of their past, when he couldn't make one with Juliette whom he'd loved for years.

What did that say about his relationship with Juliette?

'Maybe you shouldn't be looking at it that way,' Monroe suggested when Nick voiced his guilt. 'Maybe you need to think about what it says about you and Adalind.'

'How do you mean?'

Monroe didn't look exactly comfortable – actually hadn't looked comfortable since they'd started this conversation – but that didn't stop him from speaking his mind when clearly Nick needed to hear it. Any reservations he might have had about confiding in Monroe had vanished once they'd gotten passed the awkward sex part of the conversation.

'Maybe what you need to be thinking about is the fact that you proposed to Juliette and she turned you down. Maybe the problem isn't that you're betraying Juliette, maybe the problem is admitting that what you had with Juliette wasn't meant to last.'

Nick opened his mouth, couldn't think of anything to say and snapped it closed.

Was that really the root of the issue? All the guilt he felt, all the times he forced himself to remember the things Adalind had done, were they all because he felt like he was betraying Juliette because things with Adalind were so easy?

Well, easy wasn't really the right word to use but it was the only one he could think of that fit how he was feeling. That first day in the old house when he had brought Adalind home from the hospital they'd simply fallen into an easy (if benign) conversation about her allergy to raw tomato and what they were good at cooking.

As simple as that.

It had only been awkward when his phone had interrupted and reality had intruded. What if the easy way they slipped into living together and parenting together was the reality? What if he was spending so much time feeling guilty he was missing the point entirely? What if Monroe was right? What if what he should have been thinking about wasn't that he was betraying Juliette but that for once he was exactly where he was supposed to be?

He wasn't sure he believed in fate, wasn't sure he believed there was some kind of plan in place for him, but he had to consider how frequently he and Adalind found themselves drawn back to each other. She was the first wesen he'd ever seen and they'd kept crossing paths (explosively) for years. He remembered her words from that time he'd managed to lock her up, when she'd teased him about how much fun they could have had in a different life.

There had never been anyone in his life who wielded such power over him before. There'd never been anyone in his life, before Adalind, who'd possessed the power and ability to hurt him so deeply. From the very beginning, every move Adalind made hit him hard and cut deep.

And the same could be said in reverse, he'd hurt her just as deeply and violently. They'd never done anything half way, everything they'd done had been huge, life altering, and admittedly destructive to the point of vicious. His friends and family had merely gotten caught in the middle.

Juliette had gotten caught in the middle.

On the days when he was being most honest (with himself at least), he could admit that Juliette's inability to love him as a hexenbiest was her problem not a result of something he'd done. If Monroe was right, then what had happened with Juliette had been on her not on him. Why had he expected her becoming a hexenbiest to be something they could overcome when just weeks before she'd accused his nature as a Grimm of destroying their happy normal life?

He didn't like it, didn't like the implications, but Nick had to truly consider that perhaps he and Juliette had been hanging onto something broken because it was easier than admitting what they had didn't work. The implication that he and Juliette had been broken long before she became a hexenbiest didn't make things easier. It didn't suddenly relieve Nick of his guilt, it just made him doubt what he was feeling and thinking all the more.

If he couldn't tell when his relationship with Juliette was falling apart, what hope did he have of making something work with Adalind when their relationship was far from smooth?

God, did he even want a relationship with Adalind? In spite of everything, could he set aside their shared past to be with her?

'Haven't you kind of already done that?' Monroe pointed out. 'I mean, you did sleep with her.'

Nick blew out an exasperated breath. 'Being attracted to Adalind has never been a problem,' he admitted aloud for the first time, wondering if acknowledging his physical attraction to the blonde was even really necessary at this point.

Apparently it was because Monroe raised an eyebrow and said, 'Really? Always?'

Nick dropped his head back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling. 'Always.'

'Huh.' Monroe considered this for a moment before he observed, 'That's kind of messed up.'

Nick groaned. 'I'm aware. Mostly, I tried not to think about it.'

'Mostly?'

'Can we not talk about this?' Nick demanded.

'I dunno, Nick,' Monroe replied and Nick hated that there was humour in his friends voice now. 'I'm beginning to think this thing between you and Adalind was inevitable.'

This whole conversation wasn't serving to clear things up, actually it was making things more and more confusing.

Inevitable? Were he and Adalind really inevitable?

'I know why she did everything she did now, I know what motivated her and I can understand why she did the things she did,' he admitted, not speaking to Monroe necessarily, but just because he needed to say the words aloud.

'So what's the problem?' Monroe asked when he didn't say anything more.

'If I knew that, I wouldn't be in this mess.'

The sound of the elevator took Nick by surprise and he had to resist the urge to run and hide with a cry of, 'I'm not ready!'

He didn't really want to run and hide, though, that had never been in his nature, instead he and Monroe got to their feet and moved to meet the elevator. The grate slid up and for the first time in a full twenty-four hours, Nick found himself meeting Adalind's eyes.

'Hi,' he greeted and he was man enough to admit there was a breathless quality to his voice that made him feel like a teenager.

'Hi,' she returned and there was so much uncertainty and hurt in her voice that he was almost sucked under by a fresh wave of guilt. He barely even noticed Rosalee in the elevator with her and he certainly didn't hear Monroe making a hasty retreat. He only had eyes for Adalind as she moved hesitantly into the loft, hands weighed down by several packages.

'We should go on a date,' he blurted out before he could think to say something more eloquent and with a little more lead up.

Clearly not the words Adalind had been expecting she froze, aborting the motion that would take her passed him and toward their bedroom where she could store her purchases and, more importantly, avoid looking at him.

'What?'

Aware he was still holding a sleeping Kelly, Nick moved carefully until he could place his son in the bassinet Monroe had put in the living room, without taking his eyes off Adalind. Done he stood and moved toward her taking the bags from her hands and finally forcing her into motion when he placed them carefully on the couch.

He took a deep breath and tried again. 'I have never once considered what happened that day to be anything other than consensual,' he said firmly, eyes locked with Adalind's in an effort to make her see the truth in his eyes and not just his words.

She opened her mouth, to say what he had no idea, but he held a hand up, cutting her off.

'I need to say this.' He waited until she'd nodded warily before he spoke again. 'Sex with you has never been anything but sex with you, even when you looked like Juliette it was still you and even if I never told you – or Juliette for that matter – I knew something was different that day but I never said anything. You don't taste the same, touch the same, you didn't respond how Juliette would have responded. I knew, even if I didn't know, that the person I was with wasn't Juliette. I could have stopped you at anytime, Adalind, but I didn't because it was good and fun and everything Juliette and I hadn't been in a while.

'But that was my problem and not yours,' he stated honestly. 'I talked to Monroe today and he asked me something I'd never thought to consider. He asked me to think about what my relationship with Juliette actually said about me and you.'

He couldn't imagine how that sounded to Adalind but the fact that she was still standing before him and hadn't run away gave him hope he wasn't making an even worse mess of things. Once more she opened her mouth to say something but again he didn't give her the chance.

'He asked me what it said about my relationship with Juliette that being with you was so easy.'

Adalind's mouth snapped closed in surprise and he saw it, the moment she realised this was an apology, an attempt to make up not break up (as it were), and although it wasn't perfect, although he hadn't nearly said enough to make up for his cruel words of the night before, he saw her shoulders relax, her hands unclench, as some of the tension drained out of her.

'I was miserable all day because I hurt you and I'm sorry for that but I needed to realise what you mean to me, what the family we've made together means to me.' He closed the distance between them in three quick strides and gently took her hand. 'I won't tell you I love you, because I'm not there yet,' he whispered, lacing his fingers through her own and tugging gently until she was pressed up against him so that she had to look up and he down to speak to each other.

'But I will tell you that when I think about my future, you're always in it.'

She closed her eyes against the strength of his gaze and they simply stood together breathing steadily, feeling her chest rise and fall a breath away from his own.

'Did you really know it wasn't Juliette?' she asked eventually in a quiet voice that quivered with uncertainty.

Nick let out a breath of laughter. 'Of everything I just said, that's what you choose to comment on?'

She smiled, and he realised how tired she looked. Clearly he wasn't the only one who'd had trouble sleeping last night. Trouble that couldn't just be attributed to sleeping on that stupid single bed, like he had.

'Its important, Nick.'

'I did,' he confirmed. 'Juliette confronted me in the car on the way to Monroe and Rosalee's wedding,' Nick explained in a low voice. 'I don't think I was as angry about the whole thing as she was expecting when we realised it had been you.' Nick shrugged, a little amused at himself this time. 'The fact that I'd slept with you didn't bother me nearly as much as the fact that Juliette was suddenly sick of our life.

'That's what's been bothering me so much lately,' he realised. 'I feel guilty that I can imagine having the kind of future with you that I couldn't with Juliette.'

It wasn't that he couldn't have that future with Juliette because she'd turned into a hexenbiest, helped kill his mother and then run off with the Royals and Diana, it was that she'd turned down his marriage proposals and hadn't wanted him to reclaim a huge part of his heritage.

'Juliette couldn't accept my life, not really,' he pressed on. 'She would never have been comfortable marrying me and having a family with me because she couldn't accept the things being a Grimm brought into our life. It just took you getting pregnant and Juliette going power mad for me to realise the truth.

'I am happy, Adalind, you make me happy.' He listened to her suck in a shaky breath and smiled. 'So, do you want to go on a date with me?'

'No.'

That was not the answer he was expecting.

'What?' he looked down at her, hoping that something in her expression would tell him where he went wrong. Had he hurt her so badly that she didn't want anything more to do with him? She was still gripping his hand, though, hadn't even tried to pull it free.

'I don't want to go on some clichéd dinner where we sit at a table in a fancy restaurant an get to know each other,' she told him reasonably. 'I already know you, Nick, and I think we do okay right here.'

Rather than feel rejected or disappointed that she thought he'd treat her to something so cliché as dinner at a romantic restaurant, Nick felt relieved. He liked the informal way they were getting to know each other, the little bits about her past she let slip when conversation rolled naturally around to it. He like being able to talk about his day without worrying he'd be overheard and carted away for being crazy.

'I'm not sure I deserve you,' Nick said quite suddenly. He'd just been struck by the realisation that Adalind had chosen to come to him. She'd been brave enough to risk everything on the simple hope that as a good man he would help her. She'd come to him that day with nothing to her name and placed not just her life but also her heart in his hands.

It was utterly terrifying.

'I'm not sure I deserve you, either,' she admitted. 'We've hurt each other,' she reminded him unnecessarily. 'A lot.'

'Yeah,' he agreed. 'But we save each other, too.'

At work the next morning, Hank was still giving him funny looks. They didn't pull a case, leaving them at their desks finishing off paperwork and catching up on other cases for potential new leads. Nick was happy to sit there and do the work but the way Hank kept leaning around his computer and frowning at him was putting him on edge.

'What?' he finally demanded, when after hours of work, Hank had managed to talk about everything but the looks he kept shooting Nick.

'You're in a better mood today,' he observed.

Nick shrugged, 'I actually got some sleep last night.'

Hank narrowed his eyes. 'You made up with Adalind, then?'

Nick looked away from the email he was reading about his next court appearance and frowned at Hank. 'Uh yeah, yeah we're good.'

Nick went back to the email, frowning over the list of things he was supposed to say and do, like he hadn't done dozens of court appearances before. It took him a couple of minutes to notice that Hank was still staring at him but by then something else had distracted him.

Adalind, in a new dress she must have bought on her shopping trip with Rosalee, and her old cream coloured coat, was walking toward him, Kelly, nestled comfortably in his carrier, swinging gently by her side. He felt himself smile widely at the sight and he swung around in his chair, leaning back to look up at her as she approached.

'Hey,' he greeted with a wide smile. 'What are you doing here?'

'I thought I'd take you up on your offer,' she informed him, casting a smile over his shoulder at Hank and placing Kelly's carrier on his desk.

'My offer?' he asked, leaning over to tickle Kelly's belly and smiling when his son made a gurgling noise that he took to be a giggle.

'Its not dinner,' she offered as an explanation, 'but how about lunch?'

Now he knew the smile he gave her was a little on the goofy side but he didn't much care. 'Sure.' He got to his feet and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. Shrugging into it he said goodbye to Hank and reached out to take Kelly's carrier with one hand and without thinking reached for Adalind's with the other.

She smiled up at him sweetly and they made for the elevator.

He didn't see the way Hank's eyebrows shot up in surprise, he wouldn't have cared, if he did.