AN: Still procrastinating. Another idea I'm not sure where it came from but begged to be written. Follows events in the tv series. Not sure if I've got the voice right.

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I was so consumed with anger, grief, hurt, and regret, over what had happened, what they had all did to me, what she put into motion, what I did to them, that it was almost a relief to have died. It was consuming me, but not fast enough, because there were moments I was aware of the pain I had caused them all there at the end. Caused Nick.

I didn't know a way out of it until the Wall showed me, reshaped me, help me to let go of the pain and anger and the past and channel it into something useful. Resurrected from the dead and it seemed best to leave everything that had died with me there in the ground.

Eve. The government's code name for they what they did to me, their special project, and the name had stuck, but the memories of my time before as Juliette stuck, too. So long as they stayed buried, but I didn't anticipate that Nick's ability to compartmentalize whatever feelings he had left for me and months of albeit limited interaction would resurrect the Juliette I had long since tried to forget.

Never in a million years did I imagine hurting Nick the way I hurt him. I had loved him for so long, been in love with him, that what happened...it can't be explained away.

I had reasons, though. Good ones, or so I thought at the time.

It's unbelievable that after all the hurt she had caused him-had done nothing but hurt him from the moment they met-that he should love her.

He acts as though she gave him some great gift, getting pregnant with his child. If she hadn't been trying to strip him of his gifts, his abilities as a Grimm, trying to hurt him, he wouldn't even have a child with her.

I gave him those abilities back and he couldn't even look at me.

Of course it's Nick so he loves the baby no matter what. A boy and the heir to the Burkhardt name, and maybe even the Grimm tradition. To whom she will always be the mother of, and he seems to regard her more reverently because of it.

It's sickening.

And it hurts.

It's evident no matter how he tries to hide it-they both try to hide it-that he feels strongly about her. The way he looks at her, eyes lingering a beat too long. When they talk, the way he turns his body into her, and when he touches her, trying to pass it off as a nonchalant brush of his hand that the gesture is more intimate and familiar.

And that hurts too. He's sleeping with her, that's glaringly obvious to anyone that knows him like I do. Another thing they're both trying to hide, and I can't help but wonder why they even bother at this point.

I wonder what she says or does that makes it okay, that makes it even possible for him to look at her and then make love to her, after everything she's done to him. Maybe it's just sex between them. Maybe he tells himself it's the mother of his child and that makes it easier to ignore everything else she is.

The hexenbiest who tried to kill him, ruin him, destroyed his life and his happiness. The hexenbiest he goes home to every night, wakes up to every morning, shares a morning cup of coffee and dinner and tidbits of his day with. The hexenbiest who isn't me.

She actually sounded happy when she answered his phone. After everything she has done, that she gets to be the one who is happy, living with him.

Nick Burkhardt's phone. The laughter in her voice, as though there was some shared joke between them, the subliminal intimacy they had, rankled. And then he had sounded disturbed and annoyed, as though I was intruding on their private time together, and that had hurt too. That he wouldn't want any excuse to be out of the house, away from her.

He doesn't allow himself to feel anything but anger and resignation with me. There's no familiarity anymore, though that's as much my fault by design as it is his inability or refusal to see beyond what I've made myself into now. Everything I had to do to survive after everything she set in motion.

My own culpability in destroying his life, and his happiness.

It makes me wonder though, that if he can forgive her, or look past everything she has done, is there hope for me and for us? Is it truly just loyalty to the child and the child's mother, or could there be something deeper?

She's holding their baby in her arms, and Nick—Nick looks like the Nick of old—making faces at his son, not the weary, haggard, dark and hard Nick that's been walking around these last nine months. He exaggerates his expression and the baby smiles, laughs a little, and I see both Adalind and Nick share in a grin, too. Nick looks years younger, happy.

Proud parents.

No matter what Nick and I are able to reconcile she will always be between us now. That baby will always be theirs, no matter what.

She tells him she loves him. They're alone, just me and the shadows, and I can just make out her words from my place in the darkness of the parking garage. He doesn't say it back, but he leans forward after a moment and kisses her, their son held in her arms between them, and he breaks away a moment later, the eyes lingering again on her face before she bids him goodbye and he helps her settle their child in what used to be my car and he watches her drive off.

Despite the looks and the touches and the newfound intimacy, he's having a hard time reconciling their current relationship with their past. It's confusing him, what his heart wants and what his head is telling him. I think maybe that's the opportunity to remind him he shouldn't be so accepting of whatever charms she's using, they won't last, but there's no other way to say, other than how I already have, that he should be careful with her.

And I'm gripped by the fear that what if it doesn't matter and he loves her anyway, despite it all. That it somehow works between them, the hexenbiest and the Grimm who used to be mortal enemies. That they find happiness and are able to have a life together, where he and I couldn't, despite six years as a foundation.

It's astounding, how he's able to even consider a relationship with her when he could never get past what I had become with ours. How repulsive he found me and yet he finds her so attractive?

He starts walking away, heading back into the precinct, and I step out of the shadows and he turns to me with a frown, hand hovering over his pistol until he realizes it's me. His hand moves away from his holster and his eyes are distant and cold, affecting that look he usually wears when he's around me.

He's still trying too hard. Trying too hard to show he doesn't care anymore about me, that I don't affect him, and it hurts because it's mostly true.

Mostly, but not completely. I can still get to him if I want to, but it's getting harder each day as he slips more firmly into a life with her.

"Eve," he says with a touch of annoyance in his voice. "What do you want?" He glances almost involuntarily to where Adalind had been, and I wonder what's going through his mind, if it's the thought I may have seen them, that their secret relationship isn't so secret, or worry from me and what I may do to the child and the hexenbiest who bore him that.

"I have some information you might be interested in," I say, and his frown deepens and I am struck by how unhappy he looks now whenever he interacts with me. He nods slowly and heaves a sigh.

"What is it?"

"Not here," I say, because I can tell he just wants me to spit it out and be done with it. Done with me. He looks doubly annoyed now, and says irritably, "Where?"

"I'll call you with a time and place for a meet," I say, knowing he wants a time and date now, so he can organize his life, settle into his evening with her. My life is no longer organized and neat because of her, why should his be?

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The scent of her lies thick with him.

He's slept with her again, and I ponder how frequent an occurrence this is for them, what sex is like between them before I can clamp down on the thought. Is this something that happens with fair regularity, or just when he's in the mood for human contact and resigns himself to it being with her. If he's the same with her as he was with me, and I think given their history, he can't be. Does he truly make love to her when he's intimate with her? He seems lost in his thoughts, reflective, and the usual moodiness and shortness he has with me has been replaced with the quiet resignation he sometimes demonstrates when he's been forced into interacting with me.

"You said you had information for me?" he asks without preamble as I settle into his truck beside him.

"How's Adalind?" I reply, "Have you seen any of the changes I spoke of?"

I want to know if she told him, if she has the balls to be honest and upfront with him, instead of letting him believe that everything is normal and happy, or whatever passes for it, between them.

He looks away from me, out the driver side window, as the rain pelts down, and I can tell by his expression I've hit a nerve.

"Has she said anything?" I press, and he pulls his attention away from the rain and back to me and gives me a hard look.

"What we talk about is none of your business," he says and his answer gives me my answer. We. Not she or I. I wonder if he's even aware of what he said and how he said it.

He's aware of what she's becoming again, what she may already be and it's interesting that knowing this he still chose to sleep with her regardless. What goes through his mind when he makes that choice? I'm gripped with the sudden fear it's love, that he loves her and he hopes by making that choice he's proving to her somehow that what she is doesn't matter to him.

"You said you had information?" he prompted again, his hand going to the ignition, the implication being he's going to drive off in a moment if we don't get down to business.

"Diana has surfaced," I say, expecting shock from Nick. I don't get it and I look at Nick curiously.

"I've heard," is all he says and I wonder where and who from.

"Adalind?" I ask and he looks away from me again. Adalind. So they talk about some things.

"Where did she hear it from?" I ask him, looking forward, and he turns back to look at the windshield.

"Renard," he says, and I look at him again.

"Renard contacted her?" I push and he nods shortly.

"Interesting," I say, and a muscle ticks in his jaw. He feels threatened by Renard and this development, I can see, and what it means for Adalind and their relationship. "He's going to use Diana to enlist Adalind's help with his campaign," I add and Nick turns back to me.

"How do you mean," he asks, shifting in his seat.

"Rachel is pushing for a more family-man oriented platform. Diana, the daughter, and Adalind, the wife, obviously. A ready-made family," and Nick frowns.

"I doubt Adalind's willing to go along with that," he says with an assuredness that speaks volumes of how close they've grown over the months.

"She may not have a choice. I doubt she does. Renard is probably using the knowledge of Diana's whereabouts to coerce her into helping him. We need to know more about what he's trying to do. Diana in the hands of the uprising would be detrimental, and it's concerning that they may know or be in possession of her."

"I told Adalind to tell me the next time he tries to contact her," Nick said.

"You think she will?" I ask and it hangs in the air between us that she still hasn't told him about her powers returning.

"Yeah," Nick replies, but he's not as confident now, though he tries to hide his uncertainty.

"You should know I told Adalind that if she hurts you, I'm coming for her," I tell him after a thick silence and he looks at me in surprise, mouth twisting before he finds his voice.

"You threatened her?" he asks anger creeping in his voice. He's protective of her, I note. "When was this?"

"A few weeks ago, at your loft, when Rosalee and Monroe were hiding in your walls," I tell him, and there's something there because I see a flicker of recognition, or fear and concern, and I file that away for future reflection.

"You came to my home?" he asks incredulously and he shifts again in his seat, turning to me more fully. He always did try so hard to make it safe, but it looks like his efforts at the loft were as wasted as the ones on our home when we lived together, though the level of security at his new place was interesting to note. As was the barrenness and bleakness of the place. How completely opposite of where he used to live.

"Yes," I say looking at him.

"What the hell do you care about me?" he asks coldly. "You made your choice, remember?" And it's clear in his inflection that he's made his. "I'm just some chess piece in the government's fight against the uprising, right? So let's both not kid ourselves that it's anything deeper. Stay the fuck out of my personal life, and my home," he adds venomously and I raise an eyebrow and telekinetically open the passenger door to leave.

"We'll be in touch," I say and allow it to close, Nick still staring angrily after me. He puts his truck in gear a few moments later and I watch him drive off.

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I hear a baby crying when I enter the shop. I wave a hand and the door shuts and locks behind me. The sound is coming from below my feet, the basement, as are several hushed voices. Rosalee comes out from the side room as I approach the counter.

"How can I—Eve," she notes in surprise.

"I need to see Nick." I tell her and she frowns and nods after a moment.

"He's downstairs," she says. "I'll get him," she says with a reluctance that makes me think she doesn't want to interrupt whatever is happening below us. I tilt my head and distinguish Nick's voice, the baby's, and Adalind's. Rosalee turns to head down the steps to the basement and I follow. She looks at me in surprise and says, with some force, "I can get him."

"That's not necessary," I reply as I continue down the steps behind her.

"Nick," Rosalee calls and I hear Adalind say something to him in a high, strained voice, but Rosalee calls his name again, more urgent, and I miss what is said because of it. I look around Rosalee and spot Nick over near a wooden worktable. Adalind is standing in front of him, her back to me as she's holding their crying baby, and she looks behind her too, and makes eye contact with me. She woges, and there's no way Nick can miss her reaction. He glances at her then looks at me with a closed off expression and steps around her and the child so that he's in front of her now, between us.

He's not surprised to see she's a hexenbiest; of course he's had fair warning. Sometime in the intervening week or so since I have last seen him, he's figured it out for certain, or she's told him. I wonder if he confronted her with it, tired of being played a fool.

"What do you want?" he asks harshly, and Adalind's eyes flick to him before returning to me warily.

"I need to speak with you," I tell him, and he puts his hands on his hip and holster.

"It will have to wait," he says with annoyance, turning his attention back to Adalind and the baby she's trying to quiet. She's shushing him with gentle sounds, hands smoothing over what appears to be hair dark like Nick's, or it will be, perhaps, once it's all grown in. She places a soft kiss against the chubby cheek and the baby looks at his father as Adalind rocks him gently from side to side.

The child has to be about nine months old now, I think, noting the startling likeness to Nick. It has to make it easier, the child looking like him and not the mother.

"It can't wait," I tell him, pulling my attention away from the baby, and Nick turns his head back to me in aggravation and Adalind watches him closely. He opens his mouth to say something, to lash out, when Adalind interrupts whatever torrent he was about to let loose.

"Nick," she says quietly, bouncing the baby a little and he turns his attention back to her reluctantly and I realize how strong the hold is she has over him. The baby makes a noise, and Nick reaches a hand out to touch him, the gesture unbelievably gentle despite the anger that was coursing through him a moment ago. He loves his son, there's no denying that. There had never been any question how devoted a father Nick would be when the time came and he started having children.

She looks at him, something wordless passing between them that punches me in the gut. There's no doubt as to how she feels for Nick either. She loves him, I see, and though he may not be able admit it, the deference he just gave her, the look he gives her in return, shows he feels the same way.

Whatever happened in the last ten days has eroded away some of the confusion and hesitancy he has about her and their relationship. What it is is starting to take shape in his mind. He's starting to put a name to it, and not shy away from it. He nods slightly, and Adalind sighs, relieved, placing another kiss on the baby's cheek. The baby looks at her and smiles, a happy gurgle, and laughs a little as he pulls his foot away from Nick's hand.

Nick doesn't smile, but that emotional response is there in his eyes, the look of adoration and love, and protectiveness he feels for his child.

"Rosalee," Nick says, and I glance at her, noting she's been watching me and not the baby or Nick and Adalind. Rosalee turns her attention back to Nick and Nick turns to her, ignoring me. "Take Adalind and Kelly back to the loft," Nick instructs and Rosalee nods as Adalind protests.

Kelly. It's a jolt to hear the name spoken. He named the baby after his mother, of course. The same woman whose death I arranged, and it's an unforgivable sin, but he's forgiven Adalind for many more.

I look at the child again, looking like Nick, who in turns looks like his mother. The baby will always bear the name as a memorial to Nick for what he lost. His mother. What I took away from him.

"I can take care of myself," Adalind interjects, "I don't need Rosalee as a babysitter," but it's said without any real heat, and Nick flashes a look at her as he shakes his head, and she demurs. If she's in full possession of her powers she'll be capable of mounting a decent defense, a scenario Nick's apparently not willing to risk.

"I don't want you and Kelly there alone with everything that's going on," Nick says and my interest catches at his comment.

"Rosalee has the shop-" Adalind starts to point out and Rosalee interrupts.

"It's okay, I'm just about done for the day. If you can give me a half hour to close up?" she asks Adalind, glancing at Nick, and Nick nods reluctantly. Adalind gives Rosalee an apologetic look and Rosalee smiles and heads back up the stairs to start closing.

"Give me a minute," he says brusquely and I realize the comment is directed at me, though he's looking at Adalind and his son.

"I need to speak with you now," I remind him, realizing he wants a moment alone with her. He sighs in frustration and turns back to me.

"So talk, say your piece and get the hell out," he barks, the look on his face darkening as he looks at me resentfully.

"Alone," I add, looking over his shoulder at Adalind and she narrows her eyes. He moves as though he's going to march over to me, get in my face, when Adalind raises a hand and places it on his arm, holding him to her. There's possessiveness in the way she touches him, mingling with the familiarity and intimacy. Her fingers curl lightly around his bicep as she shifts the weight of the child against one hip. He doesn't shrug her off. Their dynamic is fascinating, particularly in light of their violent history, and the incredibleness of seeing it almost overcomes the numbing pain and anger I feel witnessing it.

He takes a deep breath, re-centering himself again and says in a low voice, "You can either say it here, right now, or you can go upstairs and give me five minutes, but if you expect me to stand here and listen you better pick one in the next five seconds."

I stare back unaffectedly through a count of four before turning to head back up the stairs.

"You have three minutes," I tell him, and he rolls his eyes as he watches me depart. Adalind scoffs lightly and I see her shake her head out of the corner of my eyes before I am standing once again on the main floor. I tune my attention to what they're saying below me, glad to note Rosalee is busy with a couple of customers.

"She's unbelievable," I hear Adalind say to Nick and Nick snorts in agreement.

"Forget about her," he says and it's a testament to their focus on each other that they appear to do just that.

"Nick, what are we going to do?" she asks him, and I realize she's referencing whatever topic they were discussing before my arrival interrupted him.

"We'll talk about it when I get home," Nick said, and clearly Nick isn't dense to the fact I can and am most likely listening to them. There's some very quiet muttering, too low for me to make out what Nick is saying to her, likely a warning about being overheard.

"Nick," Adalind whispers, there's a rustle of noise and I catch a glimpse of them in an embrace through the upstairs doorway, the baby between them, drooling over Nick's shoulder as Nick holds Adalind close to him. Her fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and it's so familiar, as though she holds and touches him all the time.

"It'll be okay," Nick promises. "We'll figure it out," and I wonder if he's referring to the fact she's a hexenbiest now and how it will affect them. He made much the same promise before, but it never amounted to much of anything. What I had become was beyond what he could figure out or deal with. "I guess I should find out what's so important it can't wait five minutes," Nick mutters and I hear the rustle of fabric as they disengage.

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It's quiet between us as Nick reviews the documents I've brought him. He stares at them in consternation, not surprising really, as they're so redacted as to be impossible to understand. The number of files like it Nick's read in his career could probably be counted on one thumb.

"She told you," I remark and Nick tenses his jaw and keeps reading. "Her powers are back."

"So what?' he says after a moment. "It was a suppressant. It's not like we didn't know her powers would return."

Yes, it's not like you didn't, I think. I wonder then what made it seem like a good idea to pursue a relationship with her. The child could explain the cordiality, but the intimacy—he made a conscious decision to allow that to happen with her.

I wonder what he thinks the relationship will be like with her now that she's back to her old self. How long the romance will last?

How he can survive his life blowing apart for a second time.

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thoughts?