Fourteen Moments on February Fourteenth

6:00 a.m.

Nick awoke early, earlier than he should have. There was no reason for him to, but he had, and a small smile played along his lips now. He rolled over in bed, lips ready to form around a "Happy Valentines Day" for Juliette, but his girlfriend wasn't in bed next to him. Frowning, he raised his head. All was quiet in his house. Juliette must have gone to work early, or on an emergency. Resisting a sigh, he dropped his head back to his pillow and lulled himself back to sleep.

8:30 a.m.

Monroe stared at the front page of the newspaper, choking down his distaste for the pink-saturated header. Valentines Day. He'd never really liked Valentines Day. He'd always been too socially awkward for anything like giving romantic gifts and he didn't like a day that was dedicated to it specifically. It was a waste of a perfectly good day, if you asked him, and he was just getting tired of seeing all the pink and red (that really made it bad) and cutesy cutesy plushies and chocolates. Huffing, he tossed the damp newspaper aside, letting his attention back fade to his clocks instead.

9:02 a.m.

Nick had the day to himself. He was watching TV, head propped up on his hand and eyes flickering from the window back to the screen periodically. There wasn't a case- yet. It was Valentine's Day, after all, so who knew what kind of crimes of passion would occur. He looked back to the TV to catch an ad for pizza, heart-shaped. His lips twitched towards a smile. However, he wasn't about to buy heart-shaped pizza, much less for only himself. He realized how sad it was, really, to have a girlfriend and still be alone on Valentines Day.

1:37 p.m.

Monroe flinched when his phone rang, nearly dropping the pair of tweezers in his hand. He was already on edge enough; he knew he really shouldn't work on these clocks for the whole day, but they were important to finish. And extremely touchy, as was any clock. Sighing, he checked the screen of his cell without much curiosity. Honestly, who else would be calling him?

1:40 p.m.

That could be one of the single handed most awkward things he'd done, Nick reasoned, as he hung up the phone after talking to Monroe. Hehad asked (invited) himself to dinner at the Blutbad's house. All he had been thinking was that they were both going to be alone (Juliette had called, frantically apologizing; she had to stay late) and that they could have dinner and a couple of beers. Monroe had made the remark about how it was Valentines, and Nick asking him to dinner made it sound all suspicious. Of course.

1:41 p.m.

Monroe was still laughing- Nick's reaction had been priceless. Well, what did he expect? He'd invited himself to a guy's house on Valentines Day. It did scream out suspicious, and he had pointed that out to Nick. Nick had been nearly as shocked as he was embarrassed, Monroe thought. Well, maybe his first response shouldn't have been "Are you asking me out on Valentines Day?", but for the life of him, he thought it was funny. He was still chuckling to himself as he grabbed his keys- if he was cooking dinner, it was time for a trip to the store.

3:58 p.m.

Nick had gotten the idea a little after an hour of milling about his house. Monroe wanted to mess with him; he could mess right back. And so, Nick'd make it a "date". He was pawing through his closet, looking for the one tuxedo that he actually owned (he'd been a best man, once). Nick liked to play practical jokes just as much as the next guy.

4:53 p.m.

Monroe was complaining- to himself, of course. He'd only realized it halfway through making stromboli and watching the cake rise in the oven: he was doing all of this for a Grimm. For a Grimm who'd invited himself over, with no invitation from the home owner. The Grimm who didn't offer to help cook dinner, or to bring anything, or to pay for the expenses. Why was he doing this? God, he was an idiot. Although, a small part of himself just whispered it was because he was lonely.

5:09 p.m.

Okay, he got that awkward feeling again. He didn't like tuxedos. They were too stifling. Much less in a convenience store. Maybe he should have went shopping before he changed into his fancy clothes, Nick reasoned. But then that would have involved going back home, and he planned on just going straight to Monroe's. Ignoring the gazes of people around him, he ran his fingers softly over the petals of the roses in his hand before heading to his car.

5:17 p.m.

The Blutbad was waiting anxiously for the Grimm, pacing the floors. Anxiously? Well, no, maybe that wasn't the right word. Maybe it was. He wanted company; that was all he knew. And he couldn't eat all the stromboli and chocolate cake himself. Besides, he made a mean chocolate cake. He just wanted to show off. That was probably it.

5:23 p.m

Monroe's face! Hilarious! Nick was leaning back against the doorframe of Monroe's entrance in his tuxedo, legs crossed at the ankles, holding a bouquet of bright pink roses to the Blutbad. Monroe's face was just all confusion and shock and it went about three different shades of pink before Monroe finally settled on anger and Nick was whisked into the house, listening to Monroe yammering on about what the neighbors would think. But really, it had been hilarious. He should have brought a camera.

5:46 p.m.

Stupid Grimm! And Monroe had gone to all the trouble of making all this nice stuff for dinner and Nick had to show up and literally make Monroe seem more in the closet than he already was. Being a reclusive Blutbad, he was already portrayed as weird. But now the handsome (Monroe guessed Nick was handsome; he really didn't use that word to describe other guys much) Grimm (who already showed up at his front door enough) showed up in a tuxedo and with flowers, and it just couldn't scream anything but boyfriends! to anyone but the two. Nick was nothing but trouble. However, trouble really did like Monroe's chocolate cake.

6:30 p.m.

After dinner and dessert was finished, Nick found himself seated comfortably on Monroe's couch, sipping at white Bordeaux, while the Blutbad filled Nick in on certain types of Wesen creatures. Not exactly pleasant talk, but useful nonetheless. Nick liked these moments with Monroe. They were informative and peaceful moments, something that got him away from the hectic atmosphere of police work, if only for a moment. Nick voiced his opinion on it- and his appreciation. Monroe had only looked at him strangely and told him he'd had enough to drink.

7:14 p.m.

Monroe walked Nick to the door, only half listening to the detective's idle talk about a past case. He didn't mind these moments, either, despite the fact that Nick never asked about anything else. But they'd discovered that the type of relationship they had going on right now was just fine; nothing more, nothing less. Talking less about cases and more about themselves tended to be awkward. So, Monroe went with the Grimm-o-pedia act. Nick had said he appreciated it. That was enough to make the Blutbad ready to invite the Grimm back. Someone, at least, appreciated what he was doing. That was a nice thing to think about. Even if he used chocolate cake as a bribe now and again.

Happy Valentines Day!

I managed to squeeze this out when I realized, right... have to celebrate in fanfiction terms as well. (Even though this is only a friendship fic.)

Hope you liked it! Please review and let me know what you think.