A/N: Okay, so this is my first attempt at a Grimm story, so go easy on me, folks. :D

I started watching Grimm last year (on line) but ended up not keeping up with it and then my interest was recently piqued when I saw Renard and Juliette getting a bit heated. I think SR is gorgeous, because, well, I'm not blind and I'm thrilled he's being featured more in the show. Plus, I love the dark, twisty guys with obsessive love stories – they're my faves. :D I know things are going to end badly between Renard and Juliette and I guess she's going to go back to Nick (who's very cute and sweet, but a little too vanilla for my tastes ;) ), so I'm going to take what I can get, while I can get it.

Basically the last couple of weeks has been me catching up on all the episodes so I could get into the R/J stuff. So, I'm on Grimm overload. LOL I've only just watched 'The Other Side' episode which is my fave so far.

A guy watching you shower without you knowing it... creepy.

Sasha Roiz doing it and you not knowing it... a lost opportunity I say. ;)

Anyways, I've had three stories, well, four really, but we'll stick with three for now, pop into my head about what I think are the most chemistry laden characters.

I'm loving the Nick/Monroe/Hank dynamic and have two short stories in my head for them which are a bit of fun. They play around a bit with the comedy aspect on the show and I get this is meant to be a drama fantasy, but damn, Monroe is just too fantastic a character not to have a little fun with. If there is interest in this little ficlet, I'll probably post those two other stories as well. But I'm going with this one first and it stars Renard and Monroe because again, I was intrigued by their chemistry in the scenes they shared together in the last episode I watched. I don't know what is going to happen next (don't tell me, I want to be surprised :D ) but this is kind of an extension of that episode where Renard goes to Monroe for a cure.

And, if by chance, there are any readers of my Avengers fic reading this, don't fret, I haven't given up on the Magnificent Octopus, I just needed to get these characters out of my head to clear a little room. It's kinda crowded up there at the minute, standing room only.

Okay, enough from me, let's see what you make of this...

Desperate Times

Chapter One

"Thank you for doing this."

The elevator doors closed as Monroe looked over at the man standing beside him at the sound his gruff words. It wasn't often he didn't have to look down to address someone. At 6 '3, Monroe was a tall guy, but the man standing next to him was probably a good inch taller. The man was staring at the elevator doors ahead of them, his jaw hardened in grim determination to see this through. Monroe gave a lop-sided smile. "No problem, man, I'm happy to help. I know you're in a bind."

The man with the dark hair just starting to pepper with grey, glanced over at him. "Are you sure this person can help me?"

"No," said Monroe honestly, "but she's the best chance you've got."

The man looked away and nodded slowly, retreating back into silence as the elevator took them to their destination.

"Lorelai is an old friend of mine," offered up Monroe. "She's an expert in these of spells. It's kind of a family business."

"She's a witch, some kind of hexenbiest?"

It was interesting to Monroe that the concept didn't seem to faze the other man. "Not exactly. Lorelai is a Soldul-Deținător."

The man frowned, looking at him in vague surprise. "A Balance-Keeper, here in Portland?"

"Yeah, well, she doesn't spread it around. That's how the whole balance thing works. They work behind the scenes to keep everything in check."

"Pentru a găsi calea, chiar," he murmured, almost to himself.

Monroe's eyebrows shot up. "Okay, so, you know their motto."

"As do you," responded the man coolly. "To find the even path."

Monroe gave a little nod of his head. "Yeah, that's right." He couldn't help but stare. "Your Romanian is pretty good."

"It's serviceable," said the man dismissively. "I thought that the Soldurl had all but died out."

"There are a few family lines still out there. Lorelai is the last of hers."

"If memory serves, they draw their powers from the energy of the dead. They usually have a fantomă attached to them to allow access to the power they need to maintain balance in this world."

Monroe nodded again. "Yup, a ghost and for Lorelai, that'd be her mom, Leala." He wrinkled his nose. "She's a real pistol." Monroe grimaced. "Leala died when Lorelai was eight and they've been working together ever since."

The man's tawny eyes were on him. "You've met the fantomă?"

"Yeah, sometimes Leala body jacks Lorelai to have a little fun. She misses her corporal form and let me tell you, that girl knows how to party and then some. I could tell you some stories but I'm trying to repress a lot of that stuff these days. "

The man frowned. "Is she unstable?"

"In every sense of the word," confirmed Monroe without hesitation.

"Does Lorelai have control over her mother?" The man was looking at him intently. "This situation is bad enough, I don't want any unstable spells added into the mix."

"Lorelai is the most competent Soldul-Deținător I know."

"How many do you know?"

Monroe pursed his lips. "Technically, just the one."

"That's not exactly a ringing endorsement."

"Hey, I wouldn't be doing this if I thought you had other options."

The man looked away as the elevator doors opened. "I know."

The two of them stepped out into the corridor. "Lorelai's apartment is the one at the end," Monroe directed him. "I'll introduce you." He stopped walking suddenly.

The man stopped as well and looked back at him. "What?"

"I don't know your name."

The man didn't miss a beat. "John Smith."

Monroe smiled. "Ah, you're going old school. You can't beat the classics."

"Can we hurry this up?" asked John impatiently.

"Got somewhere to be?" Monroe kept walking. "Don't tell me, you're planning on driving by your lady love's house a few hundred times before bed time?"

John didn't answer, just kept walking, muscle ticking in his cheek.

Monroe easily kept up, the advantage of excessively long legs. "Hit a nerve, huh? How bad is it getting? Drive bys, ringing and hanging up, pictures, lurking in her bushes."

John sent him a look and quickly looked away.

"Ah man," said Monroe sympathetically, "there's lurkage already, that's not a good sign."

"I know that," he said sharply. "Why do you think I want this monkey off my back so badly?"

They were at the door and Monroe sighed. "I know, dude, that's why I brought you here." He went to knock on the door and then hesitated. Shooting a curious look the other man's way, Monroe couldn't help himself. "So, just to be clear, and this is in no way a judgement on my behalf, but are we talking an actual monkey here, or a figurative one that we're dealing with?"

John looked torn between annoyance and frustration. "It's a woman," he snapped.

"A woman monkey?" asked Monroe, nodding understandingly.

"No," John bit out, "a woman, woman. A woman with long auburn hair and-". He stopped abruptly, and closed his eyes, obviously finding conjuring up a mental image of the object of his desire difficult to deal with.

"Orang-utans have long red hair," pointed out Monroe.

The man looked like he was barely hanging onto his self-control. "It's. Not. A. Monkey," he ground out from behind clenched teeth.

Monroe held up his hands in a pacifying fashion. "Dude, chill, like I said, no judgement here. It's a woman, Mazel Tov, good for you."

"And an orang-utan isn't a monkey, it's an ape," continued on tersely.

"Oh, I didn't know that." Monroe scratched his chest absently. "I don't like watching Animal Planet, it makes me hungry."

"Of course it does, you're a Blutbad."

"I'm on the wagon, man," protested Monroe. "I've been vegan for years."

John's lips were thinned into an angry line, obviously not interested. "Can we get this over and done with, please?"

"Sure, sure," said Monroe easily. "I need to be getting back to the shop anyway. I'm on my lunch hour."

"So am I."

"What do you do?" asked Monroe brightly. The other man just stared at him with those disconcerting eyes, clearly not going to answer. "Oh, okay," said Monroe hastily, "I get it, you're not big on the sharing. That's cool." He lifted his hand to knock on the door but his first knock had the door swinging open of its own accord. Monroe felt the man tense beside him and he felt a little on edge himself. "Well, that's not a good sign." His hackles rose of their own accord as he stepped into the apartment, preparing himself for whatever this might be...

A/N: So what did you think, guys? Intrigued, bored, want more, read enough? Let me know. My Grimm lore is a bit shaky, but I'm doing my best. :)