Title: The Perils of Smuggling Peas
Fandom: Grimm
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nick/Monroe
Summary: “I can’t believe you got stopped at customs for having peas in your suitcase.”
Word Count: 375
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.

“I can’t believe you got stopped at customs for having peas in your suitcase.”

“I wasn’t supposed to get stopped. How did they know about my secret compartment? It’s professionally made.”

“You had someone put a secret compartment in your suitcase just to smuggle peas? You do know you can buy them at the supermarket, right?”

“Not this kind. These are a special variety of yellow split pea that only grows on this one moutainside in northern India. They don’t taste anything like the ones in the store. Not that you’ll ever be able to know now, since they stole them from me.”



“I’m sorry they took your peas. But, to be honest, they all taste the same to me.”

“That’s because you’re a food philistine.”

“I’m not a philistine. I’m normal. You just have ridiculous taste buds or something.”

“Possessing the ability to distinguish the nuances of flavor is a virtue you should aspire to, not something to be laughed at. Like I said: philistine.”

“Fine. I withdraw my sympathies.”

“You can’t withdraw sympathies. That’s like giving a kid candy and then snatching it from their hand just when they’re about to eat it.”

“You can’t demand sympathies while insulting people.”

“I’m not insulting you. I’m simply stating a fact. And I’m not demanding. You offered me the sympathies of your own free will and now you’re taking them from me, just like the custom official took my peas. You’re supposed to be on my side. What kind of boyfriend are you?”

“Alright. I’m sorry. I’m heartbroken that they took your peas. I’m sure they were delicious.”

“They were. Not that you’ll ever know now.”

“Wait. Was this supposed to be… You weren’t going to make me something special, were you? Oh, Monroe.”

“It’s fine. You probably wouldn’t have noticed the difference, anyway.”

“Of course I would have noticed. I love your food. Now I feel bad.”

“Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

“I really am sorry they took your peas.”

“Thank you.”

“Want me to kiss it better?”

“Yes, please.”


“Um, Nick?”


“Not that I don’t appreciate this and all, but shouldn’t you not be trying to blow me in a car in a public parking lot?”

“Oh. Right.”


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