This fanfiction is taking place in Season Four: Mr. Monk gets Jury Duty, and since this is focused around Randy and Natalie (yippee!), we won't be following Mr. Monk around while he solves cases like tic-tac-toe. Unfortunately. :) But I hope you'll enjoy this regardless.

I would also like to add that this fanfiction contains an unusual and unfamiliar, on my part, amount of fluff… I hate fluff but I didn't want anyone to be out of character and a relationship between the two would demand at least some amount of fluff so if you are one of those people who don't like fluff, please try to bear with me here because it'll be worth it.


Randy leaned his weight onto the soles of his feet to his toes, rocking back and forth with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his gray- half ironed pants which he couldn't find the time to iron completely because of the phone that started ringing which he never answered because of the television which he mistook as the ring of the phone- he was in need for some serious order.

He chuckled a bit at his thought, in the end that's why Lieutenant Disher was here. In the home of Natalie Teeger.

He recapped a bit, scratching his head, and going through his thoughts. He wasn't at her home for a sweet home dinner date, though he wished. Hell, he wasn't even there for a friendly dinner date.

Lieutenant Disher was there, at the house of Natalie Teeger, because- well, lets just look back a bit.

Cars and passers-by impeded, overwhelmed by the speeding blurs of police officers and perpetrator before the twirling scarlet Chinese lanterns and reflective store windows that illustrated the perfectly still image of the San Francisco bridge, so different in comparison to the presently wild China Town.

Among these police officers were the lieutenant and captain, way ahead of the panting, tired officers. Sweaty from running after possibly the fastest man on Earth.

And so, before them, Lieutenant Disher, his gray suit and tie blowing as he raced the buses and halting vehicles. Holding a walkie-talkie before his mouth. "This is Disher! Requesting for back-up!" He hopped over the hood of a black mobile. "I repeat, we need back up!" They turned a corner, knocking over a bicycle.

He turned back and glared at it.

Jesus!

He just wasn't in his game. Thoughts in his head rattled the whole time (more than usually). His brain, like a silver coin, twirling and revealing nonstop two important sides that consumed his mind. One side had the image of his badge and that damn perp who would not stop running, the other side reflected the beautiful letters of Natalie's name.

God, today was supposed to be the day. I'll be lucky if I end up with 2 minutes to spare with her.

The perpetrator knocked over a basket of apples, rattling some peaceful civilians. He had nothing to do now but run.

Lieutenant Disher continued, jumping over the bruised apples. "Perp is wearing a beige suit and purple shirt. Well, at least, I think it's purple. It may be lavender or mauve." His brain was more muddled than usual.

"Randy, nobody cares about the shirt!" The captain looked over his shoulder to roar.

Meanwhile, Mr. Monk and Natalie paced down a street of China town.

"Mr. Monk, we're all the way in China Town, can't we at least take a cab?" Natalie groaned, following Mr. Monk with her black bag held close to her chest and her lively blonde hair blowing by her face beautifully, flowing before her vibrant, ocean blue eyes.

"No, we can't ride a taxi. He's expecting it." Mr. Monk paused to whisper viciously.

Natalie frowned. "Mr. Monk, he's a mailman!" She reached from behind her and pulled out a half folded letter. "Who dropped one piece of mail. And they're electric bills! We could be doing someone a favor."

"They'll thank me later."

Natalie groaned.

But suddenly, the faint sound of police sirens.

"What's that?" Natalie paused.

The same two notes, switching and humming back and forth, its volume increasing by the second, and the light becoming more an d more visible 'round the street corner.

But before the vehicle, a man in a beige suit and purple blouse stormed through and against fruit baskets and baby carriages. He was racing towards them. At least this writer thinks it was purple. It may be lavender or mauve.

Natalie turned her head, her eyes caught and fused with the scorching hazel pupils of the unlikable doer. Who was, now more than ever, too close for safety.

"Stop!" The captain growled, keeping up from behind him.

"Halt!" The lieutenant followed.

The perpetrator growled at the sound of them. Two cars at his side and buildings to his other. Trapped, eh? And what's this? People are in my way. And lookie here, one of them just so happens to be a lady.

He grinned.

A pistol appeared from his back pocket, he swerved, grabbing hold of Natalie's shoulder from in front.

Aw, great, he's got a hostage! Sweet, Randy, just sweet. You would have caught the bastard if you weren't so caught up with—

The doer turned.

"Natalie!"

They halted.

She yelped, her neck was caught before his elbow and his arm was locked secure. His pistol was placed at her temple.

"Let her go!" The lieutenant pulled out his gun and aimed it at his head.

"Get away, or she gets it!." He chuckled. "Put the gun down!"

"Don't shoot, Escobar!"

"Everybody relax!" The captain chimed in, his hand out to keep crowd control.

"Kinda hard, don't you think?" Natalie winced.

My, god, she could underestimate these guys!

"Shut up!"

"Don't talk to her like that!" Disher took a sharp step forward.

Mr. Monk was slowly walking backwards.

"You!" Escobar pointed at Mr. Monk with his gun.

"Wh-huh?" Mr. Monk hummed.

"Get down! On the ground!"

"Y-you don't want to do that." Natalie groaned.

Mr. Monk let out his hands and stared at the ground for a few seconds before putting them away. "Here's the thing—"

"Now!" He fired one shot in the air, everybody winced and covered their ears at pure fright.

"Let her go!" The lieutenant lowered his gun, ready to charge after him but the Captain let out his hands in front.

"First put down the gun!"

Randy's eyes met with hers. His fist was white with how tightly he held his gun.

"Lieutenant, relax." The captain persisted.

Relaxrelaxrelax—how can I!

"Yeah, relax Lieutenant." Escobar cackled.

Disher's finger on the trigger tightened, he swore the shot would have been pulled but-

As quick the pistol shot would have been, Natalie Teeger instantly lifted her elbow and dropped it like anchor, piercing Escobar's stomach like a steak through a vampire.

The captain ran and grabbed Escobar's flying hand and threw it behind him. Natalie kicked off the pavement, jumping into the lieutenant's arms who was quite quick to catch her.

"My god, that really is him! Miguel Escobar! He's like, the most wanted man in America." A pedestrian exclaimed.

"Not anymore he isn't." The captain leered.

Escobar's face turned sour, he glared in the direction of Natalie Teeger, sending vicious vibes in her direction that caught her like a lasso. She turned her head back at him.

"Call my fiancée, tell her the wedding is still on. I'll be out in no time. Mark my words. And when I do, I'll finish off everything I started- especially that chick." He snarled in her direction.

Leaving behind his dangerous venom in the minds of everyone at the scene.

The lieutenant's arms, still protectively wrapped around Natalie.

"Oh my god." Natalie looked up at him. "Did he mean that?"

Disher's eyes were glued to Escobar, as his head was pushed into the car and his very figure vanishing behind the violet window glass.

Mr. Monk crossed the scene. "My—my god. Did you see the way he." He looked up. "—threatened me?"

They sighed.

Two weeks later, Randy sat by his desk. His feet up and his arms behind his head. His tiny T.V at his side but it wasn't turned on. A cop to his right was moaning and groaning about turning to channel 8 but the lieutenant couldn't hear a word he was saying. He was much too busy re-thinking the time he had lost, what with chasing Escobar and what not. He'd have to find another time to ask Natalie out. Maybe during a case with Monk? Nah, it'd be weird with a dead body laying at their side.

Then suddenly,

"Son of a bitch, Lapides! Special agent my ass." The captain knocked over a chair.

The captain's growl could be heard throughout the entire police department. Randy stood up and straightened his tie, coughing slightly, feeling it obligatory that he deal with the captain immediately.

"Captain?" He peeked his head in.

Stottlemeyer sat on his desk, agitatedly chewing on a tooth pick. A moment of silence before he threw his fist against the wood. "Baby sitting, he says? Well we let the 'real' pros handle it." He scoffed. "Randy, Escobar escaped."

One call, a side conversation of small talk, a fight with Monk to get him to stop harassing the cleaning lady: Gladys later…

"What!" Natalie stood up from the seat of the Captain's office.

The captain paced the floor with his hands in his pocket and the toothpick still being chewed in his mouth while Mr. Monk straightened out the blinds.

All the while, the lieutenant leaned against the captain's desk, arms folded and in deep thought and frustration.

"He wouldn't really come after me, would he?"

"You can't take that risk." The lieutenant stood up.

Stottlemeyer sighed. "He's not only a thief but a murderer, tough guys throw threats around like litter but I think it'd be best if we took precautions on Escobar. Don't you?"

"He's out on the streets as we speak." The lieutenant spoke as if speaking to himself.

"I've got to call Julie's school," Natalie stood up and reached into her purse.

"That's a good idea, get her safe at home."

"Wait, wait, wait. Natalie, will Julie be following us around along with the police officers?" Mr. Monk turned around.

"Monk, what are you talking about?"

"I have Jury Duty." He said half disappointedly and half expectedly.

"Well, I'm sorry Mr. Monk, you'll have to go yourself." Natalie shrugged.

Timber!

"What?" Mr. Monk spoke with deep, deep, deep, deep tragedy. Mr. Monk then moved on, speaking out his thoughts of disapproval while Natalie debated with him, bringing up constantly the safety of her offspring.

"Captain?" The lieutenant took this busy opportunity to stand up straight and address the older police man. Stottlemeyer graciously turned to listen. "I think I should guard Natalie until Escobar's been found."

Natalie rolled her eyes from the side conversation between her and Mr. Monk, deciding to ignore him. She caught the last few words the lieutenant had said and smiled sweetly. "Oh, Randy, you don't have to do that."

"That's right, you're not using your sick days to lay around Natalie's house. You are still on duty."

"Yes! If Randy's guarding Natalie, we can all just go to Jury Duty together. Hey, why not get me out of Jury Duty. You know- just to make things—" He whispered. "Less complicated." Mr. Monk smiled innocently.

"Monk, you are going to Jury duty!"

Natalie stepped out of the room to speak with Julie's principal.

"Captain, please." Randy begged.

"Nope."

"Captain, when have I ever disobeyed an order?"

"Nice try." The captain moved on, ready to sit back by his desk. "Listen, I know you want to keep Natalie safe, heck we all do. A couple of police officers will do the job fine. And with you on the case, we'll find Escobar twice as fast."

His insides groaned, that was bullshit. If anything he'd slow down the process of finding the perp.

"But if he does find Natalie's home, they wont know him like we do. They haven't researched or talked, or chased, or saw threaten Natalie like I have."

A long sigh,

"At the end of the day, Natalie is my- our, main concern- Natalie's life is our main concern."

The captain laughed a bit at this, Randy's feelings were becoming more and more and more obvious. For Natalie not to realize this, she was either so SMART that she could fake not realizing- or just the perfect match for him. "Fine."

And so here he was. Standing in her kitchen, rocking back and forth like an idiot with nothing to do but stare at her perfect cupboards and photos on the fridge with half ironed pants and his lieutenant badge crookedly placed on his belt.

You'd think he'd pay more special attention to his exterior since his feelings for Natalie were as strong as it has been written but he knew she paid more attention to the inside of a person.

"You thirsty, Randy?" Natalie said.

"Oh, no, uh, I just ate, thanks." Randy smiled goofily, later realizing that 'ate' and 'thirsty' weren't exactly connected. He sighed. Maybe his 'inside' wasn't exactly appealing. "Uh, yeah thirsty, sure!"

Natalie smiled sweetly. "Help yourself to some coffee if you want."

Randy nodded, making a pained facial expression as he turned away from her.

Pull it together, Disher. I've never been this frustrated and nervous in my life! And that's not something a cop gets to admit everyday.

His stance changed at his neck, his head turned directing Natalie but still close enough to the wall so he could turn back in time for her to glance back at him. And while Natalie elegantly pulled off her sweater and placed it to the side, the boiling coffee poured above the rim of the mug.

The steaming liquid blanketed his wrist and jacket sleeve. His eyes shot open and his stance stiffened like a spike. "Ah!" He jerked up, throwing the mug onto the table and flung his hand downwards.

Natalie stood up from the seat and grit her teeth, sucking in air with a hiss watching him painfully. "Oh, Randy."

"Ah!" He grabbed his hand and started to jump. "Can you- get those wipes you have all the time!" He couldn't help raising his voice.

She cocked her eye brow. "Got it, got it." She groaned, pulling out a hanky and handing it to him.

He grabbed it and took of his jacket, rubbing it against his dampened brown blouse.

Natalie gave the same disturbed look and interrupted. "That's not how you do it." She moved his hand aside, he watched her oddly. She held the cuffs of the sleeve and neatly, evenly, folded it exactly 5 times up to his elbow and slid the fabric gently upon the skin of his soft arm.

"You know. I'm not really as stupid as I seem." Randy said while she tapped the napkin on his arm.

"I'm not as mechanical as you think I am." Natalie put the napkin back in her purse.

"What?" Randy cocked an eye brow.

"Oh, come on." She said with a small laugh. "Blonde assistant, always handy with a handkerchief." Her expression softened. "Not so attractive."

She can't be serious.

"Natalie, I don't think you're mechanical. If anything, you're elegant and humane. Julie is a great kid because you're her mom, Monk's a terrific detective because you're there to take position on every question or worry." He could hardly believe he was actually blabbing on about this. This! Months of self reflections, contemplations, thoughts. "Which is why I'm so thankful that you're Monk's assistant. Because, whenever you're around... Everything becomes balanced. And peaceful. And right. Natalie, I think you're amazing."

Natalie stood in awe, she still watched Randy's soaked arm but he could see that her face. She was in awe and he could have sworn her eyes were even glowing.

"Mom?" Julie called from upstairs.

Randy straightened himself up, fixing his sleeve as Natalie did the same.

"Yes, honey?"

Julie walked into the kitchen and greeted the lieutenant.

The two muffled down a heat in their cheeks and cleared their throats.