A/N: As we Monk fans all know, Adrian Monk and Trudy Ellison met as students on the Berkeley campus, circa 1980. As we also know, they were married in 1990. A full decade later.

So...

What happened, exactly? A decade of dating? A continuity error? I say...drama! (Hey, I'm a writer; what do you expect?)

And so, I humbly present to you my attempt at solving this mystery. A college-age Monk will investigate crimes, alphabetize books, fall in love, and...well, you'll just have to see, won't you?

Disclaimer: I do not own Monk or any of its characters, plotlines, etc.

Prologue

Rrring!

A chair scraped back on the worn wooden floor. The man reaching for the phone paused, circled the date on the calendar in front of him, then answered the call.

September 12, 1980.

"Varón, old friend. You've checked in early."

He circled the day again while his friend muttered something into the receiver.

September 12. September 12. He tapped the date hard with his pen."Speak up, I can't hear you. Our phones aren't state-of-the-art like you government officials are used to—ah. You have tallied the number. Let's hear it."

Silence.

The chair creaked as its occupant leaned forward into the desk. "Cut the dramatics and let's have it!"

A low, yet excited stream of Spanish followed.

In disbelief, he asked, "That's in millions?"

"Pues, sin contar las monedas antiguas que están en la caja—"

"English, please, Arturo. I have a date in San Francisco soon, if you recall." A low chuckle. "A date with a beautiful woman. Now, again. That's in millions?"

"Por cier—it is. To avoid suspicion, we should take it all before the end of the year. How is the work at the paper?"

"My day job is not as good as my real work, but I find it entertaining. I've found out much about the scandals of our occupiers. Besides, I already accepted that I would oversee this myself. The stake for me, it's…personal. You understand, you're in it, too. I just haven't yet found the right man for our dupe."

"Entiendo." There was a pause. "Actually, I'm not sure of that word…dupe?"

"Ah, you haven't been practicing your English lately. For us, it is one whose head is empty and whose hands want to be full."

"Full of money?"

"Or information. Either would serve to have him open the safe for us."

The man on the other end coughed, this betraying his age as his stern voice had not. "Gregorio?"

"Yes."

"You are only to watch her."

His pen dug a little deeper into the calendar date before he realized he might scratch the desk. The house was a sham, but the desk was nice.

"She is the only one who might guess. But I won't harm her, Arturo."

"Your word?"

"Mine as a gentleman of Euskadi."

"Fine, then."

"Shall I tell you how grateful I am?"

"I got the bottle of wine, Gregorio. And the watch. They were exquisite. But I would have helped without them."

"A true Basque patriot."

"Until Madrid?"

"Until then."

He knew that Arturo had hung up. But Gregorio sat there, dangling the receiver off the hook, eyes closed thoughtfully.

He had seen pictures of San Francisco, and he hoped it was all sunshine there, or at least as much as in Spain. The picture he had of Magda was old. She would have changed, and he wanted to make sure he marked her clearly when he met her.

Only to watch her. Of course.

Spanish professor, Gregorio mused. At Berkeley. Smart, so the odds are that she knows about what's inside the safe. She has a rich husband, though, so she might not care. Ugh, I'm glad I'm the one going. Who else could balance our difficult Arturo and this?

He glanced again at the date, and felt a pinch of hunger.

Gregorio stood up, looming over the small, lonely room with its rough wooden floor.

He looked at his rumbling belly ruefully.

I should eat something before I…oh, yes, right. The phone.

He hadn't hung up yet. His hands had been fiddling with the cord.

Gregorio looked down in surprise. In front of him, a shining black noose rested, perfect, on the table. His hands had twisted it while he'd been thinking.

He hadn't even noticed that he'd done it, this time.

"What you two get up to when I'm not looking," he said affectionately. "Imagine what would happen if I didn't rein you in?"

Down came the receiver, Bang!, and Gregorio went to his dinner with a laugh.

Thanks for reading (and reviewing, if you are so kind)! I hope that I whetted your appetite for the next installment.