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Rating: K+

A/N: Read and review and I'll supply you with wipes forever, thank you!

Sharona Fleming stood next to the reception desk at the New Jersey State Hospital. She was trying to fill in a form that needed finishing before she could move onto the next patient. The A+E department had been busy that night and the blonde couldn't wait to get home and go to bed. Of course, the night shift didn't end until 6am so it was going to be a long wait.

She sighed as the phone rang at the reception desk. She kept her eyes on the paper before looking up after a few rings. She looked around for the receptionist...there was normally two on duty but there didn't appear to be anyone there. She looked down to the form again, she wasn't the receptionist, she wasn't going to answer it. It rang and as Sharona tried to concentrate more the louder the phone sounded. With one last sigh and a quick look around her she slammed her pen down and reached over the desk.

"Hello?" She all but snapped.
"Hi, this is Sergeant Campbell from the San Francisco Police Department."

She was sure her heart stopped right then. San Francisco? Why were they calling her? Or actually...why weren't they calling her? They were calling the hospital...
Did they know she worked there...
Okay. So maybe she was getting ahead of herself. It wasn't about her. It was a police department and this was a hospital, it happened all the time. Emergency services contact each other...that's just what they do.
Still...SFPD.
No. Sharona. No.

"Ma'am?"
"Sorry, please, go on."

She heard paper rustling but the police officer spoke straight away, she knew he didn't need the paper or file or whatever it was.

"We're putting out an APB on a missing person..."
"From San Francisco?" She interrupted.
"Yes Ma'am."
"Must be a very important person."

She heard the police officer chuckle.

"Oh he is, you don't know how many hospitals and police stations I've called tonight."

She smiled, she liked this police officer.

"Hang on, I'll get something to write down the information and I'll get everyone aware."
"Thank you."

She held the phone between her ear and shoulder and quickly found a scrap of paper to go with pen she had discarded moments before.

"Okay..."
"Okay...we're looking for a man of average height, white, short dark hair. He was last seen in a brown suit with a light shirt. We believe he may have been hurt and we don't know what kind of condition he might be in. Now, it's a long shot that we'll find him in a hospital but as I said, we don't know if he's hurt or how badly. We don't know how likely it'll be that he's in New Jersey but if he's disorientated we believe he could have gone to find an old friend who moved there a couple of years ago. If a person who could fit the description does turn up you can phone your local police station or phone this number. I'd like to repeat that this is a very serious case..."

Sharona interrupted again.

"Is he dangerous?" She asked.
"No!" The officer seemed to laugh again. "No, he's not. This comes from the top."

She knew what that meant. It did sound serious.

"Okay, I have all that..."
"I appreciate your time Ma'am."

Her eyes swept over the description, there was something missing.

"Wait." She said. "This man, does he have a name?"
"Monk." The officer said. "Adrian Monk."

She nearly dropped the phone. She nearly fainted. If she had known which of the actions to do first she would have hit the deck, phone and all.

"Adrian Monk?"
"That's right Ma'am, thank you for your time."

He hung up, leaving Sharona listening to the dialling tone.
Adrian.
Was missing?
She looked back to the description, hooking the phone back on it's holder.
It all made sense. The dark hair, the suits. Missing. He was missing? How did that happen? She suddenly felt a pang of guilt. She had left him with nobody. All alone. Sure he had The Captain, Lieutenant Disher, Dr Kruger but he didn't have someone there, all the time. He needed someone like that. He needed her. She had wondered, throughout the years if he had found someone, to look after him. She had thought about calling but she never had the right words. What if he had been mad at her? Disappointed? She had left so suddenly. She regretted it. She did. She knew what kind of person he was. Trudy had left him...not that she had had a choice and then she had left him.

She rested her elbows on the desk and dropped her head into her hands. She had three hours left on duty. Would he really turn up? Was it better that she was at the hospital? Or at home? He didn't even know where she lived though..
She looked up at the clock hanging on the wall behind the reception desk. Three hours. She looked down at the description. Right.