Title: I Recall the Memory of You
Author: DragonLady
Spoilers: Several of the episodes from season 1.
Disclaimer: Monk is the property of USA Network
and Mandeville Films.
Rating: G
I remember the first time I saw you. You had your boy, Benjy, with you. Your hair was up, small strands flying free. At the time, it annoyed me, my desire for neatness battled with my disturbance at touching another person. So to compromise, I asked you to fix it. I could tell my request bothered you a little, but you did it anyway.
At first, I wanted nothing to do with you. The last thing I wanted in my life was a nurse. I was especially frantic at the thought of your son handling anything of mine, or, ahhhh, touching me. But Benjy was very well behaved, and listened when you told him to wait for you in the car.
Over the next few months, I endured your visits, as I got used to living alone. I still remember the surprise I heard in your voice the first time I called you and asked you to come over. I couldn't find my stainless steel mixing bowl. I know it was late, 11p.m., but you drove over and found it for me. You stayed for the next three hours, and we talked.
As the years went by, my dependence on you grew to the point that I cannot go through a single day without seeing you, affirming myself through you.
Then the day came where I was given the chance to regain some of my lost life again. There had been a murder, and they asked for my, for our help.
I remember how good I felt when I pointed out details of the crime scene. They were so obvious they nearly glowed. I was amazed the other officers couldn't see it. I almost felt embarrassed as I pointed out the obvious. Later, though, as I was chasing that gunman up that really, really high fire escape. I still clench my teeth at the mixture of terror and shame I felt when I was forced to move my body to the side to let him pass me on the ladder; I was too frozen to move.
But then you were in danger.
I refuse to touch a table that hasn't been washed, recently. And yet, I crawled, more or less willingly into a sewer when a murderer dragged you down there. I dropped the gun I was carrying into water so filled with filth that it made my eyes water. But you screamed for me to do something, so I plunged my hand in, and retrieved
the gun, and saved your life. No problem, except I was shaking so hard I almost dropped the gun again.
That night I spent three hours in the shower.
I remember too, those times when you lose patience with me. You've officially quit six times since we met. I've never blamed you when you do, and I'm always amazed when you return. After all, it's not as though anything about me has changed to encourage you to do so.
In spite of my countless faults, you're always there, and you defend me like a mother bear when anyone criticizes me in your presence. I thought you were going to tear Captain Stottlemeyer's throat out when he told me he had recommended against my becoming an officer again.
That day, I started to lose faith.
And then, I nearly lost you again.
I still shudder at the thought of you, so high up in the air, and spinning, on that Ferris wheel. My God! And it was my fault you were up there to begin with. And then, that man appeared out of no where, clenching a knife in his hands. And he started coming after you.
What choice did I have?
I climbed up after you. I almost made it, when I slipped. I could feel the hard metal of the Ferris wheel biting into my hand, but I didn't care. All I could think about was you. After the perp had been arrested, you examined my hands, and insisted I go to the hospital to have those few minor cuts treated. I humored you and went.
When I'm alone, I can do nothing. But where you are concerned, there is nothing too hard. Already, I've walked through the deepest darkest hell and climbed the highest height for you. For you, I'd do anything, and I find that I'm.
"Adrian?"
Monk slammed his journal closed and quickly slid it into his desk. "Sharona, I didn't expect you so soon." Sharona grinned at her boss. "I don't know why, I told you I'd be here at three." Monk glanced at the wall clock. "It's three already?" Sharona smiled again. "Dare I ask what you were doing during the two hours since I called you?" Monk twitched his shoulder. "Ohh, uh, nothing, just sitting."
"Sitting?" "Yeah, sitting." Sharona nodded, not convinced, yet not willing to press a
pointless point. "Well, if you're ready." Monk nodded. "I'll just grab my sweater." As soon as he was out of the room, Sharona crept over to the desk.
For just a second, her hand hovered over the drawer where she'd seen him shove something. Then her hand dropped. She could never betray his trust that way. Quickly, she returned to her former place. Moments later, Monk reentered the room. "You ready?" Sharona nodded. "Let's go."
I remember the first time I saw you. You had your boy, Benjy, with you. Your hair was up, small strands flying free. At the time, it annoyed me, my desire for neatness battled with my disturbance at touching another person. So to compromise, I asked you to fix it. I could tell my request bothered you a little, but you did it anyway.
At first, I wanted nothing to do with you. The last thing I wanted in my life was a nurse. I was especially frantic at the thought of your son handling anything of mine, or, ahhhh, touching me. But Benjy was very well behaved, and listened when you told him to wait for you in the car.
Over the next few months, I endured your visits, as I got used to living alone. I still remember the surprise I heard in your voice the first time I called you and asked you to come over. I couldn't find my stainless steel mixing bowl. I know it was late, 11p.m., but you drove over and found it for me. You stayed for the next three hours, and we talked.
As the years went by, my dependence on you grew to the point that I cannot go through a single day without seeing you, affirming myself through you.
Then the day came where I was given the chance to regain some of my lost life again. There had been a murder, and they asked for my, for our help.
I remember how good I felt when I pointed out details of the crime scene. They were so obvious they nearly glowed. I was amazed the other officers couldn't see it. I almost felt embarrassed as I pointed out the obvious. Later, though, as I was chasing that gunman up that really, really high fire escape. I still clench my teeth at the mixture of terror and shame I felt when I was forced to move my body to the side to let him pass me on the ladder; I was too frozen to move.
But then you were in danger.
I refuse to touch a table that hasn't been washed, recently. And yet, I crawled, more or less willingly into a sewer when a murderer dragged you down there. I dropped the gun I was carrying into water so filled with filth that it made my eyes water. But you screamed for me to do something, so I plunged my hand in, and retrieved
the gun, and saved your life. No problem, except I was shaking so hard I almost dropped the gun again.
That night I spent three hours in the shower.
I remember too, those times when you lose patience with me. You've officially quit six times since we met. I've never blamed you when you do, and I'm always amazed when you return. After all, it's not as though anything about me has changed to encourage you to do so.
In spite of my countless faults, you're always there, and you defend me like a mother bear when anyone criticizes me in your presence. I thought you were going to tear Captain Stottlemeyer's throat out when he told me he had recommended against my becoming an officer again.
That day, I started to lose faith.
And then, I nearly lost you again.
I still shudder at the thought of you, so high up in the air, and spinning, on that Ferris wheel. My God! And it was my fault you were up there to begin with. And then, that man appeared out of no where, clenching a knife in his hands. And he started coming after you.
What choice did I have?
I climbed up after you. I almost made it, when I slipped. I could feel the hard metal of the Ferris wheel biting into my hand, but I didn't care. All I could think about was you. After the perp had been arrested, you examined my hands, and insisted I go to the hospital to have those few minor cuts treated. I humored you and went.
When I'm alone, I can do nothing. But where you are concerned, there is nothing too hard. Already, I've walked through the deepest darkest hell and climbed the highest height for you. For you, I'd do anything, and I find that I'm.
"Adrian?"
Monk slammed his journal closed and quickly slid it into his desk. "Sharona, I didn't expect you so soon." Sharona grinned at her boss. "I don't know why, I told you I'd be here at three." Monk glanced at the wall clock. "It's three already?" Sharona smiled again. "Dare I ask what you were doing during the two hours since I called you?" Monk twitched his shoulder. "Ohh, uh, nothing, just sitting."
"Sitting?" "Yeah, sitting." Sharona nodded, not convinced, yet not willing to press a
pointless point. "Well, if you're ready." Monk nodded. "I'll just grab my sweater." As soon as he was out of the room, Sharona crept over to the desk.
For just a second, her hand hovered over the drawer where she'd seen him shove something. Then her hand dropped. She could never betray his trust that way. Quickly, she returned to her former place. Moments later, Monk reentered the room. "You ready?" Sharona nodded. "Let's go."
