Authors Note: No, I don't own Monk and I SO don't own Alan Rickman. That would be very nice but, alas, I don't. And no hard feelings for Ms. Rima, but she's the prime victim for a Monk episode starring Alan Rickman. And, seeing as how Mr. Rickman is rather private about his private life, I believe there is really a lot of room to play in, but should he ever read this, this is an inspired work, not a spiteful jab at his beloved from a jealous fan. 'Cos I don't play like that. Enjoy!
Schlink.
"Oh, bugger."
Rima Horton stooped and reached down for her keys as Alan watched with a smile.
"I think you dropped something," Alan said. Rima glared softly at him.
"Yes, yes, I know..." Rima put the keys into her pocket and playfully bumped him. Alan wrapped an arm around her and they made their way up the drive into the terrace apartment that had been given to them as he shot the new movie "Oh, How My Heart Weeps," romantic comedy due to start filming tomorrow here in sunny San Francisco, California. When they walked into the foyer, Alan grimaced at the high walls and they wandered together to explore for a while.
"People do enjoy these high ceilings, don't they?" he asked, his voice echoing across the walls.
Rima smiled. "Yes, I'm sure they do." They stopped in what looked to be a living room and she wrapped her arms around his waist and Alan did the same, planting a light kiss on her forehead.
Drrriiiiiiiiiiiiiing-dong.
"Augh. Can't you people wait until morning?" he called out to no one.
Rima chuckled. "I'll get it." She left for the door and Alan stepped into the kitchen, glancing around and found a bucket in the corner with ice and a bottle of champagne inside with two glasses placed on the counter beside it.
"Oh-ho," he muttered and quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure Rima wasn't coming. Then he pulled out the bottle and observed it. With a satisfied grin, he ruffled through a nearby bucket for the tool of choice and, when he'd found a corkscrew, opened the bottle with a practised hand. When he'd poured the sparkling drink into the two glasses, he carried them out into the living room when he realised that Rima had not yet returned.
"Rima?" he called. No reply. "Rima, sweetheart, are you alright?"
Worried, he placed the two glasses down on the table and strode out to foyer to find the door open with a note pinned on the inside.
"What in blazes..." he muttered as he took the note and scanned it. His eyes widened and he jumped out the door.
"RIMA!" He ran to the street just in time to see a car screech around the corner.
"RIMA!" he cried after it, chasing it in desperation, but even before he reached the end of the block, he knew it was no good.
She was gone.