Julie arrived home early that afternoon. When she pulled into the drive, Stottlemeyer was on his knees on the porch, installing a new lock on the front door.

"Hey, Julie," he greeted when he saw her. "How was Pebble Beach?"

"It was fun, until last night. Is my mom in there? Is she okay?" Julie said, shouldering her duffel bag.

"She's doing great," he assured her. "Resting on the couch right now. Doc at the ER told her to stay off her feet for a day or two, just in case." He stood up, brushing dust from his jeans, and moved his toolbox to one side so he could open the door for her.

"Mom!" At the sight of her mother, Julie dropped her bag just inside the front door and sprinted to the couch.

"Julie!" Natalie hugged her daughter tightly, relaxing completely for the first time all day. Going back to the house after what had happened there had been nerve-wracking, and she also wasn't accustomed to having to play invalid while others were working around her. She'd tried watching TV and reading, but the day had still dragged.

"Are you okay? Oh my God, your head! Did he do that to you?" Julie perched on the edge of the coffee table and eyed the bruise on her mother's temple with horror.

"I'm fine, really. It's just a bruise." Natalie hugged Julie to her again. "You shouldn't have left your grandparents' place, but I'm so glad you did. I've missed you."

"Mom, I wasn't going to stay there after what happened to you," Julie told her. "I thought you might need my help. Where's Mr. Monk?"

"Oh, he's out back." Natalie rolled her eyes. "He was sweeping up after the captain installed a new lock on the back door, and he noticed that the shrubs weren't clipped evenly."

"Well, we can't have uneven shrubs," Julie said with a chuckle.

"Of course not," Natalie agreed. She reached up and touched Julie's cheek. "Listen, sweetheart... there's something I need to tell you about the man who broke in here yesterday."

Julie's face grew serious. "What about him?"

Natalie took a deep breath. She'd been preparing for this moment all morning, and had decided that the best course of action was to tell the whole story from start to finish, starting with Mr. Monk opening Trudy's present.

Julie's expression changed several times during her mother's explanation. Amazement, shock, disbelief, anger all flashed across her face, but she didn't interrupt.

"So this... this Wally Dougal... killed my dad," Julie said, sniffing to hold back tears, when Natalie had finished. "And his cousin killed Trudy, and both of them were hired by that Beiderbeck guy."

"In a nutshell," Natalie said, wiping her own eyes, glad the ordeal of telling Julie was over. She'd been dreading it all week.

"What's going to happen to Dougal now?"

"He might be extradited to Dallas to face charges there, but once they're done with him, he'll come back here. Captain Stottlemeyer says the District Attorney is already preparing to file charges against Dale Beiderbeck, thanks to Dougal's statement and his willingness to testify." Natalie squeezed Julie's hand tightly. "It's probably going to take a long time, but we will get justice for your dad."

"And for Trudy," Julie said, looking over Natalie's shoulder at someone else.

"Yes," Monk said quietly. Natalie had no idea how long he'd been standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. "For Trudy, too." He offered a tissue to Julie, who gratefully accepted and wiped her eyes.

"How does it feel?" Julie asked him as he sat down on the couch beside Natalie. "To have solved Trudy's case?"

He pondered her question for a long moment, tilting his head to one side as he thought. "It feels good," he finally answered. He remembered his encounter last night, and how serene Trudy had seemed. "It feels like... she's at peace now."

On impulse, Natalie reached over and took his hand. He covered her hand with his other and smiled at her.

Suddenly, Julie gasped. "Oh my gosh, Mr. Monk..." She trailed off, looking horrified.

"What? What's wrong?" Monk asked, his smile falling away in concern.

"Don't freak out," she said, her eyes huge and panicked, "but... your wedding ring is missing."

Natalie gasped, too, and yanked his left hand – the one covering hers – up so she could examine it. "Oh my God, she's right. Did you lose it in the bushes?"

"We'll find it, I promise," Julie said, leaping to her feet. "I'll start – "

"Wait – Julie, it's okay," Monk said, chuckling a little. Julie sat down again uncertainly. "My ring isn't missing," he told her. "It's in my bureau drawer at home."

Julie gaped at him. "You mean... you've stopped wearing it?"

He shrugged and could feel his ears turning red. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and replied, "It seemed like the right time." He couldn't help glancing over at Natalie as he spoke. She promptly blushed and looked away.

Julie raised an eyebrow, looking from one to the other, and at their clasped hands. Then she rose to her feet. "I'm going to go upstairs and unpack," she said, going toward the door for her duffel bag. "When I come back down, you two can tell me what else you've been up to since I've been gone."


They wouldn't, of course, tell her anything. Every time Julie tried talking to her mother, she'd change the subject or pretend to need a nap. And every time she tried pressing Mr. Monk for information, he'd start dusting or vacuuming. But Julie knew something was going on between them.

They barely talked – which, really, wasn't uncommon, but Mr. Monk kept looking like he wanted to say something but was holding himself in check. Her mom was unusually quiet, spending a lot of time deep in thought. Occasionally she'd bite her lip, which she usually did when she was preoccupied, and glance at Mr. Monk. But neither of them would talk to her about what was going on, and the air had been charged with a peculiar tension whenever they were in the same room together.

Now it was New Year's Eve, and Julie had agreed to drive them to the SFPD gala, given her original plans for the holiday (a party at her grandparents' place) had been canceled. She was actually looking forward to having the evening alone – she had her part for the spring musical at Berkley to rehearse, and it was easier to concentrate when no one else was around. She was sitting on the couch, aimlessly flipping through channels, when Mr. Monk came downstairs.

Julie looked, then looked again, and jumped up from the couch. "Mr. Monk..." she breathed, her eyes traveling from the top of his navy-blue hat to the tips of his blindingly shiny black shoes. "You look terrific!"

"You think so?" With a flattered smile, he straightened his hat and rolled his shoulders. "It's been a while since I've worn the dress uniform."

She'd never seen him in any uniform before, and she had to admit that the dress blues looked good on him. There were several impressive medals – commendations earned in the line of duty, she guessed – glinting on his tailored blue jacket, and the pleats on the navy blue pants were razor sharp.

"Are the captain and Randy wearing that, too?" Julie asked, circling around him to get a better look.

"That's right. The mayor specifically requested dress blues for current and retired officers," he said, minutely straightening his jacket cuffs and fussily brushing the gold braid around his wrists. "The last time I wore this was..." But Julie never found out, because he trailed off and his entire body stiffened as he stared at something – or rather, someone – behind her.

Julie turned, and her jaw dropped in admiration as she saw her mother coming down the stairs.

Natalie's dress was shimmering blue satin – just the color of the sky on a perfect midsummer day. It was knee length and sleeveless, had a halter-style neckline that nicely showed off her back, and was accented by a sash with a silver buckle that dropped a scalloped wave of fabric down the front of her skirt. Her shoes were simple, low heels of shimmering silver. Her hair was styled in shiny loose curls, carefully arranged to cover the bruise on her forehead, but she'd also expertly camouflaged the discolored skin with makeup so that it was virtually unnoticeable.

"Mom, wow! You look fabulous!" Julie gingerly hugged her mother so as not to spoil her hair or makeup. "Where'd you get that dress?"

"Thanks, honey," Natalie said, beaming. "I bought it at..." But at that moment she caught sight of Adrian and lost all train of thought.

She hadn't known he was going to wear his SFPD dress uniform. The sight of him, standing tall and ramrod-stiff in the navy blue suit, badge and medals gleaming, hat perfectly straight, all spit and polish, reminded her so strongly of Mitch that she had to blink fast to keep the tears back. She also wasn't prepared for the tidal wave of attraction that suddenly slammed into her and left her breathless.

Julie had to work hard to smother a giggle. Mr. Monk looked like he'd swallowed his own tongue, and Mom looked like she wouldn't notice if her hair was on fire. And they both seemed to have forgotten that she was standing there as they stared at one another.

"I'm...uh...going to go warm up the car," Julie said loudly, not sure if they even heard her, and made a quick exit.

She was wearing Trudy's necklace. Adrian's eyes zeroed in on it right away. As Natalie slowly stepped down the remaining few stairs, the light caught the square-cut diamond pendant and it sparkled brightly on its white-gold chain. She looked – incredible. Beyond incredible. He'd seen her in fancy dresses more than once; why had he never noticed before how very lovely she was?

For her part, Natalie wasn't sure how to interpret the look of utter astonishment on his face. Was it too difficult seeing the necklace he'd bought for Trudy on her instead? Maybe she should take it off – but then, she didn't want to hurt his feelings by making him think she didn't like it. As she paused at the bottom of the stairs, agonizing over what to do, he seemed to regain the ability to move and stepped forward, the heels of his regulation dress shoes clicking on the hardwood floor.

He reached out and gently straightened the chain of the necklace so the clasp was evenly centered on the back of her neck, then adjusted the pendant carefully so it, too, fell straight and even down the smooth skin of her throat. His hands were trembling slightly as his fingers softly brushed her skin. Even that light touch caused her breath to hitch slightly. When the necklace was adjusted to his satisfaction, he smiled at her – and the smile caused her stomach to turn somersaults.

"How does it look?" she asked, still a little breathless from the way he was gazing at her.

Adrian's hands moved to lightly caress the bare skin on her upper arms. "It's almost as beautiful as the woman wearing it."

The compliment was so unexpected, and so obviously sincere, that she blushed deeply and looked down at the silver evening bag she carried. The glinting medals on his chest caught her eye and she reached out to gently touch one, taking care not to nudge any of them out of their carefully-placed positions. "I've never seen these before."

"It's been a long time since I've been able to wear them, officially," he said, and she realized how much it meant to him that he could wear his uniform, to official functions at least, now that he was honorably retired from the force instead of suspended due to psychological reasons.

"They look wonderful," she said warmly, looking back up at him, pride glowing on her face. "You look wonderful."

They smiled at each other, her hand resting against his chest, his hands still on her upper arms.

He thought about kissing her.

She thought about letting him.

Then a car horn blared from outside, causing them both to jump. Julie, it seemed, was getting impatient. "We should get going," Natalie said, quickly crossing to the closet to get her coat. "It's nearly eight."

Four hours left until the new year, Adrian mused as he offered Natalie his arm and escorted her to the waiting car. For the first time in a long time, that prospect wasn't depressing.


The Four Seasons ballroom was dazzling, decked out with gold and silver Christmas trees, wreaths, garlands, and twinkling lights. There were a sea of people in their holiday best – SFPD officers in dress blues, men in tuxedos, and women in fancy cocktail dresses. As she entered the ballroom on his arm, Natalie could feel Adrian tensing up when he saw the number of people in the room.

"You okay?" she murmured, touching his shoulder.

He swallowed, scanning the room nervously. "Yeah," he said, fighting to quell the anxiety rising in his throat. Her touch helped, and he forced himself to try and relax. "I'll be fine."

"Oh, look, there's Captain Stottlemeyer!" Natalie waved across the room, and Adrian felt himself relax further as he saw Leland and T.K. waving at them from a quiet table at the edge of the room. They'd chosen it deliberately for his sake, he deduced, in order to be as removed from the crowd as possible, and he was grateful for it.

T.K. hugged Natalie enthusiastically once they reached the table. "I'm so glad you're all right! Leland told me what happened. Are you feeling okay?"

"I feel great, really," Natalie assured her. "And you look terrific!"

She wore a black cocktail dress, very similar to the one she'd worn on the night Leland had proposed to her, and she did indeed look stunning.

Stottlemeyer slapped Monk heartily on the back. "The uniform looks great."

Monk smiled. "Thanks."

The four of them were still exchanging pleasantries when Randy approached the table with his date on his arm. "Hey guys, great party," he said, and had the pleasure of watching his four friends freeze in shock.

Monk, surprisingly, was the first to recover. "Sharona?" he gasped, a smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Surprise!" she sang, grinning from ear to ear and enfolded him in a hug. To her amazement, he returned the embrace enthusiastically.

"Sharona Fleming, what the hell are you doing here?" Stottlemeyer asked, chuckling broadly, hugging her in turn.

"I flew in to surprise Randy," she giggled. "He had no idea I was coming until I showed up at his apartment this afternoon."

"I thought I was dreaming at first," Randy added, gazing at Sharona with adoring eyes.

"I bought my ticket to the Gala months ago," she confessed. "But I didn't want to say anything because I wasn't sure if I could get the time off. But I did, and I found a good deal on plane fare, so here I am!"

"I can't believe you flew over two thousand miles today," Natalie marveled.

"Me neither," T.K. agreed. "You look fabulous!"

In true Sharona style, she was clad in a tight-fitting fuchsia dress that stopped above her knees and didn't leave her cleavage to the imagination, as well as sky-high toothpick heels in the same bright pink. Still, it looked good on her.

"Thanks. Right now I'm still riding on caffeine and adrenaline," Sharona said, squeezing Randy's arm. "But I'm a nurse, so I'm used to it."

Their collective attention was diverted as the band, a five-piece jazz ensemble, began to play the opening notes of their first number. "Oh, I love this song!" Sharona exclaimed. "C'mon, Randy, let's dance!"

She was practically dragging him to the dance floor as she spoke, but judging from the grin on his face, he didn't mind a bit. Stottlemeyer chuckled at the two, raising an eyebrow at his wife as he did so. "Sounds like a good idea to me. Shall we?"

"I'd love to," T.K. agreed, taking his arm, and flashing a smile at Monk and Natalie as they walked away.

Adrian looked at the crowd of couples already swarming the dance floor, and twitched nervously. Steeling his back, he held out a hand to Natalie. "Feel up to it?" he asked.

The wistful expression on her face transformed to one of pure delight. "Really?"

He tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow. "As long as you don't mind my two left feet."

"You don't have two left feet," she laughed as they walked out onto the floor. "It'd be asymmetrical."

"You have a point." They started the dance with their bodies several inches apart, her left hand on his shoulder and his right hand resting just below her shoulder blades.

They'd never danced together before, Natalie reflected. She hadn't even known he knew how, but despite his claims of two left feet, they moved together gracefully.

As they swayed to the music, he smiled down at her. "You know what?" he asked.

"What?"

"I love this song, too."

To her great surprise, he began to sing softly, never taking her eyes off of hers or faltering in his steps.

"Someday, when I'm awfully low
When the world is cold
I will feel a glow just thinking of you
And the way you look tonight."

"I didn't know you could sing," she said, flushing with pleasure. "Or dance, for that matter. What other talents are you hiding from me, Adrian Monk?"

His eyes twinkled with amusement, but he didn't reply other than to keep singing along with the music.

"You're lovely, with your smile so warm
And your cheeks so soft
There is nothing for me but to love you
And the way you look tonight."

His hand slid down her bare back until it reached the smooth satin of her dress, low on her back. Placing gentle pressure on her waist, he drew her closer until their bodies brushed together.

"With each word, your tenderness grows
Tearing my fears apart
And that laugh that wrinkles your nose
Touches my foolish heart."

Neither of them noticed the stares they were receiving from other couples around them, nor did they hear Sharona's agitated whispers.

"Adrian and Natalie?!" she hissed to Randy, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. "When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I – uh – I didn't know," he said, trying not to stare openly at the pair. "Is he singing to her?"

"Yes, he is!" Sharona looked around and snagged Stottlemeyer's arm, careful to keep dancing so they didn't cause a commotion. "Did you know about this?" she asked, jerking her head toward Adrian and Natalie.

Both Stottlemeyer and T.K. casually looked over at the two, who were now nestled in each other's arms, their bodies close, and his arm circling her waist. Adrian was singing softly to her, and Natalie's eyes were shining as she gazed up at him.

"Well, I'll be damned," Stottlemeyer said under his breath. He grinned and kept dancing, glancing at Sharona. "I had an idea things were heading in that direction," he said, keeping his voice low so he wouldn't be overheard by any bystanders. "A lot's happened to them lately."

"What's been going on?" Sharona demanded of Randy.

As he began to explain the events of the past week in hushed tones, T.K. beamed at her husband. "They look so happy, don't they?"

"They sure do," he agreed. In fact, he hadn't seen Monk look like that since Trudy was alive. He maneuvered T.K. around so he could steal glances at the pair without it being obvious. Come to think of it, he mused, he'd never seen Natalie look like that before – rapturous face, glowing eyes, dreamy smile. But then, he realized, he hadn't known her when Mitch was alive, so it made sense that he'd never seen her in love before. Until now.

"Yes, you're lovely, never, ever change
Keep that breathless charm
Won't you please arrange it?
'Cause I love you
Just the way you look tonight."

Monk stopped singing as the band played the closing bars of the song, but he didn't take his eyes from her face. His heart was in his throat from the look in her eyes. He could hardly breathe as the last few notes of the song lingered in the air and their bodies stilled.

A burst of applause from the crowd, directed toward the band, jolted him back to reality. He flushed, realizing he'd been about to try and kiss her in front of a ballroom full of people, and stumbled back a step.

Sharona skillfully wove through the crowd, Randy on her heels, until she was standing at Natalie's side. "Natalie, come with me to the ladies' room," she said, flashing a toothy grin at Monk and grabbing the other woman's hand.

Natalie blinked as if waking from a dream. "Oh… um, sure," she said, recognizing the grip on her hand as a subtle "I-won't-take-no-for-an-answer" gesture. She shot an apologetic glance toward Adrian as Sharona tugged her toward the restrooms.

T.K. flanked Natalie, announcing, "I'll come too," leaving the three men standing alone.

Adrian's brows furrowed. "Why are they going to the bathroom together?" he asked.

Stottlemeyer chuckled. Monk had a lot to learn. "Because that's what women do. C'mon, let's hunt up the mayor. I think there were some people he wanted you to meet."

Adrian sighed and followed the captain into the crowd, glad he had an emergency packet of wipes in his pocket.


Once inside the bathroom, Sharona bypassed the stalls in favor of a semi-private nook in the back of the room that held a plush divan and matching armchair. Sharona tossed her evening bag onto a three-legged glass-topped table. "Oh my God, you and Adrian?" she said to Natalie, keeping her voice pitched low so they wouldn't be overheard. "How did that happen? How long have you been involved?"

Natalie sank down onto the narrow sofa, blushing furiously under Sharona's piercing gaze. T.K. sat down beside her while Sharona perched on the armchair. "We're not – I mean, we are, I guess, but he's – I mean, I don't – " she fumbled, and to her own horror felt her eyes well up with tears.

"Oh, hon, I'm sorry," Sharona said, instantly contrite. She snatched her evening bag and fished out a tissue. "Here."

T.K. touched her arm. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?" she asked gently.

"I'm fine," Natalie insisted, wiping her eyes. "Really." She took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. "It's just – I'm not really sure what's going on with us." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "It's complicated."

"Isn't it always?" Sharona remarked, taking Natalie's hand and giving it a sympathetic squeeze. "Want to talk about it?"

This was what she'd been missing, Natalie realized. Girlfriends. She'd been so wrapped up in her job for so long that she hadn't had the time or opportunity to cultivate friendships with other women her age, and she missed being able to confide in friends whom she knew and respected. She couldn't talk to Julie about her love life, and her mother was absolutely out of the question. Randy and the captain were good sounding boards for other subjects, but not this one.

But now she had T.K., and Sharona, both of whom were hovering protectively around her. T.K. knew what it was like to be in an intense, fast-moving relationship, and Sharona knew Monk probably better than she did herself. Maybe they could help her get a clearer perspective on what was happening.

With a sigh of relief, she poured out the whole story, beginning with the events of Christmas Day. The two women listened silently to the torrent of words, and although they exchanged meaningful glances several times, neither of them interrupted.

"…and just now, we were dancing, and he was singing to me, and everything felt so right... but I can't bring myself to take the next step," Natalie concluded.

Sharona and T.K. exchanged another glance.

"Are you in love with him?" Sharona asked, wasting no time in getting to her point.

Natalie started to speak, hesitated, and sighed. "I know it sounds strange, but I'm not sure. I love him... but that's not the same as being in love with him."

"Leland thinks you are," T.K. said matter-of-factly. "Last year, a little while after we met, he was telling me about the time you and Monk saved the governor's life. He said that the way you looked when you found out that he was alive... he could see you were halfway in love with Monk and didn't even know it."

Natalie remembered finding Adrian in Sparks, remembered watching him try to dodge behind those big, ugly barrels before she threw herself in his arms and kissed him. Remembered how, for a crazy, tearful moment, she'd longed for him to kiss her back. That feeling had never really gone away.

"I think...I am in love with him," she said aloud, finding a certain relief in finally admitting what she'd known, deep down, for a long time. "I just don't know if it's a good idea to risk a relationship, given how it could affect him if it doesn't work out. Or if it does work out, and something happens to me." She scrubbed her hands over her face, feeling a knot of tension in the back of her neck. She'd been agonizing over that problem for days.

"I might not have a good track record with relationships," Sharona said briskly, "but I do know you can't always make decisions based on what might happen. You have to take life as it comes, make the best decision that you can with what you have, and deal with whatever comes after. That goes for Adrian, too. Sure, things might get rough for him if the worst happens, but despite his... issues... he's a grown man and he'll have to deal with it. I know you want to shield him from being hurt, but it comes at the cost of his potential happiness – and yours, too. That's no way to live for anybody."

T.K. nodded in agreement. "When I was having doubts about marrying a cop who was often in dangerous situations, a very wise friend told me, 'There's risk in everything. That's what life is. It's all or nothing.'"

Natalie's head came up abruptly. She stared at T.K. for a second or two before her face relaxed into a smile. "I guess... I should listen to my own advice."

Grinning, T.K. gazed at her wedding ring, then looked back at her. "I'm very glad that I listened to it."

Sharona squirmed, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She considered Natalie a good friend, but they hadn't had the chance to spend a lot of time together, and she hoped she wasn't overstepping her bounds. "Natalie," she said, taking her hand again, "Are you absolutely sure you're attracted to the man, and not the uniform?" she asked. "Your late husband wore a uniform, too."

To her great relief, Natalie wasn't offended. "I'm sure," she said simply, one hand rising to finger her necklace. "It's not the uniform, exactly. I mean, yes, he looks incredible in it – "

"Whoa, there," Sharona said wryly, her nursing instincts taking over as she felt Natalie's pulse race. "Down, girl."

Natalie's cheeks burned. "And that's another issue altogether," she said, massaging her temples. "If we have a relationship, I'd want us to – well, I'd want it to be, you know…"

"Intimate?" T.K. supplied.

She exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Yeah. Maybe not right away, but... eventually." She kept her eyes trained on the blue satin in her lap, too embarrassed to look up. "I don't even know if he's capable of… consummation. He has issues with, um, anatomy, in general."

"Natalie, you know that he and Trudy had sex, right?" Sharona said, with characteristic bluntness.

"It's not something that we've ever discussed," Natalie said shortly. "Did he ever talk to you – ?"

"Are you kidding? No," Sharona laughed. "He'd have sooner cut out his tongue. But I've talked to people who knew Trudy, and she doesn't strike me as the type of woman who would have been happy in a marriage that didn't have intimacy, on every level. And I know they'd talked about having children, eventually."

"From what Leland has told me, they were always very physically affectionate with one another, even in public," T.K. added.

"But that was Trudy," Natalie sighed.

"You said he's tried to kiss you, more than once," Sharona pointed out. "And out there on the dance floor, he looked like he was about to try it again. He wouldn't look that way if he wasn't having the same physical feelings toward you that he did with her."

Natalie felt hope blossoming in her. "You think so?"

"I know so," Sharona assured her. "Maybe the next time he tries to kiss you, you should let it happen."

"I haven't exactly stopped him the other times he's tried," Natalie confessed. "We just – keep getting interrupted." She slanted a look at T.K. "Mostly by your husband, I might add."

T.K.'s eyes twinkled at her. "I'll keep him out of your way tonight."

"On that note, we should probably get back out there before they start to think we ditched the party," Sharona said, glancing at her wristwatch. She squeezed Natalie's hand a final time before letting go. "You call me if you want to talk about this, okay? Anytime, day or night."

"Thank you. I appreciate it," Natalie said, wiping her eyes a final time and pulling out a compact to check her makeup. She'd had the foresight to wear waterproof mascara, just in case, and it'd paid off. She stood up, smoothed her dress, and took a few deep, calming breaths.

"Ready?" T.K. asked, understanding her need to settle a bit before going back out.

Natalie nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."


"What's taking them so long?" Monk murmured fretfully, his eyes darting over the crowd. "Do you think she's not feeling well?"

"I'm sure she's just fine, Monk," Stottlemeyer said for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last twenty minutes. "They're probably just freshening up their makeup or some other woman thing."

He twitched his shoulders, scanning the ballroom again. "Maybe I should – " His shoulders slumped in relief as he caught sight of the three women making their way toward them. Natalie looked as lovely as ever – there was no sign that she was feeling unwell. In fact, as she caught sight of him, she smiled.

"There you are," he said, in obvious relief, as she reached his side. "I was about to send out a search party."

"We were talking," she said simply, linking her fingers with his.

"Leland," T.K. said, drawing her husband aside, "I'm thirsty. Let's go get some champagne."

"That sounds like a great idea," Sharona said to Randy. "We'll catch up with you guys later," she said to Monk and Natalie as she directed Randy toward the bar.

"You're feeling all right?" Adrian asked Natalie, still a little worried. "Do you need to sit down?"

"I feel fine," she assured him, touched by his concern. "How are you holding up?"

He made a face. "Let's see, Leland made me talk to the Mayor, the Deputy Mayor, the President of the City Council, and the Chief of Police." He shuddered slightly. "And I shook hands with all of them. The Deputy Mayor's wife even hugged me."

"Oh, you poor thing," Natalie said, tongue firmly planted in cheek. "That must have been awful for you."

"It really was," he agreed, and suddenly stumbled forward slightly as a tuxedoed man accidentally bumped into him as he passed.

"I'm terribly sorry – " the man began to apologize, then stopped short. "Adrian? I barely recognized you in your uniform!"

"Dr. Bell!" Adrian said with obvious pleasure, relieved to find another friendly face among strangers.

"You look terrific!" the psychiatrist praised. "And Natalie, you look stunning. It's good to see you."

"Thank you," Natalie said, smiling. She moved forward to slide her arm in the crook of Adrian's elbow. "Is Dr. Hector here with you?"

"Yes, she's just – ah, here she is," Dr. Bell said as a woman clad in a strapless silver gown glided up to him. Her shiny black hair was piled high on her head, and she looked markedly different from the rumpled, practical woman in scrubs they'd met in the emergency room just a few nights before.

"Hello," she greeted them, beaming a smile. "You both look wonderful – and you look well, Natalie," she added, giving Natalie a quick glance from head to foot. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel great," Natalie said, not feeling exasperated by the question for a change. "I've been taking it easy, like you said."

"How are you holding up, Adrian?" Dr. Bell asked, noting that his patient had tensed and was looking slightly agitated.

"I'm doing all right," Adrian said, wincing slightly as a woman in a purple gown with orange feathers – who'd already had one too many – bumped into him and slurred an apology before stumbling away. "It's just – very crowded in here." His eyes darted around nervously.

Drs. Bell and Hector exchanged a quick glance. "Have you been out on the terrace?" Dr. Hector asked. "It's much less crowded out there, and it's a lovely evening."

Natalie picked up on the subtle hint immediately. "That sounds perfect," she said, beaming a smile at the pair. "It was so good to see both of you."

Adrian nodded a hasty good-bye as Natalie quickly and deftly guided him toward the wide double doors at the other end of the room. When they stepped out into the cool air of the outdoor terrace, his breath exploded in relief – he hadn't realized he'd been holding it in – and he gulped in the fresh air.

The ballroom was on the fifth floor, so while the covered terrace wasn't terribly high up, Natalie still steered Adrian away from the railing. It was a wide, welcoming area, dotted with cushioned chairs, sofas, and coffee tables. The columns supporting the roof were wrapped with evergreen garland, red bows, and clear Christmas lights, giving a soft glow and a festive air to the outdoor area. Subtly placed heat lamps warded off the late December chill.

"This is better," Adrian breathed, not realizing just how claustrophobic he'd been feeling until now. "It's better out here."

"And quieter, too," Natalie agreed. As Dr. Hector had said, only a few couples had taken advantage of the outdoor terrace, most preferring to be inside where it was warmer and the band still played. There were a few people here and there, but for the most part it was empty.

She ushered him over to a secluded spot furthest from the ballroom doors, and a good distance from the other couples lingering at the rail and taking in the San Francisco scenery. He sank down onto a cushioned settee, putting his elbows on his knees and breathing deeply. The panic attack had been brewing since they'd arrived, and he was doing his best to fight it off. It was easier, much easier, now that they were in the fresh air in a quiet place.

Natalie sat beside him, silently supportive, rubbing his back. It only took him a few minutes to collect himself, and he breathed a shaky apology. "Sorry about that."

"You don't have to apologize," she said gently. "That was a big crowd. I was starting to feel a little claustrophobic, too." She was still rubbing his back as she spoke. "Besides, I like it out here. It's cool, and quiet, and... romantic."

His heart started racing again. It wasn't due to a panic attack, but rather the suggestive tone of her voice. He was suddenly aware that she was sitting so close that the fabric of her dress brushed up against his pants.

"It is romantic," he agreed, shifting toward her. She was still lightly stroking his back, but he took her free hand in his. "I love you," he told her, quietly, even though he'd promised himself he wouldn't bring it up again, for fear of upsetting her. But it seemed to say itself.

Her stomach was a mass of butterflies, but she managed to smile at him despite her nerves. "I...I love you too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I've been such a basket case lately."

Baffled humor lit his eyes. "I hope you realize you're talking to someone who's been a basket case for the last decade."

She laughed, and looped her arms around his neck. He caught his breath as she eased closer, the diamond at her throat shimmering in the soft light. There was no hesitation or uncertainty in her eyes, just warm invitation.

For once, he didn't think – he just acted, afraid he'd never get so perfect a chance as this again. He kissed her, softly, gently, almost timidly. And it was – nice. In fact, it was wonderful. He kissed her again, longer, slower, deeper, enjoying her soft, warm lips and the way she seemed to melt against him.

It wasn't quite like it had been with Trudy, but different, he was discovering, wasn't always bad. In this case, it was good.

Very, very good.