A/N Technology and Monk don't mix. We know this. Once again, something technological leads him (and Natalie) into trouble. However, this time it may also yield a happy result. I am not the owner of anything Monk except my persistent desire for Adrian and Natalie to have a happily ever after!

Adrian Monk went over what little information he had about this new case as they headed to the scene. He read through some papers that had been faxed over to his apartment. Natalie had finally convinced him to get a fax machine. She could convince him of nearly anything these days, he thought with a dumb grin. Off-topic, Adrian, get a grip. Jack Dorsey was one of the most famous names in Social Media. He founded Twitter in 2006, and now in 2010, he was using his nouveau riche money to do some crazy things. His latest investment? An ice bar in Hayes Valley. Hayes Valley has, over the years, transformed from a place parents wouldn't let their kids go when he was a kid into a place where most people's parents can't afford to live. Well, except Natalie's, they certainly could, although they live in Pebble Beach. Off-topic, Adrian, he chided himself. The small neighborhood is full of brightly-lit boutiques, one-of-a-kind restaurants, and a handful of famous bars. There's a park in the central area with rotating public art, making it a great place to sit and relax after shopping or enjoy the people-watching. Natalie often forced Adrian into these activities, eating out, looking at art, shopping - for his "own good" after a stressful case or a tough week. Dr. Bell was all for these outings as well. It was difficult for Monk to fight them both. But if it meant spending more time alone with her… Off-topic, Adrian, again!

On this exceedingly early April morning, or maybe it was still night, Adrian Monk sat in his usual shotgun seat in the silver Hyundai Genesis. Natalie drove them in the darkness to this place owned by the Tech billionaire Dorsey, called "The Meat Locker" in the newly trendy Hayes Valley to investigate a murder. Peripherally, Monk knew about Twitter. Although he now had his own cell phone, he didn't have a lot of uses for it, except to call Natalie, Julie, Ambrose, or Leland. So, all Adrian knew about Twitter he learned from the news or Julie and Natalie. He knew he was mentioned on the social media platform from time to time, much as he was in the newspaper, and Natalie printed out the mentions to add to the scrapbook that Marge Johnson had started years ago. Unfortunately, he got distracted with thoughts about the scrapbook.

Of course, being the thoughtful human she was once Marge moved to Seattle, Natalie took over the scrapbook. She had gone online and to the library and spent hours going through and printing the other mentions and accolades he had received, back through the beginning of his career to make the scrapbook complete. She'd decorated the pages and added notes, memories, and details in her own swooping handwriting. Natalie had called Sharona and Joe Christie for more information and consulted Leland and Randy and the SFPD archives for photos.

She'd surprised him with the retrofitted scrapbook one day last summer. When Adrian had unwrapped it, in his customary persnickety and careful way, he'd been so moved he had no idea how to respond. "Thank you" seemed so inadequate and limited for something so special from someone so important to him. So he'd done an unusual thing, he pulled her into his arms and initiated a hug. He lived off the memory of that embrace for the past eight months. How she felt. How she fit against his body. How he never wanted to let her go. How her scent infiltrated his brain, and now every time she was near enough for him to catch it, he became somewhat aroused. Off-topic, Adrian, stop it! The brilliant detective had no clue as to the hope he'd stirred inside his pretty assistant that day as well.

He turned his mind back to the case. An ice bar, Adrian had learned, and as the name suggested, is a bar entirely made of ice. Walls, tables, chairs, and even the drinkware are all made of ice. Who wanted to subject themselves to that for fun? he wondered. Ice bars usually contain themed ice sculptures and other formations and are kept at low temperatures, generally about 23°F, to hinder melting. Visitors enter for timed stays, and even staff work on time-limited shifts. So when the resident ice sculptor didn't "checkout" with his electronic ID at his appointed time, the shift staff manager became concerned and went looking for him. He'd found him in one of the ice block and liquor storage areas just behind the main bar. Murdered, it seemed, with his own tool. A chainsaw. Monk winced, imagining what they would find at this crime scene.

Natalie parked in the lot close to the door, next to Leland's car. She flipped her visor down and displayed the latest police placard that Leland had provided for them. He had done this annually for the last few years. It certainly made the crime scene work more manageable than it had been at one time. In addition, it prevented unwarranted parking tickets and fewer towing incidents that Leland had to handle.

"Ready?" she asked with a weary smile.

"Yes. I'm sorry we had to get up for this, Natalie. You seem very tired ."

"Well, it is either the middle of the night or very early morning," she smiled again; they often joked about which one they preferred it to be called, "and I was having bad dreams when I was asleep. So, I guess being awake and at work is a preferable distraction." He nodded.

The idea of her having bad dreams worried him and bothered him. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her about the nature of the dreams, but he didn't dare. It might expose his feelings. He didn't like caring about her, he didn't want to care about her, but he did. He felt some measure of guilt over it because of his lingering love and devotion to Trudy. Although he'd put most of his feelings for Trudy safely in the past where they belonged, guilt was guilt.

He also felt slightly, inexplicably, angry some days. Not like the anger he felt when Trudy was taken from him, that had finally subsided. No, this anger was directed at himself and at Natalie. He was angry because he knew he felt more for her than just the normal boss-employee relationship. More than the best friends they'd become. It felt like the single most horrible trick ever played on him in his life, beyond stolen lunch money and swirlies. And to think he'd done it to himself. Not purposefully, of course. He'd finally gotten himself together enough to move on with his life in a world without his beloved Trudy, only to find he'd fallen in love with Natalie Teeger long ago. That anger had created guilt and bewilderment as well as a healthy dose of fear and denial. His anger toward Natalie was more convoluted, mixing fear of rejection with adoration, with fear of losing her, with irrationally blaming her for making him love her. He didn't dare discuss this with Dr. Bell. Or Leland. Or even himself some days. Talking about it would make it more terrifyingly real.

Leaving the car, he tried to divorce himself from worries about Natalie and his disorderly feelings, and he scanned his surroundings. BMWs, Mercedes-Benzes, Audis, one Jaguar, and several Range Rovers dotted the nearly dark lot. Not a middle-class car among them. Natalie had said it was expensive to even enter this place. He heard the car doors lock and the alarm beep from behind him as Natalie stepped beside him and they headed towards the door.

Once at the entryway, Adrian shot Natalie a puzzled glance as he looked through the glass at what could only be called a ticket booth/dry cleaning storefront. He was confused by the setup and by the hundreds of silvery parkas and white faux-fur coats hanging from the conveyor apparatus. As they stepped through the door, he also saw baskets of gloves and hats.

"What is all of this?" He whispered to Natalie.

"You need to wear a coat and winter gear inside."

"You-you're telling me you have to wear a used coat…."

"They dry clean the coats daily—they are all single-use daily, and the gloves and hat are yours to take home. They are part of the ticket price." Adrian shook his head violently as Natalie donned a remarkable, overly large white faux-fur coat, the smaller sizes had been used up earlier in the night, and then she grabbed gloves and a hat from the baskets. Adrian refused the coat and would only take the gloves and hat because the tags were still on. One of Natalie and Adrian's semi-regular minor skirmishes ensued.

"Mr. Monk, you're going to be freezing in there; you won't be able to concentrate."

"Natalie," he complained in his old Monkish way, "I can't!"

"You can, and you should. We live in San Francisco."

"I'm aware," he said dryly.

Natalie rolled her eyes, now exhausted and impatient. She reigned in her feelings as always and reasonably continued, "What I'm saying is we're not used to temperatures this cold. You haven't ever really felt temperatures this cold… you've barely ever left California."

"So you're the expert on how I feel?" he asked angrily. Then immediately regretted his outburst.

She just stared at him, wide-eyed. He was angrier than the situation called for. She stammered her next words. "Ma-maybe not an ex-expert, but I- I do know you pretty well. You're not going to be happy in there. You're going to get cold. Quickly."

"And you're not?"

"At least I'll be more prepared." He harrumphed in reply and turned away from her.

Natalie's pre-Monk life of travel, skiing, and other adventures had prepared her for what twenty-three degrees for an extended period would feel like. On the other hand, Adrian Monk's life pre-Natalie or otherwise had not prepared him in any way at all.

They walked through the entry and passed between the clear plastic flaps usually found at the entrance to the heavily refrigerated section of Costco, where the milk and eggs were located. Immediately, Natalie drew the fur further around her slim body. Adrian was shocked by the temperature; of course, Natalie had been correct as she most often was, it made him pull up his sport coat's collar around his neck. They followed a uniformed police officer to the storage room. All the while, Monk looked around at what passed for decor in this so-called trendy club. What he hoped were replica sides of beef hung from the ceiling between strobe lights and disco balls. Thankfully the temperature did do one positive thing. It kept the stench of death from permeating the small space. The metallic tang of blood was still there, but the other accompanying scents of murder and death were not. Leland was conferring with the medical examiner when they approached.

"Natalie! Monk! Welcome to the frozen version of hell!"

"Let's get to it, Leland," Monk said, his teeth feeling like they could begin chattering at any moment. The medical examiner excused himself to retrieve his assistant, a body bag, and a gurney. Randy was across the expansive room interviewing the last of the patrons. He was wearing borrowed fur. Of course he was, Monk thought and rolled his eyes. Only to turn on his heel and begin his examination of the crime scene.

Monk walked the frozen storage room, gloved hands aloft, and Leland, wrapped in a borrowed silvery parka, said, "Where's your coat, Monk?"

Monk ignored him, so Natalie answered, "He refused one." She rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders at Leland and followed Monk closely in case he needed her. Leland's phone rang; he turned to answer it and left the room. Natalie and Adrian had delved deeper into the back of the room, it was larger than it appeared. All the shiny, reflective surfaces were misleading. Adrian picked up a slip of paper with his tweezer; his hands were shaking. Natalie was nearby with a plastic evidence bag, trying to ignore her concern for his evident coldness.

While Adrian did his thing, Natalie perused the rest of the room. There was a wall of bottles lining the rear of the storage room. The most popular drinks served at ice bars are ice-cold vodka shots or cocktails mixing vodka with a berry puree. So there were bottles of Ketel One, Chopin, Belvedere, Grey Goose, Tito's, Hangar 1, Van Gogh, Cîroc, Absolut, and Stoli vodkas; along with jugs of a variety of berry purees, all labeled neatly. All top ten vodkas and exciting flavors of purees to accompany them. Natalie perused the choices and smiled. Thinking about a delicious alcoholic drink warming her from the inside out. She quickly refocused when she heard a noise behind her. The metal door behind them squeaked harshly and then slammed shut.

Adrian's concentration broke, and he looked up at Natalie from where he had crouched. "What was that?"

"Just the door."

"Great," he said from between the teeth he was clenching to keep them from chattering. He stood to face Natalie, smoothed his slacks as was his custom, and walked around her to the door. He grasped the handle, and it wouldn't turn. Then he put more of his weight into it. Still nothing. He looked over his shoulder at Natalie and said, "We may have a small problem, Natalie."

"What is it?" she asked, ready to contend with any of Monk's many issues.

"The door won't open," he replied, through teeth still gritted against the cold and added irritation. "It's stuck."

"What?"

"The door won't-"

"I heard you. Let me try, please." He stood to the side, knowing that occasionally she could do things he could not, but he was still stronger than she was physically—for the most part. He towered over her in height and in weight. She was so damn slight—he had felt protective of her from the start due to that diminutiveness. She had proven strong and resilient, capable and brave despite her stature. She was also stunningly smart and exceedingly clever. Those attributes challenged him on some days and complimented his own intellect and talents on most other days. They were well suited to each other in so many ways, it took him so long to see her clearly as the beautiful, desirable woman she was, but those two truths about her cleverness and intelligence, he'd always known. This wasn't the time for his romantic ruminations. He watched her struggle with the door. Her determination was limitless even in the face of futility.

"Fuck!"

"Natalie!"

"Well, if now is not the time for foul language, I don't know when it will be!"

He had to shrug in semi-judgemental agreement. They banged on the door. Monk looked at the door as he hit it and realized the hinges were on their side of the door. That wasn't good. For someone to take the hinges off with tools, they'd need access to the hinges … and tools. The only tool he'd seen in the room with them was the murder weapon, and that would do them no good.

They stopped banging on the thick metal, and Natalie turned to face him. "Hopefully, by now, the captain realizes we're stuck in here."

He nodded. Natalie saw his teeth chattering. He couldn't contain it any longer. After a minute, they heard a muffled banging and realized with relief that someone knew they were locked in the storage room.

"Don't worry, Natalie. They'll figure out how to get us out quickly." Adrian looked into Natalie's eyes with an expression she couldn't interpret. A look she'd never seen before. Concern? For her? He raised a gloved hand to her cheek, and she leaned into it. They stayed that way for a few moments; he shivered, and not just from the cold. Suddenly Natalie's phone rang. It reverberated and echoed, shocking the two out of the frozen stasis in which they were caught. She answered the phone, flustered and confused, "Hello?"

"Natalie?"

"Yes?"

"We're working on it!"

"Thank you! Hurry, please!" She looked up at Adrian, "It was the captain. They're working on getting us out."

"Okay," he replied, rubbing his hands up and down his arms.

"You're freezing, Mr. Monk."

"No, I'm... I'm f-fine," he stuttered through chattering teeth.

"No, you're not. Listen. I have a plan."

"Uh oh."

"It's a good plan, I promise. It will require you to compromise a little."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah, well, if you don't want hypothermia, you're gonna go along." With that, she removed her oversized fake fur coat and put it around Adrian's shoulders, moving his arms into the sleeves as he protested.

"Natalie, no. This isn't right. This coat… ew." Then, for one of the few times ever, he also spoke his feelings of concern for her aloud, "What about you?"

She stopped her motion and looked up at him in complete surprise. "Well, thank you for thinking of me, too. I'm going to be just fine. The plan is, we're going to keep each other warm." Before he could speak, Natalie turned her back to him and backed up against him, fitting her lithe curves against his frame. Then she zipped them into the enormous coat together, and she turned inside the coat to face him. The friction of her body against his was enough to make him fill with desire, despite their location and the fact they were technically at work. He desperately tried thinking about the dead body less than twenty feet from them instead of Natalie's body snug against his own to keep his libido under some kind of control. Unfortunately, it didn't work as well as he'd hoped. Natalie placed her arms and hands against his chest under the coat, as if they were nestled under a fur blanket, and that thought drove away the thoughts about the case, and heat surged to places it probably shouldn't have.

"Na-Natalie?"

"Yes?" She looked up at him with trust in her aquamarine eyes. Then, she squinted at him in concern. His eyes were filled with desperation and fear.

"I should have. I didn't. I couldn't find the time. Or a way. I was too afraid. Too shy. I should have. I was still thinking it all through. Being careful. I'm sorry."

"Mr. Monk?" Thinking he was succumbing to claustrophobia and about ten other of his phobias at the moment, making him incoherent, Natalie grew more concerned.

"Adrian. For god's sake, look at the position we're in. Call me Adrian, please," he practically begged.

"Okay…Adrian," she looked at him like he'd lost his mind a little, and maybe he had. He was doing everything he could to keep his hips from hers. He didn't want her to feel his arousal before he could say what he knew he should have said a long time ago but was now being forced to say.

"I didn't want to do this like this, here or even now. I was waiting for the perfect moment. But, clearly, there is no such thing. Perfect timing, I mean. But Natalie, I've had these feelings that won't go away. They won't subside. And to be honest, I don't want them to. The feelings are real, and they feel scary but good. So I thought I should tell you."

"What are these feelings, Adrian?" He got lost in her eyes for a moment. The bright lighting and all the ice made them sparkle like they were green fire.

"What? Oh! Right! I am not sure how you will feel about me telling you this, especially in our current predicament. The truth is, Natalie, I have feelings for you. About you. I'm extremely attracted to you," he gestured to their close proximity and then wrapped his arms around her as she stood very still in their furry cocoon. Afraid to breathe. Afraid to move. Afraid to startle him. Afraid to stop whatever he was going to tell her. "I want you to know I've felt this way for a very long time, but I was afraid you wouldn't be happy to hear it. So I was waiting, but I guess my hand—and my heart—has been forced here. I love you, Natalie, and I will never regret telling you, or you knowing at last, although I may regret telling you like this!"

When Adrian finally took a breath, he looked carefully at Natalie and saw that her eyes were glistening. If the room hadn't been twenty-some-odd degrees, tears would have been streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh my God!"

"I knew it. You're repulsed." He tried to back away, but they were currently bound together by faux-fur. His movement had the effect of having them bounce together, and Natalie very clearly felt the nature of his feelings for her.

"No, Adrian, I am most definitely not repulsed. In fact, whatever the opposite of repulsed is, that is what I am. I have loved you for a long time, and not just because we were friends. I'm not sure when it started, but I can pinpoint when I knew. I realized I loved you when I thought you were dead all those years ago. I just never thought… I never let myself dream… Alright, I did let myself dream and fantasize… but I never thought you would really…" she cocked her head, "You love me?"

"I do. So much. You love me?"

"I do. So much." She smiled her gorgeous smile for him. All for him. Only for him.

He drew in a huge, excited breath. "Oh, Natalie!" He squeezed her more tightly and bent his head to capture her mouth with his. For a few glorious minutes, they forgot about their current circumstances and reveled in the new feeling of being loved by the object of their long-held desire. They were also warming up delightfully, so they forgot they had ever been cold. Natalie's phone rang, interrupting their moment, and she dug around in the coat pocket, causing both of them some self-consciousness and a few giggles until she located it.

"Natalie?" Leland yelled her name.

"Yes," she replied, a little awestruck and a little too happy for a person trapped in an ice storage room.

"The door seems to have created a vacuum seal. The electronic lock isn't working. We're getting an acetylene torch. Hang on in there. How's Monk?"

"He's just fine. We're both fine."

"Really?"

"Really!"

For another hour, with nowhere to sit, Adrian leaned on a set of wooden shelving that stored the ice blocks, and Natalie leaned on him, comfortably nestled between his legs. There was a lot of kissing and touching and whispering going on in the confines of that overly large fur coat. So much so that neither of the entranced pair noticed the sounds of the blowtorch as it finally broke through the thick metal of the door to give them their freedom.

"Well, lookeeeeee here," Randy said as he stepped into the storage room ahead of Leland.

Leland swatted him over the head with the file he'd had in hand and just smiled at his friends who'd finally figured out what everyone around them, except Randy, obviously, had known for ages.

"Monk, Natalie, you're free; let's get you out of here before you get frostbite," Leland said.

They broke apart and looked at each other with huge smiles. Adrian shot his oldest friend a sly smirk and responded, "I don't think frostbite is gonna be a problem, Leland." Natalie just bowed her head to Adrian's chest and snickered quietly.

"Okey dokey, we'll give you guys a minute to get… ah… presentable." Leland backed away because from what he could see, buttons were undone, and hands were in places no one else should see. So he dragged Randy, who was trying to take pictures for Sharona, along with him.

"Randy!" Leland, in his usual exasperated voice, made Adrian and Natalie laugh all the harder.

Natalie got her blouse tucked into her slacks, and Adrian buttoned his top two buttons that Natalie had undone for better access to his neck. Then she turned inside the coat and managed to unzip it, freeing them from their "love chrysalis." Being in that coat changed them both, and they emerged as a new entity from it. A "them" instead of the two lonely individuals who'd gone into it. The end result was a love that was more beautiful than the most spectacular butterfly. Natalie shrugged back into the coat that was at least four sizes too big for her. "I have news for you, former police detective Monk," she smirked and caught his hand in hers.

"What news is that?"

"I'm about to commit a crime!"

"Oh really?"

"Yep! I'm stealing this silly fake fur. Because I'm gonna take it home and lay it across your bed or my bed…and then…" she whispered the next part just in case Randy was eavesdropping, "We're going to make love on it!"

"Natalie!" Adrian drew in a deep breath as he said her name. She smiled a sassy smile at him, and all he could do was gulp air like a fish out of water when he thought about what she'd said and then follow her out the hole in the door. They ducked through the hole, and Adrian resolved the case quickly. Leland and Randy just looked at him, stunned that he solved the case and got the girl at the same time.

They left The Meat Locker, and as they reached the car, Adrian pulled Natalie against him as he leaned on the side of the car. They turned and looked at the sun rising on a new, beautiful day in San Francisco. He sighed in contentment. Natalie craned her neck so she could see his face. He looked as happy as she'd ever seen him. She smiled contentedly, wrapped in his arms, as they stood quietly together, as the sun rose.

Adrian whispered in her ear, "Let's go home, Natalie." She nodded quickly and glanced at the faux-fur in her backseat with a grin as she turned to go to the driver's side door. He caught her by the hand and pulled her back to kiss her once more. This time it was Natalie who sighed contentedly. They drove back to Adrian's apartment, the two happiest people in the whole city that day.

#FINIS#