Lactaphobia 6
Disclaimer: I do not own that Funky Monky. However, it should be noted
that, as far as this fic goes, I am the one who makes him funky.
A/N: Okay, okay, I get the point-longer chapters! I promise!
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"Oh my God!" Sharona was white as a sheet. Adrian had walked to the
desk in his apartment and picked up the phone. "What are you doing?" She
asked, though she had an idea.
"Calling Stottlemyer. I'm off this case."
"Oh, no, you're not! I want you to catch this scumbag! You're the
only one who can do that. He knows it. It's just a bluff, he's only
trying to scare you."
"Well, he's doing a good job." Monk started to dial.
"No," Sharona said firmly.
Adrian looked flabbergasted. "You are not the boss of me. In, fact,
last time I checked, I was the boss of you!"
Sharona rolled her eyes. "'The boss of me?' That sounds like
something Benjy would say! Anyway, you've gotten threats from bad guys
before, what's the big deal?"
"I am - was a cop. If a criminal threatens ME, it's just part of the
job, I can handle that. But I'm not about to put you and Benjy in danger.
They'll manage this case without me."
"Okay, boss business aside, I am begging you to stay on this case."
She paused. "What would it take for you to change your mind?"
He thought about that for a moment. "You and Benjy have to stay
someplace safe until this whole thing is over with."
"Won't Captain Stottlemyer take care of that?"
"He would. Let's call him."
Sharona gave him the look. "Okay, no help from the department."
"Hey, don't you have a sister nearby."
"Oh, no, I am NOT staying at Gail's. I'd rather let the Milkman have
me!"
"What about a hotel? Could you stay at a hotel?"
"Hotels require money, Monk. How are we supposed to stay in a hotel
when you never pay me?"
By now, Monk's annoyance meter, which could only safely go to three
point two, was at nine. "Alright you can stay at my apartment. I'll let
you have the sofa." He acted as though this was the biggest sacrifice in
the world.
"I'm thrilled."
Sharona was snapped out of her sarcasm by the ringing of the phone.
Monk picked it up. "Hello? Yeah, just a minute." He handed the phone
off. "Benjy."
"Yeah?" She listened. "Are his parents gonna be there?" Pause.
"Have you done your math homework? Yeah, fine. Don't forget to brush your
teeth."
"And floss!" Monk added loud enough to be heard on the other end.
Sharona rolled her eyes.
"Bye." She hung up the phone. "He's staying at Joey's." She looked
down. "You don't think there's any way the Milkman knows where he's at. .
." she drifted.
"No," Monk said firmly. "Honestly, I doubt it. I was just thinking
about that. The Milkman started killing five days ago. I haven't seen
Benjy for two weeks. I seriously doubt he even knows you have a son, and
I'm certain he wouldn't know where to look for him." He paused before
summing up. "He's safe."
Sharona nodded. "If only the same could be said for me."
"You'll be fine. My apartment has three locks, and - I thought you
weren't afraid of the Milkman."
"I'm not. You, on the other hand. . .You're scary."
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Better? Hope so. I know the whole thing about not turning the letter in
is very unrealistic but. . .
I don't care.
How could I resist when an opportunity came up for a sleep-over???? (The
story is still rated G).
I don't want Stottlemyer in the story, no offense, but he's boring. And I
really don't want Randy in the story. I just don't like him.
I still don't care.
Love you! ~LMR
