Title: "Full of Surprises"
Author: Allison Lindsay
Disclaimer: Monk is not mine. How utterly depressing. Neither are the song lyrics used in this story.
Benjamin Fleming deposited his plate into the kitchen sink and announced, "I'm going over to Kenny's house."
"Wash that," his mother ordered, pointing to the dirty dish.
Her son groaned, but reached for the dishwashing detergent and did as he was told.
Sharona went into the living room and joined Adrian on the couch. "Was lunch okay?" she inquired.
"Yeah, it was good," Detective Monk replied with a smile.
His assistant reciprocated, then picked up a magazine from the coffee table and began flipping through it.
In the kitchen, Benjy dried his plate and replaced it in the cabinet above the sink. Grabbing his jacket, he started for the door. "Bye, Mom! Bye, Mr. Monk!" he called, waving.
"Be careful crossing the street! Look both ways!" his mother instructed.
The boy's expression said what am I, five-years-old?, and he was soon out the door.
"He's really something, isn't he?" Adrian commented, chuckling.
Sharona raised her eyebrows. "Something weird. You know, just the other day, he told me I have the coolest job in the world. He used to tell me I have the weirdest job in the world." She paused. "He must really like you."
"What's not to like?" her companion chaffed.
His assistant's orbs twirled a three-sixty before refocusing her attention on the magazine in her hands. She considered Benjy's comment. He was right. She did have the coolest job in the world, no matter how much she complained about it. Working for - and, more often, with - Adrian was pretty exciting. Every time she'd tell Benjy about another one of their adventures, he would listen attentively, his eyes widening in excitement as he hung on her every word. She was glad that Benjy liked Adrian. After all, Adrian was the most important man in her son's life . . and in hers.
"Sharona?"
The blonde felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. She snapped out of her thoughts. "Huh?"
A pair of concerned eyes searched hers. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Why?"
"Well, you . . . you were staring at me," Monk told her.
"I-I was?" the nurse stammered, calm replaced with discomfort.
Adrian nodded. "Is something wrong?"
"No," his companion denied. "Why would there be something wrong?" she demanded, suddenly springing to her feet.
"Where are you going?"
"Oh, I'm, uh . . . I'm going to Benjy's room to check on him."
"He's not here, Sharona. He went to Kenny's house," Adrian reminded his friend.
Sharona emitted a nervous laugh and smacked her forehead lightly. "Oh, that's right. I can't believe I forgot," she replied, sitting back down. For some reason, Sharona had been disoriented and distracted lately. For instance, two weeks ago, Benjy had asked if he could have a sleepover, and she had said: 'No, Benjy. Not on a school night.' Benjy had given her a weird look and replied: 'Mom, it's spring break. There is no school.'
The blonde snuck a peak at Adrian. His worried expression had not yet disappeared.
The detective placed a hand on his assistant's back. Although she jumped at his touch, Monk did not remove the appendage. "Sharona, are you sure you're all right?"
"Yeah, Adrian. I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me, okay?"
Monk nodded, though they both knew that he didn't believe her. Furthermore, Adrian could never not worry about Sharona. Sure, worrying was what he did best, but he cared so much about her. He started to rub her back gently, the way she sometimes rubbed his.
She smiled, but it was awkward and forced. Once again, Sharona attempted to devote her attention to her magazine. But concentration proved impossible; she simply could not shake her discomfort.
A couple more minutes passed before Adrian broke the silence. "Let's go out for dinner tonight," he suggested, taking his hand from her back.
Sharona looked up in surprise. The last time Adrian had gone out to dinner was when he went on that "date" with Monica Waters. "You mean like go to a restaurant?"
"Yeah. You, me, and Benjy. It'll be fun."
"Fun? Since when do you like fun?" his companion teased, slowly starting to relax.
"Well, I just thought I should try something new. Fun is new. Well, for me."
Sharona nodded her approval. "Wow, Adrian, I'm proud of you. Guess that whole flying thing turned you into a daredevil, huh?"
"I wouldn't go that far," the detective chuckled.
"Well, I'll call Benjy and tell him to come home by six," Sharona said, setting down her magazine and standing up.
While Sharona called her son, Adrian remained on the couch, fidgeting slightly. He really had no right to ask Sharona if she were okay, because he had been out of sorts, too. He shook his head, acknowledging that he was always out of sorts, but he had a feeling that it wasn't about the usual things this time.
The nurse hung up and rejoined Monk on the sofa. "Whatcha thinkin' about, Adrian?"
"Oh, nothing, nothing." Funny how he could always tell when other people were lying, but he himself could never tell a lie.
"Benjy said he wants to pick the restaurant."
Adrian gulped. "Th-That means we're having fast food, doesn't it? Hot dogs? Or-Or French fries?"
"No, he promised to pick some place nice. Well, actually, he said 'fancy'." The blonde pondered this for a second, then frowned. "I hope by 'fancy' he doesn't mean expensive."
"It's okay. It's my treat."
"Yeah?" That was twice in ten minutes that he had surprised her.
"I owe you."
His assistant started to say something, but Adrian cut her off. "You want to go for a walk?" he suggested.
"Yeah, sure," Sharona agreed. Getting up, she went to the coat closet, removing her black jacket and slipping it on. When she turned around, she almost bumped right into Adrian. They shared a nervous laugh as he smiled and held her purse out to her.
"Thanks."
"My pleasure."
As the blonde sat on Adrian's dark orange couch, waiting while he took his second daily shower, she thought about their walk. They had been silently strolling along when, out of the blue, Adrian slipped his hand in the crook of her arm. She smiled to herself, remembering the time that she had done the same, when the two had been discussing Trudy and what she had meant by bread-and-butter.
"I'm ready."
His voice snapped Sharona out of her reverie. "Hey! You're lookin' pretty sharp there, Adrian!" she exclaimed, admiring his outfit. Instead of his usual attire, Monk sported a black suit, white dress shirt, and a black-and-navy striped tie.
Sharona examined her own outfit - dark blue jeans and a black v-neck shirt. "I feel so underdressed. We'd better get back so I can change." So saying, she grabbed her purse from the coffee table and walked swiftly to the door. Adrian quickly checked the stove and then hurried after her.
Back at the Fleming apartment, Adrian sat at the dining room table, tapping his fingers on the wooden surface. He was a mixture of anxious and excited. The detective glanced at his watch for the umpteenth time. 5:45. Benjy would be home soon.
About five minutes later, Sharona emerged from her bedroom, walking into the dining room and standing on the opposite side of the table. She wore a low-cut, baby blue dress covered with sparkling sequins. Her hair was completely down, parted almost perfectly at the center, a style she wore only occasionally. She had never looked better. "Well? What do ya think?"
Adrian looked up at her. All of a sudden, his throat tightened, and he found himself gasping for breath.
Sharona's eyes grew wide, and she ran to his side, kneeling down next to him. "Adrian! Adrian, breathe! Breathe, Adrian!"
Monk took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down.
"Adrian, what happened?"
The detective discerned terror in her cerulean eyes. "Sharona, you-you're . . ."
"I'm what, Adrian? Adrian, what is it?" his assistant demanded, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Monk glanced down at the appendage and then up into her face again. "Sharona, you're . . . breathtaking."
The blonde's eyes expanded even larger in diameter, only this time with shock and not with terror. After a few seconds, she stood up slowly and walked to the kitchen, returning a minute later with a glass of water, which she set down on the table before occupying the seat across from the detective. Her boss took a sip of the liquid and glanced at Sharona, who averted her eyes. For the next ten minutes, neither one spoke.
Sharona thought about what had just taken place. She had never expected any man, least of all Adrian Monk, to bestow upon her that great of a compliment. In the five years that she had known him, Adrian had not once commented on the way she looked. The most he had ever said was: "That's a nice jacket, Sharona." Now, however, she wondered if what he had really meant was: "You look nice in that jacket, Sharona." Of course, that was a far cry from breathtaking, but it still made an important difference.
On the other side of the table, Adrian was also mulling over what had previously ensued. He couldn't comprehend what had come over him. He saw Sharona every day, and all of a sudden, she was breathtaking? It didn't make sense. Her make-up was no different, and he had seen her with her hair like that before. Nevertheless, Monk acknowledged, he could not have chosen a more perfect word, as he had meant it figuratively as well as literally. The detective tried to convince himself that the dress had made all the difference, because this was the first time that he had seen her in it, but he knew that wasn't true. He didn't react this way any of the other times he had seen Sharona wearing a new dress.
After what seemed like years, the duo heard the front door open, and in walked Benjy.
"Mom?" he called. "Where are you?"
Sharona straightened and cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure as best she could. She didn't want her son to think that something was wrong. If Adrian looked distraught, Benjy wouldn't think anything of it, but if she did, he would definitely notice. "I'm in here, Benjy! In the dining room!"
The boy appeared a moment later and frowned slightly when he saw them. "You guys are all dressed up. Does that mean I have to get dressed up, too?"
His mother nodded, though she hadn't really heard what her son had said.
With a sigh, Benjy went into his room, shutting the door behind him.
Sharona glanced up at the nervous man across from her. "Um . . . are you okay?"
Adrian nodded and met her gaze. "I-I think I'm better now." Taking another sip of water, he displayed a tentative smile. His companion returned it, then quickly dropped her eyes.
"Thank you, Adrian," she said after a few seconds, her voice barely above a whisper.
"For what?"
Though she wanted to look him in the eye again, she couldn't bring herself to do so. "For the compliment."
Sharona could almost feel her boss's grin broadening. "You're welcome," he said.
They again sat in awkward silence, waiting for Benjy to get ready. Approximately ten minutes later, the boy came out of his room. He had changed into a blue collared shirt and beige dress pants and had combed his hair neatly. "I'm done," he proclaimed, stepping back into the dining room.
"You look nice, Benjy," his mother praised him.
"Thanks. So do you." Turning to Adrian, the child commented, "You too, Mr. Monk."
The detective managed a faint smile of appreciation. Pushing his chair back, he stood erect and inquired, "So, where are we going?"
Benjy removed a folded piece of paper from his back pants pocket and handed it to his mother. Sharona opened it up and read, "Dine-N-Dance . . . That doesn't sound too fancy."
"It is," her son assured her. "I read about it on the Internet. It just opened like two weeks ago. The food's supposed to be good."
"Okay, then. Let's go," Sharona enthused, though she was not nearly as excited as she purported. Heading into the kitchen, she grabbed her car keys from the counter. Benjy and Adrian, who had finally started to feel a little more at ease, followed her out the door.
Inside the restaurant, Adrian surveyed the large establishment from their table near the dance floor. It was a nice place, he had to admit. Simple décor, clean tablecloth and utensils. He looked over Sharona's shoulder to the stage at the opposite end of the dance floor. A group of men were setting up equipment and doing sound checks.
"I wonder when the singer will get here," he remarked.
Sharona looked up from her menu. "What?"
He pointed behind her, and she turned towards the stage. "The singer. I wonder when he'll get here."
"It's a 'she,'" Benjy corrected politely. "And she'll get here around seven."
Adrian smiled at him. "You've really done your research on this place, haven't you?"
"Yep," Benjy said, taking a bite of his bread stick.
"So, what are you gonna have?" Sharona asked Adrian.
"I think I'll have the Fettuccine," he told her.
The eyebrows went up again. "As in Fettuccine Alfredo? But . . . that's not plain."
"Well, I'm just going to have the Fettuccine. They can keep the Alfredo."
"Oh, okay. You know, you had me going there for a moment, Adrian," she responded, laughing.
"Well . . ." he began, reconsidering. "M-Maybe I'll get the Alfredo sauce on the side. Then, I can . . . taste it."
It was Benjy's turn to do the eyebrow raise. "You mean, you're gonna try something new?"
Adrian nodded. "I'd be making progress," he replied, although he was looking at Sharona as he spoke.
She gave him a small smile. "You already are."
They stared at each other for a moment. Benjy didn't notice. He had directed his attention to the dessert selection on the back of the menu.
"Hey, Mom? Can we get chocolate chip pizza for dessert?"
Sharona's eyes left Adrian's and focused on her son. "What is that?"
"Just a big chocolate chip cookie cut into pizza slices," he told her.
"We'll see."
"Did-Did you know that, if you don't wash your hands for fifteen seconds, you might as well have not washed them all?" Adrian asked, out of nowhere.
"I knew that!" Benjy exclaimed, temporarily forgetting about dessert. "I learned that in health class." Then, he added proudly, "I pay close attention in that class."
"You should pay that much attention in math class," his mother put in.
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know, I know."
Sharona reached for a roll, then paused, her hand hovering over the bread basket.
"What's wrong?" Adrian asked her. "Is there a . . . bug?" He made a disgusted face.
She took her hand away and looked down at it. "No, no. It's just that, um, I think I missed a few seconds."
"What do . . . Ohhh." Adrian smiled, realizing what she was talking about.
She scanned the restaurant until she found the sign marked 'Restrooms.' "I'll be right back," she mumbled as she got up from the table and headed for the bathroom. Adrian watched her walk away, shaking her head in disbelief.
"You're starting to wear off on her, Mr. Monk," Benjy commented, winking at him.
Adrian laughed softly. "It was bound to happen sooner or later," he said, shrugging.
Benjy's voice turned serious then. "You know, Mr. Monk, um . . . I don't know if I ever told you this . . . but I really like you."
Adrian gave him a big smile. "I really like you, too, Benjy."
"Do you . . . Do you ever . . ." He shook his head. "N-Never mind."
"Benjy," Adrian prodded gently. "What's on your mind?"
Benjy took a deep breath and put his bread stick down. "Do you ever . . . think of me like a son?" he asked quietly, afraid to make eye contact.
Adrian took a minute to think about the question. "Yes. Yes, I do, Benjy."
The boy's face lit up. "Really?"
"You know I can't lie," he replied, smiling.
Benjy smiled back and nodded. "Yeah, I know."
Sharona returned to the table a moment later. "What are you two smiling about?" she asked as she retook her place across from Adrian. She picked up the roll that she had wanted.
"Mr. Monk thinks of me like a son," Benjy beamed.
Sharona was surprised. She knew that Adrian liked Benjy very much, but she had no idea that he thought of him that way.
"Benjy . . . . do you think of Adrian like a . . . father?" It was a very logical question, but she hoped that she hadn't made either of them uncomfortable.
Her son didn't even have to think before giving his reply. "Of course," he stated, matter-of-factly. "I've thought about him like that ever since that vacation we took. You know, the one where I saw that murder. He was the only one who believed me. He said that he didn't have to be my dad to believe me, but still . . . I kind of looked at him a little differently after that."
Adrian and Sharona looked at each, not sure what to say.
"Are you ready to order?"
Startled, the two looked up simultaneously at the smiling young woman holding a pad of paper and a pencil. They hadn't even noticed her walk up.
"Oh, um, I-I'll have the . . . the . . ." For the life of her, Sharona could not remember what she wanted.
The waitress's smile faded. She sighed and turned to Adrian. "Do you know what you want, sir?"
"Fettuccine."
"Fettuccine Alfredo," the waitress said as she scribbled on the pad.
"I want the Alfredo on the side."
She stopped writing and scoffed. "Excuse me?"
"You heard what he said," Benjy told her in his most grown-up voice. "He wants the Alfredo on the side."
The waitress frowned at Benjy and scribbled on the pad again. "And you, little boy? What will you have?"
"Cheese ravioli."
She made a note of that and then looked at Sharona again. "Now do you remember what you wanted?" she asked, visibly annoyed.
Sharona glared at her. She decided she would have a little fun with this bimbo. "I'll have the manicotti." She winked at Adrian before continuing. "Now, I'd like the noodles served by themselves. Plain, like his Fettuccine. I want the ricotta cheese on the side. To the left of the noodles, not to the right. I'm left-handed. It'll make it easier. And I want the marinara sauce in a separate dish. That way, I can make it just the way I like it. Oh, and no parsley or other fancy garnish. Did you get all that?" She smiled with satisfaction at the gaping bimbo.
Next to her, Benjy was holding his hand over his mouth, laughing silently. Adrian tried to hold his laughter in but was unsuccessful. He let out a snicker and then quickly covered his own mouth.
The waitress inhaled sharply and shot each of them an angry look. "Will that be all?"
"Anybody want anything to drink?" Sharona asked her two red-faced companions.
They shook their heads.
"No, that's all."
"Very well, then. Thank you," the waitress said through gritted teeth, then yanked their menus from them and walked away quickly.
As soon as she was gone, the three of them started laughing hysterically. They continued like this for several minutes, until they heard a loud crackling sound. They looked over at the stage to see an elegantly dressed woman adjusting the microphone. When she had it positioned exactly the way she wanted it, she cleared her throat and began to speak.
"Welcome to Dine-N-Dance. My name is Melinda, and I'll be your entertainment for this evening." While the singer continued with her introductions, several eager couples ventured onto the dance floor.
"You should go dance, Mom," Benjy suggested.
"With whom?"
Benjy rolled his eyes. "Ha. Uh, no offense, but don't you think that's a pretty stupid question?" he asked, pointing to Adrian.
Sharona could feel her face flush. "I-I don't think Mr. Monk wants to dance."
"Well, he can speak for himself." Benjy looked at Adrian. "Well, Mr. Monk? What do ya say?" He put his hand on his mom's shoulder. "How 'bout a dance with this gorgeous lady?"
The boy waited for a response, glancing back and forth at both of them. "Oh, go on! You know you want to!" he urged in a voice that seemed to say: 'I know something you don't know.'
Very slowly, Adrian rose from his chair and moved to stand next to Sharona. The breathtaking blond gazed up at him, and soon, another soft squeak was heard, as she pushed her own chair back and stood.
The two made their way out to the middle of the polished wood floor. Then they just stood there, facing each other, about a foot apart, each waiting for the other to make the first move.
Sharona was the one to take the initiative. "Um, p-put you hands here," she said, patting her hips. "That way, you won't-you won't really have to touch me."
Adrian put his index finger under Sharona's chin and lifted her head to meet his gaze. "No, we have to do it like everyone else," he said sofltly. "O-Otherwise, it'll be . . . unbalanced . . ." Taking her right hand in his left, he placed his other hand on her lower back. Sharona placed her left hand on his shoulder, and they began to move to the music.
Are those your eyes?
Is that your smile?
I've been looking at you forever,
But I never saw you before.
Are these your hands, holding mine?
Now, I wonder how I could have been so blind
Adrian's eyes bore into hers. She swallowed hard, afraid to form any thoughts, knowing he'd be able to read them. She tried to look at something else. First, she glanced over at the their table. Benjy had turned his seat all the way around and was flashing a cheesy grin . . . Hey, what was he so happy about? Next, she tried to focus on a painting on the wall behind Adrian. Unfortunately, it was a depiction of a man and a woman kissing, so that was no good, either. Her eyes had nothing else to look at but the man whose hand she was holding.
Can this be real?
Can this be true?
Am I the person I was this morning?
And are you the same you?
It's all so strange.
How can it be?
All along this love was right in front of me
As she refocused her gaze on Adrian, he gripped her hand a little tighter. "This is a really nice song, Sharona." He wanted to say something to make her feel more at ease, but that was the only thing he could come up with.
His dancing partner nodded. "Yeah," she replied, giving him a small smile.
Such a long time ago,
I had given up on finding this emotion, ever again.
But you're here with me now.
Yes, I found you somehow.
And I've never been so sure.
And for the first time, I am looking in your eyes.
For the first time, I am seeing who you are.
I can't believe how much I see,
When you're looking back at me.
Now, I understand what love is, love is,
For the first time.
Just seconds later, the band played the final notes of the ballad, and Adrian released Sharona's hand. "W-We should probably get back to our table. Benjy might be getting lonely."
"Okay," she agreed reluctantly, not even trying to mask her disappointment.
As they approached, Benjy turned his chair so that he was facing the table again. "Well? Did you have fun, Mom?"
"Mm-hmm," she answered, avoiding Adrian's gaze.
"Did you have fun, Mr. Monk?"
Adrian didn't even hear him. He was too busy thinking about the few wonderful moments that had just passed.
Benjy studied Mr. Monk's face. The boy didn't need Adrian to verbally answer his question; the detective's dreamy expression said enough. Yep, he definitely had fun.
Adrian once again found himself on Sharona's couch, squirming, even more than he had been this afternoon. They hadn't spoken since they finished dancing, and Adrian wanted very much to talk with her. He had insisted that she drive him home after she had gotten Benjy ready for bed, instead of on the way back from the restaurant, which would have made more sense. Sharona hadn't even argued, so he figured that she must have wanted to talk, too.
A pajama-clad Benjy came out of his bedroom. He walked over to Adrian and sat down next to him. Adrian gave the boy a weak smile and then began tapping his fingers on the arm of the couch. Benjy watched him for a moment, then spoke.
"You're in love with her, aren't you?"
Adrian was not as surprised by the question as he had expected to be. He stopped tapping and slowly turned to Benjy and nodded. "How did you know?"
Benjy smiled and folded his arms. "It wasn't too hard to figure out."
The detective leaned forward and peered down the hallway.
"She's in her bedroom," the boy told him.
Adrian sat back. He looked at Benjy again. "When-When did you figure it out?"
"Well," Benjy started, "When I called my mom 'gorgeous,' you both turned red. And you were afraid to dance with each other. I mean, I know you don't like touching people, Mr. Monk, but you never really seemed to mind touching my mom before."
Adrian nodded, so Benjy continued. "But that was just minor stuff. The way you were looking at each other when you were dancing, well, that was the dead give away. I thought you guys were gonna kiss any second. Then, when you came back to the table, you and Mom looked like you were in 'la-la' land. You both seemed really happy." He smiled, signaling that he was finished.
"So, do you-do you think that your mom . . . is in love with me, too?" Adrian asked quietly.
Benjy nodded. "Yeah." He paused for a moment. "Actually, um, I kind of already knew that she was in love with you before I knew that you were in love with her."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, see, these past few months, I noticed that she wasn't getting frustrated with you as much as she usually does. And she'd say really nice things about you all the time, and by 'all the time,' I mean every day. Stuff like: 'Mr. Monk is a really great guy,' or 'Mr. Monk is such a genius. He's so amazing.' I don't think she really knew, though, you know?"
"Knew what?"
"That she was in love with you," the boy explained. "I mean, I don't think she had realized it yet. But she did tonight. I know my mom realized her feelings tonight . . . And so did you."
"Wow," Adrian said, very impressed. "You're very perceptive."
"I know," he gloated jokingly. "So, you're gonna talk to her, right? Tell her how you feel?"
Adrian nodded, but he looked very worried. "Wh-What if I can't tell her? What if I can't say what I feel? What-What should I do?"
Benjy felt very important. The brilliant Mr. Monk had asked a child for advice.
"Do you think I should write her a note?" Adrian asked, before Benjy could give him a suggestion of his own. "You know, in case-in case I can't say what I need to say. What do you think of that?"
"Yeah, that might help," the boy agreed. "And maybe I could talk to her first."
Adrian considered this. "Yeah, that's a good idea, too, Benjy."
Sharona's bedroom door opened. "Benjy!" she called from the doorframe. She had changed back into the outfit she was wearing this afternoon.
Benjy winked at Adrian and then walked over to his mother.
"Time for bed."
"But it's early," he whined.
Sharona gave him a 'look' and pointed to his bedroom. "Bed. Now. Go."
While his assistant took care of her son, Adrian decided to clean. He could organize his thoughts while he organized her apartment. He started with the magazines on the coffee table, arranging them in a neat pile, with the oldest issue on the bottom and the most recent one on the top. After completing that task, Monk headed for the hall closet, where the hand-held vacuum cleaner was stored, and went to work on the couch.
"I have to fix this mess!" Benjy protested, as Sharona tried to usher him into his bed. "Look at this!" he exclaimed, motioning to the heap of comic books and action figures that cluttered the carpeting.
She rolled her eyes. "You can do that in the morning. You sound like Mr. Monk."
"Hey, you're the one who had to wash your hands twice!" he reminded her, and they both laughed.
When the laughter subsided, Benjy's voice turned serious. "Mom, can we talk?"
"Um . . . sure," she said hesitantly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Her son came over and sat next to her.
"Yes, Benjy?"
He wondered how he should go about this. He finally decided that he should just blurt it out. "Mom, Mr. Monk is in love with you."
She was not sure that she had heard him correctly. "Wh-What did you say?"
"Mr. Monk is in love with you," he stated again.
"Mr. Monk is what?"
"Mr. Monk . . . is . . . in love . . . with you," he repeated very slowly, hoping that she would get it this time.
Sharona turned away from him and then stared at the Spiderman poster on the wall. Benjy watched her, not knowing what to say. After what seemed like an hour, she finally spoke again. "Why?" she asked, turning to her son with an inquisitive look.
He was a little confused by the question. "Why what?"
"Why is Mr. Monk in love with me?"
"Ohh . . ." Benjy had to think about how he should answer. "Well . . . you're nice . . . smart . . . pretty . . . um . . ." He didn't really know what should come next. "I think Mr. Monk could probably answer that question a lot better than I can, Mom."
Sharona nodded absentmindedly. Then, she got up and started for the door.
"Mom."
She slowly turned back around. "Hmm?"
"One more thing."
"What?" she asked quietly, a little afraid to hear what Benjy was about to say.
Her son looked her directly in the eye. "You're in love with Mr. Monk."
Sharona blinked. She had had a feeling that those were the words that would come out of his mouth. Without saying anything, she turned around again and left the room, heading into her own. She closed the door and sat down on her bed.
Benjy wasn't sure what to do. Should he go and tell Mr. Monk what had happened? Should he see if his mom were all right? After a moment of deliberation, he decided that the best thing for him to do was to go to bed.
Back in her room, Sharona had begun pacing rapidly. A thousand thoughts were running through her mind. Was she in love with Adrian? If she were, why was she in love with him? How long had she been in love with him? Was he really in love with her? He must be. Benjy wouldn't have told her if it weren't true. In fact, Adrian had probably just told Benjy that he was in love with her when they were talking in the living room. She stopped pacing and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She sat on the bed again and shut her eyes.
"Okay . . . am I in love with Adrian Monk? That is the million dollar question."
Adrian finished up in the kitchen. The only thing left to clean in the immediate area was the carpet, but he wasn't really up to it. He returned to the couch and began to watch the clock, counting the minutes as they passed. He soon remembered that the last time he had done this, he had given himself a headache, so he decided to write the note. He walked over to the table where the phone rested and picked up the notepad that Sharona used for taking messages. He removed a pen from the drawer and went back to the couch. He spent five minutes deciding what to write but only five seconds writing it. When he was done, he folded the note carefully and placed it in his jacket pocket. Then, he folded his hands in his lap and waited for Sharona.
She re-emerged from her bedroom moments later. Adrian looked up when he saw her standing in the doorway, gazing down at the floor. Sharona sighed and slowly walked over to him, keeping her head down. When she did look up, he could see that she had been crying. He stood. "Sharona, I-"
"Wait," she interrupted, holding up her hand. "Me first. If I don't say this now, I might never say it."
He nodded and sat back down.
Sharona took a deep breath. "Adrian, I need to apologize for some things." She paused, but he knew better than to speak. When she began again, she spoke quickly, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. "Adrian, I'm sorry for all those times that I've lost patience with you. I should've been more understanding, but I wasn't, okay? I was insensitive. And I'm sorry.
"I'm sorry for that time when I met that guy in the park, and he asked me if we were together, and I laughed. And then, when you said: 'It's not that funny,' I said: 'Yes, it is,' and I kept laughing. I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry.
"I'm sorry about that time when that-that idiot comedian was making fun of you, a-and I just sat there like I didn't care or-or like I didn't know what was going on, but I did care, and I did know. And I should've said something or gotten you out of there. But I didn't, and I should have. I know I should have. But I just let you suffer, and I can't believe I did that." Her voice was starting to break, but she kept going.
"And I'm sorry for all those times that I quit or threatened to quit. You are always there for me, Adrian. Always. And I'm not always there for you. And I'm sorry for anything else I ever did or didn't do, or-or said or didn't say that hurt you . . . I'm sorry, Adrian. I am so sorry . . . But I don't want you to think that I'm just saying all this stuff just so I can get it off my conscience or something. No, I'm saying it because I'm genuinely sorry and because I'm . . . and because I'm . . . I'm . . ." Realizeing that the words were not going to come, Sharona sighed heavily and removed a crumpled piece of paper from her front jeans pocket. "I'm . . . what it says here," she whispered, holding it out to him.
Adrian carefully opened the pink square. "'I'm in love with you,'" he read out loud.
Sharona sighed again and sank onto the couch, out of breath. She wiped the tears from her eyes and slowly turned to look at him. "That was really hard," she said, giving him a small smile.
Monk looked up from the piece of paper and smiled back. "I know. You did great."
"Thanks," Sharona replied with a weak laugh.
Adrian was about to say something when Sharona cut him off again. "You know, I-I always wondered why I came back every time I quit. At first, it was for selfish reasons. I loved our 'adventures,' what can I say? I still love 'em . . . But, uh, but over time, I started to realize that there was more to it. I realized that, um, I really care about you. I mean, I've always cared about you, but, um, it became . . . I don't know . . . different. I would get excited about seeing you, even if we weren't about to go solve some big case. And-And I noticed that I haven't been losing my patience so easily with you . . . these past few months. And I'd tell Benjy really nice things about you all the time. Um, and then today . . . today kinda put everything into perspective for me. I mean, everything that happened in these past like eight hours forced me to think about how I really feel about you . . . And I realized that I've come to see you as . . . as more than a friend. I realized that I'm-"
"-in love with you," Adrian finally interrupted her.
She nodded. "Yeah."
"No, no, I mean . . . I'm in love . . . with you."
His assistant smiled widely and wiped away more tears. Setting down her note, Monk pulled out his and handed it to her. "I wasn't sure I could say it, either." Sharona unfolded the piece of paper, and Adrian watched her eyes sparkle as she read the very same words that she had written to him.
"Benjy thought it would be a good idea . . . you know, to write the note," he explained. "He must have suggested it to you, too."
She shook her head.
Adrian was a little surprised. "He didn't?"
"No."
"Well, great minds think alike, right?" he remarked, chuckling.
"I don't think my mind will ever be as great as yours, Adrian."
"You know, um, every time you'd quit, I would to say to myself: 'I can't live without her.' Then, after . . . after awhile, I realized that, um, even if I could . . . live without you . . . I wouldn't want to."
The two sat in silence for a moment, smiling warmly at each other, and then Sharona got up and walked to the stereo sitting on a nearby shelf. Tucking his note into her pocket, she thumbed through her CDs until she found the one that she was looking for and inserted into the appropriate compartment.
As he listened to the first few bars, he realized that he had heard the very same song only hours before. He looked up at her. "This-This is the song that we danced to, the one you said you love. This is . . . This is our song."
She turned around and smiled at him. He stood and walked over to her. "May I have this dance?"
Sharona giggled. "You don't want to dance with me now, Adrian. I look terrible." In response to her protest, Monk took her hand and placed his other one on the small of her back.
"No, you don't. You're breathtaking, remember?"
She giggled again and put her hand on his shoulder. "This has been some day," she said as they started dancing.
"Full of surprises."
"Lots of surprises . . . But good ones."
Adrian thought for a second. "Here's another," he said, leaning in and kissing her on the lips.
The kiss lasted through the entire first chorus of the song. When their lips parted, Sharona smiled and whispered to him, "And that was the best of all of 'em."
End.
"For the First Time" is written by James Newton Howard, Allan Dennis Rich, and Jud Friedman; sung by Kenny Loggins