Chapter 1: Discovery

"One…two…three…four…fi- Sharona!"

"What now, Adrian?"

"You're missing one of your salad forks." Monk and Sharona were at her house, watching over Benjy, who had a cold. Sharona was there because Benjy was her son, but Monk didn't have a choice in the matter – she refused to drive him home until Benjy was feeling better. She knew he wouldn't walk home ("it's dark, and there are…things out there," he said), so he was proceeding to tell Sharona everything she was missing in her kitchen.

"So? I probably lost it or something," she responded. "Besides, I never use salad forks."

"But," Monk stumbled, "I've seen you eat salads before."

"That doesn't mean I use a salad fork," she pointed out. "Can you hand me that bottle of cough medicine?"

"It has germs on it," he said distastefully. Sharona gave him her famous look, and he reluctantly picked it up and handed it to her. "Are you sure it's a good idea for me to be here? I mean, just think of the bacteria!"

"Thank you, Adrian, but I am not leaving Benjy alone," she insisted. Monk thought about wringing his hands, realized that would make them unnecessarily sweaty, and put them down at his sides. "It's just a head cold, Adrian. It's not like it's the Hanta virus."

"Oh, God!" Monk exclaimed. Sharona rolled her eyes at him and retreated to Benjy's bedroom, cough syrup in hand.

Monk wandered around Sharona's house, picking things up and putting them in their correct places. (By the time he was done there, Sharona wouldn't recognize her own house, let alone know where anything was.) As he was cleaning, he came across a CD from the band The Knack. It proclaimed, "Including #1 hit 'My Sharona!'"

"My Sharona," Monk muttered to himself. "That's the most ridiculous name for a song I've ever heard." Almost as if by saying the words, it would make it true, but not quite feeling that way himself, he opened the CD case and took out the liner. As he read through the lyrics, a smile came to his face, and he tried to imagine the beat of the song. Was it slow? Fast? What type of music was it? Country? Hip-hop? Heavy metal?

Suddenly, Sharona came back into the room, and Monk hurriedly put the CD away. "Okay, Benjy's finally asleep, so I can drive you home now."

"Shouldn't you take a shower or something first?" he asked her.

"Just get in the car before I lock you out and make you walk home," Sharona ordered. He obeyed and got into the car, thinking about the song the entire way back to his house.

"Sharona, what type of music do you listen to?" he finally asked her.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "Since when do you care what kind of music I listen to?"

"I'm just…curious," he responded, shrugging.

"Just when I think I have you all figured out," she muttered. "Alright, okay, I guess I like stuff from the '80's. You know, new wave?" She turned her head and looked at Monk, who was giving her a blank stare. "So, you don't know what new wave is…"

"Sharona, watch where you're going," Monk ordered her.

"Relax, would ya? Oh, right – you don't know how." A smile crept onto her face, and Monk scowled. "Okay, new wave music is a form of rock music…they used a lot of keyboards and electronic sounds. The lyrics were pretty strange, too, but it's the kind of music I listened to when I was a teenager."

"You're too old to have listened to '80's music when you were a teenager," Monk corrected her.

"How do you figure?" she asked, annoyed. "I'm not as old as you think I am."

"How old are you? 33? 34?" he asked.

Sharona looked at him incredulously. "How the hell did you know how old I was?"

Monk shook his finger at the windshield. "Sharona, the road…"

"You're the one that started this conversation," she muttered, facing the road again.

"So, back to the '80's music…" Monk said, remembering the direction he was going with the conversation.

"Adrian, we're here. You're free to go vaccuum or dust or whatever you do at this time of night."

Monk got out of Sharona's station wagon, thought a minute, then leaned down so he was even with the window. Sharona rolled the window down and leaned across the seat.

"What is it Adrian? Did you forget something?"

"No, I – I just wanted to apologize to you."

Sharona looked taken aback. "For what?"

Monk looked extremely nervous. "I know I upset you with the guessing your age thing, but I just figured in how old you were when you had Benjy, and how old he is now…"

"Wow," Sharona said softly. "You actually listen to me when I talk."

"Of course I do, Sharona," Monk said, loosening up a bit. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, I don't know," Sharona admitted. "I always figured my life was boring to you. I mean, you used to be a cop. I'm sure you saw a lot more exciting stuff when you were working."

"Trudy always wanted to have children," Monk said softly, more to himself than to Sharona.

Sharona reached out the window and touched Monk's arm. "Why didn't you?"

"I never wanted them," he responded. He started laughing sadly, explaining, "I didn't want to bring children into a world already so full of hurt and pain. They're messy, too."

Sharona smiled slightly. "You could've kept them safe though, Adrian. You were a cop. That's a policeman's job."

"I couldn't keep Trudy safe," he murmured, head down.

"Oh, Adrian," Sharona said softly. She got out of the car and stood in front of him, taking his hands in hers without even thinking about it. "There was no way you could've known. It wasn't your fault."

Surprisingly, Monk didn't pull away from Sharona's touch – it almost seemed like he needed her comfort. "I know. Thanks for listening to me," he said to her. Suddenly, without thinkin, he was leaning towards her.

"Adrian," Sharona said, a little worried, "what are you doing?" He didn't answer her with words, just with a quick peck on the cheek, then he quickly turned around and went to his house.

Sharona was still standing in shock, and she slowly raised a hand to her cheek. "I'll be damned," she muttered to herself, getting a small smile on her face.

She got in her car and prepared to drive home as Monk watched her from his bedroom window.