God, he doesn't want to be here. He wants to be asleep, he wants to be dead -- but, he thinks, they both need this. She tells him he'll never learn. She's wrong.
"Adrian," she says, giving him a very annoyed, tired, frightened Look. "I don't want to do this right now."
"Well," he says, "Suck it up."
"You suck it up," she replies. It's automatic, now, and comes with a scowl.
What does she think he's doing? His idea of a perfect night does not involve the two of them in his living room... being distracted by her brightly colored pajama pants and discussing the fact that she smells like bubble gum and...
"And... chocolate-covered cherries," he says, and she raises her eyebrows. "You smell like bubble gum and chocolate-covered cherries."
"You're weird," she says. "Really damn weird."
He doesn't care that she's... that she's being moody again. He's too pleased with himself for finally figuring out what the other smell was. His eyes travel over her face, trying to decide whether or not she looks like a chocolate-covered cherry kind of person, when he remembers something. Trudy hated cherries. She said that... that it was cruel of nature to pre-determine which ones were coupled.
He stares at Sharona, mind beginning to work furiously. Curly, blonde hair; blue eyes; kind of... kind of pale skin. She's shorter, more -- more stylish, or with the times, or something. He tilts his head slightly to the side.
"Look," she says, sighing. "If you want an apology or something, fine. I'm sorry. Can I leave now?"
Can she leave? There's a question. Doesn't she tell him that he needs to talk about things to get through them? Doesn't she say that nothing good comes of... of hiding stuff? It's funny, he thinks, that when he does something she wants him to she suddenly changes her mind about it. It's funny, and... and annoying.
"No," he says. "You... you can't leave until we've talked about this."
She sighs again and mutters something. Mutters something else.
"So... so, are you gonna say anything?" he asks, hoping that he looks at least somewhat intimidating.
She thinks about it for a second. "Yeah. I'm gonna say this is stupid and I want to go home. You gonna say anything?"
Stupid. She thinks this is stupid. He's trying to solve a problem and she's busy criticizing his... his methods, as usual, and he's getting kind of angry. He mumbles something and she stands up, shaking his hand from her arm.
"What did you say?" she asks, Looking very... well, scary, but he can't be stopped. He's... he's Adrian Monk.
"You'll... you'll just think it's stupid," he says. "And... and if this is so... so stupid, why don't you just quit?"
Oh, my God!
He's stupid. Oh, God, he's so stupid. He always screws everything up, and she looks angry, and oh, God...
"Why don't you just fire me?" she asks, pulling the blanket tighter. " 'Cause, maybe I don't wanna quit."
"Maybe I don't want to fire you."
They stare at each other, both looking very solemn.His heart is pounding unevenly in his chest, and it's driving him insane that she's just standing there in complete silence. Her expression changes slightly, back into a Look and she gradually moves back to the sofa, sitting next to him.
"Maybe I don't want you to fire me,"
He turns his head and looks at her, pulse still racing beyond his control. "...Maybe I don't want you to... to quit."
The Look goes... goes kind of off, her eyes widen a little and... and she's getting closer to him. A lot closer. She's really close, now, and he can smell the bubble gum and chocolate covered cherries more than anything. Even more than his Country Breeze air sanitizer...
She sniffs his shirt. He lets out a very long, very relieved breath.
"You smell like Pine-Sol." she says, grinning.
He flashes a small smile, trying to hide the pterodactyl-sized butterflies beating around in his stomach. Her hand casually pats his shoulder and then comes to a rest on his knee.
He doesn't even notice.