Chapter 3: Talking About "Talking"

Sharona blinked rapidly in succession, blown away by his words. 'He has to be joking. There's absolutely no way he was going to kiss me. This is Adrian we're talking about,' she thought to herself. She turned away from him, not wanting him to see the effect his words had on her.

"Sharona?" he questioned nervously. She ignored him and continued to think about his words as he wondered if he had made the right decision in telling her.

He was going to kiss her. He had thought about it, at least. That meant a lot, considering his phobia of germs. Maybe he was getting over his fear of germs – no, that wasn't it. He still had the urge to sterilize everything he owned before he used it. Maybe it was just Sharona.

He raised his eyes to look at her. She did the same from where she was standing. She looked so beautiful tonight. She usually looked beautiful, but tonight... Monk was surprised Disher hadn't made his way over to be shot down by her yet again.

Sharona hesitantly took a step towards Monk. She didn't want to scare him off, and she was afraid she might have already done that by turning her back on him. But, to be completely honest, what he said scared the hell out of her. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready for him to kiss her.

"Adrian?" she asked softly, lightly laying her hand on his arm. "I-I'm sorry."

Monk looked confused. "Sorry for what? I don't understand."

"I didn't mean to turn away from you," she explained. She let out a deep breath and continued. "What you said, about kissing me, did you really mean that?"

Now Monk looked scared. "I-I-I..." he stammered.

"Because if you did mean it," she quickly put in, "I'm okay with it." He looked at her with wide eyes. "Yeah, I know it's a little weird. But I can't let you not let go of your fears. I'm your nurse, after all. If you're ready to," she gulped, "kiss me, then I'm going to have to say, go for it."

Monk was slowly turning the color of a ripe tomato, and he was rubbing his hands nervously on his pants. He looked down to see that he was getting sweat all over and started panicking. "Oh, God...there's a stain...I need to get it out." He started rubbing his pants more furiously, this time attempting to remove the stain.

"Adrian, Adrian," Sharona calmed, quickly coming over and taking his hands. "Look at me." He looked up, a frightened and sad look in his eyes. He looked like a little boy when he looked at her. It wasn't the first time she had seen him like this, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "Adrian, I think maybe we should get out of here, call it a night. What do you think?"

He looked embarrassed as he responded, "No, no, I'm fine now. You wanted to come, so we should stay, even though I ruined your night and you probably want to leave now."

"Adrian, I think we'd both feel a lot better if we went home and changed," she insisted softly. "And...and I think we need to talk."

Monk swallowed nervously. He knew he shouldn't have said anything about how he was going to kiss her! Now she wanted to "talk," and he knew that when she said talking, she meant "talking." All women did that. "We need to talk." Well, we're talking right now, aren't we?

He looked into Sharona's questioning face and said, "Maybe you're right. I don't really like this tuxedo, anyway."

Sharona smiled slightly. "Let's go tell the captain we're going."

"No, Sharona, we can't do that," Monk insisted. "He'll want to know why, and if we tell him the truth...trust me, we should just sneak out of here unnoticed."

"Unnoticed?" Sharona echoed. "With you? That's about the same probability as me actually going on a date with Disher." They both looked over at Randy, who was hanging around the punch bowl, looking forlorn.

"So we can just leave without saying anything," he suggested, shrugging. "Everyone'll figure it was an emergency."

"And then what would we tell the captain when he asks why we left?" Sharona asked, then sighed. "You know what? I don't care what he thinks. Let's go." She grabbed Monk by the arm before he could protest and they left, with Captain Stottlemeyer and his wife watching curiously.

"Where do you suppose they're going?" the captain asked.

"Isn't it obvious, Leland?" Karen asked dreamily. "They're in love! They probably wanted to go somewhere they could be alone."

Stottlemeyer laughed. "Monk and Sharona? In love? What's in that punch you've been drinking?"

Karen ignored his insult and insisted, "Didn't you see them dancing together? They were completely lost in each other. I even thought he was going to kiss her."

He appeared thoughtful and then nodded slowly. "I never thought it was possible. Those two fight like cats and dogs. But, he depends on her for everything. It would make sense for him to be in love with her, but why the hell would Sharona be in love with him?"

"You don't choose who you fall in love with, Leland," Karen informed him. "It just happens."

He smiled. "You are a very smart woman," he told his beaming wife. "Shall we dance?"

Karen nodded happily, took his arm, and they headed onto the dance floor.

Meanwhile, Monk and Sharona were sharing an awkward car ride to Monk's apartment. They were both a little on edge from what had happened (or what had almost happened) at the ball, and neither one of them wanted to fess up to the possible feelings that may be festering inside themselves, longing to burst out and completely alter the way they both led their lives.

But, let's be honest here. The feelings were acknowledged in some form when he thought about kissing her and she thought about wanting him to kiss her. The only question now was if they were going to admit those feelings to themselves, and, eventually, to each other.

For now, they continued to ride in silence, the only sound being the slap of the windshield wipers on the windshield, for it had started raining once they were on the road.

Sharona signaled and pulled off the road to park in front of Monk's apartment.

Monk set his hands on his thighs and said, "Well, thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow," and went to open the door when Sharona stopped him.

"We're not done yet," she insisted, halting him. "We still have to talk."

Monk closed his eyes, disappointed that she had actually remembered their purpose for leaving.

"Look," she started once she saw his face, "I know this is awkward, but I really think we need to talk about it. It could affect our working relationship otherwise."

"I don't know what to tell you, Sharona. I guess...I guess I got caught up in the moment. Those things happen," Monk said without feeling.

Sharona remained silent, then when he was about to open the door again, softly replied, "Not to you."

He let his hand fall back to his lap again. She got him. She always did. He might've been a detective – possibly the best in the SFPD – but she always knew when to call his bluff.

He turned back to her. "Let me go get changed, and then we can go...talk."