Thank you everybody for your wonderful replies. And now the show:

Monk stares in front of him at all the shapes wafting back and forth, voices protruding angrily from their mouths. He knows...he KNOWS he's in trouble, it's something you can feel, it's an undercurrent bubbling underneath his chair and vibrating against all the walls. Anyway, all you have to do is look at their faces. It doesn't take a detective to know things are upside down. And Monk, the man who can fix all messes, can only flap his arms to keep afloat. Because plates are shifting and at any minute the ground is going to crack open. All it takes is one misstep, one wrong word and everything is shattered.

"It didn't mean anything," He murmurs from his place across the room. Silence, bodies turn, he can feel the whole weight of the room upon his skin. Explain, they say, explain how it didn't mean anything. Adrian Monk doesn't kiss people for no reason, Adrian Monk doesn't kiss people period.

"Monk, what are you talking about?" Stottlemeyer says, rubbing his temples.

"The kiss," He locks eyes with Sharona. She just stares back, eyes like glass. Tell me Adrian; tell me how it didn't mean anything. Tell me that it was a momentary lapse of judgment. Tell me you don't love me. Tell me it was all a mistake. "I was thinking of Trudy." And he knows this is wrong, using his dead wife as an excuse. But somehow it makes the situation ease up, as if some sort of calm has washed over everybody. It's pity, they pity him.

"It was still unprofessional" Stottlemeyer grumbles, but Monk knows he's been forgiven.

"It will never happen again," He promises. His heart stabs him with a sharp pain, because it doesn't want to let go. We were so close, Adrian, so close. She kissed you back. She kis...but he can't think about that now. He can't believe it.

"We should get going," Sharona says softly. "I have to make dinner." Randy stands up abruptly, almost as if he has an announcement to make but he returns back to his seat after a few seconds.

"You'll be back at the scene tomorrow, right Monk? No more weird stuff?" Stottlemeyer asks gruffly. Adrian nods, mechanically and lets the door close behind him. Sharona is already way ahead, her boots snapping against the ground. Something is off. Even if he fixed things in the office, things haven't been fixed here.

.'.'.'..'.'.'.'.''.

"Something happened, right? You made her mad?" Benjy asks under his breath. There are sounds coming from the kitchen, pots banging, whispers of anger, things sizzling. Monk tries to smile but he feels sick to his stomach. This is bad, this is really bad. And as much as he loves Benjy, the kid is making it worse.

"She's been in there for an hour," Monk says, yanking at his collar.

"She burned the peas,"

"What?"

"Don't worry, Mr. Monk. She always gets over it." Benjy points out but Adrian isn't so sure. This isn't like all the other times. Suddenly he gets the urge to tell the boy everything, how all he wanted was one kiss, one chance, and how everything got screwed up and blurred.

"Here," Sharona breathes, entering with the meals. Adrian straightens up, puts on a grin. Benjy looks anxiously between the two.

"It looks great." Adrian comments softly.

"Thank you." Sharona replies tightly.

"Mom, Adrian is really sorry," Benjy suddenly blurts. And he's trying to be helpful, Monk gets that, but this isn't the right time. Sharona pauses, stares at her plate.

"Did you tell him?" She murmurs. Monk panics, his heart skidding to a stop.

"Tell me what?" Benjy pipes up, eager for any information.

"I didn't tell him, I mean, he just," Adrian can't find words; all he can feel is this sweltering heat enveloping his body.

"He didn't say anything; you just seem to be mad at him." Benjy explains. Sharona softens a bit, placing her hand over her son's.

"I'm not mad, I'm just tired." She pats the boy on the head and resumes eating. Monk meanwhile tries to catch her eye but she doesn't let him. Sharona, Sharona it's all a lie. I love you, YOU. And damn it, it's not fair. You kissed me back. You did. I know it.

"Good peas," He mutters.