A/N: Phew! I'm back on a roll of sorts…here is the next part…enjoy and please read and review! Also: all ships are lighthearted…don't go all vulture on me.

Chapter 5:

Road Trip

Bobby listened intently to Jim Deakins. He had insisted on talking to his captain after Stottlemeyer had finished. He wanted the information firsthand. He would be the lead once they were back in New York and he was tired of looking like an idiot in front of Leland Stottlemeyer.

"Victim's name is Kyle Steele," Deakins told him. "He was playing the Phantom in a matinee. Same deal as the women. No one saw anyone who shouldn't have been there. Unlike Diana Vale, however, Kyle Steele was well-liked. What did you find out about Marsha Fleck?"

"Not too much," Bobby said. "We don't even know her real name. None of her family has come forward, if she has any. These are high-profile cases, it's been all over the news. They've gotta know by now."

"We need to find a common link when you get here," Deakins said. "We're keeping the crime scene preserved for you. It's gonna cost the theatre, but when they heard that you were the one heading the case…Bobby are you okay?" The captain had sensed something was wrong. He'd heard the poorly concealed annoyance in Stottlemeyer's voice, and there was something lacking in Bobby's.

"Just…tired," Bobby said. "They made me sleep with Eames."

"What?""

"Never mind…" He sighed. "It's gotta be the same person, Captain. Jetting across the country, going in without being noticed. He's confident, unafraid."

"He?" Deakins asked.

"It has to be a man. I saw Kyle Steele in a one-act play off-Broadway a few years ago, before he got famous. He was as tall as I am and muscular. Whoever did this had to be able to exert physical control over Kyle in order to get him with the needle."

XXX

"What do you mean SFO has no outbound available flights to New York City?" Disher cried to the airline representative. "Look, this is a matter of national security. These Broadway stars are dropping like flies." He shook his head at Alex who was standing near his desk. "National holiday weekend? Since when is…" He glanced at his desk calendar. "Labor Day….since when is Labor Day a huge traveling holiday?"

Alex tried not to laugh.

A few minutes later, Randy hung up in dismay. "They said to call LAX," he said.

"Isn't LA kind of south of here?" Alex said sarcastically.

"We can drive there," Randy said. "There are these things called cars. I know you New Yorkers aren't too keen on them, but they do actually, uh, get you places."

A day of hanging out with Alex Eames and Randy Disher was getting pretty good at the sarcasm and general snarkiness.

"Wait…we have…to go in a plane?" Adrian Monk, who was sitting listening to the whole thing, finally spoke up. "A commercial airplane?"

"Well what'd you expect, Monk?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"A private, SFPD-owned jet?" Monk asked.

The captain laughed.

"What do you think we are, some TV crime show owned by NBC Universal?"

"There's…a 10pm flight available," Bobby, who was looking up flight information on the computer, said.

Disher checked his watch. "It's 2:00…if we leave soon, we can get there in time to check in and everything."

"We'd get to La Guardia in the early morning, around 6am," Bobby said.

"Disher, get a rental car, buy the tickets," Stottlemeyer ordered. "Five tickets. It looks like you and Monk and Natalie are going to accompany Goren and Eames back to Manhattan."

XXX

"I'll drive," Natalie volunteered. The five were gathered with their luggage in the Hertz parking lot, next to the black SUV that Disher had rented. "I used to visit my aunt in LA all the time. I know all the shortcuts."

They put their things in the trunk and then they went to get in the car. Monk and Goren both reached for the front passenger side door at the same time.

"I-I don't do well…in backseats," Monk said. "I'm a bit claustrophobic."

"Well I get car sick if I sit in the back," Goren said.

"Come on, Mr. Monk," Natalie said. "It's not like Randy and Alex are large people who are gonna crowd your personal space. Besides you don't want Detective Goren to blow chunks all over the car do you?"

Monk shuddered at the phrase "blow chunks." Ick. "Okay," he said. "Just don't put me in the middle."

XXX

They had been on the road for awhile—Natalie driving and Bobby in the passenger seat, Monk, Disher and Alex in the back in that order.

"Have you been to California before, Detective Goren?" Natalie asked, looking his way as she stopped at a red light.

"You…can call me Bobby," he said, giving her a smile. "And yes, I've been to California…when I was in the Army. Have you ever been to New York?"

"Oh, no," Natalie said. "I know this is for a case, and that I'm supposed to be helping Mr. Monk but I really hope I can see a few sights somewhere in between you all catching the bad guy…"

"We'll have to squeeze something in," Bobby said. "You'd love the Met."

Their conversation wandered to art again, and they were off in their own little world.

Meanwhile, in the backseat, Randy was regaling Alex with tales from his work on the San Francisco Police force.

"I-I'm sure it's nothing to what you've seen on the Major Case Squad," he said.

She was caught off-guard by the adorable look on his face. He kept doing that. He was so…different…innocent. She was glad he hadn't seen what she'd seen at Major Case, or she may have been looking at a different type of man.

"So…you like the theatre?" he asked. "Maybe that's a bad question to ask…given our case."

"Well, normally I like going to see Broadway shows," Alex smiled. "But I'm not sure I'd wanna go see a play these days."

"Who knew being an actor could be dangerous," Randy said.

"Yeah, really," Alex said. "And they thought the only thing they had to worry about was a Botox foul-up."

He immediately laughed heartily at her joke, and a thought came to her mind. Alex, he's definitely younger than you. And not your usual type. And you're working a case with him for Pete's sake. Then her mind went briefly to her friend Olivia Benson in Special Victims Unit, and she nearly giggled out loud. No, she definitely wouldn't mind being Benson to this guy's Cassidy…

Three hours later, Randy Disher, his attention momentarily off of Alex Eames, looked out the window and noticed they were way off course.

"Natalie, where in the world are we?" he asked.

"I…we're…we're fine," she said. "I got a little lost…" The truth was, she'd been paying more attention to Bobby Goren than to the road, and had taken a wrong turn where she'd thought the shortcut was. "It…it's a shortcut?"

"A shortcut?"

"Well…it used to be…"

With a little backseat driving from Randy, they were soon back on track to getting to the airport. They'd finally gotten to the outskirts of Los Angeles, and of course, were now stuck in a sea of traffic.

"So this is LA," Bobby said, looking out the window at the hazy, polluted sky and the cars that seemed to go on forever, honking and starting then stopping, some turning off their engines all together.

"So glamorous, I know," Natalie smiled as she stopped the car yet again.

"What's…what's going on up there?" Monk asked.

Natalie, thinking he was referring to her and Goren, quickly focused back on the road. "What was that?" she asked.

"Up ahead," Monk said. "Two cars in front of us…that guy is getting out of his car. He's…he's…I can't tell from back here."

"He's pulling out a gun," Natalie said in alarm.

"Turn off the car," Disher ordered, boosted by Eames' gaze. "I'm as local law enforcement as there is out here right now." With that, he jumped out of the car, nearly taking his seatbelt with him. "Right," he muttered, unbuckling, then getting out. He ran up to where the man with the gun, now apparently threatening a passenger in another car, was.

From the SUV, they saw him approach the man cautiously, show them his badge. The man, larger than Disher and less good-hearted, shoved Randy hard, sending him tripping backward.

Alex undid her seat belt.

"Oh, hell no," she said, getting out of the car.

She ran over to where Disher and the gun man were.

"Randy, are you okay?" she asked.

"I-I'm fine," he said, catching his breath.

"You," she said angrily to the gun man.

"Bitch, who do you think you are?" the man said.

"NYPD," Alex said. "And you're under arrest for assault on a police officer, as well as brandishing a weapon in public. And for reckless driving. Hands on the car, now."

"You can't tell me what to do," the man said, "You ain't no LAPD."

Before he knew what was happening, the petite Alex Eames had his hand twisted around his back, had kneed him in the back and had his face in the pavement.

"Who's the bitch now?" she asked icily. To Randy she said, "Call for the highway patrol."

Randy stood in awe. This woman…was amazing.

By the time they got to the airport, it was 9:15pm, leaving them with only 45 minutes to check in and get through security. Fortunately, after the nearest CHP had arrested the gun man, he proceeded to call them a police escort to the airport and now they were being escorted past the security lines and straight to their gate where boarding had just begun.

Randy handed out the tickets. He had it all planned. He had picked out the seats online. Bobby and Natalie were sitting together in the window and middle seat of Aisle 14. He would be sitting next to Alex (he had to admit purposely planning that) in the corresponding window and middle seats in Aisle 15. And since Monk could only sit in an aisle seat, and because the only one left was next to Disher, Monk would be joining him and Alex. He only hoped Monk didn't act all…Monk-ish.

They'd been in the air for nearly two hours. The plane ride was going similarly to the car ride. Goren and Natalie had moved from art talk to books and movies. And Randy, a bit embarrassed by his fumbling earlier with the gun man, was trying to look smooth for Alex. Of course, the harder he tried, the less smooth he looked, but Alex found it endearing.

"Do you need anything, sir?" the flight attendant asked Bobby.

"No, thanks," Bobby said. "Natalie do you…" He realized that Natalie was now asleep. "We're fine, thanks," he told the flight attendant.

A moment later, Natalie unconsciously leaned in toward Bobby and rested her head on his shoulder. He smiled ever-so-slightly. She was a nice woman and he liked having her in such a close vicinity.

In the next aisle, Alex was also getting sleepy.

"Good job today, by the way," Randy told her, "With that guy on the freeway. That took a lot of balls…I mean…"

She smiled sleepily. "I know what you mean. Thanks."

And then, without thinking, Randy leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips.

She looked slightly surprised.

"I-I'm sorry that was…" Randy was mentally kicking himself.

She glanced to Monk, whose eyes were covered with a ridiculous sleep mask. Then, quickly, she tilted her head up to Randy's and pecked him on the cheek.

The two of them, as well as Bobby, fell asleep soon after. Their day had been long and tiresome. They all woke up several hours later, to the sound of the friendly flight attendant.

"Good morning, ladies and gentleman, and welcome to New York City."