Disclaimer: Neither Monk nor The Dead Zone nor any of the characters belong to me.
AN: I've been thinking about this crossover story for a while and am still not sure where to take it. So suggestions are very welcome. Hope you enjoy. :
To Touch or Not to Touch
A woman with long red hair ran down the dark street in the rain. She looked over her shoulder, screamed and ran faster. She sped around the corner, narrowly missing a car, and splashed in a puddle as she leapt onto the sidewalk. She screamed again as her pursuer grabbed her arm. Wrenching her arm free, she fled to the street as a van came speeding in her direction. The driver blew his horn, but it was too late. The van bounced twice over her body and sped on.
Johnny Smith woke up sweating and put a hand to his aching head.
Natalie Teeger sighed. "Mr. Monk, I could really use your help in the kitchen."
"Almost done," Adrian Monk said as he carefully placed the smallest gift on top of the pile. He looked at the present from both sides, moved it a fraction of a millimeter, scrutinized it again from both sides and moved it another nanometer. He straightened and stepped back to study the entire pile.
Natalie heard a giggle and turned to see six girls.
"Julie, why don't you take your friends to your room and listen to your new CD. I'll call you when the pizza gets here."
"Ok, mom."
The girls trooped down the hall as Natalie went to Monk's side.
"Mr. Monk, thank you for stacking the gifts. Really."
"Don't mention it," he replied, minutely adjusting a gift.
"I really need help with the snacks."
"I'd like to help, but I still have to organize the card envelopes," Monk said moving to the other end of the table. "First by size," he said shuffling the envelopes in his hands. "Then by color, then by weight."
"You can do that later," Natalie offered.
"But Samantha will have already opened them by then. They'll be torn irregularly and impossible to fix and oh I can't think about it."
"Mr. Monk," Natalie said taking the envelopes from him. "Please."
Monk looked at the cards then at Natalie. "Ok," he said reluctantly and followed her into the kitchen.
Natalie handed him a large bowl and pointed to three bags of chips. "Put those in this."
"All of these snacks are unhealthy," Monk commented moving to the bar. "They're already having pizza. Shouldn't you give them fruit or crackers or…?"
"This is a sleepover. You're supposed to gorge," Natalie answered popping a handful of M&M into her mouth.
"I thought the idea of a sleepover was to sleep." Monk held his hands out and looked around for something to wipe the grease from the chips on.
"Here," Natalie said tossing him a dishtowel.
Monk watched it land on the floor and grimaced.
Natalie sighed and handed him a paper towel.
"No way. The point of a sleepover is to stay up late watching scary movies and eating snacks. And gossiping. Don't you remember? I mean I know boys don't do the same things girls do when they get together, but…" She arranged graham crackers, chocolate bars and marshmallows on a plate as she talked.
"I wouldn't know," Monk said as he tried to arrange the chips neatly in the bowl.
"You've never been to a sleepover?"
"No."
"Well, you can be part of this one."
"That's ok."
"Come on. It'll be fun." Natalie licked chocolate off her fingers.
"I don't think so."
"You don't want to stay up late watching scary movies?" Natalie asked in a tantalizing tone.
"Not really."
"Of course not. Well, you'll have to sleep in my room because we'll be taking over the living room."
Monk moaned and groped for a chair.
"Don't worry. I'll straighten up first."
Monk grimaced and sank into a chair at the kitchen table.
"I'd offer you Julie's room, but it's worse than mine."
Monk looked queasy.
"Well, there's always your place," Natalie said popping a batch of cookies into the oven.
"No. No, I can't sleep knowing that stuff is just sitting there."
"It's on your neighbor's porch."
"I know. But it's such a mess."
"Did you talk to them about it?"
"Yes."
"What did they say?"
"They said when they're done cleaning out the room for the new baby they'll take care of it. But that could be days."
"Well, you're welcome to stay here," Natalie said brushing cracker crumbs off her hands. "But you'll have to put up with us. Ok, I've got crackers. Happy?"
"It's a start. How long are they staying?"
"Who? The girls?"
Monk nodded.
"Everyone but Samantha will be leaving tomorrow, but Samantha's mom won't be out of the hospital for another couple of days."
"Samantha's the one with the missing button?"
Natalie gave him a questioning look.
"The third button from the top of her sweater is missing."
"Is her sweater pink?"
"Yes."
Natalie nodded as the doorbell rang. "That's Samantha. The birthday girl."
Monk cautiously opened his eyes the next morning.
To the normal eye, Natalie had done a great job cleaning her room. However, Monk could already see ten imperfections. And that was just on the dresser across from the bed. He shielded his eyes from the rest of the room and quickly lowered his feet to his slippers.
After forcing himself not to look at anything in the bathroom as he brushed his teeth and got dressed, he ventured down the hall to the living room. He stopped short at the doorway.
Natalie was curled up in the chair, a blanket wrapped around her crookedly.
Julie, Samantha and another girl were squeezed together on the couch. Samantha's mouth was open, the other girl was snoring softly and Julie's hair hung in disarray.
The three remaining girls were in sleeping bags arranged haphazardly on the floor.
The coffee table was littered with partially empty bowls, chips, crackers, candy, two empty movie cases and three pizza boxes. There were two crusts left over in one open pizza box; one whole slice and one half slice in another open box. The third box was mercifully closed.
The TV was still on with a bouncing DVD logo on the screen.
There were open soda cans and paper plates strewn about the room.
"Oh God," Monk moaned. "Oh God, oh God, oh God," he chanted as he backed into the wall.
Natalie woke suddenly. "Mr. Monk?" She jumped up and went to him.
He was still chanting and staring straight ahead.
"What's the matter?" she asked with a yawn.
He stopped chanting and gestured at the room.
Natalie turned. At first she was confused; then it hit her. "Oh. Oh, it's ok."
"No," Monk moaned.
"Come on." She took his arm and led him into the kitchen. "I'll get you something to drink. You like orange juice?" She led him to a chair and pushed him into it.
The phone rang. Natalie answered it as she searched for a glass. "Good morning, Captain Stottlemeyer. No, that's ok. What's up?" She listened as she poured orange juice and took it over to the table. "Yes, sir. He's with me. We'll get there as soon as we can."
She hung up and handed Monk the glass. He sniffed the juice.
"Captain Stottlemeyer says there's a man in his office who knows something about a murder."
Natalie and Monk arrived at the police station in the middle of an argument.
"Mr. Smith, I can't do anything until-"
"All I'm asking is for you to take a look," a man with blond hair insisted.
"Mr. Monk's here now," Natalie said striding into Stottlemeyer's office. "So, let's go."
"Natalie-" Stottlemeyer started.
"Hi, I'm Natalie Teeger. This is Adrian Monk." She held out her hand.
"Johnny Smith. This is my friend Bruce."
"Nice to meet you," Bruce said shaking Natalie's hand. "No offense, but my buddy's not into shaking hands."
"Oh, I'm used to that," Natalie said with a laugh.
"I'm not into shaking hands either," Monk said smiling at Johnny.
"So where's the crime scene?" Natalie asked.
"The corner of State Street and 4th," Johnny said.
"There's something you need to know," Stottlemeyer said.
"You can tell us there," Natalie said as she left.
Monk, Johnny, and Bruce followed her.
Stottlemeyer sighed and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair.
Bruce pulled up behind Natalie, and everyone gathered on the sidewalk.
"Where's the body?" Monk asked.
"Why don't you tell him, Mr. Smith," Sttottlemeyer said. "No one seems to be listening to me," he added.
"The body isn't here yet," Johnny said.
Natalie and Monk stared at him puzzled.
"I don't understand," Monk said. "I thought you said you knew something about a murder."
"I do," Johnny said. "It just hasn't happened yet."
After a brief pause, Natalie laughed without humor. "Is this a joke?"
"Apparently not," Stottlemeyer said.
"Look, I know this sounds crazy; but I saw it happen," Johnny insisted.
"How could you see it happen if it hasn't happened yet?" Monk asked.
"I have visions," Johnny explained. "When I touch people or objects, I see things."
"You're psychic,' Natalie said skeptically.
"Yes."
"Ok, I've got a house to clean and errands to run and a kid to help get ready for school tomorrow. I don't have time for this," Natalie said.
"Wait a minute," Monk said. "You say you touch something or someone and see things."
"Yes."
"What did you touch to bring you here to the other side of the country?"
Johnny, Bruce and Natalie gave him a questioning look.
"I noticed you have a Maine tag," Monk explained.
"Actually, I didn't touch anything," Johnny said reluctantly.
"Do you have to be touching something to have a vision?" Monk asked.
"Usually."
"Mr. Smith, we're very busy-," Stottlemeyer said rubbing his forehead.
"I know what I'm saying is hard to swallow, but I can't always predict how my visions come. Usually, when I touch something or someone a vision is activated. This one came in a dream. But I know it was a vision rather than a dream."
"How?" Natalie asked.
Johnny's shoulders sagged. "I don't know that."
"Why don't you touch something here?" Monk asked.
"Yeah," Natalie said. "Touch something. Tell us what happens, and I'm sure the captain will send someone here to keep a lookout."
"I can't do anything until a crime is actually committed," Stottlemeyer said as if he were speaking to kindergartners.
"Well, couldn't you have a squad car 'conveniently' on patrol here around the time the murder is supposed to occur?" Natalie pleaded. "Just to humor him," she added under her breath to Stottlemeyer.
Stottlemeyer sighed. "I suppose."
"Good," Natalie said. "Ok, Johnny. Touch something."
Johnny looked around the area.
"Hurry up," Natalie said.
Johnny placed his fingertips against a nearby lamppost.
He was standing in the middle of the street at night. Hearing footsteps, he turned as a woman with long red hair rounded the corner. She had an expression of terror on her face. She turned as her pursuer came around the corner.
The man wore a pressed tan suit. As he neared the streetlight, Johnny was startled out of his vision.
"Johnny? What did you see?"
Johnny tried to catch his breath as he darted his eyes around.
"Is he ok?" Natalie asked.
Bruce put a hand on Johnny's shoulder.
"You," Johnny said looking at Monk.
"Johnny?" Bruce asked with concern.
"I saw you," Johnny said pointing at Monk. "You were chasing her."
