Aw, thanks you guys who reviewed the first chapter. I give you much love, as reviews do really mean a lot to me and allow to me to write and post faster. I find myself taking a really long time to update if I don't get too many people badgering me :hint hint:

Anyhoo, this story will have no pairings of any kind, if some of you were wondering. Maybe some off-hand crushes, but they mean nothing.

So I bet many of you are screaming at me, when does Monk get shot? Well you're just going to have to be patient and keep reading. Here's the next installment.

Chapter 2

"Look at this Natalie, how many times must I tell you…" A frustrated sigh, and the detective shook his head in disappointment "We don't touch the cans that have dents in them, how hard is that?"

"Mr. Monk! Tell me, where is the dent in this one?" Natalie turned the can over and over, hoping to find the elusive dent just so she could get this repetitive argument over with.

"There" Monk pointed with his pinky towards the bottom of the can "Look how the light pattern skews from that one point right there, you know why?" Natalie gave him an exasperated look and Monk nodded. "There's a dent."

There was a brief stare down and Monk shifted his shoulders in discomfort and Natalie threw the can in the shopping cart. Mr. Monk winced at the clatter and stretched out his arm in despair.

"Natalie! Now there are more dents!"

"Good. Come on, I have to get snacks for Julie's school, they're going on a field trip tomorrow."

"Another one?" Monk questioned in disbelief. "What kind of school are you sending her to? A boot camp?"

"Mr. Monk, kids like field trips." Monk frowned, his bottom lip sticking out, and shook his head.

"I never did." Natalie gave her boss a raised eyebrow that gave more than enough information.

"Oh." Monk whispered, and then his gaze caught the stack of animal crackers mixed with the Oreos, and like a moth to a flame he found himself drifting towards it. Natalie sighed and looked at her watch, she had to pick Julie up in an hour, and they still haven't gotten to the produce aisle yet.

"Hey Mr. Monk!" Monk was too busy organizing to look up, but Natalie continued "I'm going to the next aisle, stay here ok?" Monk waved his hand; honestly it wasn't as if he were a child. He continued to organize until he felt a presence next to him, and he sighed.

"Yes, I'm almost done…just hold on…"

"Ok." Monk jumped at the unfamiliar voice and knocked his head hard against the shelf above him; he winced slightly at the pain, and then almost cried as he saw the animal crackers came tumbling down onto the Oreos again.

"Oh God, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to scare you!" The person who wasn't Natalie began to rub Monk's head, and Monk jerked backwards at the touch and hit his head again. Tears sprang to his eyes and he hissed.

"It's ok, it's ok" Monk declared covering his own head to avoid getting touched by the stranger, who was a man of maybe late twenties with a gaunt looking face, hazel eyes and light brown hair.

"I'm really sorry…I just wanted my Oreos." Monk shut one eye and handed him the bag of Oreos he wanted to burn moments before for being number twenty-one.

"Thanks…again I'm sorry…"

"No, my fault, thought you were someone else." There was a lengthy awkward pause before the stranger held out his hand.

"Frank Reed." Monk stared at the hand and Frank stared at his own hand in curiosity, and then placed his hand back on the shopping cart handle.

"You're right; I wouldn't trust my hand either." The man joked, and Monk gave a shameful smile in appreciation, and straightened himself up.

"Adrian Monk."

"Adrian? That's a name you don't hear everyday…" Frank repeated the name, and then smiled and waggled his finger in front of Monk's face. "Adrian Monk, the detective?"

"Yes…"

"Oh wow! I've read about you in Cindy's Chatterbox! She says you're amazing, you've solved like ninety cases?"

"More like a hundred." Monk nodded.

"Wow…" Frank sighed out, and pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper "Cindy says you're like a modern day Sherlock Holmes, I loved the guy when I was a kid, still do in fact." Frank's ears began to turn a bright shade of red "You think I could get your autograph?"

Monk was taken aback at the request, and pleased as well. He smiled and agreed. He took the wrinkled grocery list, turned it over, used the edge of the shelf to smooth it out, and began to slowly write out his name.

Eight minutes later, the paper was signed.

"Wow, this was well worth the wait, I've never seen an "o" so round…it looks like it was printed!" Monk gave a small snort, and he shook is head in amusement.

"It was!"

"Yea…I know, but I meant by computer…" Frank folded the paper neatly in half, Monk noted with satisfaction, and placed it in his shirt pocket. "Thanks again, you might think I'm a bit…" The man hunched backwards and waved his index finger in tight circles around his temple. Monk gave the man a grin.

"Only a little bit."

The man chuckled at the statement, already having noted the detective's compulsions.

"Everyone's a little nuts, I can live with that. Thanks Mr. Monk, you're a nice guy…" Frank's eyes widened and he pulled out from his wallet, Monk quickly noted pictures of him with another guy…brother? "Here's my number…" the man quickly scribbled down ten numbers on another piece of paper, this time on the back of lawn mowing business card and handed it to Monk, who lightly took it from his fingers. "You know, just in case you ever feel like you need a friend…or something more…" The man blushed, and started rolling his cart away as if his life depended on it.

At the same moment, Natalie appeared with a cart filled with food, and was pleased to find Monk had not caused any trouble and was still where he was supposed to be.

"Hey Mr. Monk, you ok?"

"Natalie!" Monk cried out with relief, and started walking towards her. He held out the card for her to inspect. "A man gave me his number…I think—" Natalie nodded at him for to continue, Monk certainly looked embarrassed, what could have happened?

"I-I think…" Monk whispered, looking a little bit more worried "He might have a crush on me-me."

And Natalie laughed loud enough that shoppers turned their heads to wonder, What's so funny?

-o-O-o-

"Randy, get your butt over here, we've got another homicide."

"Really?" Disher poked his head up from the mounds of paperwork on his desk and shot his boss a confused look. "Who is it?"

"Ah, her name is…" The Captain clicked his tongue as he looked at the paper were he had scratched the name down. "Carrie Richards, Caucasian, single, twenty-eight, female…"

"Hey! She sounds just like Mary Sanders, think it's the same perp?"

"They said she was found strangled, Mary was knifed…how about you call Monk, we'll see what he thinks." Randy nodded and put the phone to his ear, and pressed the speed dial for Monk.

As he was waiting for Monk to pick-up he looked at his boss. "How did the interview with Mary's ex go? What's his name…Bill?"

"Bradley Carr, he's not our guy, about twenty other co-workers saw him on the docks…"

"It could still- oh hey Monk…" Randy started to grin, and curious Stottlemeyer listened into the conversation. "Is that Natalie giggling? What is she saying? You were asked out by a guy?" Randy began to laugh, and Stottlemeyer joined in, laughing in disbelief. "Oh you weren't? You just got his number? Well I dunno Monk…don't worry about it, anyway- hey we've got a murder at…" Randy looked to his Captain who dictated the address to him, and Randy briefed it to Monk.

"Yea, ok, see you in twenty minutes lover boy." The Captain could hear exasperated shouts on the other end of the phone as Randy hung up, cutting them off.

"Oh, that reminds me…" The Captain began "You would not believe who I found on my dating site."

"Who? Not Monk?"

"No! No!" Stottlemeyer repeated as if the idea were unimaginable. "Jenny Frost, you know the neighbor of the first victim? Apparently she wasn't to keen with Mr. Danube…" The two males snickered, as Randy arranged the papers.

"Maybe I should ask her out…she was kinda cute." The Captain gave his partner a look, and Disher just smiled mischievously.

"Whatever, you ready?" Randy put on his suit jacket and nodded, his face still wearing a look of amusement.

"Let's go."

-o-O-o-

Four solemn faces watched the body being placed in the ambulance, and the Captain placed a hand on Natalie's shoulder, who looked shell-shocked. No matter how many times you saw it…

"You can never get used to it." Randy whispered, his hands in his pockets, already striding back to the house. Monk followed, making sure he didn't step on any of the cracks that the street to the woman's house was riddled with.

"It's the same guy." Monk piped up as he skipped from empty space to empty space.

"Now Monk, how would you know that?" The Captain questioned, watching and just expecting Monk to loose his balance as he hopped.

"Because, she was strangled and her throat wasn't crushed in. It was as if the guy knew just how much pressure to apply without damaging the throat. Very neat."

"But Monk, the last guy sliced the girl to bits…here her body is intact, and like you said he didn't even damage the throat." Monk sighed happily as he finally stepped through the doorway, only to be faced with kitchen tile. He moaned, and continued making sure he didn't step on the lines.

"I just know it's the same guy. The victims are about the same too, right? Two twenty-eight year olds? Females? It's the same guy." Monk looked about the room; everything was in order, except that bookshelf…there, Monk flew to it, alternating between each even numbered tile and found himself faced with cookbooks. He reached and started rearranging them from tallest to shortest. He noted that one of the books was not a cookbook at all, but a high school yearbook from the year 1995…San Juan High School…just a couple of blocks from where they were. He took the yearbook out, finding it out of place and handed it to Disher and waved his finger in the direction of the living room.

Randy looked to the Captain for help, but Stottlemeyer just waved him off to go do what Monk wanted. He was used to it.

"Do we have any suspects?" Monk questioned, placing the last cookbook on the shelf. Then he turned towards a large case that was filled with little drawers and spices, excited Monk dumped out its contents and started rearranging them.

"Just one, Mark Bennett…an ex-boyfriend…"

"Who found the body?"

"He did." Monk raised his eyebrows. The Captain nodded at the look.

"He claims he was just getting some stuff, and nearly tore Randy's head off when he asked where the perp was yesterday."

"Does he have any military experience?"

"Yea, he served in the Navy for five years…"

"He could be the guy." Monk spoke out loud thoughtfully. "But why would he kill Ms. Sanders too?"

"Could there be a connection?"

"Maybe…" Monk's face suddenly broke out into a grin "I solved the case!"

"What?" And then the Captain's excitement died when he saw that Monk had his hand proudly placed over the case he was fooling with earlier, the spices arranged alphabetically, and by color.

"Doesn't it look great?" Monk's smile flickered as he noticed the entire room was glaring at him.

"What?"

To be continued…