David Thomason was led into Leland Stottlemeyer's office by a uniformed officer precisely at 1pm the following Wednesday. Monk was already seated in his usual spot in front of Leland's desk, Natalie was off for the day, and Randy was with Sgt. McIntyre running down leads in a fresh homicide. Leland was trying to be more hands-off and let Randy take the lead so they could move up the ranks at some point. This case that Monk had brought him, this personal case for just the two of them, was the perfect opportunity to give Randy some freedom.

Both men rose, and Leland shook Thomason's hand. Monk sort of waved from where he was when Leland introduced them. Thomason shot him an odd look, Leland rolled his eyes, and the three men sat.

"So, Captain, Mr. Monk, why exactly am I here? You mentioned a cold case?"

"Yes, this is a sensitive matter."

"And rather personal," Monk added.

"Okay," Thomason said.

"It's regarding your last tour of duty in Kosovo. When you were shot down. We're looking into the death of Mitch Teeger."

"This again? After all these years?" Annoyance tinged the former airman's voice.

"Yes, well, we work with his widow…." Monk said.

"Natalie?" Thomason said, surprise evident on his face.

"Yes," Adrian replied hesitantly, "Did–do you know her?"

"No. Just through the letters Natalie and her daughter sent. He got the most mail in the unit. Homemade cookies, which he always shared. Drawings from his little girl. He was crazy for Natalie."

Monk nodded. She was easy to be crazy for. He knew from experience. "She was equally crazy for him but never looked too far into his death. She just accepted the findings of the Navy's investigation. I just feel there is more to it, and I wanted to do something to finally put the suspicions to rest."

The man nodded, a little guilt painting his face, "I gave my statement at the time, but it was secondhand, really."

Leland leaned forward in his seat, "What do you mean, Mr. Thomason?"

"Please call me Dave. To be honest, I don't really know what happened after the crash. I was unconscious for days after Rob and I were recovered, along with Mitch's remains. I didn't see Mitch try to run. I never really 100 percent bought Rob's story, but I also had no reason to doubt him. According to the record, Mitch's body was recovered over a mile from the wreckage, and all our supplies and the radio were near him. He was shot in the back. But, again, I had no real reason to question the story. We were in the middle of a serious conflict in enemy territory. People got killed all the time."

"Yeah, but why weren't you and Rob killed or captured?" Monk asked.

"Luck?" Thomason replied.

"Or maybe something else you didn't see happened out there."

"I guess it's possible. I lost touch with Rob not long after Mitch's funeral. I went into defense contracting. I don't know where he is now."

'Yeah, neither do we." Leland said with frustration.

"I trusted Mitch. He was an upstanding guy. I never thought of him as a coward or a traitor. Rob, on the other hand, was sneaky - he always found ways around his obligations and duties. He was not the most loyal soldier. I once caught him trading ammo for cigarettes with an enemy soldier in one of the bugout caves we were supposed to be patrolling. He swore me to secrecy. I kept his secret but felt uneasy. It wasn't long after that we were shot down. Look, I've been vetted over and over in my career. I work closely with the military and other government agencies to this day. I have a family I'm no longer willing to jeopardize by lying for him."

Monk mused aloud, "I wonder if you had been conscious and Mitch not, would you be dead and Mitch alive today. Maybe it was Rob doing something traitorous, and Mitch caught him, but Rob got the upper hand and killed him."

"Mr. Monk, I can't say I haven't had the same thoughts over the years. But I have no proof other than a gut feeling and that situation in the cave."

"That may not be real evidence, but I have a feeling that whatever he is doing right now may lead us to criminal activity here in the States that could put him away for good. If we're lucky, maybe he'll confess to what actually happened in Kosovo."

"Well, thanks a lot for coming in, Dave. We both appreciate it. We'll do everything we can to keep your name out of our further investigation," Leland said as he rose from his seat.

"Thanks for that. After all this time, I hope you find the truth for Mitch's wife and daughter."

"Thank you for your help," Monk said as he, too, rose and shook the man's hand. He ignored Leland's surprised expression. "We really appreciate your help."

"Let me know how it turns out."

"We will."

Their guest turned and left with long strides. His military bearing still evident, even in civilian clothes.

Adrian turned to look at Leland. "Well, I guess there is a 'there' there…as they say."

"It would seem so. Your intuition was correct."

"Now what do we do?"

Leland's mustache twitched slightly, "Well, we put a posse together and find Robert Ryland."

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

Hours later, Leland and Adrian had called in practically every chit owed to either of them. Around the conference room table, they had SAS Stone of the FBI, the Deputy Mayor of San Francisco, an assorted group of Police Chiefs from jurisdictions where Monk had provided assistance on a case, and they also had read Randy in as much as they could without betraying Natalie's confidence. It was an ad hoc task force on the hunt for Robert Ryland.

They broke up at about 5:30. Everyone had an assignment to try and track down the missing ex-Navy man. Adrian's was to distract Natalie. As soon as he reached the quiet interior of his car, he pulled out his cell phone. He dialed the number he knew as well as his own and listened to it connect and ring.

"Hi there, everything alright?" As soon as he heard her voice, the tension he'd held onto all day left him. His shoulders relaxed, his jaw unclenched, and the hand not holding his phone uncurled.

"Hi Natalie, it's me, Adrian. Monk."

"I know. I saw your name on my phone's screen."

"Right. Sorry." He was still the king of the awkward greeting.

"Don't be sorry," she laughed, "as long as you're okay, I don't care how you greet me. What's going on? How was your day?"

"Exhausting for some reason. But I was wondering if you might want to come over and have dinner with me?"

"Um…sure. What are we going to have?" She was wondering if he wanted her to cook.

"I thought I'd stop and get some Chinese food. What do you think?"

"Sure! But are you sure?" Natalie understood the subtext of Adrian's relationship with Chinese food. It always reminded him of his father leaving. Although recently, he'd been more amenable to eating it again. The first five or six years she'd known him, he wouldn't have even touched a fortune cookie.

"Yes, I am. Now give me some idea what you'd like."

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

Natalie knocked once and then used her key to unlock the door. When she walked into 2G, she was pleasantly surprised to see Adrian, obviously freshly showered, placing serving dishes on the dining room table. She hung up her purse and light denim jacket.

"Hi! How can I help?"

"Just grab the waters, please?"

"Sure!" Natalie brought the bottles to the table and sat in her usual spot. She noticed that the chicken and string beans were in separate serving dishes. The dumplings were, of course, in another separate bowl, and the fried rice was in a large bowl. There was plain brown rice in a matching bowl beside it. Natalie hid a smile when she saw Adrian had heroically tried to separate the shrimp, the lobster meat, and the sauce in the Shrimp in Lobster Sauce dish but had apparently given up, so it was kind of divided within one serving dish.

"This is becoming a standing date for us, Mr. Monk," Natalie said as he sat with her.

He nearly fell off of his chair, "A wh-what?"

"Well, this is the third week in a row you've asked me to dinner on my day off. So I think that counts as a standing date. The night we went to The Tailor's Son, last week we went to my house, and I brought in Mediterranean food, and tonight you brought in Chinese!"

"I guess you're right. I hadn't realized… does it bother you? I guess I …um…I miss your company."

Natalie blushed. "Thank you so much, Mr. Monk. That makes me feel very important. And special."

It was Monk's turn to have heat rise in his cheeks, but he admirably managed to control it.

"You're welcome, Natalie. You should feel this way every day. You know what else? I'd really like you to start calling me Adrian instead of Mr. Monk. We're too good friends to do this formal thing anymore."

Natalie narrowly avoided choking on a piece of shrimp and grasped her water glass so hard she was afraid it might shatter. "Really?" she sputtered after she took a large gulp of water. "Are you sure?"

He smiled patiently, trying not to be overly disgusted by the water dripping from the glass and her lips. However, despite his attraction towards her, his usual distaste for mess got the better of him as her shock caused her to act slightly less than her usual lady-like self. Apparently, the shock of his statement caused her some amount of astonishment.

"Yes, Natalie, I'm sure. It's been eight years. I think we're long past the stage…well, we're long past the rigid rules of when we started, don't you agree?"

Having regained her composure and wiped her mouth and drippy glass with her napkin, Natalie said, "Yes, I guess we are, Adrian. I guess we are." Natalie decided to steer the subject in a new direction before entering dangerous territory. "So, What happened today? Did you and Leland find some trouble to get into, or did you have things to do on your own?"

Not wanting to lie, Adrian hewed as close to the truth as he dared. "Well, here's some good scuttlebutt. Leland thinks Randy might be ready for a promotion, so he sent him out to the scene of a murder with McIntyre to run it on his own. He called me into the office just to be on standby in case Randy got in over his head. But guess what? He did himself proud. Randy really is so good at delegating and decision-making. He's better at that than the actual detective work, I think. He'll make a great Captain if he and Leland both are eligible for promotion."

"That's great! TK was telling me just last week that the Captain is going to apply for the Commandership next year. I wonder how that will affect us."

"Hmmm. That's good for Leland. He'll be in charge of Narcotics, Robbery, Homicide, and other divisions if he gets the promotion. It probably won't affect us much, except we'll be working more than just homicides, I suppose." Adrian fidgeted a little at the idea of change, although it wouldn't be too new, just a little different.

Natalie noticed a little cringe and the fidget, and to comfort him, she said, "That will be interesting, although I know you love a juicy homicide."

Adrian actually laughed out loud at that remark. "I'm not sure love is appropriate, but I enjoy solving a complicated crime. Robberies tend not to be quite as difficult, and I'm sure we won't be involved in narcotics raids unless murder is involved."

Natalie nodded, continued eating her dinner, and looked down at her plate. She realized all of her different foods were separated into sections, although they weren't separated as much as Adrian's. She wondered how they had gotten to this place together. His habits had become hers. Her calming influence had helped him change. An outsider looking in might think they were a long-married couple catching each other up on their work day apart, as they did each evening over dinner. So comfortable and full of warmth. Natalie wondered if Mr.–Adrian and Trudy's life had been like this, without the Chinese food, of course. Natalie also wondered if it would be possible for him to ever see her as more than his assistant and friend. He did get all flustered by the word date…was that out of fear or some other emotion? Natalie decided getting knotted up by conundrums she couldn't solve was a waste of time and looked up to find Adrian watching her.

"Did you figure it out?" he asked her with a smile so sweet she wanted to melt.

"What?"

"Whatever you were puzzling over in your head. I saw the little line you get between your eyebrows, and I knew you were mentally wrestling with something." He reached out with his pinky, touched her forehead just at the spot where the line formed, and then retreated when she relaxed.

"Oh no, when I'm old, I'll have a horrible wrinkle there!" she fretted.

"You'll still be beautiful, Natalie." It slipped out involuntarily. To soothe her worries. He wished he could get the words back as they hung in the air.

She covered his hand with hers, "Thanks, Adrian. You really can be so sweet."

He cleared his throat, looked at his plate bashfully, and returned to eating. The rest of the meal was quiet and punctuated with very neutral comments on the food and the weather. By some unspoken agreement, neither Adrian nor Natalie wanted to veer into the more personal. They finished eating, and after every dish was in the dishwasher and every crumb wiped, vacuumed up, and otherwise obliterated, Natalie grabbed her jacket and purse.

"I will see you tomorrow morning, Adrian," she said when she walked back into the kitchen to find him starting the dishwasher.

"Okay," he replied, distracted by the measurement of detergent into the correct compartment, "see you tomorrow."

Natalie shook her head and let herself out. Once she settled in her car, she had to wonder if what had happened between them at dinner was just her imagination or if a shift was finally happening. Natalie stared sightlessly out the windshield and thought back over the last few weeks. Work had been busy. Leland and–Adrian, she smiled, had been giving her more responsibility on her own, and she was proud of that. But she also thought about Adrian missing her enough on her day off to want to have dinner with her on each of those days for the last three weeks. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Long-buried feelings resurfaced as hope took flight.

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ