The following Tuesday afternoon, Monk and Natalie caught a case in the Tenderloin… no one's favorite part of town. A young prostitute had been murdered and left beside a dumpster in an alley. The girl was barely older than Julie, and Natalie had to bite back tears seeing her lifeless body left in a puddle of her own blood and oily water. She was tall, athletically built, and had dirty blonde hair - also similar to Julie. It took all of them, Natalie, Monk, Leland, and Randy, a minute to gather their wits as Sgt. McIntyre read what they knew of her vital statistics. Monk's hand seemed to lift to Natalie's back on its own. Natalie turned into him, and his arm wrapped around her. It was a rare crime that affected Natalie so profoundly.

"Natalie, why don't you wait over there?" Monk pointed toward the end of the alley. "See if you can find out anything from some of the…uh… bystanders. You don't have to be here for this."

"But I'm your…your assistant. I should be here for what you need."

"I need for you not to see this situation, Natalie. Now, shoo."

Natalie snickered through her tears, "Shoo?"

"Yes," a gentle smile lit his face. "Shoo!"

Natalie walked away from the body and gave Adrian one backward glance. He was already doing his "thing," and her heart gave a little flip. She always enjoyed seeing him do his work. Then, she went to speak to the other young women, presumably also prostitutes, standing nearby. The rest of the day went as all crime scenes did. Adrian looked around; Randy canvased the building with McIntyre, the CSIs did their thing, the coroner came and took the body, and then they returned to the station in a small caravan. The coroner's van pulled off to the rear of the building toward the morgue, and Natalie concentrated on the rest of the line as the rest of the cars continued to park in the front lot. Eventually, they shuffled into the Captain's office and assumed their usual positions. Randy perched on the corner of Leland's desk, Natalie and Monk in the chairs opposite, and Leland leaning back in his chair. They talked in the way of old, familiar friends and eventually got down to business.

They looked over the evidence, the answer was buried there, as it always was, and Monk would uncover it. But not today. The brilliant detective found the answer elusive, as sometimes happened when he was tired. So tired. Keeping up pretenses with Natalie and the amount of work they'd had recently was catching up to him. Not to mention the sleepless nights. That was the truth of his exhaustion. He wasn't sleeping. At night, his mind played an endless loop of images of Natalie from the past and what he wanted for the future. The few dinners they'd had recently had heightened the desire for that future with her, to have all his dinners with her.

By the time Natalie pulled up in front of his building, he'd nodded off in the passenger seat. He woke when she touched his hand and said his name.

"Adrian?"

"Hmmm?" he murmured, coming out of his doze.

"We're home. At your place, I mean."

He blinked and looked around. "Sorry for dozing off."

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, I didn't sleep well the last few nights." What an understatement.

"Anything I can do?"

Yes, love me back. "No, I think if I solve this case, I'll be okay."

"If you're sure."

"Yes. I'm, uh, sure."

"Alright, well, I'll see you Thursday."

"Okay! See you Thursday." Tomorrow, Wednesday, was her regular day off now and had been for several months. It was really working out well for both of them. Especially since he had work to do that he had to keep her out of–for now.

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

At 3 am, Monk's telephone rang shrilly, and he was jolted from a pleasant dream. He'd fallen asleep right after he ate his solitary dinner. He had been that tired.

"Monk!"

"Yeah. Leland?" Monk's sleep-addled consciousness swam to the surface.

"We got him! Stone is bringing him to the station now! Get up!"

"Who is bringing who where?"

"Wake up, buddy! Agent Stone is bringing Robert Ryland to the station! Let's go!"

Monk snapped awake at the mention of Ryland's name and ran for the shower as he hung up with Leland.

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

Adrian, usually a careful and nervous driver, had much more than the rules of the road on his mind and actually exceeded the speed limit and went through not one but two yellow lights on the short drive from his apartment to the station. He jumped out of the car, and then he halted. Monk smoothed his clothes and, in the light of one of the parking lot lanterns, looked at his reflection in his side window. He smoothed his lapels and ran a hand over his hair, working the air in and out of his lungs. He might be confronting Mitch's killer here. He had to be calm.

Still concentrating on his breathing, Adrian locked his car and walked sedately to Leland's office. They met with Agent Stone while Ryland stewed under guard in a locked interrogation room. By 4:30 am, they were ready to work him over. There would be no mention of Natalie, Julie, or Dave Thomason. They closed the folders they'd been working with and stood. Several papers scattered. Adrian rolled a shoulder. Stone grabbed them and stuffed them back in his folder.

Leland led the way down the hallway toward the interrogation room. When they reached the door, he turned and laid a hand on Monk's shoulder. Firmly.

"I know you have a lot of feelings about this situation, Monk. I am actually feeling some things too. But you are way closer to it than I am, and you've lived with it way longer. Stay calm, don't let your emotions get the better of you."

"I'll be–I'll keep it together. For Natalie."

"Okay. Here we go."

Stottlemeyer opened the door with more force than was strictly necessary and woke their guest, who had been slumped over on the table, napping. The noise woke him without ceremony or kindness.

"Hello, Ryland," Stottlemeyer said in his inimitable way. "I'm Captain Leland Stottlemeyer, and this is my interrogation room. This is FBI Agent Stone and Adrian Monk. We have some questions we'd like answers to if you wouldn't mind."

Ryland scoffed, "If I wouldn't mind?"

"Well, we'll start out nice and see how it goes…." So the interrogation began and then went on for hours.

At 8 am, Randy Disher came in at the start of shift. He stuck his head in his Captain's office and saw that his Captain was definitely there; his stuff was strewn about, the computer on; he just wasn't in his office. Then, as he turned from the doorway, he ran right into Natalie.

"Oooh! Sorry, Nat! Hey! What are you doing here? Isn't it your day off?"

Natalie nodded, exasperated. "Yes, but I left my cell phone here last night. We were all so wrapped up and tired that I didn't notice until this morning when my alarm didn't go off! Good thing my body has an internal alarm at this point."

"I know what you mean. Even on weekends, I'm up at 6!" Randy said with a grin as he followed her into the Captain's office. Natalie started searching for her phone and didn't see it on the chair where she'd been sitting, on the couch, or on Leland's desk. Then, finally, Natalie heard a chime, her text message signal. It came from under Leland's desk, and she went to her knees. What she found was her phone and something startling.

"Randy…?" Natalie came up from her knees, holding something aside from her phone. "What is this?"

Randy looked up from a file he'd been perusing. "Um…it's a…." When his eyes finally locked onto what was in Natalie's hand, his eyes jumped to hers and then prayed urgently for the Captain to appear. "It's a photograph."

"Yes, I can see that. It's a photo of my late husband's crewmate. What's it doing here?"

"I don't know," Randy replied unconvincingly.

'Randy Disher! Do not lie to me, or I'm calling Sharona. And where is the Captain?"

"I don't know." This time he was convincing.

Randy dashed into the bullpen and asked if anyone knew the Captain's whereabouts. A couple of guys finishing paperwork from the late shift told him they had a suspect in interrogation… they'd been there since 4:30 am.

"Who's 'they?'" Randy asked.

"The Captain, Monk, and some FBI agent. They came running in just after 3 am, huddled in there," pointing towards Leland's office, "for an hour and a half and then went to interrogation. They've been there for at least 4 hours now."

"Which room?"

"D, I think."

"Natalie, wait here."

"The hell I will."

Randy and Natalie marched into the observation room of Interrogation Room D. The two-way mirror hid their presence. But they could hear and see everything.

In its fourth hour, the interrogation was making slow headway. "Look, Ryland; we've got you on narcotics trafficking across state lines, intent to sell, and a boatload of other charges. If you cooperate with what you know about Lieutenant Commander Teeger's death, we'll impress upon the DA and the JAG officers who are on their way here that you were very helpful to us in closing the case officially."

When Natalie heard her late husband's name, she took a sharp breath and turned angry eyes on Randy. "What the hell is going on here? What have you guys been doing behind my back?"

"Well, I'm not officially in on this investigation, Natalie. Truthfully, I didn't know it had anything to do with Mitch."

Natalie stared at the back of Adrian's head, willing him to feel her wrath. She was so angry at him, and she had no idea what to do with her feelings. How dare he tell her darkest, most private secret to their friends and colleagues? How long had this "investigation" been going on? And why was it happening at all? She listened for a while longer to the back and forth and nearly lost it when Adrian practically growled at Rob Ryland with his version of what he thought had happened out there in the wilds of Kosovo. She couldn't take another minute of the anguish it stirred in her heart. Natalie ran crying from the observation room and didn't stop until she got to her car. She slammed herself into the driver's seat. If asked later, she'd have no earthly idea how she made it home. She had no memory of the drive and felt lucky to be alive between her anger at Adrian, her tears, and the images of Mitch dying that were flashing through her mind; she should, by all rights, be dead herself.

She flew up the front steps and into the house, dropping her purse, phone, and jacket as she ran up the stairs and all the way into the attic. She began opening boxes and looking through items she rarely touched, sometimes on Mitch's birthday or their anniversary. She tried not to get too mired in her misery-she knew she could end up as bad off as Adrian. Adrian! Damn him! He told Leland and others what he swore to take to his grave. Why? Why would he betray her this way?

As she touched the cap from Mitch's uniform, so carefully wrapped and preserved, she began to cry again, and that's how Adrian found her, not thirty minutes after she got there.

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

Forty minutes earlier:

"Congratulations, Monk, well done. I think Ryland thought you would tear his eyeballs out," Leland slapped his friend on the back after Ryland had been taken to a cell to await the DA, the JAG officer, and the public defender. Naturally, Monk tripped over his own feet at the force of the blow. Agent Stone grabbed Monk's arm and righted him.

"I concur, Monk; well done. He was scared. Frankie DePalma surfaces when we least expect it."

"It was for Natalie. It was all to get the truth for Natalie." The other two men nodded at each other knowingly behind his back.

They entered the bullpen to find Randy sitting at his desk with his head in his hands.

"Randy!" Stottlemeyer called, "What's wrong?"

The words gushed from Randy like an open fire hydrant. "Um. Well, it's like this. I came in and saw you were here, but you weren't here-here. You know? So I turned around, and I bumped right into her. Then she said she had forgotten her phone so we looked for it. Then it wasn't anywhere. The chair, the couch, your desk. Then it tooted. You know that little trilly noise it makes when she gets a text? Anyway, it was on the floor, under your desk. So when she got down on her knees to get it, she found this too." He held up the 8x10 of Ryland.

"Who was here? Who saw this?"

"Who do you think? Natalie!" Randy said, sounding like he'd done the wrong thing again, even though this was far from his fault.

Monk's brow furrowed, and he groaned. "Oh no!"

"Oh yes."

"Then we asked where you were, Captain, and the late shift guys said you were in Interrogation D and had been for hours. So Natalie followed me there, although I asked her nicely not to."

Monk groaned again. This was not good. Natalie now knew what he'd done but had found out in the worst possible way.

"What are you going to do?" Leland looked at Monk's pale face.

"Go to her; hope she will see me. Hope she'll listen." Monk shrugged.

Leland patted his shoulder gently this time, "Good luck, pal. I'm sure she'll listen. Natalie is an understanding, kind person."

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

He made it to her house in record time. Her front door stood ajar. He didn't even need to use his key. He saw her things discarded on the floor. He hung her jacket on the coat tree by the door, put her phone on the charger, and her purse on the table. He looked sound, and seeing she wasn't downstairs, he ascended the steps. He peeked into her room. She wasn't crying on her bed. Then he heard a creak. The attic. He went up to the attic, and the sight in front of him rent his heart in two. His beautiful Natalie was draped over one of the boxes he had looked through weeks ago, crying her eyes out, her body shuddering with each breath. Clearly, she'd been crying for a long time and was at the point where he could see she was hurting herself. He walked toward her and softly said her name so he didn't scare her.

"Natalie?"

She whipped her head around so fast he thought she would break something.

"What are you doing here, Adrian? Get out! You have hurt me beyond anything I ever thought possible. You betrayed my trust, and you broke my heart all at once. Go away."

"Natalie, please…."

"'Please' what? How are you going to excuse your need to examine and investigate every single thing? I can't believe you waited all these years. It must have been eating you alive not to be able to pick apart my life and my husband's death. What took you so long?" Adrian recoiled as though he'd been slapped.

"Natalie, I never intended to hurt or betray you."

"Really? Just when I thought you might have some real feelings for me, all you were doing was picking my brain for my memories of Mitch. That hurts worse than anything."

Adrian finally summoned the courage to sit on the attic floor beside her, dirt be damned.

"Natalie, please look at me. You are right; I do have real feelings for you. About you. I have had for a long while. But I wanted you to have something that I finally have, real closure on the past. I could never let go and move on until I resolved Trudy's murder. Something always bothered me about the story of Mitch's death. So I wanted to give you closure too. So you could be free of the doubts you harbored."

Natalie looked at him with suspicion and curiosity. Tear tracks on her face cut through swipes of dust.

"It wasn't fair that you had doubts about the man you loved. It was sort of analogous to me feeling the bomb that killed Trudy was meant for me all those years."

Natalie remained silent but studied Adrian's earnest expression.

"I did it, Natalie. I did it. I had to rope Leland in at first and swore him to secrecy. I am sorry. But I couldn't do it alone. Then we needed a little more help to track down Dave Thomason and Rob Ryland. So we called in Agent Stone. We kept Randy on the periphery. He still doesn't know the full story. But the net-net is Mitch wasn't a coward, sweetheart. He was a brave, heroic patriot!"

Adrian took her hand; she allowed it. "Here's what happened; Mitch and Dave caught Rob various times trading weapons for cigarettes and drugs to the criminals in Kosovo. Dave was unconscious after the crash. He just went along with Rob's story…but never really believed it. Ryland confessed this morning that Mitch caught him one last time, taking the radio, weapons, and supplies to trade what he could, and Mitch caught up with him. Ryland got the drop on Mitch and shot him in the back. He left the radio and supplies with his body. Mitch did nothing wrong. Nothing, Natalie. He was a hero. Just as you always believed. I'm going to see if we can get him a medal for trying to stop the criminal behavior."

Natalie simply blinked at him after that long explanation. Then, she unwound her tense frame and plopped on the floor beside him.

"You did that for me?" The words came out as a choked whisper–the emotions were so painful, beautiful, and deep all at once.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Don't you know?"

Natalie shook her head, her expression clouded by emotions too numerous to count.

"Because, Natalie Jane Teeger, I love you. Madly. Deeply. Crazily. I love you, and I wanted to give you something that no one else could give you. I wanted to give Mitch's good name back to you."

Natalie's eyes shimmered with tears again. She was shocked that there were any tears left within her body.

"When I dreamed of this moment, when I wished for this moment, I definitely did not see us sitting in my attic. I knew I would cry. Because I've wanted you to love me for so long, but this isn't anything like the million scenarios I played out in my fantasies. I love you, Adrian Monk, and I have for a very long time. Thank you for this beautiful gift. I think that may be too little to acknowledge the enormity of what you just gave me, and Julie, too." She shook her head and wiped her tears on her sleeve, further mixing the dust with the salty water. "I'm sorry I got angry; I should have known you would never hurt me deliberately. You would never hurt anyone deliberately."

Natalie reached into his jacket's inner pocket for the travel pack of wipes. She took one and wiped her tear-stained face and her hands. Adrian put the green folder on top of the nearest box. Then he took Natalie's face in his hands, and his lips met hers in their first romantic kiss. Initially soft and delicate, it progressed to hungry and deep rather quickly, surprising them both.

When they parted, Adrian smiled at her, dimples on display. He'd forgotten how wonderful a kiss could feel. His lips were tingling, and his heart was dancing.

"What's this?" asked Natalie, noticing the green folder.

"Stuff I stole from you," he replied honestly.

"What?"

"I snuck up here one day and borrowed some stuff," he opened the folder and took out the photos and papers he'd purloined. "I can put them right back where they belong, now."

Natalie watched as he made quick work of returning pictures and papers she hadn't looked through in years.

"So you've been sneaking around for how long?"

"A few months."

"Maybe I shouldn't let you drive after all!" Natalie laughed.

"I think that genie is out of the bottle. I like my independence. I like being able to give you some of your life back."

"What if I don't want my life back? What if all I want to do is be with you?"

"Well, that can certainly be arranged. Because I feel the same."

Natalie rose to her knees, captured Adrian's chin with one hand, sank her other hand into his curls, and kissed him thoroughly. They both sighed with pleasure as she broke the kiss.

"Let's go downstairs." Natalie stood and pulled on his hand to make him follow her. He dusted himself off, grabbed the now-empty folder, and followed her down the stairs as she clicked off the light.