Very early on Monday morning, Natalie took her last shower in "her" bathroom and took the last of her things out of the room for the time being. She'd purchased one of those college shower caddies so she didn't have to leave anything in Adrian's bathroom that might disturb his sensibilities. After she dressed, she filled the bright pink caddy with her necessities in travel size and hoped that her bathroom would be finished before she needed refills.

Adrian had gone for a run, so she opened the door to the subcontractor and his three teams of workers when the doorbell rang. One was working on the cabana bathroom that would use the heating and the pipes from her bathroom, which was on that side of the house. Another went to work demolishing her bathroom, including the wall to the outside, and the third was adding a powder room off the entry to the house between the family room and the living room. They were losing a coat closet, but they had two facing each other there, which made no sense to either Adrian or Natalie. Natalie thought happily that these improvements would make the house far more liveable, saleable in the future, and more conducive to entertaining.

When Adrian walked in an hour and a half later, sweaty, tired, and somewhat sore, he was shocked at what was happening in their house and how it had happened in the blink of an eye. He'd run a little longer that morning, adding distance to his routine to make it more difficult, as he was getting used to the stretch he had been running for the last month. It was unlike him to make life more difficult, but it kept him active and in shape and, most of all, gave him some physical space from Natalie. Not that he really wanted to be away from her, but unless he was, all his thoughts, feelings, and needs would overwhelm him until they came tumbling out of his mouth at any moment. Even the least opportune one. Especially the least opportune one. So, he was doing this for his sanity until his courage built and his fragile heart felt like it could withstand telling her the truth.

Natalie yelled, "Hello!" over the noise coming from every direction as she furtively inspected his sweaty t-shirt as it clung to him in all the right places. She knew he'd probably never believe how sexy she found him, and what she felt was made more intense the longer they spent in close proximity to each other. She dared not allow her eyes to travel further down his body lest her attraction and faint arousal show through her thin and faulty façade.

"Hello!" he yelled back. "I'm going to shower. Should we leave after I'm dressed?"

"Yes! Definitely!"

Adrian escaped to his, uh, their, bathroom and took a shower. Trying desperately not to imagine Natalie in the shower stall later tonight or early tomorrow. Or both. He forced his mind to the vexing case they were working on, and he relaxed marginally. He simply couldn't touch himself—anywhere— having images of Natalie's million-watt smile or Natalie's delicate hands or Natalie's alluring body in his mind would lead to absolutely no good. No good at all.

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

With the lead contractor handling all the workers on the various projects inside and outside, Natalie and Adrian left the house in his capable hands. They escaped the noise to run errands and do additional research at the library. After an hour on the fourth floor in the movie and film section of the San Francisco Public Library, Natalie was buried deep in the Internet on her computer. Adrian was just as lost in books when something clicked for Natalie as she reviewed her notes and the case data. She stared up at the even and symmetrically built skylight as her thoughts fell into place. Inspired, she then made a chart on a new page of her notebook. She looked it over for flaws in her logic or reasoning, and when she found none, she got up her nerve to show it to Adrian.

"Adrian," she whispered urgently. "I think… I think I've got something."

She turned her notebook towards him, and he looked at the columns and notes in her neat, feminine handwriting. The months the murders occurred corresponded to the month each movie was released in theaters. Not the film's years, date, or theme, but for some reason, the months. That must mean something. Adrian beamed at her with pride and unmistakable adoration.

"Amazing work, Natalie, simply amazing!" Adrian exclaimed loudly and was immediately shushed by the nearest librarian. "Let's go!" He gathered, organized, and hurriedly returned his materials to the circulation desk. Natalie collected her purse, her laptop, and her notebook.

When they reached the car, which was right on Larkin Street by the entrance, he turned to her, and what he really wanted to do was take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. But, instead, he said, "I'm so incredibly proud of you, Natalie. I know I often forget to tell you. But get ready because here it is. You've become so observant, and how you make connections is natural and clear-headed. I've never had a partner who could work with me and make my work easier, to lift some of the burdens from me. I've needed it for so long, and it's simply wonderful. I know that sounds like it's all about me, but really it's about how amazing you are."

Natalie smiled bashfully and dipped her head to the side as she looked at him. It was a rare gift to receive praise from Adrian Monk.

He continued, "I don't say that because I'm shocked you can do the work; I'm definitely not. You've always been so smart and quick, but the fact that you came into criminal investigation the way you did—by happenstance—and then just sort of took to it, that's the part that astounds me all the time. You've learned so much over the years, and I am humbled to imagine you learned much from me."

Natalie just touched his arm and smiled. "Thank you, Adrian. Your approval, and your respect, they mean everything to me. I hope you know that. It's really all the motivation I need. Aside from solving the case, all I ever want to do is make you proud of me."

"You do. Over and over again, every single day. Ever since you put that dumb white corpuscle in his place at the science museum."

Natalie chuckled at the memory. One of a million they shared. "That was an important day for us." They stood there momentarily, lost in the other's smiling expression.

Finally, Adrian broke the suddenly awkward silence. "Well, let's run this idea by Leland and Randy and see if they have anything to add or can shed more light on it." She nodded, and they got into the car.

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

The hybrid pulled into the street behind them and followed them to police headquarters. Its driver's face and hair obscured by a hoodie and large dark glasses.

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

An hour later, the four old friends, long-time colleagues, and currently frustrated detectives alternately paced, wrung their hands, scratched their heads, and compulsively straightened things. Both Leland and Randy had thought the idea of the murder dates and the movie release dates had some merit, but neither had more of an idea than Monk and Natalie did of what it meant. They became so desperate they actually printed out calendars for the current year and hung them in a straight line, another Monk compulsion. Natalie wrote the movie information after Randy filled in the murder information. The pattern emerged even more clearly when it was visually represented.

Randy mused aloud, "So the anniversary of the movie's opening date precedes the murder by a day each time. Some creepy-ass celebration that is… what kind of motive could this be? Who would care about something so arcane and deeply inscrutable?"

Although Adrian appreciated Randy's much-improved vocabulary, maturity, and thought process these days, he was still frustrated by the oddly obtuse motivation of the perp. Murderers, especially serial murderers, usually had pretty straightforward, basic motivations: revenge, anger, financial gain, and attention seeking. There are others, such as sexual thrill killers, but he couldn't see the motive in this. Like all serial killers, he was suffering from a personality disorder of some sort, psychopathy, antisocial personality, or the like, but he wasn't insane. He was too organized. There was too much planning involved. He turned to Natalie when he heard her take a sharp breath.

"What is it, Natalie?"

"Dr. Phillips."

"Who?" asked Leland.

"Dr. Brian Phillips, a film studies professor at Berkeley. Actually, the head of the department. We went to see him the other day to see if he could shed light on the case," Adrian supplied. "What are you thinking, Natalie?"

"Can we see if Dr. Phillips has anything connecting him to the victims of the murders?"

"Sure," Randy answered, swiveling on his desk chair to his PC. He typed in the victims' names individually and asked for a crossmatch with Dr. Brian A. Phillips of Berkeley.

As the computer worked, the foursome discussed other cases, the upcoming housewarming party, but Adrian's mind drifted again to Natalie. Her mind was just so incredibly keen and agile. She was beginning to make the types of leaps and connections that he made. Could his gift actually be taught? Learned? Absorbed? A beep from Randy's desk caught all of their attention.

"Nice work, Natalie," Randy exclaimed. "Victim one was a guard at Berkeley before he worked at that company at Fisherman's Wharf; victim two was a student at UCSF after she transferred from USC where she had been a student of Dr. Phillips before he moved to Berkeley…." Randy went on, and it seemed that all five of the victims had some connection to Dr. Brian Phillips.

Adrian dropped heavily into the nearest chair. She'd done it. Again. Natalie had solved cases before, but those were using anger and intuition. It was he or Leland who provided the actual evidence. This time it was using true investigative skill and, as always happened in detective work, a lucky break. Just as he had over many years of his career, hard work, luck, and some ingenuity led to the solution he sought. Now Natalie got to feel that exhilaration, and he was thrilled for her. He realized he had long been silent, and his three companions stared at him.

Leland asked, "Anything to say, Monk?"

"What? No, oh! Sorry. Natalie knows how proud I am of her skills, but I will repeat it in front of you two. Well done, Natalie. I am very proud of how hard you worked and how your skills as a detective led you to the answer. Now, you must promise me you will take the exam in July. You are ready." He could give her no greater compliment or vote of confidence.

Leland was taken aback by Monk's declaration's apparent sincerity and lack of jealousy.

"I second that. You are ready, Natalie. Take the exam." Leland concurred and rubbed Natalie's arm in a friendly and proud fashion.

Adrian's brain crawled with jealousy silently. No one should touch Natalie. No one but him.

"Adrian's already convinced me I should. I will. I'll register first thing tomorrow." Natalie agreed with the men quickly.

"Good, good." Leland nodded his approval.

Meanwhile, Randy hung up the phone. "Well, you guys must have spooked him when you visited him. That was the Berkeley Campus Police. He isn't on campus at his office, regular lecture hall, or off-campus apartment. He hasn't been seen all day, according to reports. They will keep looking on campus, and we put an APB out for him and a BOLO on his car. We'll find him." Natalie locked worried eyes with Adrian.

Calmly, he returned her gaze, "We'll get him, Natalie, before he does anything else to anyone else."

"I want to call Julie, just in case." Her mothering instinct came out whenever something that involved Berkeley came up.

"Of course," Adrian nodded, "Just tell her not to go out alone. To be careful." The campus police were already on alert, but as she was living off campus now, it was always wise to be prepared. They hadn't mentioned Natalie's daughter was a student at Berkeley when they'd met with Phillips, so Adrian wasn't overly concerned.

They each had that feeling they always had just before a case was over. A frisson of fear, anxiety, and excitement combined.

𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ𝕸ɳ

After speaking with Julie, and a tense but dull vigil of nearly four hours, Natalie and Monk decided to go home to wait for news. It was more comfortable and they each had things to do at home. Laundry, the bookkeeping, vacuuming—all chores they'd put off earlier. Adrian was making good progress in allowing chores to wait when they had work to do or when there was an obstacle, such as house construction. Dr. Bell was pleased with his progress in this aspect of his life. Patience, forbearance, and letting go of things he couldn't control made him easier to get along with overall.

Natalie unlocked the door and put her purse and computer on the antique arts and crafts style table they had placed in the entry. Adrian followed her and deposited his keys and wallet in the basket beside her belongings. So homey, he thought, so familiar. He was still smiling at that feeling when Natalie screamed. Monk looked around frantically to see if she had fallen or hurt herself on something the construction crews had left lying around. It wasn't yet fully dark, and he could see a glint of light on Natalie's hair and realized someone was holding her from behind. Adrian's stomach clenched with fear.

"Natalie!" Monk shouted and raced towards her and her assailant.

The intruder pushed Natalie down and away and turned to face Adrian just as Adrian threw his fist at the stranger's face. He connected with the intruder's cheekbone, leaving his knuckles stinging, but he knew he had to keep going. When Adrian got up close and got a good look, he saw it was Brian Phillips, serial killer, here in their home.

He swallowed the fear and anger and swung at him again, hoping this time to connect with the bastard's nose to either break it or shove it so hard into his skull that he killed him. Adrian rarely thought in those terms of violence and murder, but Adrian knew he and Natalie'd be dead if he didn't protect them. He could just make out the soft tones of Natalie dialing her cell phone. Thank god she was okay enough to think of that, Adrian thought. That was his last thought as something hard hit him in his orbital ridge. The force of the blow threw him back violently. He hit his head on the pretty table in the entry on his way down to the floor and into unconscious oblivion.

Phillips turned back towards his first priority, Natalie. He took a cloth from his pocket and, with gloved hands, grabbed a bottle of chloroform from the counter where he'd placed it earlier.

"Natalie, come out, come out, wherever you are! Come on, don't you want to be the star of my next tableau? You're so lucky you stumbled into my office the other day! I wasn't sure who I would choose to make the centerpiece of 1997's I Know What You Did Last Summer, butyou're a perfect fit!"

Phillips caught up with her in the newly redone kitchen, where she'd hidden her telephone in the bowl of faux lemons, muted, on speakerphone, connected to Leland.

"Come on Natalie, you can't get very far!" Without warning, he was on her with the chloroform, and then she was unconscious. He began binding her arms and legs with duct tape. He was humming the song Hush to himself and didn't hear Adrian groan softly from the foyer.

A bound Natalie regained consciousness after a short time. There hadn't been much chloroform on the cloth, just enough to knock her out while he restrained her. Her captor was still humming. She recognized the song from the movie he had mentioned. That one had made an impression on her, released the year Mitch had died, and everything about that year had magnified in her memory. Every movie, every song, everything she would have shared with Mitch had exploded into super-sized anguish that year and never really left her.

Apparently, Phillips wanted an audience to whom to narrate his plan after he scrawled messages on the mirrors of the bathroom and bedrooms in Natalie's lipstick. Why did criminals always do that, Natalie wondered in a moment of clarity and resignation. They talked and talked. Just get it all over with. But, of course, they would never know if he'd done the same to his other victims. Had they known their fate? Natalie was terrified for herself and terrified not knowing if Adrian was dead. So involved was Dr. Phillips in creating his scene and terrorizing his hostage he seemingly forgot about Monk, who had regained consciousness and crawled silently to his room by this time. He retrieved his reliable Layne and Weston 92FS from the closet floor as quickly as possible. Natalie's life hung in the balance. He was not going to let her die.

He regained his footing and stood quite unsteadily. Although he was dizzy and nauseated and felt like he might "v" any second, he had to save Natalie. Adrian basically crept down the hall like a burglar in his own home. He reached Natalie and Phillips just before the killer could carry her out the garage door to place her on the driveway, so, he said as he walked, he could run her over with her own car. As close a parallel as he could get to the movie, he was telling the terrified blonde, then unbind her when she was dead. Adrian was so silent that only the click of his safety gave him away, and at that point, it was too late for the perp. If he was nothing else, Adrian Monk was a perfectionist. His aim was always accurate. Phillips instinctively spun toward the "click" sound with Natalie tossed over his shoulder, Adrian's aim was true, and he shot him through his forehead. Phillips was dead before he hit the ground.

Unfortunately, Natalie also hit the ground. Adrian rushed to her, picked her up, and held her tightly as he carried her to the couch. He took the bindings from her ankles and wrists. Then, with a gentle tug, the tape from her mouth was removed. Natalie threw her arms around Adrian and wept silently as he picked up the house phone from the end table and called Leland.

"Leland?" He choked out, not realizing he was crying too.

"Monk?" Leland screamed, "Are you okay? We're almost there. Natalie called but didn't say anything. I knew something was wrong. I made out a bit of the conversation. The whole cavalry is on the way."

"Phillips is dead. I killed him. It was us or him, Leland."

"You did good, buddy. You saved Natalie. You saved both of you. We're almost there."

Adrian and Natalie remained fused together on the couch when the cacophony of sirens, people, and generalized hysteria filled the air around the house. Then inside, as crime scene techs came, EMTs came to examine them both. Leland could barely pry Natalie from Adrian long enough to allow the EMTs to look at his head and the enormous lump forming above and around his right eye. He looked like he'd gone a few rounds with their friend Ray Regis. Adrian also had a bump on the back of his head due to hitting the table on the way down. How he'd regained consciousness and saved Natalie was a miracle. One of a string of such miraculous occurrences in their lives together. He'd managed to save her life on several occasions, but this was close. Too close. The EMT determined he absolutely had to go to the hospital. Natalie's injuries were less concerning, but she wouldn't leave him or let him go alone, so she, too, was going to the hospital.

Adrian was forced to lie still on the gurney while the EMT rechecked his vital signs, and Natalie sat beside him, a worried look on her face. She bit her lip to keep from saying every single thought that popped into her head, but she couldn't help the thoughts of relief, gratitude, and love that washed over her. This just wasn't the place. She smiled a shaky smile at him, took his hand, and held it loosely. There were bruises on his knuckles from where he'd hit Phillips.

"Excuse me," she said softly, but yet it sounded thunderous in the speeding ambulance.

The EMT turned to her, "Yes?"

"Do you have one of those twist cold packs for his hand? He has some bad bruises forming here."

"Sure, I'm sorry he didn't mention his hand was hurting too."

"That's because it doesn't!" Adrian emphatically declared as he tried to sit up. "Natalie…" he groaned, dizzy and embarrassed at the fuss.

"Shh. Let me take care of you." She pushed him mildly back into the pillow. Finally, he relented, but only because of the sound of her voice. She sounded a little broken but acted like she was trying to be strong. So, if taking care of him helped her regain a moment of strength, he wouldn't argue.

They arrived at the hospital with a police escort, thanks to Leland's sirens and crazy driving. He was worried about his friends. The evening had been terrifying and traumatic. Leland almost couldn't believe his eyes when he found them locked together on the couch. Natalie was wracked with sobs, probably a combination of relief and the adrenaline leaving her system. Tears silently fell from Adrian's eyes as well; despite how he looked and probably felt, he stayed silent and held Natalie, rubbed her back, and allowed his shirt to dampen with her tears.

Adrian was seen immediately, and head injuries were taken much more seriously in the last decade, even if the patient was fully conscious. High-profile deaths where the patient could have survived an epidural hematoma with quick action made the medical profession wary of the wait-and-see approach that had been taken if a patient was awake and speaking after being unconscious. Adrian had a full head CT and a set of X Rays. He had a concussion in the rear of his head and a minor fracture where he'd been hit over his eye with what Leland told them was their fireplace poker. The lump over his brow had a clot they would try to reduce with some blood thinners for a few hours, but if that didn't work, they would have to do surgery. Meanwhile, he had to remain awake.

Natalie had been attended to, bandaged on her small cuts, given pain meds for the bruising and aches she was bound to have tomorrow, and as she sat by Adrian's side in the trauma room, she spoke quietly to Leland to find out what was happening at their house.

"I hate to say this, but it was the easiest scene we've had in months. Your house is so damn clean," he smirked at Adrian, whose bruised face was too painful to do anything but nod at his friend, "the evidence trail was clear and easy to follow, and you have a license for your gun, he was in your house, so it's all straightforward. Believe me, there will be no investigation except into Phillips himself. I want to look backward and see if there were any other unsolved crimes he might be responsible for."

"Thanks, Leland," Natalie said softly.

The captain's phone rang, and he stepped out to answer it.

Natalie looked back at Adrian and saw his eyes closed, lashes fanned across his upper cheeks. She smiled at how sweet he looked at rest, then immediately panicked and said urgently, "Adrian, you can't sleep. I mean not now, get up," she shook his shoulder gently. He roused in a confused state and started babbling nonsense. She made out her name several times, and then he said the word safe as if it were a question.

"Yes, Adrian, wake up. I'm safe. You saved me yourself!"

But Adrian didn't answer. Frantically, Natalie dropped his hand and took off for the nurses' station. Two doctors and a nurse rushed to Adrian's side and decided they needed to do an evacuation of the hematoma. They explained to Natalie that they would drill one small hole in his skull to drain the blood. Draining the blood would then relieve the pressure on the brain from the blood buildup. They also explained a small drain might have to be left in place for several days following surgery to allow the blood to continue draining.

Natalie freaked out at what that would mean in the world of Adrian Monk, but his survival was more important than his phobias, and as his medical proxy gave her consent. She paced for the two hours the surgery took and the hour he was in the recovery room without her. In just the time he'd been gone, Natalie's step counter had added over twenty thousand steps. Neither Leland nor Randy could get her to sit or eat anything. She finally accepted a bottle of water that Leland pressed into her hand. Her nervous energy wouldn't allow her to sit still until she saw him again. Her imagination was working overtime with fear and anxiety.

Two orderlies and a nurse finally brought him to his room in the ICU ward, and Natalie took up a post at his side and refused to leave. The surgeon came in and spoke to her about the surgery, the bottom line was the doctor was pleased with the surgery, and Adrian would be fine in a few days. "The long-term effects of the hematoma and subsequent surgery will require observation, but he should be back to mostly normal in a few days, except for the bruising. I'll want a follow-up in a week."

She sat and watched him sleep, and tears of relief rolled down her cheeks. She whispered to him, "You're going to be alright, Adrian. You might have a tiny scar that will make you a little asymmetrical when you look in the mirror, but you will always be handsome to me. Your scar will always remind me of how you saved me, and when I look at you, asymmetry will not be a problem. Do you know what my real problem is? You're stuck in the past, and I'm stuck on you.

"And do you know what your problem is? You're smart. Too smart. You overthink because your mind moves at a million miles a minute in a thousand directions. You're sad because you're not fooled by the world like anyone else. You've been agonizingly hurt, and I totally understand that feeling. You feel alone because you don't get along with most people. After all, they don't look at things the way you do and don't feel like you do. But you don't realize you have me, and you have had me almost as long as you've known me. And I understand you and how you feel, but I also know there is more between us now.

"I also know you think you're dumb sometimes because you're smart enough to know you don't know everything. The social things, the everyday life things. But again, you have me for that, Adrian. So I guess I'm saying your problem is you're too smart. And that's not a problem at all. It's the reason I love you, Adrian, and now I have to find a way to tell you all of this when you're actually awake."

Leland had overheard most of Natalie's whispered confession to Adrian and silently rejoiced that his suspicions were correct. As he backed away silently, he realized his dear friends would eventually find their way to a happy ending if only they could get out of their own way.