Title: Life goes on…

By Jo Jo lee

Pairing: Monk/OMC

Rating: Slash PG

Summary: Monk gets a helping hand at a friend’s wake

Life goes on…
By Jo Jo lee

Monk could feel his anxiety rising. His chest was tightening and his arm was starting to hurt. It wasn't right. He needed it to be right. He closed his eyes, Breathe, one, two, three, breathe. He was not going to do this. He was not going to do this. Breathe, one, two, three, breathe.

Monk balled his fists and looked around the room. The curtains were drawn unevenly, there was a water spill on the table. There were cracks on the south wall. Evidently the foundation had unfortunately shifted. Seven glasses laid on various surfaces. Once he started cataloging the details of the room, he couldn't stop. Breathe, one, two, three, breathe. He closed his eyes again.

He should have not come, but how could he not come. Brian had been his friend. Brian had been one of the first faces he had seen after coming out of a catatonic state that had lasted two and a half years. It was Brian who talked to him even when he couldn't separate the words enough to understand them. Now Brian was gone. Useless! Useless! Gone for no reason other than a stupid car accident.

Monk's anger pushed him closer to a panic attack. He folded his arms around himself. Better if it had been a murder, at least then Monk would be able to do something! Breathe, one, two, three, Breathe. The noise, the noise was getting too much. He closed his eyes again. Just breathe.

A child had run through the room, six jellybeans were scattered across the carpet. The kid's nose was running. God! Don't think. Cobweb in the ceiling light. Not important. The curtains were not even. Not important. Breathe, one, two, three, Breathe. Damn, Damn, Damn. He wasn't going to be able to stand this much longer. He needed to get out of here, but he was frozen. Where was she? She was thirty-six minutes late.

Her right hand front tire had been low. She was probably waiting for AAA on Hemlet Highway.

The room was closing in and in his mind's eye he could see every detail that was not right. He didn't realize that he had started rocking himself. He was desperately trying to make the details of chaos go away. He was trying not to jump up and attempt to fix the room in which he found himself. He was trying to breathe. Breathe, one, two, three, breathe.

****************

Michael had been watching Adrian Monk for the last twenty minutes and was debating what to do. Everyone seemed to be ignoring the man who clearly was having some difficulties. Brian's letters were full of Adrian Monk, his brilliance and the tragedy that had befallen him. Brian had been so in love with him. And Monk, of course demonstrated how in love he had been with his wife that he flipped out for a couple of years and then eased back into life in this state of…weirdness.

Brian had gone into great detail about Monk's struggles and marveled at the fact that in only three short conscious months Monk had improved so much and had been able to solve a complicated murder case as a consultant.

Well, for Brian, he had to do something. He couldn't let Monk fall apart at Brian's wake. Michael stood up and grabbed a napkin, not as good as a wet one, but it would have to do. He walked over to the man and knelt before him and grabbed one hand gently, making sure that his own hand was encased in the napkin.

"Hello Mr. Monk, remember me? I'm Michael O'Malley, Brian's cousin. Ah, the gay bookseller. I just bought the Treasure Trap a few months back. Remember, Brain brought you to visit once."

Monk stopped rocking, having something to distract him. He sighed with relief at the napkin covered hand and was grateful enough to try to focus enough to respond.

"Three thousand and forty-two books the time I was there. Seventeen hundred paperbacks. Four hundred and two gay novels. You didn't have any Michael Nava. Did you sell out? Did someone buy them all at once? You had a seven and a quarter empty space there. Two hundred and nineteen self-help books. Five hundred and thirty-four children's books. No order there, the children don't put them back."

Michael leaned back on his heels. Was this guy for real? His numbers sounded right and he did remember a guy came in and did buy his Nava. Michael leaned back in and interrupted softly, "How about you and I getting out of here and go out to the side yard. There is a table and a couple of chairs there. It's quiet."

Monk nodded, "OK, Ok."

*****************

The side yard was cool and there was the soft sound of a near by, but out of site water fall. The small yard had lots of flowers whose colorful blooms were in wild disarray. Michael looked apprehensively looked around.

Monk looked at Michael's boyish face and picked up on his concern. Michael was one and a half inches taller than Monk. He was thin with wavy brown hair that cascaded down to his collar and fell over his left eye. His eyes were hazel and he wore wire rim glasses. He had wonderful lips and slightly crooked but very white teeth. He was dressed in exactly the same outfit Monk had seen him in before. He wore brown cords and a power blue knit shirt worn loose and one his feet were Birkenstocks with brown socks.

Monk hurried to reply, "Don't worry, this doesn't bother me. For some reason the irregularity of nature is smoothing. This is where Brian would bring me when he collected me for a visit."

Michael relaxed, "I'm going to miss Brian. I can't believe that I just moved out here so I could spend more time with him and now he's gone."

Monk looked at the geraniums that Brian had planted because he said Michael liked them. "I'm sorry. Brian was excited to have you here. It's lonely when you're the only gay O'Malley around. Brian wasn't comfortable with his gayness. I was hoping you would change that. He admired how you were able to be yourself."

Michael looked at Monk closely, he wasn't at first sight handsome, but he had a …he grew on you and did it quickly. He had beautiful eyes and he was…endearing? Ah, Michael what the hell are you doing?

"Thank you. Would you like to come to the book shop some time soon? I'll let you put all the books in order. Dust them too, if you like. What the hell do you do for sex? All I can think of is that scene from that stupid movie where Priscilla Presley and whatever his name is, make love in full-length condoms. Must be a bummer."

Monk was shocked at first. No one had yet approached him on that topic, not even his doctor. No, it was way too soon, if ever, but he had seen that movie and it was funny. He laughed. "Ah, maybe pictures, but you had only one hundred and three books that concerned sex."

Michael smiled, "Well, would you be offended if maybe I made my own picture book for you? I could whisper a running dialog in your ear as you turn the page."

Monk grinned, "Would the pictures be of you?"

Before Michael could answer a strident voice called from the doorway, "Monk, Monk, you would not believe what happened. There I was…"

Monk quietly interrupted, "Your right front tire blew on Hemlet Highway and you had to wait for AAA."

"How did you know? You won't tell me, will you? Well, we have to go."

Noticing the young man at the table she smiled and said "Hi,.."

Monk interrupted her again, "He's Michael O'Malley, Brian's cousin, remember, from the book store."

She nodded her head, "Oh yea, glad to see you again. Are you ready Monk?"

Monk turned towards the door a little uncertainly, and looked back when he heard Michael voice.

"How about Tuesday, I'll pick you up at nine. Plan to stay the day."

Monk gave Michael a quick smile and marched to the door, careful to avoid the branches of a fern that partially blocked the portal.

"I need to pack," muttered Monk.

Clarissa clicked her tongue, "Monk, its only Saturday."

Monk quickened his pace, Michael's grinning face in his mind's eye and the sound of his voice echoing in his head, "I know, I know, but I want to be ready."

(2)

Michael sloughed back in his chair and stared at the doorway Monk and his nurse had exited through a while back. What the hell was he doing? Taking over Monk's care for Brian? Maybe. Michael's mind flashed again to that ridiculous scene in, what was the name of that…Oh yeah, The Naked Gun, while the gun may have gotten naked at some point in the movie, Michael didn't remember, Leslie Nelson and Priscilla didn't. He remembered each of them being shoved head first
into a giant condom and blindly and pathetically tottering toward each other with intentions of having sex. Fat chance.

That was also about the only future possible with Monk. Poor bastard. Brian had known Monk for five or six years and had said that Monk had always been bi-sexual and unfortunately, monogamous. Michael had scoffed, the myth of the bi-sexual was one he had never bought. However, Monk had responded to his flirting with humor and interest.

Brian and Monk had been friends and Brian had become even a better friend when his Monk had crashed and burned with the violent death of his wife. Blown up in their car. A bomb that had been met for Monk.

Brian had said that Monk believed in fidelity and loved his wife to distraction. A man of character, Brian had said. A brilliant man whose little quirks had grown into a full-blown compulsive disorder,
making a shambles of his life. Well, at least now he had a life.

Brian had visited consistently over the two and a half years that Monk was unresponsive and had stared at nothing. After the first month the doctors had declared Monk in a permanent comatose state. Brian had talked to him about everything. Monk's family and the family of his wife had given up on him, but not Brian. And Brian, with his incredible nurturing streak had fallen in love with his damaged friend.

Michael had no doubt that it was because of Brian that Monk had started talking back to him three months before.

Six months ago, Brian had talked Michael into moving back home and Michael had been grateful. Brian had been taking care of him too. Michael was still shaky, still had bad times, but Brian had walked him through most of it. Late night telephone calls that lasted for hours. Somehow, Brian understood when no one else did. Not his ex-lover Paul who got tired of the nightmares and left, not his friends and certainly not any of the rest of the family.

It was so pointless, three years ago he'd simply gone to the post office to mail Christmas gifts to a few friends when Donald Westman, unhappy employee, came in and shot fourteen people dead and wounded seven more. Michael had not been hurt, but everyone around him was dead.

He knew what is was like to be afraid, he knew what it was like to feel guilty even when your brain told you that you had no cause. He knew what it was like to have your current life momentary and suddenly replaced by a nightmare. Nothing made it completely go away. But like Brian had said, time and distance were the most potent of medicines, and Brian, Michael silently added.

Many times Michael though it would be easier to deal with if he and those people had been targeted because they were gay. An issue to fight for, die for. An issue to get angry for and let that anger burn away some of the hate. But, gayness had nothing to do with it. It was just a random act of violence that had changed and damaged him forever.

Michael got up and walked over to his geraniums. He wanted to take them with him. Brian had planted them for him. Now, he was the lone gay O'Malley.

The family had not come down too hard on Brian. Michael thought that the family wisdom was that Brian was salvageable. After all, he didn't actually date and he volunteered his time watching over that crazy man. Brian was a mild mannered man who earned his living fixing PC's.

But for him, Michael, everyone had something to say. He came out in high school and caused the family all sorts of embarrassment and hassles. His parents didn't actually disown him, but had distanced themselves quite effectively. It was easy when he was the youngest of six kids. His five older sibs had married and produced tons of grandchildren. His aunts and uncles had always been polite and formal, his cousins occasionally rude and dismissive. He had fled.

His cousin Brian was the only one who kept in touch with him, cared for him and now he was gone. Michael had toyed with leaving again, but he had bought the bookstore and he liked it. It was a homey little nook in Old Town and it felt right. He was able to live in a small studio apartment over the store. He never had to leave unless he wanted to. He felt safe. No one in the family would probably ever see it.

Only Brian had come down and once he had brought Monk. So happy and proud to have this shuffling man at his side. That was almost two months ago. Michael had not been too impressed with Monk. He had come in with Brian, dressed formally in a suit. He had held his head down the entire time and wandered through the stacks mumbling to himself like a street person. Evidently he had been counting books. He had improved a lot in a few weeks.

Michael sat back down and grabbed his now iceless and diluted ice tea. What was he doing? He guessed he was going to be Monk's friend for Brian and he admitted for himself too.

He liked the Monk he saw today. Liked the courage and loyalty that had brought him to Brian's wake. It could not have been easy. He liked the fight in him and the sparkle he detected as he flirted with him. Liked his compassion, making sure he communicated to him that Brian had admired him. Brian. How could Brian be gone? It seemed incomprehensible that Brian would not walk through the door. Michael got up, impatient to be gone. Instead of going through the house,
Michael slipped out the side gate.

*

Monk was packing, well sort of. He had spent the last hour arranging things. It seemed that one part of him had to keep busy arranging, correcting…ah controlling his environment were the words his doctor used. It was the only way he could think. He was going back to the bookstore and he was going to spend the day with Michael.

This was going to be so hard! Could he do it? If he brought his food, his cookware, his plastic tableware, extra clothes, cleaning materials-he would need to clean the bathroom and the kitchen. So much! But he knew that if he didn't he'd be screaming and in a lock down ward before lunch. Maybe he couldn't do it. No he had to do it. He just had to figure what he needed to do to make it work. He had to do it for Brian. Brian wasn't here to take care of Michael anymore.

He had to take care of Michael for Brian, he would do it as well as he was able. Brian had told him about the massacre in the post office and the subsequent problems. A break up of a long-term relationship and friends pulling away when Michael couldn't just put it behind him. Brian had told him about the lack of family support and his concerns for him.

Brian had been so happy when Michael agreed to move back to be near Brian. He had said that Michael was a sweet and gentleman who had become incredibility lonely and no longer seemed to have the energy to socialize anymore, let alone meet new people. Brain had said Michael had always needed people, had always needed affection. Michael had been tucking himself away with his books, cataloging.

Brain was afraid that in Michael's lonely isolation, Michael would end up killing himself. It had been a real fear for Brian.

Michael had bought and collected enough stock to open his dream of a new and used bookstore, but showed no interest in finding a place. He kept saying he didn't have enough money, so when Michael had agreed to move, Brian had bought the Treasure Trap and set up payments for Michael. As it turned out, Michael had saved plenty of money and had been able to pay Brian back in one payment.

Brian had picked well and had been delighted that Michael seemed to love the store, studio and its location. Brain said that Michael had perked up and that the quirky side of his personality was starting to peak out at times. Things had been going so well…Oh Brian, what are we going to do without you?

Monk got up, going over his packing list as he dusted once again. If he had to pack everything he owned he was going and he was not going to fall apart. He liked books. He liked Michael. Monk paused, yes, he really did like him. Michael seemed to tolerate his strangeness without getting upset or impatient or rude. When he had approached Monk he had known what to do and how to do it. Brian may have coached him a bit, but it took kindness and a good sense of humor.

Michael was a nice man, just looking at him had made Monk feel good. Yes, he was going to do this. He was going to visit Michael. Thank God, he was going to be able to organize those books. The science fiction section had been a mess. Two hundred and eleven books, one hundred and sixty-seven paperbacks. No complete David Eddings set. Michael had been missing volume two of the first set and volume three of the second.

Monk kept working and kept thinking, I will do this, I can do this, I want to do this.

(3)

Sharona shook her head in dismay. Monk was being a crazy man even by his standards. She sat down wearily, determined to step out of it all for a few minutes. She clutched her coffee cup and tried to ignore the fanatic sounds of stuff being thrown around.

"Where are the toothbrushes and paste? There are only two left in the bathroom." Monk's voice had taken on a peevish edge and Sharona gritted her teeth. He was worst than a toddler at times.

"Monk, I'm taking my break."

"Please Sharona, I need to know, I need to pack them now. I think ten should do. That leaves a few in case…in case…"

Monk's voice had risen in to a high tenor. Sharona was ready to gag him. "Monk, I bagged fifty of them this morning. Top left drawer in the linen nook."

Good thing those toothbrushes were free. Because of Monk's disorder, cheap toothbrushes and small vials of toothpaste were provided as part of his treatment. His job was to cut down on the number he used a day.

At the beginning he was using over thirty of them a day. He would stand and brush his teeth until he couldn't taste the toothpaste any more, than throw out the brush and vial of toothpaste and open a new one and start over again.

They had given him the softest brushes and finally paste made out of a mild cream and peppermint. He was destroying the enamel on his teeth by over brushing. Now there were days when he only used four or five packs. He was back on real toothpaste. Sharona had emergency packs of the mild stuff when Monk was having a bad day.

Sharona sighed, she had to relax. She was lucky she had fell into this job. It gave her a lot more flexibility to spend time with her son. She actually liked Monk. It had been an extra bonus and very exciting following him around on the murder case. He had amazed her. She had seen a hint of the man he had been before. But on days like this he could be tedious and exasperating. She needed a break.

Monk's visit with Michael O'Malley would be a nice break, if he could last the day. Visits with Brian O'Malley had lasted three or four hours and had gone fine. Ah, she had to remember Monk was grieving for his friend. She needed to be a bit more patient, a bit more kind, but for the last two days, Monk was driving her crazy! Tomorrow could not come too soon!

***********************

Tuesday Morning 8:23 AM

Michael scrubbed his bathroom until it shinned. He would tell Monk to use his studio bathroom where there would only be the two of them using it. He had bought a package of ten washcloths and encased each one neatly in a baggie. He lined up ten little soaps from a variety of hotels and set out ten individually wrapped plastic cups.

He had bought the brightly colored plastic cups and then wrapped each one in plastic wrap. He remembered Brain talking about some of the preparations he made for Monk's visits. He had cleaned the coffee carafe and lined the inside and outside with plastic wrap. He also had bought five hundred count packages of latex gloves. The counter man at the medical supply store had suspiciously looked at him like he knew the criminal acts these gloves would be engaged in. Michael had uneasy. He didn't like being the focus of attention of a stranger.

He was nervous and not sure he would be able to cope if things went wrong. He should have planned for a short visit, but he had remembered Brian saying that Monk had a lot of preparation to do to be able to go out and enter into an environment that somebody else controlled, so you might as well make the visit count, time wise. Michael had been invited to come over during one of Monk's visits, he wished he would have gone. Maybe he should close the store, no. He never really had too much business. Monk just needed a safe place to go if things got too busy.

Up here in the studio should be fine. It was about 200 square feet so Michael didn't have much furniture. He kept it uncluttered with just a bed, table and two chairs and another table where a small TV stood. A small CD player rested on the small kitchen counter. It was simple, and he shoved his small clutter of books and magazines in the closet.

He ran downstairs and put on light jazz station on the storewide music system and turned it low. Nothing he could do about most of store. He was truly out of him mind, but this felt good. Sanity was overrated.

Well, time to go get Monk. He grabbed his car keys and the plastic drop cloth he had bought to cover the seat and headed out the door.

*****************

Monk stood outside his doorway watching the street, waiting for Michael. Beside him stood three suitcases and a plastic sack. He would be fine. He would be fine. Sharona had promised to bring him anything he needed, this being his first independent visit to the bookstore.

Sharona had managed to talk him out of his suit. He stood uncertainly in a pair of black slacks and a gray knit shirt. He looked down at his shoes. Laced black hushpuppies. He felt like his mother had just dressed him for his first day at kindergarten.

Sharona was a firm believer in Hushpuppies for him. Rubber soles and a shoe that was kind of fuzzy and impossible to polish. He sighed, he couldn't blame her. He had spent a day polishing all his police shoes and boots. All had gone well until he had gotten some polish on his hands. It didn't wash off.

He had screamed and cried for hours as Sharona and him had tried to get the polish off. He shuddered, he hated it when he got like that, but he was powerless to stop his panic once he fixated on some…problem. He wasn't able to focus on anything but the one threat until it didn't exist anymore.

Sharona had a good heart and put up with more than she had too. Monk was grateful. He really didn't know how he would make it day by day without her. However, when she went all maternal on him, he hated it. Of course, unfortunately, occasionally, he needed a mother to put up with his rants and raves and hysteria. They were getting use to each other and sometimes she was more sister than mother, he liked those times best.

Since he had caught Matthew Barrows, murderer, Sharona had started to treat him more like an adult who had child moments or sometime, hours. He closed his eyes, once in a while he could see himself as others must see him and he cringed.

He felt a spike of anxiety and quickly opened his eyes and started his breathing exercises. He was walking on a tightrope, balancing one foot after the other to stay sane. His worst fear was that he would just fade away again and never come back, or come back as a ninety year old man in a strange world peopled with nothing but strangers. He had to hang on every minute.

His personal world had become so small. Small and mundane things took on an importance and bizarre power over his sense of well being. Dirt, dust, germs, the order of things were enough to smash to smithereens any portion of peace he grasped at. He would feel like he was about to implode and the tiny pieces that would be left would be still there floating, but would be inanimate. Maybe still working like a computer, but he wouldn't be there anymore.

He was sweating, he needed to relax and breathe. He had to remember why he was doing this, for Brian, for Michael, for himself. Monk's world of friends was small, and he selfishly wanted Michael for a friend. Michael had talked to him like an adult, like he expected Monk to be able to respond, God the man had even flirted with him.

It was the first time since he woke up that he had felt like a normal person in those few minutes. Brian was wonderful, but such a mother hen. Monk had loved that, had needed that, but Michael had just treated him like a fellow mourner, not a piece of glass ready to break. Someone to comfort, but also someone to be comforted by.

Monk felt himself relaxing. He could do this, he would do this.

(4)

The trip to the bookstore had taken twenty minutes. Monk didn't like to ride in cars, but he could handle it. Michael had the seat prepared for him, Brian had evidently told him a lot about the care and handling of one, Adrian Monk. Monk was glad, it made everything easier. Michael had not even blinked at the sight of three fully loaded suitcases, he had just whipped out a Kleenex and grabbed the handles and loaded them on board.

On the drive over, Monk had closed his eyes and leaned back and listened to Michael. Michael was prattling on about baseball of all things. Monk had forgotten about baseball or any kind of sports. He was so far out of touch. It was hard to generate enough interest to care but Michael was catching him up on the last two seasons and Monk was enjoying the sound of Michael's voice.

Michael's voice was unique in a very ordinary way. A very pleasant voice that he decided he could listen to for a long time. Who did Michael say won the World Series? He was complaining about Barney and someone named Bob. Who was Bob?

Monk decided he needed to focus on the words a little closer, but that voice was so nice. The voice stopped and so did the car. Monk opened his eyes and saw they were parked in a stall in an alley. It was just beside the store's back door.

Michael smiled and got out. "Let's get your things upstairs first and then you can do whatever it takes to make yourself comfortable."

Monk grinned and nodded, "Thanks, upstairs is where you live?"

Michael wrapped a Kleenex around the handles of two of the suitcases and heaved them out of the car and waited while Monk collected the other suitcase and plastic sack. Michael led them up a small staircase and into his studio.

Monk looked around and sighed with relief as he saw the simplicity of the place. He noted the clean bathroom with the plastic covered plastic cups, the wrapped soaps and the new washcloths stuffed into baggies. He looked at the kitchen and its plastic encased coffeepot and smiled.

"Thanks, Michael. This is very nice, Brian must have given you lessons. I'm sorry, I'm such a…so…"

Michael walked over to Monk quickly and made eye contact with him. "Yes, you are a bother, but Brian thought the world of you and I like you. We'll figure out how to make our visits pleasant and we'll adapt. I've got a lot of work for you downstairs. I'm far too lazy to keep the store in the order it should be. I expect you to inspire me."

Michael went to a hook by the side of the door and grabbed two smocks. "I got these for the dust. Are you OK about the dust?"

Monk nodded, "OK, as long as I'm cleaning."

Michael handed Monk his smock and said, "OK, let's get going. I have bottled water down stairs and soda."

Monk hesitated and was looking at the smock. Michael looked at Monk and asked, "What?"

"These are kind of cutesy aren't they. What is those?"

Michael examined the smocks, they were cute. "Don't you think the browns and blues are nice. Those are books and those little things floating here and there are pens and pencils and such. You know the things of writing. Those other things there, you might recognize as glasses. A reader's tool. They seemed right for a book store, of course they did have some with dust mops and pails."

Monk laughed and put his on. If only Captain Leland Stottlemeyer could see him now. He looked down at himself and his gaze ended with his Hushpuppies, oh God.

Michael interrupted him out of his reverie, "Oh you look too cute. Here, I bought lots of these. Consider these your own private box of latex gloves, here's our tub of Clorox disinfecting wipes and a box of paper dusting cloths and we're off!"

Monk chuckled, Michael had a way about him that you just had fun ridding on his wit and personality. This was going to be fun. Feeling fully armed to fight dust mites and disorder he followed Michael down the stairs to his shop.

Michael walked to the front door and unlocked it and turned the closed sign around. "Well Monk, where should we start?"

Monk was already headed to the section, "Science Fiction, it was a mess. Did you ever order more David Eddings? You could have used some more Phillip Dick, too."

Remembering Monk's facility for cataloging stock, Michael seized a small notebook and followed behind Monk. "Who did you say I need?" asked Michael.

By lunchtime they had worked their way through the entire Science Fiction section and had begun working on the mystery section. They had had a great time. Monk had found as long as his hands were busy creating order and cleanliness, that his mind was free and he felt at ease chatting with Michael. They had talked about anything that the
books inspired and occasionally veered off into silliness. Both had laughed and giggled.

Michael was amazed at Monk's knowledge of Books and authors. Monk was quick and appeared to like word games as much as he did. He was anxious to set up a game of scrabble some time. Monk had seemed at ease and his eyes had sparkled when he was able to best him at some test of wit.

He looked down at the waste basket, he was glad he had bought five boxes of those latex gloves, Monk had gone through almost an entire box in three and a half hours. Now to lunch.

Lunch was not quite as easy, but they managed. Michael just stepped back and let Monk take over. Monk had brought food and every thing else needed. While Monk was making lunch, Michael decided to toss the smocks into the wash and get two fresh ones. If Monk thought the brown and blue smocks were cute, wait till he saw the children's literature ones.

They were blue, pink, green and yellow pastels with a hint of brown. Depicted on them were various characters from famous children's literature. There was Alice in Wonderland, Peter Rabbit, all the characters from The Wind in the Willows, and assorted fairies and a hobbit or two.

Michael had a lot of child in him. He acknowledged he would much rather live in Disneyland than in any adult reality that he knew. He loved bright happy primary colors and soft muted colored that suggested fairies and magic. He only liked happy endings and had always avoided any extra drama in his life. A lot of good that did him.

Michael liked to play, and enjoy his little part of the world. He enjoyed the cute smocks and had gone shopping and bought four sets of two a piece for him and Monk. He had six others that he would wear when Monk was with him.

Lunch was made of Monk's home made soup, (he said he didn't trust cans), homemade bread from Datter's Bakery, (Monk did trust Simon Datter), salad and apples. Monk had made coffee and Michael could not remember when he had enjoyed lunch more.

After lunch was over and the clean up complete Monk had come down in the colorful smock that glorified children's literature. Michael had wondered if he would actually put it on after the face Monk had made when he first saw it.

Michael had had to come down early because of a spattering of customers that had found their way to his door. Sales had been moderate and Monk had seemed comfortable with Michael's occasional disappearances to wait on customers.

The afternoon went quickly and was interrupted by a shipment of books. Michael showed Monk how to check in books and then they stocked them. It was after four when they finished.

Sharona was picking Monk up at five thirty because the store didn't close until 9 PM.

Monk decided to leave two of suitcases with Michael, and packed the third one up. The food in the plastic sack was gone. It had gone well and he had really enjoyed himself. Michael had said they might as well make Tuesdays a regular thing. It was day the book shipments came in and Michael was grateful for the help.

Monk was fussing with the latches on the suitcase when Michael came up to tell him Sharona had arrived. Monk nodded and turned towards Michael and for the first time that day felt awkward. "Thank you. Ah…the shop closes early on Sunday, doesn't it? Your open 10 is to 9 PM six days a week and noon to five on Sunday. I read the sign."

Michael looked at Monk who had started to babble and hold his head down. Michael knew he had to make eye contact or Monk would never say what he was trying to say. Michael came over and stood in front of Monk and with a latex gloved finger tilted Monk's head slightly up until Michael could look into his eyes. "What is it Monk?"

Monk took a second to focus and then plowed in before he could change his mind. "Come Sunday night. I have a scrabble board. Come for dinner and scrabble."

A smile broke out on Michael's face. "I'll come! It'll be fun! Do you like chips or pretzels for munching purposes?"

Monk shyly smiled back, "I like Fritos."

Michael chuckled, "Then Fritos it will be."

Monk nodded, "And don't forget the pictures."

"Pictures?"

Monk bent over to pick up the suitcase, "Ah, you know, you said you were going to make me a book."

Michael laughed, "Oh, I've been picking some out. Why don't I bring a supply and we'll pick out the best ones together."

Monk started for the door, Carlson's Sex Guide for Gays and Morison's Gay Photo Album are both damaged. You won't be able to sell them. Why don't you bring those and if there are any interesting photos in them, we might use them.

Why don't you carry any magazines?"

Michael was following Monk down the stairs, "No profit in it, they get ripped off too often. I might have a few personal copies of this and that tucked away in my closet."

Monk nodded, "Yes, the Aug 98' copy of…"

Michael could feel a blush starting, "Did you look in my closet? You know everything that's in there?"

Monk nodded, "It needed cleaning up. I never saw that movie Trick. It looked good, you could bring it Sunday. But I haven't been able to sit through a whole movie yet."

"I'll bring it maybe we can watch it in parts."

Monk was about to answer when Sharona' voice called from the door, "Monk, you ready? Do you need help? I'm double parked here!"

Monk started moving faster, Michael caught up with him and whispered in his ear, "Sunday, around 6."

Monk nodded and glanced back and grinned, the tickle of Michael breath vibrating through him. Monk had just experienced the first stirring of his genitals since his waking up fourteen weeks ago. A gentle reminder that he was still a man. His grin widened into a smile.

(5)

Monk didn't want to go. He had better things to do. He dawdled as long as possible. Sharona was getting impatient. She hated to be under time pressure. If he timed it right, she would not be able to get to Dr. Kroger's office in time for his appointment.

Dr. Kroger was a firm believer in punctuality. Monk wanted to be told to go home and come back for his next appointment. Sharona would not be pleased. So what!, Monk thought rebelliously. He heard her thumping up the stairs and raced to his bathroom and closed and locked the door.

"Monk! Come on, we're going to be late! You'll get me in trouble with Dr. Kroger!"

Monk tripped the toilet and turned on the water in the sink. He took as much time as possible. Finally, having no more alternatives, he unlocked the door and ambled through.

"I'm ready."

Sharona sniffed and turned on her heel.

*******************************

Dr. Sam Kroger was not a patient man and Adrian Monk was not the kind of client he should probably have. Thank God, he only had one compulsive. They were tiring to be around.

They usually were way too smart and way too childish. Monk had dreams about reentering the police department. Probably would never happen. Compulsives never really got well, they just got better. It was all a relative standard.

Sharona had called, Monk was showing his first rebellious attitude which was good. His sneaky little performance was not going to benefit him, not today. There were too many issues, Brian O'Malley's death for one.

Sharona had said he did well at the wake. This was very hopeful. If Adrian Monk had a purpose, he could deal with outings. Sharona had really surprised him when she told him about the successful outing at Michael O'Malley's bookstore. This was more than Kroger would have thought possible at this time. He was eager to hear Monk, but it was apparent that Monk was less than enthusiastic to share.

Fifteen minutes later, Monk shuffled in. He sat in the `guest chair' and lowered his head. Kroger sighed, here was the preverbal brick wall. Ah, it was going to be a long session.

******************************

Michael had just settled in for his second cup of coffee and a glance through the newspaper when he heard banging on the front door. Shit. It was only 8:45 am, couldn't the idiot read the sign? Store hours 10 am to 9 PM. All of Old Town was on the same schedule. Michael thought about ignoring it but the pounding didn't let up.

Finally, Michael threw his newspaper down in frustration and headed downstairs. When he saw who was at the door, he groaned. He wished he had been right about his assessment that none of his family would find their way to his store.

One of his older brothers, Matthew, was at the door. Matthew saw him heading toward the door and gave him a scowl of impatience. Michael opened the door and let Matthew in. Michael closed and locked the door and without a word headed to the back of the store and up the stairs. If Matthew wanted to talk he could come up to his studio so he could finish his coffee.

Matthew hesitatingly entered the small studio and looked around. Michael clenched his jaw and then relaxed, "What the hell did you expect? Dildos hanging from the ceiling?"

Matthew didn't answer. He walked over to the table where Michael was sitting and sat in the other chair. He didn't ask for coffee and Michael didn't offer.

"It's about Brian's will. It will be read Thursday at three PM." Matthew withdrew a business card from his pocket and tossed it on the table. You're listed on the will, so is that mental case, Adrian Monk.

I think he left you the house. If he did, Mary Jo and I want it. We'll pay you what Brian paid for it. Now that the kids are gone, we'd like a little three bedroom. It's a good location.

Matthew was almost sixteen years older than Michael and he realized he really didn't know this person and really didn't want to. He also knew that Brian had left the house to Adrian. Brian had said that Monk needed to get out of the house he had shared with his wife. He was even thinking of `trading' because Monk's finances were meager. Insurance paid the house payments and disability paid expenses, but there wasn't a lot of fluid cash.

Michael shook his head. "I don't know that Brian left the house to me, but if he did, I'm not selling."

Brian thought of his geraniums. Thought of all the little projects that Brian had enjoyed doing around the place. That house had little touches of Brian all over.

"What the fuck do you need that house for? Don't you think you can take advantage of me because you happen to be my brother. Don't think I'll tolerate you jacking up the price."

Michael got up to rinse out his mug, his coffee had gone cold. "I don't think Brian left it to me, but if he did, I will not sell,
period."

"Bullshit! Don't think about moving there and don't think about renting it to any of your faggot friends. The neighborhood will toss you on your faggot ass."

Michael tensed, "Matthew, the people on that block got along fine with Brian. If you can't clean up your language and stop insulting me in my own home then leave."

"You call this a `home'? This hole? You've got nothing Mickey, you're just too dumb to know it. I've got money and I can stick a few lawyers on you until you see reason."

"Try it Matty! I can stick a few lawyers on you and for free. The Gay Lawyer's Association would love to sharpen their claws on you. They don't like you, Matty. You're a breeder. They won't let you irritate a gay boy for the fun of it. You got a big head Matty for a man who married his money instead of earning it. Mary Jo can find another house."

"You bastard, how the fuck do you think you're talking to? Don't think that after eight years you're going to waltz back into this family like you belong here."

"Oh, shut up Matty. I haven't belonged since I came out in high school. Leave, or do I have to get some of my leather buddies to take you out in pieces?"

Matthew got up and marched to the door. "Go to hell."

Michael stood still for a few minutes after Matthew left. He hated confrontations. He hated the nastiness. He brushed off the tears that were streaming down his cheeks and went to the bathroom to wash. He'd pop next door for a huge muffin. Double chocolate with coconut. Good old-fashioned comfort food. That thought brought his mind to Monk and that brought a grin.

*****************************

Dr. Kroger had capitulated. Monk had been a mute statue, even when Kroger had threatened to give a friendly call to Captain Stottlemeyer to inform him of Monk's progress.

That had been Kroger's big gun. Monk's only goal had been to get better so he could be reinstated in the Police Dept. Evidently, he was not going to be swayed by Kroger's blackmail, that was a positive sign, but frustrating.

But the session had been fine. It had even been profitable. Monk had started talking when Kroger had finally shut up and said to talk about anything he wanted to. Monk had talked about Brian. About the time they spent together during the three months that Monk had been `back'. Monk had talked about the wake and a new friend, Brian's cousin, Michael.

Monk had hardly taken a breath, his speech had flowed in a way that Kroger had never heard before.

Kroger was a police psychologist and had just transferred into the precinct seven months back. He had never known Monk before. Even though he had done a lot of interviews with officers, friends and family that had known him, it was hard to get a picture of him. He had been a wee bit strange even before the `accident'.

This was the first time Monk had been taken out of his strange little world and was flying on his own words. He was eloquently grieving for his friend. For the first time Kroger saw a glimmer of hope in the future.

**********************************

Thursday afternoon was rainy. Monk was uncomfortable in the rain. He didn't like getting hit with the unpredictable raindrops. Not even an umbrella helped, the rain was coming at an angle. His arm was soaked. He had to touch the parking meters, one by one. Good grief! They were still two blocks from the lawyer's building. He should have let
Sharona drop him off like she wanted to, but no. He was getting sick of being treated like an infant, but he had been stupid to insist on getting rained on. Thirty-eight…Thirty nine…Forty…Forty-one…

They finally arrived at the front of the building that held the offices of Currey and Colman. Monk looked up at the twenty-story building. He didn't like heights. He quickly looked down.

"Oh, it's not so bad, especially if you go up in an elevator." said a familiar voice. Monk turned and smiled, "Hi Michael, I thought I would see you here. I don't like elevators either."

Michael laughed, "Good mood, are we. Well, you won't have to ride one. Donald Coleman is on the second floor, just up the stairs. Brian said he was a `neat' and `righteous' guy."

Monk looked over at Sharona who had found another lady to talk to inside the door, trusting that Monk would follow in from under the awning.

"I should have let Sharona drop me off at the door. I don't like getting rained on."

Michael clicked his tongue. "Now that we've learned our wisdom for the day, shall we go in?"

Monk nodded and started for the door, Michael reached across and opened it. Monk looked at Michael questionly, "Just saving an innocent napkin or whatever, you don't have your latex gloves on."

Monk grinned, "I'm sure the napkin is grateful, as well as the tree or whatever it came from. Of course, you've hindered the pace of capitalism and consumerism with your conservative efforts."

Michael chuckled, "One can't be popular with everyone. Oh, just a word of warning. If a nasty piece of business approaches you, who looks a tad like me, older, lots older and big…the nasty bit is most likely my brother Matthew. He's a bit rude and thinks it makes him forceful. Just ignore him or be nasty right back at him.

He came yesterday morning, long before opening, making all sorts of demands and using a potty mouth to insult me. It was unpleasant. He threatened lawyers, I threatened the Gay Lawyer Association. Not a enjoyable scene. I hate it when other people can bring out the mean and petty person lurking inside."

Monk had listened intently and had heard Michael's pain. He pulled Michael's sleeve to stop his stride down the hall. Monk turned to him and waited until Michael looked at him. As soon as Michael made eye contact, he looked away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dumped that on you."

Monk tugged on his sleeve again, "Michael…" Monk waited again until Michael made eye contact and then said in a soft voice, "Michael, there is nothing mean or petty about you. You're one of the nicest people I have ever met. Brian loved you, he knew what a marvelous person you are. He wouldn't waste his time on a mean and petty person."

Michael leaned backed into the wall and looked up, Brian, damn. Michael looked back down and grinned at Monk, "I guess this means you think you're marvelous too."

Monk grinned and nodded, "Now, you're catching on. Let's go before Sharona comes back with a lasso."

(6)

Monk stood up, he could no longer listen. He had started sweating and was finding it increasingly hard to breathe. The room was too crowded and things were too chaotic. He mumbled `Excuse me.' and stumbled to the door. Sharona was right behind him. He found a bench in the corridor and sat down and then leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes and started his breathing exercises.

Donald Coleman stopped when Adrian Monk made his exit. He knew that there might be a problem. Brian O'Malley had discussed Adrian Monk when he had rewritten his will three months ago, when Adrian Monk had rejoined the living.

Up until that time Brian had left a trust for Monk, but three months ago he had decided to leave him his house and a trust to pay it off, plus taxes for the next ten years. He had left Michael O'Malley as the trustee.

Adrian Monk was not a blood relative and the will might be broken so he had suggested that Brian ask Monk if he could have Adrian Monk's Power of Attorney. Monk had not known why Brian had asked, but quickly gave permission.

Adrian Monk had no money. He rented his house and didn't own a car. The ploy of having Brain as Power of Attorney was to make the inheritance unbreakable. It would help if Michael O'Malley could step in and take over. He intended to speak to him today.

Matthew O'Malley didn't look happy and if there was one O'Malley who would cause trouble if he could, it would be him. Coleman got up, excusing himself and headed towards the door.

When he opened the reception room, he saw Monk sitting on the bench across the way in rather a stiff fashion with his eyes closed.

He approached Sharona, "Is he OK?"

Sharona nodded and crossed her arms in front of her. "He's fine. This is how he copes with places that upset him. There were too many people in there and too much clutter. Is it OK if he stays out here? He knows Brian O'Malley left him the house."

Donald Coleman looked over at Monk, and then back at Sharona, "Here, this is like a little walkie-talkie. I'm going to start again in five minutes. Turn it on and you can witness that he heard the full proceedings. Don't go afterward. I'd like to talk to Michael O'Malley and Mr. Monk afterwards for a minute."

Sharona nodded, "OK, and thanks Mr. Coleman."

Donald Coleman braced himself then returned to finish reading the will. Brian O'Malley was not a rich man and had left small gifts for his nieces and nephews and a few charities, but had left the O'Malley's to fend for themselves, except for Michael and Monk.

Matthew O'Malley was glowering and the rest of the O'Malley had impatient expressions.

"Sorry for the interruption. Let me continue."

The next bombshell was that while Adrian Monk got the house, Michael O'Malley got the house's contents and the portable plants.

Michael smiled; Brian had left him the geraniums.

When the last of the will was read and Matthew had been left with nothing, He angrily asked why he had been asked to come. Coleman explained to him and the rest of the adults that each of them had minor children who had been given a trust and that each parent was a trustee. Papers had to be signed. Those nephews and nieces who were of legal age could sign for themselves.

Matthew shifted in his seat angrily, a few hundred dollars had hardly been enough to miss work for.

********************

Matthew exited the office quickly. When saw Monk on the bench he quickly walked over and pushed Monk on the shoulder to wake him up. Sharona ran over and told Matthew O'Malley not to touch Monk. Matthew O'Malley turned to her and told her to shut up.

Adrian had been startled and a painful spike of panic shot through him when he had been shoved. He had flown to his feet and became aware of a large man shouting at Sharona. Dormant police training came to the forefront and Monk had the man face down on the ground in a flash. He was strangling the man and had looked pleadingly at Sharona as she produced a few anti-bacterial wipes.

Michael thought he had never seen anything so funny in his whole life. There was Monk, a modestly sized man, sitting on a huge man and frantically wiping his hands with cloths while wearing a grimace of distaste. Matthew had always been the bully of the family and it was so satisfying to see him like this.

Matthew was occasionally trying to get up, but Monk absently dug his heel into Matthew's side and that seemed to stop him quite effectively. Soon two policemen appeared and requested that Monk remove himself from Matthew's back. He got up and quietly made his way back to the bench where he had been sitting.

Matthew O'Malley was screaming for Adrian Monk's arrest for assault and Sharona was matching him scream for scream. Various O'Malleys were standing about and adding a comment here or there. Matthew's wife stood by silently, seemingly uninterested. Michael came and sat by Monk.

After about ten minutes, Captain Stottemeyer appeared on the scene. He had a quick conference with the two responding policemen. Did a quick interview with Sharona and Donald Coleman and then walked over to Monk.

Captain Stottemeyer sighed, it hurt to see one of his men brought to this, but it was a big improvement from the zombie he was a few months back. The man was a bent genius with an eidetic memory which gave him a very peculiar way of looking at things and reasoning them out. He had been brilliant and strange before the tragedy, and now it seemed that that brilliance was honed sharper, but with aggravating codicils. If the man cleaned off his desk one more time?!

Stottemeyer shook his head, no one but Monk could have unraveled the Stonewill murder. The complexities were mind boggling. He respected this man and he liked him, but he couldn't go around jumping people.

"Monk? Come on Monk, it's me."

Monk looked up with a bit of irritation in his face, "I know it's you. Why are you here?"

Stottelmeyer looked away to find a bit of patience, he didn't find it. "I just thought I'd try to keep your ass from getting arrested. Never know when I might need you as a consultant again."

Monk grinned and looked down, "Sorry, I thought he might hurt Sharona. She was just watching out for me. He shoved my shoulder when my eyes were shut while I was sitting here. I panicked. Sharona was only trying to get him to move away and not touch me again. He started shouting at her and I reacted."

Stottlemeyer nodded, "Sounds like the asshole could use a few manners. I'll go scare him a bit and then calm him down. Just try to be careful, Monk."

Monk looked up and grinned, "Thank you, Captain."

Monk looked down again, "I want to go."

Michael spoke softly, "Monk, Mr. Coleman wants to see the both of us for a minute. Maybe he wants us to sign papers or something. He said we could just meet him in the reception room. It will just be for a minute."

**************************

It was apparent that Coleman had cleared the reception room up a bit and the receptionist was holed up in his office. Monk and Michael sat and waited for Coleman to start.

"Mr. Monk, as you remember, Brian asked to have your Power of Attorney a few weeks after you…uh…woke up." Monk nodded his head.

"Well, Brian wanted me to request that you allow Michael to take his place in the event that something happened to him. I have the papers. This is not a matter of competence. You are on disability and so no one would question this, but the real reason is to put a layer of protection for the inheritance since you are not a blood relative.

If any one wants to try to break the will, it would be directed at Michael, which would be thrown out."

Monk smiled, "That was very clever Mr. Coleman."

Coleman smiled at the compliment and turned towards Michael, "Are you willing, Michael?"

Michael nodded his head, "Of course."

Coleman pulled out the papers to sign, "I'll be glad to keep you both as clients. I doubt if anything will come of the fussing Matthew O'Malley was making once he talks to his own lawyer."

Michael put the pen down, "He seemed quite determined to get a hold of Brain's house. He said he wanted a smaller one since his last child is headed off to college next year."

Coleman shook his head, "Na, I don't think so. Probably wanted to sell it. Look, it's only a five minute drive to the Castro. Much too close for the likes of him."

Monk interjected, "I don't think he knows how close it is. Just that Brian had made it nice and he wants it, or at least his wife did, but not after today."

Michael turned towards Monk, "So when are you moving in?"

Monk looked down, "I don't know, the lease is valid for another seven months. I don't have any furniture. It all goes with the house."

Michael spoke very softly, "I'm leaving the furniture in the house. Brian made most of it. I'm leaving the flowers. Somebody needs to be living in that house. It's closer to your doctors and closer to that police station of yours.

If I can find a friend to sub-let the place will you move?"

Monk looked at him, "I don't think I can handle the disruption. I, I…"

Michael looked directly into Monk's eyes, trying to reassure him, "It can be done in just one morning. You have no furniture to move. I'll put it all away in Brian's house and then you can spend the rest of the day putting it to rights. I'll close the shop and let you give me orders on where to put things. I'll bring the gloves."

Monk smiled, "OK"

Coleman gently interrupted, "Uh, did I forget to mention that Brian wanted Mr. Monk to move in as soon as possible in case of his death? Wanted Mr. Monk to maintain the place with care as he knew he would and not let the plants die. He arranged the estate to pay the rent on Mr. Monk's house until it could be sub-let or the lease runs out."

"Where does the money come from?"

"The grant to the ASPCA. It's paid only after Mr. Monk is permanently in the house and free of obligations of his rented house. The amount of the grant is equal to eleven months rent and estimated utilities costs."

Michael smiled and leaned close to Monk, "Why don't we change that dinner into a moving party?"

Monk nodded his head, liking the idea of living in the home that Brian had made. Monk closed his eyes and pictured the simplicity that had marked Brian's home. It was a place where he could feel comfortable. Thank you, Brian.

(7)

Sharona sighed as she stood up to finish packing the kitchen things. Change was hard for anybody, but for Monk, it was traumatic. He was currently in bed, sedated. He had tried to pack the kitchen things into box to give to Good Will and had started shaking, soon he was moaning and incoherent.

It had been frightening, Sharona, even with her nurse's training, had forgotten how really ill Monk was. She had thought that it was possible that he would slide back into a catatonic state. Until today she had not considered that risk. She had called Dr. Kroger and he had told her to sedate him. The doctor would come over after Monk woke up.

She had also called Michael, who had been upset and wanted to close the store and rush over. Sharona had calmed him down and told him she would call when he was awake. She had also called Leland Stottenmeyer.

Monk's old boss was very supportive when Monk needed help. She had called because she couldn't handle the move alone. Michael was preparing Brian's house, taking care of and clearing out all the private papers, clothes, and personal items, to make it ready for Monk.

The rented house was furnished, so all Monk had to move was clothes, linens, his music, his books, his special supplies. Everything was very portable. He had decided to give away his kitchen stuff and use Brian's.

Seeing his things in boxes rather than their designated places finally became too much for him. It was hard, but Sharona really thought the move would be good. The idea that he had been renting the house that he'd lived in with his wife had been a mistake.

Dr. Kroger had thought the familiarity of his own place would be comforting and healing. Sharona didn't think that it had that effect. It was all too obvious that it brought back too many memories. The change would be good, plus he would own Brian’s place.

A knock on the door brought Sharona back to the present. She shook her head, fluffing her hair and headed to the door. It was Leland.

Sharona opened the door, "Aren't you on duty?"

Stottlemeyer smiled, "Yeah, but I can go where I want to. I'm the boss. I just have to be beepable. How is he? What can I do?"

"He's sleeping. He won't be up for another two or three hours. All these boxes were too much for him. I'd like these cleared out and taken to Brian's and those over there to Good Will.

Dr. Kroger's coming when he wakes up. After the doctor sees him, I'd like to take him over to Brian's and let him start organizing. I think he'll be OK with that."

Leland scanned the boxes. Not a whole hell of a lot. Maybe two trips in his unmarked car. Leland felt a kind of sadness; it would be good for Monk to get out of this house. This had been Monk and Trudy Ann's first house and they had lost it and all their savings because Trudy Ann had written an article calling a local millionaire, the Genghis Khan of finance and for that the bastard made it his personal hobby to make life miserable for them.

Leland had to stand by and helplessly watch. There was nothing he could do except watch the strain and pain that one man caused this couple. Yes, best to get out of here. When Dr. Kroger had made arrangements to rent the place, he hadn't known about Gayle the Whale and what the man had done to Monk and his wife. Gayle had probably laughed himself silly. He owned the house; he was the one collecting the rent.

Monk had been surprisingly unconcerned. Gayle couldn't touch his wife anymore and Monk, for the first couple of months, had been so disconnected that Gayle couldn't bother him. But Monk was getting better and much more aware. A very good time to get him out of here. Leland started to load boxes.

************************

Michael closed the cash register. Business had been good so far today. He turned to a customer who wanted to sale some books and started looking through them. Monk would be great at this. Monk was able to keep the entire stock in his head. He knew when there were gaps in popular series, knew what was selling and what wasn't. Michael just looked to see if the books were in selling condition.

He could keep track of his Star Trek books. It was always glut or famine with those. Sometime he had them coming out of his ears and refused to buy more. His approach was pretty haphazard.

He gratefully consulted the list he had made when Monk had spent the day helping him in the store.

He was concerned about Monk, but Sharona had convinced him that there was nothing he could do. She had told him that Monk's old boss was clearing all the boxes out and deposited all of Monk's stuff at Brian's. She said Monk would be ready to take possession of the house after Dr. Kroger cleared him.

Michael planned to go over to Brian's to see Monk after he closed the store. He decided he'd close at the regular time so Monk wouldn't feel stifled. He was glad about the move, they both loved Brian and this was a small way to keep him in their lives. He had been happy that Donald Coleman had been able to rush probate and get special dispensations to let Monk move so quickly.

Michael smiled at the customer as she left and turned to his wall clock to check the time. It was crawling by. For maybe the thousandth time, Michael asked himself what he thought he was doing? Incredible to think Brian's wake was only one week ago. In that week, Monk had become implausibly important to him.

He thought of the time he had spent with Monk and became conscious that he hadn't enjoyed someone's company so much in a long time. They had so much to say to each other. Tuesday had flown by.

Monk was no handsome buff boy, but Michael acknowledged he was powerfully drawn to him. Michael grimaced. Was he allowing himself to be drawn close because he and Monk had little chance of actually landing in bed? Did he really want it to go that way?

Michael closed his eyes; it had been so long since he had been touched. Yes, if Monk reached out to him, if Monk was able, he would take him as a lover, gladly.

Michael thought back to Paul. God, how he had loved that man, and he had finally come through the pain of the break up to understand that Paul had loved him, but not enough. Paul could not love the man he had become.

Monk understood him. Brian had shared his problems with Monk and because of that knowledge, Monk was gentle and careful with him. Last Tuesday he'd actually been able to comfort him, not with common platitudes, but with empathy. Monk understood, because Monk struggled too.

What a pair. Monk seemed attracted and ready for at least friendship with some flirtation mixed in. It was nice. Best to let time take them where it would. Michael glanced up at the clock again. Damn.

***************************

Monk woke up crying. He had no idea why he was crying, but his throat was raw and his eyes were gritty. He concentrated on his breathing exercises. Eventually, he sat up and went to the bathroom. It didn't look right, shit! He was starting to get anxious but then he saw that there was everything he needed, but all the extras were packed away in boxes. Boxes! Now he remembered, shit. This was just too hard.

He finished and came back into the bedroom and sat on the bed. It didn't have sheets, just a couple of blankets and a pillow. He didn't want to go to the front room and see all the boxes.

The door opened and Sharona came in and sat on the bed and started talking, very softly for her. He couldn't tune in at first and interrupted to ask her to repeat herself. She didn't exhibit her usual frustration at his spaced out moments and just started over.

"Dr. Kroger is on the way, just wants to check you out. Leland came over and took care of all the boxes. After Dr. Kroger clears you, all we have to do is walk out. All the stuff is over at Brian's. Michael has gotten it all ready for you. He said he'd be over after he closes the store. He said he's bring Fritos and beer."

Monk smiled, leave it to Michael to know exactly what to do. He was glad Michael hadn't seen him in such a state that it was necessary to sedate him.

"You packed my scrabble game!?"

Sharona, a bit off balance by the non sequitur, just nodded.

That was enough for Monk, "Good."

************************

Dr. Kroger had cleared him and accompanied Sharona and Monk to his new home. It was a good house for Monk, simply furnished with wide-open spaces. He sat watching Monk empty the boxes until he was satisfied that Monk was able to do this without any strain. Monk actually seemed to enjoy it.

Monk had actually grinned when he retrieved his scrabble board and the tiles and placed them carefully on the coffee table. Kroger figured it was safe to go.

Sharona decided that she would wait until Michael arrived. Monk was happily organizing his world and Sharona leaned back in a recliner and enjoyed a bit of peace.

(8)

Michael arrived with a grocery sack of Fritos, a six pack of beer and a big smile. Sharona gratefully gathered her bag and waved good-by and was gone.

Monk had dressed in his brown suit, without a tie or the hushpuppies. He wore socks and crocheted house slippers. The crocheted house slippers were a mixture of colors that were created for him by Leland's nine year old daughter, Peggy.

Leland was a widower, too. He had lost his wife to breast cancer six years ago. It had been during this time when their friendship had been forged.

Two weeks after Monk had woke up, Leland had brought Peggy to see him. It was disconcerting to see this young girl he had last seen graduating kindergarten.

Leland and she had made a little photograph book that had pictures of her during the missing years, along with her cat, Fluffy, and her parakeets, Blackjack and Angel. Monk had smiled at the names, knowing Leland had named one in some desperate male attempt to save himself from a household of 'cute' pet names.

Leland had evidently instructed her to make him Christmas cards and birthday cards during the years he had been lost. Monk had been overwhelmed by Leland's thoughtfulness and his faith that Monk would return to the living. The scrapbook also contained various artwork and craftwork she had done over the years.

He hung her pictures in frames like they were great works of art. To him, they were. He had her misshapen pottery attempts proudly displayed on the mantel and her crocheted slippers on his feet. He smiled happily at Michael.

Michael grinned at the slippers, "There's a story to tell about those, no doubt."

Monk nodded, "Yes, you'll like it."

Michael smiled and they both made their way out to the kitchen. Michael let Monk fuss with the snacks and looked around. Monk had not changed much. It was a bit strange to say the least, but Michael felt a peace. This was what Brian had wanted, Monk seemed at home here.

Monk finished and smiled at Michael. "Did you bring the movie? We could watch now or after we play scrabble."

Michael headed for the front room, "Yeah, I brought the movie but let's play scrabble first."

They settled down to play. They were both very competitive and laughed a lot. Monk enjoyed scrabble because it was one game he could not control. His memory was perfect for pictures or what he saw around him, which he remembered in minute detail, almost perfect in remembering heard language, but for some reason, he was only a good speller, but not a perfect one.

Monk had won, but only by a few points. They picked up the game and went into the kitchen to gather up some more snacks and get some more beer.

Michael came and stood close to Monk, "I would love to cuddle with you while we watch the movie, any chance of that happening?"

Monk stood and looked at Michael, well it was time to fish or cut bait, empty flirting could only go on for so long, but could he do this? He was gratified that the suggestion had not caused him to panic. Monk nodded numbly, "I think so."

Michael grinned, "We'll figure it out."

Monk and Michael wandered into the front room and switched on the TV and then Michael switched it off again and sat beside Monk. Monk looked at him expectantly. Michael was looking away, at the mantle, at the floor, at the ceiling, finally he turned and looked at Monk.

"Adrian, I'm realizing that I care for you a lot and I need guidelines. You're important to me and I don't want to ruin our…
whatever we're starting… pushing you too hard or by doing something dumb. I want to hold you, touch you, even kiss you. Will that ever be possible? Is it even what you want?"

Adrian looked into Michael's eyes and knew he wanted to be with him. They had hit it off from the beginning. They already understood some important things about each other. They enjoyed each other. It would be good, but Monk honestly didn't know how much he could handle.

"Michael, I want what you want, I just don't know my own…my own limits. You have to promise me that if we do something and I freak, you just call Dr. Kroger and please don't take it personally. I like being with you. I…I wish…"

Michael smiled and gently pulled down Monk's jacket sleeve and covered Monk's hand before he held it.

"Shush, we'll go inch by inch and if you lose it, we'll just call it a small set back. I'm falling in love with you. I think about you all the time. I like working with you. Do you know how much help you've been already."

"Are you going to buy more of those smocks?"

"You bet ya. They are so cute!"

At Monk's slightly horrified look, Michael laughed. Monk broke into a grin. It was a very good to see and hear Michael laugh.

"Now that we are officially, what? A couple? How about the movie?"

Michael stood up and switched the TV on and slid in the movie.

"First order of business is to figure out how we're going to cuddle. Would you be all right with getting your PJ's on? It would be nicer cuddling cotton than, well, whatever that jacket is made of."

Monk stood up and nodded, "Yes, I can do that. I get upset if my little routines are messed up, but this is a new one. Movies, snacks and you, with my PJ's on. Yes, I can do it. Uh, I have another pair of PJ's. How about both of us in PJ's."

Michael laughed, "You're certainly inventive. Sounds great!"

Soon they were both standing somewhat awkwardly in matching PJ's. Both blue, both plain, and each with wildly colorful crocheted booties.

Michael looked down at his feet. "How many pairs of these do you have?"

"Four pairs. When Peggy made these she didn't know how to make anything else yet. Now she's making pot holders and she said she was working on an afghan for me."

"Who’s Peggy?"

"Leland's nine year old daughter."

"Oh, she does fine work for such a little one."

"Yeah, let's sit down and start the movie."

"How do we do this, Adrian?"

Monk walked up to Michael and stood close to him. Michael was slightly taller so Monk tilted his head up and looked into Michael's apprehensive eyes.

"We sit down and you wrap an arm around me somewhere, I wrap an arm around you and we get comfortable. I decided that you are going to be my own personal human bit of nature."

Michael had been following fine until Monk drifted off into the ozone with…."I'm going to be your own personal bit of what?"

Monk looked away, trying to find the words to express himself. Michael waited him out. Finally, Monk looked back into Michael's eyes.

"For some reason, the chaos of nature has never bothered me. Trees, flowers and rivers, all wild and unkempt, chaotic and untended. These are beautiful. But if I see a shrub that is uneven, when it has apparently been shaped regularly, I get agitated.

I have decided to put you with the trees and the flowers, a beautiful creation that is not controlled by human hands. My beautiful geranium in human form, if you will. The exception to all my rules. It may take some time, but I want to hold you, to touch you, make love with you. Touch your lips to mine, just your lips, I want to feel them."

Michael was staggered at his strong reaction to Monk's words, what courage it must have taken Monk to say them. He shakily pulled a sleeve of his PJ's over his hand and placed it at the back of Adrian's neck to steady him and then slowly lowered his head in position and gently, very gently pressed his lips against Adrian's.

It wasn't really a kiss, just contact, but it was electrifying. It was also reassuring. They would be OK.

They finally parted and grinned at each other and moved to the couch. They repositioned themselves several times and finally found a position that was comfortable.

Michael was laying on his side with his back to the sofa upright back and his head lying against the slanted armrest. Adrian was laying, wedged in front of him, resting his head on Michael's outstretched arm. No skin was touching, but the cotton barriers were thin and they periodically wiggled against each other, testing the waters.

The movie was fun, but before it ended, Adrian drifted off to sleep with Michael soft snores in his ears and his arms wrapped around him. Adrian forgot all his nightly routines and slept.

*

Monk woke up abruptly as he was pushed to the floor. He jumped up in panic, somebody was screaming. He turned around, bumping into the end table and started to pant as he tried to figure out where the danger was coming from.

Unexpectedly someone thrashing on the couch kicked him. Suddenly, he remembered, Michael!

Monk rushed to Michael and attempted to hold his arms so he wouldn't hurt himself. Michael was strong and Monk had to crawl on top of him to try to still him.

"Michael, Michael, wake up! You're Ok, you're ok. Wake up. Wake up. Come on, Michael, wake up."

After the initial spurt of adrenalin, Monk kept his voice low and calm. Michael was moving beneath Monk and part of Monk's mind marveled that he was getting hard.

Finally Michael stopped moving and started to mutter, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. God, I am so sorry." Michael's voice was collapsing into a sob. Monk held him tighter and started wiggling against him.

Monk wasn't thinking, his only goal was to help Michael, to make Michael feel better. His moves were instinctual and when Michael started to respond Monk didn't hesitate to reach down and pull their hips tighter together and move.

Michael had just been swept away. To go from the high emotion of the nightmare to this was incredible. He could hardly believe this was happening. Michael was beyond rational thought by the time Monk pulled him closer.

Without thought he reached down and pulled his pajama bottom waist band out to the side pulling the crotch snaps apart, liberating his straining penis. He then reached and did the same thing to Monk.

At the first feel of flesh against flesh, both men increased their rhythm and Monk bent down and started to bite Michael on his shoulder through his pajamas. Michael arched up groaning in pleasure.

Both were making lots of noise as they grew closer to orgasm. Monk became more frantic and his rhythm became erratic and he came with a roar that erupted from the depths of his being. Michael came just seconds later.

Monk was still laying on top of Michael and both quietly held on to each other, breathing hard. Neither one could quite believe what they had done.

Monk felt incredible, empty and relaxed, more relaxed then he had felt in God knows how long. Michael's words seemed to come from a distance, "Adrian, are you OK?"

Monk was ready to talk or move yet, all he could generate was a "MMMMMMMMMMM". Michael chest rose and fell with his chuckles.

Michael was amazed, he was sure that they had both thought that getting to this point would take forever, if ever they even got there. It felt so good.

After a few minutes, Monk struggled to stand up. Michael was not ready to release him, but understood that Monk was starting to get agitated.

"I need to wash. I need to wash now."

Monk stood up and was shifting his weight from foot to foot and starting to babble. He was getting confused.

Damn, Michael thought. What do I do? Michael jumped up and interrupted Monk's repetitive mumbling. "Adrian, it's just flower nectar, remember. Just nectar from me, your human geranium."

Monk started to repeat what Michael said as Michael lead them to the bathroom. Finally, in the bathroom, Michael started running the water in the big two person bathtub. More than a bathtub, it was shaped like a triangle and had jets.

Michael poured a bit of bath bubbles in and turned around and undressed Monk like a child. Doffing the last bootie by Peggy, Michael directed and eased Monk into the tub. He quickly shed his own clothes and stepped in.

Monk had calmed down and was now just leaning back, resting against the head rest. The water was comfortably warm and Michael put the jets on low. He looked around and grabbed a wash cloth that was encased in a baggie and put it on the tub edge.

"Adrian, are you OK? Are you with me?"

Monk grinned without opening his eyes, "That was incredible. That was wonderful. Sorry, I just started to.doesn't matter. I'm fine. You are wonderful."

Michael smiled, "You're pretty wonderful, yourself. Who would lay odds that you would jump my bones first? Do you realize, Adrian, that we touched? No latex in sight. It was just you and me. That is mind blowing."

Adrian opened his eyes, "I wasn't thinking about any of that. Making love to you seems to override a lot of my shit. As much as I love your mind, that`s not the only part of you I want to blow. I think if we`re turned on enough, I`m not going to care if there`s latex or not."

"I like being a human geranium, there's lots of bennies."

Monk smiled and then sobered, "The nightmares, are they always this bad?"

Michael's grin faded, "Yeah, and I have them three, four, sometimes six days a week. I've never had them for seven days straight. I don't remember them. They just disrupt my sleep and I usually feel kind of icky afterwards until I shower, have a cup of coffee and open a book."

Michael's grin found it's way back to his face, "This morning, I skipped the icky part. I've been to doctors and I don't think they're going away. Are these going to be a problem?"

Monk smiled widely, " No, Brian told me about them. Just like me, we'll deal with them. We're going to be OK, Michael. This is going to work."

Michael looked down and played with a handful of bubbles, "After about six months, Paul couldn't deal with them. He didn't understand why they weren't getting better. He figured that his love should cure me if I would let it. He started blaming me for being unreceptive to his love and care. He didn't understand that I couldn't control any of it. The pressure he put on me just made it worse. I loved him, but our love couldn't fix it. He wanted everything the way it was before the bank. He didn't understand that I could never be the same again. He considered my anxieties and the nightmares as a failure of our love. He just couldn't understand."

Monk's heart broke as he listened to Michael, "Do you still love him?"

Michael looked up, "Yes, part of me will always love him and what we once had. It feels like a death of a sort. Since the day he left, I knew that the man he loved no longer existed. Adrian, I'm ready to love again, ready to build a life.

There are not many people I feel safe with, I not only felt safe with you, I have fun with you, I like you and I'm falling in love with you, if I'm not there all ready. God, we are a fucked up pair, but we are a pair. We can understand each other and be each other's exceptions. I liked that, when you said I'd be the exception to all your rules."

Monk sat up straight and leaned forward, "Come here, let's do our version of a kiss. It's the kiss that will take the longest with me, we need to practice."

Michael laughed and sat up, he raised his hand to Monk's mouth and, with his wet forefinger traced Monk's lower lip. "Is this OK?"

Monk nodded his head. Michael leaned closer and whispered, "OK, close your eyes, Monkey."

Monk couldn't help but grin as he closed his eyes, he had four lovers, including Michael, in his entire life and they all ended up calling him Monkey. It must be the pheromones that he gave off.

As soon as the thought passed through his mind, he felt the moist tip of a finger, not quite right, God it was the tip of Michael's tongue running across his bottom lip. Monk raised his soapy hands to hold Michael's biceps.

The tongue was removed and Monk opened his eyes and smiled, "Now it's your turn to close your eyes." Monk had no problem copying Michael's lead. Michael was truly his exception to all his rules.

They didn't take it further, but both were comforted and excited that they were making progress in their ability to be with each other.

Just then their peace was shattered when the phone rang loud and insistent. Monk groaned in frustration. He didn't know the exact time, but it was very early, before five am.

Michael ran for the phone and found a very confused Captain Stottlemeyer on the other end of the phone. Michael handed it to Monk when Monk arrived in the front room, clad in another pair of pajamas and another pair of booties by Peggy.

Monk listened and nodded his head, "Yes, I'll call Sharona and we'll be there in forty minutes." Monk hung up the phone.

"Leland has a murder he wants me to consult on. I need to get dressed and call Sharona." Monk had started putting the front room in order and Michael gathered his own clothes to put on.

"That's great, Adrian. Give me a call later on?"

Monk looked up, "Depends on the case, sometimes things happen so fast, there's no time to call. Sometimes, I get so wrapped up in a case, I forget. I'll call you as soon as I'm able, when I solve it or get kicked out of the investigation."

Monk smiled and Michael grinned. Michael knew he was about to be introduced to Monk, the obsessive detective. He couldn't wait.

*

Monk walked around the front room. The room was not right. The mess, the turned over lamp, the chair on it's side made no sense. It felt orchestrated.

One victim, a young man, twenty years old or so. Stabbed numerous times in the bath tub. He was dressed in an effeminate way, not drag, but obviously gay fashion. His bracelets hung limply on a slender wrist and his earrings glittered in the bright bathroom light. He had been beautiful.

Monk wandered around the room one more time. He didn't understand why he was here.

Leland walked up, "What do you think, Adrian?"

Monk looked at Leland and could see the confusion and pain in his face, this was personal then for him.

"Nothing yet. When the techs get out of the bathroom, I need to look at the body closer." Monk held out an arm, indicating the room, "This is fake. The killer just messed this room up to confuse us. If he was careless, we might get a finger print, but I doubt it."

Leland nodded his head, "The techs should be done in just a few minutes."

Monk nodded and wandered away.

*

Monk emerged from the bathroom and wandered around until he spotted Leland. The Captain looked up and stepped aside from the group he was talking with.

"Anything?"

Monk nodded his head and looked directly into Leland's eyes. It was a technique he had learned to help him focus. Leland knew this, but was still a little uncomfortable with it. Leland took a small step back. Adrian sighed.

"The boy was dressed to look like he was gay."

Leland scrunched his eyebrows, "Why do you say that, Adrian?"

"His ears were recently pierced, I would guess post-mortem by the look of them. Have the EM confirm it. His left nipple is also pierced.", when Leland frowned, he quickly added, "I saw it outlined through his T-shirt. I think that was done post-mortem too.

He didn`t take care of his hands. Most gay men who prefer to dress in the fashion he is dressed in are fastidious in their personal hygiene. His hands would have been manicured."

Monk stepped forward and whispered intently, "Find out if he was violated. Someone is framing someone for this murder."

Leland brought a hand to his mouth and started to chew his nail. "I think you're right, Adrian. Do you want to consult?"

Monk looked back in the direction of the bathroom, "Yes. The killer just picked out a handsome young man and killed him to further his own agenda of revenge."

Leland shifted weight on his feet, "Adrian, the man who owns this house is a friend of mine, Larry Makin. He's gay and in his early forties. He occasionally brings young men home with him, but he wouldn't do this."

Monk nodded, distracted, "Why wouldn't the killer just bring a hustler here if he wanted to frame your friend? Did the killer want us to pick up on the fact that the young man was not gay? Who was he? Did Makin know him?

If Makin knew him, it would make the crime look more heinous for Makin to violate him and turn him into what he wanted him to be. Maybe not revenge, maybe it was money. Check out Makin's work, see if anybody would benefit by him being discredited and put away.

Destruction of reputation, maybe it was a combination of biases, someone anti-gay and money, status, whatever or a combination of revenge, money and an anti-gay bias.

It would work best if Makin knew the victim, better still if there was a complaint filed by the victim. He could have been a pasty. Used and then eliminated."

Leland looked up at the ceiling and sighed, "I'll have all this looked into pronto. Larry's at the station being interrogated by Smith and Becker. If an arrest occurs, I have to recluse myself
because of our friendship."

Monk turned around, "Can I go now?"

Leland looked at Monk's back, "Sure, Adrian. Thanks for all the help. I'll call you later."

"Call me at the Treasure Trap. The store closes at nine."

Leland gave Adrian's back a curious stare as Adrian walked away.

Sharona was on the front porch reading a paperback. Monk walked through the door. "Can you drop me off at the Treasure Trap? You can go the house and package stuff. I'm running low on washcloths and socks. I think there's enough baggies. Is that all right with you?"

Sharona looked up, surprised. "Sure, that's great! Gee it's not even 11am."

"If the Captain calls me, I might have to have you pick me up."

Sharona, looking forward to an Adrian free day, quickly said, "That fine, no problem."

*

Treasure Trap

" I usually shut down for an hour in the afternoon, between two and three for lunch. This is OK, we have eaten and cleaned up and we still have thirty-five minutes. I can do this in less time. Now relax! It will be fine."

"OK, OK." Adrian was apprehensive as he shed his pants. He looked over at Michael who Michael smiled, "The top, too. I want you at my mercy! I want to touch everything."

When Adrian was naked, Michael told him to sit on the edge of the bed and spread his legs. Adrian complied and kept his eyes on Michael. Michael held up a pair of latex gloves and a condom. Adrian resolutely shook his head no. Michael knelt before him and looked up and smiled.

"You're very brave, Adrian. Now focus on the feeling, focus on me and remember that I love you."

Adrian looked into Michael's eyes and nodded. Michael put his hands on either side of Adrian's legs and bent down to circle the glands of Adrian's penis head with his tongue. Then he leaned down further and took a mouth full of Adrian's penis and alternated sucking and pumping. Adrian leaned back a bit with his arms bracing him. It was not long until he was moaning.

Michael felt Adrian's semi-erect penis grow in his mouth and added his hands in a pumping motion. He felt Adrian begin to thrust and reached up a hand to fondle a nipple between his fingers.

When Adrian started thrusting in earnest, Michael reached under Adrian and cupped his buttocks with his hands and drew Adrian closer. Finally, Adrian thrust up hard and lost his support and crashed back on the bed with a howl as he came.

Michael held on for dear life and swallowed vigorously and then with gentle care as the over sensitized organ deflated. Adrian was blissed out. Michael took advantage of Adrian's state and washed him carefully with his tongue.

Finally Adrian sat up, "That was incredible. I want to do you."

Michael held up the latex, Adrian batted it away. "No! Not with you!" Adrian leaned down and licked Michael's bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. "Come on, Michael, I want you in my mouth. I want to taste your nectar. Come on Geranium, get rid of those clothes."

Michael felt the heat rising in him as he started to take off his shirt and thought, "God, this man is something else!"

*

Michael took off his clothes and sat on the bed. He never took his eyes off Adrian. Adrian suddenly looked around quickly, "What is it, Adrian?"

"I.I need something to kneel on."

Michael laughed and jumped up and headed for his kitchen area and jerked open a drawer, "How's a trash sack?"

Adrian grinned as his eyes followed Michael's movement. "Perfect. Like you." Adrian's eyes sought Michael's as he turned around. "You're beautiful!"

Michael blushed as he busied himself laying the trash sack on the floor for Adrian to kneel on. Once again sitting on the bed, Adrian gently spread Michael's knees apart while looking into Michael's eyes, "Michael, I love you. Close your eyes and let me show you."

Michael closed his eyes and leaned on his hand and threw back his head, anticipating Adrian's first touch. Even anticipating, it came as a bit of a shock. It was the lightest flick of Adrian's tongue dancing across his glands. He bit his lip, this was just too good!

Adrian's tongue darted here and there His breath teased Michael's penis then his teeth nipped while he licked up and down his lover's length. Michael moaned and begged for more contact. His fisted hands struggled with the temptation to grab Adrian's head and pull it towards him.

Michael started to thrust and Adrian finally enclosed him in his mouth and started to enthusiastically suck. What he couldn't fit in his mouth, his left hand pumped in rhythm with his mouth. Adrian's right touched Michael's chest, exploring for a nipple.

Michael was soaring, his arms lost strength and he flopped back, thrusting his hips. Adrian increased his efforts, encouraged by Michael's moans.

Adrian had become hard with the sound of Michael in his ears and the taste of Michael in his mouth. It was impossible, but he was hurdling towards an orgasm, right along with Michael.

Adrian didn't think twice about swallowing Michael's cum. It was nectar from his germanium. His Michael. God, he couldn't get enough of this man.

With a sob, Michael came and Adrian followed quickly. Adrian gratefully laid his head on Michael's stomach.

Once they could think again, Michael pulled Adrian up to lay beside him. The man was beyond precious. Michael thought that he had never felt so connected with someone in his entire life. He pulled the man a little closer and just held him. It was wonderful.

Adrian was blissed out. He was floating and with the assurance that Michael was anchoring him, he allowed himself to drift. It was a thrill to float on a sexual high and know that Michael was holding him to reality, to know that he was safe. This was real.He was awed that this had happened to him.to them.love.

Adrian snuggled in closer and raised his head so he could whisper into Michael's ear. "I love you. It's amazing, but this seems to be the only activity that I can be.do.normally."

Michael's chest rumbled with laughter, "I am so happy! I love you. There's nothing normal about us, but I am ecstatic we can share this. I am, after all, your own personal geranium."

Adrian disentangled himself and sat up and smiled, "And I love you, but I have to shower." Adrian sat up and jumped off the bed and scurried to the bathroom.

Michael sat up and marveled how they were progressing. They were lovers in the truest sense of the word. He had thought that he would never have a lover again. A sex partner, maybe, but not a lover. Not someone you could share with, someone who, for God's knows why, thought your company was worth having. Someone who actually liked you; loved you.

Michael absently got up and decided against a shower and dressed instead. He and Paul had been lovers, but on some level, Michael had allowed himself to dance to Paul's tune.

Michael had been the one who worried if he had pleased Paul, worried if Paul was happy. It wasn't Paul's fault; it was just the dynamic of that particular relationship. Michael had carved out his role as the pacifier, the nurturer. He had loved Paul and was gratified to have Paul take the lead.

Paul's role was to encourage and improve Michael. It was fine. Michael appreciated Paul's attentions and didn't take offence at Paul's dismissive attitude towards Michael's love of books and his ambition of having a bookstore. Paul's thoughts on it were that if it would make Michael then, fine. But Paul had no enthusiasm, no interest in his little dreams.

Michael sighed, Paul was a scholar. He was always buried in new research, new ideas. Michael always enjoyed listening to him as he lectured away. Michael had never realized how one sided their relationship had been until Paul had left him.

Michael finished putting on his smock when Adrian came out, all dressed and ready to go down stairs. Michael couldn't help but smile as his emotions flared. Who would have thought that he would find everything he ever needed in such an adorable and improbable package as Adrian Monk?

Adrian smiled in response to Michael's smile, "It's three thirty. Do you think the customers will be upset?"

Michael shook his head, "Nah, but let's go down and open the doors. I'm expecting a shipment tomorrow morning and I need to clear up the Science Fiction section."

"Fourteen copies of Fellowship of the Ring, ten copies of the Twin Towers, eighteen copies of the.."

Adrian kept up the running list of the expected books and Michael felt a wonderful sense of peace at the sound of Adrian's voice droning on.

*

It seemed forever since Adrian had felt so good, so normal, so right. It was almost six and Michael was upstairs preparing their dinner. He trusted his geranium, he could relax and know that his dinner would be alright. Michael was the eye of the storm that had become his life. He wanted to stay within that safe space.

Adrian raised his head as the door opened. It was Leland and he looked upset. Things must have not gone well. Adrian waited silently as Leland made his way over to the counter.

"They arrested Larry. The young man's name was Mark Essex. He was an employee at the same accounting firm Larry works at. He filed a sexual harassment complaint against Larry last Thursday. It hadn't come through cannels yet, so Larry hadn't been informed.

ME confirmed everything you said. Essex was violated. Lots of tearing. Death was due to strangulation. Death occurred two to six hours before discovery.

Larry has no alibi. He was out at some clubs, but there are too many gaps. The motive is obvious, if you buy the set up. Larry is out, there's no secret of his sexual preferences. This is going to be very ugly. Any ideas?"

Adrian frowned, "You're off the case?"

Leland looked away and then down at the counter, "Yeah, but I got it cleared with Scott Deziter to have you consult. He owed me a big favor and I cashed it. You have access. Your contact will be Scott."

Adrian nodded, "I know Scott. I worked with him before, he'll be OK. Are you going to be kept in the loop unofficially?"

"Scott said yes."

"OK, have him check at the company, if this set up is as good as I think it is, Mark Essex would have started to make complaints to his colleagues a couple of months ago. Nothing too much, just a comment here and there. Track down what he said and to whom.

I think Mark Essex was in on it and was eliminated to create a murder charge for your friend. Essex thought he was just creating a scandal. He might have been given a whole different scenario.

We need to have full access to everything that Larry and Essex were working on. First, we'll follow any money that is affected by Larry's being taken out the picture, both long term and short term. Look for fraud.

It's a big accounting firm, we need an expert. Does Art Neely still consult? "

"Yeah."

"Get him, he's good. If there is any hanky-panky going on, he'll find it. Now as far as the gay angle, it probably is opportunistic, but our murderer could have a sub agenda that he wants to exploit. Have Scott start a check on any of the accounting firm employees and look for an obvious anti-gay bias or affiliation with anti-gay groups."

Leland shook his head, "Monk, that's about everyone. There are four hundred and eighty employees."

"We need to start weeding them out. Don't overlook women. Some of them really dislike the idea of gay men. Put the money and bias together and see who falls out.

There were other ways of getting Larry ousted and discredited, his gayness didn't have to be used. It was easy or it was fun or both for the one who did this. There is probably more than one person involved. Certainly two people, maybe three, but no more.

Connections, money and bias should put us on the right road."

Leland sighed, "OK, Monk. I'll pass everything on. Can you meet with Scott tomorrow? He wants you to come in about nine."

Adrian nodded, "You going to meet him now?"

"Yeah, our discussions have to be out of the office."

"Don't worry, Leland. We'll get your friend out of trouble. Can I see him tomorrow too?"

"Yeah. He's a nice guy, Monk. I hate to see this happening to him."

Leland straightened up and looked around, "Where's Michael?"

Adrian smiled, "Upstairs, making dinner."

Leland looked at Monk's smile and the preverbal light bulb went off. Michael and Monk? Well, stranger things had happened, and if it brought Monk some happiness, good luck to them, but what the hell could they do?

*

Paul Wheelock tossed his pencil across his desk, shit. Bobby was an asshole and he was well rid of him. How dare he pull an attitude like he was some kind of wronged lover. It was him who was fucking around. Well, let him go back to the bars and fuck all he wanted to. Fuck him!

Paul leaned back and tilted his chair back as he ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't need this. He groaned as he thought of the run of lovers he had had in the last couple of years. All of them had been assholes. None had lasted more than three months.

His thoughts found their way to Michael. They always did after yet another break up. Michael had been good for him. They had been together for almost four years. They probably still would be together if Michael had not insisted on mailing those damn packages.

Paul started to feel the familiar anger that always accompanied thoughts of Michael. Why couldn't he just get over it? It wasn't like he had been hurt. If Michael had really cared about him, he would have gotten over it.

He had tried to call Michael after he broke up with Stan and had been surprised to find that Michael had moved back to San Francisco. He had occasionally heard that Michael had turned into a hermit. Heard that he was not dating and that he was not getting together with old friends.

That had not worried Paul, he had just figured that Michael was working things out. Michael was like that, instead of facing a problem, he would retreat. Paul felt a little guilty for having left,
but Michael refused to take his advise and get back to normal.

Paul sighed, no one had worked since Michael. He was still in love with Michael. Not the Michael who had nightmares and was afraid to walk down the street. No, the Michael who had listened to him, laughed with him, made love with him and looked at him with adoring eyes. That Michael had disappeared that day at the post office.

Michael had been evidently together enough to move back home, maybe the nightmares were a thing of the past. Maybe the old Michael had come back. Maybe he ought to go see for himself.

Paul had few doubts that if he wanted Michael back, he could get him back. Michael was one of those people who needed someone to define them. He could call his parents and track him down and see what was what. The post office was almost three years ago, surely he had pulled himself together by now. They had been apart for two and half years, a long time, but not too long.

Michael had been back home for six months now, surely not enough time to make commitments he couldn't walk away from. He was probably working at some job he didn't want and would be glad to come back to Paul so he could dabble in his books instead. Provided, of course, that Paul wanted him.

Paul sat up and smiled, yes, he'd take a weekend and fly out and surprise Michael.

*
San Francisco West PD
Downtown Office

Scott Dezifer glanced over to the table where Adrian Monk was diligently sorting through files. He couldn't help but wonder what Monk's criteria for sorting those file were. Monk hadn't stopped in over an hour.

There were eight hundred and eighty two files, every employee of Connor, Stein and Harowitze Accounting. They weren't much in the way of information, just five minute interviews conducted by fifteen uniforms on the day of the murder. Standard questions that didn't reveal much, just a baseline to start background checks. Most of the files didn't even have NCIC or CCIC checks done yet.

Dezifer had a wrester's build and was never comfortable in a suit. He shifted himself to a more comfortable position. He'd rather be out investigating instead of babysitting the 'Defective Detective' as he was called. No, that wasn't really fair or kind. He had worked with Monk once or twice before his wife was killed.

Monk had been a bit different, even then, but sharp. He had been able to pick a thread and follow it to the solution of the case. He had seen it twice. Stottlemeyer still had faith in Monk and he had recently solved a very nasty case.

Dezifer shifted again and tried to get back to his own reports, but Monk's methodical sorting of the files kept distracting him. Monk was wading through them quickly. What was he looking for?

An hour later

Monk gathered up the six files and hurried over to Dezifer's desk. He grabbed a anti-bacterial wet wipe from his pocket pack and cleaned the chair and a portion of the desk, then sat down and excitedly stated that he thought he had something.

Dezifer had patiently watched Monk's performance along with a few others in the large office. There were smirks and a few rude gestures behind Monk's back. Dezifer put his best snarl in place as warning and the offending detectives put their head down and went back to work. Monk smiled, he knew what had happened.

"Lieutenant, look at these. These two are the most interesting."

Dezifer opened each of the thin files and perused the scant information and looked up, baffled, "I don't see anything."

"Look at the phasing. Their answers to these mundane questions are almost word for word. Look they use the same idioms even."

Dezifer looked down at the files, it was true, but so what? He looked up at Monk, "So?"

"They work in completely different areas, they wouldn't encounter one another on a regular basis. She's married and so is he. They're probably having an affair and they're probably defrauding the company."

"That's sort of a big leap, isn't it?"

"Not really. She handles a lot of big accounts, has access to funds and he is in secondary oversight. He checks her accounts and certifies them for the company. Perfect. She embezzles, he marks it off and no one is the wiser. If the amounts stay low, no problem.

Unfortunately, Larry Makin, as one of the VP's, just instigated another level of rechecking accounts in response to the recent scandals. He was going to run them through a special soft ware program he had designed. With him in jail, it won't be used."

"You got this all from how they phased their answers?", Dezifer asked incredibly.

"Yes, and the general information that Art Neely passed on to me. Can you ask him to concentrate on these two?"

Dezifer nodded his head, "Yeah, what about those other files?"

"Well, Mark Essex was a low level part time mail clerk who was doing twenty hours a week on an internship. He was ambitious and not well liked by those who knew him. He worked in the section of the building where he would have had some contact with both Dobson, Wintering as
well as Makin.

I think there had to be one more player. These four are possibilities because they would have contact with Essex and their answers concerning Essex were very non committal. Only these four were neutral when talked about Essex. He routinely came in contact with sixty-two people at work. Fifty-eight of them used adjectives like rude, obnoxious or arrogant. The kindest adjective was immature. These four claimed not to notice him. I think one of them had a reason to be as bland as possible.

We need deep background checks for these six as well as their work records. Ah..maybe, just for the work records, ask for twenty-five or so. Any names will do. I don't want to alert them."

Dezifer nodded his head.

5 Hours later

Leland sighed in relief as he walked out of the police station with his friend Larry.

"So they got all four of them, did they?"

Leland nodded, "Yeah, Monk did. He spotted Wintering and Dobson right away and Lenson and Russman were in a short list of four possibles ."

Larry Makin was a tall, slender man with the habit of slightly hunching his shoulders as he walked. He looked over at his friend, "That's amazing. He didn't strike me as too clever when he visited me this morning."

"I told you his story. He's still recovering. It will take some time for him to get back, hell, he may never get back completely, but he's able to function pretty damn good as a consultant."

Larry looked over at his friend and held up his hands, "Take it easy, I didn't mean anything. I am very grateful to him. That could have been very nasty. They had the frame well in place. I don't know how I would have ever proved that I didn't kill Essex."

"It was fortunate that the Lieutenant went with Monk's lead. It didn't take long for Mr. Wintering to turn on Ms. Dobson or for Ms. Dobson to turn on Lenson and Russman. It won't do them very much good, but the confessions are in and the plea bargains are all in place. They'll still be doing plenty of hard time."

"Why did they kill Essex in such a way?"

"They wanted to distract everyone from looking too closely at the company, which was pretty stupid. We would have done it any case. They needed four more months to finish their plan and take off to parts unknown. You were going to mess that up. If they killed you, it would bring attention to what you were doing at work. If there was a mess because of your private life, the emphasis would be on you.

You were already out, so it had to be something big. A scandal and sexual harassment case would take time, so they lured Essex into the situation and then killed him, hoping to frame you for murder. It didn't matter whether you were convicted or not. By the time you came to trial, they would have taken off with over two million."

"Good, God! I'd like to thank Mr. Monk. Do you have any suggestions? I don't want to.you know.ah.put him in a situation he would be uncomfortable with."

Leland looked over to his friend and had a sudden inspiration, "Ah.Larry, this might be a bit unusual, and I might be wrong, but I don't think so. Do you know a man named Michael O'Malley? He owns a bookstore in Old Town called the Treasure Trap."

"Yeah, just to say hello. It's one of the bookstores that has a pretty good collection of gay fiction. Mr. O'Malley is gay, but he doesn't go out to the clubs. Sort of the quiet type."

"Well, Michael was Brian O'Malley's cousin."

"The one who was killed in the car crash, Mr. Monk's friend?"

"Yeah. Michael O'Malley and Monk have been spending lots of time together and I suspect that they might be a couple."

Larry stopped and looked at his friend, "A couple? Monk's not gay and I can tell you that I've never met a real bi-sexual. It's usually just denial. He was married, oh I know that might not mean a lot, but you always told me he loved his wife. Look at how he reacted to her murder."

Leland stopped too, he turned to his friend, "I always knew Monk was bisexual. He told me the first day he worked for me. He also said that he loved his wife and was faithful to her."

"Do you know why he told you?"

Leland looked away, "He said that a former male lover was in the department and that the affair had ended badly. It was before he had married and he was sure his ex-lover would make sure I heard about it. He was right."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

Leland looked back at his friend, "I'd like you to start going by the bookstore and strike up a friendship with both of them. They're both a bit isolated and a bit of support from a gay friend might mean a lot. It's one way to really say 'thank you'.

Larry started to walk again, "You're really too much. If you weren't straight, I grab you. Sure, I'll be glad to stop by and see if I can be a friend to them. Are you sure?"

Leland glanced over, "Not completely, but I think so."

Larry kept his eyes straight ahead, "I hope Mr. Monk knows how good a friend you are to him."

"He knows."

*

Michael and Adrian slipped into a comfortable pattern. They spent most days at the bookstore and most evenings at Adrian's house. Sharona took care of the marketing and collecting Monk for doctor's appointments. Michael started closing the bookstore on Mondays so that they would have time to spend together.

After two weeks, Michael was spending every night at Adrian's and his things had migrated over. The room upstairs was used for their lunch and for their mid-afternoon break. Neither had mentioned the fact that they were now living together, it didn't seem necessary.

Sharona's job was a lot easier now, but she even helped out in the bookstore once in a while. She seemed to have an aptitude for keeping the books. Michael did them, but hated that part of the job. Adrian had shown no interest in number crunching, but was exceptional in his ability to access the stock and order the books. Michael, for the first time since he bought the Treasure Trap, had time to work on the displays and window.

Michael had gone out and splurged on all sorts of interesting stuff to put in the window with his books. Michael loved antiques and had started to pepper them in displays. The place was starting to really come together and get some character. The store had never looked better.

Sales had increased too. His Monkey was keeping up and had managed not to overstock him with inventory that couldn't fit or didn't sell. For once, Michael was feeling.safe.content and happy. He was very much in love and it was wonderful.

Satisfied with the window display, he summoned Adrian. He had arranged it so that it was attractive and appealing both from the outside and the inside. He wanted to create a welcoming, homey type of atmosphere.

Adrian expressed his admiration and smiled. It reminded him of Christmas, even if the season was wrong. But the holidays would be coming soon enough. It was late September now. The idea of spending the holidays with Michael sent a sensation of warmth through Monk and he smiled.

He had not wanted to face the holidays, but Michael made it a joy. Michael had told him that holidays since his break-up with his ex-lover had been bleak. He had fallen into a deep depression. One of the reasons that he had moved back to San Francisco was so he could spend the holidays with Brian and his friends and not be alone. Brian was sadly gone, but his Monkey was here. The only thing that would have made him happier would be if Brian could still be with them.

Michael looked over at Adrian's rapt face as he examined his work. How was it possible to love this man so completely? He had never been so connected to someone before. Never, not like this. Adrian was part of him, a part he could never do without.

It was four-thirty on a Sunday and it was time to close up shop. Sharona came out of the back and announced she was leaving to pick up her son from his friend's house and that she'd see them on Tuesday. She was helping out in her son's fifth grade class tomorrow. Both Adrian and Michael expressed their sympathy with grins and Sharona laughed and wiggled her fingers as she strode out the door.

Adrian and Michael wandered around straightening the shelves and emptying the register in preparation to leave. At ten to five the bell tinkled above the door and a man walked through the door.

He was of medium build and height and had blond thinning hair. He was handsome in an academic way. He had light blue eyes and he flashed them at Adrian who was behind the counter.

"Where the hell is Michael?"

Monk was not good at confrontations unless he was pinning a murderer to the wall or protecting Michael it seemed.

"What business is it of yours? Who are you?"

"I'm Paul Wheelock, a friend."

Monk's face hardened, "You're the asshole who left him when he needed you. Go back to New York, you're not welcome here."

Michael had just taken the trash out and was rushing back in, "Monkey, it's started raining. It's really coming." He stopped abruptly when he saw Paul.

"What are you doing here, Paul?", Michael stuttered.

"You could answer that yourself. I had a hell of a time tracking you down. Nobody was willing to tell me where you holed up. Finally, I got lucky and one of your nephews spilled the beans when he answered the phone. Why are you hiding from me?"

Michael walked behind the counter, "I'm not hiding. You know my family are not about to answer questions about me or talk to anyone who might know me."

"Can you get away for awhile? Let's go eat and talk."

Michael was ramrod straight and spat out, "No. I have other plans."

"But Mickey, I flew all the way here and searched since Friday night for you. Surely your boss will let you go, at least for a while."

"No."

Paul face hardened and he turned to Monk, "Come on, let him off for a few hours."

Monk walked around the counter and started counting, he couldn't hit the man. When he was face to face with the man, he glared into his eyes and said in a low, dangerous voice, "Go home, asshole. Michael doesn't have a boss, he owns this place."

Michael relaxed a bit, Adrian could be awesome at times. He would always remember his take down of his bully brother, Matthew. He walked up beside Adrian and put his arm around him, "Paul, this is my lover, Adrian Monk, police consultant extraordinaire. He catches murders when the police are baffled. I want you to leave; we don't have anything to say to each other."

Paul looked at Adrian, who was Michael fooling? This guy, this moppet, his lover? Paul looked around, it was a nice store and Michael actually owned it? He never thought Michael was capable of actually working.

"You've done well."

"Thank you, please leave."

Paul smiled, "What's the matter, Mickey? Afraid that those embers will flare into flame? Sex with this can't be like what be had. Stop playing games. Can't we at least talk?"

"No."

"Come on, it's a one time offer, I won't come back again."

"Good, go."

Monk shifted his weight on his feet. He had been counting but it was doing no good. This asshole was going to leave and he was going to leave now. Without another thought, Monk grabbed the irritant and swung him around. He held him by the back of his shirt and the back of his belt as he marched him forcefully out the door. Monk gave him a push and slammed the door and locked it.

Michael was still standing in the same place. The expression on his face was so sad, Adrian raced over and put his arms around him. Michael started to softly cry. Adrian rubbed his back and tried to comfort him. Michael had loved the asshole and love blinded you to a lot of things. Michael had just seen Paul without the blinders and without the excuses he had formulated to explain Paul's behavior. It had to hurt.

"Shush, baby, you've got me now. I love you. Let it go."

"I.I loved him. How could I have loved him so?"

Adrian held him closer, he didn't want to answer. He could picture Michael, so young, so lonely, so desperate for attention and love. He was so sweet, so gentle, so good at denial. Always striving to make his world, a world of happy colors, happy things, happy people.

It was one of the things Adrian loved about this man, his insistence to live in a Disneyland of his own making and pulling Monk into his world. How dare that asshole disrupt their lives? Wheelock had no idea how fragile Michael really was, didn't care.

Carlton House, Wheelock was staying at Carlton House. If he wasn't catching a plane tonight, he would still be there. He had seen the Carlton House pen peaking out of his shirt pocket. Stolen, no doubt.

Finally, Michael calmed down and ran upstairs to wash up. Adrian waited until he heard the water running and then walked over to the phone. He dialed Leland's number. Leland would convince that asshole to return to New York and stay there.

*

When Paul got back to his hotel room, he threw his jacket down and kicked the nearest table. Who the fuck did Michael think he was? He couldn't believe that Michael actually owned a business. His Michael would have never been able to handle it. It was probably that weirdo, pseudo cop who owned it. That cop story had probably been a fairy tale, Michael was good at making up stories.

Yeah, it had been a shock, that was all. Let's see how Michael will hold up without that clown beside him. He had until Thursday. Maybe he get Michael to break up with the guy and then leave him high and dry. It would serve him right.

Paul flopped on the bed. Shit, Sunday night. What the fuck could anyone do on a Sunday night? He decided to look up a club, but on Sunday night, it would hardly be hopping. Maybe he'd get lucky and snag a guy for the night. Hell, he wished he hadn't come after all. It looked like it might be a big waste of money.

He couldn't believe the Michael he had seen tonight. Before, all he had to do was smile and Michael would do most anything he wanted. It must be that guy, get him away from that shit head and Michael would come back, and then he could decide if he wanted him.

He had spent a couple of dull hours at a club. It had been packed, but no one paid much attention to him. He was an unknown and he was a bit old for the crowd. They seemed to be all twenty-two. Everyone had been dancing. Wild and primal. Shit, he must be the only gay man who had absolutely no sense of rhythm.

It had made Paul feel old and very alone. He was only thirty-one, but his hair was thinning and the weight was harder to keep off. He didn't like being invisible. He didn't like growing old and he didn't like being without someone to admire him.

He knew he wanted to be loved and he also knew he wasn't too keen on loving. He had loved Michael and look where that got him. Michael had wreaked their near perfect love and now he was stuck with shit. Why couldn't Michael just get over it? If he had really loved him, Paul knew that he would have.

Paul's mind started to whirl with scenarios that included the elements of breaking up Michael and his new lover, getting him back, throwing him out and having him beg for another chance. He was nearly asleep when someone pounded on the door. Shit.

Paul angrily threw open the door and growled, "What the fuck do you want?"

The man at the door didn't look happy, he looked hard and dangerous. Paul stepped back. "I'm Captain Leland Stottlemeyer of San Francisco West Police and I'm here to escort you to the airport where you will take the next plane to New York."

"You have no right."

"If you choose not to go with me, I will arrest you on trespass charges. You won't get back to New York for two weeks."

"Trespass? I didn't trespass anywhere."

"The owner of the Treasure Trap and his associate, an occasional consultant of mine, asked you to leave at least three times. Three times and you failed to leave equals trespass. He will press charges. He says you're devious and he would prefer it if you a few thousand miles away."

"Who said I'm devious, Michael?"

"No, his associate, Adrian Monk. He not often wrong about people."

" Are you really going to do this?", Paul asked incredibly.

"Yup, pack up and make it fast."

*

Later that evening

Adrian started the dishwasher and looked back out to the living room where Michael was sitting. He had a book open, but he wasn't reading it. It was late and the evening had been strained. Adrian was at a lost on how to comfort his lover.

He knew better than harp on what an asshole Paul Wheelock was. Michael already knew how he had let him down, he didn`t need to have his face rubbed in it. After Michael had quit crying, he had retreated into a quiet non-emotional cocoon. It scared Adrian. Adrian thought that he had a glimpse of what Michael had been like after the break up.

Adrian wanted to pull him out of it, but wasn't certain how. It was evident, despite what Paul had done, Michael had loved him, after all he had stayed with him for nearly four years. It had not been Michael's choice to leave. Adrian turned back to straightening up the kitchen.

He continued his breathing exercises, he knew he had to control his anger. Anger had been a real problem since he came back to the world. Up till now, the he had no place to direct his anger.

He knew the amount of anger he was feeling towards Paul was disproportionate to the asshole's failings. He slammed the toaster back in place and placed his hands on the rim of the counter. Just breathe, breathe.

Michael was roused from his musing by the loud bang. Oh Adrian! Michael got up and rushed to the kitchen door. Adrian was rigidly standing with his hands braced against the counter and Michael could tell he was doing his breathing exercises. Damn.

Michael walked in and quietly went to stand behind Adrian and put his arms around his waist and leaned his head on his lover's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Monkey. I.I don't love him anymore, but I did and I still can't help caring for him. I'm sorry."

Adrian leaned back and stopped his exercises, "Michael, it's OK. Are you OK. I just don't like to see you hurting, I don't know what to do."

Michael turned him around, "Monkey, I love you. You don't need to do anything besides love me. Hold me."

They stood there for a time comforting each other listening to the coffee maker do its thing. When the noise stopped, Michael stepped back, "Let's get some coffee and then we can talk."

Back out in the living, they sunk into the sofa and faced each other. Michael took a sip of coffee then place it on the end table.

"I realized that Paul's and my relationship was not what a relationship should be after he left me. It took some time and distance, but I know that he and I, being together would have not worked out. Even if I had never walked into that post office, at some point, we would have broken up. I came to that conclusion long before I met you.

Paul showing up today doesn't change that but it did bring back lots of. stuff."

Adrian nodded, "You're certain of your feelings?"

Michael nodded and smiled, "Yeah, I'm more than certain. I love you. I have never been so comfortable with someone, You know, been able to be myself and feel good about it. I have never been so happy in my life."

Adrian shifted and looked down to his hands, "And having said that, what is it you want to say?"

Michael chuckled, "Ah, can't get anything pass you, can I? Well, I really don't want to. I'm a bit worried about Paul. I know him and for him to come calling means he's very unhappy. I don't like to think of him as being unhappy."

Adrian looked up, "What could you do about it?"

Michael looked away and grabbed his tepid coffee and looked down. "I could write him, we could write him. We could be his friends. Someone to write to, to vent to. He had never had many friends. I don't think that would have changed.

He teaches at a community college. He had goals you know, research and tenure at a major university. His career was hampered because he is gay and he resents it. I think he knows he'll never be at a major university and I think he knows that most of his professional dreams are unattainable.

He's an historian. His head is always full of somebody's else's story or some past event or era. I told him he should write for the public. Biographies or something. He said he couldn't do it because his colloquies wouldn't respect the work. Unfortunately, I don't think he's that well respected by his colloquies, who are ninety-nine point 99 per cent, straight. I don't think they would respect him or his work, no matter what he did. Academia is way too competitive.

He never would listen to my suggestion about writing popular history, but look at Edmund Morris, Bix and McCullough won Pulitzers for their biographies. He just wants to be a professor so badly. I think he just beginning to realize that he has to let his dreams go. I feel so guilty. I have my dream, the store and I have my you."

Adrian stood up and knelt in front of Michael, "Baby, you are so compassionate, I love you. You don't need to feel guilty. You haven't done anything to feel guilty about. I think you're wonderful to still care enough about him to write to him. That's fine with me. Are you sure you want to? Do you think he might misinterpret your interest?"

Michael reached out and grasped Adrian's hands in his, "Yeah, maybe, you're right. If we contact him, it will be as a couple. I couldn't even think about doing this if I wasn't sure I was completely over him. Monkey, you can be sure of that."

Adrian searched Michael's eyes and was reassured, "I am. Michael, I should tell you, I had Leland take Paul to the airport and send him home."

"You what? How?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't want him to put more pressure on you. He wasn't going to stop."

At Adrian's worried look, Michael squeezed his lover's hands, "It's Ok. You're right, he wouldn't stop while he's still here. We'll wait a week before we write, it will sink in. He doesn't really want me, he wants someone to love him and he figured I'd be easy to put in place. But how did Leland convince him to go home?"

"Leland threatened to charge him with trespass. It's the law that if you ask someone to leave your place of business three times and they refuse to leave, you can swear out a complaint for trespass.

Leland said that he was going to stay until Thursday. If a complaint had been issued, it would have kept him in town for at least two weeks."

"Poor Paul, I don't image he felt too good about being run out of town, but it for the best. Paul would have pestered me until he had to leave and then he would have cried and carried on in a last ditch effort to get me to go with him."

"You sure you want to continue knowing this guy?"

Michael grinned, "Yeah, Paul had a lot of good in him too. He's just needs somebody to love him, really love him. I just let him get away with way too much. He never felt the need to give, to contribute. I think, if Paul ever connects with someone who could really love him, all those good attributes that I saw a glimmer of would come to the forefront."

Adrian nodded his head and looked straight into Michael's eyes, "Ok, baby. It's your call." Adrian leaned in to do their version of a kiss.

Michael felt desire slam into him as Adrian's tongue traced his lower lip. Feeling daring and connected to his lover, he eased out his own tongue and lightly touched Adrian's. Prepared to withdraw, Michael was shocked as he felt Adrian respond.

Michael was moaning as he felt Adrian's tongue explore him. It was the best kiss that either of them had ever experienced. The flood gates had opened and neither one could get enough of the other. They started moving and neither knew how their clothes were discarded.

They were finally naked and writhing against each other, mouths firmly locked in place. It was amazing. It was too intense to last long and they moaned into each other's mouths as they came within seconds of each other.

Exhausted, they finally disengaged their mouths and simply held each other on the too narrow couch. As soon as Michael could think again, he got up and pulled Adrian with him.

"Come on Monkey, let's go take a bath."

Adrian merely let himself be tugged along. Once in the jet whirled hot water, Michael pulled Adrian to his chest. Adrian was grinning.

"We did it! Michael, we really kissed. You're a wonderful kisser."

Michael snuggled into the back of Adrian's neck and kissed him there. "Yeah, we did, didn't we? You're a marvelous kisser too. I could kiss you forever. I love to hold you like this."

Adrian leaned back and tilted his head up so that his lips were easily reached by Michael. "Baby."

Michael didn't let Adrian finish asking, he could see it in his eyes. He bent down his head and gathered Adrian into a full open mouthed kiss. He felt a wave of desire cresting to swamp him along with joy. It was truly incredible what this man could do to him. He rode his joy along the wave of desire as he let himself be swamped into the familiar glorious depths.

Part 15

Treasure Trap
Next Day

Monk emerged from the cooking section and walked behind the counter and put his arms around Michael's waist. It was wonderful. They both were getting so comfortable with physical expression between them. Michael paused with the register kicked out register tape in a cash summary and leaned back into Monk.

"Michael, I need to see Leland. I called him and asked if he could meet me at the Storyteller's Café for coffee. I wanted to thank him and let him know about us. Do you want to come?"

Michael turned around, "Do you want me to?"

Monk gathered him in a gentle hug, "It's up to you. You don't need to be, if you'd rather not."

Michael laid his head against Monk's shoulder, "I'd rather not. I hate scenes. I don't know him very well and he is your friend. Sorry, I'm rambling."

Michael took a breath and then continued, "No. I'll stay here. When are you going?"

Monk held him a little closer, "In a few minutes. It's OK. I hope you can get to know Leland and Peggy. You'll like them and I know they'll like you."

Michael nodded against his lover's shoulder, "I'm sure you're right. I know he's been a very good friend to you and that makes him special in my book. I just am not comfortable dumping all this on someone I don't really know.

I trust what you say, but he doesn't know me. He might…Oh hell, I'm just not ready for another emotional scene after yesterday."

Monk's voice was tender, "Baby, that's fine. I won't be long, but he is my fiend and I do need to do this."

Michael merely nodded against Monk's shoulder again.

******************************

The Storyteller's Café

The Storyteller's Café was only half a block away from the Treasure Trap. It was a trendy little coffee bar that hosted storytellers at night instead of Karaoke. The storytellers plied their trade at libraries, schools and various festivals. There were about twenty tables spread around a small raised disc in the center, the storyteller's platform.

Monk walked in holding his own coffee mug with the Storyteller's logo brazened across it. They knew him and had given him, a guided tour, along with Michael to reassure him that the facility and coffee urns were clean and the coffee properly stored.

Monk took his mug of coffee to a corner table and waited for Leland. He was not worried, he had told Leland years before about his bisexuality, so his relationship with Michael was not going to be too much of a shock.

Leland hurried in, and spotting Monk, went up to the counter to order a coffee. He sort of knew what was coming and was anxious to get it over with. He picked up his change and coffee and headed for Monk's table. He couldn't help observing him for the few seconds it took to get to the table. Monk looked good.

Gone was that brown suit that Monk had worn like a uniform. He was now dressed in brown slacks and a loose baby blue knit shirt. He looked relaxed, he looked happy.

Leland set his coffee on the table and sat down. He pulled his suit jacket, making sure his weapon was hidden.

"Thanks for the break, Monk. Ridder was driving me crazy this morning. What's up?"

Monk smiled at his friend's thoughtful covering for the intrusion into his workday.

"Thanks for coming. I wanted to thank you for dealing with Paul Wheelock. Michael said he's not really as nasty as I thought, but Michael is not up to his antics. I still don't trust him."

"That's all right. You gave me what I needed to leverage him. Took only an hour or so."

Monk nodded and looked down, "I also wanted to tell you that…" All of a sudden, Monk lost his nerve. He looked up and started again. "I…"

Leland sighed and leaned forward as he interrupted Monk, "Are you going to tell me that you and Michael are in a relationship? If you are?, it's old news, but thanks for telling me now."

"How did you know?", Monk asked in an impressed voice.

Leland shrugged his shoulders, "Is it working? Are you OK?"

Monk decided to let his question go and smiled, "Yeah, it's working. We're happy. We're good for each other."

Leland shifted his weight, he wanted to ask, but knew it was really none of his business. However, he knew he was going to ask anyway. "Ah, Monk, is this relationship…ah…you know…like sexual?"

Monk laughed, Leland was the only one who would ask and he was the only one he would answer.

"Yes, Leland. Wonderfully sexual. It took a bit a trying this and that, but it seems, at least with Michael, I can still function sexually. It's too good for words."

Leland returned Monk's smile, "Well, I'll be. Love will find a way and all that. Congratulations Monk. You should have brought Michael. You knew I wasn't going to give you any hassles. You did know, didn't you?"

Monk folded his hands and sat up straighter, "Of course, I did! But Michael is still a bit fragile and he doesn't know you well yet. Michael's got some problems."

Leland' face went blank and coplike, "Can I ask what kind of problems?"

Monk nodded, "He has some symptoms of Delayed Stress Syndrome. His nightmares are really bad and he doesn't like to go out sometimes. He was emotionally hammered yesterday and today wants to stay inside his store."

Monk continued and told Leland about the post office massacre and about Paul leaving him. He also filled Leland in on Michael's family including his cousin Brian.

Leland sat and listened and realized that Brian O'Malley's death had truly been tragic for these two. What a man Brian must have been to reach out to these two wounded souls. He was sorry that he had only met the man in passing.

Leland finished his coffee, "Thanks Monk for telling all that. I need to get back. How about I walk you back to the Trap so I can say hello to Michael and congratulate him?"

"Yes, yes, that would be good." Monk rose and took his coffee cup up to the counter so they could rinse it out. Leland threw his paper cup away and watched the clerk return Monk's cup with good grace.

******************************
Later at the Treasure Trap

Michael followed the last customer to the door and locked it. It had been a good day. Sales were up and his Monkey had spent the day with him. He never got tired of his company. Best of all, Leland had come by and actually congratulated him on his relationship with Monk. He even good naturedly warned Michael to keep Monk happy. It had been so nice, so normal in its way. Happiness shared with a friend, so simple.

It had been a wonderful day and as he watched Adrian fold up his smock and lay it in the laundry box, he thought it was going to be a wonderful night. They'd be home by nine-fifteen at the latest. Their house was only an eight minute drive. Life had seldom been this perfect.

Michael walked up to Monk as he dawdled, straightening up the laundry box and took his hand. "Later, Monkey, let's go home and make love. I've decided it's time to put my tongue where it's never been before. See how you like it."

Monk's bemused face told Michael that he didn't have a clue. His tongue had been over most of Adrian's body, but not all. Michael laughed as he pulled a non-resisting Monk along.

Part 16

Leland was distracted throughout the day as he shuffled paper and various detectives. He wasn't sure why he was feeling this way. Maybe it was because he wouldn't be seeing Penny today. It was Friday and she was having an `overnight' with her Girl Scout Troop. He smiled,
he was technically a Girl Scout himself. Wouldn't the guys get a hoot out of that!

Any adult who helped out with the troop had to register as an adult Girl Scout. He had gone through a number of classes and even gone and got his camp certification. There were other men, but not many.

He had become at master at fire craft and camp cooking. His specialty was cooking with Dutch ovens. He made home made fire starters with sawdust and paraffin to light the charcoal with which he cooked with the Dutch ovens. It was great fun.

He had never done any outdoors stuff as a child and was thoroughly enjoying learning about camping, backpacking and all the nature stuff now.

He taught the girls and sometimes even other leaders at leader training sessions. He enjoyed being involved in his daughter's life. He enjoyed bringing a giggle and a smile to Penny when she saw her dad in his Girl Scout tee shirt. But, he had not run into any single mothers in his Girl Scout participation.

Maybe he was in a mood because he was going home to that damn empty house. Maybe, if he was honest, he was just a tad jealous of Monk. He shifted in his seat, damn petty to be jealous of a man who had been dealt so much tragedy in his life. But he was. Monk had someone. Monk was in love. Monk was not going to sleep alone tonight.

Leland was always able to put aside his personal needs when Penny was around, but when she was gone…he fell into a pit of black. He hated self-pity, but he was so damn good at it!

Enough! Leland stood up and walked to his office window. Maybe he should go out tonight. There was a jazz club he had been thinking about trying out, but hadn't bothered. He hated to go alone. He didn't like putting himself in the position of being just another lonely male looking for female company.

And he knew he would look and if he found anyone, it would be no one that he would want to take home and introduce to Penny. He had never been a fan of one-night stands. He sat back down and a familiar face came to mind. Maybe.

*****************************

At Monk's and Michael's place

As soon as door closed behind them, Michael took Adrian's hand and pulled him to the bedroom. He started undressing him and talking in low tones. Adrian was passive, but not unwilling. Michael was in his `determined' mode, as Adrian had categorized it. It had only
happened a few times, but it seemed that Michael sometimes had a need to control their lovemaking. Adrian didn't mind at all.

Soon Adrian was nude and let himself be deposited on the bed. He turned his head so he could watch Michael strip. No finesse tonight, Michael was just tossing his cloths aside as fast as he could.

Michael laid himself full length on Adrian and whispered in his ear. "Monkey, I'm going to love you. I want you to just enjoy it. I…" Michael paused to pepper Adrian's face and neck with kisses. "I want to make you come, just feel."

Adrian was already 'feeling' quite a bit and squirmed a bit. "MMMM, Ok Baby. Love me."

Michael let himself sink into a sexual haze. He loved this. Adrian was so submissive and responsive. He took Adrian's wrists and pulled them over his head. He then held on with one hand as he nipped and sucked, alternating between Adrian's lips and neck.

Michael gathered a discarded pajama bottom and wrapped one of the legs loosely around Adrian's wrists. Adrian moaned, it was symbolic, not threatening. Adrian found it unexpectedly exciting.

Michael continued his way down Adrian's wonderfully hairy chest. He nipped, softly pulled hair with his teeth and sucked and nipped at Adrian's nipples. Adrian was erect and dripping pre-cum.

Adrian was becoming more frantic and was moving, but still keeping his arms over his head and locked at the wrist. Michael speed up his endeavors, knowing Adrian was going to start actively participating soon.

Michael quickly sat up and straddled Adrian backwards. He shimmied down until he was laying on Adrian with his head between his lover's out stretched legs. He licked at Adrian's sensitive inner thighs and let his body weight tease Adrian's cock as his smooth chest rubbed against it.

Michael felt Adrian's hands grip his own out stretched legs and Adrian's mouth nipping at his own inner thighs. Michael moaned and almost came when Adrian's mouth found his glands. Michael continued his assault and mouthed Adrian's balls and spread his legs further apart. Adrian complied readily, opening himself as wide as he could. Michael pulled back his lover's legs and started licking him under his balls and down further until he reached Adrian's anus. His goal. He could feel Adrian's cock swell against his chest as he finally inserted his tongue. Over and over, around and in and out, it was wonderful. Michael lost track of how long he was at this marvelous task. Adrian was erupting beneath him and loudly moaning, sometimes calling out Michael's name.

Michael was too far gone to really pay much attention. Finally, Michael felt a wet eruption against his moving chest. He felt Adrian arching up and shouting. When Adrian had relaxed back down, Michael licked his left index finger and gently inserted it into his lover.

Michael then moved it in and out and slightly around, meeting no resistance, he inserted another finger and gently stretched the small opening. He then stuck his fingers as far as they would go, looking for Adrian's sweet spot.

The prostrate, a gay man's jewel was what he was looking for. When he found it, Michael felt Adrian's cock swell again as Adrian surged beneath him. Michael then lifted himself up enough to take Adrian's glands into his mouth and sucked in rhythm with his finger's thrusts.

Adrian had let go of Michael's cock when he had started to rim him, but the friction of his cock against Adrian's hairy chest was propelling him towards climax. Neither of them would last much longer.

Michael took Adrian's cock deeper into his mouth as he came, forced it down his throat as he shuddered with his climax. He kept his fingers inside of Adrian, but stopped moving them.

Adrian was shooting quickly over the edge, he started moving in a way that made Michael's fingers move inside him, once, twice and then he was tumbling into that magnificent oblivion.

It was a while before Adrian felt Michael's cum on his chest, a while more before it started to itch. He didn't care. Michael had crawled up into his arms, exhausted. Nothing was going to make him disturb his lover. Nothing.

This was his geranium, it was just nectar and it was OK. Better than Ok, it was the evidence of Michael's love for him. With these thoughts and a grin on his face, Adrian drifted to sleep with his arms tightly wrapped around his lover.

*************************

Sharona dropped the phone back on the receiver. Friday night and she was actually going out! Her across the street neighbor had been able to let Benji stay over night. Nate and Benji were good friends and stayed over at each other's houses often.

It had been ages since she had gone out on a `date'. She was looking forward to a nice dinner and some adult conversation. She was also looking forward to getting to know Leland Stottlemeyer better. She had liked him as she watched how he had been so supportive of her
boss. His kindness had not gone unnoticed by her.

Monk had told her that he was a widower and had a daughter a little younger than Benji. She was the one who crocheted those…booties for Monk. Shrona had thought Monk's friend was very handsome, but sort of untouchable, being a captain and all.

Sharona had come from a very working class, her dad had worked occasionally, family. She had been the first to get any sort of professional training, nursing school. She had been proud of her achievement. Her family, however, had not been supportive, they had belittled it.

They were only too ready to point out how she had earned her tuition and that all her higher education had not saved her from being an unwed mother like so many of her cousins and aunts.

Sharona didn't let them bother her too much, but she found their attitude difficult. A lot of them were on welfare and were home during the day. They refused to help her with Benji when he was little so she could work. She had moved away and nursed part time and hooked on the side. She had made Benji her priority and had made it work.

As soon as he was school age she moved back to San Francisco and looked for full time legitimate work. She had ended up working for a company who provided home nurses. She enjoyed this more than hospital work and was able to be home, most of the time for Benji.

A few months ago, she had left the company to work for Monk. It was good. Benji was 10 and needed supervision. Monk was a pain, but easy to work for. He didn't mind Benji being around after school.

She was glad now that her family had been the way they were, because now she had very little contact with them. She had gotten along fine without them. She saw her sister once in a while, but the rest, she just sent Christmas cards. They would never think well of her anyway. She was always going be the one who they said thought she was better than they were but was nothing but a tramp and whore. She didn't need that. Benji didn't either. Her family were anything but a good influence for her son.

Sharona was throwing cloths around, she wanted to look nice. She knew she tended towards tacky. She had watched what the women wore at school functions and tried to copy, but didn't have much luck.

Once she was out of uniforms, she stuck mainly to pants and tops. She didn't want Benji's mom to look like a cheap. But, looking at her closet, she was dismayed. She had two of her old outfits, too tarty. Two dresses she had brought to attend school activities, too matronly. Damn.

Finally she settled on a slack outfit that she interviewed with. Black crape slacks with a simple white crape blouse and simple black crape jacket. She added gold hoop earrings and a multicolored scarf around her neck. It would have to do.

**********************

Leland was happy that Sharona had accepted. He liked her, liked her spunk and how she handled Monk. He had watched her help her son with his homework while mollifying Monk through one of his crisis. He had been impressed.

He had met her sister and could guess that her background had been a challenge. It would be fun getting to know her. He hadn't been this excited about a woman in six years. It was a great feeling.

Part 17

Julian Monk's house
Oakland

Damien Monk sat uncomfortably in a hard back chair in the kitchen of his brother`s, Julian, house. He was waiting for his brother to come downstairs and talk to him.

Damien looked around. It was a small, but perfect, house. Very yuppie. All the right appliances, all very put together, but somehow, lifeless.

Julian and Karen both worked in computer software and were deliberately childless. They didn't even have a pet. Damien looked around, not a plant either. It was very like his parents' home, except they had had five children.

The Monk children were all kept away from the common part of the house in order to keep it clean. The Monk children had no `free' zone in which to live. It had been sterile, both in environment and in relationships. The senior Monks were undemonstrative, no hugs and only a few smiles.

They both were economic professors at Sanford. Now, they were both on sabbatical in Sacramento, writing articles and whatnot.

Damien remembered, with a grimace, the nightly ritual of a handshake from his father and dutifully kissing his mother on the cheek before bed. He could never remember his mother holding or comforting any of them. He had not known what a vacant existence that was until he had met Jean.

She had opened up a whole new world for him and had demanded that he walk into it with her. It was a rich world, full of hugs and kisses and true caring, true love. He had thrown himself into that world with the desperation of a dying man. He had never been so happy.

He had been happy until a drunk driver had taken Jean from him. Now, even two years after her death, it still hurt. Still hurt in such a deep and blinding way. At just the thought of her death was enough to start plunging him into a pit of despair.

He was jerked out of the downward spiral his thoughts had caused by a loud laugh of delight and the sound of small feet running over expensive wood flooring.

"Daddy! Daddy! What this?"

Kevin put the new found treasure in his father's hands. Damien looked down at the ridiculous thing, "It's a glass bubble. See the little air holes trapped inside? Kevin, can you tell me the color?"

Kevin looked up into his daddy's eyes and nodded, "Green, Daddy and little whites inside."

Damien smiled, "Very good, Kevin. Can you put it back where you found it so Uncle Julian and Aunt Karen won't think they lost it ?"

Kevin happily nodded and carefully carried it back to a shelf and with the exaggerated care of a three year old placed it carefully on the shelf.

Kevin was getting bored and tired. If Julian didn't get his butt downstairs, Damien decided he was going to leave. He might just have to travel to Sacramento and bother his parents.

It was so frustrating; all he wanted was some information. No one had bothered to tell him that Adrian had come out of his comatose condition. He had just moved back from Phoenix with Kevin and had gone to the nursing home where Adrian had been living. They had informed him that Adrian had left the nursing home almost five months ago!

Finally Julian made an appearance and frowned as he noticed Kevin looking at all the expensive knick-knacks. Damien, in turn, frowned at Julian. It was a pity, five kids and none of them were very close.

In their childhood, the kids had always been encouraged to compete with each other and none of them ever succeeded in pleasing either parent. Julian had been the oldest by four years, then Reagan, who had fled to Hawaii and made a living researching volcanoes for the National Geology Service. He had modified his first name to Ray. Three years later, the middle child had been born and had been named Adrian.

Adrian attempted to please everybody and be the peace maker. He pleased nobody and there was never any peace in the Monk cold war. Adrian was the most sensitive one, the one who was always crushed by his continual failure at parental appeasement.

Until he, too, made a rebellious dash for freedom in police work and to Trudy, his wife. The senior Monks had been polite and disdainful. Police work was considered beneath their standards, barely acceptable. Trudy was a free lance writer, just a gypsy playing at being part of the intelligentsia. They had talked long and frequently how Adrian had abandoned his intellectual gifts for dubious reasons.

They would mournfully remind themselves that Julian had turned out fine and married properly. And at least Reagan was using his skills and education.

Damien had been born just a year after Adrian. He hated the Omen movie series for adding another layer of irritation to his stupid name. He had also tried to please, but not being as gifted as his brothers, fell short all the time. However, being fourth in line and being only a `good' student, he was more or less ignored. His parents had been a bit more lenient in their expectations of him. Of course, they had been horrified by his chosen occupation and had barely acknowledged his wife.

When the couple had had Kevin, they were polite, but unenthusiastic.

Two years after Damien's birth came Susan, the only girl. She was so much like her mother it was scary. She was a mathematics professor, Damien wasn't sure what kind. She was married to another mathematics professor and they had two children. Darren and Donna were four and
two.

When Damien had sent his parents, Julian and Susan, notification that he was moving back to San Francisco, Susan wrote back a note to inform him that she and her husband had decided that playing with their cousin, Kevin, would be a bad influence on their children. She went on to explain that they were concerned because of the environment the child was exposed to and didn`t approve of the way he was raising the child.

Damien had crumbled the note up and had not bothered to respond or to contact her or her rotten family.

Of all his siblings, Damien liked Adrian best. Despite everything, Adrian had always been kind and even warm to him. It had been Adrian, only fourteen months older than himself, who had comforted him when he cried because he was afraid of the dark, it had been Adrian who had given him the only hugs he had ever gotten as a child when he had disappointed his parents once again.

He had mourned for his brother and thought that he was lost forever. What a shock it was to find out that he was up and aware. The doctor had talked to him and given him the name of Adrian's attending doctor. He had learned while Adrian was indeed, up and aware, he was not back to normal. In fact normal was a good way off.

Julian went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottled water from the fridge. He didn't offer Damien one.

"What is it?"

Damien stood up and went over to pick up Kevin, "Come on Kev, let's go to Mickey D's and get some lunch." Damien looked back at his brother, "I just want Adrian's address and I left my new address on the table. I don't have a phone yet, when I do, I'll call."

Julian walked out of the room and returned with a neatly written address and phone number. "He's still out of it. He's like some weirdo or something. Like he was, only way worst. I saw him two months ago and I think he should still be institutionalized.

So far there haven't been any problems. Mom and Dad haven't seen him and Susan won't let her kids around him, so she hasn't seen him either."

"Have you let Ray know that he's aware now?"

"No, he wouldn't be interested, besides, Adrian can ask for the address if he wants it."

"But you said he wasn't…"

"He's not that far gone. He didn't ask for your address either."

"OK, thanks, we`re out of here."

Julian followed Damien to the front door, "Have you found a job?"

Damien smiled and turned around and made eye contact with his brother, "I don't have to find a job. I have to get busy and market some, but I'm all set up to work out of my house."

Julian scowled, "You can't make any money doing that kind of stuff."

Damien shifted Kevin to his other arm, "I can make enough. I just got my local license and I'm set to go. If you know anyone who wants a massage, let me know."

"My God, Damien! You've got a doctorate in English Literature! What the hell are you doing?"

"Living my life! I've got a child to raise and, this way, I can be at home with him. I don`t want to teach."

Kevin started to whimper because of the angry voices. Damien kissed his cheek, "It's Ok, Kev, it's Ok, everything's fine. Let's go eat!"

Kevin nodded and smiled. Julian put his hands on his hips, "Ok, Ok, just don't come round for money. Dad said you're wasting your education and he's right."

Damien opened the door, anxious to get out. He started out the door and called over his shoulder, "Don't worry. Later."

*************************

Leland's house

Leland woke up to the smell of coffee brewing along with a very pleasant discontinuous and off key female singing. That was nice, Peggy was…then he remembered, Sharona. He quickly looked at the clock; he had to pick up Peggy at nine-thirty. It was only seven.

Leland laid back and smiled, it had been a wonderful night, he hadn't felt so good in a very long time. He took a moment to enjoy it and then sort of jigged out of bed and headed to the shower.

********************

Damien called the number that was on the paper Julian had given him and was surprised when he heard the phone click over to a call forwarding number and a voice answer, "Treasure Trap Book Store, Michael here, can I help you?"

Damien hesitated for a second and then said, "Uh, I think I have a wrong number. I was calling for Adrian Monk."

Damien heard the caution in the voice, "No, you have the right number. Mr. Monk works here, but he's not here right now. Can I have you call him back?"

"Is he at home?"

"No."

Damien shifted his feet and watched Kevin as he was demolishing his 'happy meal'. "I don't have a number yet. We just got a place. I'm at a pay phone. I was given his home number and ended up with the bookstore. Is there another number I can call, or do you know when he'll be home?"

"May I ask who's calling?"

"I'm his brother, Damien. We just moved back from Phoenix."

Michael bit his lip. Adrian had never mentioned his family, strange that he had never noticed. No member of Adrian's family had ever visited, but he could not remember Brian saying anything bad about them.

"Adrian will be back around three, he had a doctor's appointment. Why don't you come over and wait for him."

"My son is just finishing his `happy meal' and is going to need to take a nap. We don't have a car yet, so we've got to catch a bus to get back to our place. Let him know I called and tell him I'll call in the morning."

"Where are you?"

"Sumerplace and Spence."

"That's only two miles away. Why don't I come get both of you? I've got a small studio apartment upstairs that I used to use. It's got a bed. Your son can catch a nap there. I'm sure Adrian will be thrilled to see you both. I can take you both home later. Where is your place?"

"I bought a house near Wilshire and Colfax."

"Great, that's less than four miles from our house."

Damien missed the reference to `our' house because he was slightly distracted by his son's antics.

"Thanks, how will we know you?"

"Just look for a man wearing a smock with floating pens, books and eye glasses all in muted shades of brown and blue."

Damien laughed, "Yeah, I guess we'll be able to spot you."

*******************

Michael O'Malley had indeed been easy to spot. Damien had been surprised to find that Mr. O'Malley had actually closed his bookstore to come get them. He had ripped off the small post it that informed potential customers of his return time and opened the door for them. There had been three customers waiting for his return, evidently used to his occasional disappearances.

Michael walked them over to the children's section and let Kevin pick out a book to take with him for his nap. The child was bouncing all over with excitement as he tried to pick a book. Michael bent down and asked, "Who are your favorite TV friends?"

Kevin looked at him and animatedly answered as he threw out his arms to emphasize what he was saying, "Big Bird, Bert and Ernie, and bestest of all, Barney!"

Michael smiled, "Here's a nice one about Barney having a wonderful adventure at a zoo. Do you like animals? Why don't you take this one, it has some really neat pictures. If you decide you don't like this one the best, you can look again and pick out another one, OK?"

Kevin smiled and nodded his head and clutched the book to his chest and looked at his father.

"Daddy, read!"

Damien picked Kevin up, book and all and looked questioningly at Michael. Michael turned around, "Right this way, follow me."

**************

The book read and Kevin asleep, Damien descended the stairs. Michael O'Malley was just finishing with a customer and glanced over at Damien. When he had finished he motioned Damien to come over and pulled out a chair behind the counter.

"Would you like anything to drink? Adrian should be here in about an hour. I can run you all back to the house after Kevin wakes up."

"Thank you."

Michael sat down and turned towards Damien, "I'm sorry, but I don't think Adrian has ever mentioned any of his family. He was a friend of my cousin, Brian, who was killed by a drunk driver three months ago. I met Adrian at his wake."

"I'm sorry about your cousin; my wife was killed two years ago by a drunk driver. Julian said he told Adrian about Jean when he regained consciousness."

"Oh, yeah, the brother, I remember Brian told me about him. Adrian was a bit out of it for the first couple of months, but Brian did make sure he knew. Brain told me that he had called your brother, Julian, for your address but I never heard any more about it."

Damien looked around at the bookstore. It was very pleasant, he liked the ambiance. "How is Adrian now? He works here?"

Michael looked down at his hands and then at Damien, he seemed very nice. "He has a severe case of a compulsive disorder. He has good days and then some days that are more challenging. He works here when he wants to; he also has done consulting on two major police homicide cases. He cracked the cases when nobody else could."

"I've read about Compulsive disorders. Adrian always had a touch of that, I think." Damien looked around again, "It was nice of you to let him work here."

Michael stood up, "He's been a wonderful help. He knows just what to order…" Michael turned his back and put his hands on his hips. He bent his head and then turned around and looked Damien in the eye, "We live together, we're lovers. If you have a problem with that, just be kind, visit with him and then leave."

Damien's eyes widened, "You're lovers?! How?! No! Forget I said that. You're both happy?"

"It works for us, yes, we're happy."

"Then, I'm happy too. I want Adrian happy. I knew that he …Then he lives at your house?"

Michael sat back down, "No, Brian left the house to Adrian, but Brian left the junk inside to me."

Damien chuckled, "Neat arrangement." Damien sobered, "None of the rest of the family knows, I take it. I think it would be better to leave it that way."

Michael's attention went to the door as his lover entered; he got up and rushed over. "Adrian, Adrian look who's here!"

Adrian looked in the direction that Michael pointed and a huge smile erupted on his face. "Damien." Then Adrian's face collapsed as he approached Damien, "I'm so sorry about Jean. I wanted to call or write, but somehow…I thought about you and Kevin…" A look of panic crossed Adrian's face, "Where's Kevin?"

Michael took Adrian's hand, "Upstairs, taking his nap with Barney and his Zoo Adventure."

Adrian grinned, "Six copies, 14.95 hardback, Dell Publishers."

Michael leaned over and gave Adrian a quick kiss on his cheek, "Go take your coat off. Be quiet and don't wake up Kevin. Would you like some hot tea, or would you like coco?"

"Marshmallows?" Adrian asked hopefully.

"Yup, got plenty of them."

"OK, coco."

Michael looked at the door, "Where's Sharona?"

Adrian was halfway to the back stairs, head bent unbuttoning his coat. "She's gone to shop. She'd feeding Leland and Peggy tonight at her house. Benji and Peggy will fight. It's hard when your parents look at each other more than they look at you."

Michael walked over to Adrian, "What? What are you saying? Did Sharona tell you?"

Adrian looked up and grinned at his lover, "No. But she never stopped talking about Leland. They had dinner, last night. I think they had sex too. She was way too hyper, she didn't even yell at me when I had to push all the elevator buttons."

At Michael's raised eyebrow, Adrian added, "I was just testing it. I wanted to take the stairs, but Sharona said she was not climbing stairs in new heels.

She was in a dress, a new one. She went shopping this morning, as soon as Stein Mart opened. She's going shopping again for food and more clothes. I think she's in love. This is good."

Michael smiled. Leland and Sharona! He shook his head slightly, "An unusual pair, she's a bit of a fire cracker for Leland, isn't she?"

"He needs a bit of a fire cracker, so does Peggy." With that, Adrian continued on his way. Michael turned back to the counter.

"Who are Sharona and Leland?"

Michael smiled, "Oh, Sharona is Adrian's nurse. She drives and helps out when he gets difficult. She helps around here too. She's great with the books. She has a ten year old boy named Benji.

Leland is Adrian's old police captain. He's the one who hires Adrian as a consultant. He's been a good friend. He's got a nine year old daughter named Peggy."

Michael busied himself making coco on the small hot plate behind the counter, "Can I get you a mug?"

Damien nodded, "Sure, sounds good." He turned his head to see Adrian descend the stairs wearing an identical smock to Michael's, ah love. Damien smiled.

Part 18

Adrian lifted his cocoa mug and sipped the cocoa gratefully. He peeked over the top of the mug to make sure that Damian was still there. It was wonderful to see him. He had to keep reassuring himself that Damian was really here. He was and so was Kevin.

He had watched Kevin sleep for a minute before he started getting anxious. The little boy had been sucking his thumb in his sleep and Adrian had started to freak a bit.

Little Kevin looked just like Damian when he had been small. The boy was so sweet, so… Adrian frowned, and set his mug down.

"Damian, ah, Kevin looks like he's a wonderful little boy…but…I have…" Adrian looked pleadingly over at Michael and then back at Damian. His heart sank at the expression on Damian's face, disappointment fighting with resentment at the implied rejection.

"I'm sorry…" Adrian turned, feeling the growing need to straighten up the children's section growing. He knew in a minute that he wouldn't be able to think of anything else. He could feel himself starting to panic. Suddenly he felt Michael's hands on his shoulders and heard his voice and after a few moments was able to separate the words.

"Adrian! Adrian, focus. Look at me. Come on, Adrian, look at me."

Adrian began to feel Michael's hands as Michael cupped his face. He relaxed, Michael was here and everything was safe.

Michael, seeing that Adrian had returned and was grounded turned to Damian whose emerging anger had turned to concern as he watched Adrian. It had scared him and he looked at Michael for some explanation.

"It's alright, Damian. Adrian was just upset because he knows that he can't handle kids too well, especially little ones who by nature are enthusiastic explorers wreaking a trail of havoc behind, as well as being a bit grubby, a bit loud and a bit unhygienic. Adrian get nervous about germs and dirt and snot and sticky fingers and…"

A grin was forced out of Adrian, "I'm uncomfortable with a lot of stuff." Michael gave his shoulders a quick hug and then took his hand and held it. Adrian sought out Damian's eyes in an effort to make him understand. "Kevin might think I don't like him. I don't react well…I have problems…I…I"

Michael pulled Adrian closer to him, "Shush, it's OK. You're alright with Benji and Peggy and in time you'll be alright with Kevin too. Right now, you'll have to try to make another exception. Ah…I know, I'm you're geranium then maybe Kevin can be your daisy! I like that, what do you think?"

"I don't know…if I can."

"We'll try, for Kevin, for Damian, OK?"

"OK."

Adrian picked up his mug and wandered away towards the children's section.

Damian worriedly glanced over to Michael, "He's worse than I thought."

"He's improving all the time. Just be patient with him. You probably won't be able to chat with him until tomorrow. He's never at his best on the days he goes to the doctor, I guess there's too much to process. Right now he's putting the children's section in order and he's figuring out how to make Kevin an exception."

"An exception?"

"Yeah, an exception to all his neurotic reactions. He decided that I was his exception…it's the reason we're able to touch each other…love each other. It worked."

Damian sipped his now tepid cocoa and studied Michael. Was the man for real? Adrian was obviously fragile. What was this man's motivation? Was he some sort of control freak nurturer?

"Our brother, Julian, thinks Adrian should be living in an assisted care facility."

Michael looked over at Damian, recognizing the challenge. "Adrian doesn't need that. He's got me. I take care of him and he takes care of me." At Damian's skeptical look, Michael continued, "I have…issues…because of a past traumatic incident. Adrian understands and is able to…he takes care of me when I need to be taken care of. We love each other."

Damian relented and sighed, "Sorry, it's just…well, anyway, I'm glad for Adrian." He glanced at the stairs leading to the upstairs. "I'll go get Kevin and come back tomorrow."

Michael nodded, "I'll take you both home. Please do come back. Did you see Adrian's face when he saw you? He loves you."

Damian looked over to where Adrian was industrially reshelving books. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not about to abandon him after getting him back. I guess we'll just have to figure it out."

Damian walked over to Adrian, "Adrian, Adrian, Kevin and I are going home now. We'll come back tomorrow and see you, OK?"

Adrian never looked at him, "Three damaged books. Four ninety-five, three ninety-five and twelve ninety-nine. Donate them to the Children's Home. I can fix them so they don't look damaged at all, but we can't sell them like that."

"I'm so glad you came back to us, Adrian. I missed you."

Adrian stopped, stood still and closed his eyes, "Thank you. I…I want to see you…you and Kevin…I…"

"I'll see you tomorrow, Adrian it will be OK. Do you still play scrabble?"

Adrian still had his eyes closed and was standing stiffly, but a grin crept across his mouth. "Better than you."

Damian smiled, reassured that a hint of the Adrian he knew had peaked out momentarily, "We'll see, Adrian, we'll see. Goodbye for now, be back tomorrow, after three."

"Bye."

Damian turned and was surprised to see his son in Michael's arms. He had been coated and caped and was all set for the cold. Kevin held his new treasure close to his chest, anchored by his mitten sheaved hands.

Damian took Kevin and turned towards Adrian. "See that man over there? Well, that your uncle Adrian. He's busy now, so we'll talk to him tomorrow. He's a very special uncle and I'll tell you some stories about him later, OK?"

"OK."

"Now just use your outside voice and tell Uncle Adrian good-bye."

"Unkee Adian, bye bye!"

Adrian lifted up an arm and called out "Bye bye", but never looked.

Michael, Damian and Kevin started towards the door. Michael called over his shoulder, "Monkey, I'm dropping them off, I'll be back in around twenty minutes."

"Bye bye."

*********************

Later that evening

Damian and Kevin were snuggled under the covers. Kevin was giggling and Damian was smiling. "Ok, Ok, let's settle down and I'll read you your Barney book again."

Kevin sat up in bed and clasped both hands over his mouth as his eyes twinkled at his father. Damian laughed and sat up and took the book and opened to the first page and then closed it slowly. "Did you like the bookstore?"

Kevin put down his hands and pointed to the book in his father's lap. "Barney book!"

Damian nodded and smiled, "Yes, your Barney book came from there. Michael helped pick it out."

"Uncle Micheeel!"

Damian was about to correct him, but thought better of it. Let it be for now. "And Uncle Adrian."

Kevin nodded his head, anxious to agree and leaned over to open the book for his father who seemed to forget how to do it.

"Just a minute! Let me tell you about Uncle Adrian and then I'll read, OK?"

"OK."

"Uncle Adrian is…well he's sort of broken."

Kevin's eyebrows shot up and then he shook his head. "No, people not broken, toys broken, my bowl broken…real big broken."

"Well, people can be damaged, and it's kind of like being broken. Uncle Adrian has a doctor who is trying to fix him and Uncle Michael helps too.

It's just that, sometimes when people or things get broken, they can't be fixed quickly and sometimes not at all."

"Unclee Adian going to sleep like Sparkle? Are we going to dig a hole and put him under…do we gots a tree here? Oh! We forget to bring Sparkle!"

"Hey, Kev, it's OK. Sparkle wouldn't have wanted to leave his tree anyway. He really lives in your head now, in your memories. OK?"

"OK."

"And no, Uncle Adrian is not going to die, go to sleep like Sparkle. It's just that he acts a bit different some times and it might make you think he's not nice."

"Why?"

"He acts different sometimes because he gets scared. He's afraid of lots of things, like bugs, and germs and dirt and…"

"Monsters? I'm afraid of monsters."

"Maybe monsters too."

"Read Daddy."

"OK."

"OK."

***********************

Michael had dozed off in front of the TV and had been violently awakened by a loud crash in the kitchen. He bolted up and raced to see what the matter was. Adrian was having what appeared to be a good old fashioned temper tantrum.

"Woe, hold on. Adrian? What's the matter baby?"

Adrian looked up at Michael, shamefaced and suddenly spent. He sat down on the floor and looked around to the small amount of displaced pans. They were clean and he was going to put them away when he thought about Julian. Julian hadn't told Damian that He was back. Had
he told Reagan? Probably not! He had started throwing pans. It had felt incredibly good to hear them crash. Now he was numbly staring at them and starting to worry about how he might have damaged them and feeling the need to put them away.

Michael let him sit as he gathered up the pans and put them back in the dishwasher and got it going again. "Baby, what was that about?"

"Julian."

"You're upset that he didn't notify Damian?"

"Yes. Maybe Reagan, maybe Susan too."

"Call him up and tell him off."

"OK."

Michael watched in amazement as Adrian crossed over into the dining room and picked up the handset. He dialed and then in a dark and serious voice started talking.

"Julian, you supercilious asshole, you arrogant prick! How dare you not tell Damian that I was awake. Did you tell Reagan? How about Susan?"

After a pause, Adrian closed his eyes, his parents and his sister didn't want to see him, no real big surprise there, but Reagan…

"Give me Reagan's number, or else I'll call Father and tell you told me to."

Adrian shifted his weight on the balls of his feet as he listened to Julian, then without another word he put down the phone. There was really nothing more to say.

He picked up the phone and dialed again, "Hello, Reagan? Hi, it's me, Adrian."

******************************

Julian put down the phone. He had been angry at first, but Adrian had sounded good. He sounded coherent and he was royally pissed off. All good healthy signs. Could it be possible? Could he be getting better?

************************

Hawaii, the Big Island

Reagan, AKA Ray, swore as he reached for the phone, what idiot would call him after he had been out in the field for sixteen hours? No one that valued their lives, that was for sure!"

Part 19

Honolulu International Airport
5 AM

Ray handed his Starbuck's card to the young girl at the counter and looked around, hoping to see Bobby. His plane left in twenty minutes. Bobby and him were cautiously moving towards a relationship. Both of them had been burned and both of them were getting tired of the club
scene. Was it love or just burnout? They were both trying to figure it out.

Bobby lived on Oahu in a small town named Aeia. Aeia was ten miles inland and high up in the hills. Out of Bobby's apartment's living room window he had a view of Tripler Army Medical Center, a pink eight-story monster of a building nestled in the green hills. It changed color throughout the day as the light changed.

Further on was Punchbowl and then Diamond Head and finally you could see the ocean. Ray never got tired of looking out that window.

Bobby shared a small open front nook on Queen Street in Honolulu where he sold his wares. He crafted and designed jewelry.

They had met at a bar and had let the chemistry and the music take them into what they thought was a one-time thing. Up against a wall in the back alley. However later, they started to notice each other once in a while, and then, one night, they started talking.

Ray spent most of his time on the Big Island for work, but started spending all his off time on Oahu hoping to catch a glimpse of Bobby. Once they started talking, they slowly moved on and away from the clubs.

At first they met for coffee at Starbuck's and then they started meeting for diner and an evening out ending up at Bobby's place. Once they started having sex, they danced around the issue of exclusivity, finally agreeing to it out of a concern for safety. Each of them carefully avoiding any mention of commitment, though each had yearned for it.

He had left a message on Bobby's machine; they were supposed to go to Maui for the weekend. Bobby would not be happy about the cancellation, but… "What?"

"Here's your order, Grande House De-caf-no room."

"Thanks."

Ray took his coffee and headed for his gate, he'd try to call once more before he boarded the plane. He took one last look before he passed through security. He had so hoped that Bobby would get his message and come and see him off. He had to go, but he didn't feel good about leaving Bobby behind for even a week. God, he was going to miss him.

Ray walked down the long corridor, preoccupied with thoughts of Bobby and nearly chocked on his coffee when the object of his musings was unexpectedly present as he turned into the boarding area.

"Bobby! Bobby! What are you doing here?"

Bobby looked up from his book and smiled, "Waiting for you. I decided to go with you. One of the perks of working for yourself. Do you realize that you filled up four of my message tapes? It wasn't until the very last one that you remembered to give your flight time and destination…I had to find out the airline by myself…wasn't hard, but at least you could have saved me the trouble."

Ray was smiling; he loved it when Bobby would rattle on. He was so handsome! Bobby was slightly built, only five foot four, but perfectly per proportioned. This was perfect. Ray was barely five-seven and was the shortest of the Monk brothers. In Hawaii, he seldom felt short. For some reason, he had stopped growing at thirteen.

Bobby's skin was smooth and soft and a delicious golden brown. His features were sharp, but softened by a generous and full lipped mouth that usually was smiling. His hair was longish and raven black, but the rest of his body was nearly hairless, a legacy from his Filipino heritage. Bobby was a mix, half Island Filipino and Portuguese, two of the eight major ethnic groups that made up the islands' population.

Bobby raised an ebony eyebrow and patted the seat next to him, "Come on sit down and tell me why you have this sudden urge to reunite with siblings that you have never I repeat, never, mentioned in the full six months we've been going steady."

Ray chuckled and offered Bobby a sip of his coffee, "At three AM this morning I got a call from one of my younger brothers, Adrian, it was quite a surprise."

"Besides the ridiculous hour, why such a surprise?"

Ray leaned towards Bobby, "Because three years ago or so Adrian's wife was blown up by a car bomb meant for Adrian. Adrian was a Homicide Detective. Well, he went to pieces and ended up comatose. He was put in an extended care facility and everyone, including me, wrote him off.

Turns out, he came out of it about five months ago. Julian, my older brother, failed to mention it. Adrian didn't contact me because, at first he couldn't and later, he thought that I didn't want to see him."

"Why would he think that?"

"It's sort of how some of my family is. He said my sister and our parents won't see him. Well, anyway, my other younger brother, Damian, just moved back from Phoenix and he wasn't told either. He went looking for him at the care facility."

"So you're going to see your brothers, Adrian, Damian and Julian? Good God, how did you end up as Ray?"

"By choice, actually it's Reagan. Yes, I'm going to see Adrian and Damian, I'm not too sure about Julian. But there's more. Damian has a son named Kevin and Adrian has a lover named Michael."

Bobby's eyebrows lifted with interest, "Are you saying…?"

Ray nodded his head, "Yes, I nearly fainted! I never knew, but Adrian said he has always been bi-sexual. I didn't tell him about me. I planned to do that when I see him.

He says he's still has some problems and that he's under a doctor's care, but he sounded fine. He`s always been a bit strange. He was always so smart, I always thought he was too smart to be normal. I thought maybe he was a little autistic. He would fade out once in a while and retain weird trivia, be a bit particular on how things had to be arranged, but it lasted.

I never got to know him too well, by the time I was thirteen, I was ducking for cover and stayed away as long as I could. He was about nine then and thirteen or so when I left for college."

"Did you tell him you're coming?"

"I didn't know myself when I talked to him, but I have to go. I have to reconnect with them, not that the connection was ever close. Our parents didn't encourage that but I want to try. It`s the classic second chance, I don`t want to blow it off."

Bobby took one of Ray's hands and squeezed it quickly, "I understand, it's a chance to have a bit of family and based on honesty. I hope it works the way you hope."

"I think it will be alright with Adrian and Damian, the others, I would not even try."

Bobby turned his head and sought out something to look at, anything except Ray's face and the eyes that might not have the answer he wanted. "Is this OK with you? Me coming, I mean. Am I presuming too much?"

Ray leaned close and whispered in Bobby's ear, "I didn't presume enough, I should have asked you. I was scared, we've got to stop doing this to each other. Let's talk and mark out some new
understandings. Things we're both willing to expect from each other."

Bobby could feel his eyes fill up, damn. He couldn't speak, so he just nodded his head.

**********************

Oakland
Julian and Karen Monk's house
7 AM

"Karen, I'm telling you, he sounded sane."

"Adrian was never sane, even before he got committed. God, Julian, he was a cop who got his wife murdered, blown up in their driveway! I won't associate with such a person."

Julian emerged from their bathroom with dual vanities and looked at his wife, she was right but Adrian kept getting his name in the paper.

"I need to see him, maybe I can get him to stay out of police work. I don't like his name popping up in the newspapers and on TV. I thought they were just using him as some kind of shield for what they were really doing. But I guess he's really doing consulting work for the
police."

Karen stood up, she was a tall, thin woman who was not pretty, but perfectly groomed. She had definite opinions about everything and to her, her own opinions were the only ones that mattered. She considered most people idiots.

Karen looked at her husband. Julian was the perfect husband most of the time. He didn't demand emotional closeness, the sex was passable and an occasional affair was tolerated as long as it was discreet. His biggest problem was his family.

His parents were fine. They kept their distance. Susan and Mark were fine, they kept their distance too. But the brothers! All losers. She didn't want anything to do with them.

"Let your father deal with him. Keep your hands clean. We certainly don't tell anybody that you're related to him, so why get involved?"

Julian shrugged, "Because Damian's back and he's going to see Adrian. He was over yesterday morning with Kevin."

"Kevin?"

"His three year old son."

"I don't want a child here. We're not set up for it."

"I don't think he'll be back, but he's setting up shop as a massage therapist."

"Good Lord! Can your father do something about that?"

"I'll call him tonight."

*******************

Adrian and Michael's home
7 AM

"I've got the coffee brewing and cinnamon rolls in the oven, don't take too long brushing your teeth, you'll just have to do them again after you eat."

Michael heard a muffled "OK" through the bathroom door.

Five minutes later Adrian entered the kitchen and sat down, "Are they your homemade cinnamon rolls or the store kind?"

Michael bent to open the oven door, "Homemade, of course! Nothing but, since you can actually tell the difference."

Michael took out the tray, "Monkey, can you set the plates? I already got the mugs out."

"Sure. I did five."

"What?"

"Don't be coy. You were dying to ask. I did five."

"Not exactly dying, but yeah, I was wondering. Five is a bit much don't you think?"

"Maybe, but I'm a bit nervous and I guess a bit angry."

Michael brought over the tray and set it on the table. He turned around and poured the coffee and said, "Julian again?"

Adrian shook his head, "No, I want to be normal. I don`t want to have to worry that I'll freak out in front of Kevin. He's so little and sweet. Damn it! I want to be able to enjoy being with my brother and nephew without…without…"

Michael put his arms around Adrian and kissed him on the cheek. "I know, baby, I know."

Adrian sought out Michael's eyes with his own, "I know you do. I love you."

Michael nodded and let go, "Let's eat these before they get cold. We've got a shipment coming in this morning."

Adrian smiled and reached for a roll, "Eight complete sets of Diana Gabaldon plus three copies of The Outlandish Companion. Should we put them under science fiction or just fiction? You had them in the fiction section, but the heroine travels through time. She falls through a rock."

"A rock?"

"Yeah, she falls through a rock in a stone circle, you know, the kind that are all over Europe."

"Why don't we put copies in both sections? I put it in fiction because that's where I found them at Changing Hands on Claremont."

Adrian nodded his head, "OK."

"Ten copies of…"

Michael smiled, he loved this. He knew Adrian would walk him through the entire shipment. Why he enjoyed this so much, he didn't know, but it was one of the ways they shared, one of the ways they connected. Michael thought it was one of the nicest bits. It filled a need in him that he couldn't even name.

It was so wonderful to share a few moments of companionship centered on his beloved books for his dream book shop with a lover who was becoming more and more precious every day, he listened to Adrian's voice and felt his heart swell with joy.

END PART 19

(Thanks to Bertina for her great beta!!)