A new Fanfic Sampler™ for all you Monk fans (c'mon, there have to be a few!)

[thatcrazycajun]

The now-ended USA Network series Monk has been a favorite of mine almost since it began in the early Naughts, even though mystery is usually not a genre that interests me all that much in books, films or TV. This is largely because of the main character (with whom I identify probably way more than is good for me) and the amazing performance of the actor who portrayed him: Tony Shalhoub, who first came to my attention in the painfully-accurate Disney fandom spoof GalaxyQuest, and has since rightly earned an Emmy® Award for his work in this show. (And if you haven't seen it, good God almighty, go rent a DVD or stream of it somewhere already; you're missing out on some damn good viewing.)

What follows back of the cut is a short-short I wrote of a scene that never happened in the show, but damned well ought to have: the defective detective being honored at an official ceremony for his work by his city's then real-life mayor (who turned up in the show and got just as peeved at Monk as nearly every real-life celebrity he encountered, much like Dr. Sheldon Cooper later on in The Big Bang Theory...except Monk's not nearly as obnoxious). Let me know what you think.

Mr. Monk and the Medal of Honor
"And now," Stottlemeyer said, "it gives me great pleasure to introduce my ultimate boss, the mayor of our fair city, the honorable Mr. Gavin Newsome, who has a few words to say to my friend Adrian." He stepped back from the podium and applauded with the rest of the assembled people as the mayor strode up to take Stottlemeyer's place.

"Thank you all very much," Newsome began, taking out a sheet of paper and laying it on the podium before him, only occasionally glancing down at it as he spoke. "This is a humbling day for me. We are here to honor one of San Francisco's finest, both in and out of uniform—Adrian Charles Monk, licensed private investigator; consultant to, and veteran of, the San Francisco Police Department; champion of law and order and public safety; and genuine hero of this city.

"For those of you who might recognize him and wonder why we should be so honoring him, consider for a moment what Adrian Monk has to go through just to make it out the door of his apartment each day, let alone to hold down a job or provide for himself: terror of germs, of weather, of heights, of death, of animals, of other people, of the chaos most of us take for granted as a necessary evil in the world. A truly daunting set of fears and anxieties and compulsions that would cripple most of us if we had to endure them at the level he does.

"Now add on top of that the loss of the love of his life, his beloved wife Trudy, at far too young an age…and on top of that, that loss being due to the heartless act of a murderer who has eluded even his amazing skills for years now. Then on top of that, being discharged from our police force for a perfectly understandable difficulty in dealing with the emotional toll that loss took. And to top it all off, the disdain at best and outright hatred at worst of a general public who are, with sadly few exceptions—even today, in 21st-century America—still not at all ready to treat even the mildest of mental health issues with the seriousness and compassion they deserve." He looked abashed as he paused and looked at the audience soberly, then went on. "It shames me to admit that I myself have, on occasion, let my annoyance and frustration at things Adrian could not help cause me to treat him badly as well…and added to the ostracism, bullying, ridicule and practical joking that he has had to endure since childhood.

"Given all this, it would have been easy enough and understandable enough for him to lock himself away in his home for the rest of his natural life, dealing with the rest of us only through the telephone or the computer or the mail, and only when absolutely necessary; to turn his back on a world that relentlessly, almost universally disrespects and devalues him.

"But very fortunately for us all, it turns out that Adrian Monk is made of sterner stuff than that, of more generous, forgiving, courageous stuff. Not only has he not turned away and inward, he stands and fights those demons every single day not only to function in the world, but to help others and save lives—sometimes even at the risk of his own. He has turned those idiosyncrasies of his that so many of us see as irritations or weaknesses into amazing strengths: his uncanny eye for detail; his vivid imagination; his impressive intellect; his vast, wide-ranging store of esoteric knowledge; and his refusal to leave even the smallest stone unturned.

"And he uses these strengths to aid our law enforcement agencies in solving crimes, crimes that have left even our city's best police officers and private investigators utterly stumped and thwarted. And because of those strengths, and that courage, and that forgiveness, today no less than one hundred and forty-three murderers, thieves, rapists, con artists and other wrongdoers who might have otherwise escaped justice are behind bars where they belong…and this city that we all love is that much safer. more just and more pleasant a place in which to live because of his efforts." The audience applauded.

"And so today, I am here in my official capacity as mayor of this great city to do two things for Adrian Monk: first, to humbly and sincerely apologize to him for the shameful, unjust mistreatment to which I and too many others of us have needlessly subjected him over the years; and second, to give him hard-earned, richly deserved, long-overdue recognition for his unique and invaluable contribution to the welfare of our city and its people. In addition to presenting him with this framed citation and medal," and he gestured to a large framed document on an easel nearby, "I am hereby declaring today, and every October 17th from now on, to be officially 'Adrian Monk Day' in the city of San Francisco." Again applause rippled through the crowd.

Newsome reached into a pocket of his jacket and brought out two rubber gloves, which he proceeded to don, and a small plastic box, which he laid on the podium top. "And if he will do me the great kindness of coming up to join me at this podium, I stand here before you all, the world and God, with sterile rubber gloves on and sanitary wipes at the ready—" and here the audience laughed, "—to shake his hand and say a heartfelt 'thank you' on behalf of all his fellow San Franciscans. To say for all the world to hear, 'Thank God for Adrian Monk!' To say how proud and happy I am that, among all the many blessings our city enjoys that no other city in the world can boast, we have the world's best and most successful consulting detective—a real-life Sherlock Holmes, looking out for all of us." He turned and looked at Monk as the audience applauded again, louder than ever. "Adrian, how about it?" he said, smiling and holding out one gloved hand palm up in Monk's direction.

Monk hesitated. Seated next to him, Natalie nudged him gently. "Go on, Mr. Monk, you can do this. It's perfectly safe."

"I know, I know," Monk said. "It's just…I—" He seemed on the verge of tears. His shoulders were heaving.

"I'll go with you if you need me to," Natalie said gently. Monk nodded and finally stood up, Natalie rising behind him as he began to make his way to the podium. Gingerly, he took Newsome's hand, and that worthy shook it gently as flashbulbs popped and cameras whirred and clicked. Monk took the hand that Newsome had shaken and swung it to his left, where Natalie dutifully and unobtrusively placed a wipe in it, smiling with great fondness in her face.

Newsome handed him a leather-covered box about the size of a paperback book. "I'd love to hang this medal around your neck, but I know you don't like having any more physical contact than necessary. But I promise this box is sanitized for your protection." The audience laughed again as Monk hesitated, then back off as Natalie stepped in and took the box for him. Then Newsome gestured to the podium and said, "Is there anything you'd like to say, Adrian?"

Monk took the podium and sniffled, taking the wipe Natalie had given him and using it first on his hands, then his nose, then the microphone mounted on the podium. "Um…I…I don't know what to say, really. Nobody's ever done anything like this for me before, or said such nice things about me."

"A good start might be 'Thank you, Mr. Mayor,'" Natalie whispered from behind him into his right ear.

"Oh. Yes, of course. Uh, thank you very much, Mr. Mayor, for this…um, recognition. And I do appreciate the apology and the medal and all…but to be honest, I never did any of this for awards or applause. I did it because I felt like I had to…because somebody has to. There's just too much chaos and disorder in the world…and if we can fix any of it, even a little, I feel like each of us has a moral obligation to at least try." His face sobered. "And I do it for Trudy…for her memory. I feel like even if I can't find the person who took her from me, if I can help other victims of crime by doing what I know how to do, then maybe that makes it easier to deal with…until the day I do finally find her killer—and I will." His expression became one of grim determination for a moment, then softened.

"And I couldn't do any of this without the help of some very dear friends: Captain Stottlemeyer, of course," he said, looking over at the latter, who smiled and nodded back. "Lieutenant Disher, and everybody at the Homicide Division; my late therapist, Dr. Charles Kroger, who was so patient with me over the years, and who I wish could have been here today to see this; the guy at the Starbucks shop on Fremont Street who always makes my triple mocha decaf latte just the way I like it; and my assistants: the lady behind me, Natalie Teeger…and her predecessor, Sharona Fleming, who has been kind enough to join us today as well." He looked out over the audience until he found the familiar tight blonde curls of Sharona's head, about six rows back from the stage and two seats in from the side on his left. She looked up at him and smiled back, looking a little startled that Monk had noticed her, as those around her applauded. "And if any of you want to honor me today, please, just do what you can to make this city and this world a little safer, a little cleaner and more orderly. If you see something out of place, put it back where it belongs…especially litter. If you see something broken or unsafe, like a burned-out light bulb or something, fix it or replace it. And if you see someone who looks like they might be kind of like me, try to be nice to them and patient with them if you can. That's all. Thank you."

The audience applauded as he stepped away from the podium and turned to Natalie and Stottlemeyer, who clapped him on the back. "Good job, Adrian," the captain said. "Like the man said, be brief, be clear and be seated."

"Actually, it was 'Be sincere, be brief and be seated,'" Monk pointed out. "Franklin Roosevelt, I believe it was."

Stottlemeyer clamped down hard on the impulse to be irritated, sighed and just nodded for the sake of not spoiling his friend's special day. "Whatever you say, Adrian," he said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

END

Comments

[kitanzi.livejournal.com]

Awww! :)

[hitchhiker.livejournal.com]

great story :) also, i love tony shalhoub too! did you ever see him in "stark raving mad"?

[hitchhiker.livejournal.com]

(as for monk, i watched a few eps and then i saw the one where the victim was dragged to death behind a car, which kind of crossed my limit for what i wanted to see happening on screen and put me off the show a bit. should pick it up again one of these days)