Chapter Text
It all started with that plane ride. Monk, Sharona, Stottlemeyer, and Randy were headed from San Francisco to New York City, where they hoped to get more information about Trudy’s murder after Dale the Whale gave them a name, so they finally had a lead to follow.
They had all met at the airport; Sharona and Monk arrived first, waiting for the two police officers. Mr. Monk was sporting his usual brown suit, Shirt Nr. 3., and a tie; while Sharona was wearing a knitted pink sweater with a satin bow on the back, a pair of black pants, and hoop earrings. Her look was completed with her signature baby blue eyeshadow. She left her heels in her suitcase to wear when they arrived; for the flight, she was wearing a pair of white sneakers. While waiting, she absentmindedly swept some of her wild blond curls out of her face, and secured them with a claw clip.
She spotted the two men in the crowd. She waved at them as they made their way toward Monk and Sharona. The captain was professional-looking as always; wearing a gray suit with a white shirt and a red tie. Randy was dressed more comfortably; he was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a simple blue T-shirt. He also had a baseball cap on.
He looked good, Sharona noted to herself. It was not often that Randy could be seen wearing anything other than a suit, shirt, and tie. This way, he looked more… approachable. Someone she could actually see herself hang out with, maybe even be friends.
“Lieutenant,” she greeted him. Randy loved it when she called him that.
“Sharona, Monk,” he said. “May I?”
Then, maybe with a little bit too much enthusiasm, without even waiting for her answer, he reached for Sharona’s suitcase, taking it from the woman, and made his way to the check-in desk. The others followed, and they all checked in. After successfully going through security and finding the right gate to board their flight, they were all ready to take off.
Of course, Adrian made a fuss about almost everything about the flight: he didn’t like his seat, he was worried about how his meat, potatoes, and veggies would be on the same plate, and he was freaking out about the cleanliness of the plane.
It was going to be the longest six hours of Sharona’s life. Not only was she sat next to Monk; on her other side there was Randy. Randy, who would probably not leave her alone during the whole flight. Hitting her up with his “fun” facts, his silly theories, or his witty remarks (at least he thought they were witty). Sharona was already rolling her eyes without him even saying a word.
Randy definitely noticed the eyeroll. He was wondering what he did wrong now. If only she knew…
He could not really remember when and how, but he had fallen for her, hard. He loved the way Sharona talked about Benjy, how she would always stand up for Monk, or anybody who could not stand up for themselves. He would never have admitted it, but he thought she was also a good detective in her own right: there have been many instances where they could not have solved the case without her.
And oh, that banter. Sure, she constantly rolled her eyes at him, and came at him with some silly remark about his appearance, his work, or his current girlfriend. He couldn’t help but ask himself… Could it have been jealousy? Could it be that Sharona actually liked him?
She was not too lucky with men; she married that deadbeat asshole at a young age, had Benjy, and tried really hard ever since to find a man who would accept her and her son. To have a family. And Randy hated how these men turned out to be. Trying to take advantage of her sweet heart, only seeing the walls she built around herself: the way she carried herself, the way she always seemed so confident, sometimes even arrogant. It seemed like they saw her as a challenge and wanted to break her. And each time, they did, a little bit. He hated to see the way men treated her; and, even though she tried really hard not to show it, they all took a piece out of her.
But she was perfect. In every way. She didn’t need to change for people to like her. For him to love her.
To someone who didn’t know them, it might have seemed like Randy and her were always arguing. Like he was just one of those men. But it wasn’t that; it was more like an inside joke between the two of them. A secret game only they knew how to play. It was borderline (or downright?) flirty. Like an old married couple. Something Randy wished they would be one day. He could have listened to Sharona’s zingers all day, everyday.
“So, do you have any plans when we finish in New York? Are you gonna see family in New Jersey? Or, you know, your ex-husband, maybe?”
What the hell, why did he ask that?
“That jerk,” Sharona scoffed. “After what he pulled the last time he visited us, he can be glad I still speak to him.”
“Sorry,” Randy said, somewhat relieved. He should have shut up but he couldn’t help continuing. “I would have hated for him to have taken you away from… us.”
“Oh yeah?” Sharona asked with a cocky grin.
“I meant… You know… The thing is… Oh look!” He pointed at nothing through the small window of the plane. Yep, now it was time to change the subject, Randy thought. Sharona was still smiling. He was sweet, all flushed. She had his number.
“So… What do you think? Did Dale the whale tell the truth? Are we gonna find something in New York?”
“God, I hope so. Adrian’s really beating himself up over Trudy’s death being the only case he couldn’t solve yet. It hurts me to see him so… wounded, you know.”
“Yeah… He’s come such a long way, you can be proud of him,” Randy said. “And yourself. You’re really good for him,” he added.
“I’m telling you though, if that fat bastard lied, I’ll knock his teeth down his throat myself.”
Randy swallowed. She was so feisty. So passionate. Always ready to fight for those she loved. That’s what made Randy fall for her in the first place. And now his thoughts were racing again, trying to imagine what it would be like to be in a relationship with her. He would never be bored again, not for one minute. “Let’s not go there. Quick, think of something else. Anything else,” he thought to himself.
“Um… Can I ask you something? What was he like, you know, when Trudy…”
“Ah. He was a mess, I’m telling you. It was really hard to watch. Never smiled, never left the house. He could barely talk. He couldn’t even trust me in the first year or so. He was scared that I would leave him too.”
“You brought him back. He’s functioning. Working again.”
“Yeah… I’m scared for him though. Whenever the Trudy case comes up, he starts reverting to his old way. I hope this New York thing will lead us somewhere… If not…”
“Sharona,” Randy interjected. She looked at him with those big blue eyes. “It’s okay. You’re not gonna have to start from scratch now. You have something you didn’t have last time.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have me.”
Sharona’s eyebrows went up.
“I-I-I mean, me and the captain,” he said, panicked. “We’re gonna do whatever it takes to help you.”
The thing is though, he meant it. She had him. Randy wished she had known just how much she meant to him.
“Thanks, Randy,” she said softly.
There was something about him. Sharona couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew that he was more than meets the eye. Sure, he was goofy and seemed shallow at times; but he had a strong sense of justice, and was enthusiastic about his job, even passionate. She never failed to notice the twinkle in his eyes when he started going off on one of his segues, or when there was a chance to bring someone to justice.
Sometimes she caught herself thinking about him and wondering what he might be outside of work. Did he have the same passion when it came to his hobbies? What about relationships? How did that passion manifest when it came to sex…? Was Randy the “slow, deep kisses, discovering his lover’s body inch by inch until she begs for release” kind? Or if it came to it, would he just rip her clothes off and… Sharona always stopped herself there.
Also, Sharona had had her own little theory for a while about the man. He was desperately craving attention, she thought. He was smarter than anyone made him out to be. She knew this—when they were not going at each other with their banter, they actually had really pleasant conversations. They made her feel good. Feel seen. He had a certain knack when it came to talking to others; that was probably one of the reasons that Randy was actually a pretty good fit for a police officer. And Sharona was always too busy rolling her eyes at him, and coming up with her clever (and fun, and silly, and… were they… flirty?) responses to his remarks, so she didn’t notice that Randy Disher had the same passion, the same twinkle in his eyes when he looked at her.
She thought about him more than she cared to admit. What she also did notice was that Randy had good ideas, and he had his moments where he could shine—and he really wanted the world to see and recognize him for what he is: a good cop. All he wanted was for someone to notice that, which was hard enough with Monk always being around and stealing the spotlight. And even when Mr. Monk didn’t get all the attention, people tended to recognize and thank Captain Stottlemeyer for his hard work.
And with that thought, she drifted off to sleep with her head on Randy’s shoulder. He didn’t mind. He shifted a little bit so she would be comfortable. Her hair smelled like vanilla.
Yes, Randy wanted someone to notice that alright. Not just anyone. Sure, he wished to excel at work as a police officer, and would have loved for his colleagues to appreciate his wit, his ideas, his detective work. But part of him wanted to impress her. The single mom from New Jersey who loved her son so much; the “petite blonde with no-nonsense attitude;” the not-beautiful-in-the-traditional-sense-but-her-smile-could-light-up-a-city Sharona Fleming, who always held her head high, took no shit from anyone, and could make anyone feel better in an instant by just being there and listening. He wanted her to know that Randy Disher was so much more than a mediocre cop.