FIC (repost): Magic - Monk, Monk/Stottlemeyer
Title: Magic
Pairing: Monk/Stottlemeyer
Rating: PG
Word count: ~450
Spoilers: 4x01 - "Mr. Monk and the Other Detective"
Other formats: AO3
Disclaimer: This is an amateur, not-for-profit work of fiction. No attempt has been made to copyright characters and/or concepts owned by the Monk people, nor is any infringement intended on existing copyrights.
A/N: Originally posted to AdrianMonkSlash, July, 2005. Thanks to thsfuhqinsux.
Summary: "Look, Monk, sometimes when--when you're picking up clues, it--it seems like magic to me."
Magic
He went looking for Monk after the press conference and found him sitting on a scratched-up wooden bench just outside the restrooms. He was there by himself, his eyes half-closed, his lips turned up to form a spare, absent smile.
"So, look," said Stottlemeyer. He sat down next to Monk, wincing--the bench was closer to the floor than he'd thought, and he had hit it hard with his back end. "Sorry about the thing with the guy."
Monk opened his eyes and looked at him, but the smile stayed put. "It's okay. He was pretty convincing."
"Really?" Stottlemeyer snorted. "He didn't convince you."
"Well, you know," agreed Monk, lifting his hand in a modest, well-you-know-type gesture.
"Yeah," Stottlemeyer said, chuckling, "okay." There was a quick silence; he broke it with a nod and another "Okay," flattening his hands across the tops of his thighs and rising to leave.
"Magic?" Monk said, suddenly.
Stottlemeyer had only made it a couple inches into the air. He sighed, dropped back down, and winced again. "What?"
"You were saying...." Monk's smile was ebbing, his eyebrows knitting together. "You said before that when I'm picking up clues...that it seems like magic. To you."
"I did? Oh--er, right, I guess," said Stottlemeyer, shrugging. "I mean, sure."
Monk shrugged, too, but with only one shoulder, and uncertainly. His smile was all but gone and his eyebrows knitted deeper.
"What?" said Stottlemeyer, watching him curiously. "You telling me you didn't know that?"
"Well...you know...." Monk muttered. He rested his hands in his lap and lowered his head to examine them.
"Huh," said Stottlemeyer, and watched some more, intrigued. "Well, it does. It really does seem like magic." He thought a minute. "In fact...I'd say a lot of things you do seem like magic to me."
Monk's shoulder and head snapped to attention. His neck twisted sharply. "Pardon?" he squeaked.
Stottlemeyer dipped his weight forward and sideways, into Monk's space. Kept dipping until their arms brushed above the elbow, their legs above the knee.
"I said," he murmured, eyes trained on Monk's face, "a lot of things you do seem like magic to me."
Monk's mouth opened and closed and opened again, fish-like. His upper body arced away and he stared, plainly dumbfounded beyond reply.
Stottlemeyer pulled himself away, too, more leisurely. He wrapped his fingers around the curve of Monk's spasming shoulder, worked at it until he got it to settle.
"Hmm," observed Stottlemeyer, softly. "Looks like I know how to do a little magic of my own." He smiled and let his hand drift down, flattening it across the top of Monk's thigh and rising to leave.
Pairing: Monk/Stottlemeyer
Rating: PG
Word count: ~450
Spoilers: 4x01 - "Mr. Monk and the Other Detective"
Other formats: AO3
Disclaimer: This is an amateur, not-for-profit work of fiction. No attempt has been made to copyright characters and/or concepts owned by the Monk people, nor is any infringement intended on existing copyrights.
A/N: Originally posted to AdrianMonkSlash, July, 2005. Thanks to thsfuhqinsux.
Summary: "Look, Monk, sometimes when--when you're picking up clues, it--it seems like magic to me."
Magic
He went looking for Monk after the press conference and found him sitting on a scratched-up wooden bench just outside the restrooms. He was there by himself, his eyes half-closed, his lips turned up to form a spare, absent smile.
"So, look," said Stottlemeyer. He sat down next to Monk, wincing--the bench was closer to the floor than he'd thought, and he had hit it hard with his back end. "Sorry about the thing with the guy."
Monk opened his eyes and looked at him, but the smile stayed put. "It's okay. He was pretty convincing."
"Really?" Stottlemeyer snorted. "He didn't convince you."
"Well, you know," agreed Monk, lifting his hand in a modest, well-you-know-type gesture.
"Yeah," Stottlemeyer said, chuckling, "okay." There was a quick silence; he broke it with a nod and another "Okay," flattening his hands across the tops of his thighs and rising to leave.
"Magic?" Monk said, suddenly.
Stottlemeyer had only made it a couple inches into the air. He sighed, dropped back down, and winced again. "What?"
"You were saying...." Monk's smile was ebbing, his eyebrows knitting together. "You said before that when I'm picking up clues...that it seems like magic. To you."
"I did? Oh--er, right, I guess," said Stottlemeyer, shrugging. "I mean, sure."
Monk shrugged, too, but with only one shoulder, and uncertainly. His smile was all but gone and his eyebrows knitted deeper.
"What?" said Stottlemeyer, watching him curiously. "You telling me you didn't know that?"
"Well...you know...." Monk muttered. He rested his hands in his lap and lowered his head to examine them.
"Huh," said Stottlemeyer, and watched some more, intrigued. "Well, it does. It really does seem like magic." He thought a minute. "In fact...I'd say a lot of things you do seem like magic to me."
Monk's shoulder and head snapped to attention. His neck twisted sharply. "Pardon?" he squeaked.
Stottlemeyer dipped his weight forward and sideways, into Monk's space. Kept dipping until their arms brushed above the elbow, their legs above the knee.
"I said," he murmured, eyes trained on Monk's face, "a lot of things you do seem like magic to me."
Monk's mouth opened and closed and opened again, fish-like. His upper body arced away and he stared, plainly dumbfounded beyond reply.
Stottlemeyer pulled himself away, too, more leisurely. He wrapped his fingers around the curve of Monk's spasming shoulder, worked at it until he got it to settle.
"Hmm," observed Stottlemeyer, softly. "Looks like I know how to do a little magic of my own." He smiled and let his hand drift down, flattening it across the top of Monk's thigh and rising to leave.