http://slightlymonkish.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
slightlymonkish.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
milliways_bar2007-02-26 03:45 pm
slightlymonkish.livejournal.com) wrote in milliways_bar2007-02-26 03:45 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Mr. Monk is on a Mission.
He had a terrible night. He dreamt of many things that kept him tossing and turning in his sleep - fresh in his mind was the most intense of them all when he awoke.
Trudy...
When he approaches Bar today, he has only one thing on his mind. "Bar?" he asks, leaning against her surface with a slight frown and a bit of a nervous pain in his stomach. "I... don't know if you can do this, but -- can you maybe give me... I don't know, something that has to do with my wife's murder? I need to know what happened."
A pile of newspapers appear. The headlines of the papers, all front page, read:
Blast Kills Award Winning Columnist
Monk Murder Still Unsolved
Explosion Rips Through Parkade Killing One
Detective's Wife Slain
No Other Links to Car Bombing Suspected
Monk's heart twists, drops and skips a few beats as he stares with horrified eyes at the papers, the words, the photos.
The dates read various days in December of 1997.
Muttering a weak "thanks", he rushes to the nearest table with the stack of information in hand, worried that his legs will give out at any moment. With shaking hands he begins to rustle through each item, growing paler and paler all the while.
Quickly blinking back tears, he forces himself to compose his thoughts and begins to read.
It's going to be a long day.
He had a terrible night. He dreamt of many things that kept him tossing and turning in his sleep - fresh in his mind was the most intense of them all when he awoke.
Trudy...
When he approaches Bar today, he has only one thing on his mind. "Bar?" he asks, leaning against her surface with a slight frown and a bit of a nervous pain in his stomach. "I... don't know if you can do this, but -- can you maybe give me... I don't know, something that has to do with my wife's murder? I need to know what happened."
A pile of newspapers appear. The headlines of the papers, all front page, read:
Blast Kills Award Winning Columnist
Monk Murder Still Unsolved
Explosion Rips Through Parkade Killing One
Detective's Wife Slain
No Other Links to Car Bombing Suspected
Monk's heart twists, drops and skips a few beats as he stares with horrified eyes at the papers, the words, the photos.
The dates read various days in December of 1997.
Muttering a weak "thanks", he rushes to the nearest table with the stack of information in hand, worried that his legs will give out at any moment. With shaking hands he begins to rustle through each item, growing paler and paler all the while.
Quickly blinking back tears, he forces himself to compose his thoughts and begins to read.
It's going to be a long day.
no subject
Homestar does understand the key words of Monk's headlines and look on his friend's face.
He gets Monk a glass of melonade, quietly sets it down by him, and leaves him to his work.
There will be time to make him laugh later.
no subject
And when she gets closer and sees the headlines, April knows it's not good.
"Hey," she says softly, sitting down next to him.
no subject
"You were right."
no subject
What do you say in a situation like this?
"I'm sorry," she whispers.