Title: Noises Off

Author: Kora

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to USA and other peoples. I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment.

Spoilers: Based on Mr. Monk and the Paperboy, mentions of Mr. Monk and the Playboy

Author's Note: Yesssssssssssssssss! Finally I get to write some dirty Monk fic - bwhaha - dirty/Monk…those things SO do not go together and yet do and why? Because I am evil! I love me some smutty smut like scenes.

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'Oh.'

Thump.

'Oh!'

Thump, thump, thump.

'OHHHH!'

Adrian Monk groaned and rolled over; clamping his pillow tighter around his ears to try and block out the sounds that came drifting down from the ceiling above him. Kevin and his new girlfriend Vicki were being 'friendly' again! God, weren't they exhausted yet! They'd been at it for how long now?

Kevin didn't even look like the kind of person with enough endurance to go on this long and Vicki - god, could she get any louder?! What a performance! She deserved an Oscar! Monk sighed, holding the pillows as tightly as he dared, pleased that it muffled out most of the sounds.

He tried to think of something else. He could focus on the case. Yeah right - with that racket?! No, the upstairs 'music' was not going to allow him to think objectively about the case - better to focus on something easier.

He could think about vacuuming. Maybe he should get up and vacuum now. No - no, that wasn't going to work. As much as he loved cleaning, his body was weary. He knew more than anything he needed rest. But how could he get one wink of sleep with - with the all-nighters up there?

The thumping was growing more loud and repetitive as was Vicki's noisy cries of passion. Monk flipped over on to his stomach. He despised doing so - he preferred to sleep on his back - perfectly straight and center in the exact middle of the bed but at this moment he just wanted to bury himself into the mattress - block out all that was happening around him.

God, if only he could sleep…

Then he could think.

Then he could solve this case…

'Oh Kevin!'

Monk was sorely tempted to stand up and shout at the top of his lungs, 'Oh come on he can't be THAT good!'

Hell, no one could be as good as Vicki was putting on! Maybe if he rapidly tapped the roof with a broomstick a couple times and hollered about the noise they might hear him. Maybe he could call Stottlemeyer - get him to send over some cops. After all, they were disturbing the peace.

But Adrian didn't want to look foolish nor embarrass Kevin. He may not be a big fan of his neighbor - especially at this moment - but even he wouldn't intrude on…well…this…

Inevitably - and no thanks to the couple above - his thoughts drifted to his last meeting with Doctor Kroger. While it had been quite humiliating singing show tunes for the last twenty minutes of his appointment it had been much better than the alternative. Talking about his sex life.

His sex life with Trudy.

Their sex life…

Monk rolled over again, resting on his back. He still gripped the pillow to his ears but now his gaze was focused on the very ceiling above him. As much as he didn't want to, he found his imagination drifting to Kevin and Vicki. To what they were doing…he could see it clear in his mind's eye…

Sweaty limbs wrapped around each other, bodies so close it looked as if they'd melt into each other…

Monk flipped on to his right side. It had never been like that with Trudy. Not that making love to her hadn't been wonderful. It had but…it was just…

He flipped again, to the left, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge that all this thinking was causing him to toss and turn. True, it was better to have his mind clouded with thoughts as opposed to the sounds raging above him but what he was thinking of - god, Trudy. He'd always been…scared to touch her. She was like an angel and he looked to her with such reverence that it seemed impossible to even lay a finger on her.

And when he did. It was always slow, always nice and gentle but it was never…well it certainly wasn't like the show going on above him. He never thought that he would want that. He wasn't the kind of person who was interested in the whole slick, perspiring, heart pounding kind of bedroom action.

He had viewed sex as…not even sex, but making love. Slow, sweet, gentle…

What was going on above was explosive, hot, passionate…

He still wasn't the kind of person who was interested in what went on upstairs, what was happening between Kevin and Vicki, but he was interested in…well…passion. Heat. Fire. Could there be a cross? Sex mixed with making love? Being with someone like that and - and feeling crazy? Like your heart was going to explode but you didn't care because it felt so good…

He couldn't even begin to imagine that…

But then, he could hear those sounds going on and it made him feel so weak. Just like with Sharona being stronger than him lately - opening his bottle of water and his car door, their failed arm wrestling match - he wanted to be more of a man. Why couldn't he be more…mannish?

Strong, seductive, confidant…

And suddenly his hands fell away from the pillow, the noises upstairs the only sounds he could hear. His imagination kicked into overdrive and he no longer saw just any sweaty limbs wrapped around each other but his own and…

'Adrian?' She whispered softly.

'I'm…I'm sorry…I just,' He looked down at her as if something had struck him between the eyes and he couldn't quite figure out what yet, '…wasn't expecting you.'

'Disappointed?'

He looked at those eyes, that heart shaped little mouth. He grinned, showing white teeth, a confidence taking him he wasn't even aware he had, his voice low and husky, darker and deeper than he'd ever heard it, 'No. Not at all.'

His mouth covered hers, hot and insatiable. Her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, pulling him so close to her that her smell filled his senses. What was it she wore? What perfume? He couldn't name it, he didn't want to, not now. Instead he filled his hands with her hair.

She mewled, her entire slim length soft against him, her own fingers scoring up and down his back, tickling, teasing his bare flesh. Bare flesh. He was naked…she was naked…they were with each other, bodies pressed…Jesus…

He felt dizzy all of the sudden but he didn't pull away. Hell, he realized this and didn't even want a wipe - all he wanted was more of her. His mouth left hers and worked over her face - pressing lightly to her eyelids and her forehead, passing over her nose and ears, running along her neck.

She merely let out another sound of pleasure, arching upward. God, could they get any closer? They must be able to because he could swear he felt her closer. It was like she was inside of him or maybe he was in her or…

The dizziness grew worse but still he refused to draw away, mouth nibbling on her collarbone. She was moaning now, his name over and over and he loved hearing it - wanted to hear it more, didn't want it to stop and her hands - tricky pale hands had found their way to his chest, skimming over, going lower, brushing his hips…

He groaned, he'd never felt like this, like he was on fire, so wanting, so…

Her name escaped him as he found himself pressing her down into the mattress, 'Sharona.'

Monk shot up in bed and realized with a great amount of panic that not only was his skin coated in a light sheen of sweat but he was…

A tiny cry of anguish escaped him and he flipped back over on to his stomach, hoping 'it' would calm down. 'It' hadn't even been…well…up and around in ages and now it chose to…god, he couldn't even bear to think the words 'rear it's ugly head' but they came anyway.

Much to his relief Kevin and Vicki's Karma-Sutra-athon, seemed to have stopped, so at least he didn't have to contend with that. Hopefully 'it' would leave on it's own now that there was no noise to provide motivation.

But then, had it been the sounds upstairs to start him up or had it been the fantasy that had somehow entered his mind. Sharona…god, he had imagined himself making love to her - the noises upstairs somehow transferred over to her and him and…bed…and…

He groaned, okay, this was only encouraging 'it'. He had to stop thinking of Sharona immediately. How could he have even dragged his assistant unwillingly and unknowingly into his…

Jesus! He had had a SEX fantasy! He was a pervert now!

Monk moaned, disgusted with himself yet unable to really get too mad. After all, he was a man, right? Men were supposed to have these kind of thoughts and dreams. Hey! Who knew, he was mannish after all.

But he didn't want it like this…

And certainly not so…vividly.

Part of him could still see Sharona's naked body in hid mind. Damn Dexter for showing him those photos of her all those months ago. If he didn't know what she looked like naked than the fantasy wouldn't have been half as powerful as it had been.

Not wanting to examine the fantasy any further than necessary he sat up in bed. Great, now when Kevin and Vicki were finally done and he could get some sleep he found himself incapable of it for a whole new reason.

He couldn't think about the case.

He couldn't think about what went on upstairs, or sex, or Trudy, or Sharona or…

Vacuums!

He could always rely on thinking abbot vacuums and cleaning. His weary body did need the rest but as he sat on the edge of his bed - knowing sleep would never come, he decided cleaning was a much better fate than trying to untangle what had just taken place in his mind. And certainly it would help 'it' to go down.

With a reluctant sigh he rose from his bed and went looking for his vacuum.