Head notes: so I've wanted someone to do something like this for a long time because I am a fan of both shows. I have never written a story for Monk so I may not have the characters down very well. For Monk the time line is some time before season eight. For Person of Interest it takes place Pre-Shaw.

Chapter one

Captain Leland Stottlemeyer surveyed the scene of what seemed to be a robbery. A bad one. 15 witnesses and most of them weren't even conscious yet, and all of them with a bullet to the kneecaps. The thought of a bullet going into his knees made him shudder. It would have been more merciful to kill them. There were ten other officers at the scene along with Randy, who walked over to him.

"The manager just woke up. He thinks he can describe the shooter," Randy said.

"we'll talk to him once Monk gets here," Captain Stottlemeyer said.

"Where is Monk?" Randy asked.

Just then a car door slammed and Leland could hear two people bickering.

"Speak of the devil," he said as he turned to see Monk and Natalie walking up.

"Sorry I'm late. Natalie was being unreasonable," He said to Leland and Randy.

"I was being unreasonable!" Natalie snapped, "who was the one who refused to leave until every speck of dust was out of my car?"

"Natalie, how many times do I have to tell you? Dust is the number one cause of lung cancer in America."

"That's ridiculous!"Natalie retorted. "I have more dust than that in my house. I don't have lung cancer."

"There are always exceptions to the rules Natalie."

"Meanwhile," Stottlemeyer interrupted. "back in San Francisco, we have a case to solve."

"What is it, Captain?" Natalie asked.

"We think robbery," Stottlemeyer explained. "Dispatchers got a call an hour ago regarding shots fired and some reports of a robbery."

"Did anyone see the shooter?" Monk asked.

fifteen people saw the shooter and every single one of them have bullets to the kneecaps." The captain said.

"Oh gosh," Natalie whispered, shuddering as she looked at the people groaning on the ground as they clutched their knees.

"The owner just woke up. we were just getting ready to talk to him when you arrived."

Monk nodded and went to follow. He stopped when he noticed the fallen displays.

"Mr. monk, no." Natalie said sternly.

Focusing on the captain, Monk stepped up behind him and listened as the owner, Mr. Richards, told his story.

"We were just closing down for the night," Mr. Richards hissed through his pain. "I had ten employees working and four customers. suddenly, a man came in and started shooting everyone. I always keep a gun behind the register for scenarios like this, so i went for it, but he saw me and shot my knee before i could do anything. then he went to the cash register, took all the money, and left."

"What did he look like?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Hang on just a second," Monk said. "Do you have a back room?"

"Yeah," Mr. Richards said. "back hall on the right."

Monk walked past the aisles and turned in the direction indicated. A powerful scent of gunpowder overpowered him before he even entered the room. He raised his hands as his mind focused on the pieces of the whole. He spotted a smudge of blood near the legs of the table where someone had attempted to clean up. The brunt of the attack definitely happened back here. Noticing something on the table, he took out his tweezers and picked it up. it was a thin strong string fiber, like from a zipper. A bag? But a bag of what? Money?

"Mr, monk?" Natalie said coming up behind him.

"There was a bag here," he said.

"Are you sure?" Natalie asked.

"Unless someone tore their zipper while sitting very awkwardly on the table, " He responded sarcastically. "They were all back here doing something illegal. "

"Why illegal?"She asked.

"The attack happened back here, but someone went through a lot of trouble to make it look like it happened in the store." He answered. "Any way they were back here doing something illegal. probably some kind if underground gambling if he took money. One man became angry, took out his gun and shot...their kneecaps? Why the kneecaps?"

"Maybe it was a warning, you know to not tell anyone," Natalie speculated.

"Natalie," he said with exaggerated patience. "even if the police never got this call, they would still have to go to the hospital and hospitals have to report gunshot wounds. Fifteen people with gunshot wounds to the kneecaps would probably generate a lot if curiosity. It would have been less trouble to just kill them."

"Okay, well you'll figure it out," she said as they started walking back to the Captain. Natalie winced as they walked past a groaning man clutching his knee.

Suddenly Monk stopped in his tracks, a looking of dawning apprehension growing on his face.

"I know that look," Natalie said. "You figured it out didn't you?"

"The angle was wrong," Monk said.

"What do you mean?" Natalie asked.

"everyone else's wounds came from either straight on or just below. Mr. Richards' came from above. I think he shot himself."

"Shot himself in the kneecap?" Natalie repeated incredulously. "why would he do that? Why would anyone do that?"

"Maybe to make it look like a third-party was involved," Monk guessed. "But again, why didn't he just kill them?"

"We got a description of the shooter, Monk," the Captain said.

"The store owner is lying Captain," Monk interjected. "I don't think this was a robbery at all."

"Well, I got the same description from everybody. Tall, caucasian, dark hair and a really nice suit.

Then why would the store owner shoot himself? Monk wondered to himself

XxXxXxXxX

John Reese stood across the street from the crime scene studying his quarry.

"Mr. Reese, did you have to shoot people in order to get in touch with our number?" Finch's voice sounded in his ear.

"You told me he was a detective, a brilliant one." John commented. "what better way to bring him to us than to present him with a challenge? Besides, I left all my hardware in New York. Commercial flights aren't fond of firearms."

He looked over at the bag of weapons he had taken from the criminals trading their black market weapons.

"What else can you tell me about our number, Finch?"

"Adrian Monk was a highly decorated detective for the San Francisco Police department until 10 years ago when he suffered a complete mental breakdown after his wife was killed. It was a car bomb. He was honorably discharged soon after he has spent every day since trying to solve his wife's murder and to be reinstated at the police station ."

"They ever find who did it?" john asked.

"Not presently." Harold answered. "Mr. Monk is highly unstable and he truly loved his wife. If he ever did find out who did it, there is no telling what he would do to the perpetrator."

"I would probably help him," John whispered ominously.

"Mr. Monk has no cell phone, no social networking and i can't access his bank account online. He does have an Email but he rarely uses that. the only people who contact him are his assistant Natalie Teeger and occasionally her daughter Julie."

"So we need to find a creative way to spy on him."

"Mr. Monk is highly brilliant. Anything we do we have to be absolutely careful that we don't leave any evidence of our being there."

"Finch, I was an international spy. I can-"

"Mr. Reese, what's wrong?"

John quickly turned the corner as Monk's eyes turned and looked directly at him.

"Mr. Reese, is everything okay?" Finch asked anxiously

"Finch, brilliant is an understatement. Monk just made me."

XxXxXxXX

Natalie stopped as Mr. monk looked across the street.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I thought I saw someone," he said.

"Okay, well it is a crime scene." she replied. "Maybe he's just curious."

XxxXxXxX

End notes: so one thing I wanted to do with this chapter was point out that John Reese is the only character ever who is allowed to shoot kneecaps. So what do you think? How is it so far story wise?