TOW Monica Realises
Author Note: The framework came from David Crane and Marta Kauffman. Anyway, I got back into FRIENDS a few months ago and I've been watching late season 3 lately to help my idea blossom because I saw a perfect opportunity in that season for a earlier gateway to Mondler. Yay!
It had been a long day with the drama of not having the ski trip and all, and once her chest was again supported by her bra, Phoebe was driving her grandmother's cab back to Manhattan. Monica was quite tired, so her head drooped onto Chandler's shoulder. He in turn wound the window up - he'd finished his last cigarette - and put his arm around her, pulling her close. He'd always cared for her, and knew when she was tuckered she needed to be as comfortable as possible. Rachel, who was next to them, didn't think anything of it - it was Monica and Chandler, and it was the way their friendship was. After a few hours, the gang was back in Manhattan, and Monica was stirring. In that drowsy state that accompanies the body with waking up, she tensed her hand while her eyes were still shut. Her skin met with a familiar coat, and slowly waking for sure, the first thing she saw was Chandler's blue eyes, dancing with mirth.
"Hey there, sleepyhead." he whispered. Monica took a breath - how had she never realised what a precise shade of blue his eyes were? Her heart started beating faster. Where on earth had this pulse come from? This was Chandler. The friend who had comforted her in her darkest days, like when Phoebe had moved out three years ago. And he also had just teased her unawares about being bra-less. Monica gulped.
"H-hey Ch-Chandler." she whispered, a stammer in her throat. Chandler immediately raised his eyebrow - something was wrong with the slim brunette if she was like this.
"What's up?" he asked gently, stroking her hair with the lightest touch. Unexpected goosebumps erupted on her scalp as she shook her head, faking a smile.
"I'm fine, I promise." Monica grinned, looking like a dark-haired Barbie doll at that moment. Chandler swore he saw a crease in her forehead which might've been a giveaway sign of her telling a lie, but maybe it was just the dim lighting.
"Monica..." he trailed, stroking her hair again.
"Chandler..." she mimicked in the tone, even stroking his nape.
"Mon, tell me." the data analyser said bluntly. Monica shook her head.
"If I could, I would. But I don't know... you know when you can't figure it out?"
"I do know the feeling precisely." he said, not exactly missing the slight hollowness with which Monica said the previous sentence. Luckily for them, Phoebe pulled up.
"OK guys, we're back." she said cheerily, registering the conversation she'd just heard as Joey and Rachel woke up from the loss of momentum.
"Home already?" Rachel asked groggily. Phoebe nodded, a smile playing on her lips as her mind started racing with possibilities - the fact that the nervous joker and borderline-compulsive chef were whispering didn't save her from hearing their words.
Monica had a fitful sleep, and after a few cups of coffee, got dressed at five in the morning to walk over to 5 Morton Street. When the brunette knocked on apartment 14, she was greeted by the sight of Phoebe in a cream-coloured dressing gown.
"Mon?" Phoebe pondered. "What's up? You wake up at six, and you never come over." she stated simply. The only response to this was arms being wrapped around her body and the smell of Monica's shampoo. After guiding her former roommate to her couch, Phoebe brought in a plate of cookies. "Honey, you can tell me." she muttered gently. Monica nodded, nibbling on a cookie. After a swallow, she looked at her blonde friend, deciding on her words.
"I know I can tell you - you were my first thought. As far as Rachel goes... well, I know the rest of us don't take the psychic thing as seriously as you do, but you're the most insightful one." Monica gibbered, almost choking on the cookie. In the half-light of the dimmer, Phoebe saw the look in Monica's eyes and it registered instantly.
"A guy?" the masseuse asked, knowing the answer. "Do I know him?"
"You do." the chef responded, blinking back the beginnings of tears.
"Ah." Phoebe smiled. "It's Chandler, then." And with the simple whisper of that name, there were cookie crumbs on the couch - Monica had spat them out in shock.
"How- Phoebe- I never-"
"I heard you two whispering last night. Plus your aura was all romantic-pink. I put two and two together with how you were acting once you'd woken up."
"I don't know what came over me. I mean, all of a sudden I looked into his sparkling blue eyes and he was... Chandler, this amazing guy that made my heart race." Monica said, a smile finally gracing her face.
"Well you should tell him. He's always been there for you." Phoebe beamed.
"I can't... I'd wreck everything... we've only just had Ross and Rachel split. I don't think our group can take another relationship. Plus, if he rejected me..." Monica trailed off, looking at her friend. The blonde was giving her this 'captain obvious' look.
"Monica Elizabeth Geller, you do realise you sound just like him, right?" she whispered. Monica hung her head, sliding into Phoebe's shoulder.
"I do realise that. But just say-"
"Mon, Chandler adores you. What did he promise you when Ben was born?"
"He... Oh!" Monica's eyes widened.
"There you go! Maybe that was his twisted, uncomfortable Chandler-y way of telling you that you're particularly special to him." Phoebe smiled. "You must like him a whole lot if you dressed at this hour and walked over to me. I appreciate that you thought of me first, but surely Rachel-"
"-is not a morning person." Monica chuckled. Phoebe's eyes lit up in laughter. "But you can not tell her. Or any of the guys. Promise me, Phoebe." the dark-haired woman said, her tone suddenly vulnerable. Phoebe nodded, realising how the nickname 'Pheebs' hadn't been used at all, and just how serious this must be.
"I promise completely, Mon." she said, drawing her companion into a hug.
"Love you." Monica mumbled. Phoebe nodded.
"But not as much as you love Chandler." she smiled. The seriousness broke and they were both laughing, Monica attempting to glare with a crimson face and Phoebe holding her hands up in surrender. "You can sleep here, Mon." the blonde said, not wanting her friend to walk back in the early hours through the New York streets, reaching for the spare quilt she had. Monica felt guilty, but took it and laid down.
"Night, Mrs. Bing." Phoebe whispered playfully as she stroked Monica's head.
"Goodnight, Pheebs." Monica muttered, tickling the blonde in the ribs for revenge.
AN: I don't know where for the idea of the general skeleton of this story came from, but I'm glad my brain's lively enough to write fanfiction again. Don't worry, the title for the story itself will become clear on a deeper level later. More Pheebs & Mon banter next chapter and twists on canon too!