A/N: Aight, before you go all crazy on me, just listen. I know that in actuality we are like, no where near Valentine's Day. But this idea has been floating around in my head and I just had to write it. By the way, does anyone think I can pull off "aight"? What about "wifey"? "Yall?" Be honest with me. Becca can't say any of those words. I'm honest with her. I love you Becca Boo!
Ahhh before I forget - there is a senior at my school who looks EXACTLY like Clay Aiken before the storm, the storm being American Idol. It's, like, CREEPY. The dark hair, the awkward skinniness, the dorky glasses - it's all there, just a few years younger. Scary, no?
Oh! The fic! That's right - It is February 14th, 1998. Please bear with me; for this fic, the events that happened towards the end of the fourth season happened much earlier. Just kinda figure it out, I don't care if dates and seasons are wrong.
Disclaimer: I own nothing here - not the Friends, not the Beatles "8 Days a Week." However, I do own a Pez dispenser - now all I need is some Pez. (Remember the Pez dispenser? Remember when he Pez dispenser died? And here I am, trying to bring it back...)
The Valentine
"And its an unusually bright and sunny February morning here in New York, perfect for all those lovebirds to take a stroll in the park, maybe hide out behind the bushes, if ya know what I mean. Now for another dedication - this next song is for Rebecca, from Brett. Happy Valentine's Day from KRTH 101!"
Monica groaned as the opening notes of the Beatles "8 Days a Week" blared in her ear. She reached out and slammed her hand down on her alarm clock, silencing Paul McCartney as he sang.
Eight days a week, what a stupid song, you can't love someone eight days a week, Monica thought sourly as she got out of bed. She stubbed her toe on the door as she left her room, and arrived in the kitchen to discover that they had run out of coffee.
Today sucked - Valentines Day sucked. She was alone, and all her friends were happy - Ross with Emily, Rachel with Joshua, Phoebe with the triplets growing inside of her and Joey with half the Tri-state area. Monica wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and ignore the rest of the world until this hateful day was over.
"Good morning!" Rachel said cheerily, sauntering out of her bedroom.
"Says who?" Monica grumbled. "We're out of coffee."
"Yeah, Joshua and I drank the last of it last night, sorry. Anyway, we're meeting at Central Perk in 20 minutes," Rachel said, opening the fridge.
"We are? No one told me that!" Monica crossed her arms. "No one ever tells me anything."
"Calm down, Mon!" Rachel said, pouring herself a glass of juice. "Be happy! It's Valentines Day!"
"I hate Valentine's Day," Monica snapped. "It's a stupid, over-commercialized holiday invented by Hallmark and Company, used only to sell cheesy cards with idiotic poems and make single people feel like absolute shit."
"You don't have a date, do you," Rachel said, a small smile playing across her lips.
"No," Monica said crossly. "But I don't need one!" With that, she stomped into her bedroom like an angry teenager.
"Hey, Mon, what's this?" Rachel asked fifteen minutes later as they left their apartment. Monica stared at the white envelope with "Monica" written neatly on it in handwriting she didn't recognize. "I found it on the floor. Someone must have slipped it under the door."
Monica took the envelope and stared at it a while longer. "Well, aren't you gonna open it?" Rachel said.
"I guess so." Shrugging, Monica deftly slit open the envelope, pulling a card from within. The card was simple yet elegant; a man and a woman walking into a sunset, their hands intertwined. Her hands shaking slightly, she opened it, her eyes falling upon a hand-written message inside.
"Monica," Rachel read aloud. "You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you. Tonight is the night when everything will fall into place. Tonight is the night I will hold you in my arms and tell you that I love you. Happy Valentines Day." There was no signature.
Rachel squealed excitedly. "You have a secret admirer!"
"Puh-lease," Monica said. "It's probably just someone playing a mean joke meant to torture me because I'm single." She led Rachel out the door and down the hall.
"Can't you for one second forget your anti-Valentines-Day thing and believe that someone might care about you?" Rachel said in exasperation. "Ooh, I wonder who it is? Anybody from work have their eye on you lately? How about an old boyfriend wanting to rekindle a flame? Oh, no, you know what? It's Gunther, I bet it's Gunther, I caught him staring at us the other day when we were having coffee, he must be pining over you!"
Rachel was still discussing options, and Monica was still re-reading the card when they entered the coffeeshop. Ross, Chandler, Joey, and Phoebe were already there.
"Hey, what's that?" Phoebe asked, pointing to the card in Monica's hand.
"Nothing," Monica said, quickly shoving the card into her jacket pocket.
"It's a valentine from a secret admirer!" Rachel said, grinning.
"Mon's got a secret admirer?" Ross said incredulously.
"Thanks," Monica spat.
"A card without a name? Who does that?" Chandler asked, chuckling. "It's like something a high school kid does when he doesn't have the balls to ask the cheerleader out - so 'Saved By the Bell'."
"Very cheesy," Joey agreed. "You can't not tell a girl who you are - how's she gonna if she's having sex with the right guy?"
"I think it's sweet," Phoebe said.
"Really romantic," Rachel added.
"Do you think it's romantic?" Chandler asked Monica, sounding hesitant. Monica cocked her head, pondering this. Did she think a card from an anonymous person promising something was romantic as hell? Yes. Did she think it was a little suspicious? Also yes.
"I - I don't know. So what's everyone doing tonight?" Monica asked, eager to change the topic of conversation.
"I have a date with my boyfriend. Joshua," Rachel said proudly, putting emphasis on the second syllable.
"I'm picking Emily up at the airport in a few hours and we're going to Atlantic City," Ross countered immediately.
"I got a date with Christine at 7 and Melissa at 9, and I think I might pop over to Mandy's place later," Joey said, as if having a date with three women on Valentines Day was as normal as commenting on the weather.
"I'm meeting Frank and Alice for an early dinner and hopefully leaving before their real festivities begin," Phoebe said, cringing at the idea of her little brother and his much older wife.
They all looked to Chandler and Monica.
"I guess I - I don't really - I don't know what I'm doing," Chandler mumbled, his cheeks reddening slightly, presumably because of the fact that he, once again, did not have a date for the most romantic night of the year.
"Hey, I could set you up with someone!" Joey said excitedly. "I know this girl - "
"Joey, last time I was set up with you, I woke up with Janice. Janice. The only thing worse than that would be a man-eating tiger," Chandler said. "Forget it."
"What about you, Mon?" Phoebe asked.
"I'll probably just sit around and feel sorry for myself," Monica sighed.
"Noo, don't do that!" Chandler said. "No way! Go out! Go to dinner! Catch a movie!"
"Eh," she said, shrugging. Her five friends glanced at her for a second before Rachel began a conversation about woman's underwear that interested all present, leaving Monica think about the Valentine from the nameless man that was burning a hole in her pocket.
"I love you, baby."
"I love you too. I'll never stop loving you. You're my everything." The couple sitting behind Monica giggled excessively, and Monica tried to block out the noise. Unfortunately, they were not the only ones in the theatre who seemed to have missed the concept that going to a movie was actually about seeing a movie, and not messing around in the back.
Monica sighed loudly. Who's dumbass idea was it to see a movie, anyway? she thought bitterly. She couldn't have picked a worse film to see, either, she realized. "Shamelessly In Love" - who the hell thought up that title?
As the foot behind her kicked her in the head, she realized she'd reached the end of her rope. "Sorry, lady," the teenage boy, his face covered in bright pink lipstick, whispered to her as she stood up and glared at him.
"Whatever," Monica muttered, grabbing her purse and stomping down her row. As she reached the aisle, she encountered another problem - a couple who had gone so far as to sprawl out between the rows of seats, providing a spectacle far more realistic than the one on the screen.
"Ahem." Monica cleared her throat pointedly. "A-hem. Excuse me! Kids, I'm trying to get through here!" The people looked up - and Monica was astounded to see the faces of her parents reflected in the light of the screen.
"Oh my God," she said. "Mom? Dad?"
"Oh, hello, sweetheart," Judy said, straightening her blouse casually. "What are you doing here?"
"Seeing a movie. It's what people usually do in theatres - you should really look into it," Monica spat in disgust.
"Oh, come on now..." Judy said. "So, where's your date?"
Monica bit the inside of her cheek. "I don't have one," she said through clenched teeth.
"You don't have a date? On Valentine's Day?" Judy said. "Well, I suppose it's to be expected of you, really..."
"Judy, if Monica doesn't want to have a date, she doesn't need one!" Jack said encouragingly. "If Monica wants to grow old alone and come back and live with us, that's okay, and if she wants to become a lesbian, that's okay too!"
"Jack!" Judy cried.
"Happy Valentine's Day," Monica muttered to her parents, storming around them and out of the theatre. She leaned against the brick wall outside, trying to hold back tears. Finally, feeling calmer, she started walking. She kept her head down, her hands in her pockets, trying to look less lonely and miserable than she actually felt. She finally sat down on a bench in Washington Square Park. Couples, clutching hands or less appropriate parts of each other's bodies, stumbled by, lost in each other's eyes. A few stopped under trees and made out so insistently that Monica was sure they thought their tongues were going to be cut off the next day.
It was until she heard guttural moans coming from the bushes behind her that Monica decided to leave - and then she heard a voice.
"Monica?"
Monica's eyes bulged. She turned around slowly.
"Pete." It wasn't a question. She knew the voice - the soft, comforting, familiar voice. She knew his face, and his eyes, and his lips - oh God, his lips.
Pete took a few steps toward her, opening his arms hesitantly for a hug. Monica lunged for him, burying her head in his shoulder.
"So how've you been?" he asked when she finally pulled away.
"Oh - okay, I guess," Monica said, shrugging. "You?"
"Fine, fine. Well, alone on Valentines Day, if that's any hint," Pete said with a self-deprecating half-smile.
"Yeah, me too," Monica said.
"Y'know, I've really wanted to call you lately," Pete said, avoiding her eyes.
"Yeah?" Monica asked breathlessly.
"Yeah. 'Cause I, you know, quit the Ultimate Fighting thing. I figure the championship isn't worth losing all possibilities of reproduction."
"That's - that's really good," Monica said, taking a half-step closer. She could almost feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Yeah. Yeah, I know. So, um, my question is, do you think you would ever consider getting back toge - "
Monica covered his lips with her own. Every emotion - longing, loneliness, regret - evaporated as Pete wrapped his arms around her.
"Yeah," Monica said quietly. "I think I would.
Monica rolled over, snuggling into Pete's arms, both of them panting. "Oh, God," Pete murmured. "God, I've missed you."
Monica grinned as he kissed her hand, her shoulder, her neck. She hadn't felt this happy in - well, she didn't know how long it had been. And suddenly, something clicked in her brain.
Pete had sent her the valentine with the mysterious message! It made sense! He must have followed her all night, waiting for the right opportunity to talk to her, to tell her what she meant to him, to do this - God, it was like a fairytale. Finally, finally, her Valentine's Day dream was coming true.
As Pete nuzzled her neck, Monica groaned, "Thank you for the valentine." Pete pulled away, frowning at her.
"What valentine?"
The last candle had burned down to a stub, it's tiny, feeble light flickering pathetically. The shapes of the immaculate kitchen, scattered rose petals, and untouched plates of food danced weirdly on the purple walls.
And with a final sigh of resignation, Chandler blew out the final candle and sat alone in the darkness.
A/N: Not sure if I'll continue... tell me what you think and if you think they're should be more. Thanks!
*Yen*
P.S. Heyyy I got the door open!
P.P.S. Has anyone (besides Becca) heard the song "Groovy Kind of Love"? Because apparently they play it at Monica and Chandler's wedding.... or something... err... someone explain please?