Honey, Honey

A/N: I haven't written Friends fanfiction in a while and I hope my writing has improved since then. I wanted to write something simple for starters; before I might venture more deeply into this fandom again. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Remember the last time we were here?" Monica asked Chandler, linking her arm through his. They were surrounded by the blinding, blinking lights of Las Vegas. Last time she had hardly noticed them. She'd spent most of her time in the hotel – first without, and then finally together with Chandler. She remembered gambling; they had gambled much more than just money.

"Hm." Chandler was awfully quiet. He had thanked her for dragging him here after all and making him invite his father to their wedding, but she could tell something was still bothering him. Monica had hardly been able to contain her surprise when she'd seen Chandler's father. She had expected a lot – but not that much. He had hardly looked like a man at all. It made her understand Chandler even better. She knew he didn't want her to feel sorry for him and she didn't. Like she'd told him, at least his father had always been there for him. He loved his son, no matter what.

"I like your dad. He's really… something."

"I should be glad you didn't run away screaming."

"Chandler, when it comes to you I'm prepared for anything." Unconsciously, they both stopped walking and looked at each other. They'd known each other for so many years, had collected so many memories. How had he been alive before Monica? Chandler knew that his real life had only begun once they had started dating. Moments like this one reminded him how much he loved her – and how much he needed her.

"Thank you." He said and smiled at her. It was one of his genuine smiles that actually showed how handsome he truly was. A smile that Monica had come to adore. Sometimes, when her friends made fun of her and Chandler together, she needed a reminder why she had fallen in love with this man who had been her doofus friend from across the hall. This smile; it always made her heart beat faster.

"Come on, let's have some fun!" Monica tugged at his hand, but he didn't budge.

"How about we go back to our room?" He asked instead. Looking at him closely, she realized how tired he looked. There was a sadness about him no one but her would have noticed. She stopped tugging at him.

"We could have some kind of early honeymoon." He grinned at her. Monica was infected and smiled right back. Quickly, she leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. They still tasted like the beer he hadn't finished.

"Wouldn't that be cheating? Like telling someone 'Happy Birthday' too early?"

"Nah, what could go wrong now, really?" Monica's eyes grew big. She could provide him a long list with all the things that still could go wrong. Everything Rachel was in charge of was at risk in her eyes.

"Chandler, I-" He silenced her by putting a finger on her lips. Almost sadly, he shook his head no.

"Nothing can go wrong now. Do you know how hard it was for me to come here and face my dad?" Monica nodded slowly. She really had no idea. As strained as her relationship with her parents often was, there was no question she wanted them at her wedding. For them, there was no question that they would be there. Chandler always had to wonder, always had to endure.

"If I can face that… what's a wedding? After all, I'm going to marry the only woman I ever really loved." Monica didn't care that they were in the middle of a public place (it was Vegas anyway) and kissed him deeply. She felt herself melting against him and decided that an early honeymoon might not be the worst idea.

The lights outside were still blinking and neither Monica nor Chandler had the energy to get up and close the hotel drapes. Monica fought hard to keep her eyes open; she listened to the lullaby of Chandler's heartbeat and her mind was completely blank.

"You know, if we ever have kids-" That woke her up.

"If, Chandler?"

"Alright, when we have kids – I'm afraid our children won't have anything to do with me either." Monica propped herself up. She could hardly see him without the lights on, but she knew it was the safety of the darkness that made it possible for him to tackle this subject. They had hardly ever spoken about children, because she knew he hadn't been ready.

"You don't really believe that."

"Look at my dad. How would I know how to be one?"

"Chandler, no one knows how to be a parent. It's something you learn."

"You're already a parent. I could give you a baby and you'd know what to do with it."

"So would you." They both fell silent, remembering the incident with the triplets not too long ago. It made Monica smile.

"We both know that's not true."

"I know you'll be a great dad, Chandler. And remember: I always win, so consider this argument to be over." The exhaustion swapped over Monica once again. All she wanted was some sleep before they left for New York again in the morning. All the wedding madness that awaited her at home made her feel excited, but also weary.

"What if I'm not?" Chandler waited for an answer, but nothing happened. As he looked down at Monica, he saw that she had fallen asleep. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She was truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen (in real life; but he was beginning to think she was the most beautiful woman ever). He smiled at her and realized that he couldn't wait to marry her, to make her Mrs. Bing. Of course the only other Mrs. Bing was his mother and that couldn't be a good thing. Then again, he wasn't his father. Chandler pondered this. He could hardly remember what his father had looked like without make-up, so maybe he at least looked like him. But was he at all like this strange man? It was true what Monica had said, his father had always been there for him. Even when Chandler hadn't wanted him around, he had reached out to his son. He had always asked him about school, college and the girls he was dating. Until Chandler had been old enough to run away – figuratively. Still, his father hadn't let go. He had called and written to him. Chandler sighed miserably.

"Chandler, stop thinking and go to sleep." Monica said. Her voice was muffled against his chest and he felt it more than he heard it. It tickled him.

"I love you." He said and kissed her head.

"I know. I love you, too, but if you don't let me sleep I might love you a little less tomorrow."

"I can live with that." He held Monica and stared out the window. Into his father's life.

END