HI AGAIN! WELL, I'D LIKE TO BEGIN BY SAYING THAT I WISH I COULD TAKE ALL THE CREDIT FOR THIS FIC; HOWEVER, THE MAIN IDEA OF IT IS FROM THE BRAIN OF NATCHOU, WHO WOULD APPEAR TO BE A BIT OF A GENIUS, IF YOU ASK ME, AND WHO IS ALSO PLAYING THE ROLE OF EDITOR AND PLOT CONSULTANT. LOL... ANYWAY, PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK... FEEDBACK AND REVIEWS ARE GOOD! :-)
The Power of Wondering
"I can't believe you guys have been together for almost three years already," Rachel commented as she sat on the couch in Monica and Chandler's apartment.
"Yeah, I know. It seems like just yesterday that he was just 'my annoying friend Chandler,'" Monica mused, using Phoebe's words. She paused as she allowed her mind to drift back to the night they had spent together in London, but was jolted back to reality by Rachel's voice.
"Hand me the pink, would ya, Mon?" Monica handed over the requested bottle of nail polish and inspected her toes. She and Rachel hadn't had one of their makeover days in years, and she had missed them. It seemed that all of the fun stuff they'd used to do together had sort of vanished once Rachel moved out, but with Chandler at work and Monica taking the day off, they'd decided to reinstate the old tradition.
"Do you think this color suits me?" she asked, waggling her perfectly varnished toes in Rachel's direction. Rachel momentarily studied the blood-red paint that Monica had chosen.
"Oh, yeah, definitely," she said, nodding. "That's so you. I can't wear dark colors... they make me look like a vamp." She hunched over her toes once again, concentrating on her task. As Mon rested her feet on the coffee table, she sighed contentedly, reflecting on how much better her life seemed now that Chandler was in it. She couldn't wait until the day they were married and she would finally be his wife. "So," Rachel's voice broke Mon's thoughts as she continued to paint her toes, "what are your plans for tomorrow night? After all, it is your three-year anniversary... what have you guys got planned? Fancy candlelit dinner and walk through the park? Chinese takeout and a passionate romp in the sack?" Monica blushed and then threw Rachel a dirty look.
"Real eloquent, Rach," she commented. "You should be a writer... you have a way with words."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But seriously... what are you guys planning on doing?" Monica shrugged.
"I don't know, actually," she confessed. "He's planning it this year. I told him that I'd do it, but he said that with me in charge of all the wedding plans, he wanted to do this for me. So he hasn't told me what the plans are yet." Rachel chuckled.
"I'm going to laugh when you end up at Madison Square Gardens for a Ranger game, and instead of flowers you wind up with a big foam finger," she declared. Mon shook her head.
"No, it won't be anything like that," she insisted. "You guys really don't know the side of him I know. I mean, I know how you see him because that's the way I used to see him, too... but now... now that's all different." Rachel rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling at her friend's faraway expression. Monica had always been such a sucker for sappiness, and when it came to Chandler she never failed to prove it. Rach reached over and poked her on the arm, snapping her out of her trance.
"Just wanted to warn you about the string of drool that's hanging off your lower lip," she teased. Monica blushed again, quickly dropping the subject and picking up the nail polish to coat her toes a second time.
"Hey, beautiful," Chandler greeted as he entered the apartment after work. "Whoa... what the hell happened in here?" he asked, fanning the air in front of his face. "Were you painting walls or something?" Monica sniffed the air, confused, and then smiled as she realized.
"Oh... no, Rachel and I were painting our toes and stuff." He shook his head.
"No wonder women act so weird," he observed. "If I breathed in these fumes all day, I'd be a little wacko, too." Monica rolled her eyes, smiling, as he placed his briefcase by the coat stand.
"Maybe I should open a window," she contemplated aloud as Chandler walked up behind her and buried his face in her neck, breathing in the mixed scents of her shampoo, soap, and perfume.
"Mmm," he murmured, his face still hidden. "I love this smell." She turned around and faced him with a smile on her face.
"Yeah, well, I'm quite fond of yours, as well," she informed him, kissing him lightly on the mouth. "How was work?" He released her and sank onto the couch, groaning.
"Boring... as usual. But I absolutely refuse to discuss my job... or anything else, for that matter, until I get another kiss from my gorgeous fiancee." She smiled and complied, bending over him to peck him lightly once more. She yelped as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her forcefully into his lap, giggling as he hid his face in her neck once more and peppered her skin with butterfly kisses.
"Chandler," she protested, playfully swatting him with her hand. "I have a dinner to make."
"Me no hungry," he informed her, doing the Tarzan voice that she always thought made him so adorable. He paused. "Well," he corrected himself, "I guess you could say I am... hungry for a little Monica-lovin'." She laughed again and stood up.
"Whoa, there, Tarzan," she contended. "Sorry, but the food's already in the oven." She smiled at his dejected expression, and she ran her hand affectionately through his hair. "Don't worry," she advised. "Whatever you miss out on now I'll make up for tomorrow night." He tried to maintain his sulky expression, but it was no use as an impish grin slowly crept across his face.
"I'll hold you to that, Ms. Geller," he promised, as he rose from the couch and walked into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes.
"Mon, you ready?" She emerged from the bedroom, and Chandler's eyes widened as they locked on her.
"Yeah," she replied as she stopped in front of him.
"Wow... you... you look... stunning," he finished finally, wishing that he could find a better word. "Stunning" seemed inadequate, but he couldn't think of anything that said it better. She smiled, gazing up at him.
"And you look VERY handsome," she told him, meaning every word. She wondered briefly how she'd managed to go so many years without realizing just how gorgeous he was, but dismissed the thought as he helped her into her coat.
"Thank you," he said, blushing. She smiled and allowed him to lead her out of the apartment, wondering what he had in store for them.
As they sat in the elegant restaurant after their meal, Chandler smiled again as he found himself staring at her. He leaned forward and took her hand, which had been resting on the table, and grinned at her. She smiled and linked her fingers through his, loving the way their hands seemed to fit together so perfectly. He seemed to be thinking the same thing as his voice broke the comfortable silence between them. "I love you," he said, and as Monica let the words wash over her, she was touched at how they seemed to come from somewhere much more meaningful than his lips. No matter how many times he said it, she always felt a flood of combined happiness and love surge through her, just as she had the first time he'd said it.
"I love you, too," she replied, matching his smile as he sighed contentedly.
"Wait here a sec," he requested, as he rose from the table. Monica watched him go over to the ensemble that was providing the dancing music, and couldn't help smiling when he returned with a satisfied look on his face. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, grinning and holding his hand out toward her.
"I'd love to," she said, placing her napkin on the table and rising. He led her to where a few other couples were dancing and gave her a small smile as a familiar song began to play.
She's got a way about her,
Don't know what it is, but I know that I can't live without her.
She's got a way of pleasing,
Don't know why it is, but there doesn't have to be a reason anyway.
She's got a smile that heals me,
I don't know why it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me,
And she's got a way of talking,
Don't know why it is, but it lifts me up when we are walking anywhere.
She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me
Without a sound, she touches me, and I get turned around.
She's got a way of showing,
How I make her feel, and I find the strength to keep on going,
She's got a light around her, oh, everywhere she goes,
A million dreams of love surround her everywhere,
She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me,
Without a sound, she touches me, I get turned around.
She's got a smile that heals me,
Don't know why it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me,
She's got a way about her,
Don't know what it is, but I know that I can't live without her anyway.
She smiled up at him as he leaned in and softly kissed her, telling her silently how much he loved her. She sighed contentedly, resting her head on his shoulder as the last few bars of the song died down. She wondered, as she found herself doing more and more often as time wore on, what she had done to deserve such overwhelming happiness.
Monica gasped as she entered their apartment a short while later, stunned by the sight that greeted her. The apartment looked nothing like it had when they left. There were yellow roses everywhere, and candles flickered evenly from various surfaces, sending mysterious shadows dancing across the walls. She was vaguely aware of Chandler gently kissing her neck, and she finally broke the silence, still staring around the room. "Oh, Chandler," she whispered, suddenly choking up. "It's so beautiful." He stopped kissing her neck and looked around for himself. After a moment of silence, she turned to face him. "I love you so much," she whispered. "Being with you makes me so happy."
"I can see that," he said, jokingly referring to her tears. He quieted as he gazed at her. "I love you, too. Monica, you taught me how to love someone, which is something I wasn't sure I'd ever learn, and I will spend forever and always loving you. That will never change. Ever." Unable to resist, she stood on her toes and kissed him deeply, loving him so much that it almost hurt. He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the center of the room. As he passed the couch, he leaned over the back of it and grabbed two flowers. Turning to Monica, he extended first a red one. "Mon, this is for you. A red rose, which is a symbol of love and passion, both of which I have never felt as strongly as I have with you." She gazed at him, stunned. She knew Chandler was romantic, but this was far more than she had ever dreamed of anyone, even him. Handing her the second rose, he continued. "This one is white because the love I feel for you is the purest thing I know, and there is nothing in this world or any other that can change that." She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks as she remained silent. "And the rest," he said, gesturing around the room, "are yellow. Yellow roses are supposed to symbolize friendship, and Mon, as much as anything, you're my best friend. You were my best friend before I loved you, and you always will be. Friendship is the root of our relationship, and somehow that makes it mean more to me than I could have imagined." She reached up and kissed him again, a kiss so emotional that it almost scared her.
"Love is friendship caught on fire," she murmured as they parted, remembering an old quote. He smiled.
"Can't argue with that." She smiled back. "How about one more dance?" he suggested pecking her lightly on the mouth once more. She simply nodded, wondering how on earth this night could get any better. He fiddled with the stereo for a minute, and then took her in his arms as the music began to play.
Every time our eyes meet,
This feeling inside me,
Is almost more than I can take.
And baby when you touch me,
I can feel how much you love me,
And it just blows me away.
I've never been this close to anyone
Or anything,
I can hear your thoughts,
I can see your dreams,
I don't know how you do what you do,
I'm so in love with you,
It just keeps getting better.
I wanna spend the rest of my life
With you by my side
Forever and ever.
Every little thing that you do,
Baby, I'm amazed by you.
The smell of your skin,
The taste of your kiss,
The way you whisper in the dark.
Your hair all around me,
Baby you surround me,
Touch every place in my heart.
Oh, it feels like the first time every time,
I wanna spend the whole night in your arms,
I don't know how you do what you do,
I'm so in love with you,
It just keeps getting better.
I wanna spend the rest of my life
With you by my side
Forever and ever.
Every little thing that you do,
Baby, I'm amazed by you.
Every little thing that you do,
I'm so in love with you,
It just keeps getting better.
I wanna spend the rest of my life
With you by my side,
Forever and ever.
Every little thing that you do,
Baby, I'm amazed you.
As silence surrounded them once again, Monica lifted her head slowly from Chandler's chest and looked adoringly into his eyes. Wordlessly, he gazed back at her and leaned in, kissing her deeply. She could almost feel herself melt as their lips met. They must have kissed thousands of times, and yet her reaction to his sweet kisses was always the same. The first time he had kissed her he'd sent her into a spin, a spin from which she had yet to emerge, and as their kiss grew more heated, she concluded that she'd be quite content to be lost in that whirlwind for an eternity. She almost sighed as she felt his tongue enter her mouth timidly, and she moved her hands from his shoulders to his hair, pressing her body closer to his and deepening the kiss. She felt his strong arms wrap tightly around her body, pulling her closer to him. As their kisses intensified, he lifted her up effortlessly and carried her into their room, closing the door behind him. As she heard the click of the door closing, Monica broke the kiss and gazed at him, smiling. He grinned shyly back at her, and she felt her heart flutter. She loved what she called his "bedroom eyes" -- the tender, loving, and almost shy look he got whenever they were in bed together, and shortly beforehand as well. She stepped away from him, looking at him adoringly and slipping off her shoes. She watched as he did the same with his shoes and socks and he smiled as she slowly removed the clip from her hair, letting it fall around her face. He smiled, marveling for what was probably the billionth time at how beautiful she was. He slowly took off his tie and dropped it onto the floor next to his shoes. They stood there for a moment just gazing at each other before Monica took a step toward him and he welcomed her into his arms, kissing her heatedly once again. She recognized the slight sense of urgency in his kisses that always seemed to be present before they made love. She kissed him back with equaled anticipation and gently unbuttoned his dress shirt as she felt him slide her dress straps off of her shoulders. He broke their kiss and moved his mouth to the nape of her neck, lightly kissing her soft skin. Monica leaned her head to the side, encouraging him as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. She ran her hands over his bare skin while he let go of her waist to let his shirt fall the rest of the way to the floor. Embracing her once again, he slowly unzipped her dress as she unbuttoned his slacks and they discarded both, leaving them standing in only their underwear. He broke their kiss once again as he pulled away to run his eyes over her body, absorbing the familiar sight of her. "God, you're so gorgeous," he whispered, his voice weak with emotion. She smiled, blushing slightly as she gazed at him. Before she could respond, he kissed her again, wrapping his arms securely around her and lowering her onto their bed. They discarded the last few things that separated them, and as their kisses became hungrier they made love, savoring the pleasure they provided each other.
As they laid together afterward, Chandler lightly ran his fingers up and down her bare arm, raising tiny goosebumps on her skin. She loved the way he did that, and she smiled against his chest. "I love making love to you," he murmured, and she felt her heart skip a beat.
"Not as much as I do," she promised, lifting her head to smile at him. He grinned back down at her.
"Well, after all, we ARE pretty good at it, aren't we?"
She smiled. "Yeah, well, you know what they say."
"What's that?"
"Sex is the most fun you can have without laughing."
He flashed another grin. "Well, I'd have to say it's the most fun you can have, period." She chuckled, running her hand lightly over his bare chest.
"I can't wait to be your wife," she said after a moment.
"I can't wait till you're my wife, either," he answered with a contented sigh. He paused for a moment, ceasing to stroke her arm, and gently untangled their limbs.
"Where are you going?" she asked curiously. He didn't answer and rolled over to open the drawer next to the bed. She wondered what he was looking for until she heard it close and he turned to face her once again. In his hand he held what looked like a jewelry box, and he had a serious look on his face.
"Mon," he began, looking at her intently. "I was going to wait until the day before our wedding to give you this, but I want you to have it now. This," he continued, opening the box, "belonged to my grandmother." Monica drew in a sharp breath as she gazed down at the necklace. It was a beautiful chain of white gold, with tiny pearls about an inch apart all the way around. At the front there was an opal charm, slightly bigger than the pearls, which glistened and shined with dappled colors. The way in which it glinted and gave off numerous different hues made it seem almost mysterious, and she gazed up at Chandler.
"You... you want me to have it?" she asked nervously.
He nodded. "I thought... I thought maybe you could wear it to the wedding. I thought it would look elegant with a wedding dress." Monica's eyes filled with tears as she gazed at the necklace again.
"It's beautiful, Chandler."
"Which is exactly why YOU should have it," he said softly. "Why don't we see how it looks? I know you're not wearing your dress yet... but hey, it might dress up that sheet a little bit." He smiled and removed it from the box as she leaned forward to let him clasp it behind her neck.
"What do you think?" she asked timidly as he looked at it.
"Beauty for beauty," he replied, kissing her softly on the mouth. "It's perfect." She smiled as she put a hand to her throat, feeling the cool pearls against her skin.
"Thank you, sweetheart," she murmured. "I love it."
"Well, I love you," he responded, kissing her again and pulling her into his arms as they laid down again. As she listened to his breathing slowly become deeper, Monica's mind wandered as she laid in bed with his arms wrapped lovingly around her. She sighed, feeling as though her life couldn't get any better than it already was, and thought momentarily of the night they'd spent in London. "Who'd have thought that night would change the rest of my life?" she thought. "Chandler and I might have never even realized our feelings for each other." The thought scared her, and she shivered slightly. Chandler felt her shudder in his sleep, and he instinctively tightened his embrace. She sighed, feeling safe and contented in his arms. "Where on earth would I be if it weren't for London?" she thought sleepily, as she drifted off and into a dream world that she was sure couldn't be any sweeter than her own life.
Monica yawned and stretched, slightly surprised to find that Chandler had already gotten out of bed. She rose and rubbed her eyes while sleepily tying her robe around her waist and then stumbled out of the bedroom. She looked around the apartment groggily, allowing her eyes to adjust to the morning light. As she noticed that Chandler's briefcase wasn't next to the door, she suddenly got a funny feeling that, after a moment, she chose to ignore. She remained outside her bedroom door, wondering where he was and why he hadn't told her he was leaving. Suddenly the guest room door opened and Monica turned, wondering what on earth he'd been doing in the guest room.
"Rachel?"
"Mm.. Morning, Mon," Rachel answered with a yawn and an early-morning scowl that Monica vividly remembered. Monica stared at her, dumbfounded.
"What are you doing here?" Rachel stared at her momentarily and then stretched as she shook her head.
"Not now, Monica. I know it's relatively early for me to be up, but really... sarcasm is not your strong point. Leave the quips to Chandler."
"Where is Chandler?" Monica asked, baffled. "And why are you in our apartment? Did something happen with Joey or something?" Rachel stared at her for a moment, eventually breaking the silence with a simple question.
"What the hell are you talking about? Chandler's probably still asleep. And I'm here because where the hell else would I be at seven in the morning? And what has Joey got to do with any of this?" Monica continued to stare at Rachel with a look of utter amazement.
"Okay, why don't we start over?"
"Good idea," Rachel agreed, slightly annoyed.
"What are you doing here?"
"God, Monica, what the hell do you mean, 'what am I doing here?' I LIVE here."
"No, you don't. You live with Joey. Chandler lives here." Rachel stared at her, dumbfounded.
"Why would Chandler live here? And no, I don't live with Joey. I live HERE. Monica, it's seven in the morning... have you been drinking?" Mon didn't answer, and instead barged into Rachel's room, as if to illustrate her point. Instead of proving herself, she was shocked to see that all of Rachel's things were back as they had been when she lived in the apartment.
"When did you move all your stuff in?" she asked.
"Seven years ago when I ran out on Barry... Mon, honey, you're worrying me, are you okay?" Suddenly she realized. "You're sleepwalking, aren't you? I get it... okay, we're going to go back to beddie-bye..."
Monica stormed out of Rachel's bedroom and into her own, where she promptly threw open the closet doors. She felt her confusion mount as she was faced with only her own clothing and none of Chandler's. She suddenly felt as though something were terribly wrong, and she darted back out into the living room, close to tears. "Where's Chandler?" she demanded of Rachel, who was staring at Mon as though she were a circus freak.
"Probably asleep in his apartment. Mon, what on earth is going on?" Ignoring her questions, Monica exited her apartment and entered Joey's, staring at the middle of the room with a funny look on her face. There, in the center, just like they used to be, were two matching barcaloungers. The feeling of panic began to mount and she approached Chandler's door, hoping that she would see his smiling face behind it. She hastily opened the door and saw Chandler pulling a pair of jeans over his boxers.
"Jesus, Mon, what the hell are you doing?" he asked as he hastily zipped his fly.
"Oh, God, Chandler... there you are. I was so worried when I woke up and you were gone." She walked up to him and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest and breathing in the familiar scent of him.
"Whoa, Mon, what's going on. Is everything okay? What are you talking about, hon?" She felt his arms wrap tentatively around her, and she noted with confusion that it felt more like a hug from the pre-dating Chandler than the fiance Chandler. She was suddenly irritated by the fact that she was so confused and worried that she pulled away and stared at him.
"Why did you come over here?" He stared at her, confused.
"Huh?"
"What are you doing in here? And why is Rachel in our apartment?"
"Monica, this is my room... a more legitimate question would be why are YOU in here? And I presume that Rachel's in your apartment because it's her apartment, too. Monica, is everything okay? You're worrying me a little bit here."
"Why does everyone keep acting like I'M the crazy one here? And WHY do you keep saying it's Rachel's apartment? It's NOT Rachel's apartment!" Chandler stared at her for a moment, wondering what she was ranting about, when his bedroom door opened again.
"Hey, sweetie..." Kathy quieted when she saw Monica standing in the middle of Chandler's room. "What's going on?"
Monica stared at Kathy, shocked. "What's SHE doing here?!" She turned to face Chandler, her eyes flashing confusion and pain.
"She spent the night. Monica, what's going on?"
"THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW!" Monica cried, exasperated and upset. "What the hell is going on?! Why is my fiance in his old room with an ex-girlfriend? Why is my old roommate suddenly reappearing in my apartment?" Chandler shushed her quietly.
"Pete slept with an ex-girlfriend? Is that what this is about?" Monica stared at him again, more confused than ever.
"Pete? Who said anything about Pete?"
"You did. You said your fiance slept with an ex-girlfriend." After a moment of shock, Monica spoke in a strange voice.
"Pete's not my fiance," she said, in a voice mixed with terror and bafflement.
"You guys broke up?" he asked, concerned.
"Pete's not my fiance," she repeated. "You're my fiance." Chandler stared at her uneasily, now genuinely concerned about his best friend. The Monica who was usually so annoying realistic and down-to-earth was suddenly acting like a borderline schizophrenic.
"Mon, sweetie ... Pete's your fiance." He took an uneasy look at Kathy. "And Kathy's my fiancee." As Monica felt the room begin to spin, she looked from Chandler to Kathy and suddenly felt the world collapse as she fainted away into oblivion.
The Power of Wondering
"I can't believe you guys have been together for almost three years already," Rachel commented as she sat on the couch in Monica and Chandler's apartment.
"Yeah, I know. It seems like just yesterday that he was just 'my annoying friend Chandler,'" Monica mused, using Phoebe's words. She paused as she allowed her mind to drift back to the night they had spent together in London, but was jolted back to reality by Rachel's voice.
"Hand me the pink, would ya, Mon?" Monica handed over the requested bottle of nail polish and inspected her toes. She and Rachel hadn't had one of their makeover days in years, and she had missed them. It seemed that all of the fun stuff they'd used to do together had sort of vanished once Rachel moved out, but with Chandler at work and Monica taking the day off, they'd decided to reinstate the old tradition.
"Do you think this color suits me?" she asked, waggling her perfectly varnished toes in Rachel's direction. Rachel momentarily studied the blood-red paint that Monica had chosen.
"Oh, yeah, definitely," she said, nodding. "That's so you. I can't wear dark colors... they make me look like a vamp." She hunched over her toes once again, concentrating on her task. As Mon rested her feet on the coffee table, she sighed contentedly, reflecting on how much better her life seemed now that Chandler was in it. She couldn't wait until the day they were married and she would finally be his wife. "So," Rachel's voice broke Mon's thoughts as she continued to paint her toes, "what are your plans for tomorrow night? After all, it is your three-year anniversary... what have you guys got planned? Fancy candlelit dinner and walk through the park? Chinese takeout and a passionate romp in the sack?" Monica blushed and then threw Rachel a dirty look.
"Real eloquent, Rach," she commented. "You should be a writer... you have a way with words."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But seriously... what are you guys planning on doing?" Monica shrugged.
"I don't know, actually," she confessed. "He's planning it this year. I told him that I'd do it, but he said that with me in charge of all the wedding plans, he wanted to do this for me. So he hasn't told me what the plans are yet." Rachel chuckled.
"I'm going to laugh when you end up at Madison Square Gardens for a Ranger game, and instead of flowers you wind up with a big foam finger," she declared. Mon shook her head.
"No, it won't be anything like that," she insisted. "You guys really don't know the side of him I know. I mean, I know how you see him because that's the way I used to see him, too... but now... now that's all different." Rachel rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling at her friend's faraway expression. Monica had always been such a sucker for sappiness, and when it came to Chandler she never failed to prove it. Rach reached over and poked her on the arm, snapping her out of her trance.
"Just wanted to warn you about the string of drool that's hanging off your lower lip," she teased. Monica blushed again, quickly dropping the subject and picking up the nail polish to coat her toes a second time.
"Hey, beautiful," Chandler greeted as he entered the apartment after work. "Whoa... what the hell happened in here?" he asked, fanning the air in front of his face. "Were you painting walls or something?" Monica sniffed the air, confused, and then smiled as she realized.
"Oh... no, Rachel and I were painting our toes and stuff." He shook his head.
"No wonder women act so weird," he observed. "If I breathed in these fumes all day, I'd be a little wacko, too." Monica rolled her eyes, smiling, as he placed his briefcase by the coat stand.
"Maybe I should open a window," she contemplated aloud as Chandler walked up behind her and buried his face in her neck, breathing in the mixed scents of her shampoo, soap, and perfume.
"Mmm," he murmured, his face still hidden. "I love this smell." She turned around and faced him with a smile on her face.
"Yeah, well, I'm quite fond of yours, as well," she informed him, kissing him lightly on the mouth. "How was work?" He released her and sank onto the couch, groaning.
"Boring... as usual. But I absolutely refuse to discuss my job... or anything else, for that matter, until I get another kiss from my gorgeous fiancee." She smiled and complied, bending over him to peck him lightly once more. She yelped as he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her forcefully into his lap, giggling as he hid his face in her neck once more and peppered her skin with butterfly kisses.
"Chandler," she protested, playfully swatting him with her hand. "I have a dinner to make."
"Me no hungry," he informed her, doing the Tarzan voice that she always thought made him so adorable. He paused. "Well," he corrected himself, "I guess you could say I am... hungry for a little Monica-lovin'." She laughed again and stood up.
"Whoa, there, Tarzan," she contended. "Sorry, but the food's already in the oven." She smiled at his dejected expression, and she ran her hand affectionately through his hair. "Don't worry," she advised. "Whatever you miss out on now I'll make up for tomorrow night." He tried to maintain his sulky expression, but it was no use as an impish grin slowly crept across his face.
"I'll hold you to that, Ms. Geller," he promised, as he rose from the couch and walked into the bedroom to change out of his work clothes.
"Mon, you ready?" She emerged from the bedroom, and Chandler's eyes widened as they locked on her.
"Yeah," she replied as she stopped in front of him.
"Wow... you... you look... stunning," he finished finally, wishing that he could find a better word. "Stunning" seemed inadequate, but he couldn't think of anything that said it better. She smiled, gazing up at him.
"And you look VERY handsome," she told him, meaning every word. She wondered briefly how she'd managed to go so many years without realizing just how gorgeous he was, but dismissed the thought as he helped her into her coat.
"Thank you," he said, blushing. She smiled and allowed him to lead her out of the apartment, wondering what he had in store for them.
As they sat in the elegant restaurant after their meal, Chandler smiled again as he found himself staring at her. He leaned forward and took her hand, which had been resting on the table, and grinned at her. She smiled and linked her fingers through his, loving the way their hands seemed to fit together so perfectly. He seemed to be thinking the same thing as his voice broke the comfortable silence between them. "I love you," he said, and as Monica let the words wash over her, she was touched at how they seemed to come from somewhere much more meaningful than his lips. No matter how many times he said it, she always felt a flood of combined happiness and love surge through her, just as she had the first time he'd said it.
"I love you, too," she replied, matching his smile as he sighed contentedly.
"Wait here a sec," he requested, as he rose from the table. Monica watched him go over to the ensemble that was providing the dancing music, and couldn't help smiling when he returned with a satisfied look on his face. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, grinning and holding his hand out toward her.
"I'd love to," she said, placing her napkin on the table and rising. He led her to where a few other couples were dancing and gave her a small smile as a familiar song began to play.
She's got a way about her,
Don't know what it is, but I know that I can't live without her.
She's got a way of pleasing,
Don't know why it is, but there doesn't have to be a reason anyway.
She's got a smile that heals me,
I don't know why it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me,
And she's got a way of talking,
Don't know why it is, but it lifts me up when we are walking anywhere.
She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me
Without a sound, she touches me, and I get turned around.
She's got a way of showing,
How I make her feel, and I find the strength to keep on going,
She's got a light around her, oh, everywhere she goes,
A million dreams of love surround her everywhere,
She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me,
Without a sound, she touches me, I get turned around.
She's got a smile that heals me,
Don't know why it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me,
She's got a way about her,
Don't know what it is, but I know that I can't live without her anyway.
She smiled up at him as he leaned in and softly kissed her, telling her silently how much he loved her. She sighed contentedly, resting her head on his shoulder as the last few bars of the song died down. She wondered, as she found herself doing more and more often as time wore on, what she had done to deserve such overwhelming happiness.
Monica gasped as she entered their apartment a short while later, stunned by the sight that greeted her. The apartment looked nothing like it had when they left. There were yellow roses everywhere, and candles flickered evenly from various surfaces, sending mysterious shadows dancing across the walls. She was vaguely aware of Chandler gently kissing her neck, and she finally broke the silence, still staring around the room. "Oh, Chandler," she whispered, suddenly choking up. "It's so beautiful." He stopped kissing her neck and looked around for himself. After a moment of silence, she turned to face him. "I love you so much," she whispered. "Being with you makes me so happy."
"I can see that," he said, jokingly referring to her tears. He quieted as he gazed at her. "I love you, too. Monica, you taught me how to love someone, which is something I wasn't sure I'd ever learn, and I will spend forever and always loving you. That will never change. Ever." Unable to resist, she stood on her toes and kissed him deeply, loving him so much that it almost hurt. He smiled and took her hand, leading her to the center of the room. As he passed the couch, he leaned over the back of it and grabbed two flowers. Turning to Monica, he extended first a red one. "Mon, this is for you. A red rose, which is a symbol of love and passion, both of which I have never felt as strongly as I have with you." She gazed at him, stunned. She knew Chandler was romantic, but this was far more than she had ever dreamed of anyone, even him. Handing her the second rose, he continued. "This one is white because the love I feel for you is the purest thing I know, and there is nothing in this world or any other that can change that." She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks as she remained silent. "And the rest," he said, gesturing around the room, "are yellow. Yellow roses are supposed to symbolize friendship, and Mon, as much as anything, you're my best friend. You were my best friend before I loved you, and you always will be. Friendship is the root of our relationship, and somehow that makes it mean more to me than I could have imagined." She reached up and kissed him again, a kiss so emotional that it almost scared her.
"Love is friendship caught on fire," she murmured as they parted, remembering an old quote. He smiled.
"Can't argue with that." She smiled back. "How about one more dance?" he suggested pecking her lightly on the mouth once more. She simply nodded, wondering how on earth this night could get any better. He fiddled with the stereo for a minute, and then took her in his arms as the music began to play.
Every time our eyes meet,
This feeling inside me,
Is almost more than I can take.
And baby when you touch me,
I can feel how much you love me,
And it just blows me away.
I've never been this close to anyone
Or anything,
I can hear your thoughts,
I can see your dreams,
I don't know how you do what you do,
I'm so in love with you,
It just keeps getting better.
I wanna spend the rest of my life
With you by my side
Forever and ever.
Every little thing that you do,
Baby, I'm amazed by you.
The smell of your skin,
The taste of your kiss,
The way you whisper in the dark.
Your hair all around me,
Baby you surround me,
Touch every place in my heart.
Oh, it feels like the first time every time,
I wanna spend the whole night in your arms,
I don't know how you do what you do,
I'm so in love with you,
It just keeps getting better.
I wanna spend the rest of my life
With you by my side
Forever and ever.
Every little thing that you do,
Baby, I'm amazed by you.
Every little thing that you do,
I'm so in love with you,
It just keeps getting better.
I wanna spend the rest of my life
With you by my side,
Forever and ever.
Every little thing that you do,
Baby, I'm amazed you.
As silence surrounded them once again, Monica lifted her head slowly from Chandler's chest and looked adoringly into his eyes. Wordlessly, he gazed back at her and leaned in, kissing her deeply. She could almost feel herself melt as their lips met. They must have kissed thousands of times, and yet her reaction to his sweet kisses was always the same. The first time he had kissed her he'd sent her into a spin, a spin from which she had yet to emerge, and as their kiss grew more heated, she concluded that she'd be quite content to be lost in that whirlwind for an eternity. She almost sighed as she felt his tongue enter her mouth timidly, and she moved her hands from his shoulders to his hair, pressing her body closer to his and deepening the kiss. She felt his strong arms wrap tightly around her body, pulling her closer to him. As their kisses intensified, he lifted her up effortlessly and carried her into their room, closing the door behind him. As she heard the click of the door closing, Monica broke the kiss and gazed at him, smiling. He grinned shyly back at her, and she felt her heart flutter. She loved what she called his "bedroom eyes" -- the tender, loving, and almost shy look he got whenever they were in bed together, and shortly beforehand as well. She stepped away from him, looking at him adoringly and slipping off her shoes. She watched as he did the same with his shoes and socks and he smiled as she slowly removed the clip from her hair, letting it fall around her face. He smiled, marveling for what was probably the billionth time at how beautiful she was. He slowly took off his tie and dropped it onto the floor next to his shoes. They stood there for a moment just gazing at each other before Monica took a step toward him and he welcomed her into his arms, kissing her heatedly once again. She recognized the slight sense of urgency in his kisses that always seemed to be present before they made love. She kissed him back with equaled anticipation and gently unbuttoned his dress shirt as she felt him slide her dress straps off of her shoulders. He broke their kiss and moved his mouth to the nape of her neck, lightly kissing her soft skin. Monica leaned her head to the side, encouraging him as she pushed his shirt off his shoulders. She ran her hands over his bare skin while he let go of her waist to let his shirt fall the rest of the way to the floor. Embracing her once again, he slowly unzipped her dress as she unbuttoned his slacks and they discarded both, leaving them standing in only their underwear. He broke their kiss once again as he pulled away to run his eyes over her body, absorbing the familiar sight of her. "God, you're so gorgeous," he whispered, his voice weak with emotion. She smiled, blushing slightly as she gazed at him. Before she could respond, he kissed her again, wrapping his arms securely around her and lowering her onto their bed. They discarded the last few things that separated them, and as their kisses became hungrier they made love, savoring the pleasure they provided each other.
As they laid together afterward, Chandler lightly ran his fingers up and down her bare arm, raising tiny goosebumps on her skin. She loved the way he did that, and she smiled against his chest. "I love making love to you," he murmured, and she felt her heart skip a beat.
"Not as much as I do," she promised, lifting her head to smile at him. He grinned back down at her.
"Well, after all, we ARE pretty good at it, aren't we?"
She smiled. "Yeah, well, you know what they say."
"What's that?"
"Sex is the most fun you can have without laughing."
He flashed another grin. "Well, I'd have to say it's the most fun you can have, period." She chuckled, running her hand lightly over his bare chest.
"I can't wait to be your wife," she said after a moment.
"I can't wait till you're my wife, either," he answered with a contented sigh. He paused for a moment, ceasing to stroke her arm, and gently untangled their limbs.
"Where are you going?" she asked curiously. He didn't answer and rolled over to open the drawer next to the bed. She wondered what he was looking for until she heard it close and he turned to face her once again. In his hand he held what looked like a jewelry box, and he had a serious look on his face.
"Mon," he began, looking at her intently. "I was going to wait until the day before our wedding to give you this, but I want you to have it now. This," he continued, opening the box, "belonged to my grandmother." Monica drew in a sharp breath as she gazed down at the necklace. It was a beautiful chain of white gold, with tiny pearls about an inch apart all the way around. At the front there was an opal charm, slightly bigger than the pearls, which glistened and shined with dappled colors. The way in which it glinted and gave off numerous different hues made it seem almost mysterious, and she gazed up at Chandler.
"You... you want me to have it?" she asked nervously.
He nodded. "I thought... I thought maybe you could wear it to the wedding. I thought it would look elegant with a wedding dress." Monica's eyes filled with tears as she gazed at the necklace again.
"It's beautiful, Chandler."
"Which is exactly why YOU should have it," he said softly. "Why don't we see how it looks? I know you're not wearing your dress yet... but hey, it might dress up that sheet a little bit." He smiled and removed it from the box as she leaned forward to let him clasp it behind her neck.
"What do you think?" she asked timidly as he looked at it.
"Beauty for beauty," he replied, kissing her softly on the mouth. "It's perfect." She smiled as she put a hand to her throat, feeling the cool pearls against her skin.
"Thank you, sweetheart," she murmured. "I love it."
"Well, I love you," he responded, kissing her again and pulling her into his arms as they laid down again. As she listened to his breathing slowly become deeper, Monica's mind wandered as she laid in bed with his arms wrapped lovingly around her. She sighed, feeling as though her life couldn't get any better than it already was, and thought momentarily of the night they'd spent in London. "Who'd have thought that night would change the rest of my life?" she thought. "Chandler and I might have never even realized our feelings for each other." The thought scared her, and she shivered slightly. Chandler felt her shudder in his sleep, and he instinctively tightened his embrace. She sighed, feeling safe and contented in his arms. "Where on earth would I be if it weren't for London?" she thought sleepily, as she drifted off and into a dream world that she was sure couldn't be any sweeter than her own life.
Monica yawned and stretched, slightly surprised to find that Chandler had already gotten out of bed. She rose and rubbed her eyes while sleepily tying her robe around her waist and then stumbled out of the bedroom. She looked around the apartment groggily, allowing her eyes to adjust to the morning light. As she noticed that Chandler's briefcase wasn't next to the door, she suddenly got a funny feeling that, after a moment, she chose to ignore. She remained outside her bedroom door, wondering where he was and why he hadn't told her he was leaving. Suddenly the guest room door opened and Monica turned, wondering what on earth he'd been doing in the guest room.
"Rachel?"
"Mm.. Morning, Mon," Rachel answered with a yawn and an early-morning scowl that Monica vividly remembered. Monica stared at her, dumbfounded.
"What are you doing here?" Rachel stared at her momentarily and then stretched as she shook her head.
"Not now, Monica. I know it's relatively early for me to be up, but really... sarcasm is not your strong point. Leave the quips to Chandler."
"Where is Chandler?" Monica asked, baffled. "And why are you in our apartment? Did something happen with Joey or something?" Rachel stared at her for a moment, eventually breaking the silence with a simple question.
"What the hell are you talking about? Chandler's probably still asleep. And I'm here because where the hell else would I be at seven in the morning? And what has Joey got to do with any of this?" Monica continued to stare at Rachel with a look of utter amazement.
"Okay, why don't we start over?"
"Good idea," Rachel agreed, slightly annoyed.
"What are you doing here?"
"God, Monica, what the hell do you mean, 'what am I doing here?' I LIVE here."
"No, you don't. You live with Joey. Chandler lives here." Rachel stared at her, dumbfounded.
"Why would Chandler live here? And no, I don't live with Joey. I live HERE. Monica, it's seven in the morning... have you been drinking?" Mon didn't answer, and instead barged into Rachel's room, as if to illustrate her point. Instead of proving herself, she was shocked to see that all of Rachel's things were back as they had been when she lived in the apartment.
"When did you move all your stuff in?" she asked.
"Seven years ago when I ran out on Barry... Mon, honey, you're worrying me, are you okay?" Suddenly she realized. "You're sleepwalking, aren't you? I get it... okay, we're going to go back to beddie-bye..."
Monica stormed out of Rachel's bedroom and into her own, where she promptly threw open the closet doors. She felt her confusion mount as she was faced with only her own clothing and none of Chandler's. She suddenly felt as though something were terribly wrong, and she darted back out into the living room, close to tears. "Where's Chandler?" she demanded of Rachel, who was staring at Mon as though she were a circus freak.
"Probably asleep in his apartment. Mon, what on earth is going on?" Ignoring her questions, Monica exited her apartment and entered Joey's, staring at the middle of the room with a funny look on her face. There, in the center, just like they used to be, were two matching barcaloungers. The feeling of panic began to mount and she approached Chandler's door, hoping that she would see his smiling face behind it. She hastily opened the door and saw Chandler pulling a pair of jeans over his boxers.
"Jesus, Mon, what the hell are you doing?" he asked as he hastily zipped his fly.
"Oh, God, Chandler... there you are. I was so worried when I woke up and you were gone." She walked up to him and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest and breathing in the familiar scent of him.
"Whoa, Mon, what's going on. Is everything okay? What are you talking about, hon?" She felt his arms wrap tentatively around her, and she noted with confusion that it felt more like a hug from the pre-dating Chandler than the fiance Chandler. She was suddenly irritated by the fact that she was so confused and worried that she pulled away and stared at him.
"Why did you come over here?" He stared at her, confused.
"Huh?"
"What are you doing in here? And why is Rachel in our apartment?"
"Monica, this is my room... a more legitimate question would be why are YOU in here? And I presume that Rachel's in your apartment because it's her apartment, too. Monica, is everything okay? You're worrying me a little bit here."
"Why does everyone keep acting like I'M the crazy one here? And WHY do you keep saying it's Rachel's apartment? It's NOT Rachel's apartment!" Chandler stared at her for a moment, wondering what she was ranting about, when his bedroom door opened again.
"Hey, sweetie..." Kathy quieted when she saw Monica standing in the middle of Chandler's room. "What's going on?"
Monica stared at Kathy, shocked. "What's SHE doing here?!" She turned to face Chandler, her eyes flashing confusion and pain.
"She spent the night. Monica, what's going on?"
"THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO KNOW!" Monica cried, exasperated and upset. "What the hell is going on?! Why is my fiance in his old room with an ex-girlfriend? Why is my old roommate suddenly reappearing in my apartment?" Chandler shushed her quietly.
"Pete slept with an ex-girlfriend? Is that what this is about?" Monica stared at him again, more confused than ever.
"Pete? Who said anything about Pete?"
"You did. You said your fiance slept with an ex-girlfriend." After a moment of shock, Monica spoke in a strange voice.
"Pete's not my fiance," she said, in a voice mixed with terror and bafflement.
"You guys broke up?" he asked, concerned.
"Pete's not my fiance," she repeated. "You're my fiance." Chandler stared at her uneasily, now genuinely concerned about his best friend. The Monica who was usually so annoying realistic and down-to-earth was suddenly acting like a borderline schizophrenic.
"Mon, sweetie ... Pete's your fiance." He took an uneasy look at Kathy. "And Kathy's my fiancee." As Monica felt the room begin to spin, she looked from Chandler to Kathy and suddenly felt the world collapse as she fainted away into oblivion.