"All right, all right. You win. I can't have sex with you,"
"And why not?"
"Because I'm in love with Monica!"
The look on Phoebe's face changed from triumph to shock in a second. She had wanted a confession, but she hadn't expected words like 'love' to be thrown around. Chandler completely understood how she was feeling. It had been the last thing he expected to say as well, but now it had burst out instead of panicking, like would be expected of him, and what had happened last time, at Thanksgiving, he just went with it.
"You're what?"
"Love! That's right. I. Love. Her. I. Love. Her."
Chandler finally noticed Monica walking towards him, and that's when he started panicking. He had been so caught up in the adrenaline of the secret being out, their affair being exposed, his feelings being released, that he had never considered – what if it was just a fling to her? It had started of as 'just a London thing' after all. Started as a one night stand because Monica was drunk and depressed. He had assumed, as they went on and stopped talking about how they were just 'goofing around' and other words like that, that she was serious, and thought it was a real relationship. But he didn't really know.
For the first time Chandler could remember he successfully suppressed the instinct to run away. If he was going to get shot down, he was going to go down in flames.
Besides, it was Monica. He had to try.
He held her and told her quietly, "I love you, Monica,"
And his heart soured when he heard the words back. He should have known really, anybody, but especially Monica, who would put dead poultry on their head just to apologise, had to be in love.
Joey didn't count; he would do literally anything for a laugh.
…
Chandler held Monica later, after dealing with, or, to be more accurate, hiding behind Monica whilst Monica convinced Ross that their relationship was a good thing, and definitely remembering to close the blinds this time.
"I'm sorry," Chandler said out of the blue,
"What!" and Chandler immediately berated himself. Monica didn't know what he was apologising for. For all she knew he could be apologising for telling her he loved her and taking it all back. She had a right to panic, he was doing this all wrong.
"No. Nothing bad, I mean, I kinda thought that when, you know, I got round to telling you – you," he started to mumble. He might not be immediately running away but he was more hopeless than most people at talking about his feelings, "I loved you," he gave Monica an embarrassed smile, which she returned, "I kind of thought about doing it properly, you know, in a fancy restaurant where the natural instinct is to run away from the prices and with wine and stuff."
Monica gave a reassuring smile, "You're so sweet. But you know, it doesn't really matter when and where, I mean, don't get me wrong, it's great if a guy says he loves you in a candlelit dinner or whatever, but what matters is you mean it and it's the right guy. And you, honey, are the right guy."
