Okay... this is what could have happened if Chandler had found out about Monica's lunch with Richard BEFORE "TO in Vegas." He gets worked up, understandably, and basically screws up, a la Ross in "TOW Ross and Rachel Take a Break." Let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: They only belong to me if you can somehow find "obsession" and "possession" to be synonymous. Otherwise, they belong to a lot of smart, funny, rich people, of whom I am eternally envious.
Jealous Guy
"Hey, Pheebs," Chandler greeted as he entered Monica and Rachel's apartment.
"Mmmhmm," Phoebe replied, immersed in her magazine.
"What's up?"
"Eh."
"Whatcha reading?"
"Umph."
"Hey, guess what, I spent the afternoon in a crackhouse and met some mighty nice hookers."
"Uh-huh," she replied, still not looking up. Chandler sighed and leaned in to see the cover of what she was reading.
"Psychic Weekly," he read. "Looks... interesting." When she offered no response, he shrugged, glancing toward Monica's room to see if she was inside.
"Where's Mon?" he asked, noting that she didn't appear to be in the apartment.
"She hasn't gotten back from her lunch with Richard yet," Phoebe replied absently. If he hadn't been so surprised at what the response WAS, Chandler would have been proud of the fact that he'd gotten a response from her at all.
"Her lunch with who?" Phoebe's head suddenly jerked up as she realized what she'd said, and she became flushed as she tried to think of a way to get her foot out of her mouth.
"Um... Mitchard. Yeah, you know, Jacquelyn Mitchard? Nice girl."
"Phoebe... Jacquelyn Mitchard is an author... her book was made into a movie."
Phoebe paused, contemplating this. "Oh, no," she said, in her typical Phoebe way.
"What do you mean, her lunch with Richard?" he asked, feeling a combined feeling of annoyance, fear, and jealousy rise within him.
"Listen, Chandler, don't freak out. It's nothing... just lunch, it's not, like, a date or anything. Trust me, it's nothing to get all... y'know... twirly about." He was silent for a moment as he stared at her.
"And when exactly did she make this lunch date?" he asked evenly.
"Um, I think yesterday," she replied apprehensively. "She ran into him at the store, I think." Chandler stared at her for a moment and turned to walk out.
"Chandler, don't be upset. She doesn't have feelings for him or anything!" There was no response from Chandler's retreating figure as he closed the door behind him. Phoebe sighed, knowing that Monica was going to be angry with her, and that Chandler was dismayed at the idea of Monica being out with an ex. She put her magazine down and sighed, wishing that, for just once, she hadn't decided to spend her free time in Monica's apartment.
As he threw back his third shot, Chandler glared at the glass in his hands and blinked. He felt the combined feelings of pain, jealousy, and betrayal swimming within him, and he nodded toward the bartender silently, asking for another shot. He felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He'd actually been stupid enough to believe that Monica loved him the same way he loved her. Feeling foolish and humiliated, he shook his head in self-ridicule. "Serves me right," he thought bitterly. "Serves me right for falling for her. I should have known... why on Earth would someone like Monica go for someone like me?" Glumly, he drank what the bartender placed in front of him. "I guess it was only a matter of time," he thought as he felt his eyes sting. "Richard was the love of her life, after all. I was just... a distraction. Something to pass the time until he came back into her life." He sighed. "It's obvious she still loves him. I mean, why else wouldn't she tell me that she was going to see him?" As he sat at the bar being self-deprecating and angry, he could feel the liquor gradually warming him up. "I don't need her," he finally decided as he threw back another shot. "I mean, sure, she was hot and everything... but it's not like I NEED her. I'm a free man now. I can do whatever I want. Monica's not the only woman out there." He sat up a little straighter and nodded as the bartender filled his glass again.
"Hey, Pheebs," Monica greeted as she entered her apartment.
"Uh-huh," Phoebe replied, wondering how to tell Monica that she'd spilled the beans to Chandler about her impromptu lunch with Richard. She cleared her throat nervously. "Uh, Mon? What would you do if I told you that I told Chandler something that you didn't tell me not to tell him, but that if I did tell him, you might not be too happy that I told?" Monica stared at her blankly, trying in vain to decipher what she'd just said.
"What?" she eventually asked.
"What would you do if I told you that I told Chandler something that you didn't tell me--" She was cut off by Monica shaking her head and holding up her hands.
"No, Pheebs... okay. Let's try this. What did you tell Chandler?"
"I uh, I told him that you were out at lunch with Richard," she answered nervously.
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Mon, I wasn't thinking... Psychic Laura had just predicted that someone like me would be rich and successful by next month." Monica shook her head, ultimately deciding to leave that alone, and instead concentrated on Chandler.
"What did he say?" she asked after a moment.
"Uh, well, he just asked when you made this lunch date and then he left." Monica sank into a chair beside her, swatting Phoebe's hand away as she began to cleanse her aura.
"Not now, Pheebs, she said tiredly. "Was he upset? Oh, man, I know he was. He probably thinks I'm cheating on him or something... oh, no. I have to find him... God, I never should have gone out with Richard in the first place."
"Well, duh," Phoebe said. Then, off of Monica's look, she added, "I tell ya what, I'm just going to keep my mouth shut." Mon nodded and put her head in her hands.
"Jeez... he's probably so upset with me," she mumbled. "Is he in his apartment?"
"I don't think so. Joey stopped by a little while ago wondering where he was." Monica sighed and stood up from the table.
"Okay," she said. "I'm going to go change while I figure out what to do." Phoebe nodded guiltily as Monica went into her bedroom. As she changed out of her work clothes, Monica's mind was racing as she thought about Chandler. "How am I going to assure him that it meant nothing?" she wondered to herself. "I know I'd be upset if he went out to lunch with Kathy and didn't tell me about it... ugh, why did I even agree to go to lunch with Richard anyway? It's not like I even like him anymore." She brightened slightly. "Maybe Chandler knows that. Maybe he'll realize that I don't feel anything for Richard and won't be angry with me." She sulked again as she became aware of how unlikely that was. She knew Chandler almost as well as she knew herself, and she knew his insecurities. She was painfully aware of the fact that he was probably somewhere alone, moping and hurt, thinking that she didn't love him. She knew, also, that he was probably drinking, given that he wasn't at home. She sighed as she pulled a sweatshirt over her head, and smiled when she realized it was one of Chandler's old college sweatshirts. She loved the fact that it still smelled faintly of him, even though she'd had it for at least a month. Quickly tying her hair back, she emerged from her room and stopped, standing in the middle of the apartment, wondering what she should do. She eventually realized that it was unlikely if not impossible that she would find him if she tried, so she decided to simply wait until she got home. Glancing at Phoebe's still-apologetic face, she sank into the couch to wait.
Downing yet another mouthful of liquor, Chandler felt himself becoming more and more apathetic toward his situation. "What do I care if Monica sleeps with Richard?" he thought indifferently. "Makes no difference to me." Deep down, despite his drunken state, he knew he DID care if she slept with Richard, and that alone made him even more upset than what he was initially angry about.
"Hey there, handsome," came a voice from beside him. He turned his head toward it, and squinted as he tried to make out who had uttered the words. "Drowning your sorrows all alone?" Chandler nodded slightly as he stared at her.
"Do I know you?" he eventually managed. The woman smiled and sat next to him.
"I guess you don't recognize me with hair then, huh?" He stared at her, momentarily perplexed, and then frowned as he looked more closely at her.
"Bonnie?" She grinned.
"Yup."
"Ross's ex-Bonnie?"
"Yeah... that's my full name, y'know." He shook his head.
"Sorry. It's just... you look so... different. You know... with hair and stuff." She smiled again.
"Yeah, well, the place I work at isn't too fond of bald employees."
"Where do you work?" Chandler asked, taking a sip of the beer that he had ordered, having decided to take a break from the straight shots that had already made him quite inebriated.
"Spinners," she replied, and Chandler immediately spit out a mouthful of beer across the bar.
"You're a stripper?" he asked, wide-eyed, when he had wiped his mouth. She grinned.
"Yup. Finally found something I'm good at." When he only stared at her, she elaborated. "Taking my clothes off." She smiled, satisfied, when he seemed to be speechless. "Buy a girl a drink?" she asked, scooting her barstool closer to him. He nodded dumbly and waved the bartender down, still staring at Bonnie. "So," she began once she had gotten her drink. "What is it that drove you to a bar to get drunk alone?" Chandler shrugged, not wanting to have to think about Monica and Richard anymore.
"I think I lost my girlfriend to her ex," he replied simply, looking up surprised when she snorted.
"Yeah, well, you know that I'm familiar with that whole situation, given that a certain 'ex' is why Ross and I broke up." Chandler nodded as she took a sip of her drink. "But hey," she continued with a smile. "I figure, it's a hell of a lot more fun not to have anyone to answer to, right? I mean, here I am... I can see whoever I want, whenever I want. I don't have to make excuses or defend myself... I just do what I want to do. It's great." Chandler nodded again and she smiled. "I think you've had enough," she said as he finished his beer. "Whaddaya say we get out of here? Go someplace a little more fun."
"Like your place of employment?" Chandler quipped, his words slightly slurred.
"Actually," she replied, sliding her hand up his leg. "I was thinking more like your place of residence." Chandler stared at her, surprised, as her hand moved to the inside of his thigh.
"Check, please" he said to the bartender, his eyes still locked on Bonnie.
"Mon, sweetie, you've got to get some sleep," Rachel murmured as she came out of her room in her pajamas, having clearly been asleep. Monica just nodded dully as she sat on the window seat, staring gloomily into the dark city sky. "Look, Mon, regardless of when he gets home, he's not going to come over here. He'll figure you're asleep and won't want to wake you. Let it be until morning, okay?" Monica finally turned and looked at her and nodded resignedly. She knew that Rachel was right, but at the same time she couldn't imagine being able to sleep wondering where Chandler was and what he was doing. She sighed and went into her room after saying goodnight to Rach. Instead of changing into her pajamas, she simply slipped off her jeans and left Chandler's college sweatshirt on. If she couldn't sleep wrapped in his arms, this was probably the next best thing, although it was a distant, distant, distant second. She crawled into bed and glanced at the clock on her nightstand that read 2:08. "Rachel's probably right," she thought finally, trying to erase the fears from her mind that told her that she'd probably lost Chandler altogether. She turned onto her side and gazed at his side of the bed. "It was just a stupid misunderstanding," she told herself as she buried her face in the pillow he'd slept on the night before and breathed in the scent of him.
As Chandler woke the next morning, he could feel the familiar banging in his head that told him he'd had more to drink the night before than one might have thought humanly possible. He stretched and rolled over to snuggle up to the warmth Monica was providing from beside him. As he did, however, he noticed the blond hair that was peeking out from under the comforter, and he froze. Blond? He hastily scooted away from the sleeping figure and racked his brain, trying to remember what had happened the night before. All he could remember was being upset about Monica going out with Richard. Then what had happened? "Liquor," he decided with a groan. "Lots of liquor." Suddenly the person next to him stretched and he froze, almost hoping that she wouldn't wake up so that he'd have another minute to collect his thoughts. When Bonnie's face emerged, pieces of the night before swam in his hazy mind as he stared at her. "Morning," she greeted him with a casual smile. He nodded, not trusting his voice. How on earth was he going to get out of this mess? What was he going to do when Monica found out? Maybe she wouldn't find out. Maybe he'd be able to avoid hurting her. But then he would be forced to live with the guilt of knowing he'd been unfaithful, and for a split second he wasn't sure which was worse: living with the knowledge that he was scum, or having her find out. "The first one," he decided. "At least if she doesn't know, I won't lose her." The thought of losing her because of something so stupid made him hate himself in that moment, and he wished he could go back to last night. It would be one thing to lose her because of Richard coming back into the picture, but to lose her because of his own stupidity was another thing altogether. "You okay?" she asked lightly. He nodded again as he stared at her, knowing that whatever had happened with Bonnie the night before was certainly not worth the price he would undoubtedly have to pay.
As Monica entered the apartment, she glanced around and noted that Chandler was either in his bedroom or he wasn't home. She walked slowly toward his room, suddenly nervous. What was she going to say to explain why she'd had lunch with Richard the day before? How was she going to make him believe the truth: that Richard meant absolutely nothing to her? She knew it was a stupid thing to do, having lunch with him, but in a way she wanted to go to prove to both herself and to him that she was over him, and, thanks to Chandler, probably, she'd realized that that couldn't be more true. She took a deep breath as she gently pushed open his bedroom door and she froze when she saw him. Regardless of the fact that he was asleep, he had a troubled look on his face and she suddenly felt guilty for putting him through whatever it was that he had been feeling. She tiptoed over to the bed and sat on the edge. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at her for a moment. He felt his stomach flip as he realized how lucky he was that Bonnie had left not fifteen minutes beforehand. "Hey," he said uneasily.
"Hey," she replied. Both were silent for a moment, and Monica wondered how to start.
"Chandler, I'm sorry about going out to lunch with Richard yesterday. You have to believe me when I tell you that it meant nothing. I don't feel anything for him anymore, and I guess a part of me thought that going out with him yesterday would confirm it. I'm sorry, both that I did it and that you found out the way you did. I understand why you're angry with me, but I want you to know that nothing happened, and nothing would ever happen. I don't love him, I love you." Chandler sighed and sat up.
"You don't have to apologize, Mon," he said quietly, feeling the guilt wash over him like a tidal wave. Here she was, apologizing for something as trite as having lunch with an ex, and he had gone and slept with some random girl that he didn't even had feelings for. He suddenly felt like the worst person on earth.
"But--" He shook his head and placed his fingertips on her mouth.
"It's done. Finished."
"You forgive me?" she asked hopefully. A funny look crossed his face as he noted the irony of the situation: her asking for forgiveness when he was the one who'd actually done something wrong. He pushed the thoughts away and nodded, her relieved look almost breaking his heart. She hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back, suddenly cherishing the way she fit into his arms so comfortably, while at the same time wishing he had more of a spine.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he replied softly, hoping with all his heart that there would never come a time when she would refuse to tell him that she loved him, and hoping there would never come a time when she didn't feel it.
"So you guys are all okay now?" Rachel asked hopefully. Monica nodded thoughtfully as she scrubbed a pan the next day.
"Yeah, we're okay," she answered. "He's been acting a little weird, but I guess that's normal... I mean, I freaked him out, obviously. I guess it's just going to take a little while for him to be secure again."
"Well, don't worry, Mon," Rach said reassuringly. "He's not Ross, after all... you guys are meant to be together. HE wouldn't screw that up." Monica nodded, hoping that Rachel was right.
"Half a pound, please," Monica told the butcher as she watched him select a piece of salmon and place it on the scale. She'd decided to make one of Chandler's favorite dishes outside of macaroni and cheese with cut-up hot dogs. Although he'd been a little uncomfortable for the past week, things had more or less gone back to normal and she was so grateful that he'd forgiven her that she knew she would happily cook whatever he wanted her to. She thanked the butcher as he handed her the fish and turned to leave the butchery, bumping into someone as she did so. "Sorry," she said hastily.
"Excuse me," the woman replied. Then added, "Monica?" Mon looked up to see who it was she'd run into and for a moment she didn't recognize the woman. Then she remembered.
"Oh, hello, Bonnie," she said with a small smile. Although she'd thought Bonnie was a little bit wild, she'd felt sorry for her when Ross dumped her so suddenly for the chance to get back together with Rachel. "How are you?"
"I'm great, thanks," Bonnie said with a grin. "Wow, I'm just running into you guys all over the place this week!" Monica stared at her for a moment, puzzled.
"Pardon?"
"You guys. Your... 'gang.' You seem to be popping up everywhere!" Monica smiled, confused, and she wondered if, in addition to being a bit wild, Bonnie was on drugs. Then she realized that she must have run into one of the others at some point in time. She smiled again.
"Yeah, once you get into our loop, it's hard to get out," Monica said with a smile.
"Seems that way. Although, from the other night, yours is a loop I wouldn't mind being a part of. Those guys are something." Monica looked at her for a moment and realized it was probably the obvious connection.
"Joey?" she asked knowingly.
"Not yet," Bonnie replied with a grin. "But with the way I keep showing up in your little clique, you never know."
"You slept with Ross?" Monica asked, confused. She wondered how Rachel would feel about that, but decided that it had nothing to do with Rachel anyway. If anything, Bonnie should hate Rach, not the other way around.
"No, Chandler," Bonnie said simply. "Two down, one to go," she added with a smile. Monica suddenly felt dizzy.
"What?" she asked uneasily.
"That Chandler guy," Bonnie repeated. "I knew he was funny, but I never knew he was great at other stuff, too."
"You... you slept with Chandler?" Monica asked, her voice shaking and her palms breaking into a sweat.
"Yeah," Bonnie replied. "Ran into him at a bar. Something about breaking up with his girlfriend or something." Monica felt as though the room was closing in on her, and she suddenly felt claustrophobic.
She mumbled something along the lines of, "Nice seeing you, I have to go," and burst out of the butchery, trying to catch her breath. As the cool air surrounded her, she felt a turmoil of emotions swirling around inside her, and she tried to sort them out. Surely Bonnie had somehow been mistaken? After all, she hadn't known the gang for that long. Maybe she was actually silly enough to confuse Joey and Chandler. She suddenly found that she had no interest in buying any more groceries, and she hailed a cab and headed home.
"Hey, Mon," Chandler greeted her as he walked into her apartment. She was sitting on the couch, facing the TV, which was switched off. As she heard his voice, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She quickly asked the higher powers to make sure that what she was going to ask Chandler about was all a huge misunderstanding, and that her heart wouldn't be broken like she feared. She turned and faced him, and he noted that she had a strange look on her face. "You okay?" he asked after a moment, when she didn't return his greeting. She took another deep breath and stared at him.
"I ran into Bonnie today," she said evenly, and his reaction confirmed her suspicion.
"Mon, I can explain--" he stared at her anxiously, wondering if he could, in fact, explain. As soon as he spoke, Mon felt her heart shatter as she realized that Bonnie had been telling the truth. She looked at him angrily, knowing that the tears weren't far.
"Get out," she said in a voice he'd never heard before.
"Monica, please," he begged, his pain written clearly across his face.
"Get the hell out," she said in the same cold voice, and he felt his heart breaking as he looked at her. Suddenly her manner went from icy calm to fiery anger. "Go! I never want to see you again, you bastard! Get out!" She could feel the tears rolling freely down her cheeks as he looked at her sadly, begging her silently not to make him leave. "Out!" she yelled, turning and running into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Chandler stared at the door helplessly, feeling as though his world was collapsing. He wanted to go into her room and hold her and beg for her forgiveness, but at the same time he was afraid. Not afraid of her anger, but afraid of her pain. Seeing how hurt she was would undoubtedly hurt him as well, and he was fairly certain he wasn't strong enough to handle it. Although he was too afraid and ashamed to go into her room, he couldn't bring himself to leave the apartment. He felt almost as though, if he left, things would be forever different and would never go back to normal. "Moron," he said to himself. "Things are different, regardless of whether you stay or leave." He looked sadly at Monica's door and silently left the apartment.
LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE THIS IDEA ... THE NEXT PART MIGHT TAKE A LITTLE TIME BECAUSE I HAVE A FEW DIFFERENT THINGS IN THE WORKS ... DEPENDS ON WHETHER PEOPLE ARE RECEPTIVE OR NOT. EITHER WAY, PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! THANKS FOR READING! :)
Disclaimer: They only belong to me if you can somehow find "obsession" and "possession" to be synonymous. Otherwise, they belong to a lot of smart, funny, rich people, of whom I am eternally envious.
Jealous Guy
"Hey, Pheebs," Chandler greeted as he entered Monica and Rachel's apartment.
"Mmmhmm," Phoebe replied, immersed in her magazine.
"What's up?"
"Eh."
"Whatcha reading?"
"Umph."
"Hey, guess what, I spent the afternoon in a crackhouse and met some mighty nice hookers."
"Uh-huh," she replied, still not looking up. Chandler sighed and leaned in to see the cover of what she was reading.
"Psychic Weekly," he read. "Looks... interesting." When she offered no response, he shrugged, glancing toward Monica's room to see if she was inside.
"Where's Mon?" he asked, noting that she didn't appear to be in the apartment.
"She hasn't gotten back from her lunch with Richard yet," Phoebe replied absently. If he hadn't been so surprised at what the response WAS, Chandler would have been proud of the fact that he'd gotten a response from her at all.
"Her lunch with who?" Phoebe's head suddenly jerked up as she realized what she'd said, and she became flushed as she tried to think of a way to get her foot out of her mouth.
"Um... Mitchard. Yeah, you know, Jacquelyn Mitchard? Nice girl."
"Phoebe... Jacquelyn Mitchard is an author... her book was made into a movie."
Phoebe paused, contemplating this. "Oh, no," she said, in her typical Phoebe way.
"What do you mean, her lunch with Richard?" he asked, feeling a combined feeling of annoyance, fear, and jealousy rise within him.
"Listen, Chandler, don't freak out. It's nothing... just lunch, it's not, like, a date or anything. Trust me, it's nothing to get all... y'know... twirly about." He was silent for a moment as he stared at her.
"And when exactly did she make this lunch date?" he asked evenly.
"Um, I think yesterday," she replied apprehensively. "She ran into him at the store, I think." Chandler stared at her for a moment and turned to walk out.
"Chandler, don't be upset. She doesn't have feelings for him or anything!" There was no response from Chandler's retreating figure as he closed the door behind him. Phoebe sighed, knowing that Monica was going to be angry with her, and that Chandler was dismayed at the idea of Monica being out with an ex. She put her magazine down and sighed, wishing that, for just once, she hadn't decided to spend her free time in Monica's apartment.
As he threw back his third shot, Chandler glared at the glass in his hands and blinked. He felt the combined feelings of pain, jealousy, and betrayal swimming within him, and he nodded toward the bartender silently, asking for another shot. He felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. He'd actually been stupid enough to believe that Monica loved him the same way he loved her. Feeling foolish and humiliated, he shook his head in self-ridicule. "Serves me right," he thought bitterly. "Serves me right for falling for her. I should have known... why on Earth would someone like Monica go for someone like me?" Glumly, he drank what the bartender placed in front of him. "I guess it was only a matter of time," he thought as he felt his eyes sting. "Richard was the love of her life, after all. I was just... a distraction. Something to pass the time until he came back into her life." He sighed. "It's obvious she still loves him. I mean, why else wouldn't she tell me that she was going to see him?" As he sat at the bar being self-deprecating and angry, he could feel the liquor gradually warming him up. "I don't need her," he finally decided as he threw back another shot. "I mean, sure, she was hot and everything... but it's not like I NEED her. I'm a free man now. I can do whatever I want. Monica's not the only woman out there." He sat up a little straighter and nodded as the bartender filled his glass again.
"Hey, Pheebs," Monica greeted as she entered her apartment.
"Uh-huh," Phoebe replied, wondering how to tell Monica that she'd spilled the beans to Chandler about her impromptu lunch with Richard. She cleared her throat nervously. "Uh, Mon? What would you do if I told you that I told Chandler something that you didn't tell me not to tell him, but that if I did tell him, you might not be too happy that I told?" Monica stared at her blankly, trying in vain to decipher what she'd just said.
"What?" she eventually asked.
"What would you do if I told you that I told Chandler something that you didn't tell me--" She was cut off by Monica shaking her head and holding up her hands.
"No, Pheebs... okay. Let's try this. What did you tell Chandler?"
"I uh, I told him that you were out at lunch with Richard," she answered nervously.
"What?"
"I'm sorry, Mon, I wasn't thinking... Psychic Laura had just predicted that someone like me would be rich and successful by next month." Monica shook her head, ultimately deciding to leave that alone, and instead concentrated on Chandler.
"What did he say?" she asked after a moment.
"Uh, well, he just asked when you made this lunch date and then he left." Monica sank into a chair beside her, swatting Phoebe's hand away as she began to cleanse her aura.
"Not now, Pheebs, she said tiredly. "Was he upset? Oh, man, I know he was. He probably thinks I'm cheating on him or something... oh, no. I have to find him... God, I never should have gone out with Richard in the first place."
"Well, duh," Phoebe said. Then, off of Monica's look, she added, "I tell ya what, I'm just going to keep my mouth shut." Mon nodded and put her head in her hands.
"Jeez... he's probably so upset with me," she mumbled. "Is he in his apartment?"
"I don't think so. Joey stopped by a little while ago wondering where he was." Monica sighed and stood up from the table.
"Okay," she said. "I'm going to go change while I figure out what to do." Phoebe nodded guiltily as Monica went into her bedroom. As she changed out of her work clothes, Monica's mind was racing as she thought about Chandler. "How am I going to assure him that it meant nothing?" she wondered to herself. "I know I'd be upset if he went out to lunch with Kathy and didn't tell me about it... ugh, why did I even agree to go to lunch with Richard anyway? It's not like I even like him anymore." She brightened slightly. "Maybe Chandler knows that. Maybe he'll realize that I don't feel anything for Richard and won't be angry with me." She sulked again as she became aware of how unlikely that was. She knew Chandler almost as well as she knew herself, and she knew his insecurities. She was painfully aware of the fact that he was probably somewhere alone, moping and hurt, thinking that she didn't love him. She knew, also, that he was probably drinking, given that he wasn't at home. She sighed as she pulled a sweatshirt over her head, and smiled when she realized it was one of Chandler's old college sweatshirts. She loved the fact that it still smelled faintly of him, even though she'd had it for at least a month. Quickly tying her hair back, she emerged from her room and stopped, standing in the middle of the apartment, wondering what she should do. She eventually realized that it was unlikely if not impossible that she would find him if she tried, so she decided to simply wait until she got home. Glancing at Phoebe's still-apologetic face, she sank into the couch to wait.
Downing yet another mouthful of liquor, Chandler felt himself becoming more and more apathetic toward his situation. "What do I care if Monica sleeps with Richard?" he thought indifferently. "Makes no difference to me." Deep down, despite his drunken state, he knew he DID care if she slept with Richard, and that alone made him even more upset than what he was initially angry about.
"Hey there, handsome," came a voice from beside him. He turned his head toward it, and squinted as he tried to make out who had uttered the words. "Drowning your sorrows all alone?" Chandler nodded slightly as he stared at her.
"Do I know you?" he eventually managed. The woman smiled and sat next to him.
"I guess you don't recognize me with hair then, huh?" He stared at her, momentarily perplexed, and then frowned as he looked more closely at her.
"Bonnie?" She grinned.
"Yup."
"Ross's ex-Bonnie?"
"Yeah... that's my full name, y'know." He shook his head.
"Sorry. It's just... you look so... different. You know... with hair and stuff." She smiled again.
"Yeah, well, the place I work at isn't too fond of bald employees."
"Where do you work?" Chandler asked, taking a sip of the beer that he had ordered, having decided to take a break from the straight shots that had already made him quite inebriated.
"Spinners," she replied, and Chandler immediately spit out a mouthful of beer across the bar.
"You're a stripper?" he asked, wide-eyed, when he had wiped his mouth. She grinned.
"Yup. Finally found something I'm good at." When he only stared at her, she elaborated. "Taking my clothes off." She smiled, satisfied, when he seemed to be speechless. "Buy a girl a drink?" she asked, scooting her barstool closer to him. He nodded dumbly and waved the bartender down, still staring at Bonnie. "So," she began once she had gotten her drink. "What is it that drove you to a bar to get drunk alone?" Chandler shrugged, not wanting to have to think about Monica and Richard anymore.
"I think I lost my girlfriend to her ex," he replied simply, looking up surprised when she snorted.
"Yeah, well, you know that I'm familiar with that whole situation, given that a certain 'ex' is why Ross and I broke up." Chandler nodded as she took a sip of her drink. "But hey," she continued with a smile. "I figure, it's a hell of a lot more fun not to have anyone to answer to, right? I mean, here I am... I can see whoever I want, whenever I want. I don't have to make excuses or defend myself... I just do what I want to do. It's great." Chandler nodded again and she smiled. "I think you've had enough," she said as he finished his beer. "Whaddaya say we get out of here? Go someplace a little more fun."
"Like your place of employment?" Chandler quipped, his words slightly slurred.
"Actually," she replied, sliding her hand up his leg. "I was thinking more like your place of residence." Chandler stared at her, surprised, as her hand moved to the inside of his thigh.
"Check, please" he said to the bartender, his eyes still locked on Bonnie.
"Mon, sweetie, you've got to get some sleep," Rachel murmured as she came out of her room in her pajamas, having clearly been asleep. Monica just nodded dully as she sat on the window seat, staring gloomily into the dark city sky. "Look, Mon, regardless of when he gets home, he's not going to come over here. He'll figure you're asleep and won't want to wake you. Let it be until morning, okay?" Monica finally turned and looked at her and nodded resignedly. She knew that Rachel was right, but at the same time she couldn't imagine being able to sleep wondering where Chandler was and what he was doing. She sighed and went into her room after saying goodnight to Rach. Instead of changing into her pajamas, she simply slipped off her jeans and left Chandler's college sweatshirt on. If she couldn't sleep wrapped in his arms, this was probably the next best thing, although it was a distant, distant, distant second. She crawled into bed and glanced at the clock on her nightstand that read 2:08. "Rachel's probably right," she thought finally, trying to erase the fears from her mind that told her that she'd probably lost Chandler altogether. She turned onto her side and gazed at his side of the bed. "It was just a stupid misunderstanding," she told herself as she buried her face in the pillow he'd slept on the night before and breathed in the scent of him.
As Chandler woke the next morning, he could feel the familiar banging in his head that told him he'd had more to drink the night before than one might have thought humanly possible. He stretched and rolled over to snuggle up to the warmth Monica was providing from beside him. As he did, however, he noticed the blond hair that was peeking out from under the comforter, and he froze. Blond? He hastily scooted away from the sleeping figure and racked his brain, trying to remember what had happened the night before. All he could remember was being upset about Monica going out with Richard. Then what had happened? "Liquor," he decided with a groan. "Lots of liquor." Suddenly the person next to him stretched and he froze, almost hoping that she wouldn't wake up so that he'd have another minute to collect his thoughts. When Bonnie's face emerged, pieces of the night before swam in his hazy mind as he stared at her. "Morning," she greeted him with a casual smile. He nodded, not trusting his voice. How on earth was he going to get out of this mess? What was he going to do when Monica found out? Maybe she wouldn't find out. Maybe he'd be able to avoid hurting her. But then he would be forced to live with the guilt of knowing he'd been unfaithful, and for a split second he wasn't sure which was worse: living with the knowledge that he was scum, or having her find out. "The first one," he decided. "At least if she doesn't know, I won't lose her." The thought of losing her because of something so stupid made him hate himself in that moment, and he wished he could go back to last night. It would be one thing to lose her because of Richard coming back into the picture, but to lose her because of his own stupidity was another thing altogether. "You okay?" she asked lightly. He nodded again as he stared at her, knowing that whatever had happened with Bonnie the night before was certainly not worth the price he would undoubtedly have to pay.
As Monica entered the apartment, she glanced around and noted that Chandler was either in his bedroom or he wasn't home. She walked slowly toward his room, suddenly nervous. What was she going to say to explain why she'd had lunch with Richard the day before? How was she going to make him believe the truth: that Richard meant absolutely nothing to her? She knew it was a stupid thing to do, having lunch with him, but in a way she wanted to go to prove to both herself and to him that she was over him, and, thanks to Chandler, probably, she'd realized that that couldn't be more true. She took a deep breath as she gently pushed open his bedroom door and she froze when she saw him. Regardless of the fact that he was asleep, he had a troubled look on his face and she suddenly felt guilty for putting him through whatever it was that he had been feeling. She tiptoed over to the bed and sat on the edge. He opened his eyes slowly and stared at her for a moment. He felt his stomach flip as he realized how lucky he was that Bonnie had left not fifteen minutes beforehand. "Hey," he said uneasily.
"Hey," she replied. Both were silent for a moment, and Monica wondered how to start.
"Chandler, I'm sorry about going out to lunch with Richard yesterday. You have to believe me when I tell you that it meant nothing. I don't feel anything for him anymore, and I guess a part of me thought that going out with him yesterday would confirm it. I'm sorry, both that I did it and that you found out the way you did. I understand why you're angry with me, but I want you to know that nothing happened, and nothing would ever happen. I don't love him, I love you." Chandler sighed and sat up.
"You don't have to apologize, Mon," he said quietly, feeling the guilt wash over him like a tidal wave. Here she was, apologizing for something as trite as having lunch with an ex, and he had gone and slept with some random girl that he didn't even had feelings for. He suddenly felt like the worst person on earth.
"But--" He shook his head and placed his fingertips on her mouth.
"It's done. Finished."
"You forgive me?" she asked hopefully. A funny look crossed his face as he noted the irony of the situation: her asking for forgiveness when he was the one who'd actually done something wrong. He pushed the thoughts away and nodded, her relieved look almost breaking his heart. She hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back, suddenly cherishing the way she fit into his arms so comfortably, while at the same time wishing he had more of a spine.
"I'm sorry," she said again. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he replied softly, hoping with all his heart that there would never come a time when she would refuse to tell him that she loved him, and hoping there would never come a time when she didn't feel it.
"So you guys are all okay now?" Rachel asked hopefully. Monica nodded thoughtfully as she scrubbed a pan the next day.
"Yeah, we're okay," she answered. "He's been acting a little weird, but I guess that's normal... I mean, I freaked him out, obviously. I guess it's just going to take a little while for him to be secure again."
"Well, don't worry, Mon," Rach said reassuringly. "He's not Ross, after all... you guys are meant to be together. HE wouldn't screw that up." Monica nodded, hoping that Rachel was right.
"Half a pound, please," Monica told the butcher as she watched him select a piece of salmon and place it on the scale. She'd decided to make one of Chandler's favorite dishes outside of macaroni and cheese with cut-up hot dogs. Although he'd been a little uncomfortable for the past week, things had more or less gone back to normal and she was so grateful that he'd forgiven her that she knew she would happily cook whatever he wanted her to. She thanked the butcher as he handed her the fish and turned to leave the butchery, bumping into someone as she did so. "Sorry," she said hastily.
"Excuse me," the woman replied. Then added, "Monica?" Mon looked up to see who it was she'd run into and for a moment she didn't recognize the woman. Then she remembered.
"Oh, hello, Bonnie," she said with a small smile. Although she'd thought Bonnie was a little bit wild, she'd felt sorry for her when Ross dumped her so suddenly for the chance to get back together with Rachel. "How are you?"
"I'm great, thanks," Bonnie said with a grin. "Wow, I'm just running into you guys all over the place this week!" Monica stared at her for a moment, puzzled.
"Pardon?"
"You guys. Your... 'gang.' You seem to be popping up everywhere!" Monica smiled, confused, and she wondered if, in addition to being a bit wild, Bonnie was on drugs. Then she realized that she must have run into one of the others at some point in time. She smiled again.
"Yeah, once you get into our loop, it's hard to get out," Monica said with a smile.
"Seems that way. Although, from the other night, yours is a loop I wouldn't mind being a part of. Those guys are something." Monica looked at her for a moment and realized it was probably the obvious connection.
"Joey?" she asked knowingly.
"Not yet," Bonnie replied with a grin. "But with the way I keep showing up in your little clique, you never know."
"You slept with Ross?" Monica asked, confused. She wondered how Rachel would feel about that, but decided that it had nothing to do with Rachel anyway. If anything, Bonnie should hate Rach, not the other way around.
"No, Chandler," Bonnie said simply. "Two down, one to go," she added with a smile. Monica suddenly felt dizzy.
"What?" she asked uneasily.
"That Chandler guy," Bonnie repeated. "I knew he was funny, but I never knew he was great at other stuff, too."
"You... you slept with Chandler?" Monica asked, her voice shaking and her palms breaking into a sweat.
"Yeah," Bonnie replied. "Ran into him at a bar. Something about breaking up with his girlfriend or something." Monica felt as though the room was closing in on her, and she suddenly felt claustrophobic.
She mumbled something along the lines of, "Nice seeing you, I have to go," and burst out of the butchery, trying to catch her breath. As the cool air surrounded her, she felt a turmoil of emotions swirling around inside her, and she tried to sort them out. Surely Bonnie had somehow been mistaken? After all, she hadn't known the gang for that long. Maybe she was actually silly enough to confuse Joey and Chandler. She suddenly found that she had no interest in buying any more groceries, and she hailed a cab and headed home.
"Hey, Mon," Chandler greeted her as he walked into her apartment. She was sitting on the couch, facing the TV, which was switched off. As she heard his voice, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She quickly asked the higher powers to make sure that what she was going to ask Chandler about was all a huge misunderstanding, and that her heart wouldn't be broken like she feared. She turned and faced him, and he noted that she had a strange look on her face. "You okay?" he asked after a moment, when she didn't return his greeting. She took another deep breath and stared at him.
"I ran into Bonnie today," she said evenly, and his reaction confirmed her suspicion.
"Mon, I can explain--" he stared at her anxiously, wondering if he could, in fact, explain. As soon as he spoke, Mon felt her heart shatter as she realized that Bonnie had been telling the truth. She looked at him angrily, knowing that the tears weren't far.
"Get out," she said in a voice he'd never heard before.
"Monica, please," he begged, his pain written clearly across his face.
"Get the hell out," she said in the same cold voice, and he felt his heart breaking as he looked at her. Suddenly her manner went from icy calm to fiery anger. "Go! I never want to see you again, you bastard! Get out!" She could feel the tears rolling freely down her cheeks as he looked at her sadly, begging her silently not to make him leave. "Out!" she yelled, turning and running into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Chandler stared at the door helplessly, feeling as though his world was collapsing. He wanted to go into her room and hold her and beg for her forgiveness, but at the same time he was afraid. Not afraid of her anger, but afraid of her pain. Seeing how hurt she was would undoubtedly hurt him as well, and he was fairly certain he wasn't strong enough to handle it. Although he was too afraid and ashamed to go into her room, he couldn't bring himself to leave the apartment. He felt almost as though, if he left, things would be forever different and would never go back to normal. "Moron," he said to himself. "Things are different, regardless of whether you stay or leave." He looked sadly at Monica's door and silently left the apartment.
LET ME KNOW IF YOU LIKE THIS IDEA ... THE NEXT PART MIGHT TAKE A LITTLE TIME BECAUSE I HAVE A FEW DIFFERENT THINGS IN THE WORKS ... DEPENDS ON WHETHER PEOPLE ARE RECEPTIVE OR NOT. EITHER WAY, PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW! THANKS FOR READING! :)