Title: All That You Can't Leave Behind

Author: StarryEyedChild

Series: Friends

Genre: Angst/Romance

Characters: Basically the whole cast, but mostly Chandler, Rachel, and Joey.

Disclaimer: The show "Friends" and its characters belong to Marta Kauffman and David Crane as well as the good people at Warner Bros. and NBC. I am not, in any way, connected to them. I do not own "Friends." They do. Capice?

Author's Notes: Hey all. This is my first Friends fic, so please be kind. This fic originally came to me as a huge plot bunny after watching the final episode of Friends. It's mostly about Chandler re-thinking his decisions and thinking about what (or who? Oooh! Spoiler!) really makes him happy.

SPOILER WARNING: If you haven't watched the final episode yet, I should warn you that this fic contains a few spoilers. Also, I should tell you that either Chan and Mon haven't moved yet, or aren't moving at all in this fic. Just so you know.

Chandler Bing lay awake in the tiny bedroom of his New York City apartment. Since he rolled onto his side a half hour ago, he had been staring at the bright, red numbers on the digital alarm clock that he kept on the dresser next to his head and silently counting the seconds to see if he could perfectly time the moment when the numbers changed.

It was 4:04. In about 20 seconds it would be about 4:05.

He waited. 'Huh. 24 seconds. I must have been off a bit.'

He sighed heavily and rolled onto his back where he stared blankly at the ceiling. He couldn't even try to get to sleep in the way a normal person would do. If Ross were there he'd tell him that normal people would take some sleep aids or count sheep or get a glass of warm milk to help them fall asleep, but no, Chandler had to be different. He had to do weird things like have contests with his bedroom gadgets.

Chandler directed his gaze toward the bedroom door. He had to admit that the thought of getting out of bed to get something to help him relax did tickle his fancy, though milk and Nyquil weren't exactly what he had in mind.

Being careful not to wake his raven-haired wife who was sleeping contently next to him, he carefully slid his left arm under the mattress to fish around for a small carton of cigarettes which he was positive he stashed under there a few months prior.

His arm finally hit something solid.

'Ah. There you are.' He pulled the carton out and held it possessively to his chest as if Monica would wake up and catch him at any moment. 'Thought you could get away from me, did you? You sweet, sweet temptress.'

Still clutching the cigarettes, he tiptoed to the door rather impishly, snuck outside the room and gently closed the door behind him.

Being careful not to accidentally knock something over or step on a loose floorboard, Chandler continued tiptoeing until he reached the window on the other side of the living room, carefully lifted it open and climbed outside. Once on the cold, brick balcony, he breathed a loud sigh of relief into the chilly, Manhattan air.

Success. He was actually going to have the opportunity to smoke alone on the balcony without Monica sticking her head out the window, scolding him for smoking behind her back, snatching the pack away from him and giving him a long list of reasons why cigarettes would be the death of him some day.

'Lung cancer? Heart disease? Please. Smoking is cool and she knows it.' Chandler thought sarcastically as he slid his first cigarette out of the package and lit it. If anyone were there at the moment he'd more than likely do his funny "Chandler Dance of Victory" for his or her amusement, but since they weren't, he took a deep breath into the cigarette, smirked and relaxed.

Yes. This was the shit.

Though he had to admit that lying and hiding a secret such as this behind his sweet, trusting wife's back made his stomach turn out of guilt, he convinced himself that this was the only way he could really relax. Besides, Monica agreed to take him as her husband in sickness and in health. Some people are slaves to ice cream or shopping or porn, but this was Chandler's sickness. Though completely unhealthy as it may be, he convinced himself that he deserved a little break sometime. A chance to be alone with his thoughts and relax. If cigarettes helped him do that, then, God help him, cigarettes were the way to go.

He brought the lit, slightly moist stick to his mouth for another puff and exhaled it through his nose into the morning air. He quickly glanced at his watch. 4:20. Monica was going to be up around 5:30 to get ready for her job. If he hurried, he could take a quick shower, towel-dry his hair and hop back into bed before Monica even noticed he was gone. And if he didn't have enough time for that, he could just stay up and make breakfast for her in a pathetic attempt to wash some of his own guilt away.

Chandler put the cigarette out on the balcony's brick wall, flicked away the evidence with his finger, leaned over the side with his head in his hands and sighed.

"You are one big mess of a man, Bing." He said aloud to himself while gazing at the New York skyline. "Pretty pathetic."

On the other side of the alley, in the apartment directly across from the Bing's, Rachel Green also found herself struggling to fall asleep again despite the bright sunshine in her eyes, the sounds of birds chirping merrily on the neighboring rooftop and the sound of her boyfriend, Ross Geller, snoring deeply.

Ok, maybe it was mostly Ross, but Rachel wasn't exactly impressed.

'You're lucky I love you, Geller,' She mentally hissed at his sleeping body "Or I'd be making you eat one of these pillows right now."

After tossing a pillow across the room in frustration, Rachel swung her legs over the side of the bed, slipped into a pair of Ross' over-sized slippers, wrapped his large, flannel bathrobe around her tiny frame and scooted out the door to the fridge for a nice glass of milk.

As happy as she was to be finally back in a relationship with the guy she loved, the fact that the man snored like the sound of two lumberjacks cutting a tree down annoyed her to no end.

She carefully poured herself a tall glass of what her good friend Chandler would jokingly call "Moo Juice," brushed a strand of her messy bed head out of her face and took a sip.

She chuckled. "'Moo Juice' " She said aloud and shook her head "Honestly, Chandler... You're 30-something going on 12."

After she rinsed out her glass and placed it carefully into the dishwasher (because Ross would have a hissy fit if she simply left in on the counter), she sauntered back into the living room and picked up a small stack of Ross' geeky magazines off the coffee table to leaf through.

'Ok, we have "Popular Science," "Popular Mechanics" and "Dinosaur fanatics: The magazine." Maybe if I'm lucky I'll bore myself to sleep' She thought sarcastically with a smirk.

She couldn't help but raise her eyebrow at Ross' choice of literature. Her boyfriend was... well, something else. But despite the blatant geekiness, Rachel loved him more than anyone.

She smiled, settled down into one of Ross' leather chairs and began to read an article about a rare set of bones found in Mongolia, which were found with a smaller set of bones of a completely different animal in it's teeth.

"Whoa..." She thought aloud "That is kind of cool."

She paused, gave the article a questioning look then closed the magazine and placed it back on it's original position on the coffee table.

'I'm already dating him. I don't need to turn into a female version of him.'

She yawned, stretched and, since no one was around to see her, scratched her underarms a few times before standing up to return to Ross' room. She had taken no more than three steps in the direction of the bedroom before something caught her eye outside the window. She squinted and shielded her eyes from the morning sunshine with her hand before walking over to the window for a closer inspection.

On the brick balcony across the alley Rachel could vaguely see a man in his boxers and a white tee, slightly shivering in the spring air.

'Who-.... Is that? Chandler? Is that Chandler? What's he doing up so earl-...

She narrowed her eyes and silently cursed her poor eyesight. The man reached for a small carton from the balcony's edge and pulled something small out of it, brought it to his lips and exhaled contentedly.

'Is that...Is that a cigarette?! Is he smoking?!'

Rachel pressed her hands against the glass as if to see the man on the neighboring balcony a bit clearer.

She gasped. 'It is! I can't believe him! After he made that promise not to smoke anymore for the babies' sake! That little...'

Rachel dove for the phone beside the couch and quickly dialed the Bing's number. After 3 rings she watched as Chandler's ears perked up, fumbled to hide the evidence of his dirty habit behind the giant, ceramic dog which used to belong to Joey, crawled through the window and scrambled to reach the phone before the ringing woke Monica.

Rachel felt her lips curl into a mischievous smile. She couldn't help but get a little kick out of watching Chandler frantically flail about like some puppet dancing for her amusement.

'He's gonna get what's coming to 'im. The bastard.' She snarled.

After the 8th ring, a familiar, raspy, out-of-breath voice came through Rachel's phone.

"Hullo? B-bing resi-...residence."

"Morning, Chandler!" Rachel innocently chirped. "How are we this fine morning?"

Chandler paused. Rachel could almost hear his twisted facial expression through the phone. "Rachel?"

"Yup!"

"What're... what're you calling so early for?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." She said, emphasizing the fake sincerity in her tone "Did I wake you?"

"No, of course not. I mean... No, I was awake. I was just... about to hop in the shower. Gotta be fresh and clean to start the day!"

"Oh, I see." She twirled the phone cord around her index finger.

After another awkward pause, Chandler cleared his throat. "Is there a reason behind this call?"

Rachel lowered her voice to a dark, menacing tone as she glared at Chandler from the window. "I saw you."

"You saw me what?"

"I saw you. I mean I saw you. Just now with your-...your-... your-... cigarettes! With the-...the-...the-... smoking! On the balcony!" Rachel stumbled on her words yet still managed to make the hairs on the back of Chandler's neck stand up.

"You-...you-...what?!" He practically barked. He realized that he sounded suspicious so he forced himself to speak more calmly. "What are you-... I mean, you must be mistaken, Rachel. You really-...you really need to get those eyes of yours checked. Like call, Rich-..." He stopped himself to avoid saying the name of Monica's ex-boyfriend. "-...Um, an optometrist ...or something."

"You think you're sooooo clever, don't you?" She hissed. "You'll just find any excuse to give into that disgusting habit and to fill your body with poison even if it means lying to your wife and friends. You-...you-... you- ...ARGH!"

"Rach, it's ok. Just...calm down. I can explain-..."

"Explain what, Chandler? That you tripped? Stumbled? FELL onto those cigarettes? They just happened to be on the balcony at the time?"

"I-..."

"How long has this been going on? Monica doesn't have a clue, does she?"

Chandler paused, uncertain if he should try to speak again out of fear of Rachel interrupting and barking at him again.

"Are you going to give me a chance to talk now?"

Rachel simply huffed a reply.

He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He'd been cornered. He might as well admit defeat. "No, Monica doesn't know."

Rachel rolled her eyes and glared at Chandler from the window "Of course."

"But this isn't a constant thing! I'm not like, smoking a pack a day like I used to! I just-..." He lowered his voice and eyed the balcony. If he was going to admit to something he didn't want Monica to hear right now, he'd might as well do it where he could get a little bit of privacy.

"You just what?"

Chandler sighed. "I only smoke when I'm stressed out and I have a lot on my mind. It helps me relax."

"But that-..." Rachel started before Chandler cut in.

"AND," He continued. "I know it's like, unbelievably unhealthy and I made a promise to quit, but it's not like I'm smoking it in Monica's and the twins' faces. I'm going outside for their sake."

"Well-... Well, at least you're thinking of them in some respect."

Chandler leaned against the brick wall of the balcony and slid to the floor. "I'd never want to hurt them. You know that." He cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder and hugged his legs to his knees.

"I know."

The wind whistled between the buildings. Chandler glanced over at the pack of cigarettes behind the ceramic dog and grimaced. He couldn't be more disgusted in himself.

"So..." Rachel said quietly. Chandler could almost hear a bit on sincerity in her tone. "You're stressed out, huh?"

"Big time."

"Wanna talk about it?"