Mockingbird

Prologue: November 2005

~.~

My life has been wonderfully chaotic lately, which, sadly, does not leave me much time to write. But, I've been dying to write something rather angsty and dramatic lately, and though this is neither the Mondler nor Randler fic I had in mind and had started working on…it will have to do, because it's what I feel like writing. Hopefully I will find the rest of my muse that I've been missing lately and will be able to actually write those fics soon, ha.

And, in truly me fashion, this is just the prologue, which will leave you wondering what the heck is going on, and I will spend the rest of the story answering those questions. Well, first you will be a bit more confused, but then I will answer those questions. Enjoy :)

~.~

Rachel played with the stem of the wine glass in front of her, the glow from the television in the next room playing off of Chandler's face across the table from her in the dimly lit kitchen. She stared at the single drop of red wine left in the bottom of her glass, as if that held any of the answers to the question he had just asked her.

What are you going to do?

Simple question. Well, it should be a simple question. Straight-forward. To the point. Not like so many other subjects the two of them had danced around for months now.

What was she going to do?

Rachel looked across his kitchen and into the living room, where Emma sat watching the same Dora DVD she had been watching for weeks now, oblivious to the conversation between the two adults in the next room. Rachel focused on the back of her daughter's head which was bouncing slightly as she answered the questions Dora and Diego asked of her, singing along at appropriate parts.

God, what was she going to do?

"Rach?"

Rachel turned back to Chandler at the sound of his voice. Nodding slightly, she took her bottom lip between her teeth, still deep in thought, fighting the tears that stung the back of her eyes.

"That's a really good question," finally came her reply, choked out in barely a whisper. "That," she paused, speaking a bit louder this time, a bit firmer, as she pointed at him before standing up to take her empty glass over to the sink. "That, is a really good question."

~.~

Reviews are lovely, please and thanks :)