Night Moves
Chapter 2
~.~
Thanks for the reviews so far, and keep it up, please! I'm not so sure I like this as much written down as I did in my head, but, meh. I'll let you guys decide what you think. :)
~.~
"I've never seen so many sequins at a memorial service in my life," Chandler remarked as the six of them entered the venue where his father's memorial show was taking place, which was where he had performed on a nightly basis for roughly a decade now.
"I've never seen so many sequins period," Joey added, looking around. "Although, it would be a lot more appealing if it wasn't dudes wearing them," he added. "No offense," he looked at Chandler, who shrugged, apparently not offended.
"You okay?" Monica asked Chandler as they took their seats.
Chandler shrugged. "Honestly, it doesn't feel quite real yet. Maybe if this were any kind of normal memorial service…" he trailed off, looking around. "Although, I'm positive he would have it no other way."
Phoebe looked around at all of the dancers and other people mingling with drinks, all glittery and dressed up, waiting for the show to start, colorful lights and disco balls sending beams of colored lights in all directions. "Heck, I don't think I'd have it any other way! Guys, when I die, this is what I want for a funeral, okay?"
"Sure, Phoebs," Rachel replied.
The lights dimmed, signaling that the show was about to start, and the rest of the room began to take their seats.
"Does it make me sound like an eight-year-old if I say that I'm glad my mom's coming before the funeral tomorrow, though?" Chandler leaned toward Monica, whispering.
Monica reached over, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "No, I think it's human."
"Definitely," Ross added, seated on the other side of Monica. "You never get too old to need your mom."
"You do get too old to call her 'Mommy,' though," Monica looked at Ross, who made a face at her in reply, though they all quieted and turned their attention towards the stage as the music began.
~.~
"Hey," Monica greeted Chandler, who was sitting at their hotel bar after the memorial service, drinking. Though everyone else had gone back to their rooms to change (Chandler ending up with his own room since Joey had wanted his own room), he was still in his dress shirt and tie from earlier. "We went to your room to get you before we all go out, but you weren't there," she explained.
Chandler nodded, finishing the drink in front of him in one swallow. "I don't know if I really feel like going out."
Monica sat on the barstool beside him. "Mind some company?"
Chandler shrugged. "Not sure I'll be the best."
"Scotch on the rocks with a twist," Monica ordered from the bartender.
"I'll have another one," Chandler motioned to his glass, as well. "Won't everyone wonder where you went?" he asked Monica.
Monica shook her head. "They're hanging around here for awhile, and I told them if we don't catch up with them in twenty minutes or so, to just leave without us."
"You can still go, if you want," Chandler offered. "If you don't want to partake in my pity party," he added, a slight bite to his tone.
"Oh, come on," Monica smiled, reaching for her drink. "You're fun to get drunk with."
"Who says I'm drinking to get drunk?"
Monica laughed, nudging his knee under the bar with her own. "I would guess you're already about halfway there…."
Chandler shrugged, knowing she was right. "Well, I can't promise I'll be the fun kind of drunk tonight…."
~.~
"Shots!" Chandler slid a shot of tequila to Monica before liking his hand, sprinkling salt on it, sliding the salt to her to do the same.
"Lime, shot, salt?" Monica asked, grabbing a lime.
Chandler shook his head. "Isn't it salt, shot, lime?"
Monica shrugged. "Pretty sure tequila tastes terrible either way."
Chandler clinked his shot glass to hers. "We should do a drink for my dad."
"To your dad!" Monica clinked her glass to his, having obviously caught up to him in the getting-drunk department.
Chandler shook his head. "Not this one," he replied before licking the salt off his hand, taking the shot, and then biting the lime.
"Something a bit more racier?" Monica asked, making a face after taking her shot, and Chandler nodded in agreement. "Yea, tequila tastes terrible anyway."
"What did you have in mind for something racier?" Chandler asked hesitantly.
"Two slippery nipples," Monica ordered from the bartender, Chandler reddening visibly. "For your mom writing erotic novels and your dad being a burlesque dancer, one would think dirty shot names would be the least of things to make you blush."
Chandler made a face at her, taking one of the shots from the bartender. "Thanks."
"To Charles Bing," Monica raised her shot glass.
"To Helena Handbasket," Chandler clinked his to hers before they both took the shots.
"You knew Helena Handbasket?" the bartender asked in a thick Brooklyn accent.
Chandler nodded. "Yea, he was my dad."
"I'm sorry for your loss," he replied. "He put on a great show. Funny guy, too."
"Thanks," Chandler smiled sadly.
"One more on the house," he grabbed their empty shot glasses. "What'll you guys have?"
Monica looked at Chandler, trying to think of another dirty shot name to make him blush. "Two blowjobs?"
Chandler shook his head. "Is it a game now?" Monica shrugged, and Chandler laughed. "I love drunk Monica."
"Who says I'm drunk?"
"You weigh, like, 90 pounds. If I'm drunk, you're drunk."
~.~
"What if I die alone?" Chandler asked, glancing up at the football game that was playing on the TV behind the bar, though he wasn't really watching it.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"How is that ridiculous? I can't make any kind of relationship work, not even one that seems to be going well."
"Chandler, you did the right thing with Janice, telling her to go back to her husband. That took a big person to do that."
"Well, it made me feel about this big," he held up his fingers about an inch apart. "But, what, I'm 27, and that's my best example of a relationship? I don't know that I'd even classify any other romantic relationship I've ever had as a 'relationship,'" he made air quotations around the word. "I barely have a relationship with my mom, I had absolutely no relationship with my dad. I'm not just going to die alone, I'm going to die alone, alone," he paused. "Yea, try to tell me I'm not like Heckles now."
Monica sat silently for a moment. "My longest relationship was with my father's best friend."
"Touché," Chandler laughed slightly. "Well, at least we can be alone together."
Monica clinked her glass to his, sadly. "I'll drink to that."
~.~
"We should go do something," Chandler suggested, both of them having gone from giddily drunk, past depressed drunk, and onto being completely gone.
"We are doing something," Monica pointed out, as if that should have been obvious.
"We should do something besides getting drunk."
"We're in Vegas, isn't that what people do in Vegas?"
"People do more than just get drunk in Vegas," Chandler paused, then snapped his fingers. "We should get married!"
"What?"
"That's what people do in Vegas! Besides, ya know, gambling and getting drunk. And then, if we got married, neither or us would have to die alone!"
"We could gamble and then get married!" Monica improved on his idea.
"The Vegas Trifecta!" Chandler agreed enthusiastically, standing up from his barstool (and nearly falling over in the process), giving Monica a high-five after catching himself on the bar. "Good sir! Can we get our tab?" he motioned for the bartender. "We're going to get married!"
"And gamble!" Monica added enthusiastically.
"Vegas Trifecta," Chandler grinned at her before turning back to the bartender.
"You guys known each other the entire few hours you've been sitting here?" the bartender asked before handing Chandler the tab.
"Nah, we've known each other for years." Chandler handed him his credit card.
"In that case, mazel tov," he said, unenthusiastically.
"Thanks," Monica and Chandler replied in unison, missing his sarcasm, as Chandler took his credit card back before they turned away from the bar.
"Which are we doing first? Gambling or getting married?" Chandler asked, linking arms with Monica as they headed for the doors.
"Think there's someplace we could do both?"
"Monica Geller, that is why I'm marrying you."
"I know!"
