Wow! It's true, reviews do make your day better! Can't believe all the love being shown for this story. It means the world to me, guys! Here's chapter 2! Keep those lovely reviews coming :)
Chapter 2
Chandler made his way back downstairs, cringing when he stepped on one of Erica's beloved barbie dolls. "Please don't be broken, please don't be broken," he whispered, relieved to find the toy in one piece when he picked it up. Setting it on the couch, he went over to his desk. Papers from work were scattered everywhere. He sighed and sat down before them, glancing at an email he'd printed out from a colleague in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Luckily Chandler had been transferred back to New York some time ago, but he remembered quite clearly the time he spent in Tulsa. He was suddenly taken back as a memory gripped him.
"I'll only be gone for five days, but it's really only like four if you count the time difference and how early I'll get here on Friday," Chandler told Monica as they stood outside the terminal at the airport.
Monica stared at their feet and nodded. Chandler put a finger beneath her chin and brought her eyes up to meet his. "Is that a tear?" he smirked. "Are you crying, Geller?"
"No," she said quickly, wiping the offending moisture from her eyes. He smiled at her and she lightly punched his arm. "Alright fine, I'm crying. Are you happy now? And that's Mrs. Bing to you."
"Yes ma'm," he chuckled. Monica threw her arms around his neck and he buried his head in her hair.
"I don't want you to go," she whispered tearfully. "Why does Tulsa have to be so damn far away?"
"I don't know," he sighed. He didn't want to go either. It was a fight to convince himself to leave her at the end of every weekend. It went against every fiber of his being to get on that plane without her. "I love you, Monica."
"I love you too," she said bravely, pulling back just enough to reach his lips. When she kissed him, she felt his arms wrap more tightly around her waist and she twisted one hand up in his short hair while the other clutched at the fabric of his shirt. She loved him so much. When he pulled away, kissing her forehead, she immediately felt like there was a hole in her chest where her heart had just been. But she was used to that by now. He took it with him each time he boarded that plane.
"I have to go," he murmured, grabbing the handle of his rolling suitcase in one hand and his briefcase in another.
"I know," she sighed. "Bye."
"Bye."
Monica got back into her car and watched him walk through the automatic glass doors. She sighed and bit her lip. She wouldn't see him for another week. A whole week alone in her apartment! Well, she'd have her friends, but it wasn't the same. She loved them all so much, but Chandler was a part of her. And as she watched his figure disappear into the crowded airport, she panicked.
Chandler stood in line at the security checkpoint. He never bothered to check his bag anymore. It cost more and there was a likely chance it wouldn't make it to Tulsa until he was ready to come back again. There were only five people in front of him when he heard a very familiar voice shouting his name. His heart lurched. He'd know that voice anywhere. Standing on his toes, Chandler searched the crowd until he found his wife searching just as frantically for him as he had been for her. "Excuse me," he said, his place in line, the plane, his job, and everything else forgotten as he kept his gaze focused on Monica. Finally he made it to the edge of the line, unlatching the dividing rope and stepping back into the crowd he'd just worked his way through. "Mon?"
"Chandler," she cried, finally spotting him and weaving in and out between people to reach her husband.
He caught her up in his arms and held her again. Even though it had only been a few minutes, it felt like years since their goodbye outside and his arms had been aching to hold her again. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly. "Are you ok?"
She nodded into his chest and took a deep, shuddering breath. She felt ridiculous. This wasn't the cool and collected Monica she always tried so hard to be. But without Chandler, she was a wreck and she knew it. Only with him was she a sane person. Only with him did she ever feel whole. "Please don't go so far away," she said into his shirt, not caring how desperate or immature she sounded.
He kissed the top of her head. "Mon, you know I don't want to. The last thing I want to do is leave you. But I have to. It's my job."
"I know," she whispered. Knowing didn't make it easier though, and tears once again filled her eyes. Chandler could feel them soaking through his shirt. Her shoulders began to shake pitifully and Chandler ran his hand up and down her back while the other cradled her head against him.
"Don't cry, Monica," he whispered soothingly. "Please don't cry." When her tears wouldn't stop, Chandler led her over to one of the chairs along the wall and pulled her onto his lap, not caring about the people who stared as they walked by. "Ok," he sighed, "everything's ok. I'm right here."
Monica was eventually able to stop the flow of tears and she looked up at her husband. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers once again, the kiss deep and full of love. They pulled apart and he stroked her cheek. "You gonna be ok?"
She nodded, then gasped, "Oh my gosh! You missed your plane!"
Chandler looked at his watch and frowned.
"Oh I'm so sorry," Monica said. "I'm so sorry Chandler! I'll do anything to make it up to you."
Chandler grinned. "Anything?"
"No, not that," she groaned, reading his mind like she always did. Then she kissed his lips quickly and said, "But other than that, I'm all yours Bing."
"Well why the heck are we still here?" he asked with a smile. "Move woman, move!"
Chandler smiled as he came out of the memory. The next morning, Chandler had barely been able to stay awake long enough to get on the right plane. He and Monica had stayed, ah... busy all night long after they got back home from the airport. He didn't care though. If that was what happened every time he missed his flight then he would never ever be on time again.
He sighed. When was the last time Monica had turned to him for comfort? When was the last time they'd stayed up all night wrapped in each other's arms and perfectly content? He couldn't remember. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd kissed her. Sure, he'd give her a peck on the cheek before work in the morning but otherwise... And when was the last time he'd seen Monica's eyes sparkle like they used to? That look that communicated so much from across an entire room. Every emotion, desire, love, trust, longing, compassion, it was all there in her beautiful eyes. Not recently though. Recently, Monica had looked, well tired now that he thought about it. She never took time to care about her appearance anymore, most days dawning an old t-shirt and jeans before pulling her hair into a messy bun. Their life had become pretty routine and they were almost like two strangers living in the same house. Why? When had things changed between them? He didn't know for sure, but he did know that he wished there was some way to remind Monica of the better days.