Chandler and Monica got out of Waterloo Station and started walking alongside each other, a heavy silence settling over them, Monica was observing her surroundings, trying to locate herself, she eventually looked back at Chandler; he had his hands in his pockets and was following the direction of her gaze. They fully realized they were now committed to one another in some strange way.

"This feels a little awkward," finally said Chandler, who could barely stand the uneasy tension anymore.

"A little yes, but it doesn't have to be," she replied.

"But it's ok, right?"

"Yes, let's just head somewhere." She smiled and he nodded.

"Where do you wanna start?" he asked after a few steps.

"Well, why don't we drop off our bags first? The hotel we're staying at is pretty close, I can go check on my parents and my brother, leave our bags and we're good to go?"

Chandler was suddenly thrown off by the mention of her family, his mouth almost too dry to speak.

"You won't have to meet them, Chandler," she said, rubbing his arm to reassure him, her eyes focusing on his. All he could do was glance at her hand on his arm and nod.

"Not that I don't want to meet them or anything, it's just, you know, it would be weird to explain this and they'd find me creepy and your brother might want to kill me—"

"It's fine, really."

"Good. I'll shut up now and stop making this more awkward than it is."

Monica stopped suddenly and pulled out multiples maps and travel guides.

"What's all that?" asked Chandler.

"Oh, I planned my day so I can check all the must-see places." She opened one of the maps. "Here's the most effective itinerary with the most convenient mode of transportation between each site, to check them out in the shortest time. The red spots are the places I can't miss, the orange ones are bonus sights, and the yellow spots will depend on whether I'm running late." Her eyes were sparkling, there was something in her enthusiasm that Chandler found completely irresistible.

"Oh my God." He chuckled.

"What's wrong?" Monica asked, her eyes narrowing.

"This is what you called sightseeing? You're a very … prepared kind of tourist."

"Of course. I only have a couple of hours, and this could be the only time I set foot in this country, I can't miss out," she replied in the most serious and earnest way, Chandler shook his head, smiling.

"How about we go to the hotel, and I'll take you where you will truly experience London in a way that you will actually remember it and not like you're taking part in an Olympic sport." Chandler deadpanned.

"I'm sorry, are you mocking my plan?"

"No, the plan is perfect, the plan is flawless, the plan is better than Hans Gruber's plan," Chandler said sarcastically, to which Monica smirked, "Just saying, if at the end of the day, I want to stand a chance to be your husband and father at forty, I need to work with a more flexible plan."

"Fine, Mr. Flexible Plan. But I can't miss the Tower of London, or I will throw you into the Thames."

"I'm genuinely terrified of you so yes, we will see it." He grinned.

They kept walking in the direction of the hotel, as they made their way through shoppers, groups of ambling tourists and rushing office workers on York Road.

"I have to ask this, are you one of those British Royalty crazies?"

Monica averted her eyes uncertainly.

"Oh my God, you totally are. That's hilarious," said Chandler, laughing uncontrollably.

"It's not like that!" She scolded, whacking him with her maps.

"Do you love the Queen? Oh yeah, you want some tea and crumpets? No? Okay then." Chandler started taunting her in a British accent.

"I'm not a crazy royal.. whatever!"

"So you don't like tea and crumpets?"

"I do, I like tea. But that's not—"

"Okay then!"

"Ugh, I hate you."

"That's not a very proper way to address a gentleman, young lady."

"Ok, Ringo, would you stop with the British accent, it's weird." She playfully punched his chest again.

"Ouch. So violent!" Chandler dropped the accent, feigning hurt. He couldn't resist teasing her, making her nose scrunch up and her eyes roll at him made him happier than he liked to admit.

"See, I can actually beat you up, so stop. Please?"

"Okay, fine." He smiled with a smug little grin, and her features softened.

As they were about to cross a road, Monica looked at her left. Chandler stopped her.

"Wait no, you have look at your right here before crossing. You know, the whole driving on the wrong side thing."

"Right," she said with a shy smile.

A few moments later, they were facing the London County Hall Building, Monica excitedly reading up on all the information in her guides, and observing the buildings trying to identify each monument. Chandler was only looking at her. They were about to cross another time to get to the Marriott Hotel, and once again, Monica looked at her left and took a step, only this time Chandler just grabbed her arms to stop her.

"You have health insurance, right?" He joked.

"Uh-huh." She breathed, struggling to form a word as she felt her face flush.

They crossed the street, turned to their right, and arrived at the entry of the Marriott Hotel. Immediately, a concierge came up to them and offered to take their luggage to Monica's assigned room. Chandler took a seat in the lobby, waiting for her. Feeling nervous, he was wondering whether he would meet her family and praying he wouldn't. Things were going too well and the thought of embarrassing himself in front of her parents made him sweat.

A few moments later, Monica came back, wearing a short-sleeved, green-beige floral dress.

"You changed?" he asked.

"Yeah, I find travel clothes kinda gross."

He shifted his head as if pointing out the irony.

"Travel clothes on me, it's just my thing." She was afraid she made him feel self-conscious or weirded him out with her obsessive habits. "But you can freshen up in my room if you want to?" she added.

He declined with a polite smile, trying not to stare too long. The dress was showing off her freckled shoulders, she still looked as fresh as a rose on a morning spring, Chandler thought. She was standing a few feet away from him, but in her unattainable beauty, she might as well have been a magazine model, and he felt like the plainest looking guy in the world at that moment.

She looked at him to bring him out of his thoughts.

"Right, let's start with the Tower, and we'll get you out of the tourist traps after," Chandler said, standing up to join her towards the exit.

Despite Monica's complaints, Chandler convinced her to take a cab. During the short drive, they exchanged furtive subtle glances at each other but usually not when the other was looking, pretending instead to check out the city through the window in a comfortable silence.

They entered the Tower of London through Tower Hill, Monica taking them in the direction of the Crown Jewels, walking alongside each other, she was looking up at the historic buildings, fascinated and practically entranced. "Look at this — it's so beautiful. Can you imagine all the things that happened here? So much history."

"I don't know, all this history can be really oppressive. Makes you feel rather insignificant, like you are just a little speck in the universe." Chandler shrugged.

"Is that why you live in L.A.? Because it's so neutral?" she said, in a mocking tone, cocking her head to the side,

"No, I live in L.A. because it's so ugly, of course. And the traffic jams are a treat," ironized Chandler to which Monica chuckled. "It's kind of a blank canvas, it's an ideal city if you want to reset your life," he added, and she nodded understandably with a tight-lipped smile.

They entered the Jewel House, Monica amazed by the royal regalia collection of cut-diamonds, gemstones, and crowns; Chandler was following her, equally delighted by the unique collection and by her sight. He kept quiet, recognizing how important this obviously was to her. They were both impressed by the heavy steel vaults on the entry doors. "This is what it must feel like being in a Swiss bank." Chandler joked, whispering to Monica's ear, and they both smiled.

Back outside, they sat on a bench overlooking the Tower Bridge.

"Can you imagine what it like was for the prisoners here— Oh, look at that raven!" Monica exclaimed, looking like the happiest person on earth as a bird landed on the ground near them. "I bet it's one of the six ravens that prevent the kingdom from falling!" she said proudly.

"Um, I think it's seven," said Chandler.

"What? It's six! Look, Chandler, the Royal history is kinda my thing, so I know I'm right about this."

"I'm glad it's your thing but really I think—"

She cut him off, "I guess we'll just have to find out, then?" Monica said, and as soon as she caught the sight of a Yeoman Warder, acting as a tourist guide, she turned back to Chandler. "Wanna bet on it?"

"W—Why?" he asked with a baffled look.

"Because I know I'm right!" she said, her eyes widening, and a grin plastered on her face. Chandler was still puzzled but equally amused by her childlike intensity.

"What would we bet on?" he asked. Suddenly, she took his hand and ran to the guide. She asked him about the ravens, and he politely informed them the correct number was six, and that there were seven ravens roaming free in the Tower currently.

"Yes, I was right! I win!" exclaimed Monica, clenching her fists.

"Congratulations. What's my punishment, am I getting thrown inside one of the Tower's cells?"

"I'll go easy on you, let me think. I need to find something good." Monica contemplated, drumming her fingers on her chin.

"Remind me to never let you be right again, you're taking way too much enjoyment out of this," he said, squinting his eyes.

Monica smirked at him, then her face lit up. "Oh I know. I can pick a cringe-worthy tourist thing to do for the next sight."

"Oh great. Just make me wear a Union Jack hat while you're at it."

"I know you're joking, but you're just giving me ideas", she said, waggling her eyebrows. "Oh I know, maybe I'll take a picture of you in one of those telephone booths," she added.

"No, please no," Chandler said in a sincere voice.

"I'll have mercy on you, only because you look cute when you beg. We'll take the double-decker bus, and sit at the top."

Chandler groaned, trying not to smile at the thought that she finds him cute.

"Come on Chandler, the weather is beautiful, I can really soak in the city, and we'll get to talk."

He knew he couldn't resist her when she smiled at him with shiny eyes, looking bluer than ever.

"No pictures?" he asked.

"Fine, no pictures."

They were sitting at the back of an open top red London bus, but Chandler realized he wasn't upset at his predicament and gladly welcomed his punishment.

"Let's play a game," he suggested.

"Ok! But I have to warn you, I always win at any game," Monica said, rubbing her hands in anticipation.

"No, not that kind of game, there is no winner and no loser, just questions and answers to get to know each other better. We take turns and we have to answer honestly."

"Oh." Her smile faded. "That's not really a game," she said.

"Don't look so disappointed. It will be fun."

She stared at him for a split second and was endeared by his excitement. "Okay, you go."

He glanced up the sky, then focused on her. "Alright. Describe your first sexual feelings towards a guy. Or a girl. If it's a girl, please describe thoroughly," he said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes and slapped his knee.

"Ok, ok … Chip Matthews," she finally answered.

"Chip?" Chandler emphasized, his face scrunching up.

"Yes. He was this really cute, super popular boy in our high-school, he had a cool motorcycle that we called The Chipper, and he worked at the local movie theater where he'd sneak in girls and do … stuff," she said quietly, Chandler couldn't help but cringe.

"That easy, huh? Maybe I should have gotten a motorcycle in high school instead of trying to make girls laugh."

"Well, I had a secret crush on him, but of course, he was only interested in my best friend, who was hot and popular enough for him." She marked a pause, looking down. Chandler thought she was being falsely modest, he couldn't imagine a girl like her not being part of the popular girls and their cliques.

"I was excited for her but at the same time, I was daydreaming about getting a lipper from the chipper, I felt awful, and I never told my friend. Turns out, on prom night, he ditched her to go sleep with Amy Walsh," she concluded with a sigh.

"Oh. That's terrible. You both are better off without him if you want my opinion. Honestly, I can't picture a guy named Chip not ending up as some kind of loser."

"Sure. His karma is his weird name, Chandler." She joked, and he chuckled.

"By the way, I can sneak you in a movie theater anytime." He winked at her, with a crooked smile.

"Such a tempting offer." She returned his smile, "Ok, my turn. What's the most romantic thing that's ever happened to you?" she asked.

His face went blank, he averted his eyes.

"I'm gonna take a pass on that one. What do you—"

"Hey, wait, I didn't know you could take a pass!" She yawped, with an outraged look.

"Sure, you can take a pass, why not."

"After I've been going on and on about my embarrassing sexual attraction to my best friend's boyfriend?"

"It's not the same, I could tell you all about my first sexual feelings, no big deal. It's Jaclyn Smith in Charlie's Angels by the way." She grinned at his choice. "But romance? I know nothing about romance. And no, I don't think I have experienced that," he added.

"What about love? Have you been in love?" she asked, her eyes questioning him.

"No."

"That's it, that's your answer?" she said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yes, what would be yours?"

"I would have made up a cheesy story or something." She giggled.

"See, it's uncomfortable. Love is like God, you can't see it or touch it, but the believer knows it exists when it happens to him. You just know when you feel it. I'm not sure if I have that kind of faith, I'm even scared I wouldn't recognize it if it happened to me. All I know is, I never experienced that pure, selfless, unconditional form of love ..." He trailed off in a quiet voice, looking away from her. Monica was captivated by the glimpse of vulnerability he was revealing, she noticed a strand of hair falling onto his forehead, and almost instinctively she moved her hand to move it, but eventually, Chandler passed his fingers through his hair. "You know what I mean?" He looked at her.

"Yes, I know what you mean," she said after swallowing, with a half-smile.

"I don't know why I thought this game would be fun."

For about an hour, Monica and Chandler walked around central London, from Big Ben to the Parliament Houses and Buckingham Palace. She insisted on taking pictures with a disposable camera, and he grinned at the way she meticulously chose her angles. They ended up walking in a small, surprisingly quiet street in Westminster. Chandler feeling tired, suggested they sat down on a bench.

"You didn't lie about your lung capacity." She teased him.

"You're not tired? Why don't you sit down?"

"You have to push through the pain, it's gut-check time."

Chandler chuckled and gulped down the last of his water bottle, spraying some on his face.

Monica, still standing up, looked up and froze. "Hey, do you hear that?" she said.

"No, but I can hear my heart thumping, I think it's trying to get away from my body." He held a hand on his chest, grimacing.

She shushed him with her hands. "No, listen!" She insisted, awe lightening up her face. "It's that song, I love that song."

Chandler examined the sound, music was coming from an adjacent Georgian building.

"It's Dean Martin, oh I love him." She exclaimed.

Everybody finds somebody someplace

There's no telling where love may appear

Something in my heart keeps saying

My someplace is here

"This song is one my favorites." She leaned to him, and Chandler felt his breath hitch. She extended a hand to him. "Come on, you can stand up."

"I don't dance."

"I'm not asking you to dance, just to stand up and I will dance." She raised her eyebrows, her hand still inviting him.

Chandler stood up, holding a distance between them. The song playing in the background, but clear and loud enough to make both of them a little nervous, the romantic melody and lyrics bringing out all their feelings on the surface; shyness, uncertainty, trepidation.

At first, she rested her hands on his shoulders, he felt all his body flush, and they both sensed the charged atmosphere.

"You remind me of Dean Martin you know," she said in a lower, softer voice.

"I do?" He couldn't help but respond in a whisper, swallowing hard. He closed the distance, putting his hands on her back.

"Yes. I watched a tape of one of his shows. He enjoys making people laugh as you do."

"Really?" He smiled at her. Her eyes were sparkling, holding his in an intense gaze.

"Yes. He jokes all the time between songs, but you can feel it's all an act. Once he starts singing, his tone and demeanor change completely." His smile widened. They were lightly swaying, rocking from side to side. He slid his hands on the top of her hips, bringing her closer to him, she could feel his heart beating fast against her chest. Chandler became aware of every single nerve end of his body, when Monica's head leaned closer and her mouth was inches from his ear, her breath tickling his neck.

"When he sings about love, it's like he's singing to me," she whispered, "his voice gets serious, he grins in that irresistible smile, and you feel like he means every word. He looks at you like you're the most special person in the world."

There was an implicit understanding between them that she wasn't talking about Dean Martin anymore. Finally, she rested her head on his shoulder, he melted into their embrace and held her tight. His head buried in her hair, he shut his eyes and lost himself in her smell for the duration of a song that felt like a lifetime worth of happiness and bliss.

Everybody loves somebody sometime

And although my dreams were overdue

Your love made it all worth waiting

For someone like you

The song stopped but they were still hugging and moving slowly. She looked up at him, smiling. Chandler no longer felt tired. He felt like seeing things clearly for the first time.

And now, if someone ever asked him what was the most romantic thing that's ever happened to him, he had an answer.

AN:

Mazzy Star - Fade Into You (1996).

Den Martin's "Everybody Loves Somebody" is stuck in my head since I rewatched TOW in Vegas recently, it's the song that is played when Mondler kiss after deciding to get married. He's a great entertainer, my favorite joke of his "I don't drink anymore, I freeze it and eat it like a popsicle".

I wish I could promise quicker updates but I'm leaving on vacation, so I'll probably have the next chapter published when I'm home. Sorry for any inconvenience.

Thanks for reading, and leave a review for any feedback!