December 24th - Christmas Eve

Chandler jogged up to his apartment building, leaning heavily on the buzzer.

"Hello?"

"Taxi for Ms Geller," he grinned.

"Do you mind coming up and helping me with my bags?"

"Bags? Plural?" He frowned, thinking of his single backpack that was already sat in the otherwise empty trunk, "you realize you're only going for a couple of days right?"

"I know that, smartass but I have a nephew to spoil and lots of presents. Come up."

"Ok," he sighed, glancing at the double-parked cab and praying there'd be no traffic guys around on Christmas Eve. Getting clamped wouldn't be a great start to their road trip. He took the stairs quickly and pushed open apartment 20. His eyebrows raising. "Wow," he muttered, "maybe I should have hired a truck."

"Shut up," she laughed good-naturedly as she turned off the television. "It's Christmas."

"And once again I feel the need to point out you're Jewish."

"Oh just shhh," she grinned, too happy to let anything affect her mood. "It's really not that much stuff."

"If you say so," he grinned back, simply pleased that she was so carefree and relaxed.

Monica's critical gaze swept over her apartment to ensure everything was shut off and ok to be left unaccompanied for a few days. With a satisfied nod she walked around the couch and came to stand next to Chandler.

"Nice boots," he couldn't resist but comment.

"What's wrong with them?" she glanced down at the faux fur boots in question, "they are cute and practical."

"Practical for sitting in the cab?" he raised an eyebrow and she gently whacked him for his efforts.

"For the cabin and surrounding snowy forest," she corrected him, her hand slowly smoothing the front of his shirt where she'd targeted, causing him to swallow. "I borrowed them from Rachel and I love them."

"If you say so," he grinned and she resisted the urge to hit him again.

"Just shut up and grab a bag."

"Yes ma'am," he chuckled as he took the majority of the bags.

She smiled her thanks as she picked up the remainder and they left the apartment. He waited as she secured the door, throwing a quick glance at his own one and hoping everything was ok beyond it. Arms loaded to the brink, they navigated the stairs together both in high spirits.

"You sure you don't want me to drive?" she asked as they made their way outside to the thankfully unclamped and unticketed cab.

"Nah, you've been working all day," he dismissed as he dumped the multiple bags onto the sidewalk and popped the trunk.

"So have you," she frowned.

Opps.

"Ah, yeah but I uh had one boring meeting which I got to sleep in. You've been running around and no doubt on your feet all day," she seemed happy enough with his explanation as they filled the trunk and backseats with her luggage.

"Only if you're sure?" her hand rubbed his arm causing him to shiver slightly, little goosebumps prickling his skin.

He looked over at her, meeting those gorgeous eyes. They were bright and filled with excitement and happiness and he was over the moon that he had decided to do this for her. A Christmas road trip, just the two of them for hours. It was going to be bliss.

"Sure I'm sure," he smiled warmly at her, his soft voice filled with sincerity, "I'm the one that invited you remember?"

"I know," she nodded, stepping back and removing her hand as he closed the trunk, "but promise me you'll say something if you want us to switch places."

"Switch places?" he teased, his eyes sparkling, "So you get to be the sarcastic loser and I get to be the hot one?"

"You think I'm hot?" she asked, almost shyly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"Of course," he sounded a little bashful to even his own ears as he decided to test the water a little, "Is that ok?"

"Yeah," her smile widened, meeting his eyes, "More than ok actually."

"Ok," he swallowed, his heart starting to beat a little quicker. "Ok, uh good."

After a couple more beats of just staring at each other, he finally ripped his attention away, collecting himself enough to start to walk around the cab to the driver's side.

"Chandler?" she called softly and he paused, glancing back at her in question. "You aren't a loser, you're far from it, I promise."

He offered her a tug of a smile as he nodded his thanks, turning away once again. As he climbed into the car he was still buzzing a little, hoping this exciting new atmosphere would continue throughout their trip.

"Hey! Look at this," Monica grinned as she found a seat belt.

"Yeah the guy at the garage made her install one," he informed her as he made himself comfortable for the long drive. "You wanna hold the cheat-sheet?"

"The what?" she frowned, as Chandler handed her the piece of paper. "Brake left, gas right…tell me you're kidding or I'm definitely doing the driving."

"Relax, it's not mine," he chuckled, sliding open the divide and chucking the sheet in the vague direction of the overcrowded backseat. "It's a Phoebe special."

"Ah, that makes more sense," she flashed him a smile and he smiled back, letting himself get lost in her incredible eyes once again.

"Right," he forced himself to look away as he turned the key. "Let's get this road trip started."

He pulled away from the curb and started to navigate the way out of the city.

"Wow, look at all the Christmas lights," Monica sounded in awe.

"Yeah…it's as if it's Christmas Eve," he quipped and she whacked him. "Hey, I'm driving here."

"Then you should be putting your focus on the road and not on sarcasm."

"Oh believe me, after 28 years there's no focus needed, it's a hundred percent automatic by now."

"That I do believe," she chuckled reaching out for the stereo.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked curious as her hands started fiddling with the dials.

"Just trying to find some…perfect," Monica sighed, leaning back as christmas music started to fill the cab.

"Oh no no," Chandler shook his head, "we aren't listening to that for 6 hours. No Christmas music allowed."

"But it's Christmas Eve!" she pointed out unimpressed, "You can't ban it! It's the last chance to listen to all the Christmas songs or you have to wait a whole year!"

"You know, I can actually live with that. In fact I'm happy to wait a year," Chandler informed her, "I'd wait even longer if I could. Please switch the station."

With a sigh she did as she was told, only to smile instantly as another Christmas hit came on.

"Try again," he ordered.

She did, with the same result.

"See," she said rather smugly, "every radio station is playing Christmas Music, so you'll have to grin and bear it."

He had to bite his lips to keep from smiling at her. She always got that spark, that glint in her eyes when she was right about something and it lit up her entire face. He'd never tell her but he kinda liked her competitive edge...despite the Pictionary scar he still carried.

"Fine," he grumbled good-naturedly, "you can have two festive themed songs and then we switch to the tape deck."

She raised an eyebrow looking around, "Playing what tapes exactly?"

"Um," his eyes left the busy road for a split second to glance around the cab, grinning as he spotted a lone cassette in the door shelf, "that one."

Frowning, Monica leaned across him, practically draping herself over him to reach it. He bit his lip hard, his jaw tightening as he tried to keep his focus on the road. She thankfully pulled away, tape in hand. She studied it in silence a moment before laughing out loud.

"What?" he asked curious.

"I think you'll prefer the Christmas music to this."

Surely it couldn't be worse than the cheesy crap currently playing?

"What is it?"

"Thrash metal."

"Thrash metal? Seriously? It's..." He pulled a face, glancing at the disturbing cover of the cassette for a second, "it's 'Death Angel' or Christmas music? I think I'll go for option 3."

"Which is?" she asked humorously, placing the tape safely into the alcove of her own door before turning off the radio.

"The art of conversation." He smiled proudly as she snorted, "Or if that fails there's always good old fashioned car games."

"I do like car games," she mused, "Do you know the blue car game?"

"No, what's- ow!" he complained as she thumped his thigh none too gently.

"Blue car," she said quickly as his hand left the wheel to rub the painful spot.

"What the heck was that?"

"There was a blue car," she said innocently.

"And...?"

"And, so you have to call it first and punch the other player in the leg. Blue car!"

"Ow, would you quit it," he complained, "That isn't even a game!"

"Yes it is, me and Ross used to drive our parents crazy with it. Blue car!"

He managed to move his knee out of range just in time.

"No way in hell are we playing that," he protested. "I'll be covered in bruises by the time we get out of the city."

"Wuss," she teased, offering a beautiful smile to take out any sting, "How about I-spy?"

"Boring," he shook his head.

"The license plate game? Twenty questions?"

"Eh..."

"Fine, then it's back to the Christmas music," she pointed out smugly, reaching for the dial before he could protest. "Aw, how appropriate is this?" she grinned as Dean Martin's voice started to fill the cab.

Chandler pulled a grimace as she turned up the volume of Driving Home for Christmas.

"I don't know," he eventually shrugged slightly, his eyes on the dark road ahead of him, "I've always thought it was wrong and applied more to the journey home."

"What?" She frowned looking over to him.

"It just never really fit for me," he shifted a little uncomfortable. "I mean, I know he's probably singing about people coming home to see their kids and family and stuff but for me, my home, my family are here in New York, the place I'm leaving for Christmas. I always thought the lyrics should be changed to driving back home after Christmas. That's the bit I always look forward to the most," he admitted a little embarrassed, "ya, know, getting home to see you guys again and catching up, things getting back to normal."

"I guess you never really look forward to the holidays," she mused quietly.

He shook his head, "Not really, when I was younger I remember there was always more fighting this time of year, then after the divorce it was suddenly a tug of war match to see who got me over the holidays and of course I never got any say in that," he grimaced at the memories. "It was never a...comfortable time, never something to look forward to like everyone else did."

"I'm sorry," her hand was on his thigh instantly and briefly he let his right hand leave the wheel to land on top of hers, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.

"It's alright," he promised, his hand regretfully having to return to the wheel. "I mean don't get me wrong, it'll be nice to see my mom and stuff, but at the same time I, uh, well let's just say that since I found out you were going to ride with me, I've been looking forward to this holiday a lot more."

He risked a quick glance at her, hoping her hadn't gone too far...

"Me too," she smiled, her hand still on his thigh as she rubbed gently. "Don't get me wrong, I've been looking forward to the cabin for ages and I was really upset when I found out I had to work...but then you swooped in and not only do I still get to see them, I also get to spend some extra time alone with you, just the two of us and that's pretty awesome."

"Yeah?" he wet his lips, unsure if he was reading too much into everything but at the same time not caring. Right now he was going to allow himself to believe that just maybe she was feeling this connection between them as well? That maybe all those little moments they seemed to be sharing really were moments, really happening and not just in his head.

"Yeah," she promised softly, moving her hand from his leg. "Ooh, I love this one."

She turned up the opening to Mariah Carey's All I want for Christmas.

He grinned as she started to sing along a little, resisting the urge to ask if she thought this song was appropriate as well? It certainly was for him and he couldn't lie and say his heart didn't skip a beat every time she playfully poked his shoulder on the 'yous'. He again tried to not read too much into it but he promised himself he'd see how the next few hours went and maybe, just maybe he would try and get that Christmas kiss her when he dropped her off...

"How the heck did you beat me?" Chandler frowned as returned from the rest stop to find her already in the cab.

She shrugged offering him a flash of a smile.

"And," he continued, "it looks like you're kinda in my seat…"

"It looks like it's kinda my turn to do some driving," she pointed out.

"Monica you don't have to," he insisted as snowflakes fell, landing in his hair and on his coat.

"You've done it all so far," she protested, "and," she continued deliberately cutting off his argument, "we haven't got much further until the cabin, I mean looking at the map I'd guess an hour tops. Once you have dropped me off you've got another couple of hours still, so I'm doing this stretch, no arguments Mister."

"Are you sure?"

"Get in the damn cab Bing, otherwise I'm leaving without you. Its cold!"

"Ok, ok," she was right, he was starting to freeze his nuts off and it would be nice to take a break.

Chandler jumped into the cab, pulling the door closed on the cold air. It had started snowing a couple of hours ago but luckily it wasn't anywhere near as bad as the reports had made out...yet anyhow.

"Ready?" she grinned, her eyes sparkling and he could only nod dumbly, god she was gorgeous.

She held his gaze for a long moment and then turned the key. The engine made a horrible chugging sound, stuttering and stalling.

"Maybe I should drive?" he teased, "It's likes me."

"Shut up," she grumbled, trying the engine again. Again it didn't turn over. "Why's it not starting?"

"Well, just give me a second here to refer to my degree in car mechanics…"

She rolled her eyes, trying to turn the key again, her foot pumping the gas. The noise it made was even worse before it went completely silent. Nothing.

"Crap," she muttered. "I don't suppose that fake degree means you can fix this?"

"Doubtful," he sighed, "but I'll look just in case it's something obvious."

Pulling his jacket collar up, he exited the cab, back into the cold. Monica popped the hood and he glanced at the battered engine. His eyes ran over all the parts, realizing that as he could only name 2 of them, fixing anything was extremely unlikely. Shaking his head he closed the bonnet.

"So….?" She questioned stepping out into the cold to join him, her arms coming to wrap around herself

"So..." he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets, "I guess we ring around some car rescue people."

"This late on Christmas Eve?" she sounded doubtful.

"Hey, remember you're supposed to be the optimistic one here. No negativity allowed – leave that to me," he joked as he approached the payphone at the reststop. "Huh."

"Good huh or bad huh?" Monica asked biting her lip.

"Kinda bad," he admitted, walking over to her with the receiver in his hand, the cord hanging uselessly from it. "The phone isn't actually connected to anything."

"Perfect," she sighed, which caused Chandler to sigh.

She'd been so looking forward to this and now she was so close. Damn Phoebe's cab.

"It'll be ok," he said softly.

"We're gonna freeze to death on Christmas Eve, how is that fine?"

"We aren't gonna freeze," he corrected her, "We can always huddle together in the restroom until someone comes by."

"I'm not sleeping in a public restroom," she pulled a face at the thought of all those germs, "Sorry but no way."

"Ok," he chewed his lip trying to think of something, "oh!"

He opened the driver's side door, grabbing the map and placing it on the hood for her to see.

"We are only a mile off this little town," he pointed, "Maybe they'll have a motel or something?"

"I guess it's possible…" she mused, studying the route.

"It's that or stay here and freeze to death," he pointed out helpfully.

"Ok, but do you think it's safe to leave all our presents in the cab? What if someone steals them?"

"I can carry essentials but no way am I lugging all that," he warned. "Besides, I'm sure it's a really safe area…phone vandalism aside…"

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"We can hide most of it in the trunk. Come on, it's cold," he complained, opening the trunk to grab his single back pack, shrugging it easily onto his shoulders. "What did you want to take?"

He regretted asking as he watched her start to open bags, quickly rearranging and condensing the items she wanted from multiple bags. They would have all been organised and packed to 'Monica' standard so she clearly knew where things were.

"Any day now would be good," he teased, shifting his weight onto the other leg and rubbing his hands together, trying to keep himself warm. She didn't even look up, instead she flipped him the finger and he chuckled.

Finally she straightened up, her selected bags packed and at her feet as she stashed the others back into the trunk.

When she turned back to him he couldn't help but grin a little. She had on a woolly hat, her coat fastened all the way up. Her red scarf was tight around her neck and she was still wearing those boots. With the faint glow from the reststop light and the snow falling, she looked so perfect, so beautiful.

"Chandler?"

"Sorry," he swallowed, not bothering with an excuse, but managing to stop the words which were at the tip of his tongue, telling her how cute she looked.

He tightened his jacket around him, wishing he was as wrapped up against the elements as she was, he didn't even have a hat or scarf. As he went to pick up one of her bags she stopped him, stepping in front of him.

"Here," she pulled something from her pocket, pushing it at him.

"Wh-?" Chandler looked down, surprised to see his 'Kiss me Quick' santa hat in his hands.

"You left it at my place the other night," she informed him, "put it on, you'll get cold."

"I'm already cold," he admitted, following orders. He might look stupid but at least he wouldn't die of hypothermia on route. "What made you bring this along?"

She reached up, gently adjusting it slightly before her hands lightly grazed his ear and the edge of his hair. His breath caught in his throat as he watched her.

"I thought it could be fun...besides, it would be a shame not to use it, especially as I spent all that money on it."

He swallowed, hard as realization dawned.

"You bought it?"

"Yeah," she smiled almost shyly, her voice was hushed as the back of her hands gently touched his cold cheek, slowly trailing down to his jaw. "I thought it would look cute on you."

His heart rate picked up, his eyes desperately trying to read hers. Despite the cold he could feel the start of a blush and he fought the urge to look down and shuffle his feet.

"Yeah?" he finally asked, his voice quiet.

"Yeah," she repeated, "and I was right," she stared into his eyes, messages passing between them.

Leaning forwards she gently placed a light kiss to his cold cheek, re-enacting their moment from Thursday night. His eyes closed, savouring the feeling of her lips on his skin. Slowly she removed her hand and eventually she stepped away, picking up her bag and started to walk. Chandler stood frozen to the spot, blowing out a long breath before opening his eyes, picking up her other bag and jogging to catch up to her.

He couldn't believe what was happening tonight but he was loving this, loving that they were standing together of the cusp of whatever this was and both seeming to be willing to embrace it, both acknowledging the change. Once he'd caught up to her, he bumped her shoulder lightly with his before his glove covered hand searched for hers. Their fingers entwined and his stomach did a little flip when she squeezed it softly looking up at him from under her eyelashes.

With a shared smile they continued walking along the abandoned road in companionable silence.

He should be hating this right now; hating the bitter cold, hating the unrelenting snow, hating putting his body through a midnight hike. But he didn't hate it, in fact none of these things were even bothering him simply because Monica was with him. If he didn't already know he was in love with her, than this would have been a pretty clear sign. Silly conversation was flowing so easily, making this trip seem quicker. She still looked beautiful, she was laughing at his jokes and they were still holding hands.

It was quite possibly the best Christmas Eve he'd ever had.

"Those boots still ok?"

"Yeah," she nodded, glancing down at them. "Thank God they are comfy because I don't think you'd be volunteering to carry both me and the bags."

"I'd try, but I doubt we'd make it very far," he chuckled, having visions of them collapsing in a heap after just a few steps.

"I suspect they aren't as snow proof as I'd hoped. I think the snow will ruin them, all the fake fur will get matted and soggy," she lifted her leg, dangling a booted foot for a second to prove her point. "I'll have to buy Rachel some new ones."

"I doubt she'll notice, the woman has hundreds of pairs of shoes," he dismissed easily.

"Oh, she'll notice," Monica corrected him, "she may have lots but she knows each and everyone of them. They're like her children."

"That's a disturbing thought," he pulled a face, trying to get his mind around the concept.

"Hey look," she pointed and he looked in the direction she indicated, relieved as a small town came into view. "We must be nearly there."

"Great, then all we need is to find someone still awake at this time of night who can point us in the direction of a motel or inn."

"We're just like Mary and Joseph," she commented, causing him to frown in disbelief. "Ya know, walking on Christmas Eve, looking for somewhere to stay, let's hope we find something better than a stable."

"There's so many things wrong with that sentence," he protested. "You aren't pregnant, this is most certainly not Bethlehem, we haven't got a donkey and...you're Jewish!"

She shrugged as they continued walking, "I was just pointing out the similarities."

He chuckled then, shaking his head at her. He loved her silliness.

As they got nearer, they spotted a church with the lights still vey much on. In mutual agreement they headed that way, passing a few snowmen that had been constructed in the church ground. As they neared the building the doors suddenly swung open and people started to trickle out.

"You may well get that Christmas miracle," Chandler commented as people started to notice them and approach them.

"You folks, alright there?" a grey haired bearded man reached them first. "You looking for Liz?"

"Um, we're looking for somewhere to stay the night?" Chandler winced. "See our car broke down back at the rest stop about a mile back," he gestured vaguely behind him, "and we're pretty much stranded."

"Of all the things to happen on Christmas Eve," someone else commented sympathetically.

"Mandy, can you find Liz?" the first man asked the woman next to him, who nodded and disappeared through the crowd. "Liz runs the local B&B in this town, but I think she was fully booked, what with many people using this as a pit stop for the bigger towns and cities. Where were you heading to for Christmas?"

"Vermont," Chandler said quickly, deciding it was easier to explain the cabin. "White State park."

"That's a beautiful place," another woman agreed, one who appeared to be in her 40s. "I'm Annie, Den's neighbour," she gestured to the man that had befriended them first. "And this here is my husband Michael."

"Hi," the man nodded in greeting, "nice hat."

"Oh, right," Chandler blushed a little but didn't feel the need to remove it. It was cold and wet and if he kept it on there was more chance of that Christmas kiss...

"Hi," Monica rescued him, shaking their hands, "I'm Monica and this is Chandler. My parents rented a cabin there for the holidays and it was meant to be a big family celebration but..."

Chandler moved closer to her, pulling her to him in comfort and giving her shoulders a squeeze. She looked up at him gratefully.

"If it helps you couldn't have timed it better," Michael informed them, "we just got out of the midnight service. Another half an hour and I think the place would be deserted, everyone would be home asleep."

"Well, we're due some luck tonight," Chandler commented, watching as yet another woman came and joined them.

"You needed me Den?"

"This here is Liz," Den introduced, "Liz, Monica and Chandler. They're stranded here, broken down car. You got any rooms left?"

"My dears, how terrible," she empatheized. "You're in luck, I had a couple cancel on me at the last minute, they were coming from the North but what with those horrible snowstorms they couldn't make it."

"Thank you!" Monica's face broke into a huge smile and Chandler couldn't help but smile back, "Are you sure it isn't too much trouble?"

"Nonsense," the portly lady, dismissed. "The room's all made up and even if it wasn't we wouldn't leave you out on the street- where would the festive spirit be in that? How far back did you break down?"

"At the rest stop, a mile or so back," Monica repeated.

"Then you must be tired. Come on, let's get you in the warm, you poor devils."

They picked up their luggage, waving goodbye and exchanging Chrismtas pleasantries with the people they'd met.

"We really appreciate this," Chandler told her.

"Very much so," Monica backed up, "We can't tell you how much."

"You're very welcome," she told them easily. "And the pair of you make such a nice couple. How long have you been married?"

Chandler's wide eyes shot to Monica's who shrugged. It was easier to play along than cause any fuss.

"2 years," he said quickly.

"Aw, still newly weds," she laughed. "Just wait until you've been married as long as my husband and I."

They reached a building and stopped, as Liz dug around in her handbag and opened the door, ushering them inside.

"Hank?" she called, "we've got some last minute guests."

A rather large round man emerged, looking tired, "How'dy," he greeted with a yawn.

"Can you check them into room 3? I'm going to put some soup on for them."

"Oh, you don't need to do that," Monica insisted, just as her tummy rumbled.

"it's no bother, you must be starving and cold, soup will cure that, you'll see. I'll bring it up shortly."

"Thank you," Chandler nodded to her.

Hank checked them in, taking a few details and showing them to their room. Before he left he even started the small fire for them, assuring it would quickly warm the place.

"Wow," Monica commented when the door was closed, "This place is beautiful."

"Yeah," he agreed softly, his eyes taking in the room before landing on her. She was beautiful.

"I better page Ross," she sighed, "he'll be getting worried."

"Let me," he said, stepping towards her, "why don't you take a hot shower and get changed into something warm. You're practically shivering."

"But you-"

"Just throw me a towel, I'll be fine."

"You sure?" He nodded, their eyes meeting and holding, "Ok, thank you."

He nodded again, swallowing as she finally moved away into the bathroom. What was happening tonight? Suddenly a towel landed on his head and he heard her rich laugh before the door closed. Shaking his head to clear it (and the towel) he made his way to the phone, leaving a short message for Ross before locating his backpack. He pulled off the wet clothes, quickly drying himself and throwing on his sweats and favorite sweater. He was just putting on some warm socks when there was a knock at the door.

"Here you go," Liz handed him a tray with a couple of bowls of soup and pieces of buttered chunky bread.

"Thank you, it smells amazing."

"You're very welcome my dear. Now sleep well, and merry Christmas."

"To you too, and thanks again for everything."

She smiled warmly, nodding and walking away. Chandler closed the door, placing the tray onto the small table as Monica emerged. He turned to her, his eyes automatically running over her towel-clad form, god she was beautiful.

"It smells lovely," Monica commented on the aromas from the food.

"Oh, yeh," he murmured, forcing himself to rip his eyes from the towel and onto her amused face. "Yeah, it does," he said with more conviction.

There was a moment of silence.

"So, I'm gonna grab some clothes..."

"Right, yeah," he swallowed again, wondering what was wrong with him. "Of course, I'll go use the uh..." he gestured to the bathroom.

When safely hidden away he let out a long breath, wiping away enough steam so he could look in the mirror. The sight of her in a towel was still in the front of his mind, that coupled with the fact the small ensuite smelt like her, overwhelming his senses. She was overwhelming his senses. He'd liked her for so long now, years even, but it had got a lot stronger this last year. He couldn't work out why it was all changing tonight. Why he was suddenly letting himself believe that she possibly wanted this too, that something might happen tonight, that something important would define their shifting friendship.

His stomach tightened in nervous anticipation. She'd called him cute, held his hand, touched his thigh, bought him the hat, kissed his cheek...things were definitely changing.

With a sigh he used the small bathroom before pushing the door open just a crack.

"You decent?" he asked in a hushed whisper, very aware that the rest of the B&B were proably tucked up asleep.

"Decent enough," she teased as he stepped out.

He couldn't help but smile at her. "Cute PJs," she was in some PJ bottoms that had little reindeer printed on them and an over-sized sweatshirt, which looked familiar..."Wait is that mine?" he asked.

"Maybe originally," she teased, not looking at all apologetic as her finger twisted the warm material. "You left it around ours ages ago and I liked it, so I..."

"Stole it?"

"Rehomed it," she corrected innocently.

"I guess that's fair," he shrugged nonchalantly, "it's not like you see me much to return it, you had no choice."

"Exactly," she smiled sweetly, walking over to him. "Besides it's all soft and nice and warm, don't make me give it back," she pouted a little.

Despite knowing he was being manipulated, he still couldn't bring himself to call her on it. He kinda loved the fact that she had wanted to keep something of his and was willing to fight for it. So instead of arguing he grinned stupidly, staring into her twinkling eyes.

"Fine," he concluded fondly, "but you owe me, Geller."

"Thank you," she smiled cheekily, rubbing his arm before moving away and his attention turned to the room.

In front of the fire were some cushions and a blanket had been placed there, plus their tray of food and a couple of mugs.

"Looks cozy," he commented, as he approached.

"I thought we deserved cozy after the night we've had," she pointed out as she selected her cushion, sitting down crossed leg.

"We definitely do," he agreed, sitting down next to her, close to her, very close, their sides touching.

To his delight she didn't move away, instead she smiled before pulling the blanket over them to keep them snug. They leant with their backs against the couch, the fire warming them as they gratefully ate their soup.

"I didn't even see her bring in any tea," he commented, placing the bowl down to pick up a mug, frowning as he realized it wasn't very warm and the color was very off.

"She didn't," Monica tried to look innocent.

He sniffed the mug, confirming his suspsicions.

"Wine?" he asked surprised. "They gave us wine?"

"Not exactly," she shook her head, "See, I had a small bottle on me, ready for when my mom got too much."

"Wait..." he frowned. "You made us lug wine all that way? No wonder the bags were so damn heavy."

"It was only a small bottle," she shrugged, "and I thought it would be nice to help us unwind."

Suddenly her hand was on his knee and he swallowed.

"Soup and wine...I'm sure it will catch on."

"Maybe it will become a Christmas tradition," she mused, removing her hand in favor of picking up her own glass, "Soup and wine on Christmas Eve by the fire."

"To us," he said, holding up his mug and with an amused grin she tapped hers to his in a toast.

Together they drank in silence, both watching the flickering flames, lost in their thoughts.

"Thank you, Chandler," she murmured, causing him to face her.

"For what? Getting you stuck in the middle of nowhere and missing your family celebrations?"

She shook her head, facing him, her hand brushing against cheek, "The cab breaking down wasn't your fault," she promised softly.

He swallowed, she was so close to him, her fingers burning his skin, that butterflies started in his stomach. They were alone, it was a romantic setting and he could only hope that these signals meant something.

"Thank you for waiting around all day so you could drive me, if it wasn't for me you'd be with your mom by now, so thank you for doing this."

"It was no problem," he whispered, caught in this moment, keeping his eyes locked with hers. "Besides, I had work so-"

"I know you didn't have work," she whispered, her fingers stroking over his cheeks, his jaw, tracing little patterns of fire. "I know that was a lie so I wouldn't feel bad, so thank you. It was really sweet of you Chandler. You always look out for me, always put me first."

"You deserve it," he murmured, totally mesmerized.

"You know," she swallowed, her tone still hushed, her hands still touching his face, both still caught in this spell that had overtaken them. "I realized something recently, that you'll always there for me, that you always have been. That you're my best friend, my absolute rock and I couldn't imagine my life without you. You're my everything Chandler, you've been in front of me all this time and I finally know now that I want you to be even more than a friend."

She broke the eye contact, her hands moving to search under the cushion until she pulled out some fake mistletoe.

"And," she bought the mistletoe between them, meeting his intense eyes, "I'm praying it's not one-sided because..."

Not wanting to hear her doubts or let herself talk herself out of this he leaned forward quickly and pressed his lips to hers. It was a soft, lingering kiss and over too quickly. He gently pulled away, meeting her wide-eyes.

"Not one-sided," he murmured and she beamed happily, her hand pulling his face back down to hers.

His eyes fluttered closed as he sunk into the kiss, shifting a little on the floor to get closer to her. Their lips caressed each other's firmly, delighting in the new sensations they were experiencing. Her mouth opened, tongues explored and he couldn't help but let out a little groan.

When they pulled back Chandler was giddy, a blinding smile on his face as his own hand came up to run through her hair.

"Did you steal that from my hat?" he asked playfully.

"Maybe," she giggled, throwing it behind them onto the couch and kissing him again.

"Hmmm," he murmured, sinking further into the kiss. Why had they never done this before? He knew it would be good but he hadn't been able to imagine her taste, imagine just how soft her lips were under his.

She made some kind of noise that just triggered something in him, causing him to pull her closer. She moved with him, and slowly he lowered her onto the blankets, never breaking the kiss, the connection. Monica sighed in approval as his body covered hers. As wonderful as it felt he was aware it was moving fast, very fast.

"You sure about this?" he asked, his breathing heavy as he pulled away enough to look at her face. Taking in the flushed skin, the kissed lips and the desire he'd never seen before being reflected back at him.

"I've never been more sure of anything," she breathed, her hand touching his cheek.

It was all the answer he needed as he pulled them together once more, letting their bodies tangle in the blankets.

It definitely was the best Christmas Eve he'd ever experienced.

A/N - Thank you for all the comments and reviews - I know everyone's busy so its very much appreciated and a great motivation to keep going. It's a little later in the day than I'd hoped...but I guess it's set late on Christmas eve...so that's my excuse ;o) Anyhow, happy Christmas Eve everyone!