Recovering the Satellites

Chapter Seven

~.~

Longest chapter I've ever written in my life—brace yourself! ;)

~.~December 2001~.~

Chandler ran down the third block of his run, glancing around while attempting to look like he wasn't actually glancing around. This was where he usually saw her, coming from the opposite direction, would slow down for a moment until she caught up, and then they would both turn down the same street and finish the majority of their run together. He didn't know anything about her, didn't even know her name, but they had been running together for the past month. He didn't want to introduce himself, didn't want to find out her story, because, in all honesty, he didn't want to be in a relationship right now. Nine months ago, he'd been engaged, completely uprooted his life, and moved to California. Even though it had been of his own doing, it still took him a few months to get over Monica. He had dialed the first nine digits of her phone number numerous times, but always hung up the phone, not wanting to make it any harder for her by talking to her. He had hurt her, he had left, and he was, overall, happy. He didn't need to call Monica and make it any harder for her. Or, if he was being honest, harder for himself.

And then, as he had started to get over Monica, and it was a few days in-between times he thought about her, along came the girl with the green eyes. The first day his path had crossed hers running, he couldn't help but smile at her. A real, genuine smile, not a slight smile or head nod or a wave he would give to other runners he crossed paths with, but a real smile. She was just so…captivating, he couldn't help it. She was pretty, not spectacularly so, but there was something about her…with her bright green eyes and auburn hair, or maybe it was how gracefully she moved. Whatever the reason, he was absolutely captivated by her from the first moment he saw her. He then proceeded to, in completely Chandler-esque fashion, trip over his own feet and fall flat on his face. She stopped, obviously stifling laughter as she offered her hand, asking if he was okay. He flushed, said he was great, they both smiled at each other for a moment longer, and she finally ended the non-conversation with a, "Well, I'll see you later."

And he did. The next day, the same time, same spot, he saw her again. And from that day on, they would both smile at each other, turn down the same street, and run together without a word for a couple of miles, before going in their own directions again.

It had been a good four weeks of that now. And today, he was going to tell her his name. He didn't want to date her, but a name would be nice. Just because he looked forward to their meeting every morning and left precisely at the same time every day just to make sure they would meet at the same point, didn't mean anything. He just wanted to know her name. They ran together everyday; not knowing her name seemed almost rude.

When Chandler saw her coming from a slight distance, he slowed completely to a stop, pulling the headphones out of his ears. The green-eyed girl looked at him curiously, coming to a stop directly in front of him and doing the same.

Chandler smiled for a moment, licking his lips as he extended his hand. "I'm Chandler."

Returning his smile, she reached out for his hand. "Mary."

"Nice to finally meet you, Mary," Chandler grinned, putting his headphones back into his ears. Mary followed suit, and they continued down the same path as usual, stealing glances at each other every once in a while, until they got to the point in their run where they split up again. "See you tomorrow, Mary," Chandler smiled at her as she turned to leave, waving at him as he watched her go.

The next day, Mary was stopped at the corner of their meeting spot, this time waiting for Chandler. Chandler slowed to a stop as he approached her, removing his headphones again. Mary shook her head, "We can talk and run. I was just waiting for you." Chandler nodded, and they both resumed running. "So, I was thinking last night, and I have a theory," Mary began, and Chandler looked at her, not sure where she could be going with her theory. "See, I feel like I like you, a lot, but I don't even know you," she continued. "Well, there was this psychology experiment, where men were set up to cross either a scary suspension bridge, or else just a regular bridge, and there was an attractive female interviewer at the other side who handed them a questionnaire, and gave them her phone number to call if they had any questions. Well," she continued, "more of the men from the suspension bridge condition called, because they misattributed their heightened sense of arousal to being attracted to the woman, not to having just crossed a scary bridge. Misattribution of arousal," she finished. "We run together every day. Misattribution of arousal."

"Wow, that is probably the most complex way I've ever been preemptively blown off before," Chandler laughed.

"Sorry, I'm not trying to blow you off," Mary smiled. "I just, I like you, I look forward to seeing you every day, and I don't even know you. I just...I'm not looking for anything right now…."

"If it makes you feel any better, neither am I."

"A little better," Mary smiled.

"For the record, though," Chandler continued, "I do like you, too." Mary attempted to speak, but Chandler cut her off. "However, if it makes you feel better, we can definitely go with your theory. Because I'm really not looking for anything right now, either."

"As long as we're on the same page," Mary smiled.

"Probably more like the same paragraph," Chandler returned her smile.

"This is me," Mary pointed as they approached the point where they parted. "See you tomorrow?"

Chandler grinned, nodding as he continued running. "See you tomorrow, Mary."

~.~

Chandler sighed, looking down at his watch as he waited in line for coffee. The barista that morning must have been particularly slow-moving, because the line was barely crawling forward. He again sighed in frustration, staring the barista down from his spot five people back in line, silently begging the girl to please move faster.

"You clean up well."

Chandler jumped at the voice, the only noise before having been from behind the counter as well as the soft music, most people in too much of a hurry and not awake enough before their morning coffee to make any kind of conversation. Turning towards the sound of the voice, Chandler smiled.

"Are you following me?" he laughed, looking Mary up and down as he thought the same of her, that she cleaned up well.

"I already got my coffee," she motioned to the cup in her hand. "I was here first. Are you following me, Chandler?" she teased back.

"I might just be," Chandler nodded. "Oh, hey," he stepped closer to her, though trying not to lose his place in line. "Do you feel that?" he motioned between them.

Mary smiled at him curiously. "Feel what?"

"We aren't running," he motioned around them, "but, I still like you," he finished with a shrug. "Proper attribution of arousal?"

Mary laughed out loud, hard, and at that moment, Chandler knew he was heading down the road he didn't want to be heading towards at that moment. There was just something about this girl….

"I would love to stand here and debate this with you," she continued to grin before taking a sip of her coffee. "However, I am late for class," she motioned towards the door, and Chandler's face fell. "That I teach," she quickly added off of Chandler's look. "The class that I teach. At City College."

Chandler breathed out a sigh of relief at that. "So, Mary the college professor, if I were to go to the sandwich shop around the corner for lunch, around, say, noon, would I see you there?"

Mary looked down, biting her lip. Chandler braced himself for the worst, cursing himself for acting on this crush, because it was a fun crush to have, and if she shot him down, it would make running with her still rather awkward. "Well, I have two classes this morning, and then work at my other job this afternoon. But," she continued, "I am planning on being here grading papers tonight, from, say, eight 'til midnight…"

"I will see you later, then," Chandler smiled.

"Bye, Chandler," Mary added, turning to leave, and although she kind of hated herself for saying yes to him, she couldn't help but smile as she walked away.

~.~

Chandler glanced around the coffee shop as he entered. He usually only went there in the morning, so it was weird seeing it much emptier and feeling so much more low-key than in the hurried morning rush. Seeing Mary sitting at the corner table, indeed grading papers, he couldn't help but smile. As he neared the table, Mary looked up, returning his smile.

"Just so we're clear," Chandler sat down, "this isn't a date, right?"

"Definitely not," Mary shook her head. "Because we're not doing that, right?"

"Right. Same paragraph," Chandler grinned. "So, Mary the college professor, what class are you grading papers for? And shouldn't you be on winter break or something?"

"Break starts next week," she shook her head. "That's why I need to get these papers graded. They're for a research methods class," she straightened her stack of papers out, slipping them into a folder. I also teach into to psych," she continued.

"Which explains the misattribution or whatever theory," Chandler nodded.

"Right," Mary smiled. "I'm not a professor, though. I teach at a community college. I only have my Master's right now."

"Right now?"

"I'm taking a couple of years off, but I'm going back to finish my PhD," Mary nodded. "I'm going to start applying places again next fall."

"Why didn't you just keep going, I mean, if you don't mind me asking. People always say they're going back to school someday…."

"Oh, but I am," Mary smiled, used to that question. "I plan on applying to a few schools on the East Coast. For some reason, I always wanted to go to Yale, I guess because my grandparents live out there, so I went to the campus all the time as a kid and just always said that, someday, I would go there. After high school, though, I ended up just staying here for college, for a guy," she rolled her eyes. "I got into every college I applied to, but just…."

"Took the safety school track in life?"

"Yes!" Mary's eyes lit up at his understanding.

Chandler laughed at her reaction, raising his hand. "King of the Safety School Life Track."

"So, what was your safety school?"

"NYU. I didn't even apply anywhere else," Chandler shrugged. "I mean, I could have probably gotten in wherever. My parents sent me to a couple of pretty prestigious prep schools, and they would have paid for me to go wherever, but, man, only applying at NYU sure did get a reaction out of my mom," he laughed. "And then, after college, I stayed on that same path in life. I took the first job I was offered, it turned from a temp job into a permanent career, and the next thing I knew, it was ten years later, and there I was, farther away from any sort of goal than I had been when I started school, and completely lost to who I even was."

"So, how did Mr. Safety School get from the East Coast to the West Coast, then?"

"I realized what I was doing. I realized that I had been settling relentlessly for years, and if I were to-" Chandler stopped suddenly, realizing what he was saying to her, having planned to finish that sentence, 'if I were to marry Monica.' Not exactly first date kind of material.

"If you were to," Mary looked at him curiously, her stack of papers now on the edge of the table away from them.

"I realized that if I were to continue settling, and stay in the same place, at the same job, stuck in the same routine-"

"And with the same girl?" Mary cut him off, saying what he was dancing around.

"And marry the same girl," Chandler nodded at her, "that one day I would wake up incredibly cynical and bitter and mad at the world."

"So, you…"

"You have a way of getting people to talk," Chandler laughed.

"Right, did I not mention that what I plan on going for my PhD in is clinical psychology?" Mary laughed.

"No, but makes sense," Chandler laughed as well. "So, I told her all of that, and about an hour and a half after having a ring thrown at my forehead so hard it left a mark, I was on a plane to San Diego, for no reason other than it was the first flight out. And here I am," he held up his hands.

"How long have you been here?"

"Um, almost nine months," Chandler replied. "And, now that you know my life story, why did you decide to take time off from school if you're so adamant about finishing?"

Mary sighed, looking down. "Well," she began slowly, "My mom passed away last spring."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry," Chandler placed one hand on hers. "Now I feel like an ass for pressing you about it…."

"You're fine," Mary shook her head. "Anyway, I withdrew my application from Yale, as well as the other schools I applied to on the East Coast, because I didn't even want to know if I was getting in, because I knew I couldn't leave right now. But my interview at Yale went so well, and I was even talking to this professor regularly," Mary trailed off, shaking her head. "But my mom just got sick so suddenly, and then a few weeks later…she was gone. And I just-I just couldn't leave. I couldn't leave my dad and my sister. The first 25 years of my life I had done nothing but dream of leaving here and figuring out who I was without all of these same people around, while doing nothing about it, and when the chance finally came, I couldn't….leave."

"I'm sorry," Chandler repeated in a whisper.

"Not your fault, but thank you," Mary repeated back quietly. "Anyway," she cleared her throat, "it's really not that bad. I really don't mind the teaching job I found, and it's kind of made me realize I want to go into more of the research and teaching side of psychology than the practicing side," Mary shrugged. "It's all about finding the silver lining." Chandler smiled, marveling at her ability to be that sincere in her statement. "Anyway, what is it that you do, Chandler…" she trailed off, not knowing his last name.

"Bing," he finished for her. "And I write a newspaper column. What was the other job you mentioned, Mary…" he trailed off with a grin, playing her own game.

"Johnson. Mary Johnson," she smiled. "'Ordinary name for an extraordinary girl,' is what my mom always used to say," she added. "I work at a group home for teenagers who are kind of on their last strike before going to jail. We work with them on good behaviors versus bad behaviors, and they have a whole point system for privileges based on that. If they do anything wrong, we talk to them one-on-one about correcting what they did," Mary trailed off. "Or if they do anything in an attempt to harm themselves or someone else, we have to take them down. I may look small, but I can have a sixteen-year-old on the floor like that," Mary snapped her fingers as she grinned, and Chandler laughed. "That doesn't happen very often," she added, still smiling. "They're overall good people. Just need some love and guidance. Sadly, mostly the former."

"You're like a real life good person," Chandler marveled at her.

"In comparison to you? Are you a horrible person?" Mary laughed, and Chandler shook his head. "Thank you, though. I try," she smiled shyly. "Um, I actually kind of need to grade some of these," she said softly, motioning to the stack of papers in front of her.

"Mind some company?" Chandler asked, just as softly. "I kind of have some work to do, too," he pulled his laptop out of his briefcase, setting it on the table.

"Well, that would be one way to make this definitely not a date."

"Definitely," Chandler laughed in agreement. "I'm gonna grab something to drink," he motioned towards the counter. "Want anything?"

Mary shook her head, motioning to her own cup. "I'm good right now, thanks."

"Be right back," he smiled, turning towards the counter, and Mary watched after him with a smile.

The night continued with Mary grading her papers, every once in awhile sharing a funny typo or horribly incorrect sentence with Chandler, who she in turn finally got to share one of his past columns with her, although he refused to show her what he was currently working on since it wasn't done yet. They mostly worked, every once in awhile glancing or smiling at each other, comfortable in the silence.

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but we're closed now." Chandler and Mary both looked up suddenly as one of the employees came over to their table, smiling, but obviously not too enthused about their presence. They both apologized, leaving a pretty sizeable tip for being there so long, before heading out the door.

"I had fun tonight," Chandler smiled at Mary as they started walking.

"Yea, definitely ranks pretty high up there as far as non-dates go," Mary added with a smirk. "This is actually me," Mary motioned to a building only a block or so down, and Chandler was surprised to find she lived so close to him as well. "I'll see you in the morning?"

Chandler grinned, watching her walk up the stairs. He wanted to kiss her; god, he wanted to kiss her. But it wasn't a date. He had sworn they were on the same page. She planned on moving across the country in another year or so. She didn't want to date. He wasn't ready to date. It wasn't a date.

He would, however, see her in the morning.

"See you in the morning, Mary."

~.~

Chandler grumbled around his apartment the next morning as he got ready to go run. It was raining. Not only raining, but pouring. He knew, for a fact, that Mary would still be running, despite the rain. He'd got caught in the rain, on accident, a time or two, and though he had been pretty upset about it, it hadn't caused any noticeable strain on her routine. And so, he presumed, on days that he stayed home dry and warm, Mary ran in the rain.

And he wanted to see Mary. He had been thinking about her since he got home the night before, and he wanted to see her again. And so, he was about to run in the rain, one of his least favorite things in the world to do. He opened the door, sighing as he walked slowly down the stairs to the front door of the building. Sighing, he opened that one as well.

"Mary," he gasped, seeing her standing in front of him, holding an umbrella. "But, how-"

"I came back outside last night, to come after you, but you were already going inside.

"Why did you come after me?" Chandler asked, taking a step outside, but trying to stay under the overhang in order to stay dry.

Mary smiled, moving to the top step. "Because it's been a really long time since I had so much fun on a non-date, and I know we said we're on the same page or paragraph or whatever about that, but-"

Chandler cut her off, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her, ignoring the pouring rain as she wrapped her arms around his neck, dropping her umbrella to the ground. He kissed her over and over, having wanted to do that for some time now, ignoring the people who had started coming out of his building to go to work. When she finally pulled back, they were both breathless, shaking in the cold rain.

"Do you want to come in and warm up?" Chandler asked, unsure of how far he should push this. "I mean, unless you actually wanted to run…."

Mary shook her head fiercely. "I hate running in the rain. I only do it to see you."

Chandler laughed, holding the door open for her to enter, wrapping his arm around her as they headed towards his apartment.

~.~March 2002~.~

Mary woke up, opening her eyes slowly as she realized where she was. Though she and Chandler had been seeing each other for a few months now, they had yet to actually spend the night at each other's apartment. It seemed to keep things in an un-relationship and un-dating place by not actually spending the night. Last night, though, she had stayed at Chandler's. She had woken up at three-thirty in the morning, completely intending on going home. However, Chandler had rolled over, wrapping his arm around her as he slept. She had nuzzled closer to him, realizing something that scared her: She didn't want to leave.

"We still don't have to call it dating," Chandler's voice broke into Mary's thoughts. "I mean, we can call it, like…Steve…or something, if you want…."

Mary laughed, rolling over to face him. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to seven. Wanna go run?"

"Yea, I just need to go change," she moved to get out of bed, but Chandler pulled her back, kissing her hard, before releasing her. Mary smiled for a moment, nodding at him. "We can call it Steve. See you outside in twenty minutes?" Chandler nodded, watching her leave.

This "Steve," if that's what they were going to call it, didn't appear to be ending anytime soon….

~.~May 2002~.~

Chandler sat on one end of the couch, frowning at the screen in front of him, feet up in front of him on his coffee table. From the other end of the couch where she was grading papers, Mary sighed audibly for the third time in the past few minutes, causing Chandler to laugh.

"Wanna trade?" Mary asked, extending the top paper on her pile. "If this kid ends one more sentence in a preposition, I will most likely make a few comments that may or may not make him cry." Chandler again laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, but I'm serious," she scooted closer to him "Trade me," she handed him the paper.

"But if I'm grading your paper, what are you doing for me?"

"Writing your next paragraph," she grabbed his laptop as he took her paper and pen. "Or your first paragraph, it would appear," she laughed at the blank word document. "What have you been doing for the past hour?"

Chandler smiled sheepishly. "Have you ever played the game Bubble Blaster?" He leaned over her, clicking on the web page he had open behind the word document. "Ridiculously addictive."

"Chandler, Chandler, Chandler," she shook her head at him, smiling as she began typing on his computer. Chandler leaned over her, trying to see what she was typing. Mary shook her head again, leaning away. "You can have it back when you're done with that paper."

Chandler laughed, looking down at the paper in front of him, as he started to read through the paper. He frowned at all of the grammatical and spelling mistakes, marking on the paper each time he found one.

"So," Chandler started, "do you take a point off for every certain number of mistakes, because, if so, I don't think that," he flipped back to the front page, "Adam here is going to pass."

Mary took the paper as Chandler handed it to her, flipping through it as well. "That's why I hate grading his papers," she nodded, laughing at the fact that Chandler had drawn smiley faces next to the couple of particularly good points in the paper, and sad faces wherever there were multiple mistakes. "You wrote 'bonus points!' next to the word 'splendiferous?'" Mary laughed, looking at him in amusement. "Is that even a word?"

"I wasn't sure, which was why he earned some bonus points for creativity," Chandler explained with a grin, taking his computer off of Mary's lap. "Let's see what Mary has decided I should write about, shall we?" he raised he eyebrows, looking at the computer screen. He smiled as he read the only line she had written: I am quite fond of this "Steve." "This took you that entire time?" Chandler tried to sound angry, but knew he was failing.

"Oh, no," Mary shook her head. "I did beat your high score on Bubble Blaster, though," she leaned across him, grinning as she showed him the screen. "It's ridiculously addictive."

Chandler laughed, pulling her closer as he wrapped his arms around her, and his next four words were out of his mouth before he even thought them through, "God, I love you."

Mary froze in his arms. And Chandler froze. Because that wasn't where this was supposed to be going. It was supposed to be casual. Neither of them wanted a relationship, and that word sure changed that playing field.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" Chandler started sputtering, but Mary cut him off.

"No, you did," she looked down at her hands, and he loosened his arms from around her. "I-I think we're both kind of lying to ourselves here," she said quietly, and Chandler started to move away. "No-no-no," she grabbed his arm. "That's not what I meant. What I meant was…we both know what this is. And it's not what we wanted, but we can pretend all we want, or call it Steve or John or some other name, but it doesn't change what this," she motioned between them, "is." Chandler nodded, still looking down as she attempted to make eye contact. "Chandler. Chandler," she repeated, pushing his chin up with her finger so that he would look at her. "I love you, too," she whispered. "So, we can call this or not call this whatever we want, but-"

And this time Chandler cut her off, kissing her as he pulled her closer, finally letting himself feel what he had been trying not to feel for nearly six months now, and what a year earlier he hadn't been sure he would ever feel again in the same way he had for Monica.

He loved her.

~.~September 2002~.~

"Hey," Chandler greeted Mary with a kiss as he met her for lunch. "Look," he handed her a section of the newspaper, trying to contain his grin.

Mary looked at him oddly, but started reading his column anyway, not really understanding why it was so exciting. Every once in awhile, he'd get really excited about a column and have her read it after he wrote it, but this one didn't seem like one of those, except-

"It's Thursday!" Mary grinned, putting down the paper. "You don't have a column on Thursday!"

"I do now," Chandler grinned as Mary threw her arms around his neck.

"So, you got it?"

"I got it," he continued to grin, kissing her hair as he held her.

"This calls for some major celebrating," Mary pulled back, clapping her hands excitedly. "You don't have to go back to work this afternoon, right? Because I'm done for the day, and this calls for," Mary trailed off, not sure of what it called for. "Well, I don't know, but getting a daily column calls for something more exciting than lunch at a deli," she grabbed his hand, pulling him outside. Chandler grinned, squeezing her hand as she listed off places they could go to celebrate.

~.~March 2003~.~

Chandler opened the front door to his apartment, surprised to find Mary standing in the kitchen, arms crossed. Her being there when he got home wasn't completely odd, since she had a key, but her demeanor seemed to be anything but her happy, bubbly self as she stood there in a hoodie and jeans, arms crossed and short hair pulled back the best it could be for how short it was.

"You…okay?" Chandler asked slowly, setting his keys and briefcase on the counter. Mary shook her head, but didn't offer anything else. "Did I do something?" he asked slowly, unsure if he had done something to upset her. Mary again shook her head, this time sighing.

"I'm late," she whispered. "Like, really, really late," she continued, still in a whisper.

"Oh," Chandler said softly, moving over to her. "Did you-have you taken a test or anything?"

Mary shook her head. "I'm too scared to. I've been avoiding actually thinking about this for a couple of weeks, like if I thought about it, it would make it more real. If I avoided it, I could put off dealing with it. If I take a test, and it's positive," she trailed off, wiping the tears from her eyes with the bottom of her sleeves before they fell.

"It'll be okay," Chandler hugged her. "We'll figure it out…."

"I don't want to figure it out," Mary pulled back, shaking her head. "I don't want that. I didn't want this," she again wiped her eyes. "Not that it's bad, or that this is bad, just, none of this is what I wanted right now," she continued, choking back sobs. "I just-I think I need to go think right now," she whispered, staring at the floor.

"'Kay," Chandler whispered in reply, swallowing the knot in his throat.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Mary asked, wiping her eyes as she tried to pull herself together enough to leave. Chandler nodded, still not looking at her, and she paused for a moment, watching him, before walking out the door.

~.~

Chandler again opened the door to his apartment, this time not at all surprised to see Mary standing in his kitchen. He hadn't seen her since the night before, but she had told him she would be there when he got home from work tonight. She seemed to be in a bit of a better mood than the night before, so he took that, at least, as a good sign.

"Hey," he smiled as he closed the door.

"Hey," Mary replied. "So, I got two things that were very exciting today," Mary began, reaching into her right pocket. "One," she pulled out a tampon, and Chandler laughed.

"Always exciting…."

"And, two," she pulled a folded envelope out, handing it to him.

Chandler took the envelope, pulling out the contents. A Yale header and the word "congratulations" were the only things he saw coherently as his heart sank.

"You got in?!" he asked, trying to sound excited for her, since he really was proud of her, despite what he knew it meant.

Mary nodded, biting her lip. "Here's the thing," she began, holding back tears as she steadied her voice. "There's this part of me that can see myself with you. Forever. And, god, I wish I'd met you like five years later or something," she shook her head. "Because I can see that. I can. But," she took a deep shaky breath, "this is my dream," she motioned to the envelope. "I was offered this really great assistanceship, with the professor I wanted to do research with, and," she shrugged as she trailed off.

"And you're going," Chandler finished for her, voice barely audible, and Mary slowly nodded.

"We both said we didn't want a relationship for a reason," Mary shrugged, not sure what else to say to him, and Chandler nodded in agreement. Because they both knew this was it. Mary wasn't going to stay, and Chandler wasn't going to go with her. He had just gotten promoted at work and bought a condo. And they both knew he wasn't about to stop her. He had done the same thing two years earlier, and it would have been hypocritical for him to do anything else but just let her go.

"I really do love you," Mary continued in a whisper.

"I know. I love you, too," he whispered back. "You'll play the part of Dr. Johnson very well," he forced a smile, trying to blink back his tears.

They both knew that this was it. This was The End of their story. They were both still on the same page, the same paragraph, and they knew it was the end. Yes, they could stretch it out until she left in the fall, but it seemed to be a silent agreement that this was it. Why put off the inevitable heartache and make it harder by dragging it out?

Mary stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as she could, in a hug so warm that he had once thought only Joey was capable of hugging that warmly. "Thank you for being in my life," she whispered sincerely into his chest, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to stop the tears.

Chandler had to fight to choke back his own crying at that, returning her hug as he kissed the top of her head, whispering, "The pleasure was all mine."

~.~

Phew, that was exhausting! I've been writing this part in my head forever. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I have :) I just really love writing this fic—it's fun and different :)

Oh, and this is, way by far, the longest chapter I've ever written—twice as long as most of my chapters. Go me ;)

Reviews are always appreciated! I really love the long reviews I'm getting for this :)