A/N: Thank you guys for reviewing the previous chapter!

I don't know whether anyone's still reading this, but I love this series too much to leave it unfinished. I am gonna continue this, and hopefully, it'll be as well received by you guys as 'Forever and a Day'.

This chapter is M-rated. Definitely M-rated.

I've delved deeper into the M-rated realms than I'd usually dare to, so reviews for this chapter are very crucial for me (I am kinda new at writing super-romantic stuffs, and I'd love to know whether I could try it out some other time, too, or it is like 'No! Don't you ever try this again!'). Well, I guess this also serves as a warning: If you're not comfortable reading such contents, then please skip this chapter.

It covers the events before, during and a little after 'TOW Phoebe hates PBS'.

Yet again, it's quite long.

That Thing Called Love

Chapter 8

Whenever she was in his arms, she felt safe and secure. They felt strong and gentle around her. She'd missed this. She'd missed being with a man. But this was different. The man was her best friend. That made it different. That made it special.

She opened her eyes reluctantly and glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 5:03. Rachel wouldn't be up before 6:30. That meant a good hour more of sleep next to him. Or she could do something else with him that was way better than sleep.

Sex with him was more satisfying and fulfilling than Monica could ever remember sex being. Not that Richard and Pete had been bad in bed, but with Chandler, it was something more. Maybe it was the way he kissed her. Soft feathery kisses followed by long, deep ones that made her feel drunk. Or it was the way he looked into her eyes when they made love. She could not point out one single thing that made it different. It was a million little things, the nuances of which reinforced the fact that they indeed weren't 'goofing around'. This was getting pretty serious pretty fast.

She felt him stir, the warmth of his breath shifting from her nape to her shoulder. She smiled when she felt his lips on her shoulder, inching their way down her arm. She turned around in his arms, and brushed her lips against his closed eyelids, watching him as he smiled that slow, content smile that was reserved for only during their 'alone' moments. "Good morning." She smiled at him as he opened his eyes.

"Good mornin'," he smiled back, kissing her softly on the lips. He pulled back from the kiss, gazing at her. "How many shifts do you have today?"

"Two." She closed her eyes, knowing that it'd be another fifteen hours before she could lie in his arms again. "I'll be home early this evening," she answered the question that she knew was coming next.

"Yeah? Then I could come home early, too." He kissed her jaw line, his lips traveling up to her earlobe. "We can make up for the lost time," he said, referring to the fact that they hadn't slept together for a few days until the previous night, since she had been on her period.

"I'll look forward to it," she said softly, as he drew back.

He turned to look at the clock. "You know, we still have like an hour till you have to get back to your place. Any bright ideas as to what we could do within that time?" Trailing kisses from her chin to the hollow of her throat, it was pretty clear that he had an idea of his own.

"We could clean your living room," she whispered, leaning her head to one side as he kissed the side of her neck, his hands moving along her body with their own will. 'Cleaning the living room' was the last thing on her mind.

"Or?" His hand tantalizingly close to her breasts, his lips brushing across her collarbone, he smiled against her skin as she sighed his name.

"We could play a round of scrabble." Feeling his arousal against her thigh, she brushed her hand along the length of him, as he sucked in his breath. Two could play at this game. "Everything alright, Mr. Bing?" she murmured against his hair, her fingers combing their way through it. "Or should I say Mr. Big?"

He chuckled as he propped himself on his elbow to look at her. "That would definitely be good for my ego," he nodded as she snaked her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her for a kiss.

He kissed her softly at first, and then with growing urgency. His tongue flicked gently across her pursed lips, silently requesting her to part her lips for him, which she did instantly. She moaned softly into the kiss when she felt his hand cup her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple. Grabbing his shoulders, she rolled onto her back, pulling him on top of her.

He settled between her thighs, kissing her harder as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Suddenly he drew back, breaking the kiss, looking at her momentarily disoriented. She groaned with impatience, opening her eyes, frowning at him. His expression quickly cleared as his brain finally figured out why he'd stopped doing whatever he had been doing. "Condom," he whispered breathlessly, blindly reaching for one on the nightstand. She nodded her understanding, mentally scolding herself for forgetting it in the first place. The probability that something could happen was less now, but better safe than sorry.

"It'd be hard to keep it a secret if, you know, something happens." He smiled nervously, as he pulled back from her to roll the condom on himself. Smiling as he moved on top of her again, he brushed his lips across her nipple, her moan still soft, and her brain barely aware of Joey's presence on the other side of the wall. "Still wanna clean the living room?" he whispered, moving between her legs, positioning himself.

"God, no." She shook her head, her eyes drifting shut as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of her for a kiss. He entered her slowly, relishing the feeling of her warmth enveloping him, both of them sighing in unison.

They'd done this forty six times now – he'd kept count – but it felt as exciting, as new and as right as it'd felt in London. Some friends they were.

The moment they become one, everything else became a blur. All that mattered was each other.

"Mon…" he whispered, slightly quickening the pace that he'd set, pecking her lips.

She met his thrusts as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him. It was the same look that was there every time they made love. His eyes soft and bluer than ever, gazing into hers, his face revealing pleasure and adoration for her, along with another emotion that she couldn't quite place. She lifted their entwined hands and traced his features with her forefinger.

This look in his eyes was something that wanted through the rest of her life. The second the thought entered her mind, she reprimanded herself. This, despite the fact that they weren't messing around, was something that they were yet to discuss. They were still somewhere between 'friendship' and 'relationship', but with each night that she spent in his arms, they were teetering closer to 'relationship'. Maybe he would freak out again on realizing it himself, but she wasn't worried. She had always been good at handling his Chandlerisms. Besides, she knew he was in this as much as she was, both physically and emotionally.

Both attuned to the other's needs, she could feel the heat originating from deep within her, their bodies rising on a crescendo until that moment, that moment when nothing else mattered but the feeling of utter contentedness and immense affection for the person in their arms.

No wonder they call it 'lovemaking', she mused, once again finding herself falling for him, but too sated to care.

Slowly regaining his breath, he lifted his head from the crook of her neck, looking into her eyes as he leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. She broke their hands apart to frame his face, tilting his chin to kiss him on the lips softly. He pulled back a few seconds later, leaning his forehead against hers.

A warm afterglow spreading through her, she smirked as she whispered "I am definitely looking forward to this evening."

~.~

Scented candles – check. Dimmed lights – check. Perfectly made bed with new sheets – check. Wineglasses – check. Strawberries – check. Emergency condoms – check.

The only missing thing was Chandler. He'd told her that he'd be with her before five and now, a little after five, he was yet to arrive. "A bottle of champagne, a romantic evening in bed, how does that sound?" he'd asked her that morning, watching her as she'd slipped into her cream satin nightdress that he loved on her. Pulling the robe on and tying the sash loosely around her front, she'd leaned in and kissed him. "Sounds perfect." She'd walked out of his room, smiling lightly, knowing that he was watching her walk away with the same light smile.

Now, she sighed, wondering for the umpteenth time as to where he was. Suddenly feeling brazen and bold that evening, the tips from Cosmo helping her, she'd uncinched her black robe and pulled it apart, exposing just the perfect amount of flesh that would intrigue him and entice him. Not that he would require any intrigue or enticement. She smiled, a blush creeping up her face, as she remembered the events from that morning.

She heard the apartment door open, a smile already spreading across her face, she placed her hands above her head, which caused the robe to open up further. As he knocked on the door, she called out in the most sultry voice that she could muster "Come in... I've been waiting for you."

She waited for him to enter, wondering why he'd knocked in the first place, only to see that it was Rachel and not Chandler who'd entered her bedroom. Rachel entered, going through the mail in her hand, wanting to ask Monica about something, but as she looked at her friend's posture on the bed, it was too late for Monica to do any damage control. You've gotta be kidding me.

Rachel screamed out in horror, running out of the room as fast as she could. Monica pulled the robe close around her, assured that her heart would explode if it kept beating at that rate.

On convincing Rachel that it was the non-threatening-(and non-existent)-Ray-Liotta-looking-cute-waiter-guy (god knows who that is) for whom she'd been waiting, she prayed to Heaven that Chandler wouldn't come when Rachel was still there. "I want every little detail…" Rachel told her excitedly. Why? Why did she have to come home early?

Following Rachel, Joey and Ross entered, much to her relief, but it didn't last long. Chandler entered happily, carrying a bottle of champagne, oblivious to the three extra beings in the living room. On seeing them, he was visibly shocked, and came up with "I am so glad you guys are all here! My office finally got wrinkle-free fax paper!", in order to explain the champagne.

And he called her a bad liar.

~.~

Rachel, disappointed that the non-threatening-Ray-Liotta hadn't turned up, had left for the coffeehouse along with Ross, within which time Monica had changed out of her robe.

Phoebe, who'd joined them later, was having a conversation with Joey, enjoying the champagne, their champagne, when Chandler sidled up next to Monica in the kitchen. "Sorry," he whispered, looking guilty.

She glared at him. "What the hell took you so long? Do you have any idea how hard it was for me explain to Rachel the reason behind my position on the bed?" she hissed. On seeing his dreamy look, probably because he was imagining her in the position (and Rachel along with her), her elbow made contact with his ribs.

He winced in pain, whispering again. "Sorry! I tried to come as fast as I could, but I had to get the champagne and all, and how was I supposed to know that she'd be home early, too?" He looked at her with an exaggerated 'I am sorry' look, smiling widely as she finally nodded, forgiving him. "So, I hear something about a Ray Liotta-looking cute waiter guy?" He smirked at her.

She turned towards him, and countered back without missing a beat. "I hear that your office got wrinkle-free fax paper?"

He smiled at her sheepishly. "I couldn't think of anything else."

She smiled back in spite of herself. "And I couldn't think of anything else, either," she replied as she turned back to wash the coffee mugs.

A wave of comforting warmth washed through him when he saw her frown with concentration as she placed the mugs on the shelf, according to the numbers that they bore on the bottom. Some things comfort you just because they are a constant. Just because they never change. And her quirkiness such as this was one such thing.

"So tonight, your place or mine?" he asked her, once she'd rechecked the arrangement.

She looked at him, thinking his question through. They seldom spent the night at her place. Two reasons for it: Rachel cannot be fooled as easily as Joey. And she didn't trust Chandler's sneaking around abilities.

"Are you sure you can come here without Rachel noticing?" She looked at him cynically.

"Yeah, just lend me your invisibility cloak," he replied sarcastically. "Would you just trust me for once?"

"OK. OK. Y'know what, it's gonna be my place tonight. I trust you." She smiled at him. "You better don't be late again," she whispered, leaning in, her eyes shining.

He turned and checked whether either Phoebe or Joey was looking at them and turned back again when he saw that they weren't. He placed his hand on her cheek and brushed his lips softly against hers. "I won't be late. I promise," he replied, barely loud enough for her to hear, dropping his hand from her face, smiling at her as he left the apartment.

She stared at the closed door longingly, knowing that this feeling in the pit of her stomach would be her doom, if he didn't feel it, too.

~.~

"Mon, tell me about this secret waiter guy!" Rachel looked at her wide-eyed with excitement. They'd had their dinner and the guys had returned to their apartment. She glanced at the clock. Nine thirty. Three more hours till Chandler would be here. She had no idea as to how much of Rachel's 'tell me every little detail' session that she'd be able to take without contradicting herself. She could swear that Rachel's ears had perked up, waiting to hear some juicy detail. It always perked up when Rachel got even a whiff of a potential gossip.

"There's nothing to tell, really." She shrugged uncomfortably, picking at a thread on the couch.

"Oh, come on! You've gotta give me something more than that!" Rachel exclaimed, drawing herself closer to Monica. "Is he cute? I mean, if he's a Ray Liotta look-alike, he's obviously cute, but I didn't get a good enough look at him the other day. So, what's he like?" She rattled off, looking at Monica curiously.

"Yeah, he's cute." She nodded, smiling. On Rachel's expectant look, she added "He has the bluest eyes, ever." She could feel that stupid grin, the one that made an appearance whenever she thought about him, spread across her face. She realized at that moment that, if at all their visit to London did anyone any good, it was this. She and Chandler owed so much to London.

Rachel grinned back, happy for her friend. "How long have you guys been going out?"

"A month," she smiled, hoping that the questionnaire would come to an end after a couple more questions.

"A month? Wow, that's almost since London!" Rachel patted her leg, as if congratulating her on a great achievement. "So, how is he in bed?" She raised her eyebrows, lowering her voice.

That was always the most important question in all these 'so tell me about this guy' conversations. Actually, it was the whole point of the conversation. It signaled that the discussion was about to end, and the answer that you gave either earned the guy some respect, or it earned you some sympathy. Only truth was expected and accepted here.

She took a deep breath and answered the final question truthfully. "He's the best sex I've ever had."

~.~

"I don't care! I wanna meet this guy who's the best sex she ever had!" The moment Rachel said it, Monica resisted the urge to slap her forehead. I knew I shouldn't have told her that.

You don't tell a guy that. You simply don't. Especially if the guy is Chandler. Being happy on hearing it was one thing, but gloating over it was totally another. Knowing Chandler, she knew which reaction he'd choose, and she wasn't surprised when he slapped the paper down, looking at Rachel elatedly.

"Really! That's what you heard?" His face practically pink with glee, he asked Rachel, and turned towards Monica with the same expression before Rachel could answer. "You said that?"

She narrowed her eyes, looking at him suspiciously. "I might have said that." She hoped he'd realize that Rachel was still with them and act cool, but instead, he laughed like he'd heard the funniest joke in the world. Oh, god. Couldn't you brag about it later? Do you really have to do it now? And why the hell are you laughing?

She leaned in and slapped his arm lightly. "Why is that so funny?"

"Because I am happy for him!" He shrugged, justifying his reaction. He smacked her leg playfully with the rolled newspaper. "And you, you luck dog!"

Hmm… It doesn't appear like you're gonna get anything to gloat about tonight.

~.~

"Y'know what I don't get? Why would Chandler be so happy for some guy on hearing that he's the best sex you've ever had?" Rachel frowned in confusion, as Monica entered their apartment after giving Chandler a rendition of his 'happy dance'.

He'd danced, jumping onto the coffee table. No wonder Rachel was confused.

"Got me." Monica shrugged nonchalantly as she pulled out the Williams Sonoma catalog from one of the cupboards in the kitchen, placing it on the coffee table so that it'd be the first thing Chandler would see upon entering the living room.

"Maybe he's just happy for her." Phoebe grabbed some chips from the bowl and started to munch on it, but suddenly looked at them wide eyed like she'd discovered something. "Hey, maybe that's a selfless good deed!"

Rachel shook her head slowly, thinking it through. "Nah… I don't think so, Pheebs. It's not a deed. I mean, he didn't do anything to improve Monica's love life."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Phoebe returned to her chips, disappointed. "Man, I've got to find a selfless good deed!" she muttered to herself.

Monica sat staring at Rachel's bedroom door, biting her cheeks, trying not to smile.

There's so much you guys don't know.

~.~

"Yes, it really does cost that much. Maybe next time your duck can puke in something from Pottery Barn," she replied as he looked up at her from the catalog, in shock.

He looked down at the cost of the broiling pan again, his eyes wide with disbelief. $380 for a pan? No one would even buy me at that price. He glanced up at Monica. Maybe she will. After all, I am the fire of her loins .He frowned at what he'd just thought. Fire of her loins? Dude, seriously? He looked at her again. Or maybe she won't.

She was still pretty mad at him. If not for anything else, at least for his dance. But what she didn't understand was, it meant to him a lot that he was able to satisfy her needs in the bedroom. Not just satisfy, but from what Rachel had said, even surpass her expectations.

He'd never been very confident in that department, and he was sure that there was a reason behind his self-doubt. The number of women in his life was a testimony to it.

Maybe he'd crossed a line by comparing himself with Richard, damn that moustached bastard, but he knew that this minor glitch can be rectified by him, if he made her see his point.

"Will Chandler have sex tonight?" Monica consulted the magic 8-ball that she'd grabbed from Ross. "Don't count on it." She returned it to Ross and shrugged. "Seems like it works to me."

Oh great, even the magic 8-ball is not in my favor.

~.~

"When I'm with you, and when we're together, OH…MY…GOD." From seeing the look on his face as he'd said it, she knew he was telling her the truth. He meant each and every word.

They'd contemplated having sex in an airplane bathroom, so when he'd suggested the Central Perk storage closet, she'd found it appealing and even exciting to a certain extent. At any rate, it was better than his first suggestion – her balcony.

Now, pinned between the wall of the storage closet and him for the second time that day, she knew she felt the same way towards him. Whenever they were together, it was indeed Oh…My…God.

She gasped, trying to catch her breath, her cheek resting against the side of his head, her hands clasped tightly around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist.

His breath coming in short, quick gasps, he slightly pulled away from her to look at her, his hands still supporting her weight. "Every time," he kissed her lips softly, "Every time we make love, it takes my breath away," he whispered, pecking her lips again.

He looked into her eyes, feeling a strange sense of fulfillment, and he saw something flicker in her eyes as she whispered back "It takes my breath away, too."

~.~.~

A/N: Well, IMO, a season 5 Mondler story will be incomplete without some Mondler lovin' :)

Reviews and constructive criticism for this chapter are welcome! Although I so wanna continue this story, there'd be no point in me doing so if no one's reading. So, anybody out there still reading this?

And another important thing, updates from me will no longer be as frequent as it used to be, since I've got some personal issues that I need to deal with right now. So I apologize in advance for any delay in updating 'Forever and a Day'. Please don't expect it to be updated anytime before the next two weeks.