A/N: I don't usually put an author's note at the beginning of a chapter, but I really want to apologize for the gap between updates. I've had a crazy few months between assignments, exams, scholarship applications and having my wisdom teeth removed. I also did a creative writing paper last semester which sucked a lot of my creative energies. And then when I did have time, I'd got out of the habit of writing and have struggled getting back into the zone. I've also been traumatised by a book series I've just finished (the Flynn series by Sophie Mckenzie which reminds me how grateful I am that Mondler are a couple with a happy ending). So I am very sorry, and have felt really bad about the gap. I started feeling guilty rather than happy when reviews arrived in my inbox), especially with the cliffy I left you with.

But hey, the next chapter is up! (And it's a long one). We finally get to see Chandler's reaction; I hope his freak-out lives up to your expectations. You might want to reread some previous chapter to refresh your memories of everything Monica and Chandler confided, though there is a sort-of recap within the story. And I promise there won't be such a long gap before the next update

X-X

Fuck.

Chandler gazed at the laptop screen, his whole body trembling.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

Cookie Addict was Monica? Monica was...Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god.

Breaths wrenched out of him in quick, jerky tugs, as all-encompassing horror rippled across his skin.

God please don't let this be happening.

Recollections of everything he'd confided in the emails tumbled through his mind. Secrets, embarrassments, pathetic ambitions he'd never admitted to anyone, dreams...

His dream woman.

A fresh wave of revulsion swept over Chandler, and he lurched up, pacing the room on shaky legs. His dream woman. The one he'd described in a humiliating detail to Cookie Addict. He'd described his dream woman...to his dream woman.

Are you kidding me?

Even with his brain racing around like Rachel at a spring sale, Chandler could appreciate the irony. Hell, if it was anyone else in this situation, he'd be quipping about the strings of fate and who says New York is an anonymous city. Instead he leaned against the kitchen counter with clenched fists. Yeah, when irony happens to you it's not so funny.

He hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to look at the blinking email in front of him.

God, this wasn't fair. He knew Monica would never think of him like that and Chandler didn't want to be like Ross, pining for a girl and bitching about her boyfriends. He and Monica were best friends and he wouldn't ever let his stupid...yearning ruin their friendship. He'd promised himself that years ago, when he'd first realized that ok, there was a 'What If' (What if we - what if she liked – what if, maybe I asked –) niggling him about Monica.

He'd told himself his feelings for Monica weren't worth bothering about, and buried them in the corner of his mind reserved for the more painful memories of his dad and bullies at school, and ignored them. If there was a single thing Chandler Bing could do well, it was live in denial and boy had he managed that with Monica. Sure, that time at the beach had been a moment of weakness, but it had reminded him of the pointless of hoping for 'something more' and let him move on. For years he'd slept with other women, fallen disastrously in love and watched Monica date guys with barely a flicker of hurt. He thought he'd got it sorted.

So a few months ago, after he and Kathy broke up, when his feelings rocketed from 'Hmm...Maybe' to 'Oh my god, smile at me forever', he hadn't let himself hope. He'd distracted himself. He'd flirted with women, reached out to a random person online, made himself interested in someone else. And it had worked!

That was the worst irony of all. That talking to Cookie Addict made him feel like...like he was getting over Monica. Like he could connect with another woman more than he connected with his agonizingly beautiful best friend. Every time he'd smirked at Cookie Addicts jokes or leapt up to read a new message or carefully typed another secret, he'd been happy because – for the first time – he believed someone other than Monica could make him happy. That Monica wasn't the only woman who understood him and clicked with him and made him feel things. There was hope.

Only there wasn't. Because his 'connection' and 'clickability', (Clickability? Was it a word? Yeah that's what you should be focusing on now Chandler) with this other person was utter crap. Apparently Monica was the only woman in all of America (hell, the whole world with internet coverage) he could connect with. He was incapable of finding another woman. She was it for him, his pre-destined, fate-driven soulmate shebang.

Except Fate kind of forgot that both sides have to feel something. Maybe it was having an-off day when it was organizing Chandler's future. Yeah that was it, Fate was up there, laughing at him and going "Oh you're trying to get over this woman? Oh, good, good...Hey. Do you know what would be cool? How about I throw her right back in? Yep, right there. Isn't that great? Oh, what fun we have."

Unable to take his internal ramblings, Chandler collapsed onto the stool, his guts trembling so much he thought he might be sick.

Monica was Cookie Addict. He didn't understand it. How could the woman he'd been talking to for over two months, be his best friend? How could they have not realized?

Running his hand through his hair, he stared down his open laptop. The email gazed back at him. This was insane. There must be one other woman in New York whose best friend had peed on her. If Cookie Addict really was Monica he'd have realized weeks ago! You can't exchange email after email, and not realize it's your neighbour-come-best-friend of almost 7 years! It was impossible.

Chandler sat up straighter, his guts unrolling a little. Exactly: Impossible. So he'd read through the emails, realize Cookie Addict was obviously not Monica and then kick himself for being so dumb.

Already feeling more upbeat, he yanked his laptop across the counter, wiggling the mouse to get it started.

'Cookie Addict Folder': Click.

Alrighty, Email 1. Chandler scanned the contents swiftly: 27 year old woman living in New York. (Well, that only included about sixth of the population of Manhattan.) Her favourite film was 'When Harry Met Sally'. He vaguely recalled watching that films with Monica and teasing her about her similarities to Sally...But still, it was really popular film! Like chick flick of the year! He couldn't jump to assumptions.

Shrugging away the foreboding feeling, he flicked to the next email.

Email 2: Cookie Addict talking about her therapist...

Back in College, he and Monica had bonded over therapy horror-stories. She'd laughed at his story of Nora Bing screwing her son's therapist on the couch, and returned with a story of how Judy Geller hijacked her own daughter's therapy session to complain about her. Chandler had been comforted that someone else had as depressing memories as him.

But that wasn't proof Cookie Addict and Monica were the same person! Everyone went to therapy these days. He couldn't jump to conclusions.

The rest of the email just talked about her favourite childhood movies and books. Monica had never mentioned them to him, so Chandler couldn't guess off that.

Onto Email 3: "Football is probably my favourite thing to play, though like your friends, I can get WAY too competitive!" Oh god, how could he have missed that?! It was only last Thanksgiving Monica had tackled him in front of that hot, Dutch chick.

She described her parents: Loving each other, loving her brother but not necessarily loving her...Chandler's stomach tightened again, and he skipped to her next email.

Email 4: More details about her Mom's criticism and emotional abuse...Sure, that had remindedhim of Monica, but he hadn't thought it was actually her. Far too many people had abusive parents, why should he have assumed the random woman was Monica?

But she'd mentioned her friends too..."Gives a whole new meaning to 'family' truthfully. My friends make a much better one than my parents ever did." That had exactly mirrored his feelings about their close-knit gang. But didn't everyone in New York feel like that?

Almost choking on his desperation, Chandler clicked on the next page.

Email 5: He smirked rereading their 'Screwed up Kids Union' idea. Hadn't he thought about how Monica could join in with that? Jeez Chandler... Cookie Addict wrote more about her friends...At least he knew how important the gang was to Monica.

She talked about how having super-strength and being 'freakishly strong'. Freakishly strong. He was the one who fricking coined that phrase! He'd been struggling to open a sauce jar, and Monica had grabbed it and casually ripped it open with barely a twist. Chandler gazed at her open-mouthed before quipping about it, and Monica proved her strength by punching his arm. Couldn't he remember his own words anymore?

His head aching, he flicked onto the next email, losing hope it would tell him something different.

Email 6: Oh god, it was so obvious it hurt now. All of Cookie Addicts coping methods and how she worked as a person: "I like logic and control and order and I try to appear put-together outside, because I'm such a mess inside....I'm more of an actions person than with the words... My coping methods vary. Control is a big one. And trying to be perfect...I've had to fight for everything in my life: Any smidgen of respect from my parents, how I look, my job, winning at a sport, even my friendships."

He KNEW all of that about Monica! He understood her and her neuroses inside out. Maybe she hadn't admitted it as honestly as 'Cooke Addict', but he understood her need to be perfect and in-control and everything. How the hell had he not realized?! Stupid, stupid, stupid.

She ended the email describing her dream guy. Chandler skipped over that part: If he reread it, he'd probably realize it was just a character profile of Richard or Pete.

Email 7: Oh, he remembered this one well. Mostly because he'd read it and then wanted to punch something. She'd been so sweet all the way through: Encouraging him that he could do more, promising their lives would balance out their previous crap, calling his dream girl list sweet, and saying he deserved his dream girl...Chandler's throat clenched. She had no idea what was going on. If she'd realized who he was talking about...Of course he didn't deserve Monica, he never had.

When he'd first read the email though, her story about being bullied in high school caught his attention. Back then he'd been pissed for Cookie Addict's sake and now, rereading the email, he was pissed for Monica's. God, high school girls were bitches. (Okay, the guys at his school weren't much better but still). How did Monica do it? How did she suffer through it all and still be so giving and generous? All through the emails, she'd supported and encouraged him about everything, telling him it was better to try and fail than not try, that he was worth it. Oh god, that was Monica all over.

Email 8: Confessing more of her insecurities. Comparing herself to her friends... "Both my best girlfriends are much more confident than I am. One was really spoiled and popular at school; she's got that gift of effortlessly pleasing everyone that I know I'll never have. The other one is so care-free and doesn't care what anyone thinks. I can't effortlessly please people, but I still care about pleasing them." That was Rachel and Phoebe summed up! How did he miss it? Then again, if he didn't realize Monica was writing, he'd never pick up anything about Rachel and Phoebe.

Then Cookie Addict – Monica – had talked about her ex-boyfriends. Again, Chandler skimmed over that section. Although Cookie Addict had admitted her previous relationships weren't right for her, now he knew she was describing Pete, and of course that big tree, rereading it was too painful. He already suffered Monica and the gang talking about Richard in real life, he didn't need his praises sung in writing too.

He scrolled down to the next section: Flaws for her dream guy. Yep let's, zoom through that too. He didn't want to read anything about Monica's dream guy. Hell, Chandler probably couldn't live up to her dream guy's flaws! He didn't need more rejection.

Finally, at the end...her dream life. Chandler smiled softly at that, rereading through her descriptions of her white picket fence future with the kids and husband and dog. That future was what Monica was meant for, and he knew she'd get it. His chest twisted a little, as he remembered reading it when she was just Cookie Addict. For a flash – just a tiny, instant flash – he'd imagined that future with the two of them. Him and the faceless, Cookie-named woman decorating a house together, and bringing new babies home, him walking through the door and kissing her neck from behind every night...The picture vanished a second later, but it was the first time Chandler had imagined that future where the woman he was kissing, wasn't the brunette across the hall.

Chest twisting even more, Chandler clicked onwards.

Email 9: "But hey, my screwed up-ness meant we've bonded and got to know each other, so maybe it's worth it " Chandler reread the line over and over, mixed emotions ricocheting off the insides of his skull. Knowing that she thought so highly of him was incredible. In fact when he'd first read that email, he hadn't stopped grinning all day. But now...now the line was just a reminder of how disappointed Monica would be if she discovered the truth. That this apparently amazing guy was just her pathetic best friend. He tugged harshly at his short hair, forcing himself to focus on the screen.

More advice from Cookie Addict, telling him he wasn't the one-night stand type, (hadn't Monica herself told him that, when he first slept with Aurora?). Encouragement to stop being so insecure: "Start believing that the next person you fall for will love you completely and never ever break up with you. Because it will happen." Oh dear god the irony, Chandler twisted his lips, gripping the mouse tighter under his fingers.

She'd complimented his list of 'Ideal Woman Flaws'...complimented HIM: "Can I just say, having heard all of that and guessing a lot of your childhood was like that, that I think you're amazing? To have got through that much neglect without becoming mean and bitter and horrible, and having enough to give to people to make friends and comfort some random woman online...you're amazing." Chandler didn't even try to bask in his former excitement at that comment. All he could imagine was Monica's reaction if she realized who Speaking Sarcasm was.

Then her piano recital story...God he hated Judy Geller. Frequently after Ross and Monica's parents visited, he'd find Monica collapsed on the couch, hopelessly fragile and half broken. It had got to the point where he'd hear them leave her apartment and then dash across the hall, with beers already in his hand. She'd do the same with ice cream tubs, whenever his Mom (rarely) called. They'd exchanged hundreds of memories over the years, but the piano recital was one story she'd never mentioned before, and god he was so fucking angry with those despicable people. Shaking off his anger, he realized he'd reached her last message.

Email 20:More about her best friend who made guys chase her, and then dumped them. (Rachel! His mind shouted. So obviously Rachel!)

Talking about how she'd never cheated on anyone or helped anyone cheat...Of course she hadn't, of all of them Monica was the only one who never came close. Phoebe and Joey were a lot more relaxed about dating rules, Ross had his whole 'We Were On A Break' situation. Rachel, Chandler knew had been...looser...with her commitment to boyfriends in the past, she'd slept with Barry while he was engaged to Mindy and kissed Ross while he was dating Bonnie and Julie. As for his own track record...Chandler winced at the memory of his kiss with Kathy. He wasn't innocent. But Monica? Monica just didn't go there. Full stop.

The next part: Her belief in soulmates. Normally Chandler hated the term, it sounded so girly but somehow Cookie Addict – Monica – made it make sense. "I think we make our own soulmates by working at our relationships." Damn her!

Chandler slammed the laptop shut, bile rising in his throat. Leaping up, he ran to the bathroom and – the stench wrenching tears from his eyes – vomited into his toilet.

Cooke Addict was Monica. He couldn't avoid it. The sweet, funny, understanding woman he'd obsessed about over the internet was the same sweet, funny, understanding woman he's obsessed about across the hall. Now, he had to deal with it.

He drew his knees to his chest, folding his arms up and burying his face in them. His pulse was racing, hammering through every inch of him, his gut still trembling.

The trembling turned into clenching, as he thought of something else.

Did Monica know?

Seeing how obvious their emails were...she could easily have worked out Speaking Sarcasm was him. Had she been laughing the whole time? Playing with him?

No. He refused to follow that thought. Monica wouldn't do that, she wasn't the type to find it funny. Rachel or Phoebe maybe...but never Monica. If she'd realized, she would have been banging on his door with the news a minute later. She probably would have baked cookies, brought over beer, and they would have spent the night laughing over the coincidence and how blind they'd been. He'd have fallen asleep, with his panging disappointment sugar-coated by her presence.

But she hadn't. She hadn't hinted anything for the past three months. Chandler had noticed she'd looked slightly happier, but as part of his trying-to-fucking-get-over-her plan, he hadn't thought about it much. He'd been scared she'd found a new guy, and in his new miserable intense-crush stage, he couldn't stand that.

And she had found a guy. Except it wasn't a new boyfriends it was a mysterious internet guy. And it wasn't a mysterious internet guy, it was her pathetic best friend...

You're going insane. He told himself wearily. Still, the important thing was that she didn't know. She didn't know that the guy she admired and trusted and confided in, was actually him. Boring, awkward, pathetic across-the-hall Chandler. He sighed shudderingly, leaning against his toilet and closing his eyes. God, she'd be so disappointed.

"Chandler?"

Chandler jolted up, whipping his head up to stare at the voice. Monica was standing in the bathroom doorway, her blue eyes clouded with worry.

"H-hey Mon."

That's Cookie Addict, right there. Cookie Addict is standing right there. It's her. Everything he'd wanted to say to his internet friend, flooded his mind. 'Thank you' 'You understand me better than almost anyone.' 'How do you know exactly how to make me feel better?' 'You give the best advice I've ever heard' 'Your parents suck and I'm sorry.' '...Do you think you could feel the same about me, the way I feel about you?' 'Could all of this lead to more...?'

"Chandler." Monica repeated, looking even more concerned. "Are you ok?"

"I – I – "

"It smells like you've been sick."

"Um, yeah." Chandler finally croaked out, clutching harder at the toilet. "Probably because I have been."

She raised one eyebrow at him."

"Um, I – I think I uh, ate something weird, it was probably Joey's fault, he can eat things normal humans struggle with and forgets that not all of us can survive and..."

He rambled a little, avoiding Monica's sympathetic gaze. Even within his tangled panic, he half expected her to whip out a scrubbing brush and attack the reeking toilet. But then Monica always surprised him.

"You poor thing," she said gently, kneeling down beside him. She pulled him into a hug and automatically Chandler leaned into it, snaking his arms around her waist. Okay, she was being caring Monica, not cleaning-queen Monica.

Briefly, he forgot about the reason he'd thrown up in the first place and the wrenching in his gut. She was so warm and smelt so good, that he just wanted to bury his face in her hair and stay there...

The revelations of the past hour coursed over him in an icy mess, and he jerked away from her embrace, falling backwards onto his haunches. Monica stared down at him, her eyes crinkling with worry.

"Chandler? What's wrong – "

"I uh, I have to go." He said, dragging himself up by the edge of the toilet. (Monica winced as he did so).

"Where?" Monica's frown deepened, as she rose up to stand beside him. "Chandler you really don't look good, maybe you should go to bed. I could bring you some soup or toast if you like, though maybe not if you've just been sick. Maybe just some water or a flannel if you're cold or –" She reached out to touch his shoulder, and Chandler twitched unable to stand the contact.

"No!" He yelped, horribly aware of how squeaky his voice was. "No! No I'm great! Fantastic. Spectacular! I just uh, have a um, work thing to get to!"

She tilted her head on one side. "A work thing?" Monica asked sceptically. "You?"

"Yep!" He bobbed his up and down, backing towards the door. "Super important. Mega-urgent. Must rush."

"But –"

"It's ok!" He flailed his hands. "Clean the toilet. I know you want to."

She bit her lip, glancing at the mess. "I'm not sure if..."

"Bye Mon!"

X-X

Twenty minutes late Chandler was crammed in the seedy corner of a bar, staring at his beer. Scotch on the rocks with a twist: Monica's favourite drink. Well, if he was going to do the whole pining thing, he may as well do it properly.

He chugged down a gulp and rasped, trying to think clearly. Okay what were his options? What the hell was he meant to do from here?

Option 1. He could do what any upstanding, sensible, put-together guy would do: Tell her. Come clean, laugh about it, move on.

Except he'd never been an upstanding, sensible or put-together guy. His last email, ridden with descriptions of his 'dream girl' flashed through his mind, and he gripped his drink. No. No. Not an option. She'd finally know how he felt and their friendship would be destroyed and awkward forever. He'd already lost Cookie Addict, he couldn't lose Monica as well.

Option 2. Email Monica as Speaking Sarcasm and cancel their meeting. Say he wasn't ready and ask if they could wait. Then further down the line, mention he was moving to...to...Yemen! And would be out of internet contact until they'd found a renewable source of energy. That worked with Janice...

But could he do it? Could he lie to her, even in email? Hell, could he even write an email to her now, knowing she was reading it across the hall. He swallowed, imagining trying to type out every line, worrying Monica would realize it was him. He couldn't do it.

So Option 3. Stop emailing completely. Delete Cookie Addicts email address. Cut contact. Don't turn up to their meeting. Monica would get over it, how important could her weird email buddy be to her anyway?

Probably about as important as Cookie Addict was to him.

Chandler ignored that thought and chugged down the rest of his beer, trying to choke the lump blocking his throat. He slammed the empty glass on the table, and wiped his hand across his eyes, gesturing to the waiter for another drink. Decision made. He'd end it all now and that was it.

Monica would get over it, and so would he.