A/N: I know, I know, I'm getting antsy for the big reveal too. But it's still four weeks and two rather important episodes to go and I really can't bring myself to rush this now. So bear with me a little longer – after all, it can't be much more than, say, six chapters until the big event. Well, seven. Ish. Okay, eight. I think.

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There weren't many things Monica liked about January – usually it was a cold, dark and dreary time, the desolate aftermath after the big holidays – but one of those few things was that everyone had enough time on work days to meet in Central Perk just after noon for a long lunch break or an early coffee break. It was the time when all the big companies made their inventories which meant that Chandler as well as Rachel hadn't much to do at work, and, since most people did not have a lot of money left to spend on massages and dinners, she and Phoebe too had more time on their hands. Joey was still recuperating from the shock of his thirtieth birthday – they all were in fact – and in no mood to actively pursue work that didn't drop into his lap by itself, and Ross was still on sabbatical. Which meant still out of work. Still trying to get over the fact that his life refused to be the way he thought it should be and getting whinier about it with every day something went wrong. Which was pretty much every day. Since it hadn't even occurred to him to tell their parents about it, and the five of them as well as Carol had become quite adept to dodge him whenever another outburst loomed, there could not be that many people left that could bear to listen to his woes. But it also meant that he was generally free and they all could meet in Central Perk, where Gunther kept the big couch free for them almost as a habit.

Chandler and Phoebe were already there when she arrived and she was glad to see that Phoebe had claimed the big chair for herself, since it meant that she could sit next to Chandler on the big couch. She wished they could have greeted each other properly instead of just a quick smile and a short but hot look, but it couldn't be helped.

"Oh hey, there you are! Chandler was just telling me about his office party. Are you really going with him?"

"Sure, why not? It's a party. I haven't been on a party since, well – "

"New Year?"

"I mean a party where I was a guest not the host."

"Oh. Okay, but a party at Chandler's workplace! I couldn't do it."

"Why? What's wrong with Chandler's workplace?"

"Nothing much, but when I worked there I always felt like most of the people there were dead inside. Or predators. No offense."

"None taken." Chandler said wryly. "I agree with you. They're all a bunch of zombies."

"Oh god. You didn't tell me it was a party for zombies! But there'll be free alcohol, right?"

"God, yes, lots of it, otherwise they'd all remain in their graves."

"Then I'll take the chance" she said smiling and casually brushing her hand over his knee. He smiled back and let his arm rest on the back of the couch, so his hand ended up just over her head. When Phoebe bent forward to get her coffee, she felt him touching her hair. But only for a second, then he withdrew it hurriedly when Rachel and Joey entered, seemingly in the middle of an argument. She couldn't quite make out what it was about, something about Joey not trying as hard as he could if he only wanted to according to Rachel, and it seemed she even tried to bribe him with a cupcake. They chose to sit at the little side table instead of on the couch for which she was grateful. Sitting next to Joey while he devoured his cupcake was always perilous at best. Having to watch him was bad enough.

And then Ross stormed in, as always radiating hurt and anger, and barely acknowledging their hellos and heys, ordering a scone of all things at the counter instead.

"Wanna hear some good news?" he asked with a sneer.

"Is somebody else gonna give it to us?" Chandler asked carefully. "Because you certainly don't seem like you have any …"

"No, no, I do. Someone I know is getting married! Yeah! And weddings are happy occasions! Oh, by-the-by, it's my ex-wife Emily!"

Oh no. For once she had to admit that Ross' anger was justified. Emily getting engaged again, and so soon after the wedding? After four months?

Seventeen weeks, she added in her mind almost automatically. Seventeen weeks since London. In two days we will have been together for seventeen weeks …

Ross took the scone from Gunther, put it on the table and started to pound it to bits with his fist in a fit of seemingly white-hot seething rage.

"STUPID BRITISH SNACK FOOD!"

She sensed Chandler tensing for a moment and taking a deep breath. His voice however remained quite calm.

"Did they teach you that in your anger management class?"

Well, better the scone than – someone else. She made a mental note to avoid all British food in the near future, at least when Ross was present. Pity about muffins though. Were they even British?

Of course Phoebe offered some advice that managed to at least sound helpful. "Hey, you know what might help you deal with it? Think of it this way, you and Emily are in the past and you can't be mad about the past. So are you still mad about the Louisiana Purchase?"

Well, at least she had a point with its being in the past. She hoped that Ross would let at least that part sink in, as he dropped on the couch sullenly. And now Joey started to eye the smashed scone hopefully.

"Anybody gonna eat that?"

"Ugh! Joey!"

"What? Gunther'll only throw it away!" Joey scooped up a piece of the flattened scone and pushed it into his mouth, ignoring their protests. But as he started chewing his face suddenly changed.

"Ugh – what's that taste?" He grabbed the plate from Rachel and spit the piece of half-chewed scone on it. Monica pressed her face against Chandler's chest without thinking, and when she realized what she had done, she didn't care. Chandler seemed to think the same, since he confined himself to pat her awkwardly on the back.

"Ew, Joey, what is it?"

"I don't know, tastes like – like detergent?"

Monica tried to sit up and compose herself, avoiding to meet Chandler's eyes.

"Ross, did you wash your hands before you came here? With detergent maybe?"

"I had to, there was duck shit on the counter!"

It didn't bear thinking. "Um, you know what – I think I'll head off to work early today." And as she had hoped, Chandler took her cue and got to his feet.

"Yeah, me too, can't keep the zombies waiting!"

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Until the buttslapper turned up, Monica was actually enjoying herself. Really, what was not to enjoy? The place looked really nice, with a festive atmosphere, muted but pleasant music, they were all dressed up – she in her black and blue cocktail dress that made her feel so cool and elegant, and Chandler in that smart suit and the tie with blue flowers on it that brought out his eyes. There was plenty to drink and so far none of the people there had tried kill and eat them. In fact no one here had any reason to think it strange that they were a couple, so they could relax and – just be exactly that.

It felt really strange. Exhilarating and wonderful, and very strange.

"Look at us all dressed up for the big office party! By the way, what are we celebrating?"

"Oh, we had a lot of liquor left over from the Christmas party" Chandler replied casually and Monica remembered with a pang that he had been at that party when she had been away at her parents'. Both of them away from each other, in their own separate worlds. At least they could share this now.

"I think this is so cool because none of our friends are here and we can be a real couple. We don't have to hide."

Chandler's grin broadened. "I know! I can do this ..." and he took her hand and drew her closer to his side, into his personal space. She tightened her fingers around his and nestled against him, claiming him for her own for all to see.

"Ooh, and I can do this." She raised herself on her toes and kissed him lightly on the cheek, breathing in his aftershave and feeling his warmth, the soft skin under the minute stubble. He turned a little more towards her, leaning in, and suddenly they were close, very close to each other, almost touching, merging …

"We can't do that!" They said it together, almost as one and she tore herself away from him with an effort. All of a sudden she longed for the party to be over, so she could get close to him again, this time in a quiet secluded place where they could be alone and she could rip that suit off him at her leisure. Maybe if they sneaked off to his office later and did it on his desk? Again?

And then that tall thin guy with the hungry expression on his cadaverous face approached them and unceremoniously whacked Chandler on his ass.

"Hey BING!" Chandler jumped about a foot in the air, but otherwise appeared quite unfazed, even breaking out in a rather weird braying laughter, which disconcerted her even more. He had also managed not to spill his drink. And now the buttslapper turned to her.

"Whoa-whoa-whoa! Who's the pretty lady and what the hell is she doing with you?"

"I ask myself that very question, sir ..." Chandler was grinning so hard, she thought his face muscles had frozen. "Uh, this is Monica. This is my boss, Doug. Doug this is Monica."

Doug. His boss Doug. Doug the buttslapper. The one Chandler had complained so bitterly about two years ago, when it turned out that his new boss loved to motivate – or even reward - his subordinates by slapping them on their butts. He had even borrowed lotion from her, not that it had helped much. Now it made sense – if a weird one, and she tried her best not to let her surprise show. Or how much the guy already creeped her out. "Hi, nice to meet you!"

The buttslapper grinned perfunctorily and produced a tall woman in a severe blue suit from behind him, almost as if conjuring her out of thin air.

"Hi! And this is my wife Kara." Whoa, how could a creep like that actually be married to such a nice looking lady?

"Nice to meet you Monica." And the nice looking lady smiled widely, gathering momentum and – dang it, if she too didn't treat Chandler's posterior to a resounding slap. "Bing!" It raised her hackles, all the more because Chandler only grinned wryly, hardly twitching even. What was wrong with these people? And more important, with Chandler?

"Say uh, Bing, did you hear about the new law firm we got working for us?"

"No, sir?"

"Yeah, Dickem, Stickem and Run." While Mr and Mrs Creepy almost went into convulsions about his joke, Chandler chimed in with more of those weird braying sounds that she hadn't even known he was capable of producing. Also she didn't know how much more she could take of this. But to her profound relief the buttslapper couple now seemed done with them. She had almost begun to fear that she too would be required to offer her butt up for slapping, but apparently the courtesy didn't stretch to complete strangers.

"Come on honey, let's go drink our body weight." And they walked off, leaving them alone. Monica heaved a sigh of relief.

"What was that?!"

"What?" She hated that he seemed genuinely surprised by her question.

"That noise you just made?"

"Oh, that was my work laugh." He said it in quite an offhand manner too, and it suddenly dawned on her that this actually seemed normal to him. This place, these people, those weird rituals – it all seemed strange to her, outlandish even, but he had lived with it for years – for as long as he had lived next door to her actually. Lived with it and somehow survived.

"Really? Your work laugh?" And yet it made a sort of weird sense. How much stranger would it have been to hear him laugh for real here? It had to be next to impossible.

"Oh, believe me, to survive this party, you're gonna have to come up with one too."

A work laugh? Really? Laughter was the last thing she associated with work, but maybe there was something in that. And if Chandler could do it, she could too, and even better.

"All right, check me out."

The buttslapper and his wife had joined another group near them and he was just finishing another of those awful jokes.

"… says $30 Father; same as in town!"

Monica took a deep breath and let go, trying to make it as shrill and artificial as possible. "Haheheahahe…!" It sounded quite perfect in her ears, much better even than Kara's, given that the buttslapper's wife had to have much more practice. This was actually starting to be fun. She turned back to Chandler to get him to join in and maybe perfect his laugh even more, but for some reason he winced and motioned to her to go easy. Oh well. Maybe she could use this work laugh at her own work place. That should give her asshole colleagues something to think about.

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Fortunately, except for a brief stint at the bar where Doug was holding forth about the advantages of backhand slapping (so much more drive to it, but of course, not everyone can take that, eh, Bing?) the buttslappers left them and their butts pretty much in peace. As they drifted from group to group, chatting and mingling, and kept drinking all the while, she found herself relaxing and enjoying it all quite a lot. Yes, it was all quite meaningless and shallow, but it had been so long since she had attended a party like that. And apart from all else, it was something where she could be together with Chandler. That was what really counted.

Only when she noticed the first couples leaving, she realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh my, look at the time …"

"Right. If we don't leave now, I won't be able to sneak past Ross. He's sleeping quite lightly these days."

"Oh, um, as to that, I thought since we're already here, maybe you could let me have another look at your office …?"

"But you've seen it already – oh. Really? My office? Now?"

She squeezed his fingers lightly. "Yes, I'd love that. Unless your butt's too sore?"

He winced and then grinned. "No, I'm pretty callused there by now." He looked around the room, craning his neck a little. "Okay, coast seems to be clear - he's at the bar, but where's his wife?"

"Isn't that her at the buffet? Ugh, who's your caterer by the way? That caviar looks terrible."

"I know, better steer clear of it, it's probably a leftover from the Christmas party too …"

They inched their way to the door leading to the hallway with the executive offices and at last managed to sneak out without anyone taking notice. The hallway was almost dark, but they found their way to Chandler's office without having to turn on the ceiling lights, and hurriedly slipped inside. Chandler closed the door and pushed a small table against it for safety, then he turned to her and took her in his arms. She pressed against him, wrapping her bare arms around his waist under his coat and soaking up his body warmth as they kissed deeply and hungrily. For a little while they remained like that, snuggling and nestling against each other in front of the big window with the glittering colorful lights of nighttime New York unfolding beyond it, then he gently steered her towards his desk and lifted her up, pushing up her dress to her waist as she settled on it and pressed her thighs against his hips. They kissed again, giggling and moaning breathlessly while he tugged down her thong over her knees and slipped two fingers inside her, and she drew down the zipper of his pants, freeing his penis from his boxers, stroking and squeezing it until it almost seemed to thrum in her hands. He pushed her back until she was lying on the desk and bent over her, taking hold of her hands and kissing her neck and shoulders while she clung to him, screaming softly as she took him inside her and felt him pushing deeper. Just when she thought they had settled into the optimum position he shifted slightly and hooked her legs over his arms, lifting them up and holding her closer to him with his hands under her shoulders. It made her clench her hands in his coat on his back and scream in total abandon. Only when he clamped his mouth on hers to silence her she realized what she had done and they both froze for a long moment, listening breathlessly. But everything around them remained dark and silent and almost at once they picked up again where they had left off, and even as intense as before. A little less noisy though.

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When she entered Central Perk on the following day around noon, it turned out that she was the first there and there was even a blueberry muffin left. Since Ross wasn't due for at least another half hour she took it, returning to the couch just as Chandler rushed in. Conscious of Gunther watching them he didn't kiss her, but held out his arms instead, grinning all over his face.

"Hey! Everybody at work loved you last night!"

"Really?" It actually gave her quite a thrill.

"And! They like me more just because I was with you!" Chandler was almost dancing in place. "I think you repaired a lot of the damage from when they met Joey. And Doug wants us to play tennis with them! He's never even talked to me outside of work! Except for that time when we bumped into each other at that strip club -"

She glared at him and he caught himself immediately. "Strip … church. Anyway, I'm gonna go try and find a racket."

"Hey, I thought you already had one." She distinctly remembered seeing it in his room, leaning against the wardrobe.

"Oh, I used too, but then Joey thought it would be fun to go to Central Park and hit rocks at … bigger rocks." Yeah that figured – good thing she never lent him anything. Not anymore. Chandler almost danced his way back to the door where he came up against Rachel. Oh shoot, and here she had hoped for some alone time with her muffin and a book, but no such luck …

"Hey Rach, do you have a tennis racket?"

"Oh umm, you know I lent it to Joey and I never actually got it back ..."

Sounded about right. And here was Rachel now, immaculately turned out in her office suit under the coat she was just taking off. She kept primping herself nervously, tugging at her skirt and sleeves and brushing her hair back, and all the while never taking her eyes off her and keeping an almost hungry expression in her face. It put Monica on guard almost against her will.

"Hi!"

"What's up?!" That sounded so expectant somehow.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had to do inventory all day."

"Well yeah, I do, but I decided to take a long lunch and spend some time with my friend Monica. You know I - I feel that we don't talk anymore. How are you? What is new with you?"

What on earth had got into Rachel? Was she trying to tell her something and just didn't know how? But that had never been a problem, quite the contrary.

"Uhh, not much. Uh, work's good." Not quite true, but actually she couldn't wait to try out that work laugh thing in her kitchen later.

"Oh you know what, we don't have to talk about work. We can talk about anything!"

Yeah, right. There had been a time once when they had been able to just do that. But not anymore. Unfortunately, but there it was. "Okay. Umm …"

"Hey! You know what? Let's talk about relationships!" Monica felt her hackles rise as Rachel stared at her eagerly. What the hell …?

"Okay, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing!" Rachel didn't even bat an eyelash. "You go!"

If only she could use that story about her secret boyfriend again, but they had discarded it even before Christmas and Rachel would never buy it if she pretended she had taken up with him again. Or a new one who was just as shy and reticent as the first – there were limits even to Rachel's gullibility. Okay, she was getting on thin ice here. What was there she could say? And where were the others when she needed them? Now would really be a good time for Ross to slouch in and whine about the latest disaster…

"Well, I - I—there was this guy at the bank that I thought was cute - umm, but I don't anymore ..."

There was an expectant pause until Rachel seemed to realize that there was nothing more forthcoming, and she abruptly turned away, biting her lip.

"Wow that's … uh, juicy. Umm – " and she glanced at her watch "you know what though, Mon, I actually do have a lot of work to do, so if - if—are you sure there's just not anything else?"

For a fleeting moment Monica was actually worried. This wasn't like Rachel. Maybe this wasn't about her as she had assumed, but something that Rachel tried to confide to her?

"Yes, I'm sure! Rachel is there something that you want to talk me about?"

"No!" Rachel got up, smoothing her skirt and grabbing her coat as she turned to leave. Monica stared after her and thought she heard her mutter something under her breath. It sounded like 'I wouldn't tell you', but she wasn't sure. Well, so much for Rachel and their friendship. In the beginning it had seemed so simple and so obvious that she couldn't share the secret of her relationship with Chandler with Rachel. Not with any of the other four, but especially not with Rachel. It had simply been out of the question. But now she was starting to doubt the wisdom of that decision just a little. Yes, if that relationship with Chandler was to succeed it was quite crucial that it should be kept secret for a while longer, but what about the damage it did to her friendship with Rachel and also Phoebe? Would they ever be able to trust her again, safe in the belief that they knew everything about her there was to know? Or would it create a rift that they would never be able to close again once they arrived at the point where it all came out? She could only hope that Rachel was mature enough by now to understand what had led her to keep her relationship a secret, and how much it cost her. And also hope that it had been the right decision to make.

Her coffee had gone cold and now she seemed to have lost her appetite for the muffin too.