A/N: It's finally here guys. THE MEETING.

X-X

Monica fiddled with her earrings, glancing at the doorway for the umpteenth time in five minutes.

Around her, the ballroom was heaving with lavishly-dressed guests – women dressed in evening gowns and men in tuxes; the dangling chandeliers making every wine glass, piece of jewellery and polished smile sparkle even more brightly.

It was a far fancier event than Monica was used to and compulsively she smoothed down her silver dress and tightened her mask. Every guest had kept to the masquerade theme, from proper costume masks hiding their whole faces or smaller ones just over the eyes.

Either way, it made spotting people hard, a fact Monica was bitterly aware of right now, as she fruitlessly surveyed the crowd.

Sighing, she slumped against the pillar, stomach churning.

This was definitely the spot she'd said – under the left archway at the far end of the hall. And 7pm, their meeting time, had come and gone almost 15 minutes ago.

She may be stubborn, but Monica knew when to cut her losses. He wasn't coming. He'd freaked out and everything – her speech, the last email, her encouragement – hadn't been enough for him to believe this could happen.

Swallowing, she tucked her hair behind her ears and prepared to leave.

"Screwed up kid's union?" Said an unusually deep voice behind her.

Monica whirled around, shock zipping through her, and there – half hidden behind the pillar, hovering in the shadows and looking ready to bolt at any second – was Chandler.

Her breath caught, and she found she couldn't speak, frozen by the moment.

"Um, hello?" Chandler prompted, shuffling his feet, "Cookie?"

Monica pulled herself together. "Speaking Sarcasm?"

Chandler had disguised himself well – he was wearing a tux Monica had never seen before, was deepening his voice so it was practically unrecognisable, and got a mask hid as much as possible. A costume mask, designed to look like a medieval jester; it was decorated in the criss-cross, coloured squares covering Chandler's face from chin to forehead, then extended up into little points with bells dangling off the end, so she couldn't make out his hair. Even the eye holes were only small slits, hiding his blue gaze.

"A court jester?" Monica questioned, already smiling.

Chandler-as-Speaking-Sarcasm shrugged, "it seemed appropriate," he replied, still in his deeper voice. "What with my name and me being…uh, me."

Monica laughed properly at that. Had she been meeting Speaking Sarcasm for real, she had to admit she'd have been weirdly charmed.

"So, I should have come as a giant cookie?" She joked.

"Or the cookie monster?" He quipped. "Though not sure that keeps to the masquerade theme."

She laughed again and then paused, silence hanging between them. Chandler started shuffling again.

"Look, I just wanted to say, um, –" he cleared his throat, whether from nervousness or trying to disguise his voice. "I know I totally bailed on you, and I uh, wanted to say that I'm sorry. I – I just – just freaked and had some stuff going on and got all Ch – me and –"

"Hey," she squeezed his arm. "It's ok, I understand – honestly, it's not like you didn't warn me about your freak outs. The important thing is that you're here now.

A breath puffed out of him. "Thanks."

The orchestra started up a new song, strains of a gentle melody drifting through the room and Chandler seemed to decide something.

"So, um do you want to dance?" He asked. "I think this might be slow enough for me not to mess up."

Monica took his hand. "Sounds great."

As Speaking Sarcasm, Chandler; her mysterious stranger and life-long friend led her onto the dance floor, Monica paused and inhaled, savouring the moment with every inch of her.

A jumble of whirling, searing emotions washed through her, and in that second, she was aware of everything – the babble of the crowd, the orchestral music swelling, the lights glittering down on them and most of all the squinting smile in his eyes.

This was it. This was the moment that she'd been waiting for. And it was all she'd ever wanted.

X-X

Chandler guided Monica out to the dance floor, certain she'd feel the sweat pooling in his palms.

Unsurprisingly he'd almost wimped out multiple times on the way, including when he'd seen her across the room just a minute ago, sparkling, vibrant and so beautiful it made his chest hurt. What the hell was he doing here? He really thought this woman could miraculously change her mind about him?

Only Monica's line from before, it would mean a lot to have that moment. To finally meet kept him walking. If nothing else, he could give her that.

"Even if it's not a cookie monster costume," he said, "you look – um, just wow."

She laughed lightly, making his chest tingle. "Thanks. You look great too."

"The mask helps," he cracked, pushing away a pang of guilt.

They carried on dancing, joking about the music and how fancy everything, everything both familiar and nerve-wracking at the same time. Even as part of Chandler was soaring, savouring the feel of her hands in his, his anxiety mounted. He wasn't sure how long he could or should keep up the act – if he was going to tell Monica the truth or walk away completely, then he needed to do it now, before she recognised him.

He just needed to decide.

Of course, what made it even shittier was Monica seemed to be enjoying herself – laughing at his crappy jokes, brushing his arm, even flirting. She'd was thoroughly charmed by her mysterious stranger and that made Chandler want to tear down the fancy chandelier with his bare hands.

They danced through two songs and as the third one started Monica exhaled and swayed just a little closer.

"I can't believe we're finally here," she murmured.

"I know," Chandler said. "It's…surreal."

"I was always worried about meeting." She confessed. "I mean, I wanted to, but I was so sure I'd just be disappointed. Everything was so easy and familiar and comfortable with us online – there was no way it could be like that in reality. But then –"

A rare and unusual certainty settled in Chandler. He swallowed down a lump in his throat and pulled away, cutting Monica before she could say anything more.

"Stop, there's…there's something you should know."

She moved towards him, something flickering in her eyes. "Wait, no, I –"

"I should have told you before, but –" Chandler carried on, reaching for the back of his head and fumbling with his mask.

"You don't have to –"

"I just, I was stupid and worried and –"

"Chandler –"

"It's complicated and I hope you won't hate me, but –" he'd finally got the knot. "But it's kind of big and –"

"Chandler," Monica spoke again, "I know."

He jerked, her words finally washing over him just as his mask finally fell loose.

In the same instant Monica pulled away her mask, sending jolts of fire through Chandler's body. She raised her chin defiantly, jaw set, lips pressed together and blue eyes brimming. "Hi Chandler."

"Monica." He gaped at her. "What are you doing?"

"I have things to explain as well." She admitted.

"Uh, yeah." He spluttered. "You knew it was me?"

"Well, um," Monica glanced around them and Chandler abruptly remembered that they were standing stock-still in the middle of the floor, while couples danced around glaring at them. "Shall we talk somewhere more private?"

"Uh, ok." He nodded numbly.

They headed across the ballroom, Monica pulling him through a side-door and into a small courtyard, with a stone bench where they sat down.

"I haven't known for long," she started immediately. "Only a couple of days."

"Right. Ok." He managed, head pounding with a mix of shock and confusion. Why hadn't she told him before? Hadn't she realised how he felt? Had she felt sorry for him? Was this her letting him down gently?

He settled on an easier question. "How did you find out?"

She smiled sheepishly, "That night you turned up drunk – you were rambling about me and Cookie Addict and I put it together."

A cold flush of horror coursed through him. "Shit. That's why you were weird that morning."

"I had to go back through all our emails to be sure," she said. "But once I knew – well everything was blindingly obvious afterwards. I don't know how I missed it."

Chandler swallowed, the cold turning to a burn of humiliation. God, what the hell had he said to her that night?

Before he could ask, Monica carried on. "What about you?" She asked. "I guess something in my emails finally tipped you off?"

"Yeah, not many people have a friend who peed on them," Chandler said. "But that only came up in one of your last emails."

"Right."

"I doubled checked as well, I was sure I would have worked it out. But when I read through everything we'd said to each other…it all matched up. I just couldn't believe I hadn't worked it out already."

"I know," Monica shook her head, "it's crazy." She shifted closer to him and Chandler finally pulled himself together, coming back to the inevitable question.

"The things is –" His stomach clenched and sweat trickled down his back. "With my emails and list and everything, you must have figured out that I, my –"

"Your dream girl." She said quietly, eyes suddenly impossible soft as she gazed up at him, sparkling in the lights. "And the friend you've had a crush on for years. Yeah, I realised that as well."

"Then what are you doing here?" Chandler demanded, anger flaring suddenly. "Why didn't you tell me? Why did you make me doall of this?"

He remembered Cookie Addict's final email and Monica confiding to him about her feelings for Speaking Sarcasm – she'd knownby then? What the hell was she doing?

"Is this some sort of joke to you?" He snapped. "Setting me up to humiliate Chandler? Are Phoebe and Rachel around the corner watching?"

"No," Monica cried, "of course not!"

"Then what?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She grabbed his hands. "This is me trying to show you I feel the same way!"

Chandler froze, stunned in place, playing her words back over and over.

"What?" He croaked.

"I thought you'd get it by now," Monica said, half laughing, though her eyes were damp.

"But – but since when do you feel like this?" Chandler stuttered out. "Because you sure as hell didn't feel like this before. "I'd know."

Monica ducked her head, blushing. "After your drunken rambles and putting everything together, I found looked at things differently." She admitted. "At you. I'd fallen hard for Speaking Sarcasm, and I was confused because now he was both this mysterious, romantic stranger and my best friend across the hall."

"I know that feeling."

"I didn't think I felt that way about you," she went on, thankfully missing his flinch. "And until that night I had no clue you felt like that about me. But somehow, I did feel like that about Speaking Sarcasm? I thought I must have got confused – that Speaking Sarcasm wasn't the honest, real you and you'd faked things somehow."

"Right."

"But the more I read our emails, I realised that he was you. Just the parts that you didn't normally let show. Or, more accurately, the parts of you I'd overlooked. And I realised I wanted this – wanted an us."

Chandler licked his lips. "Really?" He asked hoarsely.

She squeezed his hand. "Really."

Somehow that one word made the courtyard spin dizzily around him, Chandler's ears ringing and chest quaking as he gazed at her. He took a deep, shaky breath, centring himself and reached out to stroke her cheek, feeling her soft skin under her fingers, confirming this moment was real. Monica just smiled, leaning into his touch.

"What about your side of it all?" She inquired, breaking his daze. "I guessed you vanished because you'd figured it out?"

"Bang on," Chandler rolled his eyes. "There I was thinking I was doing great, clicking with this fantastic woman online – only to discover she's the fantastic woman I'm trying to get over." He cringed, still feeling a stab of pain at the memory. "So, I did the classic cowardly Chandler thing – and ran away. And I'm sorry for that."

"But you came back." She reminded him.

"It was important to you," he said. "I didn't want to hurt you – Cookie Addict you or Monica-you." He scrubbed a hand through his hair, something still niggling at him. "But Mon, if you figured it all out and wanted this, then set up this whole night? Why not just tell me?"

She scooted closer to him, lacing their hands together again. "Because I wanted you to believe in yourself and take that step in being together – not get dragged down by your insecurities that I could never want you."

"And, although it's not as important, after all this time I wanted us to have this night we'd been waiting for. We won't ever be Cookie Addict and Speaking Sarcasm again, but they deserved this moment and a proper ending to their journey."

"But do you really want this?" Chandler demanded, gripping her hands tighter. "Not just Cookie Addict wanting Speaking Sarcasm, but Monica wanting Chandler? Because to be honest that's the bit I still can't believe."

Chandler could barely force out the words, tasting black in his mouth, but they had to be said – what if Monica had got swept away in the romance of the moment? And by next week she'd realise he was just sad, boring Chandler from across the hall and everything would be over, and he'd be more crushed than ever.

Monica looked at him fondly. "If there's one thing I've learned from both your selves," she said lightly. "It's how you underestimate yourself. You're amazing Chandler – any girl would be lucky to have you. And I can't believe I've been out looking smart, sensitive, amazing guy online when really I should have just looked across the hall."

"I also can't believe you've been sitting here, wanting me but thinking I'm out of your league or something crazy." She raised her chin, taking on that steely glint he knew so well. "I want you. And if you still feel the same way you confessed you did in those emails – then I want to do this."

Chandler stared at her for a beat longer and then, with a surge of courage, cupped her face in his hands, pulled her in and kissed her. It was deep and hard and made everything in him buzz – Monica moaned and grabbed his suit jacket, jerking him closer.

Eventually they pulled away, foreheads pressed together, "Has that persuaded you?" Monica whispered.

Chandler laughed, feeling free and happy in a way he hadn't for so long. "Just about"

He'd never in a hundred years expected to end up here tonight, with Monica Geller in his arms and looking at him like this.

"But," he quipped, leaning in again. "I'm open to more persuasion."

X-X

A/N: It finally happened! They finally met! They finally admitted the truth! All is well in Mondler land. Hope everyone enjoyed and it lived up to romantic expectations. And Monica got is through Chandler's insecure head that yes she wants him too. As always, please review!

This was the last main chapter, but there will be a short epilogue coming.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to everyone!