HI AGAIN! :-) HERE IS PART FOUR OF "A LOVE AGAINST ALL ODDS." THANK YOU TO THE PEOPLE WHO GAVE ME FEEDBACK, BOTH ON THE PREVIOUS PARTS OF THIS FIC AS WELL AS FOR THE OTHER FICS THAT I'VE POSTED -- IT IS GREATLY APPRECIATED! OKAY, WELL, COMPLICATIONS MOUNT... ENJOY! OH, AND I TRIED TO SPACE IT OUT MORE... WHETHER OR NOT IT WORKS DEPENDS ENTIRELY UPON MY COMPUTER'S MOOD, LOL. ANYWAY, ENJOY! (AND, AS ALWAYS, PLEASE REVIEW!)

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Chandler stood nervously in the doorway of Jack Geller's office, wringing his hat in his hands.

"Yes I did, son. Come in, have a seat." Chandler obediently entered the dim room and closed the door behind him, at his boss's request. He sat in front of Mr. Geller's desk, feeling very out-of-place in the elegantly furnished office. He was immediately unnerved at being summoned into the office, and he wondered for a fleeting moment what it was about. Jack cleared his throat and removed his glasses. "Look, you're a smart kid and I'm just going to cut to the chase here, okay?" Chandler nodded. "My wife has requested that I... terminate your employment." Chandler frowned, confused.

"Sir?"

"It seems that she... suspects that there is something going on between you and my daughter." He quieted and watched Chandler blankly. Taken aback by the accusation, Chandler stared back at him, entirely speechless. He wondered how much they knew and how much Monica had told them, if anything. Jack Geller's even gaze intimidated him slightly. He'd always liked the man, especially a lot more than he liked Mrs. Geller, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Mr. Geller wouldn't be exactly thrilled about his only daughter taking up with someone of hired help status. When he realized that he wouldn't be getting a response without prompting one, Jack spoke again. "Perhaps you can shed some light on the subject. What exactly is the nature of your relationship with my daughter?" After one more silent and thoughtful moment, Chandler realized he couldn't lie to the man and he cleared his throat nervously.

"I, uh--" He swallowed. "I'm in love with her, sir." Expecting an irate outburst, he was both surprised and relieved when Jack simply sighed and leaned back in his chair.

"Is that so?" Chandler momentarily wondered if the tone of amusement was as real as the somewhat amused expression on the man's face, but he dismissed both and nodded solemnly, concentrating intently on what his boss was going to say.

"Well, son, I'm sorry to say that despite such feelings, I'm going to have to let you go at my wife's insistence. The reason I called you in here to talk is a simple one. It concerns your mother."

"My mother?" Chandler repeated. Jack nodded.

"You see, while my wife is adamant that you are dismissed, she has made no such demand of your mother; therefore, your mother's situation depends on what you want and what she wants. I can, of course, let both of you go, and we can make up a reason if you don't wish to concern your mother with the truth. Or, another option, I can keep your mother working here and attempt to find you a job, although I must forewarn you that it is unlikely that one will be found anywhere nearby." He rose from his seat and walked around to the front of his desk, leaning against it and folding his hands in front of him. "Basically, I've noted your protectiveness regarding your mother, and I wanted to put the possibilities into perspective. She seems to be quite happy here and Judy is happy with her, so I wanted to let you know that she has options." Chandler nodded, acknowledging his duty to make a decision. After a thoughtful silence, he spoke quietly.

"She'll stay," he said in a low voice. "I'll leave." Jack nodded, momentarily sorry that the boy was going to have to leave. He was a good worker, and Jack had grown quite fond of him. Chandler sighed and rose from the chair, putting his hat back on his head and extending his hand toward his boss. "Thank you for the options, sir." Jack nodded and shook his hand.

"You can stay on until the end of the week," he said. "By then I will probably have some word of work elsewhere for you, if you'd like me to inquire." Chandler nodded.

"If you wouldn't mind." Jack nodded again. "Thank you." He quietly exited Jack's office and closed the door behind him, leaning against it and sighing as he closed his eyes. He wondered how on earth they'd found out about him and Monica, and all he could come up with was that something had happened after they'd returned from their walk the night before. It would explain why he hadn't even seen her around that morning. He sighed again as he straightened, wondering how on earth he was going to handle saying goodbye to the woman he loved.



"There you are." Monica tensed as Chandler squatted next to her under her tree.

"Hello," she replied shortly.

"Hello?" Chandler frowned. "Monica, why have you been avoiding me?" His eyes were demanding but his tone was gentle, and Monica found herself with mixed feelings. She was angry, but not with him. She was angry with her parents for making him leave and she was angry with herself for... she didn't even know what. Lack of courage, perhaps. The first and only man she'd ever loved was being sent away in less than a week, and all she'd done to protest was to throw a childish tantrum all alone in her bedroom.

"Avoiding you?" she repeated carefully. He sighed as he realized what she was doing. She was distancing herself from him. He was leaving in three short days and she would be left alone, lost in her world of parties, courtships, and money. Ironically, it seemed to both of them that despite the grim situation, it was almost as if he were getting the better end of the deal.

"Monica--"

"Sh." She cut him off as she looked past him and saw her mother's stony expression through the kitchen window. "We'll talk tonight. Not now." A look into her cool blue eyes told him that no argument could be won, and so he simply nodded resignedly and rose, looking at her intently for a minute before turning and heading back toward the house. She sighed as she watched him go, wishing with all her heart that her life was different. As he disappeared from view, she turned her face toward the setting sun and closed her eyes, soaking up the last rays of the day as she fought the frustrated tears that pricked at the back of her eyes. She opened them and gazed out over the horizon, feeling the exasperating combination of anger, desperation, and sadness churning within her. She was furious with her parents for firing Chandler. She was furious with herself for being so spineless. She was furious with Chandler for leaving her, despite the fact that she knew he didn't have a choice. The idea of losing him forever made her desperate, and it was worsened by the knowledge that within a few short months of his departure, she would be married off to a man she didn't love and never could. She ran her hand absently through the grass, wondering where she would find the strength to say goodbye to him in a matter of days, and at the same time knowing that doing so would break her heart. The inkling of a hope was pushed away as she silently reminded herself that allowing optimism would only worsen the pain.



"Monica." She forced a smile as she stood outside his bedroom door. She suddenly noticed the fact that she loved the way he said her name. It was as though her name fit in his mouth and when he said it she liked the way it sounded. She blinked and pushed the thoughts away as she looked nervously into his cool blue eyes.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course." He stepped back and held the door open for her, inviting her in.

"Chandler, I'm so sorry," she began once she'd entered the room and he'd closed the door.

"Sorry?" he repeated, confused. She nodded.

"I'm sorry I got you fired, I'm sorry that it's because of me that you're going to have to leave your mother, I'm sorry that because of me you have to leave town..." She was silenced by Chandler's hand on her mouth. He was silent for a moment before speaking.

"Are you also sorry for falling in love with me?" Surprised, she was silent for a moment before shaking her head. "Good," he replied. "Because I'm not sorry for anything that's happened. I'm not sorry that you filled me with the most amazing feeling in the world. I'm not sorry that I finally know what it feels like to be in love. I'm not sorry about anything that's happened, except that I've made things hard for you."

"For me?" He nodded.

"With your parents, I'm guessing. I mean, I don't know about your father, he didn't seem so upset, but I'm guessing your mother is pretty steamed, right?" Monica shrugged.

"My mother was never satisfied with me," she replied simply. Chandler gently stroked her cheek.

"How can anyone be less than amazed by you, let alone satisfied?" he wondered aloud. Monica blushed and smiled, and regardless of the troubles it had caused them, Chandler couldn't help kissing her. He felt her kiss back and he sighed into her mouth as their mouths opened and he explored hers with his tongue. Suddenly he pulled away harshly and ran the back of his hand across his mouth, looking guilty and ashamed.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"This. I shouldn't be doing this."

"Well, it's a bit late now, is it not?" Monica asked skeptically.

"No, I mean... well, I'm leaving in three days. It's not fair of me to... you know... keep this going like nothing's changed. It's just going to make it harder." He glared at the wall as they stood silently, the lanterns sending shadows dancing about the room and illuminating their faces with a soft glow. As she moved to stand in front of him, he looked at her and was struck by how soft her skin looked in the dim light, and he inadvertently reached up and stroked her cheek.

"It can't get much harder," she said softly as her eyes filled with tears. The statement struck her suddenly as she realized just how true it was. She couldn't imagine having to let him go, and the knowledge that she would soon have to do so was tearing her apart. Her attempts to keep him at a distance until his departure had been futile, as she became determined to soak up every last second she had with him before he left town and her life. She stood on her toes and gently kissed him again, pulling away to look into his eyes. God, she knew she was going to miss those eyes when they were gone. His eyes, his laugh, the way he ran his hand through his hair, the way he held her tightly in his arms and made her feel so safe... everything. After a moment of silence he leaned in and kissed her again, all notions of "not making things harder" flying out the window. She reacted to his kiss eagerly and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. They kissed for what had to have been at least ten minutes, and as he pulled away and stared at her face, she felt her heart lurch at the tender expression that gave away his true emotions. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers as he laced the fingers of his left hand with those of her right.

"I love you so much," he whispered. She sighed, struggling against the threatening tears.

"Me too," she whispered back, unable to keep from kissing him again. As their tongues met, she pressed herself against him, needing to feel as close to him as possible. Driven by desire, desperation, and denial, she kissed him with an almost urgent neediness. He stopped kissing her to catch his breath and he looked at her solemnly, feeling his heart aching as he imagined leaving. After a momentary silence, she kissed him lightly on the lips and stared at him solemnly. Her expression turned to one of shyness as she timidly ran her hands up underneath his white t-shirt, feeling the goose bumps rise on his skin as he gently stroked her shoulders through the fabric of her dressing gown. He watched her intently as she removed her hands from under his shirt and slowly untied the sash that held her robe closed.

"Monica?" he inquired curiously. She didn't respond, instead simply allowing the dressing gown to fall to the floor, leaving her in a simple white cotton underdress like the one she'd been swimming in a few nights ago. "What, uh... what's going on?" She once more placed her hands on his torso, this time gently lifting the hem of his shirt and looking at him calmly.

"I'm taking your shirt off," she said quietly as she raised the shirt up and over his head, running her hands over his now bare chest as the shirt joined her robe on the floor. She softly kissed his neck, and he closed his eyes as her soft lips brushed over his skin. His breath caught in his throat and he tried to keep his composure, not wanting to get lost in the exhilarating feeling of being with her to the point where he would do something imprudent.

"Monica," he said again, his voice catching slightly in his throat.

"Hm?" she continued to kiss his soft skin for a moment before pulling away and looking at him intently. He was silent as he stared into her clear blue eyes, trying to articulate what he knew he should be saying. She gently reached out and took his hand, guiding it to the tie at the front of her dress. She helped him untie it, never averting her gaze from his eyes, and felt her heartbeat accelerate as the tie loosened and the soft skin just above her breasts was revealed. He stared at her, the fear in his eyes mirroring the anxiety in her heart. They both knew how dangerous and how wrong it was for them to be together in such a way, but conformity never seemed to be much of an issue when they were together. She ran her hands over his torso once more and then gently undid the button on his pants, allowing them to fall to the floor, leaving him in just his shorts. As her eyes met his once again, he felt his anxiety mounting as her hands continued to roam over his chest. He licked his lips uneasily.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he whispered hoarsely, savoring the sensation of her hands running over his bare skin.

"Probably not," she whispered back, gazing into his eyes. "But there are a lot of things we shouldn't have done that we did. Why stop now?" He stared at her, trying to think of an argument. Despite the fact that he wanted her more than anything, he didn't want to do something that one or both of them would later regret, and he knew that in doing something like making love to her, it would only complicate the situation, especially when it came time for his departure. Added to which, doing something of such a nature with someone like Monica Geller couldn't amount to anything good with the exception of the happiness it would provide them. Recognizing his apprehension, she kissed him again, and while he knew he should stop it, he couldn't help himself and he found himself lifting her dress over her head and kissing her hungrily. The overwhelming feelings of love for her took over as he lowered her onto his bed, temporarily erasing everything else, and he both wanted and needed her. He gently ran his hands over her naked form, putting into actions what he felt in his heart, and as he made love to her he realized that no matter where he went, to the next town or to the opposite side of the world, his heart would be forever filled with Monica Geller.



"I'm going with you," she said softly as they laid in his bed together. He raised his head to look at her and she couldn't help smiling at his rumpled look. His hair was ruffled and he looked like he'd been half asleep, but there was a shine in his eyes. He stared at her for a moment before speaking, and she smiled at his soft and loving voice that both soothed and exhilarated her.

"What do you mean, you're going with me?"

"I'm going with you," she repeated simply.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning when you leave, wherever you go, I'm going with you." Chandler rolled onto his back and sat up against his headboard, hugging Monica to him and sighing as she rested her head on his chest.

"Monica, you can't go with me," he said sadly.

"Why not?" she challenged as he stroked her bare arm.

"It just won't work." She sat up, a defiant look on her face that he knew signaled the ignition of her temper.

"Why not?" she asked again. He sighed. "What, don't you love me or something?" He looked at her sternly.

"Monica, you know I love you." He said it so quickly and forcefully that Monica had to fight the smile that threatened to creep across her face.

"I know," she said. "So what is it then?"

"Well, firstly, your parents would come to find you and drag you back." She seemed to consider the thought for a moment before speaking.

"Not if they don't know where we are."

"But they will. Your father's finding me a job."

"Well, just don't take whatever job he finds you. Find one yourself." Chandler sighed.

"Okay, let's suspend reality for a moment and say that I could find a job somewhere they wouldn't find us. I can't do that to you."

"Do it to me?" she repeated.

"Yes. I can't take you away from this. From money, from comfortable living, from high-class parties and the lifestyle you're used to. I can't whisk you away from all that and into a life of hardship. I couldn't live with myself if I did that to you. You deserve so much more than that, Monica, and I just can't provide you with it."

"So you couldn't take me away with you, but you could leave me behind to be married to some arrogant, lifeless man like Peter Becker?" Chandler sighed as he felt the pang that always accompanied the image of Monica with another man.

"No," he whispered. "I don't want that. But at least then I know you'll have the life you deserve."

"The life I deserve," Monica repeated dryly. "A loveless life?" He was silent. "Chandler, we went through this before. If that were the kind of life I wanted, I would have it. I'd be with someone like Peter Becker already, but I'm not. I'm with you. I WANT to be with you, not with anyone else. I don't care about money, I don't care about status... I just want to be with you." Chandler sighed and shook his head pityingly.

"Monica, it's fine for you to say you don't care about those things, but you don't know what it's like not to have them."

"So I'll find out." As he gazed into her eyes, he wanted more than anything to believe that it could happen -- that he could whisk her away and they could be together -- but at the same time he knew that she wasn't being realistic.

"Monica," he said again, but he was interrupted by her hand on his mouth.

"Do you love me?" she asked seriously, looking adoringly into his eyes.

"You know I do."

"Then that's all that matters. I love you and you love me. I know it's not going to be easy and I know that you think I'm too naive to see that, but I love you and I want to be with you. Nothing else in this world can make me happy like you can, and nothing can make me happy at all if you're gone." Chandler was silent for a moment as he stared at her.

"I just... I don't want you to run away from your home, your family -- everything you've known -- and toward a life that could be a lot harder than you imagine." She laced her fingers together with his.

"I don't care how hard it is, as long as it's spent with you." After a moment of thoughtful silence, she obstinately declared it again. "I'm going with you."

"You're sure?" he asked softly, running his fingers gently through her hair.

"More so than ever before," she said bluntly. He nodded as he kissed the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair. After a short pause, he leaned his head back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling.

"I don't understand," he said softly, his voice filled with amazement.

"Don't understand what?" Monica asked gently. He was quiet for a moment before he looked into her eyes.

"How can you love me in spite of what I am?" In that instant, he looked like a vulnerable man, a scared child, and a pleading puppy all in one, and Monica felt her heart wrench.

"I don't," she whispered after a moment. "I don't love you in spite of what you are. I love you BECAUSE of what you are." Chandler kissed her deeply, trying to erase the fears and the doubts that nagged at his mind, and instead focused on the joy of knowing that she truly loved him and that he wasn't going to have to leave her behind.



"I should go," she whispered an hour later as they realized that the sun would be up in less than two hours. He nodded and groaned slightly as she extricated herself from his embrace. She quietly slipped into her dress and then her robe, smiling when she felt Chandler take hold of her hand. She turned to face him and he grinned, sitting up against the headboard with the sheet draped over the lower half of his body.

"I can't believe this," he said softly, kissing her hand gently.

"Believe what?"

"All of it," he confessed after a minute's consideration. "I can't believe I found you. I can't believe you love me back. But truthfully, I meant I can't believe that we're going to leave together. I thought..." He shook his head slightly. "I thought I was going to lose you forever." Monica smiled.

"On the contrary. You'll never get rid of me now."

"Good." He smiled as she grinned back at him. He kissed her lips gently and then kissed her hand once more.

"I love you, Mon," he whispered against her skin.

"I love you, too."

"You're sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," she answered instantly and he smiled, feeling reassured. Suddenly the idea of leaving didn't seem so horrible -- in fact, quite the opposite -- he was looking forward to starting a life with her, just the two of them. He kissed her once more.

"Okay. I guess we should leave in the morning then. They're expecting me to leave Saturday afternoon, but if we wait until Saturday it will be much harder to sneak off early. Best to do it tomorrow."

"That soon?" Monica asked. Chandler looked at her skeptically. "I'm not doubting," she said instantly. "Just... reiterating." He nodded.

"There's a 3 a.m. train tomorrow. They run 3 a.m. trains every weekday to every major station in the northeast." Monica nodded.

"Where are we going?" she asked curiously. He paused.

"Boston."

"Boston?" He nodded.

"That's where my father lives. We haven't exactly been in much contact over the past ten years, but he's the only person I know who lives in a different state, and the likelihood of him speaking to my mother is minimal. I wired him the day I found out I was going to have to leave here, because I wasn't sure about whatever job your father was going to find for me, if any. He got me a job working for a friend of his up there."

"Wow," she whispered, letting it all sink in. In less than 24 hours, she'd be on her way to a strange state to start a new life with hardly any money and nothing more than the clothes and items she could pack. "Okay," she added when she saw that he still looked unconvinced. "I'm ready." He simply nodded again.

"Well, the train leaves at 3 a.m., so we should leave here at about half-past two. Pack your things and bring them down to my room at two o'clock, and we'll leave for the station soon after." She nodded, feeling both terrified and exhilarated at the turn her life was about to take. She kissed him once more and smiled.

"Thank you for tonight." He blushed and she smiled again. "See you at breakfast." She rose from his bed and, taking her lantern carefully from his nightstand, she left his room quietly closing the door behind her.



Monica gently placed her hand-held mirror in her suitcase between her clothes so that it wouldn't get broken on the trip. She sighed and sat down on the bed next to her things. She knew that there was no way she could take everything, and being selective had turned out to be far more difficult than she'd planned. It wasn't until she tried to squeeze her life into two suitcases and a carry-on bag that she realized how little she'd be able to keep with her. The few photographs that she had she'd removed from the frames and placed inside her stationary box. She'd taken the most sensible of her clothes, knowing that regardless of what happened in Boston, she wouldn't be needing her party dresses or formal gowns. She momentarily toyed with the idea of taking her books, but knew how heavy they would be and how much space they would take, so she simply chose a few of her favorites and reluctantly left the rest behind. She glanced around the room, realizing that although she couldn't wait to be gone, she would miss both the room and her home. While she'd never gotten on well with her mother, she knew she would miss her father and her brother tremendously, not to mention Rachel. She sighed once more and rose to continue packing. She knew that if she allowed herself to reminisce or to get nostalgic all of a sudden, she might begin questioning her decision, and the bottom line was that she knew she had to be with Chandler wherever he went. After a minute's deliberation, she opened her jewelry box and studied the contents. While the jewelry she had was far from sensational, she had a few pieces that were quite elegant and if nothing else, she knew that they would be worth some money if the necessity ever arose. She stared into it for another moment before she pulled out a simple necklace that her father had given her for her sixteenth birthday. While she hadn't worn it often, she loved it and it was one of her favorite items. After a slight hesitation, she reached up and clasped it around her neck, unable to leave it behind. If nothing else, it would serve as her reminder of her father and how he'd always understood her far better than anyone else. She sighed and closed the lid of the box, taking the few pieces she'd removed and putting them gently in her bag of toiletries, assuming it was the safest place for them. She threw a quick glance around the room, checking for anything she might have forgotten, and seeing nothing, bent to close and lock her cases. She straightened and grabbed her warmest coat from the closet. Despite the fact that it was June and quite warm, she knew that Boston was still probably quite chilly and it would be better to have a ridiculously warm coat than an insufficient one. She stood her baggage by the bedroom door and sat on the bed with her coat, anxiously counting down the minutes until two o'clock.

Monica silently closed her bedroom door behind her and allowed her hand to linger on the doorknob for a split second longer than normal. Trying to brush away the wistful feelings at leaving the house she'd lived in all her life, she noiselessly threw her bag over her shoulder, picked up her two suitcases, and crept down the stairs. She glanced around the living room quickly, trying to ignore the memories of how many evenings she'd spent listening to her father read and playing with Ross when they were younger. She knew that as soon as she saw Chandler her doubts would ease, and she hastily walked toward the kitchen. She silently placed her suitcases inside the kitchen door and draped her coat around her shoulders, knowing that although it would be warm, it would be easier to carry that way. As she bent to lift the cases once more, she almost jumped out of her skin as a voice interrupted the silence.
"You're up early." She froze, a feeling of pure terror wash through her as she looked up. There, illuminated by the moonlight that shone through the kitchen window and staring at her calmly, was her father.

DON'T YA LOVE CLIFFHANGERS? HAVE NO FEAR, PART FIVE IS ALREADY PARTLY DONE AND WILL THEREFORE BE POSTED BY THE END OF THE WEEK (PROVIDED THAT I HIT NO MAJOR SNAGS, OF COURSE.) IT ACTUALLY MIGHT EVEN BE POSTED TONIGHT IF ALL GOES WELL! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK -- REVIEW IT! THANKS FOR READING!! :-)