Part One
April 23, 1993
"…That's why darling, its incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am…unforgettable too…"
Unaware that she is dangerously out of tune, Monica sings, or rather, shouts into the air as she put one of her long legs on the edge of the tub and squeezes soapy water leisurely upon it with a sponge.
She has been in this state for more than an hour now. The water is getting cold and her skin is getting wrinkly but she is reluctant to get out. The way she sees it is that she deserves to behave as self-destructively and as sluttishly as she wishes. What better day to let go of her inhibitions than her birthday?
In fact, she plans to indulge in all seven deadly sins after she finish her bath…that is if she doesn't drown or die of hypothermia first.
Oh who is she kidding? She sighs dejectedly and submerged her head beneath the water.
Another year, another birthday, another failed relationship.
She was a fool to think that her single days are finally over and her plan to be married before the age of 25 might actually be fulfilled…
At the rate she is going, it'd be a long time before she is emotionally well enough to get into another relationship again. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if she is still single when she's forty.
She emerges from the water and rubs her face troublesomely. Is she some kind of a jerk magnet? How come all the men she's gone out with are either alcoholics, people with girlfriends or worst, commitment-phobics? When is she going to form a functional relationship with a responsible adult?
Just when she ponders over the possibility of entering a nunnery, strange footsteps are echoed outside the hall.
What the hell? There is no way her parents would come out here in April at this time of the day.
Alarmingly, she gets out of the tub, wraps a towel around her body and grabs the most effective weapon available in sight: a bottle of Lysol.
She creeps into the hall with the can of air freshener in her hand, ready to spray at whoever it is straight in the eyes. She vaguely reproaches herself for being paranoid. However, her heart is beating so wildly that she can't even tell between the footsteps and the violent thuds against her chest.
Like a bad horror movie comes to life, a startling cold hand settles upon her shoulder and she literally jumps out of her skin. In a moment of blind frenzy, she clogs the intruder in the ribs, squirts madly into his face and knees him in the groin. Without glancing back at him, she runs like she has never run before.
The second her hand reaches the front doorknob, the door opens abruptly and Monica finds herself standing face to face with her brother and his wife. Scared out of her wits, she runs into her sister-in-law's arms.
"Whoa!! Easy there, easy…" Carol coos as she rubs her back soothingly.
"Mon?" Ross asks incredulously at the same time, "What are you doing here?"
"Someone is in the house! Call the police! Someone is in the house!" Ignoring his question, she yells frantically while Carol continues to comfort her.
"Y…you mean Chandler?" Ross stutters, confused over his sister's presence and her dishevelled state.
Disbelievingly, she pushes her sister-in-law away and states, "Why the hell would Chandler be here?"
"I thought I told you before. We're going to have a double date…weekend sort of thing but…" Ross pauses suddenly, hesitant to bring up such a sensitive subject, "Well, you know what happened between him and Grace. We don't want him to be alone so we just told him to come with us anyway."
"Yeah, I told him to come in through the backdoor with the suitcases while Ross and I take a look at the beach." Carol adds points to two small suitcases sitting against the kitchen counter.
"Oh shit!" Monica gasps and puts her hand over her mouth. As she absorbs the fact that she has just clogged, possibly blinded and sterilized one of her best friends, Chandler's painful groans can be heard in the hallway.
Ross and Carol hurry to check him out immediately, leaving a stupefied and a half-naked Monica at the door. Guiltily, and yet sneakily, she slips into her room a few feet away from the "crime scene" in order to put on some clothes.
When she returns, the commotion has already moved from the hallway to the living room. She walks in gingerly, only to see Chandler lying on the couch with Carol wiping his face tenderly while Ross fusses around him with a pack of ice and a pillow. She halts instantaneously.
All the guilt, all the shame, just disappears into thin air as anger and jealousy flood through her body.
What about her? Why are they giving HIM all the attention? She practically went through the same thing he went through! Okay, so she didn't get kicked in the most delicate part of one's body but still…
Her emotional wound is much more severe than his physical pain.
Chandler and Grace weren't even in a committed relationship while she and kip have been seriously dating for more than six months.
"Well, well, well! If it isn't Miss Odour-Out!" Chandler interrupts her thoughts. He stares at her bitterly with only one eye opened.
"Honey, you should thank me! Now you smell like a decent human being AND you're germ-free!" She retorts.
"Monica!" Ross scolds, astonished.
"What?" she glares at her brother, "It was his fault! It is dark outside already and he walked around the house without any lights on! If he didn't scare the hell out of me, then I wouldn't have hit him!"
"Yes, the world revolves around Monica Geller." Anger begins to rise in the pit of his stomach as he shoves Carol's hands away and sits up with immense effort. "Thanks to you, I'll smell like 'Summer Rain' for the rest of my life!"
Monica looks so insulted at his comment that she fires back, "That's 'The Romance of Gardenia'! I would NEVER use 'Summer Rain'!"
"Oh, that makes everything okay then." Ross mumbles to himself. He stops immediately when Carol shushes him, signalling that this is none of his business and she wants to see what happens next.
Chandler stands up and faces her challengingly.
"You owe me an apology." He demands.
"Like hell I do!" she adopts her David-Vs-Goliath look and glance back up at him stubbornly, "You started it first."
She is no longer referring to the 'Lysol' incident anymore. For an instant, Chandler feels sorry for her and actually considers apologizing to her. However, it lasts for only a second before his vanity returns in full force.
Why does she have to win every time?
He lost somebody that has the full potential to be 'the one' for him, somebody that he actually liked and cared for a great deal. Just because they weren't as committed as Monica and Kip does not mean that it didn't hurt.
This is one argument that she can't win. No, he won't let her.
"Look, maybe you live in a perfect world but from where I come from, shit happens. You think I WANTED let my roommate and my girlfriend hook up? Did I jump for joy when you caught them in the act on MY bed? You are not the only injured party here, Monica."
"You shouldn't introduce your slutty girlfriend to my boyfriend in the first place!" Monica counters irrationally.
Full of spite, he retaliates, "Can you BE more selfish? The last time I checked it takes two to tango; and quite frankly, I can see why he strayed. You are so goddamn difficult!"
All three Gellers gasp collectively. As soon as he sees tears forming in her eyes, he wishes he could swallow his words back. Nevertheless, his pride acts like a hard shield around his heart and he cannot, for the life of him, back down now.
Monica cannot believe it. The words themselves don't hurt as much if they didn't come out of his mouth. How can he be so insensitive?
She has to actually remind herself that murder is illegal in all states and its minimum punishment is life in prison in order to keep her self-control in check. She looks at him again only to stare into his stone cold eyes. There is not one bit of emotion in them, just contempt. She cannot restrain herself anymore.
Chandler merely feels the tingly heat on his face when she runs out of the house. It is a while before he realizes that she did indeed slap him and its full impact rushes into his senses all at once.
He rubs his reddened cheek and looks at Ross and Carol shamefully. Not knowing how to deal with the situation, they are looking blankly back at him.
"Well, I guess I deserved that." He mutters and Ross nods sympathetically.
"Ice?" Carol hands him the bag uncomfortably.
* * *
Two and half hours later, Monica comes back downheartedly to the beach house, soaked from head to toe from the pouring rain that sneaked up on her just before she enters the premise.
"Ugh!" She complains as her shoes forms a large puddle on the floor. Instinctively, she takes off her t-shirt to wipe it away.
Then, she carefully waddles into the house only to be confronted by darkness. Relieved at her friends' absence, she heads thoughtlessly straight to the bathroom and opens the door.
For the second time that night, she is yet again terrified by the sight in front of her. Standing before her, like a deer caught in headlight, is Chandler, stark naked Chandler.
"Hey!" Scarlet faced, he covers his privates with the towel.
Dumbfounded, she just keeps staring at him, t-shirt in hand, with her mouth wide open. That's too much Chandler for one day! Even though she is still furious at him, she has to admit that she is pleasantly surprised; but what is that…thingy between his nipples?
As she continues to watch him in scrutiny, Chandler's temper increasingly grows along with embarrassment. It is not that she sees him naked, it is the way she examines him, like he's some kind of freak of nature or something. He has never felt so…violated in all of his twenty-five years.
Unaware of his burgeoning anger, or of the fact she is only in her bra, Monica steps toward him to take a closer look. She is absolutely fascinated.
"Is that a…" she inquires as she points at his supposed 'nubbin'.
"Get out." He warns through his gritted teeth.
"But that's a…"
"GET. OUT." He orders loudly with a menacing tone.
Startled, she pulls her hand away quickly and takes a step back.
"I didn't mean to walk in on you. But Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I'm only in my bra…" she starts to babble away and halts immediately when she notices his expression.
He is deadly serious. If looks could kill, she would've died of the most violent and painful death already.
"Yeah I'll go now." Frightened, she lowers her head and backs out of the room clumsily, hitting the waste bin and the door along the way.
* * *
Fully dressed and somewhat composed, Chandler reluctantly enters the living room. Just as he expected, Monica is slaving away in the kitchen. She knows that he's in the room but was too uncomfortable and angry to acknowledge his presence.
She's now in her PJ's but her hair is still wet.
In an attempt to irritate her, he leans on the counter and observes her silently, knowing fully well that she hates being watched.
"Where is Ross and Carol?" she asks obligatorily, still with her back to him.
"They went back to New York." He replies coldly, "Carol's friend, Susan or something, is in the hospital because she twisted her ankle in the gym."
"She couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Monica thinks aloud and turns around. Her eyes are evidently working hard not to wander lower than his neck.
"Well, they are apparently a lot closer than we think and Ross didn't seem to mind."
"Oh." After an awkward silence, she questions crossly, "Then why are you here? Shouldn't you go back with them or something?"
She can't help it. Whenever she looks at him, she just becomes so…agitated. Their previous encounter does not lessen their tension and hostility at all; it only intensifies it.
"I am here because your brother wants me to be the messenger and to keep an eye on you!" He explains harshly.
"I don't need YOU to take care of me!" she states antagonistically.
"You know what? That's it." He puts up his hands frustratingly before heading to his room.
"What are you doing?" she demands and follows him.
"I am leaving." He declares and picks up his bag, which, in typical Chandler fashion, is still unpacked.
"You are not going anywhere in this weather!" She grabs hold of his bag bossily.
"Beats staying here with you!" he snaps and yanks his hand away from her.
Determinedly, she blocks the hall and says, "If you want go get struck by lightening that's fine. Do it on your own time. But you are not going to do it on my account!"
Upon her remark, he chuckles ironically, "You think too highly of yourself, Monica."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she put her hands on her hips.
"Oh look, I am Monica!" He imitates satirically, "I am the only person that has feelings in the universe! My boyfriend cheated on me; so everyone has to faze him out! And God forbid, Chandler must kick his roommate out no matter how unreasonable that sounds. Why? Because I'm always right!"
Like a heated boiler, she is seething. Once again, she reminds herself that murder is illegal in all states and the minimum sentence is life in prison. In addition, she has to tell herself that he is not worth serving such punishment in order to refrain from causing him bodily harm…again. Nevertheless, her competitive self would NOT let him have the last word.
As a result, she walks toward him so that they are only inches apart and says with an eerie calmness, "Fuck you."
He stares straight into her fiery blue eyes with his own and states challengingly, "Go ahead."
He asked for it.
Before he realizes what is happening, Monica tackles him onto the floor and straddles him. Swiftly, she jams her month onto his.
As his blood quickly flows from his brain to his penis, Chandler is too occupied by lust to think about their actions and he readily succumbs to her sudden ministrations.
Rather than verbal assaults, their tongues are now battling in the most primitive way.
Quite literally, he gives her the "go ahead" to "fuck" him…and so she shall.
* * *
Three condoms later, they lie naked in the middle of the hallway, wrapped contently in each other's arms while their cloths are thrown messily around them. All the pent up hurt and anger are now temporarily out of their minds as they rest in euphoria.
Monica circles her finger around his 'nubbin' and comments giddily, "I didn't know you have a third nipple."
"Trust me, its not something a man should be proud of." Chandler responds casually.
"Why not?" She asks and gently nibbles upon it before concluding, "I think its kind of sexy."
"Yeah well, you are not normal." He looks at her affectionately and continues, "I've never met anyone who ends an argument by having sex…and with ME of all people!" He pauses thoughtfully and then adds, "Gee Mon, you must be really depressed!"
Taking a deep breath, she explains, "I'm not upset over that fact that he cheated on me…" she hesitates when he gives her a doubtful look, and clarifies, "not anymore. I'm just…we've been together for months and whenever I mention the word marriage, he acts like its the end of the world. When he broke up with me, he told me that it wasn't me, it was him. But he's only known Grace for a few weeks and now they're engaged! So it kind of implies that it IS me!"
Chandler takes her hand and kisses her knuckles reassuringly. He plays with those slender fingers for a while and finally confesses, "You know, she is the first woman that I can actually imagine a future with."
Sulkily, she states, "Ugh! I hope they'll get married, have kids, become fat and have to be lifted out of their window by a crane!"
"Don't say that." He chuckles and kisses her forehead, "Look Mon, I don't know how to say this but…well, you don't deserve him. You are a wonderful human being, quite hard to take sometimes, but you don't deserve a cheater. And someday, you are going to meet some guy that truly appreciates you for you and you will wonder why you are so upset now."
She smiles, "You know, you really don't give yourself enough credit."
As a silent 'thank you', she leans up against him and kisses his lips softly. After the feathery kisses ends, she says, "And I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not being fair to you; for being angry at you even though you didn't do anything. I have no right to ask you to kick him out of the apartment when I know it is inconvenient for you…when I know that you couldn't really afford the place all by yourself right now. I'm sorry."
He grins goofily and replies, "Well I wasn't really being fair to you either. So I guess we're even."
They lay peacefully for an undisclosed amount of time. The rain is still pounding the window while the wind howls incessantly. Both of them are thinking about the same thing but are reluctant to ruin their enchanted evening.
"What now?" Monica breaks the silence nervously.
"What what now?" He counters, deliberately delaying the inevitable.
"You know perfectly well what what now." She rolls her eyes, "What are we going to do about us?"
Chandler ponders for a moment and states resolutely, "Let's…let's just leave it be. We are both on the rebound and that's not really a good place to start a relationship right now. Don't get me wrong, I would LOVE to be with you but this is too soon, you know?"
Relieved, Monica let out a sigh. Although being more than friends with Chandler would be wonderful, but they are not emotionally ready to carry this on, not after what happened to both of them. She doesn't want them to be together under these circumstances. The timing is simply wrong.
"Friends?" he asks lightly, as if he can read her thoughts.
She gazes into his eyes, which reflect a comforting reassurance. Through understanding, he silently promises her that he will always be there when she needs him. At that instant, she knows that, lovers or not, they will be friends forever.
"Yeah…Friends." She smirks and settles her head back onto his chest. Another moment of silence ensues.
"Mon?"
"Hum." She responds sleepily.
"Happy Birthday."
April 23, 1993
"…That's why darling, its incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am…unforgettable too…"
Unaware that she is dangerously out of tune, Monica sings, or rather, shouts into the air as she put one of her long legs on the edge of the tub and squeezes soapy water leisurely upon it with a sponge.
She has been in this state for more than an hour now. The water is getting cold and her skin is getting wrinkly but she is reluctant to get out. The way she sees it is that she deserves to behave as self-destructively and as sluttishly as she wishes. What better day to let go of her inhibitions than her birthday?
In fact, she plans to indulge in all seven deadly sins after she finish her bath…that is if she doesn't drown or die of hypothermia first.
Oh who is she kidding? She sighs dejectedly and submerged her head beneath the water.
Another year, another birthday, another failed relationship.
She was a fool to think that her single days are finally over and her plan to be married before the age of 25 might actually be fulfilled…
At the rate she is going, it'd be a long time before she is emotionally well enough to get into another relationship again. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if she is still single when she's forty.
She emerges from the water and rubs her face troublesomely. Is she some kind of a jerk magnet? How come all the men she's gone out with are either alcoholics, people with girlfriends or worst, commitment-phobics? When is she going to form a functional relationship with a responsible adult?
Just when she ponders over the possibility of entering a nunnery, strange footsteps are echoed outside the hall.
What the hell? There is no way her parents would come out here in April at this time of the day.
Alarmingly, she gets out of the tub, wraps a towel around her body and grabs the most effective weapon available in sight: a bottle of Lysol.
She creeps into the hall with the can of air freshener in her hand, ready to spray at whoever it is straight in the eyes. She vaguely reproaches herself for being paranoid. However, her heart is beating so wildly that she can't even tell between the footsteps and the violent thuds against her chest.
Like a bad horror movie comes to life, a startling cold hand settles upon her shoulder and she literally jumps out of her skin. In a moment of blind frenzy, she clogs the intruder in the ribs, squirts madly into his face and knees him in the groin. Without glancing back at him, she runs like she has never run before.
The second her hand reaches the front doorknob, the door opens abruptly and Monica finds herself standing face to face with her brother and his wife. Scared out of her wits, she runs into her sister-in-law's arms.
"Whoa!! Easy there, easy…" Carol coos as she rubs her back soothingly.
"Mon?" Ross asks incredulously at the same time, "What are you doing here?"
"Someone is in the house! Call the police! Someone is in the house!" Ignoring his question, she yells frantically while Carol continues to comfort her.
"Y…you mean Chandler?" Ross stutters, confused over his sister's presence and her dishevelled state.
Disbelievingly, she pushes her sister-in-law away and states, "Why the hell would Chandler be here?"
"I thought I told you before. We're going to have a double date…weekend sort of thing but…" Ross pauses suddenly, hesitant to bring up such a sensitive subject, "Well, you know what happened between him and Grace. We don't want him to be alone so we just told him to come with us anyway."
"Yeah, I told him to come in through the backdoor with the suitcases while Ross and I take a look at the beach." Carol adds points to two small suitcases sitting against the kitchen counter.
"Oh shit!" Monica gasps and puts her hand over her mouth. As she absorbs the fact that she has just clogged, possibly blinded and sterilized one of her best friends, Chandler's painful groans can be heard in the hallway.
Ross and Carol hurry to check him out immediately, leaving a stupefied and a half-naked Monica at the door. Guiltily, and yet sneakily, she slips into her room a few feet away from the "crime scene" in order to put on some clothes.
When she returns, the commotion has already moved from the hallway to the living room. She walks in gingerly, only to see Chandler lying on the couch with Carol wiping his face tenderly while Ross fusses around him with a pack of ice and a pillow. She halts instantaneously.
All the guilt, all the shame, just disappears into thin air as anger and jealousy flood through her body.
What about her? Why are they giving HIM all the attention? She practically went through the same thing he went through! Okay, so she didn't get kicked in the most delicate part of one's body but still…
Her emotional wound is much more severe than his physical pain.
Chandler and Grace weren't even in a committed relationship while she and kip have been seriously dating for more than six months.
"Well, well, well! If it isn't Miss Odour-Out!" Chandler interrupts her thoughts. He stares at her bitterly with only one eye opened.
"Honey, you should thank me! Now you smell like a decent human being AND you're germ-free!" She retorts.
"Monica!" Ross scolds, astonished.
"What?" she glares at her brother, "It was his fault! It is dark outside already and he walked around the house without any lights on! If he didn't scare the hell out of me, then I wouldn't have hit him!"
"Yes, the world revolves around Monica Geller." Anger begins to rise in the pit of his stomach as he shoves Carol's hands away and sits up with immense effort. "Thanks to you, I'll smell like 'Summer Rain' for the rest of my life!"
Monica looks so insulted at his comment that she fires back, "That's 'The Romance of Gardenia'! I would NEVER use 'Summer Rain'!"
"Oh, that makes everything okay then." Ross mumbles to himself. He stops immediately when Carol shushes him, signalling that this is none of his business and she wants to see what happens next.
Chandler stands up and faces her challengingly.
"You owe me an apology." He demands.
"Like hell I do!" she adopts her David-Vs-Goliath look and glance back up at him stubbornly, "You started it first."
She is no longer referring to the 'Lysol' incident anymore. For an instant, Chandler feels sorry for her and actually considers apologizing to her. However, it lasts for only a second before his vanity returns in full force.
Why does she have to win every time?
He lost somebody that has the full potential to be 'the one' for him, somebody that he actually liked and cared for a great deal. Just because they weren't as committed as Monica and Kip does not mean that it didn't hurt.
This is one argument that she can't win. No, he won't let her.
"Look, maybe you live in a perfect world but from where I come from, shit happens. You think I WANTED let my roommate and my girlfriend hook up? Did I jump for joy when you caught them in the act on MY bed? You are not the only injured party here, Monica."
"You shouldn't introduce your slutty girlfriend to my boyfriend in the first place!" Monica counters irrationally.
Full of spite, he retaliates, "Can you BE more selfish? The last time I checked it takes two to tango; and quite frankly, I can see why he strayed. You are so goddamn difficult!"
All three Gellers gasp collectively. As soon as he sees tears forming in her eyes, he wishes he could swallow his words back. Nevertheless, his pride acts like a hard shield around his heart and he cannot, for the life of him, back down now.
Monica cannot believe it. The words themselves don't hurt as much if they didn't come out of his mouth. How can he be so insensitive?
She has to actually remind herself that murder is illegal in all states and its minimum punishment is life in prison in order to keep her self-control in check. She looks at him again only to stare into his stone cold eyes. There is not one bit of emotion in them, just contempt. She cannot restrain herself anymore.
Chandler merely feels the tingly heat on his face when she runs out of the house. It is a while before he realizes that she did indeed slap him and its full impact rushes into his senses all at once.
He rubs his reddened cheek and looks at Ross and Carol shamefully. Not knowing how to deal with the situation, they are looking blankly back at him.
"Well, I guess I deserved that." He mutters and Ross nods sympathetically.
"Ice?" Carol hands him the bag uncomfortably.
* * *
Two and half hours later, Monica comes back downheartedly to the beach house, soaked from head to toe from the pouring rain that sneaked up on her just before she enters the premise.
"Ugh!" She complains as her shoes forms a large puddle on the floor. Instinctively, she takes off her t-shirt to wipe it away.
Then, she carefully waddles into the house only to be confronted by darkness. Relieved at her friends' absence, she heads thoughtlessly straight to the bathroom and opens the door.
For the second time that night, she is yet again terrified by the sight in front of her. Standing before her, like a deer caught in headlight, is Chandler, stark naked Chandler.
"Hey!" Scarlet faced, he covers his privates with the towel.
Dumbfounded, she just keeps staring at him, t-shirt in hand, with her mouth wide open. That's too much Chandler for one day! Even though she is still furious at him, she has to admit that she is pleasantly surprised; but what is that…thingy between his nipples?
As she continues to watch him in scrutiny, Chandler's temper increasingly grows along with embarrassment. It is not that she sees him naked, it is the way she examines him, like he's some kind of freak of nature or something. He has never felt so…violated in all of his twenty-five years.
Unaware of his burgeoning anger, or of the fact she is only in her bra, Monica steps toward him to take a closer look. She is absolutely fascinated.
"Is that a…" she inquires as she points at his supposed 'nubbin'.
"Get out." He warns through his gritted teeth.
"But that's a…"
"GET. OUT." He orders loudly with a menacing tone.
Startled, she pulls her hand away quickly and takes a step back.
"I didn't mean to walk in on you. But Hey! If it makes you feel any better, I'm only in my bra…" she starts to babble away and halts immediately when she notices his expression.
He is deadly serious. If looks could kill, she would've died of the most violent and painful death already.
"Yeah I'll go now." Frightened, she lowers her head and backs out of the room clumsily, hitting the waste bin and the door along the way.
* * *
Fully dressed and somewhat composed, Chandler reluctantly enters the living room. Just as he expected, Monica is slaving away in the kitchen. She knows that he's in the room but was too uncomfortable and angry to acknowledge his presence.
She's now in her PJ's but her hair is still wet.
In an attempt to irritate her, he leans on the counter and observes her silently, knowing fully well that she hates being watched.
"Where is Ross and Carol?" she asks obligatorily, still with her back to him.
"They went back to New York." He replies coldly, "Carol's friend, Susan or something, is in the hospital because she twisted her ankle in the gym."
"She couldn't wait until tomorrow?" Monica thinks aloud and turns around. Her eyes are evidently working hard not to wander lower than his neck.
"Well, they are apparently a lot closer than we think and Ross didn't seem to mind."
"Oh." After an awkward silence, she questions crossly, "Then why are you here? Shouldn't you go back with them or something?"
She can't help it. Whenever she looks at him, she just becomes so…agitated. Their previous encounter does not lessen their tension and hostility at all; it only intensifies it.
"I am here because your brother wants me to be the messenger and to keep an eye on you!" He explains harshly.
"I don't need YOU to take care of me!" she states antagonistically.
"You know what? That's it." He puts up his hands frustratingly before heading to his room.
"What are you doing?" she demands and follows him.
"I am leaving." He declares and picks up his bag, which, in typical Chandler fashion, is still unpacked.
"You are not going anywhere in this weather!" She grabs hold of his bag bossily.
"Beats staying here with you!" he snaps and yanks his hand away from her.
Determinedly, she blocks the hall and says, "If you want go get struck by lightening that's fine. Do it on your own time. But you are not going to do it on my account!"
Upon her remark, he chuckles ironically, "You think too highly of yourself, Monica."
"What is that supposed to mean?" she put her hands on her hips.
"Oh look, I am Monica!" He imitates satirically, "I am the only person that has feelings in the universe! My boyfriend cheated on me; so everyone has to faze him out! And God forbid, Chandler must kick his roommate out no matter how unreasonable that sounds. Why? Because I'm always right!"
Like a heated boiler, she is seething. Once again, she reminds herself that murder is illegal in all states and the minimum sentence is life in prison. In addition, she has to tell herself that he is not worth serving such punishment in order to refrain from causing him bodily harm…again. Nevertheless, her competitive self would NOT let him have the last word.
As a result, she walks toward him so that they are only inches apart and says with an eerie calmness, "Fuck you."
He stares straight into her fiery blue eyes with his own and states challengingly, "Go ahead."
He asked for it.
Before he realizes what is happening, Monica tackles him onto the floor and straddles him. Swiftly, she jams her month onto his.
As his blood quickly flows from his brain to his penis, Chandler is too occupied by lust to think about their actions and he readily succumbs to her sudden ministrations.
Rather than verbal assaults, their tongues are now battling in the most primitive way.
Quite literally, he gives her the "go ahead" to "fuck" him…and so she shall.
* * *
Three condoms later, they lie naked in the middle of the hallway, wrapped contently in each other's arms while their cloths are thrown messily around them. All the pent up hurt and anger are now temporarily out of their minds as they rest in euphoria.
Monica circles her finger around his 'nubbin' and comments giddily, "I didn't know you have a third nipple."
"Trust me, its not something a man should be proud of." Chandler responds casually.
"Why not?" She asks and gently nibbles upon it before concluding, "I think its kind of sexy."
"Yeah well, you are not normal." He looks at her affectionately and continues, "I've never met anyone who ends an argument by having sex…and with ME of all people!" He pauses thoughtfully and then adds, "Gee Mon, you must be really depressed!"
Taking a deep breath, she explains, "I'm not upset over that fact that he cheated on me…" she hesitates when he gives her a doubtful look, and clarifies, "not anymore. I'm just…we've been together for months and whenever I mention the word marriage, he acts like its the end of the world. When he broke up with me, he told me that it wasn't me, it was him. But he's only known Grace for a few weeks and now they're engaged! So it kind of implies that it IS me!"
Chandler takes her hand and kisses her knuckles reassuringly. He plays with those slender fingers for a while and finally confesses, "You know, she is the first woman that I can actually imagine a future with."
Sulkily, she states, "Ugh! I hope they'll get married, have kids, become fat and have to be lifted out of their window by a crane!"
"Don't say that." He chuckles and kisses her forehead, "Look Mon, I don't know how to say this but…well, you don't deserve him. You are a wonderful human being, quite hard to take sometimes, but you don't deserve a cheater. And someday, you are going to meet some guy that truly appreciates you for you and you will wonder why you are so upset now."
She smiles, "You know, you really don't give yourself enough credit."
As a silent 'thank you', she leans up against him and kisses his lips softly. After the feathery kisses ends, she says, "And I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not being fair to you; for being angry at you even though you didn't do anything. I have no right to ask you to kick him out of the apartment when I know it is inconvenient for you…when I know that you couldn't really afford the place all by yourself right now. I'm sorry."
He grins goofily and replies, "Well I wasn't really being fair to you either. So I guess we're even."
They lay peacefully for an undisclosed amount of time. The rain is still pounding the window while the wind howls incessantly. Both of them are thinking about the same thing but are reluctant to ruin their enchanted evening.
"What now?" Monica breaks the silence nervously.
"What what now?" He counters, deliberately delaying the inevitable.
"You know perfectly well what what now." She rolls her eyes, "What are we going to do about us?"
Chandler ponders for a moment and states resolutely, "Let's…let's just leave it be. We are both on the rebound and that's not really a good place to start a relationship right now. Don't get me wrong, I would LOVE to be with you but this is too soon, you know?"
Relieved, Monica let out a sigh. Although being more than friends with Chandler would be wonderful, but they are not emotionally ready to carry this on, not after what happened to both of them. She doesn't want them to be together under these circumstances. The timing is simply wrong.
"Friends?" he asks lightly, as if he can read her thoughts.
She gazes into his eyes, which reflect a comforting reassurance. Through understanding, he silently promises her that he will always be there when she needs him. At that instant, she knows that, lovers or not, they will be friends forever.
"Yeah…Friends." She smirks and settles her head back onto his chest. Another moment of silence ensues.
"Mon?"
"Hum." She responds sleepily.
"Happy Birthday."
