Author's Note- Part Three! We are finally getting into the first season! Yay! Note that some elements of this story follows the actual show while others don't. Just think of it as an alternate universe, okay? Anyway, I have get the legal stuff out of the way...the characters are not mine...and you know the rest. Seriously, I am getting tired of this. If I own these characters, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction, I would be writing for the show...okay, I am babbling. Its one o'clock in the morning and I am babbling...yeah I'll stop so that you can get on with the story.

Oh, I think this part is rated more R than PG-13...but its all in good fun. Once again, I would like to thank Jjaks for his help. All the actually-funny lines belong to him. The try-to-be-funny-but-not-really-nailing-it lines are mine.

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Part Three

April 23, 1995

Why is he torturing himself like this?

Chandler twists his pen thoughtlessly as he stares at meaningless numbers on his computer screen. He takes a look around his cubicle, which, to him, is just a padded cell without a door, and slams his pen on the table. This isn't an office; this is Hell with fluorescent lighting!

He could be out on the beach, making love to the sexiest woman he knows in real life.

Then what the hell is he doing here?

Chandler stands up abruptly and begins to gather his stuff. He's out of here.

"Don't even think about it buddy...for your sanity's sake, don't even go there." He pauses in mid action when an inner voice warns him. Funny, he doesn't know that his conscience is Hindu…

Besides, she probably forgets all about the pact already. If she doesn't, then she most likely changes her mind about it anyway. For she never mention the subject again after their second rendezvous. In fact, she acts like nothing has happened and treats him the same way as she did before.

In fact, he only remembers their agreement a week ago when Rachel mentioned something about buying a present for Monica's birthday. Since then, all of his angsts just came flooding back, pressuring him to make and stick to a very difficult decision.

In a futile attempt to forget what this day could've been and do the wise thing, he slumps back down on his chair and unenthusiastically gets back to his WENUS.

Not even five minutes have passed before he abandons his work for something much more interesting: the "primitive" web. Nonetheless, as he surfs through the porn world under his fingertips, every stimulating image of unfamiliar women seems to magically transform into a very exotic Monica. Automatically, the words birthday, beaches and sex causes certain part of his body to protest against his decision.

"Stop it Chandler! Stop it!" he shakes his head wildly and reproaches himself.

As a result of his sudden psychotic outburst, many heads of curious co-workers pop up over the walls of their cubicle, in manner of prairie dogs, to see what's going on.

An ohnosecond, that miniscule fraction of time where he realizes that he has just made a HUGE fool of himself, passes before he looks around and grins stupidly.

"I just had a schizophrenic episode…" he jokes casually, "...we're okay now."

Quite pathetically, they all nod indifferently and return to their own boredom. It is no wonder why he hates this job. After five years, he'd think he would be doing something important by now. Oh well, he thought he wanted a career, turns out that he just wanted the increasing paycheques.

Dejectedly, he plops his head on his hand and let his mind wanders away again.

Who, besides Joey, would've thought that Carol is a lesbian?

Poor Ross. There is nothing more insulting to one's manhood than having his wife leaving him for another woman. But then again, how could he not see the signs? Surely he must have sense that she has a tendency to "bat for the other team". He must have caught her checking out other women at some point or another; and all the trips to the "gym" with Susan…could he BE any less oblivious?

On a somewhat brighter note, Ross is going to be a father.

A shudder runs through Chandler's body just thinking about how this kid would turn out. Hell, he would know. He has a father who runs a club named "Viva Las Gaygas" and goes by the name: Helena...or Madonna...sometimes Isabella or Penelope, Diana and Olivia.

In addition, as if there aren't enough problems already, now his friend spends day after day pining for Rachel, his former high school crush, who is too busy trying to do the whole independent thing to notice him as more than a friend.

Chandler never thought that his friend would end up like this. Between the two of them, Ross is always the more responsible man. It is scary to think that someone who works so damn hard to achieve his dreams would still get the shaft in the end.

For a brief moment, his thoughts linger on Rachel. He can't help but smirks smugly and pats himself on the back every time he thinks about her. Not only did his prediction about her nuptial come true, but it never even happened at all. She ran out on her own wedding in the last minute and sought refugee at Monica's apartment.

If only Phoebe knew about his incredible psychic abilities…

A shrilling ring of the phone interrupts his pointless "mind-trip". After a few clumsy attempts, he finally manages to picks up the receiver.

"Chandler Bing." He answers robotically.

"Times up, Bing." A sexy voice murmurs into his ear.

"Hey mom." He greets half-heartedly, barely holding back a sigh, "How are you?"

"I don't know about your mom but I really, really miss the Chan-love." the voice says huskily.

His eyes snaps wide opened and hangs up the phone immediately.

Jesus Christ!

She remembers. Those two little words keeps replaying themselves in his brain over and over again.

She remembers and she still hasn't changed her mind.

Like waiting for a bomb to detonate, Chandler stares at the phone warily. Just as he expected, it rings again. He swallows hardly as he puts his hand on the receiver. This is it. This is the time to practice random acts of intelligence and senseless acts of self-control.
Gingerly, he picks the phone up again. However, his throat suddenly becomes so dry that he can't even utter a word.

"I am waiting for you…" Monica says seductively.

"Not now Monica, I am working." He informs her as coolly as he can, hardly recognizing his own voice.

"Doing what? Playing Tetris?" she teases.

"It is not just regular Tetris, it is super Tetris!" he babbles.

"Now why would you wanna do that when you can come here and play with me?" She giggles, obviously enjoying this immensely. She had already learned from past experiences that there is nothing more entertaining than making Chandler squirm.

"You are not being fair!" he whispers desperately.

"Who says anything about being fair? Just because I said I'll understand doesn't mean that I'm not going to try."

"I am not going to jeopardize our friendship again. Friends just don't fuck around with other friends!" He states firmly as stubbornness slowly rears its head and adds as an afterthought, "Not unless those friends are habitual drug users."

"Guess what I am wearing now." She ignores his comments and continues to entice him.

"What?" As soon as the word leaves his month, he knows that he's made a wrong move.

"Chanel # 5...and nothing more."

Eyes closed tightly, Chandler puts the phone on his shoulder and mouths "Oh my God!" in astonishment. Somehow, his hand is working against his will as it raises the phone back to his ears involuntarily. That burgeoning stubbornness is crudely replaced by something else, something much powerful that intelligence and self-control: Lust.

Knowing that he is on the verge of breaking, Monica licks her lips and asks, "And guess what else I have in the fridge?"

"B…Ben & Jerry's?" he stutters, his hand starts to shake as his heart is torn between his brain and his crotch. There is only so much a man can take.

"Mmmmm yeah…" she moans, "and I am going to do much more than just eating it."

"Mon, don't do this to me." He pleads as he discreetly covers the apparent bulge in his pants under the desk when a female co-worker passes by and gives him a strange look.

"But I can't stop thinking about you. God, my nipples get hard just thinking about you…I miss having your hands on me, touching me, fondling me…"

Frustratingly, he bangs his head on the table.

"What's the matter?" she asks with feigned innocence upon hearing the sound of his head hitting the keyboard and continues temptingly, "Awww…why don't you come on over and I'll do something about that hard-on of yours."

Suddenly, he looks up from the keyboard. Annoyance and anger unexpectedly kick in from out of nowhere. Is this all just some kind of competition to her? Would she do anything just to get him to cave? No, he will certainly NOT give her the satisfaction.

"Listen to me woman," he musters up all the determination he has and declares, "I am not coming and that's the end of the story!"

With that, he hangs up on Monica the second time that day.

* * *

Monica looks at the phone and laughs lightly. It is only a matter of time before he gives in. She knows him.

As her hand lingers on the receiver, she wonders if she should call and harass him again. After a moment of hesitation, she decides to leave him in peace for a while. As much fun as it was annoying him, she knows when to stop. Besides, the most important part of the game is accomplished: he knows what day this is, he's reminded of the pact and he now knows what she wants. It is only a matter of time…

* * *

Is she KIDDING him with this?

Chandler muses as the once incredibly dull phone rings for the third time in ten minutes. He yanks the receiver up edgily. He has had enough.

"No, I am still not coming and for the love of God I don't care how hard your nipples are!! Now leave me the hell alone!"

"Dude! I thought you said data processing is boring!" another familiar voice, one that isn't Monica's, exclaims.

"Joey?" Chandler can actually feel his face going red. He didn't see that one coming.

"Have you been lying to me all along?" his friend demands exaggeratingly, "You're not really a data processor, are you?"

"What? No!" he clarifies hurriedly, "Some delusional chick was prank calling me and it got really annoying, that's all."

"Riiight…she was 'prank calling' you." Joey says disbelievingly, "That's okay, I completely understand. The little general didn't get much exercise lately uh?"

"Joey, its not what you think…"

"Of course it isn't!" he interrupts, "I'm a man too! Hell, I call those numbers all the time!"

"So that's why our phone bill is os high!" Chandler concludes accusingly, trying to change the subject.

Unfortunately, Joey's sick mind can't not be deterred as he continues his speech understandingly, "You don't have to be ashamed, Chandler. We all have urges and sometimes we just have to find alternate relief when the real thing is far from available. It is perfectly normal..."

"Why are you calling me Joe?" he asks wearily. Of all the things he has learned in the past two years, going along with his not-so-bright friend is one of them. It certainly makes life a lot easier sometimes.

"Oh, I just want to tell you that I won't be home tonight…I've got a hot date…Twins!!" Joey says excitedly.

"So? You go on dates every night." Chandler states dejectedly. It certainly sucks to listen to his oversexed roommate does the horizontal mambo with extremely loud women at night.

Overall, it just sucks to be him.

"Well, since I'm not going to see Mon tonight, I want you to wish her a happy birthday for me."

"What makes you think that I'm going to see her tonight?" Paranoid, he asks a little too quickly.

"Because you guys see each other every night…you ARE going to see her tonight though, right?" Joey questions obliviously. Unwittingly, he has asks the same question that has been troubling his roommate for quite some time now.

"I don't know, Man. I want to but…" Chandler begins to reply forlornly before covering up immediately, "Uh, I mean, I heard that she's going away for the day."

"O…kay." Joey says, a little bit more confused than usual, and adds, "Just tell her if you see her then."

"Will do." He responds with fake enthusiasm.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then. Now, Big Daddy's got some big business to attend to." Without waiting for his friend to say goodbye, Joey hangs up eagerly.

After their conversation, Chandler leans back into his chair and stares pensively at his computer screen, which still features the lovely, but to him, meaningless playmate of the year.

Lost in thought, he stays that way for a long while until he's jerked back into reality by Doug's boastful voice.

"Bing!" he hollers.

"Heyee...Doug!" he hollers back in his best work holler after quickly fixing his computer screen.

"You're in luck today." Doug says pompously and shoves a ticket at him.

Puzzled, he looks at the ticket and literally shudders. Just the words, "Michael Flatley, Lord of the Dance" alone scare the bejeezus out of him, let alone actually watching the guy's legs flailing about as if they're independent of his body.

Thankfully, his boss is too self-absorbed to notice his reaction and goes on, "I was gonna go with my wife but apparently, the guy freaks her out..."

At this point, he can't help but to chuckle at the irony of the situation.

"I know!" Doug says obliviously, thinking that he's laughing his wife's silliness, "Who would've thought that Irish wuss can freak anybody out?"

Uncomfortably, Chandler doesn't say anything and goes into his full work-laugh mode.

"I...I don't know what to say." He finally chokes out, "Thank you...I guess."

"Just have fun tonight." he says and with a knowing wink, he adds, "By the way, I gave the other ticket to Brian in Payroll...you can thank me again later."

After he gives his favorite employee a slap in the ass, Doug strides back into his office proudly, satisfied with his intuition and ability in matchmaking.

Dumbfounded, Chandler stands motionless in the sea of padded cells with doors, still holding the Michael Flatley ticket. This day just keeps getting worst and worst. Finally, he takes one look at the ticket and immediately comes to a conclusion...

To Hell with random acts of intelligence and senseless acts of self-control.

* * *

He's not coming.

Monica shoves the last spoonful of ice cream into her mouth depressingly. It is now thirteen after six, she has just finished her Ben & Jerry's and there is still no sign of Chandler.

That bastard. She throws her spoon into the carton box, pissed. Since when did he have a conscience?

However, she has to give him credit for being so levelheaded. Maybe she went about this all wrong…maybe she shouldn't have pressured him in the first place. Who would have thought that Chandler could be so stubborn? She never thought that it could be such a big turn on. Now she wants him all the more.

She winces as a sudden stab of pain shoots through her brain.

"Owww! Brain-freeze!" she complains and she rubs her temples gently.

That son of a bitch! She scolds him mentally as she leans against her couch and closes her eyes. She should've just gone along and let Phoebe put a curse on him last week. Hell, she would put a curse on him right now if she knows how to do it.

A soft knock on the door interrupts her bitter thoughts. She opens one eye to take a quick glance at the door and takes in a quick breath.

There he is, standing on the other side of the door with his hands resting upon the glass longingly.

All the resentful thoughts about him fade away as soon as she locks eyes with him.

She was right about him after all…she knew he would come.

A small smile involuntarily takes over her face as she slowly walks toward the door and puts one hand on the glass where his is positioned, all the while never breaking eye-contact with him.

Chandler looks at their hands. All the doubts, all the potential problems surrounding their affair instantaneously melt away and all he wants to do now is to make passionate love to his best friend.

"You are supposed to be naked." He comments lightly, although the atmosphere around them is anything but light.

"I thought you weren't coming." She states, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.

"Well, I changed my mind." He says softly.

"And I put my clothes on." She counters.

"Aren't you going to open the door?"

"I don't know, should I?" she is giving him his last chance to back out of the deal.

"I think its imperative that you do." He whispers huskily.

Monica bites her bottom lips and traces the outline of his hand with fake indecisiveness.

"Hmmm…I'm afraid you're too late, Chandler. Ben & Jerry and I have already worn each other out." She says mischievously. It is payback time.

"Mon, you are such a tease." He objects. Man! She is driving him crazy in that t-shirt of hers.

"Well, you hang up on me. A girl's gotta do something…" she trails off playfully.

"Mon, sweetie," he says tactfully, "open that door and I'll show you how sorry I REALLY am."

Obediently, she puts all pretence aside and opens the door eagerly. However, as soon as there is nothing standing in between them anymore, they find themselves rooted to the spot, fearing that they'll lose complete control if either party makes the slightest bit of movement.

In the end, it is Monica who makes the first move. She steps toward him and caresses his cheek gently. She looks up at him, getting lost in his deep blue eyes before standing on her toes and kisses his lips tenderly.

Her lips send Chandler into a frenzy as he grabs her waists tightly and backs her up against the wall.

She moans and runs her hands through his hair as he pushes his tongue into her mouth, while welcoming the arousing sensation his hand is creating under her shirt.

They have both waited a whole year for this…and being in each other's arms again feel much more intense than either of them can remember or anticipated.

* * *

Pinned between the wall and Chandler, it is a long while after their heated climax before Monica returns to Earth. It takes another brief moment before she can move her legs that dangles on either side of Chandler's waist. She can feel his breath on her neck and it makes her shiver all over.

"Alright, whatever nasty thoughts I had about you, I take it back…so, UN-screw you." She jokes lightly. When he doesn't respond to her, she slides her leg up and down, feeling the silky fabric of his trousers and comments giddily, "You didn't even take your pants off."

Silently, he gazes into her eyes tenderly before giving her soft kisses on her forehead, on her cheeks and finally on her lips. Afterward, he carries her to the room, lays her down on the bed and covers her up with a blanket. He, on the other hand, lies on top of the quilt and wraps his arms around her from behind.

They stay like this for a long time, neither one of them wants to break the sudden intimacy that envelops them.

"What made you change your mind?" she finally asks.

"Joey wants me to wish you a happy birthday." He replies after a brief moment of deliberation.

He really doesn't know why he's here. On the way to the beach house, his mind advised him repeatedly to do the right thing but his will, along with his penis, told him that this IS the right thing. He just happened to follow wherever it was pointing.

"And my sexy phone call had nothing to do with it?"

"Nope." He lies and kisses the nape of her neck and hugs her a little tighter.

"Ummm…" she ponders, "I see Joey's finally done something right. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

"You didn't give me any choice there, did ya?" he asks sarcastically.

"Hey, I didn't point a gun to your head…you came anyway." She banters playfully.

"In more ways than one, yes." He raises his eyebrows suggestively.

She giggles, turns around and begins to undo his tie but he puts out a hand to stop her.

"Do you want to tell me why we're doing this again?" he asks with a serious expression, as if he wants her to reassure him that they are doing the right thing and this affair will all turn out okay in the end.

"I want to feel your arms around me, like this." She explains with certainty, "I love feeling your lips on me and I want to feel you inside of me…but I don't want to risk the chance of losing you altogether, Chandler, and…this is the only way to have it all. Do you understand?"

He stares at her quietly before finally nodding and giving in to her. This is an incredibly selfish reason to continue an affair but he doesn't complain. How could he? This is Monica he's talking about! Besides, he always has a soft spot for her.

Nevertheless, he can't help but feels like he's just committed love suicide...

"We really should even things out." Changing the subject, he resumes her work as he yanks his tie away forcefully.

Relieved, Monica smiles and gives him a hand in removing his clothes. She runs her hands across his chests and starts to kiss him, hard.

Half way into the kiss, Chandler halts suddenly and asks, "Did I get to wish you a happy birthday?"

"You don't have to Chandler." She smiles and kisses the tip of his nose, "I already am."

* * *

And that's it for 1995!

I'll be back with 1996 probably after November...after all the mid-term craps are out of the way. Please review this story, I'd appreciate it very, very much. If you have any suggestions, feel free to write me at mondler@hotmail.com...

Another thing, a lot of people have been asking me if I am continuing Lost and Found. The answer is yes, I WILL finish the story but right now I am not really depressed enough to write it. Maybe after the mid-terms, when I am kicked out of Engineering then I'll finish it...school sucks....but seriously, I will continue that series once I have more time in my hands.