"So I'm going back out to Montauk next weekend, any of you guys want to
come?" Phoebe asked the following morning, standing to carry her plate over
to the sink.
"No thanks," Chandler, Joey and Monica mumbled, still recovering from the trauma of the jellyfish incident.
"Oh, come on," Ross objected from his seat on the couch, where he was stretched out reading the Sunday paper. "It's not like it could happen again. The odds are astronomical."
"Ross, she got stung by a jellyfish, not hit by a meteor," Joey said, shoving another bite of waffle into his mouth.
Ross looked momentarily nonplussed. Monica stifled a smile and began clearing the rest of the plates.
"Well, maybe this time, you could be prepared." Phoebe picked up an empty carton of orange juice, waving it around in front of Chandler. "Fill her up?" He batted the carton away in disgust.
"That's very funny, Phoebe," Monica said sourly, beginning to rinse the breakfast dishes.
"I thought so!" Smiling, Phoebe wandered into the living room and took a seat on the end of the couch. "It would save Chandler a lot of embarrassment."
"Hey, I'll have you know there was plenty of embarrassment to go around," Chandler muttered, lifting his glass of orange juice and then grimacing at the yellow liquid.
"I think I'm over it," Joey announced, chewing noisily.
"Close your mouth, man," Chandler told him. "And that's just because all you did was dig that stupid hole."
"Bet you weren't thinking it was so stupid when you were in there… doing stuff," Joey told him, finally swallowing.
The telephone rang shrilly on the end table, and Phoebe reached over to answer it. "Hello, Monica and Rachel's… oh, hey Rach!" On the couch beside her, Ross made a face and buried his head in the paper again.
A few minutes later, Joey had left the apartment to get showered and dressed, while Ross was engrossed in the Opinion pages and Phoebe was still chattering a mile a minute with Rachel. Chandler took the opportunity to sidle up to Monica, who was wiping the kitchen counter.
"Hey," he said quietly, quickly checking that no one was watching them.
She glanced up at him briefly, her smile just this side of shy. "Hi. Like the waffles?"
"Yeah, they were great. We should let you make breakfast more often."
Laughing a little, she hit him lightly on the arm. "You guys would starve if I wasn't around."
"We wouldn't starve, we'd just live off of Rachel's chewing gum and Phoebe's cookies… and of course, pizza."
"In other words, like you were still in college." She rolled her eyes a little.
"Yeah, or… pretty much any time before that. My mother wasn't much of a Martha Stewart. I think most nights I had TV dinners."
"What every growing boy needs."
He grinned slowly, and she suddenly realized how close he was. Too close.
"Chandler, Ross and Phoebe are right here," she said in a low voice, dropping her eyes to the counter.
"Relax, they're not paying attention. I just wanted to ask you…"
She glanced up at him. "Yeah?"
He was wearing a nervous smile, and she found herself melting. What the hell was happening? Two days ago, if he'd been this close to her, she would have told him to get out of her personal space. And now it was… it was… changed.
"If you wanted to, ah, go out sometime," he finished quietly.
Her eyes widened. She honestly hadn't expected that. "Like a date?"
"Oh, is that what they're calling it nowadays?"
She gave him a look. "Chandler. We can't… date. It would be weird."
"Oh, but basically giving me permission to count each of your teeth with my tongue wasn't?"
"Sssh!" He hadn't been speaking loudly, but she smacked his arm all the same.
He rolled his eyes. "Sorry," he hissed, in an exaggerated whisper.
She couldn't help smiling. He hadn't showered yet, and he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, hair rumpled and t-shirt and pajama pants wrinkled. "You're cute," she told him.
He leaned against the counter, and his eyes were bright with amusement. "So cute you might want to go out with me?"
She tilted her head to the side, biting her lip as she considered. "Okay. One date. But nobody can know."
"Well, I already told Joey, but…"
"What?!" She glared up at him.
He flashed her a triumphant smile. "I had you."
Her shoulders dropped in relief. "Chandler, I swear…" She let her threat trail away, momentarily distracted by how blue his eyes were. He had really pretty eyes, she thought. Long lashes. Why did guys always have such great lashes?
"Monica, you're staring," he accused softly. Before she could even register what was happening, he'd leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. Straightening up, he grinned down at her and said, "Oops, sorry. I forgot that would be inappropriate."
She just looked at him, speechless.
"Hey, I should get going. I'll meet you down at Central Perk tonight at eight, okay? Dress up."
And then he was gone, leaving her staring after him – her mouth hanging slightly open, and her mind racing a mile a minute.
--
"Monica, are you here?"
The faint call from the living room startled her, and her head snapped up in alarm. What was she doing here? And what kind of question was that? All of her friends practically lived here.
Sighing, Monica dropped the dress onto her bed, smoothing her hair and trying to look casual. "I'm in the bedroom, Phoebe, um… I'll be out in a second!"
It was later that night, and Monica had already showered and done her hair and make-up. Now she was dressed in her robe, frantically flinging her clothes from one end of her closet to the other. She'd already decided on – and discarded – four outfits. Everything was either too little or too much. Too plain or too sexy. This was Chandler! She was dressing up for Chandler! The world had gone mad.
There was a cursory knock on the door before Phoebe stuck her head in. "Hey, I was wondering if… whoa." Her friend's eyes widened as she surveyed the room, and Monica winced.
"Mon, your room is a disaster area. What are you doing?"
"I, ah… I…"
"Monica, do you have a date?" Phoebe asked curiously, coming the rest of the way in and taking notice of her friend's sleek hairstyle and made up face.
"Uh, yeah," Monica admitted, realizing the evidence was too incriminating to plausibly deny it.
"You didn't tell me that. Who's the guy?" Phoebe began picking up the discarded outfits on her bed, examining them.
"Just a guy. From work. A work guy."
"Really? What's his name?"
"Uh…" Monica's eyes fell on a designer Ralph Lauren scarf she'd borrowed from Rachel. "Ralph."
"Ralph?" Phoebe's nose wrinkled. "You have a date with a guy named Ralph?"
"Yup! Ralph's my date." She took her black miniskirt out of the closet and held it up in front of her, frowning. "What do you think?"
"Where's he taking you?"
"I don't know. He just said to dress up."
"Ooh, a surprise." Phoebe smiled appreciatively. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen your room like this. You must really want to make an impression."
"Yeah, something like that," Monica said vaguely. She flipped through the blouses hanging at one end of her closet. "What do you think about the skirt?"
"I don't know…" Phoebe said doubtfully. "Maybe you should borrow something from Rachel." She tossed the dress back on the bed and headed toward the door. "C'mon, let's go see what she's got."
Great. Rachel's clothes tended to be even sluttier than her own. Monica sighed and trailed her friend into the other bedroom.
Ten minutes later she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her room, appraising herself. Phoebe had found a navy blue slip dress that hung to mid-thigh on Rachel, but was just a little longer on her. It had a metallic sheen to it that brought out her eyes and set off her dark hair nicely. She spun around, checking the dress out from all angles. She had to admit, she looked good. Classy, but guaranteed to make Chandler's eyes pop out of his head a little.
She hoped. Maybe.
Shoving her wallet and keys into the small matching purse and trying not to think too much about the evening that lay ahead, Monica hurried back out into the living room. Phoebe was standing at the kitchen counter, flipping through Rachel's latest issue of Glamour and munching on a cookie.
"So what are you going to do tonight?" Monica asked, bending over to adjust one of her heels.
"Probably just hang out with Joey. Ross has Ben, Chandler's not home and Rachel won't be back till late." Phoebe shrugged. "Hey, you look great. Ralph's not gonna know what hit him."
Ralph. She'd have to tell Chandler that; she was sure he'd get a kick out of it. And speaking of Chandler… if Phoebe said he wasn't home, he must already be down at the coffee house. She threw an anxious look at the clock. 7:59.
"Okay, Phoebs. You be good and have fun with Joey; I'll be back late so don't wait up." She smiled nervously as she spritzed on some perfume.
"Okay, Mom," Phoebe said good-naturedly. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Or would."
"Uh huh." Monica tossed the perfume bottle back into her purse, giving her a wry look and a little wave. "See ya Phoebs."
"Have fun!" Phoebe called, as the door swung shut behind her.
Fun, right. Monica was utterly terrified. They shouldn't be doing this. This was crossing the line. Okay, so maybe the kissing had been crossing the line too, but that had been spontaneous. Sort of. The first five or six or… nine or ten times.
This, however… this was premeditated. Planned. An actual social outing wherein she and Chandler would be perceived as a couple.
God.
Hurrying down the staircase toward Central Perk, Monica crossed her fingers and silently prayed that she would make it through the night.
--
AN: The feedback so far is really amazing, thank you guys for your comments, and I'll take all the constructive criticism I can get, lol. Who else liked tonight's Friends episode? I thought it was really sweet. I guess it inspired me to finish this chapter right away!
"No thanks," Chandler, Joey and Monica mumbled, still recovering from the trauma of the jellyfish incident.
"Oh, come on," Ross objected from his seat on the couch, where he was stretched out reading the Sunday paper. "It's not like it could happen again. The odds are astronomical."
"Ross, she got stung by a jellyfish, not hit by a meteor," Joey said, shoving another bite of waffle into his mouth.
Ross looked momentarily nonplussed. Monica stifled a smile and began clearing the rest of the plates.
"Well, maybe this time, you could be prepared." Phoebe picked up an empty carton of orange juice, waving it around in front of Chandler. "Fill her up?" He batted the carton away in disgust.
"That's very funny, Phoebe," Monica said sourly, beginning to rinse the breakfast dishes.
"I thought so!" Smiling, Phoebe wandered into the living room and took a seat on the end of the couch. "It would save Chandler a lot of embarrassment."
"Hey, I'll have you know there was plenty of embarrassment to go around," Chandler muttered, lifting his glass of orange juice and then grimacing at the yellow liquid.
"I think I'm over it," Joey announced, chewing noisily.
"Close your mouth, man," Chandler told him. "And that's just because all you did was dig that stupid hole."
"Bet you weren't thinking it was so stupid when you were in there… doing stuff," Joey told him, finally swallowing.
The telephone rang shrilly on the end table, and Phoebe reached over to answer it. "Hello, Monica and Rachel's… oh, hey Rach!" On the couch beside her, Ross made a face and buried his head in the paper again.
A few minutes later, Joey had left the apartment to get showered and dressed, while Ross was engrossed in the Opinion pages and Phoebe was still chattering a mile a minute with Rachel. Chandler took the opportunity to sidle up to Monica, who was wiping the kitchen counter.
"Hey," he said quietly, quickly checking that no one was watching them.
She glanced up at him briefly, her smile just this side of shy. "Hi. Like the waffles?"
"Yeah, they were great. We should let you make breakfast more often."
Laughing a little, she hit him lightly on the arm. "You guys would starve if I wasn't around."
"We wouldn't starve, we'd just live off of Rachel's chewing gum and Phoebe's cookies… and of course, pizza."
"In other words, like you were still in college." She rolled her eyes a little.
"Yeah, or… pretty much any time before that. My mother wasn't much of a Martha Stewart. I think most nights I had TV dinners."
"What every growing boy needs."
He grinned slowly, and she suddenly realized how close he was. Too close.
"Chandler, Ross and Phoebe are right here," she said in a low voice, dropping her eyes to the counter.
"Relax, they're not paying attention. I just wanted to ask you…"
She glanced up at him. "Yeah?"
He was wearing a nervous smile, and she found herself melting. What the hell was happening? Two days ago, if he'd been this close to her, she would have told him to get out of her personal space. And now it was… it was… changed.
"If you wanted to, ah, go out sometime," he finished quietly.
Her eyes widened. She honestly hadn't expected that. "Like a date?"
"Oh, is that what they're calling it nowadays?"
She gave him a look. "Chandler. We can't… date. It would be weird."
"Oh, but basically giving me permission to count each of your teeth with my tongue wasn't?"
"Sssh!" He hadn't been speaking loudly, but she smacked his arm all the same.
He rolled his eyes. "Sorry," he hissed, in an exaggerated whisper.
She couldn't help smiling. He hadn't showered yet, and he looked like he'd just rolled out of bed, hair rumpled and t-shirt and pajama pants wrinkled. "You're cute," she told him.
He leaned against the counter, and his eyes were bright with amusement. "So cute you might want to go out with me?"
She tilted her head to the side, biting her lip as she considered. "Okay. One date. But nobody can know."
"Well, I already told Joey, but…"
"What?!" She glared up at him.
He flashed her a triumphant smile. "I had you."
Her shoulders dropped in relief. "Chandler, I swear…" She let her threat trail away, momentarily distracted by how blue his eyes were. He had really pretty eyes, she thought. Long lashes. Why did guys always have such great lashes?
"Monica, you're staring," he accused softly. Before she could even register what was happening, he'd leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. Straightening up, he grinned down at her and said, "Oops, sorry. I forgot that would be inappropriate."
She just looked at him, speechless.
"Hey, I should get going. I'll meet you down at Central Perk tonight at eight, okay? Dress up."
And then he was gone, leaving her staring after him – her mouth hanging slightly open, and her mind racing a mile a minute.
--
"Monica, are you here?"
The faint call from the living room startled her, and her head snapped up in alarm. What was she doing here? And what kind of question was that? All of her friends practically lived here.
Sighing, Monica dropped the dress onto her bed, smoothing her hair and trying to look casual. "I'm in the bedroom, Phoebe, um… I'll be out in a second!"
It was later that night, and Monica had already showered and done her hair and make-up. Now she was dressed in her robe, frantically flinging her clothes from one end of her closet to the other. She'd already decided on – and discarded – four outfits. Everything was either too little or too much. Too plain or too sexy. This was Chandler! She was dressing up for Chandler! The world had gone mad.
There was a cursory knock on the door before Phoebe stuck her head in. "Hey, I was wondering if… whoa." Her friend's eyes widened as she surveyed the room, and Monica winced.
"Mon, your room is a disaster area. What are you doing?"
"I, ah… I…"
"Monica, do you have a date?" Phoebe asked curiously, coming the rest of the way in and taking notice of her friend's sleek hairstyle and made up face.
"Uh, yeah," Monica admitted, realizing the evidence was too incriminating to plausibly deny it.
"You didn't tell me that. Who's the guy?" Phoebe began picking up the discarded outfits on her bed, examining them.
"Just a guy. From work. A work guy."
"Really? What's his name?"
"Uh…" Monica's eyes fell on a designer Ralph Lauren scarf she'd borrowed from Rachel. "Ralph."
"Ralph?" Phoebe's nose wrinkled. "You have a date with a guy named Ralph?"
"Yup! Ralph's my date." She took her black miniskirt out of the closet and held it up in front of her, frowning. "What do you think?"
"Where's he taking you?"
"I don't know. He just said to dress up."
"Ooh, a surprise." Phoebe smiled appreciatively. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen your room like this. You must really want to make an impression."
"Yeah, something like that," Monica said vaguely. She flipped through the blouses hanging at one end of her closet. "What do you think about the skirt?"
"I don't know…" Phoebe said doubtfully. "Maybe you should borrow something from Rachel." She tossed the dress back on the bed and headed toward the door. "C'mon, let's go see what she's got."
Great. Rachel's clothes tended to be even sluttier than her own. Monica sighed and trailed her friend into the other bedroom.
Ten minutes later she stood in front of the full-length mirror in her room, appraising herself. Phoebe had found a navy blue slip dress that hung to mid-thigh on Rachel, but was just a little longer on her. It had a metallic sheen to it that brought out her eyes and set off her dark hair nicely. She spun around, checking the dress out from all angles. She had to admit, she looked good. Classy, but guaranteed to make Chandler's eyes pop out of his head a little.
She hoped. Maybe.
Shoving her wallet and keys into the small matching purse and trying not to think too much about the evening that lay ahead, Monica hurried back out into the living room. Phoebe was standing at the kitchen counter, flipping through Rachel's latest issue of Glamour and munching on a cookie.
"So what are you going to do tonight?" Monica asked, bending over to adjust one of her heels.
"Probably just hang out with Joey. Ross has Ben, Chandler's not home and Rachel won't be back till late." Phoebe shrugged. "Hey, you look great. Ralph's not gonna know what hit him."
Ralph. She'd have to tell Chandler that; she was sure he'd get a kick out of it. And speaking of Chandler… if Phoebe said he wasn't home, he must already be down at the coffee house. She threw an anxious look at the clock. 7:59.
"Okay, Phoebs. You be good and have fun with Joey; I'll be back late so don't wait up." She smiled nervously as she spritzed on some perfume.
"Okay, Mom," Phoebe said good-naturedly. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Or would."
"Uh huh." Monica tossed the perfume bottle back into her purse, giving her a wry look and a little wave. "See ya Phoebs."
"Have fun!" Phoebe called, as the door swung shut behind her.
Fun, right. Monica was utterly terrified. They shouldn't be doing this. This was crossing the line. Okay, so maybe the kissing had been crossing the line too, but that had been spontaneous. Sort of. The first five or six or… nine or ten times.
This, however… this was premeditated. Planned. An actual social outing wherein she and Chandler would be perceived as a couple.
God.
Hurrying down the staircase toward Central Perk, Monica crossed her fingers and silently prayed that she would make it through the night.
--
AN: The feedback so far is really amazing, thank you guys for your comments, and I'll take all the constructive criticism I can get, lol. Who else liked tonight's Friends episode? I thought it was really sweet. I guess it inspired me to finish this chapter right away!
