"So tell me about yourself," he said, smiling across the table at her with the candlelight flickering between them. His eyes begged her to play the game, and so she did.

She told him about her childhood, her mom's favoritism and her dad's constant support. She spoke about high school, the rift between she and Rachel that had mended during their sophomore year, and her constant struggle to stay out of her older brother's shadow. She told him how it felt to hold the acceptance letter to NYU in her hands, the strange achy sensation of leaving home for the first time, and how close she and Ross had become during their college years together.

She told him all the things he already knew, and a few things that he did not, but what made it different was… him. Her wisecracking pal Chandler who lived across the hall and liked to tease her and gave her the most comforting hugs, and this strange Chandler sitting across the table from her in his sports jacket, blue eyes serious and head bent forward to listen to what she had to say, so attentive – they were world's apart.

So this is what Chandler Bing is like on a date, she thought more than once.

He'd touched her seven times so far.

Once outside of Central Perk, when he'd given her his gorgeous smile and then taken her elbow to lead her to the cab. Then during the ride to Sorrentino's, when he'd grasped her wrist and tilted it to see the time, and his hand had lingered there for a few moments longer than necessary, fingertips burning into her skin. Inside the restaurant, he'd guided her to their table with his hand on the small of her back, and as they sat down, he'd told her hesitantly that she looked beautiful as his hand reached up to brush her cheek. Twice during dinner he'd lightly squeezed her hand, and now, as she studied the dessert menu, he did it again – only this time he didn't let go.

Flustered, Monica stared at the menu and read the same line over and over again. Where was that damn waiter, anyway?

"Monica?"

She bit her lip, peeking at him over the top of her menu. "Uh huh?" she answered brightly.

He smiled. "I just wanted to tell you thanks. For agreeing to this. I'm having a really good time."

She relaxed. "I'm having a really good time too," she said softly, realizing she was being unfair to him. "This is, without a doubt, the best date I've been on in ages."

"This is the ONLY date I've been on in ages," he lamented, and she had to laugh.

"So… did you ever bring any of your other girlfriends here?"

Realizing her mistake the moment the words were out of her mouth, she sputtered incoherently as she tried to retract the statement.

Meanwhile, he was wearing a shit-eating grin. "My 'other' girlfriends?" he repeated, mocking her. "Oh, honey, you know there's never been anybody but you…"

Monica pulled her hand out from under his, trying to glare but ending up smiling. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment. "That isn't what I meant and you know it," she muttered. "I meant, did you ever bring any of your girlfriends here."

"Ah." Still grinning, he sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together in his lap. "Well, I brought Janice here once… she ordered oysters and choked on one of them, so I nearly had to give her the Heimlich maneuver while everyone watched like it was some sort of dinner theater."

Monica snorted with laughter. "You never told us about that."

"I like to spare myself humiliation whenever possible."

"And so you went out with Janice why?" she asked dryly.

For a moment she held her breath, worrying he might take offense, but he just gazed off into the distance for a long time before answering seriously, "I don't know."

She laughed again. "I think that excuse only works once. You guys went out how many times?"

"About five too many, and why, exactly, are we discussing Janice?"

"Because I asked if you'd ever brought her here."

"Right." He nodded. "Well… let's just say this has been a much more pleasant evening."

Monica rapped her knuckles on the table. "Knock on wood. One of us might get food poisoning now."

He grinned, and for a moment she just stared at him. Chandler had really grown into his looks the past few years, she decided. Instead of gangly he now just seemed tall and broad shouldered, and although he'd gotten thin to the point where she was worried last winter, he now seemed to be back to normal. His last haircut had really agreed with him, and in the dim light of the restaurant he really looked… incredibly… sexy.

Thankfully, Chandler seemed unaware of the direction of her thoughts, launching into another dating horror story that had her wiping away tears of laughter at the end. The waiter came and took their dessert order, and five minutes later they were digging into the chocolate raspberry cake with relish - one plate, two forks.

"Your half is bigger," Monica complained, as he cut into the dessert with his fork.

"It is not."

"You might as well just eat the whole thing."

He gave her an exasperated look, and she bit back a smile. "Here. Now, are you happy?" he asked, cutting a large part off his own portion and shoving it across the plate.

She grinned. "You are too easy, Chandler."

Without a word, he slid the piece back across, stabbed at it with his fork, and shoved it in his mouth. Monica just smirked.

For the next minute or so, there was nothing but the clink of silverware as they ate in silence. Finally, Chandler cleared his throat and set his fork down. "You can have the rest," he said graciously, as she took small bites of her own half, indulging herself.

"I think I've maxed out my calorie intake for the day," she said regretfully.

"Monica, you are a toothpick. You should have had two pieces."

"Don't start that again," she warned.

Monica was tired of people criticizing her about her weight – even though she knew Chandler meant well – and she usually just brushed him off.

"Okay, okay." Chandler held up his hands in mock defense.

"I already get enough of that from my mother, I don't need it from you, too."

"Hey, I wasn't criticizing," he said, his voice unsure. "I just – care about you a lot, Mon. Worrying comes with the territory."

Her eyes softened. "I know."

Relieved, he leaned forward again, looking at her intently. "I didn't mean to, to make you think that's how I see you. In fact, I meant what I said before, you do look… amazing tonight."

Boy, he could really turn on the charm when the situation called for it. A smile crept across her face as she laid her fork down, leaning in ever so slightly and trying to lighten the mood. "Chandler, are you hoping to get lucky tonight?"

"Am I making any progress?" he joked.

Laughing, she stood up and grabbed her purse. "You wish, Bing. I'm going to go to the restroom. Be right back."

As she headed toward the ladies room she felt his eyes on her, and she smiled to herself. As the evening had progressed and the strangeness had worn off, they had unconsciously lapsed back into the "friend zone," but there was also some definite flirting going on. It unnerved her, but not nearly as much as it would have a few days ago.

The revelation that she hoped he'd ask her out again came as she gazed at herself in the mirror, seeing for the first time in months, a genuinely happy woman with a glowing smile.

Back in the restaurant, she caught Chandler's eye as he handed his credit card over, and they both smiled shyly. It was cliché, but she could swear her heart skipped a beat.

I guess I should stop agonizing over this, she thought, and make something happen with it.

"So where to next?" she asked, sitting back down across from him.

"Oh, does this mean I've passed so far?"

"With flying colors," she responded in utter seriousness, flooring him. Well, maybe it was the nudge of her foot against his ankle under the table that caused him to look so surprised.

"Uh… great. Great. I actually thought we could, um, go for a walk in Central Park or something."

She smiled. "That sounds wonderful." And so unlike the Chandler she was used to. No wonder Janice kept coming back. The guy was a romantic at heart.

"Yeah," he said, his voice seeming to have dropped about two octaves. The two of them, romantic stroll, darkness. Interesting.

"Maybe, you know, since all either of us is going to be thinking about is whether you'll kiss me again, we should just get it over with now," she proposed, inwardly wondering where all this bravado had come from.

Chandler looked at her for a moment like he thought she might have been replaced by a pod person in the bathroom. "You want me to kiss you now?" he finally asked. "Here?" He threw a surreptitious glance around, as though their friends may have planted spies among the patrons.

"Well, as long as there's nothing else to do..."

She'd been teasing, but he leaned over with absolute seriousness on his face. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt his warm breath against her neck, and then, as his hand closed gently around her own, he kissed her. Long, slow, deep kisses until she felt like she'd been drugged. He tasted dark, like wine and chocolate. She idly hoped nobody was paying attention to them, because this was more the kind of kissing you'd want to be doing privately, and she'd never really been the exhibitionist type before –

Someone cleared their throat, and Chandler drew back so quickly he nearly fell off his chair. Monica took a few deep breaths, feeling a blush spread across her cheeks as she caught the eye of their waiter. He seemed amused.

"Here you are, Mr. Bing," he said smoothly, placing the credit card and receipt in front of Chandler, who signed it with a hand that was only shaking a little, to his credit. "You have a good night now," the waiter continued in a tone that suggested he knew exactly what kind of night they'd be having.

"Thanks, you too," Chandler said, stuffing the credit card back into his wallet and not meeting her eye. Finally, he looked up and smiled a bit. "I wonder how long he was standing there."

Monica couldn't help but laugh, a little breathlessly. "Probably long enough to get quite a show." She glanced around the room. Everyone else seemed involved with their dinners and their own conversations. "Maybe we should get out of here before we become our own little dinner theater."

He smirked a little. "I don't know if I should stand up."

She felt her face grow red. "Chandler –"

"I'm joking, relax." He grinned, getting to his feet. "You do have an effect on me, Monica, but I'm not exactly fifteen anymore."

She sighed with relief. "Thank god," she murmured.

Several minutes later they stepped out into the warm summer night, and Monica took a deep breath, trying to focus as she watched Chandler bend down and tie his shoe. "Want to walk to the park? It's only a few blocks," she said, hoping he'd agree. It was a beautiful night, warm but not humid, and clear. She wanted to see the stars.

"Sure," he replied easily, straightening up. As they walked several paces down the sidewalk, his hand reached out and caught hers, squeezing lightly in a simple yet meaningful gesture. After a moment she squeezed back, and he relaxed.

"So you're having a good time, huh?" he asked her, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen.

"I am," she assured him, giving him a quick smile. "I… I thought this would be weird, but it isn't. Not really." Anymore.

"I was actually worried about that too, but… I'm glad it didn't turn out that way."

"Me too." She smiled to herself. A week ago, a few days ago, even – she would have laughed if anyone had told her she'd be out on an actual date with Chandler.

"Oh, hey." He let go of her hand abruptly, jogging a few steps ahead of her until he paused beside a flower stand across the street from Central Park. Chewing on his lower lip, he surveyed the selection until his eyes fell upon a simple bouquet of roses. After paying, he presented it to her with a flourish and a sheepish smile.

"The pink stands for appreciation, a 'thank you' for agreeing to go out with me," he explained, not quite meeting her eyes. "And yellow is friendship, which will always be, um, the most important thing between us…" He trailed off.

Monica managed to swallow, feeling like she might start crying if he didn't stop acting so sweet. She studied the bouquet, noting that the third color rose he'd left unexplained. Red. She fingered the delicate petals softly, noting his sudden interest but choosing not to comment.

"This is so sweet, Chandler," she said finally. "Thank you."

He sighed with relief. "You're welcome, Mon." Taking her hand again, he led her past the florist's stand and across the street, where they moved slowly into greenery of the park. Past kids with ice cream cones, teenagers with stereos, and other couples walking hand in hand. They spoke once in awhile, idly, of inconsequential things like work or a movie they'd seen, but mostly silence reigned, filling the gaps in a way that a thousand words could not. Time seemed to float by, the outside world lost beyond the trees, sounds of the city muffled and distant.

Sometime around the halfway point of their walk, Chandler led her to a bench at the side of the path, shadowed by the overhang of rustling branches and mostly hidden from view. When they were seated he turned toward her, his face just slightly anxious in the moonlight.

"I know we agreed on one date, but I gotta ask… is there a chance we could do this again?" he asked nervously, his blue eyes nonetheless meeting hers straight on.

Monica closed her eyes for a moment. "I don't –" she began.

"I, I know you don't want to ruin what we have," he interrupted hurriedly, mistaking her intention. "But just hear me out for a second, okay?"

She nodded, curious.

"Look…we have a great thing going. You are one of my best friends, and I can't imagine it any other way. We've known each other since college, you know? If anything was going to happen between us, you'd think it would have happened back then. I don't know why it didn't. But maybe this was what was supposed to happen, maybe it was meant to happen like this. Some sort of natural progression." He took a deep breath. "A long time ago, I told you that if neither of us were married by the time we were forty, we should get married. This isn't a proposal," he was quick to add, and Monica smiled wryly, "god no, but I've always felt that you and I… we could be really good together. If we would just… give it a shot."

Monica smiled warmly at him. "You did, huh?"

"Yeah, I did." He gave a little shrug.

"Well, what I was going to say, before you so rudely interrupted me," she gave him a nudge so he'd know she was joking, "was that I don't see any reason why we couldn't. Give it a shot."

His eyes opened wide for a moment. "So I just bared my soul to you for no reason," he finally said.

She laughed. "Chandler, it's not my fault you're so damn talkative."

He looked offended for a moment, but then a little smirk formed on his face. "Well, there's a surefire way of shutting me up, you know."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." He leaned over and stole a soft kiss, then smiled slowly at her. "Something like that will usually do the trick."

"Hm… I think I can remember that," she said thoughtfully.

He grinned. "How about a practice run? I'll start talking and then – mmph."

He was cut off abruptly by her kiss, the first she'd initiated since, well, their first. His hands came up to frame her face, fingers threading slowly through her hair. She hummed softly under her breath. She'd missed this. The last guy she'd kissed was Pete, months ago, and to be totally honest, he wasn't the best kisser in the world.

Chandler, on the other hand…

"You're just full of surprises," she said breathlessly, pulling away. His eyes were darkened, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

"I could say the same," he replied, sliding one of his hands down to play with the ends of her hair while the other hand traced a finger slowly down her profile to her lips. A little smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"What?" she asked, feeling slightly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

"I was just thinking what everyone's reaction will be when we tell them."

She shook her head. "Surprise? Shock?"

"In your brother's case, maybe horror."

"Maybe we shouldn't tell them right away. So soon after… Rachel and Ross, you know…"

Chandler made a face. "I say the hell with that. Those two have their problems and they seriously need to work them out, but I'm tired of being caught in the middle."

She sighed. "Me too." A thought struck her then and she worried at her lower lip, causing him to lean back and look at her closely.

"What's wrong?"

"I – I was just thinking about how they started out. They were so happy. And look what happened; look where they are now." She glanced up at him. "I want this, but… I don't want to end up like Ross and Rachel."

Chandler shook his head after a moment. "We won't," he said firmly. "Mon, come on. Our friendship is so much stronger than theirs was, when they first started going out. And anyway, we're not them. We're us. Just because they didn't make it, doesn't mean… we won't." His voice grew very soft.

Monica ducked her head, laughing a little. "When did you get to be so secure?" she asked him. "I – I'm a little scared that everything's changing so fast, and you… you're just going with it."

He smiled a little, taking her hand and pressing it against his chest, right over his heart. "I'm terrified, Mon," he confessed. Through the thin fabric of his shirt, she could feel his pulse pounding rapidly.

"Thank god," she whispered, causing him to laugh. She leaned forward, laying her head against his shoulder and feeling his arms go hesitantly around her in a familiar embrace. This was more what she was used to. Only now, she wasn't seeking comfort in his arms after some random guy had broken her heart. Now… now she was holding on for dear life, praying that this man wouldn't.

--



AN: Good lord, I am such a sap. I hope you're not all gagging from a sugar overdose right about now. And I'm sorry for the delay between updates – classes started again last week, so it's been pretty hectic getting back into that type of schedule. I'll try to update again a.s.a.p… whenever that will be. Oh and please note, I've only been to NYC twice, so if geographically some things seem weird or just plain wrong… forgive me. Thanks for the feedback, everyone who has written. :-)