The One With The Digital Fairytale
Chapter Five
By: Jana~
*****~*****
--Monica wasn't sure if she was ready for the answer, but it was too late; the question was already out there.
"Chandler, what are you doing here?"
He could feel his resolve ebbing away as he stared into her intensely blue eyes. He knew if he didn't look away, he would lose his courage and end up fleeing, so he dropped his gaze to the floor.
She could hear her friends and brother inside her apartment murmuring amongst themselves, straining to peek out the tiny crack left by the door not being closed all the way, all from their spots on the couch and surrounding chairs.
He knew she was waiting for him to answer her question, but he wasn't exactly sure how best to proceed. He wondered, should he 'call her' on the conversation she'd had with Gunther, or should he admit to his earlier deception over the roses delivery? He sensed her annoyance growing as the seconds ticked by without him responding.
A feeling of dread, almost like a wave of nausea washed over her as she began to ascertain why he was there, and why he was having such a hard time answering her simple question. He knew about her conversation with Gunther. He knew she was at his apartment building looking for him.
The silence was unbearable, and she almost offered up excuses for her actions, just as a way of ending the uncomfortable moment, but then quickly decided, it wasn't a good idea to give out any details of her conversation with Gunther before she knew the full extent of Chandler's knowledge.
She'd already embarrassed herself by kissing him, she wasn't about to humiliate herself further by admitting to something, only to find out he'd had no prior knowledge to what she was confessing.
"Umm," he finally spoke up as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, plunging his hands deep into his pockets, his shoulders tense up around his neck. "I ran into Gunther."
"Alright," she muttered eventually, reaching for her door and pulling it shut by the knob, preventing her brother and friends from watching or listening in further.
It wasn't the reaction he was expecting, although, he wasn't exactly sure what to expect. He thought she might get angry. Maybe deny it or downplay it, but in all the scenarios he imagined, he always pictured her very vocal and defensive. But, she wasn't either of those things. She muttered a simple word of acknowledgement, then lobbed the ball back into his court.
She stared back at him, waiting for him to say more so she could get some idea of what he did and did not know, desperately wanting to walk away from this conversation with a shred of dignity.
He chose his next words carefully, then cleared his throat as he continued. "He said you were, looking for me."
"Yeah," she admitted, "I was."
"Why?" The bluntness of his question made him shake his head as something of an apology, then he rephrased his inquiry, "I mean, what did you need me for?"
She shrugged, "I just-- I just wanted to talk to you."
"About?" he pressed further.
"About, what happened on Saturday."
He nodded. "About Saturday…"
Taking a deep breath in an effort to settle her nerves, she nodded in reply, "Yeah?"
"The roses," he confessed, "I wasn't asked to deliver them."
Her brow instantly furrowed. "They-- They were from you?" she asked. "The roses were from you?"
He shook his head from left to right sharply, just once, then hung his head, "No, the roses were from Peter, but, I could've sent a flower delivery person to deliver them."
"Why didn't you?" she asked hopefully.
"Because," he hesitated before answering, "I wanted to see you again."
She suppressed a smile, taking one slight step towards him. "Why?"
"I don't know," he said, flustered. "I don't know what it is I'm feeling. I mean, any man would have to be nuts, or gay not to be attracted to you, but this goes beyond that! And I don't understand it. And Peter likes you--"
"Chandler," she interrupted, "I am not interested in Peter. What will it take for you to understand that?"
"I do understand that," he insisted. "Unfortunately, I don't think Peter will."
"And that obviously really bothers you," she surmised.
He nodded, "Yeah."
"What is this strange hold he has on you?"
When he stiffened up, she cringed. He always did that in his boss' presence, or at the mere mention of his name, and his reaction wasn't unlike how an abused child might act after years of abuse.
"Look," she coaxed, "Why don't you come inside for some coffee and we can talk, alright?"
He seemed reluctant to say yes at first, but then she smiled, and touched his shoulder gently. He sighed at the simple contact, then nodded.
"Good," she whispered, then opened the door, hitting her 3 friends and brother as they were leaning against it, eavesdropping.
She glared at them as they all made attempts at explaining themselves, but she was having no part of it.
"It's time to go home now," she ordered crossly.
"See what you did!" Joey whined at Rachel, "You got us in trouble! Now we don't get pie!"
"Hey, don't blame me!" she defended herself, "She's the one that closed the door!"
"Because I wanted some privacy!" Monica shot back.
"Maybe I should go…" Chandler suggested, taking a step back towards the door.
"No!" Monica nearly shouted, then lowered her voice, "I mean, I would really like you to stay," she told him sincerely. "Please? They were just leaving," she added as she threw her brother his coat from off the hook near the door.
"Yeah, I have to go," Ross stated monotone, taking the obvious hint, shrugging into his coat as he stole glances at Chandler.
"But what about pie?!" Joey complained, his face scrunched in a pained expression.
Monica groaned, then marched over to the fridge, "Oh, for God's sake! Take it with you, Joey!" She handed it to him, and a smile instantly took over his face.
"Yeah, baby!"
"Ok, ok," Phoebe agreed, "We're going. But first, introduce us." She smiled at Chandler, who smiled back politely.
"Fine," Monica caved to her friend's request. "Chandler, this is my brother Ross, and my friends Rachel, Phoebe, and Joey. Everybody, this is Chandler."
Everyone shook hands with various comments like "Nice to meet you," then all but Rachel headed for the door.
"See'ya tomorrow, Mon," Phoebe called out as she crossed the hall into her apartment.
"And thanks for the pie!" Joey exclaimed, holding it up with a grin before entering behind Phoebe into their apartment.
Monica sighed as she closed her door, smiling as an apology before looking over at Rachel. "Isn't it bed time?"
She scoffed, "It's only 9!" Monica threw her a dirty look, and Rachel rolled her eyes, "Fine. I'll just catch up on my correspondence or something." She walked to her room, then called out, "Goodnight," before closing her door.
Monica smiled, "How about that coffee?"
He smiled as he nodded, "Sure."
"I would offer you pie to go with it, but…" She gestured towards the across the hall apartment, and Chandler nodded, indicating his understanding.
***
--Ross waited till Monica's door was shut, then walked back up the few steps he had descended, walking softly over to Phoebe's and Joey's. After a brief quiet knock on their door, he peeked in.
"Hey, Ross," Joey greeted, already having dished himself out a huge piece of Monica's famous cherry pie.
Ross took that as permission to enter, not that he thought for even a moment that he wouldn't be welcome. "What do you think of Chandler?"
Joey shrugged, "He seems nice enough, why?"
Ross grabbed a plate from the cupboard, then a fork from the drawer. "I don't know, I just-- I think he's the reason Monica is upset," he said as he cut himself a much smaller sliver of pie than what Joey had.
Joey eye's widened out of concern, "What are you saying?" He loved Monica, and if this Chandler guy was hurting her, he would squash him like a bug.
"I'm not saying anything," Ross assured him. "I'm just, not sure what to make of this guy yet."
"Well, you did only just meet him," Phoebe interjected as she entered the livingroom from her bedroom, "For an all of a minute 30 seconds. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt before assuming the worst?"
"I'm not assuming anything, Pheebs," Ross defended himself, "I just- I think he's connected with Monica's poor mood earlier."
"So, maybe that's why he's here. To talk things over with her," Phoebe offered.
"Maybe…" Ross just couldn't get the feeling of potential impending woe out of his mind.
Phoebe gave her friend's shoulder a squeeze, knowing how much he loved his sister and therefore, was overprotective of her. He was a good big brother and a great friend, but she felt his fears were unfounded. She didn't get a bad feeling with Chandler at all, in fact, when she shook his hand, she got the strong sense of a man with integrity and heart. She felt he would never purposefully hurt Monica, rather, he would be her protector.
She patted Ross' back before turning to grab a plate, joining her friends at the kitchen counter.
***
--"So," Monica started as she sat Chandler's coffee in front of him on the coffee table, on a coaster. "Tell me about your childhood."
"You sound like my shrink," Chandler quipped, gesturing a 'thank you' for the coffee before picking it up and taking a sip.
"You go to a shrink?"
His lack of judgement over cracking such a revealing joke made him wince, and he set his coffee back down on its coaster before responding. "I used to, when I was little," he explained. "My parents' idea."
Curious, she asked, "Why?"
"When I was 9, my parents got a divorce." He shrugged, "Guess they figured I needed help dealing with that."
"And did you?"
"Well, yeah, I guess I did." He sighed, "I mean, the divorce was hard, but, I think I handled that part ok. It was just, why they got a divorce that made it necessary for me to see a shrink."
Her curiosity was peaked. "And that was?"
"My dad decided he was gay and in love with the houseboy."
Monica's eyes widened in shock. "Wow."
"Yeah," he muttered, "Then my mom decided she wanted to try her hand at erotic novel writing, so, my childhood was bizarre, to say the least."
"Sounds it," she agreed. "Any siblings?"
"No, I'm an only child."
"You get along with your parents?"
Chandler squirmed, and Monica noticed the question made him uncomfortable. "No," he half-mumbled. "Not really."
"That's too bad." She paused before changing subjects. "How'd you end up working for Peter?"
That question seemed to make him even more uncomfortable. "It was a business decision to hire me," he answered vaguely.
She scowled, confused. "In what way?"
He knew he couldn't tell her the whole truth. Not because he didn't trust her, even though he hadn't really known her long enough to sure he could, but because the less she knew the better. For everyone. "Peter took over my father's company. That was supposed to be my financial security. When Dad retired, I was to take over. But, Peter took it over, in a hostile take-over, and as part of the deal, my dad arranged for me to have this job."
"Why would your dad want you to be some rich jerk's beck-and-call boy?"
Chandler scowled at her choice of words, but he knew she wasn't trying to insult him, so he let it go. "He actually wanted a better position for me, Peter offered this position or nothing."
"Aren't you afraid that he'll just up and fire you or something?" she asked. "I mean, what's to stop him?"
"The signed contract," he replied, tipping his coffee cup to his lips. "The only reason he can fire me, is if I'm disloyal to him."
A confused expression made way for understanding as the bigger picture started taking shape in her head. "And if you date me, he will see it as disloyal cause he likes me!"
Chandler half-smirked at how proud she seemed for piecing it together. "Exactly."
She sighed, "What a jerk." Chandler just shrugged in response. "Ok," she continued, "But, now, if your dad went to so much trouble to get you this job, cause he wanted you to have financial security or what-have-you… that sounds like a nice thing to do! So, why don't you get along with him?"
"Long story short," he began, "To test my loyalty to him, Peter made me 'out' my father."
"He was still in the closet?"
He nodded, "Pretty much. It was very embarrassing for him, and he's just never really forgiven me for choosing Peter over him."
"Why did you?"
He frowned, "To prove my loyalty to Peter."
"But, why? Why be loyal to the man that took your father's company and your future?"
"Because, this job is all I have. The amount of money I make, I wouldn't be able to come close at any other job anywhere! And it wasn't like I lied!" he defended his actions. "My father is gay!"
"But, don't you think it should have been his decision to--"
"Look," he interrupted her, "I know it sounds horrible, but, can you just believe me when I say I had very good reasons for why I did what I did?"
She looked at him for a moment, and she could see the turmoil in his sad blue eyes. "Yes," she smiled reassuringly, "I can."
He smiled slightly in return. "Thank you."
Several moments went by before she spoke again, asking, "What about your mom?"
"What about her?"
"You see much of her?"
He chuckled, "You sure ask a lot of questions."
She grinned, "It's what I do."
"I see her on rare occasions," he replied. "Usually when she's breezing through town on a book tour or something."
Monica smiled and nodded. "I just have one more question."
"Ever?" he asked jokingly.
She shook her head, "For now."
"Ah," he grinned. "What's the question?"
Placing her hand on his thigh, inching up his leg slowly, she asked, "Can I kiss you?"
TO BE CONTINUED…