The One With The Digital Fairytale

Chapter Six

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--"I just have one more question." Monica said with a smile.

"Ever?" Chandler 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?"

"Well, as much as I would like that…" He placed his hand on hers, stopping her ascent up his leg, his focus on the simple skin on skin contact. "I'm worried about where it would go from there."

"Well, I was kinda hoping it would lead to more," she replied honestly.

"It can't," he sighed. "As much as I would like to date you, I just can't."

"What if I spoke to Peter?" she suggested, to which he shook his head emphatically.

"I mean, you can talk to him, that's your right, but, I don't think it's a good idea to talk to him about this," he gestured between them. "About us," he added.

"There's an 'us'?"

"I think there might've been," he admitted. "Potentially."

"And now you don't? All because some snooty rich man you hold in much higher esteem than you probably should--"

"It's not about holding him in high esteem, Monica," he half groaned, interrupting her. "It's complicated."

"So you've said," she recalled. "And what is it exactly that's so complicated?"

"I-- I can't really go into detail."

"There's something more here than meets the eye, isn't there?"

He shook his head, "I can't say."

"You're making this harder than it needs to be, Chandler."

"Maybe, but I have my reasons."

"And these reasons, you either can't or won't share?"

"I can't, Monica."

"Well, what if we keep it from him?"

"What?" he asked, confused. "Keep what from who?"

"A relationship," she answered. "From Peter."

He scoffed, "Easier said than done. You don't know Peter like I do," he added seriously. "You don't get to a position of power like Peter has without knowing how to get information."

"Why would he go to the trouble for just me?"

"If only he looked at things as simply. Once he's made up his mind about something, he's inflexible. He wants you. And if he can't have you, he will expend much energy to find out who, if anyone, does have you."

"That is just ridiculous!"

"Maybe," he shrugged, "But it's how he operates."

"So, what then?" she asked, flustered. "That's just, it?"

"I think it kinda has to be."

"No," Monica insisted. "I don't accept this!" she snapped, but then her expression and tone softened, "I think we have the makings of something really incredible here. And I don't know about you, but this kind of connection doesn't happen to me often."

"It's never happened to me," he admitted.

"I'm not prepared to have my life dictated to me by some jerk who thinks just cause he has money, he owns me or something!"

"How would we go about having any kind of healthy relationship if we were constantly looking over our shoulders, trying to be sure he's not watching?"

"Look, it's not like we're criminals on the run. We would just need to be careful where we go. Like, don't eat in restaurants he likes or go to places he goes."

"We wouldn't be able to meet here," he gestured at her apartment as a whole. "He could very easily have the place watched."

"You have got to be kidding me."

He shook his head, "Unfortunately, I'm not."

She rolled her eyes, "What a loser."

"Loser or not, he has resources. It's even possible that at some point, he could assign the task of 'watching you' to me."

She was about to utter words of disgust, but stopped short, her eyes growing wide as an idea hit her.

"What?" he asked, noting the change in expression.

"That could actually work to our advantage. I mean, if you were in charge of that task, you could report back to him that I'm not dating anyone or whatever, and--"

"I wouldn't be the only person assigned to the task," he interrupted. "And if what I told him contradicted what others told him, then he would see me as disloyal--"

"And fire you," she completed his sentence. "I'm really beginning to hate this guy."

"Beginning to?" he chuckled grimly. "It's hopeless."

"I don't accept that," she retorted.

He covered his face with his hands, sighing deeply, "Why are you doing this? We barely know each other. You could walk away from this nightmare right now and be none-the-worse for wear. Why are you fighting for this? For us?"

She removed his hands from his face, holding them in her own as she inched towards him. "This is why," she whispered, then met his lips with hers, kissing him tenderly.

The kiss didn't stay gentle for long. Soon, they were both frantically returning the other's affections, consequences be damned.

His hand traveled into her hair, holding her tentatively to his lips as he expressed his feelings for her.

"You do feel something for me," she gasped as his lips traveled to her neck and the hollow of her shoulder.

"Of course I do," he mumbled as he licked and nibbled on her skin. "Why else would I risk everything to be with you?"

"So, we can--"

"I'll work it out," he answered before the question was even asked. "I don't know how yet, but, I'll think of something."

A sigh of relief escaped her as she climbed into his lap, rubbing herself against him. "I want to be with you, Chandler."

He groaned as he nodded. "But not here." He looked over at her large bay windows, knowing it was possible to see in from the building across the way. "Somewhere with more privacy," he requested.

"My room," she said, leaving his lap and standing, taking his hand.

He stood and let her lead the way, knowing he was about to enter into a dangerous relationship - knowing that being with her could and probably would lead to trouble - knowing she would be worth the risk.

*****~*****

--"I'm telling you, I think something is going on with her," Ross informed the group as they sat drinking coffee at Central Perk, everyone present but his sister.

"Why do you say that?" Phoebe asked curiously.

"Because, she takes off after work, going God-knows where! Coming home late--"

"Tell me about it!" Joey exclaimed, interrupting him. "I haven't had a home cooked meal in weeks!"

"Well, ya'know Joe, you could cook for yourself once in a while," Rachel teased, her tone mocking him.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "I'll get right on that."

"Anyway," Ross muttered in an attempt to move back to the subject of his sister, "Her behavior has not been typical lately and I'm starting to get worried."

"Why not just ask her about it then?" Phoebe suggested.

"I did!" Ross exclaimed. "She said nothing was wrong."

"Then maybe nothing is wrong," Rachel offered.

Ross shook his head as he went to take a drink of his tea.

"Hey," Joey interjected suddenly. "What ever happened to that Chandler guy?"

"I don't know," Phoebe answered. "After that one night, she never really spoke of him again."

"She seemed really into him," Joey continued. "Doesn't it seem a bit strange that she would just… stop being into him?"

They looked around at one-another, fairly certain by everyone's expressions that they were all thinking the exact same thing.

*****

--"I think my friends and my brother are starting to suspect something," Monica mumbled, laying her head upon Chandler's naked chest.

He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, "What makes you say that?"

"They keep asking me questions," she explained, "Like, why am I always late coming home from work. And where do I go when I leave work."

"Well, maybe they're just worried about your late schedule," he offered.

Shaking her head, she sighed, "They've been asking about you, too."

He shifted his weight so he could look her in the eyes. "What kind of questions?"

She shrugged, "Like, why was I into you one minute, then never mention you again."

"And what did you say to that?"

"I was vague," she replied. "I just said it didn't do any good to talk about something you can't have."

He nodded, feeling her sadness at having to lie to her friends. "But you don't think that's the end of it, do you?"

"I don't know," she muttered, slipping out of the hotel room's bed and into a robe. "I know I don't like having to sneak around all the time."

He nodded. "But you knew it would have to be like this."

"I know," she conceded, "But I was kinda hoping we would eventually be able to go public with our relationship."

"Soon," he assured her. "Just, not yet."

"Why?" she asked, a touch of irritation to her voice. "What exactly is it that you're waiting for?"

"I can't say," he said as he hung his head, avoiding eye contact.

"I'm gonna have that embroidered on a pillow for you!" she snipped, storming off into the bathroom.

Within moments he heard the shower turn on, and he resigned himself to the fact that their lovemaking was officially over for the evening. He knew it upset her, his keeping things from her. Always keeping her in the dark about his life away from her. He wanted to tell her all his secrets, tell her everything about everything, but he knew he couldn't. It wouldn't be safe to.

He had asked her to trust him, and she said she did, but sometimes, she seemed to be growing somewhat impatient over his lack of straightforwardness. He sighed, knowing it was a mistake to date her, but he couldn't stop now. He cared too much for her.

He stepped into the steamy bathroom, closing the door quickly so that the warmth wouldn't escape. "I'm sorry," he apologized as he crept into the shower with her. "I know this is hard for you," he whispered in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. "Please, just give me a little more time," he pleaded, running his hands slowly up her wet soapy body.

She leaned back against him, enjoying his touch, then nodded slightly.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he thanked her before turning her to face him, holding her tight to him as he kissed her. A gentle kiss meant to reassure her of his genuine feelings for her, and not one of lust or need.

"Am I going to like the real Chandler?" she asked several moments after the kiss ended, her head resting against the hollow of his shoulder. "The Chandler that's hiding behind all the secrets and stuff?"

"I hope so," he replied, kissing her wet hair.

She pulled back to look at him, a determined expression on her face. "Just tell me one thing," she asked of him. "Just one secret, to show that you trust me."

"I do trust you," he insisted. "It's not that."

"Than what is it?" she demanded. "And do not say: I can't say!"

He wiped the water that dripped off his hair away from his eyes, nodding to show his understanding. "Just one secret?"

She nodded, brushing his wet hair back with her fingers. "Just one secret," she reiterated.

He could have lied. He could have made something up and she would most likely never be the wiser, but he decided to be honest with her. He knew what he couldn't tell her, so he quickly gave thought to what he could tell her. Something that wouldn't be detrimental to her, or his ongoing task.

"Alright," he stated softly, his brain clicking on something. "When I lost my cell phone, and you returned it?" he reminded, and she nodded. "I didn't, exactly."

She scowled as she tried to follow. "What do you mean?"

"Remember when you asked me how it got in the bushes?" he continued.

She nodded, "Yeah…"

"He wouldn't stop calling me," he said with an exasperated sigh. "I was already walking his damn dog, and yet he still called to tack on more crap to my already enormous list of things to do." He shook his head, "I got pissed, so, I chucked it into the bushes."

A smirk grew across her face, and he looked at her questioningly. "Find that amusing, do you?" he asked bitingly.

"No," she denied, "It's just- it's good to know you can actually go against the great and powerful Peter Becker on occasion."

He scoffed, "Oh, believe me, I have no great love for the guy," he admitted.

"Then, why fall all over him like he's king of the world?"

"King of the world?" he chuckled. "I don't really."

"Oh, please! Chandler, you act like he's the end-all to everyone and everything."

"He demands my loyalty," he countered. "So, I give him that. It's expected, not requested."

"Yeah, well, it should be earned," she muttered disappointedly as she stepped back under the spray of water.

He sighed as he grabbed the hotel-sized bar of soap, working it into a lather before running it slowly up her back. "I know you don't like him. And I know you hate that I'm working for him, but, I have to."

"So you keep saying," she replied distantly.

"Don't shut me out, Mon," he pleaded. "Please."

"I just don't understand you! Why don't you just quit?! Tell the man to take a flying leap and quit! Then, we could be together!"

"We are together."

"Together without having to hide!" she snipped. "Without having to sneak away to second-rate hotels! Without having to lie to my brother and friends!"

"It won't be much longer," he promised.

"Until what?" she contented. "Until you include me in whatever you have going on? Until you decide to quit your job? Until you spontaneously combust? What is it that I'm supposed to be waiting for? What won't be much longer?"

"I can't--"

"You can't say," she interrupted, "Right, I know," she muttered bitterly.

He touched her intimately with soapy hands as he nuzzled against her neck. "I know you're frustrated, Monica," he said sympathetically. "But I'm asking you to trust me."

She sighed, allowing his touch to relax her, dissolving her irritation. "I do, Chandler," she breathed unevenly. "I do."

*****

--Chandler walked in the door of his apartment, dropping his briefcase on the recliner before heading for his room. He loosened his tie and undid the top few buttons on his shirt, then opened the drawer to his dresser, pushing unneeded items aside as he fumbled with the false bottom.

He popped open the door to the secret compartment, then retrieved the only item stored there- a cell phone.

Dialing the number by heart, he kicked off his shoes as he waited for the standard greeting.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end inquired, and Chandler plopped down on his bed and sighed.

"It's me," he replied. "We need to speed things up…"

TBC…