The One With The Digital Fairytale
Chapter Eight
By: Jana~
*****
--Monica slammed down the phone in disgust, looking around the room as if it would present solutions to her current dilemma, but the incredibly neat and tidied room offered zero answers.
With an irritated sigh, she grabbed her purse off the hook and reached for the doorknob. The door swung open, narrowly missing her before her hand even made contact with the brass fixture.
"Hey, where you off to?" Rachel asked Monica as she entered their apartment.
Monica groaned as she walked past her roommate and continued out the door. "I have something I have to do."
*****
--With a hesitant stride, Monica approached Chandler's apartment, staring at the gold numbers on the door for a moment before knocking. No answer.
Maybe he's in the bathroom, she thought to herself, so she knocked again. Louder. And waited… still no answer.
"Perfect," she grumbled to herself, shaking her head before turning to leave.
As she turned, she jumped as she found herself face to chest with a very large, seemingly unfriendly man. Fear shot through her like bolts of electricity, not only because he was quite large, but because she didn't even hear him step up behind her.
She smiled weakly at him, making several unsuccessful attempts to move past him, but he matched her movements.
"Monica Geller?" he asked, his voice so deep it almost sounded inhuman.
She considered lying to the enormous man, but something made her squeak out, "Yes?"
He nodded. "Come with me, please."
"Where are we going?" she asked, both curious and scared.
"Just come with me, please," he demanded, his disposition unyielding.
She didn't feel like she could refuse, though going with him to what would probably be referred to later as the 'secondary crime scene' didn't appeal to her either, but her options were obviously limited.
This is the night I die, she thought to herself as she followed the man down to the lobby and out the door of the building.
He wasn't holding onto her, so the idea of running away did enter her mind, but what if he had a gun? He could shoot her in the back as she fled.
Better to wait and see where we're going, she thought. To see if a better opportunity for escape presents itself.
She followed her captor, hugging herself tightly as she forced herself not to panic.
***
--The streets seemed strangely empty as Monica closely followed the man in front of her. She didn't know where he was taking her, leading her, but wherever it was, it was close enough that no car was needed.
She tried to decide if that was a good thing. It would be harder to escape from a moving vehicle. Or from a locked trunk. She drew in a shaky breath as that thought flitted through her head. If they, whoever 'they' was, was going to kill her, would they at least do it quickly, or would she be made to suffer?
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice strained with fear. The man didn't answer her, or even acknowledge her.
--It was only a little more than a block away, but the difference between the two buildings was stark. Chandler's apartment building was a really nice middle-upper class complex, with luxury amenities; the building she and 'the Hulk' had entered was run down, unkempt, and very poorly lighted.
Subconsciously, Monica held her breath as her abductor knocked on the door they stood directly in front of, uttering a sentence of words that made no sense when asked by someone on the other side for the password.
The password must have been correct, because seconds later, the door swung open. The burly man gave her a gentle push through the door, and when she stumbled in, her eyes immediately darted about, quickly taking in her surroundings.
There were several men in the room, most of them dressed very well and looking very out of place in such a dumpy apartment. Then, her eyes fell onto a familiar face.
"Chandler," she breathed, rushing to him.
"What are you doing here, Monica?" he asked softly, gathering her into his arms, his tone denoting that he really wasn't all that surprised to see her.
"I had to talk to you," she replied, her body shaking as the adrenaline that had been rushing through her veins started to take affect.
He could feel her tremble. "Are you alright?" he asked as he pulled back, framing her face with his hands.
"I am now," she whispered, smiling as she stared at his deep blue eyes, forcing herself to hold back the tears that threatened to fall.
"I'm sorry if Frank scared you," he apologized, guessing at what had her so distraught. "He's intimidating, but wouldn't hurt a fly. Unless told to."
"Comforting," she mumbled unconvincingly.
He offered a small smile to help put her at ease. "What did you need to talk to me about?"
She glanced around, noticing that all eyes in the room where on her. "Is there any way we could talk in private?"
"Sounds serious," he surmised. "Is something wrong?"
"Who are all these people?" she asked, virtually ignoring his previous question.
"Oh! I'm sorry." He gestured towards one of the sharply dressed individuals. "This is my father, Charles. Dad, this is Monica. And these are, associates of my father's," he added, somewhat hesitantly.
Monica nodded politely, then turned back to Chandler. "Is this, like, a mob type thing?" she asked sotto.
Chandler chuckled. "No, no," he assured her. "Nothing like that."
"Then what is this?" she wanted to know. "What's going on? Why are you here? And more importantly," she added, "Why am I here?"
"I had someone watching you at your apartment," Chandler admitted. "To be sure you were safe. When you left," he continued, "I had you followed."
"You were spying on me?" she asked, her tone edging anger. "Don't you trust me?"
"Yes," he said calmly, "I do trust you. It's Peter I don't trust." He grasped her shoulders gently, "I wanted to protect you, Monica. I had you followed-- I had you brought here to insure your safety."
"And where is here, exactly? I mean, I thought you didn't get along with your father," she said as she watched Charles and the other men out of the corner of her eye.
"A ruse," Chandler informed. "And I'm sorry I had to lie to you, but, I had very good reasons."
Monica took a deep cleansing breath. "And those reasons are?"
Chandler nodded as he pulled up a chair. "It is about time I explain things to you," he said as he gestured for her to take a seat.
"Can she be trusted?" a man asked, the question more aimed at Charles than Chandler.
"Yes," Chandler assured them, answering before his father could. "I would trust her with my life."
Monica smiled inwardly at Chandler's trust in her.
"You're sure, son?" Charles asked. "We've come too far now for slip-ups."
"Positive," he replied with confidence as he smiled at Monica. "It all started when Peter decided he wanted my father's company," Chandler began. "He tried to get Dad to sell, but he refused. Because Peter does not like to lose, he refused to take 'no' for an answer, so he started to have him tailed."
"You'll have to forgive me," Monica quipped sarcastically, "I left my spy-to-English dictionary at home."
"Followed," Chandler clarified. "To get any information that might be useful as a trump card." He could see the confused expression on Monica's face. "You find out something about your opponent that he or she doesn't want known," he explained. "Then, you pretty much blackmail them with it. And it worked," he continued. "He did find out something about my father that he could use. He found out that my father was, at that time, a closet homosexual."
"How was he able to find that out? I mean, if your dad was in the closet…" she trailed off.
Chandler glanced over at his father, seeking his approval before replying. "He was in the closet as far as the business world was concerned," he explained. "Occasionally, he went to clubs, like on the weekends, and Peter found that out. He threatened to 'out' him if he didn't sell him the company. That was Peter's trump card. That, among other things," he conceded.
"What other things?" Monica asked.
Chandler caught a glimpse of his father shaking his head. "Just, business stuff," was his vague answer, "But it all came down to Peter forcing our hands and bullying us into selling him the company. And since that day, we have been working on a plan to get the company back. That's why I hired on as Peter's assistant. Dad needed someone on the inside."
"But, then, I thought you 'outed' your dad to prove your loyalty to Peter."
Chandler nodded, "Yes, but I called Dad first and warned him. Asked him for his opinion. We decided, it was more important to keep me on the inside than to protect his secret."
"So, you've been a spy this whole time?"
He chuckled at the analogy. "Yeah, something like that. And now," he added, "We finally have enough information and financial backing and support to get the company back from him."
"Information? What kind of information?"
The way Charles eyed her suspiciously made Monica wince; almost cower. He didn't like her, she had that much figured out.
Charles gestured for Chandler to approach him, then he leaned in and whispered something in his ear. Chandler nodded.
"There's been some illegal activities, on Peter's part," Chandler explained carefully. "And let's just leave it at that."
"What if he still won't?" Monica asked. "Sell the company back to you I mean."
"Oh, he will," Charles interjected. "And now sharing time is over." He turned to Chandler, "Be sure she gets home alright, then we need you back here."
*****
--"Sorry my father isn't very sociable," Chandler apologized to Monica, "He's just really preoccupied at the moment."
She nodded, "I understand."
Leaning in, he gently kissed her lips, but sensing her hesitation, he pulled back. "Tonight has been hard for you," he suggested, and she nodded.
"To say the least."
"I know it's all kinda hard to understand. Hell, I'm in the middle of it and I don't completely understand it, but, I do understand this," he paused before continuing. "I'm in love with you, Monica."
"You're… in love with me?" she stammered, taken by surprise by his admittance.
"Yes," he reiterated. "And I am just really hoping that tonight hasn't changed anything between us."
She scowled, confused by his comment. "What do you mean?"
"Do you think any less of me now? Do you dislike the 'real Chandler'?"
"Why would I think any less of you? For trying to help your dad get back his company? For having the courage to take on the Peter Becker?" She shook her head, "No, I don't think any less of you. You are the same Chandler I've been with all these weeks, I just know more now than I knew before."
"And what you now know, you're ok with?"
She nodded, leaning up against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm in love with you, too, Chandler," she confessed, then smiled before kissing him.
"What did you mean before," she asked as she slowly ended the kiss, pulling back to look in his eyes, "When you said Peter has done illegal stuff?"
He shrugged, "There is this guy, a businessman, James Sanderford, that Peter has had business dealings with. Illegal dealings," he stated quietly. "It's better if you don't know the details."
"You're not in danger, are you?"
"No," he shook his head. "Having this information actually protects me, in a way," he told her. "But the fewer people who know the details, the better." He kissed her lips softly. "You can understand that, right?"
"Yeah," she nodded, "I can understand that."
He smiled, his fingers raking through her hair to rest at the crown of her head. "Thank you," he whispered, then pulled her to him and kissed her passionately.
"Hey, Mon," Rachel's voice startled the two lovers apart. "You have a Chandler on your face."
Chandler chuckled, mostly to himself, but Monica was more irritated than amused.
"Yes, Rachel," she spoke through gritted teeth. "Thank you."
Rachel smirked, then turned to Chandler. "Good to see you again," she said politely, indicating with her tone of voice that she was curious as to why he was there.
"Likewise," he returned cordially, then addressed Monica. "I'll let you field this one, I have last minute business to attend to."
Monica silently asked of him, I can tell my friends?
He could read the question in her eyes, and he smiled as he nodded. "I'll call you as soon as I can," he promised her, then kissed her quick one last time before walking away and down the nearby steps.
"Oh my God!" Rachel exclaimed, "What is going on?!"
"Rachel," Monica whined, "I feel like I've just been thrown into a bad B-rated spy movie, ok?" They both walked through the door of their apartment, "Give me a minute to change first?" she asked as she tossed her purse on the table.
"Sure," Rachel agreed, watching her tired friend drag herself to her room.
--"It's Monica," she said into her bedroom phone, speaking quietly so her roommate wouldn't overhear. "I went to see Chandler," she informed, "And I need to talk to you."
***
--Chandler walked through the door after giving the correct password, the meeting still under way.
"Chandler," Charles greeted his son. "Monica get home ok?"
"Yes," Chandler replied, joining the other men around the conference table.
"I hope you're right about her," Charles said with concern. "I hope she is trustworthy."
"She is," Chandler assured him, as well as the other businessmen.
"Still," Charles added, "You didn't tell her anything about the Sanderford file, did you?"
Chandler shifted uncomfortably in his chair, "No, Dad," he lied. "I didn't."
TBC