The One With The Digital Fairytale

Chapter Eleven

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--Monica stared after him in stunned silence for a moment, then wandered out the door, looking almost lost as she headed back upstairs to her apartment. She staggered through the door, concerning her friend and roommate.

"Monica? What's wrong?" Rachel asked, dropping her fashion magazine down in front of her.

"I- don't- know," she replied, still dazed by Chandler's behavior.

Rachel watched as Monica took a seat at the table, joining her, her mind obviously elsewhere. "Monica," she asked firmly, "What's happened? Why do you look so, out of it?"

"I think Chandler's mad at me," Monica uttered softly, her brow scrunched, causing little worry lines to become prominent.

"You think?" Rachel questioned.

"I saw him down at Central Perk," Monica explained, "Just a minute ago, and, he was all distant and weird. And he snapped at me."

"Wha--?" Rachel squinted as she scoffed, "Well, what did he say exactly?"

"He said he wasn't in the mood for me or my games, then he left, saying he needed to be somewhere where I wasn't."

"I don't understand, what brought that on?"

"I don't know! I asked him, but he said I already knew!" She sighed, "Then he left."

"And you just let him?"

"I wasn't thinking straight. He took me by surprise! Last night- this morning, was so wonderful," she recalled, trying to remember anything out of the ordinary when she spoke to him last. "Something had to have happened at work. During the meeting thingie."

"But what does that have to do with you?"

Monica chewed her lip nervously, but Rachel just assumed it was because of the stress of the situation. She had no idea that her friend was performing the nervous action for another reason entirely.

*****

--Monica sat on her couch, her legs up to her chest, her chin resting on her knees as she lamented over Chandler's words to her. The venom in his tone of voice… he hated her.

The knock at the door startled her, it being much to late for one of the gang to be showing up, unless there was something wrong. She scowled as she pushed herself up off the couch and headed for the door.

She peeked through the peephole, but couldn't tell who was on the other side. Whoever it was at her door, they were leaning against the doorjamb with their head resting on their arm.

The thought that it was Chandler came and went quickly, feeling that he was too angry to make an appearance any time soon, if ever.

She double-checked to make sure that the security chain was in place, then slowly opened the door and peeked out into the somewhat-dark hallway.

Chandler's head shot up when he heard the door creak open, and he sighed when he saw the set of familiar eyes peer through the opening at him.

"Chandler," she whispered, surprised to see him, frozen in place.

"I just--" he started, but stopped, taking a deep breath. He looked like he had been crying. "I just have to know," he began again. "Why?"

Monica just stared at him for a moment, then nodded and gestured to the chain with her eyes before closing the door, unhooking the chain, and reopening the door fully to him.

"Why what?" she asked, her voice timid.

He shook his head. "Please, no more games. I need to know. I need to understand how you could do that to me. How could you lie so convincingly? How could--" his voice choked, "How could you?"

"Please, Chandler," she begged, "I don't understand. What happened today?"

He hung his head and sighed. "Peter told me, Monica."

"Told you what?" she asked, eyeing him carefully.

"He told me that I was your assignment."

She scowled. "I was your what?"

"Don't try to deny it, Monica. It all makes sense now. The bug in the watch, all the questions… how you could love me. You never really loved me, did you?"

"Oh my God," she murmured to herself, turning from him and beginning to pace. "The nerve of that man!"

"Just tell me why," Chandler requested, "And I'll be out of your life."

She faced him abruptly, "But I don't want you out of my life, Chandler! I love you!"

"How sweet," he mocked, "The spy fell in love with her victim." He shook his head. "I don't want your pity, Monica."

"It's not--" she stopped, then growled in frustration. "Tell me what he told you!"

"Why?" he challenged.

"Just tell me!" she ordered.

"He told me that you were assigned to me. He said…" he trailed off, and seemed to be trying to recall Peter's words.

"Chandler, tell me his exact words," she asked of him, nicer than before.

"He said you were assigned to me. That if the woman he loved had betrayed him, then he would want to know about it." He scowled, "He mocked me, saying 'why would she want you when she could have me'…"

"Unbelievable!" Monica snapped, "Chandler, he's lying to you!"

"What?"

"He's lying to you!" she reiterated. "Don't you see?!"

He eyed her warily, not quite ready to believe her.

"How could you believe him over me?! I thought you trusted me!"

"I did," he admitted, "But what about the bug?"

She sighed, then nodded, "Ok, look, I knew about the bug--"

"What?!"

"Let me finish, please?" she pleaded, and when his expression softened, she continued. "I went to him, to try to get him to see reason," she admitted. "This was before I knew anything about anything, and I thought that you were stressed and being secretive just because you didn't want him finding out about us."

"You said I could talk to him!" she reminded him. "You said I probably shouldn't, but that it was my right to if I wanted to. I just figured, if I told him that we cared a lot for each other, that he would give you his blessing and things would be better between us."

"But," she continued, "It didn't go according to plan. Not at all. He's a horrible man, Chandler! He said he already knew, and that he could care less who you date, but that you were keeping a secret from him, and that if I could find out what it was, he could return the favor."

"Favor?" Chandler asked, his whole body tense as he listened to Monica's story. "What favor?"

"He said he knew something about one of my friends. Phoebe. He said he would have her deported and arrested if I didn't help him! I freaked out Chandler! I panicked!"

"I don't understand, what did Phoebe do that he could make all that happen?"

"Apparently, several years ago, when she was in Yemen, she was a masseuse for a very rich businessman. Peter said this man accused her of stealing a large amount of money from him, and that this man has the power, if Phoebe were back in his country, to have her arrested. And if found guilty, executed!"

"Oh my God!"

"I know! I didn't know what to do, so, I agreed to help him. I told him I couldn't betray you, but he said I wouldn't have to. He said to wear the watch and just simply ask questions, and that would be the end of it."

"But it wasn't," Chandler surmised, "Was it?"

She shook her head. "When you asked me about the watch, I couldn't think of a good lie fast enough. When I said it was from Peter… he heard me say that. He knew that was why you took it and broke it. When I called him after you sent me home, he said I didn't own up to my end of the bargain, so he was going to call the guy in Yemen! That's why I went to see you! That's why I showed up at your apartment! I was going to fess up and tell you everything. And see if you could help me with what to do about Phoebe."

"When I got to your place," she went on, "And I saw all those guys, and I met your father, I got scared and backed out. I thought I might be in danger if I said something at that point, seeing as how everyone there was an enemy of Peter's. And here I was, someone who had allied with him for the sake of my friend."

"In danger, with who? Me?"

She shrugged, "Maybe you. Maybe not you, I didn't know. That Frank guy maybe? Point is, I didn't tell you, not because I was helping Peter, but because I was afraid to. I immediately went home and called Phoebe. She didn't answer, cause she had gone to bed early, but she came by shortly after you left for work this morning." She started to cry, "She's scared, Chandler, and so am I. We don't know how to fix this. She's afraid to leave her apartment. She's afraid to open the door when someone knocks."

He fought the desire to take her in his arms and comfort her, still not sure what to believe.

"You don't believe me," she asked as she wiped at her wet cheeks. "Do you?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I want to, but, I just don't know."

"I'll have Phoebe come over," she suggested, "And tell you."

"She could lie just as easily," he countered.

"As easily as what?"

"As anyone," he replied.

"You mean as me," she said what he avoided saying.

"Look, I don't know who to believe anymore," Chandler told her. "I want to believe you, but I just-- I can't-- I can't risk my heart."

"When we first started this, and you had all these secrets, you asked me to trust you. And I did! I trusted you completely! And now I'm asking you to trust me."

He made a gesture as if to say the situations weren't the same, but she stopped him before he spoke.

"Chandler, look at it this way. Ok, you said that today went ok, right?" He nodded. "If I had been working for Peter… you told me a lot of stuff when I went to see you. If I was working for him, I would've told him everything! I mean, doesn't that stand to reason? And if I had, would things have gone ok today? Or would things have gone horribly bad?"

Chandler had to admit, what she was suggesting made sense. And it would be just like Peter to do something like that. Lie in order to save face in the aftermath of defeat.

"It would have gone worse than bad," he relented.

"Doesn't that alone give you some idea of who's lying and who's telling the truth?"

He didn't answer right away, but when he did speak up, he didn't really respond directly to her question. "I wasn't always like this, you know."

"Like what?"

"Cynical. Paranoid of my own shadow. I used to have a life. Friends. But then all of this started, and I started to see another side to people. Nice, kind, your best friend to your face, then they would turn around and stab you in the back. I guess it's going to take some time for me to be a trusting person again."

"So," she asked reluctantly, "Does that mean you believe me?"

"I don't know. I think so. It's kind of a crazy story to make up," he acknowledged, "And what would you have to gain by continuing the charade."

She smiled with relief, then wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you," she whispered before kissing his lips briefly. "The thought of losing you is terrifying. I really need you right now."

"You need me, or my help?"

She smirked at him, then patted his cheek. "Both," she told him, then kissed where her hand had made contact with his face. "We're gonna really need to work on your self confidence a bit, aren't we?"

He nodded, "Among other things," he teased as he moved his hand down her back.

"All in good time," she said with a grin, moving his hand off her ass. "First, what about Phoebe?"

He sighed and took a step back, his serious face returning.

"Do you have any ideas for how to stop Peter from calling that guy in Yemen?"

"Not off the top of my head," he admitted, "But maybe we can come up with something."

She just looked blankly at him for a minute, her expression concerned as no ideas came to mind.

"Maybe I should talk to Phoebe, and get some idea of what happened and stuff."

Monica nodded, just happy to be moving forward in any way on the task of saving her friend from deportation, or worse. "She's home now," she informed, pointing across the hall.

Chandler gestured for her to lead the way, then fell in behind her as she opened her door and took the three steps to Phoebe's door, knocking once there.

Phoebe peeked out through the peephole, seeing Monica there a relief. "Mon," she called out from behind the closed door, "Are you alone?"

"No," Monica called back. "Chandler's with me."

There was a pause. "Can he be trusted?" Phoebe asked.

"Yes," Monica replied assuredly.

The sound of the locks being unlatched could be heard, then Phoebe slowly opened the door and peered out at Monica and Chandler. She nodded a hello at Chandler, then stepped aside and out of the way. "Come on in."

Monica entered first, followed closely by Chandler, who noticed immediately that Phoebe wasn't alone.

"You remember Joey," Monica said to Chandler, it more of a statement than a question.

Chandler nodded, then extended his hand. "Yeah. Hi."

Joey shook his hand, a cordial yet lopsided smile on his face. "Hey," he said with an up-nod, then turned his attention back to Phoebe.

She looked like she had been crying, and Chandler wondered if her tears had anything to do with the predicament with Peter.

"Chandler is going to help us figure out what to do about this whole Yemen situation," Monica informed Phoebe and Joey.

"Doesn't he work for the guy?" Joey asked, looking at Chandler defensively.

"Not anymore," Chandler replied.

"It's a long story," Monica interjected, "But believe me, he can be trusted. And if anyone can get us out of this, he can."

"No pressure there," Chandler quipped nervously. "I have no love for the guy, believe me," he assured them, "So there's no problem there. But I don't know if I can help or not, to be honest with you," he added. "I can sure try though."

Phoebe nodded. "Thank you," she uttered gratefully, her tone and expression showing how worried she was. "What-- What idea did you have?"

"None," he answered bluntly, "At the moment. But I think if I knew more about what happened. Get your side of this, find out what Peter thinks he has on you, then I think we may be able to come up with a line of defense."

"Alright," Phoebe agreed, then gestured for him to take a seat. "It all started about 3 years ago…"

TBC

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