The One With The Digital Fairytale

Chapter 12

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--"But I swear," Phoebe added as she shared the details of her time in Yemen, "I never stole from him! I never even heard about the accusations until all of this with Becker! I didn't leave because I was trying to escape prosecution!" she exclaimed. "I left because my friend Albino Bob killed himself! I left to attend his funeral!"

Chandler just looked at Phoebe in amazement, not yet familiar with her harsh and unique life.

"Is there a way to find out about this?" Monica asked. "Find out exactly what the charges are without bringing attention to us? Or her?"

Chandler stood, leaving the recliner behind him as he stepped over towards the foosball table. "Maybe," he muttered, turning one of the handles that made the foosball players spin. "I think I have one chance at this," he explained. "I go back to Becker Enterprises tomorrow to pick up my final paycheck. I think maybe, maybe, I can weasel something out of him then."

"Is that safe?" Monica asked worriedly.

He smiled at her reassuringly, "Don't worry, Mon, he won't try anything."

"Not now," he added.

"Not now?" Joey asked, confused.

"A deal was made," Chandler clarified. "He can't touch me."

"What's to stop him?" Phoebe asked.

"Let's just say, it would be detrimental to his way of life if he did."

"What the hell were you involved in?" Joey asked of Chandler, his mind racing with possibilities.

"Nothing I wanted to be," Chandler scoffed. "Believe me."

"I'm just glad it's over," Monica said as she wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him to her; he kissed her hair in response.

"What will you do?" Phoebe asked, slightly uncomfortable about bringing the subject back around to herself. "When you ask Becker about Mr. Aleryani?"

"I don't know," Chandler admitted. "I guess I'll just bring it up and see what he says."

*****

--Chandler could hear murmurs of his former co-workers as he entered the tall building, feeling every eye on him as he headed for the elevator that would take him to what he was starting to think of as 'the floor of doom'. He purposefully did not turn around once he stepped on, not wanting to face the unfriendly looks he would undoubtedly get.

He arrived on the top floor, the doors wooshing open with a ding, then he walked off and towards an ever-dutiful Alice. He smiled when they made eye contact, but she did not return his kind expression.

"Why are you here?"

His genuine smile turned to a smirk of acceptance. "Final paycheck," he stated simply.

She huffed as she hit the buzzer. "Sir, Mr. Bing is here for his final paycheck." She said his name with such disgust, it made Chandler want to cringe.

"Send him in," Peter ordered, immediately clicking off the intercom.

Chandler timidly entered the office, his eyes darting about the room in an effort to avoid looking directly at his former boss.

Peter smiled confidently to himself as he retrieved Chandler's final check from out of his desk drawer. "Here," he said as he extended the envelope, and Chandler hesitated for only a moment before reaching out and taking it.

"Thank you."

Peter snorted a slight laugh as he shook his head, "Why are you here, Bing?"

"Phoebe," Chandler replied. "Phoebe Buffay?" He added her last name for clarity.

"What about her?" he asked distantly, as if her name was nothing more than a mere word of unimportance.

"You have this bullshit story you've been spreading around," he began, only to be cut off…

"You're just assuming it's bullshit," Peter countered arrogantly. "If you had any proof to that, you wouldn't be standing here in front of me, looking like a scared little boy."

"Oh, you would like that, wouldn't you?" Chandler challenged, his fear making way for irritation. "You would like to think you still hold some kind of power over me, but believe me, you don't." he assured him. "And scared? Ha!" he laughed for emphasis. "I'm not scared of you!"

Peter kept the forced smirk on his face, his eyes planted on Chandler, almost as if attempting to stare him down. When Chandler didn't blink or even fidget, he turned away. "You got what you came for," he told him, trying to sound bored with his former assistant, "And I have work to do. So, if you'll excuse--"

"I'm curious," Chandler interrupted, "At what point did you turn from a businessman to a blackmailer? A blackmailer of innocent women you don't even have business with, or even know for that matter. At what point did you decide, as a human being, that destroying lives was acceptable?"

At this, Peter chuckled. "Oh, you think you are just so much better than me, don't you, Bing?" He shook his head as he sat on the edge of his desk. "I learned a long time ago that in the business world, if you want something, you should take every means necessary to get it before someone else beats you to it."

"It's true what they say you know," he added, "Nice guys do finish last."

Chandler gave him nothing in the form of a response. "I know about the little game you were playing with Monica," he changed the subject. "Did you honestly think you could break us up with that obvious lie?"

"No," Peter replied, "I figured you would eventually talk to her about it," He smiled an almost wicked smile, "But I gave you pause to think, didn't I?"

"You really are a petty, petty man, you know? You just can't stand the fact that you lost to someone as 'un-business-like' as me. That someone like me could outwit the powerful Mr. Becker."

"You give yourself way too much credit," Peter scoffed. "Your daddy did most of the work, you were just his puppet on a string."

"Whatever helps you get over your crushing defeat," Chandler taunted. "Is that the only way you can feel like a big man?" he pushed further, "To insult people and play with their emotions like they were your personal playthings?" He shook his head, "Of course, with a man as small as you--"

"You forget who you're talking to, Bing!" Peter growled angrily.

"No, I know perfectly well whom I am speaking to. A cowardly man who has to lie to women to get them to do his bidding." A wicked grin crossed his lips, "I wonder, what else do you lie to women about, in order to get what you need from them?"

The implication was clear.

"This conversation is over!" Peter snapped as he moved to stand behind his desk, his finger poised over the 'page security' button. "Get out!"

Chandler didn't even flinch. "Funny how whenever one is losing in a battle of wits, he so quickly wants the winner to go away."

"You're not winning at anything, you pathetic son of a queer! You forget that I have the power to pick up that phone right now and have your precious girlfriend's friend deported! And arrested! And--"

He sounded flustered to Chandler, and that was exactly what he was hoping for. A man perplexed would be more likely to slip up and say something he otherwise wouldn't.

"You may have fooled Monica," Chandler stated with confidence, "But you don't fool me. Did you think I wouldn't make a few calls? See what I was up against?"

"If you're so sure I'm bluffing," Peter asked, his boldness returning just slightly, "Then why come here at all?"

"I'm here to pick up my check," Chandler replied.

"Then why not just pick it up and leave?" he asked smugly.

"I offered to speak to you on her behalf," Chandler bluffed. "To warn you that if you don't cease and desist immediately with your lies, she will be contacting a lawyer."

Chandler had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was that in order to get Peter to slip up, he needed to keep him flustered.

"She has no grounds!" he barked, not sounding as sure as his words indicated.

Chandler shrugged, "You'll have to take that up with her lawyer."

Peter just scowled for a moment or two, then huffed as he turned away. "Fine. You win!" he snapped. "This is no longer worth my time or energy. Tell Ms. Buffay that she has successfully called my bluff, and that there will be no further accusations from me or from anyone in my 'camp'." He shooed at Chandler like he was an insect that was annoying him. "Now, go. And do not return, or I will have security escort you from the building."

Chandler knew all too well that to be 'escorted' from the building involved pain. He nodded once, then turned to leave. "Just one last thing," he added before opening the door. "You ever call my dad 'queer' again, I will have a thousand gay rights protestors outside this building so fast, you'll consider dating men just to escape the negative publicity." A proud grin spread across his face. "Good day."

--He audibly sighed with relief once outside Peter's door, and his snooty secretary eyed him warily. Chandler smiled politely, knowing before she even did it that she would only scoff in return.

"Guess this is goodbye," he told her, to which she rolled her eyes. "Say goodbye to your flying monkeys for me."

He could hear her mumbling in anger as he walked away, but he never looked back.

*****

--"Well?!" Monica practically attacked Chandler as he walked through the door, and Phoebe immediately stood, taking a deep breath to prepare herself for what was to come.

He smiled as he kissed Monica's worried, pursed lips. "He was bluffing," he informed, not wanting to add to their anxiety by starting off with the long version of the story.

"He was bluffing?" Phoebe repeated, amazed. "What kind of person does that?!"

"The worst kind," Chandler replied. "He thinks of it as something of a game, to play with people like this. Thing is, is sometimes, he really does have info about the skeletons in someone's closet, so I needed to be careful what I said. If I had pissed him off, and he did have something useable, Phoebe coulda been in serious trouble. So," he said with a smile, "I played with him first. Didn't take long to see that he had nothing."

"It was fun watching him squirm for a change!" he added happily.

"So, that's it?" Joey asked, his arm around Phoebe in support. "It's over?"

"Yep," Chandler nodded. "It had never really begun to begin with. He just needed to convince Monica that he had something, so he could use her. And even though his plan backfired, he kept up the charade about knowing that Mr. Aleryani guy. For kicks, basically."

Joey muttered something under his breath, then exclaimed, "I'm gonna go down there and kick that guy's ass!"

He headed for the door, but stopped short and spun around when Chandler called out to him.

"Not a good idea, Joe," Chandler warned him. "You'll get thrown out by security before you even get to the elevators."

Joey, feeling helpless, furrowed his brow as an irritated and lost expression crossed his face. Phoebe consoled him with a hug.

"It's ok, Joey," Phoebe cooed. "I'll put a curse on him, ok?"

Joey seemed to perk up a little as Chandler looked at Phoebe questioningly.

"You can do that?" he asked. "Put curses on people?"

Phoebe pulled away from her embrace with Joey, and as she nodded in the affirmative, Monica was behind her shaking her head 'no'.

"Sure I can!" Phoebe announced. "And I'm psychic too!"

Monica rolled her eyes and shrugged, and Chandler fought to keep in a chuckle at catching his girlfriend's response to the odd blonde woman he was just getting to know.

"Well," he replied with as serious a face as he could muster, "Remind me not to tick you off, then!"

*****

--"Phoebe is an interesting woman," Chandler stated casually as he watched Monica climb into bed.

She froze and looked to him incredulously. "Meaning what?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "What?" he asked, though he knew what her question was implying.

"Interesting, like, 'I wanna date her', interesting?"

"You're jealous!" he exclaimed with a smile.

She scoffed. "Oh I am not!" she denied as she climbed into bed, immediately turning off the bedside light.

He grinned to himself in the darkness of the room, silently listening to the sounds of her annoyed breathing. He knew she wanted to say something further on the subject, but was holding back. Probably because she was concerned about showing him her jealous side, he surmised.

Finally, the uncertainty got the better of her. "Are you attracted to Phoebe?"

"No," he answered immediately. "I'm not."

"I mean, she is blonde, and tall, and some would say she is exotic…"

"And some would say she's a tad looney, too!" he countered with a chuckle. "Besides," he added, "I think she's into Joey."

"They're just friends," she replied.

He shrugged, "I don't know them, so, sure. Maybe. But to me, there seems to be more than friendship between them."

She rolled onto her side to face him. "Joey and Phoebe?"

He shrugged again. "Kinda seems that way to me."

As Monica considered his words, Chandler asked, "She really thinks she's psychic and stuff, doesn't she?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "She thinks she's lived past lives, too."

"Interesting," he murmured softly.

Monica sighed, "Now, you're just trying to ruffle my feathers!"

"No I'm not," he replied with an oh-so-innocent lilt to his voice. "I like your feathers all smoothed down." He grinned mischievously, "Easier to pet you that way."

"Yeah, well, this bird is tired now," she muttered, keeping a yawn at bay. "You can pet me tomorrow."

*****~*****

--Monica checked to see if Chandler was asleep, jostling him slightly and calling his name quietly proving that he undoubtedly was. And a sound sleeper at that.

She climbed out of bed and tip-toed out into the livingroom where she immediately grabbed the phone and dialed the well-known number by heart.

"Hey, it's me," she said quietly into the phone. "He's sleeping. - Yes I'm sure. - No, he has no idea…"

The End?

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If I get enough reviews/interest, I will continue. Otherwise, you will just have to use your imagination as to what's going on.