The One With The President
Chapter 14
By: Jana~
*****~*****
--Chandler was vaguely aware of the shouted questions, of the public relations advisor trying to quiet and calm the members of the press, but none of that was a top concern for him as he left the podium and headed for his office.
"What the hell did you do," Ross moaned as he followed Chandler closely, which was no easy task due to the near-sprint he was in.
"I told the truth," Chandler replied, his stride remaining steady.
"The truth?! That's the press room, not a confessional!" Ross snipped, causing Chandler to glare his way briefly.
"Don't start with me, Ross," Chandler warned, his pace never faltering.
"You can't just go off on tangents every time the mood strikes you, Chandler!" Ross scolded as he struggled to keep up. "Now we have to think damage control."
"Why?" Chandler challenged his advisor. "I didn't say anything bad!"
Ross exhaled sharply, exasperated. "What if you can't get Monica back? What if she doesn't forgive you? The American people might think it's because there was some truth to all the things you just denied out there today!"
Chandler made a gesture of dismissal. "I don't care about that!"
"Ok," Ross offered instead. "What if the American people decide that you're telling the truth? They might then decide that Monica is a bitch for not forgiving you and taking you back!"
Chandler slowed for a step or two at the thought of that, but his pace picked right back up again. "We'll deal with that if and when the time comes."
"But we wouldn't have to if you hadn't gone off half-cocked, spouting off about your personal life!" Ross explained, his tone of voice and indication of just how upset he was.
"I'll have you know I was fully cocked when I started spouting off," Chandler quipped, which got an exasperated sigh from Ross in response.
"Why do I even bother?" Ross asked rhetorically, as he threw his hands in the air in frustration.
"Ross, relax," Chandler ordered. "Take a chill pill or something," he added, to which Ross just rolled his eyes. "Ok, Joey," Chandler glanced at his speech writer, "You're up."
"Half the speech!" Joey whined. "Half the speech, gone!" Wild hand gestures to illustrate just how upset he was accompanied his rant.
"I'm sorry, Joe," Chandler apologized. "My mind was elsewhere."
"Why do you have me on staff again?"
"To write me speeches I never finish?" Chandler replied with a chuckle, then grew serious in response to Joey's reaction. "The very next speech you write, I promise I will finish in its entirety."
Joey shook his head and fell back a few paces, grumbling to himself.
"Phoebe," Chandler addressed her, and she double-stepped a few times to catch up to him.
"Yes, sir?"
"I need a car," he told her as he entered his office, his entourage following him straight in.
"Yes, sir, I'll have your car--"
"No, no," he corrected her, spinning around to face her. "I don't want my car, I want some plain non-presidential car."
"Sir?" she questioned him, confused.
"I want to go to Monica's, but I don't want it turned into a federal case. I don't want to issue an executive order, and I don't want a motorcade following me! I just want to go to my girlfriend's apartment in a plain ordinary automobile and grovel for her forgiveness. Now," he added, "Can you work your magic and arrange that?"
"Yes, sir," she replied with the hint of a smile, then immediately went to work on that task.
"Sir," Ross offered his opinion, "I don't think that's such a good idea."
"I have to get her back, Ross," Chandler replied as he plopped down into the large chair behind the even larger desk. "Can you just take the advisor hat off for a minute and put on the friendship hat instead?"
"I am your friend, Chandler," Ross insisted, "But sometimes, friends have to dole out tough love."
Chandler raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk. "Tough love, huh?"
Ross nodded. "That's right! It is not safe for you to go over to Monica's without any agents! Without even doing a security sweep!"
"You're paranoid," Chandler casually dismissed his concerns.
"No, I'm not! You are unrealistic! This isn't like the flower shop, which, by the way I also thought was taking an awful risk! Nearly the entire country heard that speech today! You all but told them you were going to Monica's! It only takes one whacko with a gun showing up and you'll leave this office a lot sooner than you had anticipated! And in a body bag!"
"You're so melodramatic," Chandler muttered.
"Look, you may have a death wish, but I'm not about to stand idly by while you place yourself in harm's way!"
"Oh, you're not?" Chandler queried with a hint of jest in his tone.
"No," Ross glared slightly, "I'm not! Not when there are safety precautions we can take to assure you don't get your fool head blown off!"
Chandler sighed, deciding to ignore the 'fool head' comment as he hit the intercom button, "Any luck Pheebs?"
"Still working on it, sir," the disembodied voice replied.
"Thanks." Chandler turned his attention back to Ross.
"Let the agents do a security check first, at least!" Ross pleaded.
"It'll take them too long!" Chandler shot back. "She could be half way to China by the time they're done!"
"She's not planning a trip to China, Chandler! This is just you being stubborn!" Ross snapped. "If not that, then, let the agents bring her to you!"
Chandler scowled in thought. "What if she refuses to come?"
Ross shrugged, his expression and gesture indicating that her refusal wouldn't necessarily matter.
"No!" Chandler barked. "I will not have her brought here against her will! She has to want to come! God, Ross, this isn't some gangster movie, for crying out loud!"
"I'm not suggesting that she be hit over the head and thrown into a burlap sack, Chandler. Just to simply persuade her that she needs to accompany the agents back here to see you."
"No," Chandler reiterated. "Absolutely not. That is not an option."
"Stop tying my hands!" Ross snapped.
"Stop trying my patience!" Chandler shot back, standing abruptly, his stance combative.
"Look," Joey interrupted the near-fight. "Ross is just concerned about you. We all are! None of us want a repeat of the Raney Elementary incident, ok? So, let's just all calm down here and try to come up with a solution that everyone can live with. Alright?"
Chandler nodded, then looked away from Ross, helping to diffuse the tension. "Fine," he mumbled, then retook his seat.
Ross threw Joey a look of gratitude for backing him up before turning to take a few steps away from Chandler's desk.
"What if we have Rachel bring her?" Joey suggested after a needed pause. "Have Ross call her and explain things to her. Rachel could probably talk Monica into coming fairly easily."
"Unlikely." That one simple word caused everyone in the room to turn attention to the individual whom uttered it. "She doesn't have a license and she hates Dupont Circle."
"Monica," Chandler whispered, bolting up out of his chair as she entered the room.
She smiled at him, but it dropped gradually as she looked at the ever-serious Ross and the slightly confused Joey. "Hi Joey. Ross."
"Hey, Monica," Joey nodded. "We were just leaving." He nudged Ross, who quickly agreed and followed out the door.
"I'm surprised you're here," Chandler muttered, his eyes locked on hers.
"I could leave--" she offered, a sadness to her expression.
"No, no," he quickly stated, his hands palms-out, the gesture implying that she misunderstood what he meant. "It's not a bad surprise…" Her smile returned. "It's a good surprise," he told her. "A very good surprise."
"I heard your speech," she informed, then waited for his response to her simple remark.
He nodded. "I didn't say those things to get you to come back," he assured her. "I said them because I meant them."
"I didn't come back because you said those things," she replied softly, approaching him. "I came back, because I love you."
She threw her arms around him, bringing him into a tight embrace, sighing contentedly when he wrapped his arms around her in return.
Relief washed over him at having her back in his arms, and he vowed right there and then, silently to himself, that he would never lose her again.
"I love you too."
*****~*****
--Chandler plopped down in his comfortable chair, totally exhausted from the day's and evening's events. With a large yawn he clicked on the TV, loosening his tie as he surfed through the channels.
"And in his Inaugural speech," the anchor of the news show Chandler had stopped on reported, "President Bing promised to work to build a single nation of justice and opportunity."
"Yes I did," he said to his television, talking over top of the reporter as he kicked off his shoes. "Now tell me who won the game!"
"Talking to the TV again?" Monica asked as she appeared in the doorway, already dressed for bed.
"Man, you change fast," he pointed out, smiling and gesturing for her to join him.
She approached with a smirk, then curled up on his lap. "Come to bed," she ordered. "Mr. President."
Wrapping his arms around her waist, he whispered, "I will, Mrs. President."
She leaned in to accept his kiss, his hand inching under her robe to find her wearing nothing beneath. He smiled against her lips.
"Skepticism surrounded the campaign in the early weeks following the announcement that he would be seeking a second term, critics claiming that it was his new bride, Monica Geller who was pushing him to run. The controversy prompted the president to hold a press conference, to assure the American people that although his wife stood in support of his decision one hundred percent, it wasn't her wish that he run for a final term, but his."
Monica glanced at the TV, briefly noting how the reporter's serious tone of voice matched her equally serious attire before she snagged the remote from her husband and quickly pushed the power button.
The TV went black as she tossed it aside, making it near impossible for Chandler to retrieve it.
He groaned, "But I wanted to check out the scores!"
"It's not like you had money on the game," she teased. "The scores will be there tomorrow." She climbed off his lap and took his hand. "Come to bed."
"Leader of the free world and I am getting bossed around by my wife," he muttered jokingly, pushing off the chair with his free hand as she led the way to their bedroom.
She smiled to herself. "As it should be," she quipped, dragging him along behind her. "As it should be."
THE END
Ok, that's it. All done. I know this chapter was a bit short, but I hope you liked it none-the-less. Even though this is the last chapter, please click below and leave a review!
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