A/N: Thank you for the reviews... again. Sorry this took so long to put up. I'm reworking part of the story, and plus I've got a ridiculous amount of homework for the next couple of weeks.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. Friends is the property of NBC, and WB, and "Losing Grip" is the property of Avril Lavigne.

CHAPTER FOUR - Empty

In the seconds they kissed, Monica was brought back to a time ten years before... the only other time they'd kissed. The time they said it would never work...

December 20, 1989

Monica and Rachel plowed through the driving snow to the front door of the small cabin. Monica fumbled for the key and opened the door. The two girls, 20 now, entered, bringing snow in with them. They were on a Christmas vacation to the mountains to ski. The cabin belonged to an uncle of Monica and her brother, Ross, and they, along with Monica's best friend Rachel and Ross's best friend Chandler, were staying for three days.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Monica said, pulling off her coat. Rachel nodded and placed her skis carefully against the wall.

"Don't take too long. We're meeting for dinner at the lodge in forty five minutes," she reminded her. Monica nodded and headed upstairs.

She took an extended, hot shower. She looked down at herself as the scalding water dripped down her body and sighed. 100 pounds in one year - it was a fat person's miracle. Sure, she looked great, but she felt unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Empty. Food had been her comfort, her love. The one ray of hope in her life, the life of being the fat sidekick to her Prom-Queen best friend, little sister to her genius older brother, daughter to her mother, who criticized her endlessly and her father, who didn't get her... girlfriend to none.

Monica stepped out of the shower and goose bumps popped up on her arms and legs before she could wrap a towel around her body. She stepped out of the steamy bathroom and into the cold hall. She was walking down the hallway, staring out the window at the snow, when someone bumped into her. She shrieked and the towel slipped down her body, revealing the top of her breast. She quickly pulled it up again.

She finally looked up and saw Chandler standing there, his mouth hanging wide open. "Chandler!" she screamed. He immediately spun away.

"I didn't see anything," he lied. "I really didn't."

"Oh my God, you scared the shit out of me," she said, clutching the towel tightly.

"I'm sorry," he said, still turned away. "I am so, so sorry."

''It's okay," she said, her heart still beating rapidly. "Now, is there a reason you practically killed me or were you just coming up here for the hell of it?" She'd never spoken to Chandler like this. Despite his dorkiness, she was terribly intimidated by him. She wasn't sure if it was the fact he was obviously petrified right now, or that she was naked, but something had made her stronger, braver.

"Oh, um, yeah," Chandler mumbled. "But, uh, do you maybe want to get, get changed first? You're probably not, uh, comfortable with, ya know..."

"Right," Monica said, blushing. "I'll be right back." She hurried off to the large room she and Rachel were sharing and quickly put on some comfortable jeans and a shirt. Then she brushed her hair out, slicked on some lip gloss, and went downstairs, where Chandler was standing near the window, watching the snow.

"Hey," she said, touching his shoulder gently. He jumped. "Sorry - did I scare you?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

"Let's just say we're even," he said, turning around and smiling at her. "Listen, I really am sorry about earlier - "

"Forget about it," she said. He nodded, and went back to staring out the window. "Is something wrong?" He seemed distracted and removed. Monica felt a little awkward talking one-on-one with him like this, but she pressed on. "Did anything happen?"

"Well, no, not really," Chandler said. "I just - I found this letter from my dad in my backpack." He pulled an wrinkled envelope out of his pocket. "It's from like eight years ago. Right after he left." Monica knew Chandler had a strange past and a father who'd pulled a disappearing act, but little more. "It's just sort of - rattled me."

"Oh," Monica said softly. Chandler had so many more layers than she knew - every time she talked to him she discovered one.

"Oh!" he said suddenly. "Ross and Rachel went to get food from the grocery store, and they'll probably be back in an hour or so. We heard at the lodge that a snowstorm's coming, so everybody's stocking up. We're just staying here for dinner. That's - that's what I was going to tell you before."

"I see," Monica said. In a movie, she thought, the heroine would say seductively, So we're all alone. All she managed was, "So we're stuck here." Fantastic observation, heroine.

"Yeah." Monica plopped down onto the couch and stared into the fire. Chandler stayed near the window.

"I wonder if any of the channels are coming in," Monica mumbled, standing up to fiddle with the TV antennae. At that moment, the lights when out. "Dammit," she said as they were plunged into total darkness.

"I think we lost power."

"Yeah, or else someone just turned out every light in the house just to freak us out," Chandler said sarcastically, but with a shaking voice.

"There's flashlights next to the refrigerator," Monica remembered suddenly. She walked through the kitchen and heard Chandler follow her. They both reached for the flashlight, sitting on the floor, at the same time, and bonked heads. "Ow," they said simultaneously, rubbing their foreheads. Slowly, Monica and Chandler straightened up, their noses inches apart. Despite the darkness, electricity crackled between them.

Something is going to happen, Monica thought. They both leaned forward, and their lips gently met. You're kissing, she thought. She'd never really been kissed before. You're kissing Chandler. You're kissing Chandler Bing, Ross's best friend...

They both leaped away in a sudden flurry of motion. The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Monica stood perfectly still, waiting for Chandler to say something.

"We shouldn't," he finally murmured. "You're Ross's little sister."

"Mmhmm," Monica said.

"He'd kill me."

"Yeah."

"I have a bad track record with women. I know nothing would ever work. You're really great, it's just, you're Ross's little sister and it would be - "

"Chandler," she said, cutting off his ramblings. "It's okay. Don't say anymore." She sighed. "I know it would never work. So let's just leave it at that and be friends. Okay? This never happened."

"Right," he said. He thought for a second, then said, "Could it maybe have happened except not with you? Kissing a girl in a blackout is a great story..." he said, smiling.

"Sure," she said. "Whatever." She leaned forward tentatively and pecked him on the cheek. "Now let's go fix that circuit breaker."

*********

Monica remembered that night clearly as they kissed - and she also remembered how it ended. Gently, this time, she broke apart, her lips feeling cold and bare. It had felt right with Chandler there. It had felt nice.

Chandler looked at her, his lips still parted slightly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Monica said. "And don't say anything. We've had that conversation before." She smiled regretfully.

Chandler nodded, his ears reddening like they always did when he was embarrassed. Monica could feel adrenaline pumping through her body, her lips tingling, her lower area warm.

After several minutes of silence, Chandler said, "You know what would make this moment a little more comfortable?"

"What?" Monica asked.

"Beer," he said. "Got any?"

Monica smiled. "No," she said. "Sorry. But we could go down to the resort for dinner."

"Sounds good." They did not speak about the kiss again that night.

In the middle of the night, Monica tossed and turned in her bed. Something was on her mind. Well, something was on her mind every night - she'd almost turned into an insomniac. But tonight there was something she could do about it. She got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to the family room, where Chandler was asleep.

She knelt next to him and watched him. He looked so peaceful, sleeping like a baby. She'd missed him so much over the time she was gone... that's why she'd called him. She missed the rest too, but the way she missed Chandler was like a longing, deep in her heart. She contemplated not waking him as she leaned closer.

"Ahhhhrrghhh!" Chandler yelled, opening his eyes. Monica jumped back. "What are you doin'?"

"I'm watching you sleep," she replied, grinning widely.

Chandler's face relaxed as he remembered the night, years before, when they'd been in this same situation. "You know I hate it when people watch me sleep."

"You really are adorable," she said.

"So why are you really out here?" he asked, more seriously.

"I couldn't sleep," Monica admitted. "I need to talk to you about something." She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Come here," he said, opening his arms for her. Tentatively, she crawled onto the loveseat and under the blanket. She let him hold her, something he hadn't done since she'd married Richard. "Now what's the matter?"

"Everything," she replied. Nothing, she thought. Nothing, here in your arms. Ugh, that sounded so cliched. "I don't know if I can really stay out here. I love the city. It's my home. And I love you guys. It's just... like I said before, everything there will make me think of Richard. Or Phoebe. And that just hurts so much..." he throat closed up. "I am not going to cry. I'm not. Oh, yes I am," she wailed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"Shhh," Chandler murmured. "Shhh."

"Am I destined to be unhappy? Am I going to be alone forever?" Monica asked desperately.

"No," Chandler said, rocking her back and forth. "No. I'll make sure of that."

Ten minutes later, she fell asleep in his arms. They slept there together all night.

Cryin' out loud

I'm cryin' out loud

Cryin' out loud,

I'm cryin' out loud

Copyright 2002, Avril Lavigne, "Let Go"