A/N: Hey! Well I just thought I'd tell you that this chapter is short and mainly just fluff, leading up to the next chapter... sorry! And honey... don't take it personally - I think it's an honor to be in a story! (you know who you are :D)

CHAPTER FIVE

The next day, Monica was sitting in the staff room of her restaurant, eating a bologna sandwich she'd picked up from Subway, when there was a knock on the door. Monica frowned. Who would be there knocking? Annoyed, Monica went to open the door, thinking maybe it was a lost customer.

"This is the - " she began as she opened the door, but was cut off by a pair of lips. Chandler threw his arms around her and pushed her back into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. She giggled and pulled away.

"My God, you scared me!" she cried.

"Sorry," he said. "But I couldn't resist." He held her at shoulder length and looked at her. "Wow, lookit that apron! You really are cute," he teased.

"Shut up," Monica said, giggling again.

"Happy to," Chandler said, kissing her. They fell against the wall, making out until they were out of breath. Monica felt a burning, itching desire to rip of all his clothes. Her hands groped for his belt buckle.

"Hey, Mon - " Morgan, another waitress who Monica didn't really like, said as she entered. Monica broke away to glare at her. "Oh, sorry. Who's this?" she asked flirtatiously, smiling coyly at Chandler.

"Chandler Bing," Chandler said, holding out his hand graciously.

"Morgan Louis," Morgan said.

"He's my boyfriend," Monica said forcefully, putting her arm around Chandler's waist and squeezing tightly.

"I see that," Morgan said, smirking at her. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Chandler. Break's over in ten minutes, Monica." She left, swaying her hips.

"She's seems nice," Chandler said, half-grinning at Monica.

"Please," Monica sighed. "The girl is the biggest slut this side of the Hudson. She tries to steal all of the other waitresses boyfriends!"

"So I'm your boyfriend, huh?"

"Oh, you thought you could get out of the title, did you?" Monica asked comfortably. "Well, ya can't." She kissed him again, and both were lost in passion. A few minutes later, Monica fixed her blouse, which had come undone, and said, "I really have to get back to work."

"All right," he said. "Wanna do something tonight? I can get tickets to any Broadway play..."

"You want to go to a Broadway play?" Monica asked with a laugh as she reapplied her lipstick. Chandler was mature for his age, but not that mature.

"No, but I figured you would," Chandler said, shrugging.

"Well, I wish I could, but my Ross and Carol are going out and they're bringing Lizzie back right after work.

"Ooo-kay," Chandler drawled. He came up behind Monica and put his arms around her, kissing her neck. She closed her eyes, shivering with pleasure.

"I reeeeallly have to get back to work," Monica groaned.

"All right," he said, pulling apart. "I'll call you later?"

"Definitely," Monica said. He started to leave, and turned around and smiled one more time, one dazzling, irresistible smile. Feeling light-headed, Monica put on her apron and went back to the kitchen.

To weeks passed by, and Monica and Chandler saw each other almost every day. It was as though no time at all had passed. They were back right where they'd been before - totally and completely in love.

But all the time, they were both painfully aware that the summer had only a few weeks left, and at the end of those weeks, Chandler would be leaving. They acted just like they had during that last summer, two years before - pretending everything would go on just like it was, pretending it was an endless summer. Monica didn't want to lose Chandler again, and for more ways than one.

He immediately bonded with Elizabeth - which, come to think of it, wasn't that surprising, considering he was her father. They had the same electric blue eyes and the same little dimply grin. Monica prayed that Chandler would be a typical guy and not notice these things.

She was struggling with the notion of telling him. It was cruel not to. But if she did, it could ruin everything. He would be angry with her for lying for so long, for withholding their child from him. And then - what would he do at the end of the summer? Would he stay? That was the only reason Monica wanted to tell him. If he knew he had a child in the States he might stay. Or he might leave. For good.

One day after the two week mark, Monica and Chandler were hanging out Monica's apartment, sporadically playing with Elizabeth and making out. They were deep in an intense make-out session when there was a loud thump. Monica bolted upright and swiveled around, looking wildly for her daughter.

Then she saw Elizabeth lying on the floor.

Monica and Chandler immediately rushed her to the hospital by cab. She had apparently slipped on a patch of water and was knocked out momentarily. She also had a cut on her forehead from where she'd hit the table, and it was deep enough to require stitches. Monica panicked when she saw her baby on the floor, but Chandler calmly picked her up and carried her downstairs. While they were in the cab, Elizabeth woke up and looked dazed. She began to scream at the top of her lungs.

"Okay, baby, shh," Monica said as she carried Elizabeth into the emergency room. "It's all going to be okay soon. Hi," she said, arriving at the nurses desk. "My daughter fell and hit her head, and, oh my God," she stopped, feeling shaky and hysterical. Chandler put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder gently.

"Okay, miss, we'll take her right in," the nurse said, looking at the baby. Monica and Chandler followed her into a triage room. "What is the baby's name?" the nurse asked.

Monica was too caught up in calming Elizabeth to answer, so Chandler said, "Elizabeth Geller."

"Geller-Bing," Monica corrected automatically.

"What?" Chandler cried, jumping out of his seat. Monica froze, only one thought running through her head.

Oh, no.