A/N: Thank you for all the reviews! Wow, it has been a really long time since I've updated... I'm so sorry! I've been sick. And lazy. But here's the last chapter. Enjoy! And thank Becca for encouraging me to finish! *hugs Becca*

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Period.

CHAPTER NINE - Amazing

Rachel looked shocked as Monica stormed back into the apartment. "What's the matter?"

"Chandler proposed to me," Monica said fiercely.

Rachel stopped moving. "Wha - what?"

"He came back out here, and he apologized and we talked and he told me he loved me and then he asked me to marry him. And then - he said we'd have to live in England. And I, of course, said no! But he refused to come live out here - all he could talk about was his mother's money..." She trailed off, the tears coming hard and fast.

"Mommy?" Elizabeth whispered, and Monica felt tiny arms around her thighs. "You okay, Mommy?"

"I'm fine, sweetie," she said, wiping her eyes. Elizabeth was dressed in pajamas and clutching a doll by the hair. "Listen, baby, Mommy needs to talk to Aunt Rachel for a minute, so why don't you go put your dollies to sleep and then we'll come give you a kiss goodnight."

"Okay," she said, yawning, and again Monica thanked God that her daughter was well behaved.

After Elizabeth had toddled off, Rachel burst out, "Do you realize how many times that boy has made you cry in the last three years, Monica? Do you have any idea? You've cried for him more times than I've gone shopping. It's ridiculous."

"Thank you, Rachel," Monica growled. "But that doesn't help me." She sighed. "God, I want to marry him. I want to marry him and live with him and have sex with him any time I want, and I want to raise Liz with him - I want to have more children with him...''

"Honey, I know how much you want all of that, but look at the facts. He lives in England. He refuses to move - he obviously doesn't care enough about you and Liz to move here! I mean, he left you twice, and then both times he suddenly shows up and wants to get back into your life! Do you realize how unfair that is for him to do that to you? And to Elizabeth?"

"We all make mistakes," Monica murmured half-heatedly. "I sure did."

"But you didn't desert two most important people in your life twice! You've been here, supporting Elizabeth, working your ass off to try to get somewhere in life, and he goes off to school on his mother's money, and then he comes back and gets in your pants - "

"What did you just say?" Monica interrupted, her eyes flashing.

Rachel clapped her hand over her mouth. "Mon, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make a point! You can't let him control you like this!"

"He's not going to control me, okay? Until his wises up and decides what his priorities are, I won't even speak to him."

There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Rachel called.

"It's Chandler," Chandler said. "Is Monica there? I really need to talk to her."

Rachel turned to Monica, who shook her head furiously. "No, she's not here," Rachel lied.

"Don't lie to me, Rachel."

"She's not here!"

"Let me in," Chandler demanded. "Mon, c'mon! We need to talk."

"Go away or I'll call the cops!" Rachel threatened.

Chandler sighed heavily. "All right. Just - tell her I really need to talk to her. And that I - I love her."

"I will," Rachel said. She looked at Monica, whose eyes were filling with tears.

"See? I can keep him away. He doesn't control me!" she said, before falling into Rachel's arms.

The next day, Monica woke up to a late-February snowstorm and a raging headache. She hadn't been able to sleep the night before and was utterly exhausted. She took two Motrin, dropped her daughter off at the baby-sitter's, and went to work, but couldn't focus on anything. During breakfast by itself, she screwed up two orders and burnt a batch of bread. By mid-afternoon, customers were getting frustrated, her boss was getting angry, and Monica was getting sick. They sent her home with only half a day's pay.

When she went outside to catch a cab home, the icy wind almost knocked her over. She put her arm out to hail a taxi, and she fell off the curb and sunk both her feet into slush. A chill ran up her body, and she sneezed violently. She was shivering and feeling light-headed by the time she got into a taxi.

She reached into her purse and realized she only had enough cash to pay for half the ride home. She cursed under her breath and told the driver her problem, batting her eyelashes and trying to sound flirtatious, which was quite a challenge with a cold. The cabbie didn't go for it and kicked her out with eight blocks to go.

With her nose running and her head pounding, Monica staggered home. The biting snow cut into her face like tiny daggers, and a sudden rush of wind knocked her hat off her head. She watched it fly away, her hair whipping around her head.

She was almost to her apartment building when a bicycle messenger - the bane of the streets of New York - came careening toward her. Monica leapt out of the way and landed hard on a patch of ice. She didn't stand up, but sat there, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Monica?" an affectionate voice called through the wind. Monica looked up. Chandler was standing a few feet away, looking down at her with concern.

"Go away," she said, struggling to her feet but slipping on the ice and falling down again. Chandler grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

"Are you okay?" he asked, steadying her.

"I'm fine," Monica said, wrenching her arm out of his grasp. She strode purposefully away from him.

"Mon, talk to me!" Chandler said.

"No!" Monica cried over her shoulder.

"Why can't you just deal with this?" Chandler yelled. "Don't be so stubborn!"

Monica whirled away. "Chandler, get out of my face! I have just had the worst day of my life! I got sent home from work early and I may get fired; my feet are freezing, my ears are freezing, my hands are freezing; my nose is running, I've got a migraine, and my ass hurts!" she screamed. "I cannot deal with you today!" She tried to run away to her apartment, but ended up hobbling.

Chandler grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. He frowned, then put his hand on her forehead. "Mon, you're burning up! Come on, let's get you upstairs."

Monica sagged limply into his shoulder and allowed herself to be led upstairs, too exhausted to fight him anymore. Chandler took her into her apartment and sat her down at the kitchen table. He went into her cabinet, pulled out a teapot and some herbal tea, and put it on the stove. Then he took two aspirin out of the cabinet, grabbed a glass of water, and put them in front of her.

"Take these," he instructed. "Then go change out of your cold clothes."

Monica did as she was told, calling over her shoulder, "Don't let the tea boil over!"

When she came back to the kitchen, dressed in a sweat outfit and with her hair wrapped in the towel, Chandler handed Monica a hot cup of tea. She sipped it and it warmed her insides. She relaxed into the couch. Chandler felt her forehead again.

"You are going to bed," he said immediately.

"But - "

"Mon, you're sick! You need to rest!"

"But Elizabeth - "

"I will take care of her," Chandler said. "Just go to sleep."

Grudgingly, Monica stood up and shuffled towards her bedroom. "I'm still not talking to you," she said before she closed to door.

"I know."

When Monica woke up, her room was dark. She glanced at the clock - 12:32.

Shit, she thought. She'd fallen asleep for hours. But where was Elizabeth? She could barely remember getting home, much less putting her daughter to sleep. She stumbled out of bed and into the hall, where the bright light made her blink. The television was on in the living room, and, squinting, she followed the noise.

Suddenly, she got her answer. Chandler was asleep on her couch, snoring softly. Monica leaned against the doorframe and smiled at Chandler's prone figure. He'd made her get in bed. He'd taken care of Elizabeth and, presumably, got her into bed. Monica considered waking him to tell him to go home, but then pulled a blanket off the couch and covered him with it. She picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

Chandler sat up. "Huh? Who's there?"

"Now you wake up," Monica said, shaking her head.

"What?" Chandler said, staring at her, his eyes bleary with sleep. "Mon? How are you feeling?"

"Much better," Monica said.

"Elizabeth is in her bed," Chandler said with a wide yawn. "The baby-sitter told me what to do - she's a good one, wouldn't leave the baby with me 'til I told her I was her father." He yawned again. "Well, if you're all right, I'll be leaving - "

"No," Monica said suddenly. Chandler looked up at her. "Stay." She sat tentatively on the couch, and he sat next to her. She leaned into him, and he put his arm around her.

"Monica - " Chandler whispered.

"We'll talk in the morning," she said, snuggling up against him and closing her eyes.

Monica woke up to somebody prodding her shoulder. She opened her eyes groggily found herself face to face with her daughter. Elizabeth was standing there, grinning at her, her brown hair tangled, a doll clutched in her hand. Sun was streaming in through the windows, indicating that it was at least mid-morning.

Smiling, Monica settled back into Chandler's warm arms, which were still wrapped around her. Then she wordlessly opened her arms up for Elizabeth, who crawled onto the couch with her. The movement woke Chandler.

"Hey," he said dazedly.

"Morning," Monica said.

"Morning," Elizabeth echoed.

"Lizzie, honey, this is Mommy's friend Chandler. You met him when you were littler but you probably don't remember." She would not introduce him as her father - not yet, she thought, not until I'm sure he'll be around for a long time. I won't do that to my daughter.

Elizabeth nodded. "He gave me a cookie las' night. Before bed."

"Cookies before bed? What were you thinking, Chandler Bing?" Monica teased.

"I guess I'm not quite up to par on the parenting skills," Chandler said seriously. "I'm hoping I'll be around long enough to learn this time."

"Yeah," Monica said, smiling at him. "So do I."

Monica, Chandler, and Elizabeth spent the rest of that day in the apartment, watching TV and staring at the blanket of snow covering New York City. They did not talk about their relationship or their situation in front of their daughter, and Monica could only hope that Elizabeth hadn't noticed them shooting glances at each other when they thought the other was looking.

Monica was thrilled to see the Elizabeth welcomed Chandler into her arms right away - she'd been worried about the little girl's reaction to someone new. But over the course of the day, Monica realized she would adjust very well.

After Monica put Elizabeth to bed that night, she went into the kitchen to find Chandler doing the dishes and listening to a tape of Arethra Franklin. She stood in the door and grinned, watching him dance and sing and wash and dry... it was all too adorable. And in that moment, it felt natural. Monica could imagine Chandler being there every night, doing the dishes together... singing, laughing, being a family...

Monica didn't realize that she too had begun to sing out loud until Chandler spun around, blushing.

"I - it was in the tape player..." he mumbled, his cheeks flaring up.

"You are so cute," Monica said, shaking her head.

"Really?"

"Really." She sighed. "But we still need to talk." She went into the family room and he followed.

"Well, it's certainly an improvement from not talking," Chandler said, plopping down on the couch next to her.

"Now, don't say anything until I'm finished," Monica said. She took a deep breath. "I've made a decision. We can't get married."

Chandler stared at Monica, his mouth slightly open. "I... I... why not?" he asked in shock.

"You live in England, and I live here. I can't leave New York. You have to stay in school, I want you to stay in school."

"I don't understand - " Chandler began, but Monica cut him off.

"But," she said with a smile. "If you give me that ring, I may be able to make you a deal."

"What do you mean?" Chandler asked in confusion.

"You go to school and I'll stay here with Elizabeth," Monica said. "And then, after you've graduated - maybe we can get married then. It's going to be difficult to have a long distance relationship, and I wish that you could be here every second, but - but you can visit, and we can visit you, and Elizabeth will have her Daddy. You can still please your mother and go to school, because even though I don't agree with everything you've done, I have to do what I think is best for us. It won't be easy, but - well, nothing we've done has been easy. How does that sound?"

Chandler stared at her for a minute, lost for words, and then grinned. "Amazing," he whispered, and kissed her. "It's sounds amazing."

June 1990 - 3 Years Later

"When will Daddy's plane get here?" Elizabeth whined, pressing her face against the glass.

"Soon," Monica said. "It'll only be a couple minutes, all right honey?" She was, if possible, even more impatient then her daughter. She picked up the newspaper sitting on the seat next to her and began to read it absent-mindedly.

"There it is!" Elizabeth shouted. Monica looked up quickly and smiled. There was the British Airways airplane, taxiing along the runway toward the gate. Monica stood up and, clutching her daughter by the hand, hurried to the gate.

As they waited, Monica reflected on the past few years. It had been almost three years since Chandler had proposed to her; three years since she'd put on that engagement ring but not been married. Chandler had gone back to school in England, but for the first time Monica didn't feel like he was deserting her. They had a deal - they would be together, they would be a family, as soon as he finished school. He came to New York during the summertime and over the holidays, and Monica and Elizabeth even flew to Europe to see him a few times. And although it had been a difficult relationship, it had all be worth it, because now Chandler was coming home for good.

Several minutes later, people began coming out of the terminal. "Mommy, pick me up, I wanna see," Elizabeth cried, and Monica held her up. Their eyes swept over the crowd, watching families reunite and friends hug.

And there he was. Chandler strode out of the gate and into the throng, carrying a suitcase and a duffel bag, looking tired but happy. "Chandler!" Monica called, trying to edge toward him.

"Daddy!" Elizabeth yelled, waving her arms in the air.

Chandler turned and faced them, and grinned. He pushed through the crowd until he was right in front of them. Monica just stared at him wordlessly for several seconds, and then he dropped his bags and opened his arms. Monica flung herself at him, and he held her and Elizabeth in his arms like he'd never let them go.

"I missed you guys," he whispered into Monica's ear. "I missed you so much."

"But now you're home," Monica said, grinning wildly. "And you'll never leave us again. I guess your heart is still mine."

"It never belonged to anyone else," Chandler murmured, kissing Monica. "And it never will."

THE END

A/N: I hope you didn't hate my lame ending TOO much and that it's not too sudden. I'm really sorry, but writing conditions have not been excellent for me lately. Thanks for reading this story! Love you all! *mwah*

-Jen