Never Assume

~part 4~

Once again, thanks so much for all the reviews. I love Christmas time. And I don't need a guy, especially not one with (wait for it, Katie, here it comes…) "intimacy issues." LOL, never laughed so hard in my life…but newayz, here's you people's Christmas present from me, and I didn't get the characters that I hinted at wanting for my birthday, so if you're wondering what to get me, I'll still take them…If some of this stuff isn't really how the mob works or would handle something, then I'm sorry, I have no affiliation with them or have ever, so…it might not be right. Oh, and I'll tell what year this is taking place, I'll put 1998 if it's in the past or 2000 if it's the "present." Okay…

~2000~

"So, I-I guess I have a lot of explaining to do," Monica started, not even sure of where to begin. "My name, I guess. Andrea. Andrea Hansen."

"What?"

Monica sighed, knowing that telling him anything, even just being with him was a risk, and not knowing how much she should tell him. "They told you that I was dead…I-I've been in the witness protection program for the past two years," she said quietly, looking down. "And I shouldn't even be here with you…I don't know what made me turn around when I thought I saw you."

"I know what made me turn around," Chandler said, and she looked up at him. "You have no idea what hell I've been through the past couple of years."

"At least you had people there with you, I was alone," Monica snapped back, bitterly.

"Jesus, I'm sorry, Mon," Chandler looked at her, realizing for the first time that her hair was much shorter, much lighter than it had been before.

Monica looked back, watching him study her. "So, um, why are you in Chicago?"

"Business trip," he replied, his eyes still not leaving hers. "I have another meeting in 20 minutes, actually," he momentarily looked away, glancing at the clock before turning his vision back to her. "I was just gonna get something to eat and go back."

"Oh," Monica said, slightly disappointed. "It's probably best that you leave anyway."

"Yeah," he agreed, "And if I don't leave now I have a feeling I'll never be able to go." He paused, looking at her, never wanting to look away, let alone walk away. "God, I don't even know what to say."

Monica smiled, "Me neither."

Chandler sighed slowly. "Well, I…I'd probably better go," he motioned to the door, not meaning a word of it.

"Yeah, probably," Monica repeated, just as unconvincingly.

Chandler moved closer, cupping her face and gently kissing her on the lips. He pulled back slightly, brushing her hair out of her face. There was so much to say, so much to ask, so much to be told. He wanted to ask her what had happened, how horrible had it been to go through all of it alone, and then kiss her and make it all better. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he'd always loved her and that not telling her sooner had been his only regret. He wanted to tell her that he'd almost died when they told him she was dead, that he hadn't even wanted to live without her,

"Don't cry," Monica whispered, seeing the tears threatening in his eyes. "Just pretend that today never happened…keep going like you have been for the last two years."

Chandler shook his head, "God, I haven't even wanted to keep going for the past two years, though," he whispered. "And I'd rather have had the last 15 minutes with you, knowing that you're alive, than lived the rest of my life not knowing," he kissed her again.

Monica was the one to pull back, knowing that his kisses had somehow always had a way of completely dissolving her will power, and that she wouldn't be able to let him go if it lasted much longer. "Bye, Chandler."

"Bye," he whispered back, taking one last long look at her before walking out the door.

~*~

Chandler watched the people getting on and off the L, hoping that, by chance, Monica might be one of them. But she wasn't.

He was going home. He was on his way to the airport. He was going back even though he'd found Monica. Going back to pretend that everything was back to normal, to act like nothing had happened.

God, how could he just pretend that he didn't know she was alive and exactly where she was.

He couldn't.

He couldn't just pretend. He'd hardly been able to move on in the past two years. He'd never completely gotten over Monica. Actually, he'd never gotten over her at all, and he had never stopped blaming himself for what had happened. He'd buried himself in his work, needing something, anything, to concentrate on other than Monica. He didn't make jokes anymore. He wasn't sarcastic as much, and the sarcasm that was there was bitter and spiteful, not funny. He'd pretty much all but stopped living without her, and now he knew she was alive.

And he knew where she was.

Chandler pushed his way through the crowd, barely making it through the closing doors.

He could see Monica's apartment building from where he was standing.

Running to get there, he prayed that she was home. She had to be home, just had to be. He stood at her door, trying to catch his breath as he slowly knocked.

She wasn't home.

He nervously rocked back and forth from his heals to his toes. She wasn't answering…She wasn't home.

Giving up, he turned to leave, his heart falling.

"Chandler?" Chandler turned back around at the sound of Monica's voice. "What are you doing here?"

Chandler walked back, "I couldn't leave," he said softly, walking inside when she held the door open for him. "I've all but given up without you…I can't live knowing that you're alive and that I can't be with you…I can't, Mon. And I know it's selfish, and just say you want me to, and I'll leave right now and never come back, but I just had to see you again. Cause I love you, Monica. I never told you that I love you and I've spent the last couple of years with that burden. I can't-"

"Chandler, shut up," Monica laughed at his rambling. "And I never got to tell you that I love you, either," she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck. "And, god, I can't believe I almost let you leave," she kissed him, pulling him in the direction of her bedroom. "I don't think I can live without you, either, now that I've seen you again."

"We shouldn't be doing this, should we?"

"If I say that I don't care either way, will you?"

"Hell, no," he replied before going back to kissing her as she started to unbutton his shirt.

It was worth the risk.

~1998~

Tommy Gambino stared at the newspaper. It, stupidly as the media quite often did, revealed the woman who had witnessed the hit as Monica Gellar. Now he knew who she was. And he also knew for a fact that she wasn't dead. He now had a name. Sure, they probably changed it, moved her out of New York…but that didn't mean there weren't ways of finding her. And there was one thing that was for sure.

The girl had to die.

To

Be

Continued…

Please review…And Merry Christmas!!!