The One With The Indecent Proposal

By: Jana~

Chapter Nine

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--The pool felt good, but the spa felt amazing. Muscles she didn't even know she had were being worked on and relaxed as she reclined slightly, resting her head on the concrete edge.

"More wine?" Chandler asked as he topped off his glass.

"Mmm, better not," Monica moaned contentedly. "Because of the heat of this jacuzzi, what I've already had went straight to my head."

With a nod and a smile, he filled his glass, setting the bottle down before lifting his glass and leaning back.

"So," she asked, attempting to start up a conversation, "How did you meet Joey and Phoebe?"

"Well, I met Joey when I put an ad in the paper for a roommate," he shared. "He actually wasn't my first choice, but my first choice fell through. We became best friends almost immediately."

"And Phoebe?" She found herself more interested in how he knew her, than how he knew Joey.

"Shortly after Joey moved in, we met her at this cute little coffeehouse, where she was playing guitar and singing for tips. We just, hit it off. The three of us have been close ever since."

"Like the Three Musketeers," she joked, and he chuckled.

"Yeah, but, we don't dress in tights or engage in sword play or anything."

"Yeah, right," she laughed. "I could just see the three of you, running around in metal armor, jousting or something."

He laughed along. "Well, to be honest, Joey suggested it once. Said it would be fun, but the suits were too heavy. That's when we settled for the suit in the hall, guarding the bathroom."

"I wondered what the story was behind that," she said with a smile and a shake of her head.

"So," she broached after their laughter subsided, "What's the deal with Ursula? Phoebe's sister?"

"Yeah, twin sister, actually." He shook his head, "But, like, the polar opposite in attitude and… in so many other ways as well. She's just, not a very nice person. It's a tragic story, really," he added, "But, I won't go into that."

He offered a slight smile before tipping his goblet of wine to his lips. It was obvious that he wanted to change the subject. "So, how did you meet Pete Becker?"

"I was a cook-slash-waitress at this diner. I took the job cause I needed the money, and the offers from real restaurants, to be a real chef just weren't presenting themselves. Anyway," she continued, "He was a customer. Came in almost every day, but I didn't know who he was. Then, one day, he leaves me a check for $10,000, as a tip!"

"Whoa! Big tip! What did he eat? A million dollars worth of cheesecake and coffee?"

She laughed, "No, actually, his usual was corned beef on rye and a cola, easy on the ice."

"So, $10,000 was way more than fifteen percent."

"Yeah," she said with a snort, "Just a little bit. So, I think he did it just cause he wanted me to have his phone number. He would flirt with me all the time, so, that's what made sense to me, but then I showed the check to my friend Rachel. She recognized his name."

"Long story short," she said with a shrug, "I went over there to tell him I couldn't be bought, he tore up the check; we went out on our first date that night."

"So," she changed the subject, "How about you? Any past significant relationships worth sharing?"

"Only two," he replied. "Janice, who was just so annoying, I found myself wanting to rip my own arm off and beat myself to death with it."

Monica laughed, "Then, why did you go out with her?"

"Temporary insanity?" he offered with a dramatic shrug of his shoulders. "Honestly, I don't know why I dated her. I guess I figured, I couldn't do any better."

"Low self esteem, eh?"

Nodding, he revealed, "I have my parents to thank for that. They weren't exactly the best role models for how to make a relationship work."

"Divorced?"

He nodded. "When I was nine. And, lucky me, they announced their breakup during Thanksgiving dinner."

"Wow. I'm sorry," she said softly, and he shrugged at her offer of sympathy.

"Then there was Kathy," he went on. "The actress. She was in this play, with this super hot costar, and every night, and twice on Saturday, she would be rolling around with this guy on stage, simulating sex. I got insecure, and accused her of having an affair with the guy. Which of course, she denied."

"I still don't know when it started," he admitted. "If it started before or after I accused her, but when I went over to her place to talk it out, there he was, half naked, wearing a towel that was way too small for him and an evil grin. Needless to say," he added bitterly, "It was over then for sure."

"It hurt you bad though," she suspected, "Didn't it?"

"Yeah," he muttered, downing the last of his wine. "Since winning the Lottery," he changed the subject slightly, "I haven't been able to find anyone who likes me for me. They're all after my money."

"Well, I'm not," she assured him, and his attention was hers in an instant.

"Are you saying," he asked with hesitation, "That you like me?"

With a smile he hadn't seen grace her features before, she nodded, moving closer to him. The look between them was intense, and ripe with erotic subtext as Monica leaned in, brushing her lips against his.

Stunned, breathing erratically, he asked against her lips, "Is this because of the wine?"

"I'm not drunk," she assured him, "If that's what you're asking."

"I thought, you didn't want to-?"

"I said no sex," she answered his incomplete question, her lips still hovering near his. "I didn't say anything about no kissing."

"This is true," he whispered, smiling.

Pressing his lips gently against hers, the kiss started out slow and sensual, but all too soon turned into more. Need, desire, it strained against their resolve, begging to be quenched, demanding satisfaction.

"It's too soon," Chandler whispered, panting as if he had just been running. "Pete-"

"Pete and I have been separated emotionally for a very long time," she insisted. "There's no problem there," she promised him.

He pulled away, his body shaking from the effort it took to do so. "I want you Monica, believe me," he told her honestly, "But, not like this. We've only known each other a few hours. The deal we struck is the only reason you're here with me. You just broke up with your boyfriend. We need to go slower than this."

She smiled. "I can respect that."

It had been a long time since she'd felt that wanted, that desirable, and it felt really good. Even better, was that he seemed willing to culture a real relationship, and not just satisfy the desires that were apparent within them both.

In spite of the earlier doubts she had, or maybe it was because of them, she found herself very attracted to the man that sat beside her. That kissed her with a passion she had never before experienced, with Pete or any other man.

***

--The air seemed sexually charged, as they stood opposite one another in the hall, in front of the guestroom, both wrapped in warm terry robes.

"This has been, an interesting day," Monica finally broke the awkward silence. "I had fun."

Chandler smiled. "I did too. If it wasn't so late, I would suggest another game of foosball or something. I'm not ready to say goodnight," he admitted.

"We have all day tomorrow," she reminded. "Remember?"

He nodded. "I remember. And speaking of, I have the most amazing day planned for us."

"Oh yeah?" she asked with a hint of a smirk. "May I ask what's on the agenda?"

He shook his head. "It's a surprise."

"I have a feeling, it will be," she returned in a jovial manner.

The smile he wore grew wider before it dropped completely from his face, his expression turning serious. "It will be a pleasant one. At least, I hope it will be."

"I'm sure it will be," she reassured him, reaching out to touch his shoulder; she could feel her breath catch as he placed his hand gently on her hip, taking a step forward.

Waiting to be sure she was accepting of a goodnight kiss, he leaned in, touching his lips softly to hers.

The kiss was brief; too much more, and he would've lost control for sure.

"Goodnight, Monica."

Speechless, she nodded, giving a small wave as she backed into her room, slowly closing the door and obscuring him from sight.

It was so unlike her, safe and cautious Monica, to be attracted to a man that still had, despite his outward appearance, an air of mystery and doubt about him, but she couldn't help herself. A smile crept across her face as she slowly shrugged off her robe, set to remove her wet swimsuit and crawl into the warm flannel pajamas that still lay where she had placed them earlier in the evening.

Suddenly, so much so that Monica only stared in shock, a piece of the bedroom wall moved, and out of the shadows stepped the blond she had met earlier that evening. She seemed startled to see her, and the two women just looked at one-another for several seconds before the blond intruder finally spoke.

"Well, this complicates things."

Her voice seemed to pull Monica from her near-trance. "What are you doing, Phoebe?"

The woman rolled her eyes. "I don't have time for this," she muttered, then produced a gun from her coat pocket. "Move!" she ordered, gesturing towards the secret passageway she had used to gain access to her room. When Monica just stood cemented in place, the gun was waved in a threatening manner. "I said move!"

Monica startled, then complied, grabbing her terry robe and wrapping it around herself quickly as she entered the dark corridor, followed closely by her abductor.

TO BE CONTINUED…

The author's note in the last chapter was a chunk of a song from the claymation musical 'The Nightmare Before Christmas'. My son adores this movie and I have seen it, because of his desire to play it over and over again, probably fifty times, at least, in the last month or so alone.

Anyway, please take a sec to review, and remember… "Rules help control the fun!"

MTLBYAKY