2 updates, 1 week- can you even believe it???  Haha.  Thank you all for reviewing the last chapter of this, and Long December!!!  Sometimes I just am really lazy and don't feel like updating and then I read how much people want me to, and it really does make me go faster!!  So thank you.  I hope this chapter makes you happy.  Read and review please!

*Maddy*

It had been a week since "the incident", as Rachel now referred to it, and Chandler and Monica had yet to be in the same room together.  She busied herself with work, taking later shifts and skipping lunches, soon forgetting who it was she was avoiding; her husband, or Chandler.  Rachel, to her credit, had kept "the incident" a secret at the separate wishes of both parties.  She had managed to have one, very brief, conversation with Monica about the events of that night, but they were interrupted by Richard turning up at home early, and the two hadn't been able to finish the discussion. 

          It was weird not seeing any of them for a week; Monica couldn't remember if there was a time, besides her honeymoon, that she went that long without hanging out with at least one of them. 

          Thursday night, Richard's late night, had been the high point of her week for a while now, for too long- most couples fought about the spouse who kept late hours.  How twisted was it that she lived for Thursday nights now?  Tonight was a Thursday night like any other- she had big plans to curl up under a blanket on her couch with a glass of wine and do nothing.  No TV, no movies, no book, no newspaper, no music.  Just her, a couch, and nothingness. 

          But when she walked in from work, Richard was sitting on the nothingness couch, with this big stupid grin on his face while he watched her take off her coat.

          "What are you doing here?" she asked, barely managing to mask her immense disappointment.  He pretended he didn't hear it.

          "I took the night off.  It is Phoebe's birthday, after all, isn't it?  I thought you'd want us to be with your friends."

          Could it be that as wrapped up as she'd been in her own messed up life, she'd forgotten it was one of her best friend's birthdays?  She was a worse friend than she was ready to admit, so she told herself she'd remembered it was today, she just didn't know they were celebrating it tonight.

          "Did they call of something?" she asked.

          "When was the last time you listened to the answering machine?" Richard asked, hitting the play button on the table beside him.

          "Hey, Mon, it's your brother.  Just wanted to know what time you can make it on Thursday.  Call me back."

          "Monica, it's me," Rachel's voice came on the machine.  "Ross said he called about Phoebs' birthday dinner but you never called back- is your machine working?  Anyway, seven o' clock on Thursday, at the apartment.  Call so I know you got this."

          "Tonight at seven?" Monica asked.  "I haven't called back yet, that's so-"

          "Unlike you?  I thought so too.  Ran into Ross today.  I told him we could make it."

          Monica nodded briefly; she should say thank you, but she didn't even have the energy.  She was exhausted just thinking about the night that lay ahead, avoiding the topic of last weekend with Rachel, forcing herself to act like a wife to Richard, and seeing Chandler again.

          "Monica, what's going on with you lately?" her husband asked, touching her arm.  She pulled away quickly, and tried to hide the fact that she'd recoiled by scratching her ankle. 

          "Nothing.  Just busy at work.  I'm going to get dressed," she said, making her way towards the stairs.  The answering machine was on message nine now, and when that ended and number ten began, she made a definitely non-discreet beeline for the end table.

          "Mon, pick up the phone," Chandler said to the machine.  "Monica.  Come on, talk to me-" she cut him off abruptly, hitting the delete button.  Richard looked at her, surprised.

          "I heard that one," she tried feebly, hurrying to her bedroom and leaving her husband completely baffled by her behavior.

May 1998

After the one week grace period had passed, Chandler and Monica began hanging out together again, only in a group at first, then gradually one on one.  As dysfunctional as the plan had sounded, it had worked.  The two of them had been inconsolable for a week, refusing to see or talk to anyone, staying in their respective bedrooms and feeling horrible.  When the week was up, it forced them to live up to the bargain they had made, and for some reason, it worked.  There was no fighting, like with Ross and Rachel, no bitter comments, not even too much awkwardness.  It was as if their friendship had never developed into something more; it was like they time warped back to before London.  And even though they both felt a loss of something huge, they were comforted by the fact that they were keeping the most important thing; each other.

          "Happy Birthday, Phoebe!  How old are you, 23?" Richard asked jovially, kissing her on the cheek as they entered Apartment 20, now home to Phoebe and Rachel.  Monica suppressed an urge to roll her eyes; why was it that when Richard made jokes he only succeeded in making himself seem even older?

          Phoebe laughed politely and threw her arms around Monica. 

          "Hey stranger!" she exclaimed.  "I thought you might not make it."

          "I'm so sorry, Phoebe, I've been working nonstop this week.  Happy Birthday," she said, offering the card and gift (she'd at least had that in advance) that she was carrying.

          "No worries, I'm just glad you're here!  And we're all together!"

          "Yeah, all except Chandler," Ross commented as they sat down in the living room, and Monica let out an inaudible sigh of relief she didn't know she was holding.

          "Where is he?" Richard asked.  "It's not a party without the whole gang." 

          Monica wondered for a second if Richard could possibly be as clueless as he came off.

          "Oh, he just went to pick up the cake, he should be back any minute," Rachel said.

          "Really?" Monica asked, an edge of panic in her voice.  Joey stared at her.

          "Did you guys get in a fight or something?" he asked.

          Monica laughed her fake laugh.  "What?  No.  Why?"

          Joey shrugged.  "He's been avoiding you all week, you've been MIA, and you sound nervous that he'll be back soon."  Rachel stepped on Joey's foot as subtly as she could.

          "Since when did you start being observant?" Monica said irritated. 

          "What did you fight about, honey?" Richard asked, placing a hand on her knee.  She gritted her teeth and allowed it to remain there, for the sake of retaining an image of normalcy.

          "We didn't fight.  We've both been busy."

          "I'm going to check on the kieshes.  Mon, can you help me?  I'll mess them up," Rachel said.  Monica shot her the most grateful look possible and followed her into the kitchen.

          "Thank you," she whispered.

          "Of course.  Can we talk-"

          "Not now," Monica said, gesturing to the living room, where Joey was showing Richard and Ross how to play table football with a folded up napkin.

          "Okay.  Hey… what is Richard wearing?" Rachel asked, changing the subject.  Monica looked over, realizing she hadn't even noticed what he had on.  She rolled her eyes at what Rachel was referring to, the bright blue tie with the balloons on it.

          "Oh, that's his party tie," she said in disdain.  Rachel stifled a laugh.

September 1998

"I can't believe she's dating again," Chandler said glumly, confiding in Joey one night after several beers.

"I can't believe she's dating him again," Joey replied.  "He's even older than he was the first time she went out with him."

"Thanks, that's helpful Joe," Chandler said sarcastically.

Monica had broken the news to him first, in their usual "friendly" way, of course, but she felt he should know before anyone else.  She'd run into Richard at some art exhibit, and he had asked her to go for coffee, which turned into dinner, which turned into "a night".  She hadn't relayed exactly what "a night" consisted of, and he didn't want to know.  She was dating Richard.  Again.

And what could he say to her?  Of course he had to give her a hug, tell her he was happy for her.  That's what "friends" do, isn't it?  And so what if he thought for a second that he saw a flicker of disappointment on her face when he faked his enthusiasm?  He'd made his own bed, now it was time to lie in it.

"I just can't believe it," he said again.

"Dude, you broke it off.  What's she gonna do, wait around forever?"

Chandler peeled the corner of the label on his beer.  "No.  I know you're right.  It just feels soon."

"Well it'd be soon for a guy.  But I mean, come on, Monica's got a biological clock, and it's ticking."

Chandler looked at his friend incredulously.  "Where did you learn that?"

"I know stuff!" Joey replied indignantly.  "Oprah," he admitted off of Chandler's disbelieving stare.

          Chandler swung open the door, holding the cake, and felt his heart thump faster in his chest than he thought could possibly be healthy when he saw her in the kitchen.  The door closed behind him, and he barely acknowledged the greetings of his friends (and Richard) sitting around the coffee table.  He absently kissed Phoebe on the cheek, gave her the customary birthday wishes, and awkwardly headed for the refrigerator with the birthday cake.

          "Hi Mon," he said once his back was to her and his head was in the refrigerator, moving stuff around to make room.  She tugged at the hem of her sweater and tried not to look at his ass.

          "Hey, Chandler," she managed. 

          "Your face is red," Rachel hissed in her ear.  Monica shoved her away and Rachel joined the party in the living room.  Chandler straightened, shut the refrigerator, and stood next to Monica at the sink.  She sort of pretended to cook something; he sort of pretended to help.

          "Are we going to ever talk about this, or are you going to keep avoiding me?" he asked her.

          "It's only been a week.  I thought that was our policy," she said with a sarcastic edge in her voice.

          "I left you 3 messages."

          "I haven't been home to check them.  Honestly, Chandler, I've just been working.  I'm sorry if you feel like I've been avoiding you."

          "Are you angry with me?"

          She softened.  "Of course not."

          He exhaled and closed his eyes, obviously relieved.

          "I'm just confused," she said, her eyes tearing.  He pulled her into an embrace.

          "It's okay.  So am I," he whispered.

          They held each other for a few moments, until Richard's voice made them spring apart.

          "Monica, are you all right?" he asked, playing the concerned husband, and trying to keep his eyes from shooting suspicious glares towards Chandler.

          "Yes," she said.  If he asked her that question one more time…

          "Hey, let's eat," Rachel said, to the rescue again.

          So they sat around the table and toasted Phoebe's birthday.  They joked, shared stories about their weeks, and ate.  And Monica sat with her husband on one side and Chandler on the other, Richard having no idea that the wrong man was squeezing her hand comfortingly under the table.  

What did you think???  That was kind of long, was it not?  Review me!!!