AN: Thank you all, again for the reviews. I know that there are a lot of people who want Ross and Rachel together, but I had the Joey story laid out in my head already, and that was how it flowed…For all you Mondlers who are wondering when Monica and Chandler are gonna see each other…read on!
This one's for Chris! *Hugs*
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The Age of Aquarius
Chapter Twenty-Nine: I Saw Her Standing There
Well, my heart went boom,
When I crossed that room,
And I held her hand in mine…
Whoa, we danced through the night,
And we held each other tight,
And before too long I fell in love with her.
Now I'll never dance with another (ooh)
Since I saw her standing there…
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Winter, 1972
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"Sir? More coffee?"
Chandler looked up at the waitress blankly, his mind slowly processing the question. After a short minute he nodded, and as the waitress refilled his cup with the steaming, bitter beverage, he continued to stare listlessly out the window, oblivious to the world around him.
Outside the shop, he watched a group of teenagers wander across the parking lot of the diner. One boy, tall and lanky, with dingy brown hair hanging in his face, and an easy laugh escaping his lips, reminded Chandler a bit of himself, once upon a time. He joked with his buddy, a shorter, stockier boy, while one arm hung loosely around the shoulders of a pretty, dark haired girl. The kids walked into the diner, their laughter echoing through the near-empty restaurant, as they took a seat at a booth several feet from Chandler.
It seemed like ages ago, the years before the war. He had no idea what had happened to Phoebe or Monica or Joey…coming back to nothing and no one, it was sometimes harder than being alone in the jungles of Vietnam.
At least there, he knew that he had a purpose, a goal. Here, he had nothing at all.
Joey had never turned up again that day after Chandler had seen first him. Chandler often wondered what had become of him. Had he tried to kill himself again? Was he somewhere else in the city? The look Joey had given him that day haunted him, and still he wondered just what it was he had done wrong.
The dark haired girl giggled, and Chandler looked over at the group wearily.
He missed her.
As much as he tried to deny it, to himself, to Claire, to the world…the truth of the matter was, he missed Her.
He'd never believed in soul mates, in true love or fate, but Monica had gotten under his skin, had become a part of him, and though he hadn't seen her in years, she haunted him.
She had moved on, had started a new life, and was thousands of miles away, and still, there were times, when he would swear he'd see her, walking down the street, a friend in a sea of unfamiliar faces.
Maybe it wasn't her he really longed for; maybe she simply represented the carefree youth he had lost. Maybe he just needed a friend, someone who knew him when, to remind him that he used to be a person. Happy. Normal.
Sighing heavily, he pulled a few crumpled bills from him pocket, and placed them on the table, before scooting out of his small booth, and walking out the door.
But not before he stole one last glance at the kids across the room.
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The winter wind bit through his thin green jacket fiercely, causing him to involuntarily shiver. The bright lights, rough pavement, and animated streets were foreign to him, even though he'd grown up in it. Five years had changed him more than he wanted to admit—more than it should have. He was 23, going on 45, and he felt the weight of the world on his tired shoulders. No 23-year old should ever have to see what he has seen: to know what he knows. No man should have to stand in the face of danger, and know that it is either 'them' or you.
No man should have to live with the blood of a child on his hands.
Snow began to drift down from the black sky. He felt the light-as-a-feather flakes, and recalled a time when he'd prayed for anything besides Asian rain. After years in the hostile jungles of a country thousands of miles from home-from a reality he had built for himself, if only to keep sane---being back in New York City felt wrong, somehow. He looked up at the sky, as a thousand tiny flakes danced through the air, and slid down his ragged face.
Life, as he knew it, was about to change once more.
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*
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"I don't know about this, Rach," Ross fidgeted with his tie nervously, "What if she freaks out about Jonathan?"
"Ross, would you calm down? Becca is a perfectly nice person, and she is new in New York, and needs to meet more people. I think you two will really hit it off—but you have got to relax!"
"I'm sorry Rach, but I've only ever dated…well…you, actually," Ross laughed.
Rachel smiled sympathetically, and approached Ross, straightening his tie with an arched eyebrow.
"Ross, I know that things have been…weird, since last spring, but—"
"Rach, it's okay," Ross took Rachel's hands, and squeezed them reassuringly, "It took me a while, but I have come to realize that neither of us are the same people we were before this…war. If I had stayed, maybe we'd be married by now…or maybe not. I'll always love you, you know that…and I know he makes you happy."
"He does," Rachel smiled, tears welling up in her eyes, "thank you, sweetie."
"Are you sure you are okay with Jonathan?"
"Ross, come on, you know it will be fine. I'm gonna take him to Monica's…you know how Jonathan just fascinates Jake," Rachel laughed.
"Right," Ross shook his head, "just don't let him stick anything up my son's nose this time, okay?"
Rachel laughed, as she gathered Jonathan's bags. She picked up the sleeping toddler, and made her way to the door.
"Good luck tonight, Geller," Rachel smiled.
"None needed, Green," Ross retorted, as Rachel walked out the door.
Ross watched Rachel and Jonathan leave, then slumped onto the sofa. He put on the brave face whenever she was around, but the truth was, her rejections still stung.
Had the situation been different…had Joey not been wheelchair-bound (and technically Joey was in the chair because of him) and had he not had the brush with death, Ross would have put up a fight—he would have fought harder to keep Rachel in his life.
But the thing was, Joey needed Rachel in ways that Ross really didn't.
And Rachel loved Joey in a way that she no longer loved him.
In time, Ross knew he would no longer have to pretend to be okay with everything. In time, he knew that he would be able to move on.
Ironic, seeing how it was time, that had torn he and Rachel apart.
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*
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Light flurries of snow soon began increasing, indicating that a larger storm was looming. Monica scanned the darkened sky warily, as she exited the small shop and made her way toward home. She'd left Rachel alone with the kids for well over an hour, and was certain that the apartment—and Rachel—would be in complete disarray by now. Shaking her head at the notion, she wrapped her arms around herself and picked up her pace, hoping to make it home before the storm really hit.
In the distance, a shadowed figure, hunched and shivering, made its way toward her. Instinctively, she moved to the opposite side of the sidewalk, and kept one wary eye on the shaded man.
His head tilted upward, toward the sky, and in the faint, yellowed light of the streetlamps above, Monica saw a familiar face.
As he moved past her, she took a sharp breath, her mind reeling. Her legs suddenly felt heavy, and she found that she could no longer move, no longer think. So she did the only thing she could think of to stop him from walking away…and out of her life again.
"Chandler!"
He stopped and turned slowly, his eyes narrowing to protect them from the wind and snow. His arms, once wrapped around him protectively, dropped to his sides, and the newspaper he had been carrying fell lifelessly from his fingers.
Snow fluttered around them—two frozen figures trapped in time, lost…and found.
She took a hesitant step toward him, still wondering if he was nothing more than an illusion.
He stood, frozen in place, not willing to take the chance that he was dreaming.
Monica had imagined this moment a million times, in a million different scenarios. She had dreamed of all the things she wanted to say, all of the things that had been left unsaid all of those years ago. Her heart was bursting, and she wanted nothing more than to cry out "I've found you! Thank God I've finally found you!"
But as she stood there, she suddenly realized that her voice had escaped her, and that this moment was more beautiful than any she had imagined.
She swallowed, in an attempt to wet her dry throat. Still, he refused to move, so she took another step toward him, and looked up at his face.
"Chandler?" was all she could manage.
Her voice was like a catalyst, bringing him out of his dream-like trance. He looked down at her, his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide with shock.
"You're really here," she whispered, and reached up to touch his face.
He closed his eyes, and wavered slightly, as a large gust of wind blew through.
"It's really you," she whispered hoarsely, and he opened his eyes to look down at her.
"Monica," he croaked, as though he still could not believe his own eyes.
She ran her hand across his cheek—it was rougher than she remembered…scars from his time away. She stared into his eyes, and saw something that was never there before—grief and sadness that seemed to weigh him down.
"You…aren't in California?" he asked suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts.
"What?"
"Ross said you…well, he said you were in California…"
"I was…I left…we left."
"Oh," Chandler nodded, his face suddenly unreadable. He took a short step backward, and Monica's hand fell away from him.
"I should probably…let you go," Chandler said softly, his expression hardening.
Monica looked at Chandler, her heart racing. He swallowed hard, and she let out a small sigh.
"Come on," she said softly, and tentatively took his hand in hers. She led him toward the warm sanctuary of her apartment, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest, her eyes stinging with unshed tears.
The walked in silence, the two blocks to her apartment building. She led him up to her floor, but as she moved to open her door, he placed a nervous hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him, and smiled nervously.
"Are you sure…this is okay?" he asked hesitantly.
She simply nodded, and pushed open the door.
"Oh, Mon it's about time, I was about ready to lose it!" Rachel exclaimed as Monica and Chandler walked into the apartment, "I—oh, I didn't—" Rachel stuttered, as her gaze fell onto Chandler.
"Rachel, this is Chandler," Monica said slowly, then looked at Chandler, who was frozen in place near the door.
"Oh! I…wow, it's so nice to finally meet you!" Rachel gushed, as she grabbed and hugged a very-shocked Chandler, "Okay Mon, I'm…gonna go over to Joey's…the kids are sleeping…finally, so if you need me…well, you know…" Rachel stammered hurriedly as she walked out of the apartment, shooting Monica a knowing glance before shutting the door behind her.
"Sorry about Rachel," Monica laughed uncomfortably.
"Is that…Ross' girlfriend, Rachel?" Chandler asked softly.
"She was…ugh, it's a long story. Please Chandler, sit down," Monica urged.
Chandler took a small step inside, but continued to stand stiffly next to the kitchen table.
"This is a really nice place," Chandler said quietly, his eyes scanning the apartment for the first time
"It was my grandmother's," Monica smiled, "Wh-where do you live? How long have you been back?"
"A while, I guess…I was staying with some…friends for a while…then I found a room at this place not far from her…it's small and cheap," Chandler laughed uncomfortably, as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.
"Oh," Monica nodded slowly.
"I tried to find you…after…but your parents said—"
"I haven't spoken to my parents in years," Monica interrupted sharply.
"Oh. I'm sorry, I—"
"No, it's okay, I'm sorry…it's just…they don't even want to meet Jake, and I—"
"Jake?" Chandler furrowed his brow, then watched as Monica's face paled considerably.
Monica suddenly felt dizzy, and she swayed slightly, prompting Chandler to take a few steps toward her. She looked up at him, but found that she couldn't meet his eyes.
And then, fate intervened.
"Mommy?" Jake stood in the doorway of his room, his light brown hair ruffled, his eyes weary and red. He blinked several times, then rubbed his sleepy eyes again.
Monica whipped around at the sound of Jake's voice, as Chandler stood wide-eyed behind her.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Monica asked softly, as she crossed the room to comfort her son.
"Jonathan is snowing," Jake whined, and extended his arms toward Monica.
"Oh, come here," Monica laughed, and heaved Jake into her arms, "Oh honey, I can barely pick you up anymore! Is Jonathan's snoring really that bad?" Monica asked. Off of Jake's nod she laughed, "Okay, you can sleep in my room—but just for tonight."
"Who is he?" Jake pointed directly at Chandler.
"Jake, it's not nice to point," Monica scolded lightly, "this is my friend, Chandler."
Jake studied Chandler for a moment, then yawned and plopped his head onto Monica's shoulder.
Chandler smiled uncomfortably, and watched as Monica carried Jake into her bedroom. A few minutes later she re-emerged, looking down at the floor as she crossed the room again.
"So…that's Jake," Monica laughed uncomfortably, as she approached Chandler.
"He's…your son?"
"Yeah," Monica smiled.
"But you're not—"
"Married? No," Monica shook her head.
Chandler nodded, then looked down at Monica. He placed his index finger under her chin, and pulled her face upward.
"Then…can I…can I kiss you?" he whispered softly, hesitantly.
Monica smiled, and nodded slightly, before closing her eyes and moving toward him slowly.
He moved toward her, his eyes never leaving her face. She was as breathtaking now as she was the day he met her. Moments before their lips met, he closed his eyes, and let his lips brush hers lightly, before capturing them fully in a kiss he had longed for for far too long.
She responded immediately, moving her body into his, wrapping her arms around his neck, melting into his body once more. It was as wonderful as she remembered; yet it was better than it had ever been. She found herself trembling slightly, her nerves and emotions overwhelming her. His arms tightened around her possessively, and she suddenly felt like the entire world was spinning out of control.
It ended as abruptly as it had begun. He pulled away slightly, his eyes gauging her reaction closely. She refused to let him go—her arms remained firmly around his neck, as she stared up at him dreamily.
"I finally found you," she whispered softly, her eyes welling with tears, "You're finally home."
Chandler started slightly at her words, as a rush of blood warmed his face. Home. He hadn't felt at home since his return, but here…in her arms…he felt more at home than he had in a long, long time.
He knew there was so much they needed to talk about. He wanted to know about her life…about Jake, and about all she had been through. He wondered why Jake's father wasn't around, and why Monica was estranged from her family. He wanted to ask, to find out everything, but he couldn't seem to find the words.
The moment was too precious, too wonderful, and he wasn't ready to let it go just yet.
So he held her silently, his eyes exploring hers, his mind whirling and his heart racing.
He didn't want to ponder the possibility that once she knew more about the person he'd become, she would walk away.
So instead, he pulled her close, and kissed her once more.
He was home.
She watched him watch her, as the stood in the center of her apartment, locked in a tight embrace. Her mind was reeling—should she tell him about Jake? Should she tell him the truth so soon? What if he walked away?
But she was caught up in the moment, and decided that it could wait. After all, they had just found each other again—they had plenty of time.
He leaned in, and kissed her again, and she let her worries melt away.
There was plenty of time for explanations…for stories and revelations. Tomorrow was a new day…tonight…all she needed was him.
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AN: Oye. That was probably the hardest chapter to write…ever. I know it may not be what everyone wanted, but I am afraid if I play with it anymore, it'll just get worse. Is this damn story finished yet?? Aaaaah!
