Everytime

Chapter Seven: Like She Belonged....

Disclaimer: They're mine. All mine. *hears siren* Wait... I lied! They're not mine. Boohoo.

A/N: I've never been so great at these crazy author's notes. I guess I'll just have to improvise. *clears throat* Ahahahahaeemmmm... how much wood could a wood chuck chuck if a wood chuck could chuck wood?

.... does anyone even care?- Ala Monnie.

Review, if you want me to continue. For some reason, I think of the chapters of this fic in threes, so it will be either 9 chapters, or 12, depending on what I decide to do. But I won't continue at all if no one likes it. I know I sound negative, but reviews are VERY helpful for telling me people like it. There are also plently of other ways to talk to me- check my profile.

My profile's rather boring. All it has is contact stuff and people's names. Why do people like seeing their names in other people's profiles? Is it because we're all attention seeking souls? I know I am. And that's why..... I have bought everyone a candy bar! No, only kidding. These are all for me. Hee.

*~*~*

Chandler and Monica slowly backed down the hill, still pressing their lips together in passionate kisses. Chandler bit at her lip hungrily; he had dreamt of this moment for so long, and now it was here, it was even more amazing than he had dreamed it would be.

Monica seemed to have lost all rational thought.... she knew in the back of her mind she shouldn't be doing this, but her heart was directing her differently, and she kissed back just as hungrily, creating several large rips as she tore at his shirt.

She heard the gravel crunch beneath their feet, and knew they had reached the pathway.

He pushed her backwards, his kisses burning her mouth, his tongue teasing at hers as it moved rhythmically against hers.

He moved his hands from her back, drifting downwards, caressing the soft skin at her midriff, gently running his fingers down her spine. She shivered, so he apologised without words, kissing her deeply once again, teasing her by slowly pulling his lips away, then replacing them immediately, unable to stop kissing her for more than a second.

Monica felt his hands move onto her ass as a leaf on one of the potted plants brushed her midriff, reminding her of Chandler's roaming hands. As he moved his kisses down to her neck, she let out a ragged breath, feeling the cold night air on her cheeks.

Ripping off the last of the buttons, his shirt fell open as she pulled at it, giving her access to his bare skin. He moaned softly in her ear as she caressed him, his lips finding their way back to hers.

Opening his eyes for a brief moment, Chandler noticed they were nearing the house, and as he steered Monica around to the front, he continued to kiss her deeply, his hands exploring her velvet skin. At the slight change in direction, she opened her eyes; no words were spoken as they stared at each other. No words were needed.

Chandler backed into the doorway, taking one hand off Monica for a moment so he could open the door. They went backwards into the hallway, still kissing furiously.

The warmth of the inside stung Monica's cheeks, sating the cold as she slipped her hands beneath Chandler's collar, slowly pushing the ruined shirt he wore off his shoulders, down his arms, and to the floor.

As he pushed her against the wall, Monica's hands grasped at his back, fingers raking against supple skin, setting him on fire. Pulled by a power beyond his control, he slipped his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, eliciting a giggle from her in response. He smiled against her shoulder.

Gentle biting and soft kisses created the need in her to grow. Every part of her screamed for him to quench her heart's desire.

The phone rang. Monica ignored it, willing it to go away, but it kept on with its incessant tones. She dropped her hands from Chandler's back, signalling to him that she'd have to get it. He kissed her once more, before releasing his tight hold on her. Picking his shirt up from the floor, he examined it, noticing the large holes in it, torn away by Monica's passionate fingers. He held it to his chest. Just the fact that her hands had been running all over it was enough for him to savour it.

"Hello?" said Monica wearily. "Oh, hi Rach. What? No, Pete's not here. No, he... had some business. Am I alone?" She looked at Chandler. "Yes." She suddenly frowned. "What? No, no, you don't need to come down here. No, I'm fine.... Rach? Rach?" She put the phone down.

"Rachel's coming," she sighed, stating the obvious.

Chandler smiled sarcastically. "I kinda guessed." He looked down at himself. "So what am I gonna do? I can't stay here. For one, you said you were alone, and two, this," he said, holding up his ruined shirt.

Monica smiled guiltily. "Oh, sorry about that. Well, you could borrow one of Pete's shirts..."

Chandler frowned. "Won't he notice? And besides, no offence, but he's a little... bigger than I am."

"Well, I guess you'll have to hide as long as she's here. Hide in the bathroom off my room, she won't go in there." She smiled. "I'll try and get rid of her."

Chandler looked down. "So we're not finished?"

She smiled slyly, gliding over to him. "Oh, far from it, my friend," she said, running her fingers softly across his still exposed skin.

He smiled, but his heart was beating fast inside. Monica was married. Married. And he wasn't sure whether this was right.

Although his heart wanted it so much.

*~*~*

As Monica waited for Rachel to arrive, she watched Chandler run upstairs, and finally, she took a moment to think through what she was doing.

Ever since the moment when they had run into each other, Monica had seen Chandler in a totally different light. At first it had disturbed her, making conversation difficult while in his presence, but she quickly learned how to hide it, locking the emotions away in her mind, while she acted normally. She never forgot it, and when she was alone, it was the first thing on her mind, but she had managed to be able to be with Chandler without it affecting her ability to talk. She guessed it was because her attraction to Chandler wasn't as strong as her desire to be around him.

It was strange how such a little thing had started something so big. All she had done was drop her shopping. But now, she was dropping a bombshell onto her life.

But would the result be devastation, or blossoming flowers?

She thought about Chandler, hiding upstairs.... what did he feel? He had kissed her. He had initiated it. But why had he run out afterwards? And what had possessed him to do it in the first place?

She didn't know. But she wanted to know.

But when did she want to know?

She kept repeating the questions over and over in her mind. Trying to delay herself from finding the answers.

Everything was so much easier when they had been kissing. There had been no problems, no qualms... they had just been together. She had felt so at ease then... she had felt like she fitted. Like she belonged.

Like she belonged.....

Her thoughts fell away as the doorbell rang, almost though the bell was a releasing button to her mind. She opened it, smiling warmly as Rachel entered.

"Hey Mon," said Rachel quietly. "How are you?"

Monica frowned. "Rachel, you don't need to be sympathetic, I couldn't care less that Pete didn't turn up!"

Rachel looked at her suspiciously. "But earlier you were all upset that you and Pete don't have a special enough relationship..."

Monica shifted her weight onto her other foot. "Well, I had a revelation. Pete didn't turn up, so I decided it's not worth it anymore. He can do his own thing."

Rachel looked surprised. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes," said Monica, but her face became confused, and she lowered herself into a chair. "I think so..." she said.

Rachel knelt down next to her. "Monica, you don't have to lie to me," she said gently.

Monica put her head in her hands. "It's just... I don't know. Pete is my husband. I married him. And we're supposed to be bonded for life...."

"Well, if you don't feel that way anymore, then you can't live a lie," said Rachel.

Monica looked at her. "I don't know how I feel anymore," she said honestly. "I've got all these conflicting emotions going round in my head... and I'm not sure which are the right ones to follow."

Rachel smiled knowingly. "I think you need to think things over," she said, standing up. "I guess I'll leave you to do that," she said. "I'll let myself out. Bye."

Monica gave a weak wave as Rachel left, and put her head in her hands.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to feel.

*~*~*

Chandler closed the bathroom door quietly and put his ruined shirt on the edge of the bath. He shivered, feeling a breeze run over him. He looked around, and saw that the window was ajar. He reached over and shut it.

He fumbled in his pants pocket for his cell phone, flipping it open and quickly dialling a number.

"Phoebe?" he said.

"Hi!" she exclaimed. "Where are you? You were supposed to meet me for dinner an hour ago!"

Chandler looked around. "At Monica's."

"Isn't she with Pete?" asked Phoebe, sounding interested.

"He didn't show. Look, Phoebe, there's something...."

Phoebe interrupted him. "He didn't? Aww, is Monica alright?"

Chandler waved his hand in frustration. "I think so... look, Phoebe-"

"But she wanted this night to be special... she told me, her night's ambition was to.... what was it... oh, to "rip his shirt to pieces passionately.""

Chandler laughed, looking at his shirt. "Well, she certainly did that..."

"What do you mean?" said a confused Phoebe.

"We.... we kissed, and it kinda went a little bit... passionate," said Chandler slowly, waiting nervously for Phoebe's reaction.

Phoebe gasped. "What? You kissed her? What happened?"

Chandler breathed in. "Well, she was all crying because of Pete, and it just.... happened. Then I ran out, because... well, because I knew it was wrong. She's married. I shouldn't have acted on my feelings. They don't matter."

Phoebe sighed. "Chandler, they do matter. You acted on your feelings because you had to. Because you found them impossible to control. It was going to happen sooner or later. Don't feel guilty." She coughed lightly before continuing. "So, what happened next?"

Chandler thought back, his memory clear. "I ran outside. I don't know why, but I went up the path behind the house, and up the hill.... I could have gone anywhere...." He sat down on the edge of the bath. "Then I saw her. She was running after me. And I just knew.... I knew that she wasn't mad. And I knew... I knew what she wanted."

"So then what?" breathed Phoebe.

Chandler swallowed. "Then I- I ran down the hill, and I kissed her."

"Then what?"

"We kissed. For like five minutes, we were backing down the path, towards the house.... and once we got into the house... well, do you really wanna know?"

"Yes!" squealed Phoebe.

Chandler laughed. "Well, let's just say I'm holding my ripped shirt in her bathroom."

"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Phoebe squealed. "Well, where is she now?"

"Downstairs, Rachel came over. I couldn't exactly greet her like this, could I?"

"So what are you gonna do now?" asked Phoebe.

Chandler sighed. "I don't know.... Phoebe, she's married. Married. I don't think this is right."

"But Chandler, she's obviously not happy with him, is she? What if... what if she's not supposed to be with him? What if she's supposed to be with you? You love her, Chandler. I know that, you know that.... but do you want Monica to know that?"

*~*~*

Monica looked up, tears surrounding her eyes, as Chandler entered the room, holding his ripped shirt close to his chest. She thought he looked a little like a little child clutching a teddy bear. She smiled.

"Hey, Chandler," she said, looking down.

He saw her tears and his face immediately turned to concern. "Mon, what's the matter?" he said, kneeling down beside her.

She looked at him, smiling gently, brushing the side of his face. "I don't know..." she said slowly."I don't know what to do anymore."

Chandler took her hand. "You wanna talk about it?" he asked, rubbing her hand with his in a circular motion.

"I don't know that either," she said honestly.

Chandler paused before asking his next question. "Is it.... about us? About what happened?"

She looked at him for a moment, and then nodded.

He looked down. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to-"

She put a finger to his lips. "Don't be sorry," she said. "I was there too."

He looked down as her finger receded. "But still-"

She repeated her motion, silencing him. "I wanted it as much as you. Maybe more."

Chandler shook his head. "I doubt that," he said, smiling. He took a deep breath. "Monica-"

She interrupted again, making his beating heart jump wildly as his courage died again, almost as quickly as it had come.

"Chandler, I.... I do have feelings for you, but I- I'm married. And I just don't think it's right."

He nodded, and smiled. "I know," he whispered. "But can I just..." he said, trailing off intentionally, before capturing Monica's lips in a deep, passionate kiss. She kissed him back, thinking it would be the last they ever had.

As they kissed, Chandler took Monica's right hand, which was still holding her left, and held them tightly, still pressing his lips to hers. Slowly, he released both her hands and her mouth at the same time, and stood up, turning away.

When he turned to give a wave of goodbye, she saw that a tear was rolling down his cheek.

And he saw the same in her.