Waiting – Chapter 6

A Reason to be Happy

A/N: Whoooooooooooo! I don't know why I just said that. Hmm. Anyway, I'm so stupid. I fell asleep at 5, planning on just taking a nap after school, but I slept straight till 11. So, now it's 12:30 and I'm not really tired. Go figure. :p Stupid staying up till 2 AM watching Leno/being hyper cuz of the end of Friends, bah! But everyone was talking about it, and I made sure not to b/c none of my friends know about the obsession (as it should be, since they wouldn't understand) but at lunch, my friend asked me if I'd watched the finale like "the rest of the world did" and I said, "Yes, of course!" and asked if she had and she laughed at me! She never even watched the show, but she's convinced it's horrible She just can't like anything that's popular. Oh well, now Yen and I are talking about it, so it's all good. -grins- Thanks for all the great reviews for the last chapter! You guys rock. Do it again or I'll ramble even more in my next chapters' A/N's, mwahaha! :p

The large copying machine made noises as the light shone through the top, just barely hitting Chandler's stomach, before dying away as it spit out the warm copied papers. Chandler opened the lid, took out the original document, and arranged ten pages together. Then, he reached over to the desk beside him, groping for the stapler without much concentration. He felt the cool steel against his fingers, but before he could bring the stapler closer, it was snatched from his hands. He looked up in anger, unfazed by the mocking face before him.

"You let go of things too easily, Chandler," the man said in a snooty tone.

"Shut up," Chandler muttered.

"Whoa, whoa! What's with the bad language?"

Chandler ignored him, walking swiftly to his office. He had to get away from the blond haired embodiment of the devil. He wanted to fight, but from past experiences, he had learned that was not a good idea. He was mature; he could take the high road.

"Where you going so quickly, Chandler? Got a knife in your office?"

Chandler arrived at his office door and, as the rest of the people on the floor watched the scene with mild interest. 'You'd think they'd be sick of this by now,' he thought angrily. Chandler refused to answer. Instead, he walked inside his office, slammed the door, with the word 'chicken' echoing in his head.

He walked over to the window and opened the blinds. The sun poured into his plain white office, warming his trembling body with soft rays. He looked out at the bustling city below him, and tried his hardest to think of anything but what that man had done to him – not just that day, but in the past as well.

Monica sat quietly as she took the bulk of Chandler's anger with silent defiance. He was angry about something, but in his state there was absolutely no way Monica would be able to get it out of him. Instead, she spoke in the gentle, soothing voice, and waited with patience for the wave of rage to pass.

"I swear to God," he grumbled, "I want to rip these clocks off your walls. They drive me nuts!"

"We've been through this."

"I know, but you haven't listened to me, have you?!"

"I listened. I just chose to ignore you."

"That's the attitude I'm getting from you? Aren't shrinks supposed to be better than that?"

"Well then send the police after me," she challenged nonchalantly.

Chandler shook his head, realizing that being angry with her was just going to make him angrier in the long run. She always knew exactly what to say to push his buttons.

"I know you're upset about something, Chandler –"

He snorted.

"We don't have to talk about whatever's bothering you. I just want to talk about something."

"Something?"

"Anything."

"Anything?"

She furrowed her brow, "Yes, anything. Just not this bantering back and forth – it's giving me a head ache."

"Let's talk about you."

Monica's swallowed hard, "This isn't about me."

"Well then, we can just sit here in silence."

"All right, ask away," she muttered through gritted teeth, before folding her arms across her chest and glaring at him.

"How was your childhood?"

"It was all right. Not great, but all right."

"Well, what was it that made it only 'all right'?"

Monica laughed, "Maybe you should take my job instead."

"Maybe you should answer the question."

"Well impatience isn't going to get you anywhere," she replied stiffly, "But um, like I told you last time, my mother and I didn't get along well. Plus, my father passed away when I was little."

"Wow," Chandler remarked, slightly shocked by what she told him, "I'm sorry."

The corners of her mouth rose slightly into a small smile, "Thanks," she straightened her back, ready to take control of the conversation again, "So what's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

"Okay…"

"This guy at work is a bastard," Chandler blurted out, unaware of how much he had actually wanted to talk about it until the words flew from his mouth.

"What'd he do?"

Chandler laughed, "What didn't he do?" Monica watched Chandler patiently as he gathered the strength to continue, "He stole away my girlfriend. That was when it -" he motioned to the room around him, "This all began."

Monica shook her head, "What a terrible thing to do!"

"He won't ever let me forget it."

"How long were you dating the - her?"

"A year. The two of them met at a work Christmas party and hit it off much more than I'd thought. She broke up with me for him three weeks later," Chandler paused, "I really thought I loved Kathy."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I believe that if it doesn't happen, it's not meant to be," she pushed back a strand of loose hair as Chandler stared at her blankly, "What I mean is, If she left you, then it wasn't meant to be. She wasn't good enough for you."

Chandler shook his head, "If that's the case, then there are very few women who are good enough for me."

"No really, Chandler, I mean it! You're a really sweet guy, when you want to be. You're the kind of guy every girl wants to be with."

"Right, then why aren't the girls lined up outside my door?"

"Because everyone's too caught up with finding the wrong person to find the right one."

"What?"

"Look, first impressions are complicated. On the outside, you may seem like a bitter, sarcastic guy. But, now that I've gotten to know you, I've seen just how loving and attentive you are toward those you care about. That's the side no one really gets to see – the really beautiful one."

Chandler looked away embarrassed, but obviously taken with her words. Even if she was speaking from a medical book and not from her heart, he desperately wanted to believe her. Something unidentifiable in her eyes made him able to believe her.

"Well, looks like our session's over," Monica concluded, standing up and walking over to the corner of the room," I have something for you."

Chandler cocked his head to the side as he watched her uncover a box, "What?"

Monica lifted the box and brought it over to him. Upon closer examination, he realized that the box was not an ordinary box, but was actually a cage. Monica placed the cage on the floor next to his feet.

"I couldn't stop thinking about your Chopsticks story every since you told me," she began distractedly, as she fiddled with the lock of the cage, "So I decided to get you this," she reached her arms inside the cage and pulled out a small, shivering white cat, stroking its head with her slender fingers as she brought the cat toward her chest.

Chandler stared at the woman in front of him, at a complete loss of words. She held the kitten out to him and instinctively Chandler opened his arms and cradled the cat. His hands caressed the soft fur of the cat as it began to calm its trembling body. He stared down at the creature in utter disbelief.

"Thanks – I mean, you didn't have to…"

"I know, but I wanted to." Chandler smiled, "Just do me one favor?"

"What's that?"

"Name the cat Chopsticks."

Chandler smiled and nodded, but he already had a name picked out for the kitten – Monica.

Monica mixed unidentifiable ingredients into a yellow mixing bowl, as she hummed happily. Finally, she did not feel exhausted after her day at work. No, her exchange with Chandler had put a bounce in her step that she hadn't known for years. To see him happy made her feel as if she had won a personal battle.

Rachel entered the living room from her bedroom, smiling at Monica as she approached.

"Someone's very happy today."

"Yup."

"What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm just happy. Do I need a reason?"

"No, it's just – you're usually burnt out after work."

Monica shrugged.

"Did you," Rachel's eyes widened, "Did you break up with Richard."

Monica's face fell, "No."

Rachel gave Monica a puzzled look, "Whatever it is, it seems like a 'happy over a guy' type thing…are you and Richard working things out?"

"Uh, no. And it's certainly not over a guy!" she added hurriedly, "I'm just in a good mood, that's all."

"All right," Rachel conceded. Years of being Monica's friend told her there was much more to it than what she had been told. Then again, Monica seemed to truly not want to talk about it, and she did not want to push her. Seeing Monica cheerful was a rarity.

Chandler and Joey pulled a piece of pink string across the wooden floorboards as the tiny kitten chased after it, pouncing and delighting in the attention she was receiving. Joey dangled the string and watched in amusement as the cat jumped up on her hind legs and batted at the air. Chandler laughed and rose from his knees.

As soon as he stood up, Phoebe entered the apartment, the sound of the door opening frightening the kitten into hiding, under the couch in the living room.

"Phoebe!" Joey admonished, "You scared Chopsticks!"

Joey rushed to the couch and tried to lure the cat out from underneath with the string. Phoebe turned to Chandler and mouthed, 'chopsticks?' but Chandler just shrugged, amused, in response. Carefully, the cat slinked out, beginning to gnaw at the string as she had been previously.

"Aww!" Phoebe cooed as she rushed over and began to pet the cat. She looked up at Chandler briefly with curious eyes, "Why'd you get her?"

"Well I was passing by, uhh, the shelter, and she just looked so adorable that I had to get her," he lied.

"Awwwww," Phoebe repeated, smiling at Chandler before returning her attention to the cat, "You're just one big softy after all, aren't you?"

Chandler beamed, "I guess so."

Phoebe reached over and stroked his arm, "You've been so much happier lately."



Chandler shrugged.

"I'm glad."

She waited to see if Chandler would contribute anything more to back up her theory, but he just knelt down beside her, straight faced, and played with the cat once more. Perhaps Chandler did not open up to her anymore, but she could still read his face like a map. There was something much deeper than just a cat that was making him so cheerful; she just didn't know what that something was. She would find out sooner or later, though. Phoebe had faith that, when the time was right, Chandler would tell her. She briefly snuck a glance at Chandler. They were, after all, still best friends – weren't they?

A/N: Yeah, I really have nothing to say here cuz I rambled at the top. ;p Well, please review, or, like I said, I'll ramble even more, mwahaha! (no, not that! Anything but that! Think of the children! Won't somebody please think of the children!) I should so not be updating at 1 AM…