What's Love Got to Do With it? – chapter 2
A/N: Hey, Bec here. That's right, it's Becca! (*random whispers* but I thought she disappeared!!! Omg she's still alive?! Who's Becca? I dunno…I hear she sexes up monkeys…oh right!!) Is there something wrong with your computer if, when u want an underline, u have to turn OFF the underline button and vise versa? *kills it* Grr… Anyways, I'm still technically not writing any new stuff, but this is an A/N so, it's cool. Anyways, Yen and I would just like to say 1) This probably isn't anything like Pretty Woman…I mean aside from the hooker…ness 2) No, Julie, we are not calling it "A Tale of 3 Hookers" 3) This chapter is the big reason why one could argue it should be rated R – but since we've gotten no complaints so far, we'll keep going at PG-13 until someone asks us not to. Ok, that's all…I think… On behalf of Yen and myself, thanks for all the lovely reviews. Please read and review this chapter, thanks!
Disclaimer: Yen and I don't have a funny disclaimer, so she told me say that "I don't have a funny disclaimer". Bland, huh? Well, we don't own these characters, although Yen might claim she does…
Chandler Bing glanced at his watch. 8:30 on a Friday night. Almost everyone else had left the office - probably on dates, Chandler thought sourly. He didn't have a date. He hardly ever had dates. All of his friends - well, all four - had dates that night, and here he was, stuck in the office at a dead-end job, single and alone. It was pathetic.
He could always leave the office. Chandler could leave whenever he wanted. It's not like anyone really noticed him, anyway. But he had nothing to go home to. Sure, he had a nice apartment, and a cool roommate (who was probably out with a girl, or perhaps even five, as he always was), and cable, but he had no one to hang out with, and no girlfriend to meet.
He listened to Jimmy, the custodian, vacuuming outside of his office. Maybe it was time to go. He packed up his briefcase and shut the door behind him. He smiled at Jimmy on his way out and pushed the elevator button.
"Hey, um - Chandler?" a female voice called out. Chandler spun around. Alison, an intern, was running up to him. She wasn't that much younger than him, maybe 22 or 23, but she was hot.
"Hey, Alison," Chandler said. "Um, can I help you with something?"
"Well, I was just wondering, if you're not doing anything tonight, maybe we could go out for drinks?"
Chandler almost dropped his briefcase. "Well, uh, ah... sure!" he stammered. Was the young sexy intern really asking him out? "That sounds great!"
"Okay, well, I still have some stuff to do here tonight, but how about around nine-ish? There's this great little bar up by Bleecker and West tenth street, you want to meet there?" Alison said.
"Sure," Chandler said. "I will see you there." He smiled and turned away to step into the elevator. Unfortunately, the doors almost closed on him. He stumbled, but straightened up and went down, dancing as the elevator moved.
Chandler stared at the empty beer bottle in front of him. He picked it up and tilted it over his mouth, straining for a few drops. There were none, which shouldn't have been surprising, considering he'd already done the exact same thing twice.
"We're closin' up, buddy," the bartender said. "It's 1." Chandler looked up at him, and his face swam.
"Jus' one more," Chandler said.
The bartender picked up the six empty bottles sitting in front of Chandler and held them up. "I'm cutting you off. Sorry."
Chandler nodded and stood up. He grasped the counter as his legs turned to jelly.
"Door's that way," the bartender said, gesturing to Chandler's left.
"Thank you," Chandler said, and started out. He stumbled to the curb and waited for a few minutes before a taxi arrived.
"Rough night?" the cabbie said. Chandler wished he wouldn't speak so loudly - it made his head hurt.
"Uh-huh."
That's an understatement, he thought. Alison had never shown up. He'd been stood up, which, in all honestly, Chandler had to admit, wasn't that surprising.
Chandler made his way home and fell into his barcalounger, his head throbbing, his stomach churning, wanting to do nothing but fall into bed and sleep away the ultimate hangover that was undoubtedly coming - and that's when he heard the knock.
Monica shuffled nervously outside of the door. In an attempt to fight her anxiety, she hastily knocked on the door and then took a few strides backward. The hallway was dark and cold, and Monica felt herself involuntarily shiver. She pulled her long, black coat closer to her body by hugging herself tightly as she rubbed the length of her arms. She found herself absently yet apprehensively pacing in front of the door.
Come on, you have to do this! She reminded herself, you have to! Upon receiving no answer, Monica knocked on the door once again, this time a bit louder and longer than before. Still, no one answered. She allowed her hands to run over the dark green painted door as she waited. The door felt smooth at her touch, fascinating her intently. Her fingertips burned as they caressed the door softly and she concentrated on the fire beneath her.
Still, she couldn't escape the questions that suddenly entered her head. What was she doing there anyway? She now understood why the girls insisting on getting high in order to get through the job. There was too much to think about and too much to keep you from getting the job done. Feeling much too uneasy to wait any longer and apprehensive of the risk of being seen, she turned to leave. However, she had only gotten a few feet away when the door opened, causing her to gasp in shock.
"Can I help you?"
The soft yellow light from the apartment cascaded over Monica, causing her to squint for a few moments. Once her eyes adjusted, she turned around and studied the man intently. He was young and clean cut, with light brown hair and sparking blue eyes. He seemed to have a friendly demeanor--not at all like Monica had expected him to be. He was actually quite cute. Huh. No fur coats or oversized rings.
"Uh, yeah…I…" Monica trailed off nervously, unable to form the words needed. Then, Rachel and Phoebe's advice began to ring through Monica's ears. She had to be forward and defiant with him. That was what Joey wanted from his women. And if that was what Joey wanted, then that was what Joey was going to get. "I'm here for the job…"
Chandler scrunched his brow in confusion as he attempted to recall the past few days. Had he hired her for something? Job? What job? "Excuse me?"
Monica smiled and then pushed past him and entered the apartment. He was obviously playing hard to get - testing her - so Monica took that as her indication to be aggressive with him. She would play right along with his little game and she would pass with honors. "Nice place ya got here…"
"Umm…thanks…"
Monica studied the room for a moment. It was a comfortably sized apartment, especially for something in Manhattan. She noticed two leather recliners that sat in front of a large entertainment center. She allowed her eyes to linger on them, implanting the black leather in her mind, instead of focusing on his face.
"I guess I should've expected a nice place, considering what you do for a living."
"Huh?"
"You know."
"Right…" A data processor? So what?
Chandler was beginning to get nervous. What did this woman want with him? She didn't look familiar at all to him. In fact, Chandler was positive he had never met her before. After all, he would not have forgotten a woman that he found so breathtakingly beautiful. And, just like he usually felt with beautiful women, he was at a loss of intelligent things to say, although the liquor was not helping either.
Monica walked up to Chandler, and stopped so close to him that their faces were only centimeters apart. In a low, seductive voice, she whispered, "So, what do I need to do for you?"
Chandler raised his eyebrows. "Do?" Is she really offering what I'm hoping she's offering?
"Yeah, ya know…" she lightly ran her hands over the gray t-shirt that covered his chest and then leaned in towards his right ear, "Do."
Shivers ran up and down Chandler's spine. This had to be some joke. He had no idea why this sexy, mysterious woman was coming onto him, but had very little willpower to wonder why. Her hands were drifting down lower, and Chandler could hardly contain whatever rational thoughts the alcohol hadn't already greedily stolen from him. She removed her black coat, revealing that she was wearing a short, slinky, white dress that clung to every curve of her shapely body perfectly.
Chandler cleared his throat nervously. "Wh—Why are you doing this to me?"
Monica studied him again. He didn't seem very confident for a man of his 'status'. He's probably just testing me. Well, I'm gonna pass this test with flying colors! She gazed up at him with an innocent, flirtatious look and continued in a tone that matched her gaze.
"Because this is what it takes to get on your good side, is it not?"
"My good—"
He stopped talking when Monica reached down into his pants. Instead, he began to moan instinctively. Nothing of rational value mattered to him anymore. It wasn't important that the room was spinning or that his vision was blurred. All that mattered was what this mystery woman was doing to him and the waves of pleasure pulsating throughout his body. Losing sight of the fact that he had no idea who she was or why she was doing this to a stranger, he allowed himself to get lost in the moment. Chandler reached for her hands and pulled them up. He moved in closer and kissed her deeply on the mouth.
For a moment, Monica wondered why someone like Joey would want the sex to be so intimate, but that thought left her mind once his hands drifted down the top of her dress, and began gently massaging her breasts. Her heart was pounding wildly as his hands roamed her chest.
In her eyes, she had been a relatively moral person in the past. She had been a girl scout, and the girl that greeted all the neighbors as she passed them on their porches on the warm summer nights. But now…what she was doing was not only immoral but also illegal. That thought not only caused her to tremble in fear, but also to quiver with excitement. She was living life on the wild side for the first time ever! Monica decided that she wouldn't allow her logical thoughts to cloud her brain for once. She was going to be spontaneous, reckless, out of control.
Suddenly, she stepped backwards a few steps and Chandler looked up, alarmed. She smiled teasingly at him and began to slowly strip. As he watched her remove her clothing, his rational thoughts returned to him once more. Chandler, what are you doing?! You don't even know this woman! For all you know she could be diseased or insane or a murderer or…really sexy… Chandler stared at Monica's naked body hungrily. Once she had stripped, the alarms of protest in his head had shut off. In place of them, desire took total control of his senses and thoughts, sending him into a daze.
Soon, Chandler removed his own clothes and, almost immediately after, Monica found herself caught in another deep embrace. He then grabbed her hand and led her into his bedroom. The second they were inside Chandler's bedroom, Monica pushed him down on the bed, jumped on top of him, and straddled him.
"Fuck me, Joey," she panted.
Joey? Chandler questioned in his head. Still, he was too far over to panic or tell her she had the wrong guy. Instead, he began to kiss her once more, her tongue against his allowing him to forget the case of mistaken identity. She kissed down his chest and stopped at his hips. Chandler felt her moist breath and was sent into temporary heaven. As Monica continued, fear once again was instilled in her brain. She had to be good. No, no, she had to be great. Joey was a busy man. He could find plenty of women willing to fuck him twice as well as she could.
Her mouth left him causing his eyes to snap open in protest. She took in a shaky breath and kissed him passionately again, all the while praying that he would forgive her for stopping in the middle. She broke the kiss and he began licking her breasts as she stroked him once more. Monica couldn't help the soft moans that escaped her lips.
Suddenly, Monica's voice cut through the moaning in a whisper. "Do you have a condom?"
His hand roamed his night table momentarily and he grabbed the small package and gave it to her. She rolled it onto him and looked down. Her mouth went dry. This was it. She prayed that she would do well enough as she lowered herself onto him.
Once they recovered from sexual ecstasy, Monica climbed off Chandler and laid down next to him. He turned to face her, and she began playing with the light brown hairs on his chest. She couldn't look him in the face. It was too degrading. She hadn't wanted to stoop so low. To sleep with men for a living was the most embarrassing thing she had ever done. Still, she knew she had to do it. There was no alternative. Besides, it would only be temporary. Soon, she would be able to find a real job. A job that she wasn't ashamed of or that required her to be naked.
Who am I kidding? I haven't even finished college! This is going to be my life!
A wave of sorrow washed over her at that revelation, but she quickly brushed it away. She had to be strong now. She was with the man that could easily either make or break her life. She took a deep breath and looked at him. He was lightly caressing her arm, seemingly deep in thought. Looking at him, she was reminded of an earlier question of hers. Why was a pimp being so gentle with her? She couldn't understand. The sex had actually been enjoyable for her. As much as she had tried to be indifferent, he had succeeded to stimulate her in all the right places.
From what she had heard about Joey, she thought he was completely selfish and stone cold. Yet, when she looked up at him, she felt a warm, fuzzy feeling stir within her. She mentally slapped herself at that.
He's a pimp! He probably had sex with like ten other girls today. You're not someone special, you're not! At that realization, she sighed aloud, causing Chandler to turn towards her.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Oh…well…o..k."
Chandler was feeling particularly nervous now. This woman thought he was Joey! How could he have allowed himself to go so far with her? He should've told her and stopped it before it got that far out of hand. It wasn't as if he could pretend to be Joey forever. Sooner or later, she would found out he was really Chandler, the worthless roommate. Joey was the one with all the money, the great, mysterious job, and sexy women. Those women who were as beautiful and sensual as the one lying next to him. And who did he get? The ones with annoying laughs and whiny voices or, even worse, no women at all!
He looked over at Monica, who seemed to be concentrating very hard on something as she absently played with his chest hairs.
Should I tell her? one voice in Chandler's head wondered. The other, more rational voice replied, Yes, you should tell her! How could you do this to an innocent, unsuspecting woman?! You used her!
Guilt engulfed Chandler as his eyes wandered up and down Monica's naked form. Sure, she was stunning, but that was all he knew about this woman. He didn't know how she knew of Joey (not that she knew him well, obviously), how old she was, where she lived, or even her first name. However, Monica climbed back on top of his lap, cutting his thoughts short. She leaned forward, allowing her forehead to lean against his.
"So?" she asked in a sultry tone, "Do I have the job?"
"J—Job?"
"Yeah, you know," she stuck her hand under the sheets and grabbed him, "Job."
"Uhhh…"
"I—I don't…have it?" she panicked.
"No, I—"
"Joey, come on! I—I need this! I—have to support my br—"
"What's your name?"
She gave him a baffled look. "Monica. Phoebe told you about me, didn't she?"
"Phoebe?" Chandler wondered, "Anyway, Monica…the thing is…I…"
"What?"
"I'm not Joey."
She stared at him blankly for a few moments. "Wha—wha—what?!"
"I'm his roommate, Chandler."
Monica's eyes widened in shock. The man she had slept with wasn't Joey?! She had been used and betrayed! Suddenly, anger replaced her alarm, and she slapped Chandler hard across the face.
"You bastard!"
She ran out into the living room and began hastily collecting and throwing on her clothing.
"I'm sorry…"
"Sure ya are. You got free sex!"
"No, it's not like that!"
Monica gave a sardonic laugh. "Not like that?!"
"Look, I'm sorry! I—what do you want from me? Money?"
She finished adjusting her clothing and shot him a disgusted look. "I don't need anything from someone like you."
With that, she stormed out the door and slammed it in his face. Chandler, on the other hand, stood there for a moment, holding his swollen cheek. Then, he hit the side of his head with his hand. "You idiot!"
A/N: Seriously, llew, were u STEALING OUR BRAINWAVES OR SOMETHING?! Lol, I can't believe you guessed how this chapter would turn out! Ok, so it's not rocket science, but still… you deserve a gold star;) All right, my non-fury, non-flea infested friends, please leave us a review and help this story move along. Thanks!