A/N: Hey, Yen here! Becca said I got to write this A/N and I said "Why?" And she said "Because I wrote the last two." And I said "Okay." It was the conversation of the century. Also, I had some fried chicken. How that pertains to this is beyond my realm of knowledge, but there you have it. Haha 'pertains' reminds me of something I said earlier. My dad said "Yennifer is being impertinent." (Okay, he didn't say Yennifer, he said Jennifer. But we like Yennifer better and it's our opinion that counts!) Anyways, I said, "Impertinent sounds like impotent." And then I laughed. *Shakes head* I am rambling SO much.

Thank you all for the reviews! They were very kind. Please read and review this chapter as well! I'm trying to be proper to make up for that up there ^ (not working so well.) Arg stop it Yen stop it! The voices are taking over.

Disclaimer: We don't own the characters. But we do own the monkeys and the llamas of the world. Cheers!

"Harder," the man demanded through gritted teeth.

Monica pushed her body closer against the sweaty one below hers and she moved up and down at a steady pace. His course hair itched her skin as he grabbed a fist full of her hair and pushed her down to meet his lips in a greedy kiss. Monica allowed his tongue to roam her mouth as she concentrated. She heard the man grunt as he bucked his thighs forward and thrust into her one last time, and a throaty moan escaped from his mouth. Then, the man fell backwards, seemingly spent from doing an awfully small amount of work. Monica got off of him as he recovered and began to dress. She found a cigarette in her coat pocket, grabbed the lighter from the man's nightstand, and lit it carefully. She took a few puffs from it, and then turned to the man who was twisted within the covers.

"How much do I owe ya, babe?"

"$400, you know that."

He flashed her a grin, his yellow teeth only slightly visible thanks to the light of the city street a few flights below the window. She looked away as the man rolled out of bed, still naked, and searched through his pants for his wallet. After fumbling for a few moments, he handed her the bills. Monica looked into his eyes for a moment, and then down at her hand. She counted the money carefully, and, after being sure it was the right amount, she collected threw on her coat and headed for the door.

"Hey babe?"

Monica paused and turned around slowly. "Yes?"

"Got a cig?"

Monica looked at the box of cigarettes in her hand and then thrust them into her jacket pocket. She shot him a cold, disjointed look. Monica didn't give out anything more than she had to.

"No."

With that, she left the rundown apartment, and headed out into the cold evening air.

Chandler sat in a dimly lit Italian restaurant with a frizzy, dark-haired woman across from him. She was telling him a story, but he couldn't concentrate on her whiny voice. Instead, he found his thoughts drifting back to Monica. Although he knew he was crazy for pining over a woman he had only seen once, three weeks ago, he couldn't help but imagine her face. Normally, the fact that this woman was a prostitute would've made Chandler stay away from her. However, there was something different about Monica. She didn't seem like the rest of the women Joey brought home. She had substance, he could tell just from one look into her passionate face. There was much more to her than just sex. He wished that he was able to discover those other parts of her.

"Chandler?"

"Hmm?"

"Were you listening to a single word I said?!"

"Yes, of course. You were talking about New Years pictures."

"No, I was talking about New Years pictures a half an hour ago! Where have you been, anyway?"

"I just have a lot on my mind."

She laughed and Chandler grimaced. There was something about this woman's laugh that made his skin crawl.

"What were you thinking about, my Bing-a-ling?"

"Nothing."

"Oh come on, you can tell me."

"No, Janice, it's nothing."

Chandler was beginning to get frustrated. Why was she insisting on knowing? He was sure she didn't want to hear the truth. Oh hey Janice, he thought in his head, I'm thinking about this woman, who's a hooker, by the way, that I met once and slept with three weeks ago, yet can't stop thinking about! Yeah, that would go over well.

"Come on, tell me. Let me in."

"Okay, okay, you want to know what I'm thinking?!" he paused, "I was thinking about those pictures you took on New Years Eve." Chandler feigned enthusiasm, "Did you really get a picture of the ball dropping?"

Janice laughed once again and continued talking. Chandler just stared at her blankly and mentally slapped himself for not breaking up with her when he had the chance. Oh well, he would just stop calling her. That was always the easiest way to go. After all, no woman was better than Janice.

After walking for a few blocks, Monica turned into a dark alley. She knocked on the door with three, swift knocks and then waited for it to be opened for her. A big man in a suit looked her over and then smiled.

"Welcome back."

Monica bit the inside of her mouth. "Yuh-huh."

She pushed past him, attempting not to wince as the man slapped her ass. She should be used to it by now. She was constantly treated as a sex object, and, unfortunately, she understood exactly why. It shouldn't still bother me, she thought woefully as she pushed past the crowds of people and met up with Rachel and Phoebe. They were completely confident with themselves and the way they were treated. Men didn't take advantage of them as often because they showed the experience and confidence that Monica longed to possess.

"Give it time," Rachel replied, after Monica explained her troubles, "We all start out exactly where you do."

"Yeah," Phoebe agreed, "It's hard at first, sure. But you'll learn all the tricks of the trade. Soon enough, you'll be the one taking advantage of the guys."

"Really?"

"Sure!"

"Yeah, for instance," Rachel took out a gold lighter from her pocket book, "Swiped this baby off some dead beat drunk that I fucked today."

Rachel showed off the lighter as Phoebe congratulated Rachel for her great choice of possessions to steal. Monica, however, tried to picture herself stealing something. She thought back to that afternoon when she had picked up her client's lighter. He wasn't watching her. She could've swiped it just like Rachel had. Still, Monica felt too dishonest for doing that. After all, it could have sentimental value to him or something. Just because he was a deadbeat didn't mean he didn't have sentiment, too. After all, most people would look at Monica and think she didn't cherish anything in her life.

"Hey, Mon, don't worry about it," Rachel continued, "Soon enough, you'll be a pro. Guys'll be begging to have you."

"Yeah?" Monica wondered, not too enthused by that idea.

"Yeah," Phoebe agreed absently as she took a drag of her pot.

Monica looked around at the people surrounding her. There were people passed out everywhere, and others having sex right in the middle of the room. It was disgusting, degrading, and immoral. Yet, it was her life.

Chandler laid awake, staring at the bleak, white ceiling above him. It was 3 am, yet he couldn't sleep. Ever since he began thinking about Monica at dinner, he couldn't get her out of his head. Sure, he had thought about her a lot during the weeks, but, at that moment, it was painful. He just had to see her again, somehow or another. Sure, maybe he was being pathetic and much too hopeful, but he could see himself with Monica. His thoughts were cut off when he heard Joey stagger across the living room. Chandler sat up and listened to the bustle outside of his room. He heard the bathroom door close and then he snuck out of his room and sat down in the dark on one of the green stools at their counter. He waited for Joey to emerge, and then, as Joey headed back to his bedroom, Chandler cleared his throat. Joey jumped and turned around fearfully. Upon realizing it was Chandler, he let out a heavy sigh and put his hand over his chest.

"Jesus, you scared the shit outta me, Chandler!"

"Sorry."

"What are you doing out here in the dark…at 3 am?"

"Waiting for you."

"For me?"

"Yeah."

"Well, what can I do for you?"

"You remember that woman I…uhh…met?"

"Which woman?"

"Monica."

"Ohh, her. Yeah?"

"Did you hire her?"

"Yeah. Just cause I felt guilty since you fucked with her."

Chandler stood up and ran his hands over the back of one of the barcaloungers stiffly.

"Have you…ya know…with her?"

"If you mean sex then no, I haven't."

"Oh, okay."

"But others have."

Chandler bit his lip and looked away. "I figured."

"Why?"

"No reason."

"Right…"

"I was just wondering. I feel so horrible for what I did."

"You should."

"You don't really have a right to talk, do you?" Chandler shot back.

"Nah, you're right."

"She's okay, right? I mean I didn't…screw her up…"

"She's pretty good for a beginner. Made a nice amount of money."

"Oh. Oh okay."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Joey yawned and headed for his room, "Well…if you're sure..."

"What do you know about Monica?" Chandler called hastily.

"What do you mean 'what do I know about Monica'?"

"I mean do you know how old she is, where she lives, anything?"

"Uhh…no."

"Oh."

"Oh!" Joey's eyes brightened, "She works at some 50's diner during the day, in Chelsea."

"Moondance Diner?"

"Yes!"

Chandler smiled inwardly.

"Why'd you wanna know?"

"Just…curious…"

"Okay… I'm gonna go to sleep. You should get some sleep, too. You're beginning to worry me."

"Yeah, okay, sure. Thanks."

"No prob, buddy."

Joey patted Chandler on the shoulder and then moved towards his bedroom. After Chandler watched Joey retreat into his bedroom and shut the door, Chandler began to smile. Then, he began to dance slightly back to his room. Maybe he could see Monica after all. Sure, he didn't know what he'd say, but he'd work on that. The only thing that mattered to him now was that he had a lead!

A/N: Well, we hope you liked this chapter! I'll see yall when I get back from Cancun, babie! E-mail us (after you review, of course.) Our e-mail address is yenbec_perry@yahoo.com! *Hugs all readers and Becca who is the bestest monkey buddy in the world!* Love ya!

*Yen*