Hi! :-) Thanks for your nice reviews. I appreciate them very much!! I decided to give this story a title.

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"Hey, Mon," Rachel said, when she saw her friend enter the apartment. "Where did you run off to so early?"

"I went to Heckles' apartment," she replied, after pouring herself a cup of coffee and joining Rachel at the table.

"Why?"

Monica shrugged. "I don't know. I felt drawn there. Like maybe I still needed to find something or see something at his place."

"And did you?" Rachel asked, after taking a sip of the hot java.

"Well," Monica said, running her fingers through her short, dark locks. "I found Chandler."

"Chandler?" Rachel said, with a slight laugh. "What was he doing there? Looking for new material for his humor?"

"No, not really. He's very down about his life, Rach. I'm worried about him."

"I'm sorry," Rachel said, placing a hand on her friend's forearm. "But he'll be all right. He'll snap out of this. He'll tell us a few jokes and be feeling better in no time. I mean, he's Chandler."

What exactly that meant, Monica had no idea, but she didn't want to continue this discussion with Rachel.

"Yeah," she agreed, forcing a smile. "He's Chandler. He'll get over it. Well, since we're all meeting at Central Perk soon, I'm gonna finish getting ready."

Monica had no sooner left the room than Joey entered the apartment. After picking up a piece of dry toast and wolfing it down, he demanded to know what Monica had done to Chandler.

"What?" Rachel asked, clearly not understanding her friend's agitation. "Why would you think Monica had done something to Chandler?"

"Because he's all messed up, and he said he'd just had a conversation with Monica." Frantic, he looked around. "Where is she?"

"I'm right here, Joey," Monica said, standing just outside the doorway of her room. "Chandler was already upset when I found him. I didn't do anything to him."

"He thinks he's going to die alone, like Heckles did," Joey said, reaching Monica. "Why would he think that, Mon, and why didn't you help him?"

"Sweetie, I tried," Monica patiently explained, "but he doesn't want my help. Maybe you or Ross could help him. Maybe he just needs to do a few, you know, 'guy' things to cheer him up."

"Yeah," Rachel agreed. "Go do some 'guy' things, Joey. I'm sure that's all he needs."

"Well, if you really think it'll help..." Joey said, sounding doubtful.

"We do," Rachel and Monica said in unison.

"Okay," Joey said, deciding to give them the benefit of the doubt as he swiped another piece of toast. "I'll go talk to him again."

But as Joey left the apartment, he was not convinced their suggestion, no matter how well intended, was the answer. So it came as no surprise to him when Chandler politely but firmly declined his friend's invite.

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"Who called?" Monica asked Rachel a short time later.

She'd heard the phone ring but had let Rachel answer it.

"Phoebe. She's meeting Ross, and they're heading for the coffeehouse. Wanna go now?"

"If you guys don't mind, I think I'm going to stay here."

"Do you feel all right?" Rachel asked, concerned.

"Oh, yeah," Monica said, not wanting to worry her friend. "I just thought of a few things around here that I need to be doing."

"Are you sure? We'll miss you."

"I'm sure. Tell the gang 'hi' for me."

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Across the hall, Chandler was having a smiliar conversation with Joey.

"Oh, man," Joey said, "now you don't wanna hang out with us? What is with you?"

Chandler heard the frustration in his roommate's voice and wished he could just shrug off his bad mood, but he couldn't. Going to Central Perk was the last thing he wanted to do.

"I just don't feel like socializing today. That is allowed, right?"

"Yeah," Joey acknowledged with a frown. "I guess so."

"Give my best to the others."

Once Joey had gone, Chandler sat in front of his laptop and tried to concentrate on reading a report for work. He soon gave up and instead began to type out his thoughts. They came fast and furious; his fingers could barely keep up. He felt if he didn't capture everything he was feeling and thinking, he would explode. After typing for over an hour without taking a break, he clicked on the "save" button and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Now that was therapeutic," he told his trusty laptop.

After standing up to stretch his stiff muscles, he reached for his jacket and headed out the door. He didn't want to go to the coffeehouse, but he thought fresh air might help his frame of mind. As he traveled down a busy street in the Village, he thought he saw Janice, a woman he had dated off and on without much success, coming towards him. He quickened his pace, almost without realizing it, but as he drew closer to the woman, he saw that she was not Janice. He stopped at the corner, crossed the street, and headed back towards his apartment.

Janice.

She'd seem to understand him and to truly care about him. Maybe he hadn't given her a fair chance. Maybe there could be something between them again that would be lasting. Maybe she was just what he needed.

Maybe, just maybe, he would give her a call.