Head Over Heels

Seven: A Kiss to Build a Dream On?

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Her first reaction was shock.

He'd leaned in and kissed her so quickly, she'd barely been able to react.

As the shock wore off, she became acutely aware of every single nerve ending in her body.  Her lips were tingling, her head spinning.  His hands, placed securely on her hips, warmed her entire body.

As her mind processed this, her hands found their way to his face, her nervous fingers brushing over the rough stubble that was beginning to emerge on his cheeks.

She melted into the kiss, mind and body, her heart already confirming that this was, without a doubt, the best kiss she'd ever had.

Moments later, he pulled away, and again she was surprised at how cold she suddenly felt.

One kiss, and she was already addicted.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and focused on the face before her.

His eyes were wide, and lined with tears.  His mouth was slightly agape, as though he were trying to form words.

As logic made it's way into her head once more, a heartbreaking realization dawned on her.

He was panicking.

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He dropped his hands from their place on her hips, and took a long step back, before focusing his eyes on the floor below.

"M-Monica, I'm so sorry.  I don't know why…I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Monica smiled softly, and took a small step toward him.  He stepped away nervously, before turning away from her.

"I think…maybe…maybe we should postpone dinner tonight," he said quickly.

"Yeah, maybe we should," Monica replied flatly, her disappointment melting into aggravation.

"In fact, maybe it's better that we keep this relationship strictly professional.  I don't want Iz getting hurt," Chandler rambled, as he picked up the two glasses of wine he'd previously poured for them, and walked past Monica into the kitchen, before placing the wine on the kitchen counter.

"Actually, I think maybe you should start looking for a new nanny altogether, Chandler," Monica stated, as she crossed the room and opened the front door, "this was just a transition for me until I could get a real job anyway."

Panic flashed through Chandler's eyes, though Monica missed it.  She had turned to leave, all the while hoping that Chandler would stop her and ask her to stay.  Her back to him, she was unaware of his internal struggle, and the way he wore his conflicting emotions on his face.  When it seemed clear that he was not going to reply, she walked fully through the doorway, and closed the door firmly behind her.

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Two Weeks Later

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"Honey, please stop fidgeting," Chandler sighed, as he attempted to pull Isabelle's hair into a ponytail.  Her constant wiggling, combined with his own nervousness, was making it nearly impossible for him to get her hair straight.

The past two weeks had been hell, as neither Chandler nor Monica had taken the initiative to talk about what had happened between them.  Monica would come over just as Chandler was leaving for work, then would leave almost immediately after he returned home.  Their conversations revolved solely around Isabelle, and though Monica wasn't cold toward Chandler, there was a definite wall between them.  While Chandler longed to talk to Monica about trying to rebuild at least a friendship, his own fears over where that might lead kept him from doing so.

"Iz, please stop!" Chandler snapped, his frustration with himself shining through.  The little girl started, then sat up straight, as her father wrapped her hair in a band and a pink ribbon silently.  Slowly, he picked Isabelle up off of the barstool, and placed her on the floor, before crouching down and turning her toward him.

"Honey, daddy's sorry he yelled, okay?"

Isabelle nodded, but kept her eyes on the floor.  Chandler sighed, and stood up, then looked over at the clock.

"Okay, go pick out your favorite shoes, because we have to go!"

Isabelle brightened at this, and scrambled to her room, as Chandler picked his tie up off of the counter and tossed it around his neck.

For a moment, the apartment fell into silence.

He wouldn't see Monica today.  She had a job interview with a hot new downtown restaurant that, according to Rachel, she was practically a shoe-in for.  And today, more than any other, he really needed her.

It was Isabelle's first day of school, and Chandler had been awake all night, his mind full of worry.  He wasn't ready for this—she was his baby, and he wasn't sure he could just leave her in the hands of total strangers all day long.

Isabelle walked back into the room, her black patent leather Mary Jane's in her hands.  She looked up at Chandler, as she held out her shoes, and Chandler felt his throat constrict.

He just wasn't ready for this.

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*

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Monica glanced up at the clock, as she was being escorted through the back of the restaurant and into the small office adjacent to the kitchen.

'Chandler would be taking Isabelle to her first day of Kindergarten soon', she thought to herself, and let out a heavy sigh.

Deep down, she wanted to be there, to help him see her off, to make sure she'd be okay.

She'd been up half the night, worried more about Isabelle and Chandler than her own interview.  Though she and Chandler had barely talked since the night he'd kissed her, she still got to see him nearly every day.  And though she would never admit it to him, she cherished that little fact. 

Initially, she'd been upset with Chandler for the way he'd acted that night, but as they slowly settled into their new 'routine' that anger melted slowly into sadness.

It was his friendship, which she was missing more than anything else.

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"So Monica, what do you think?  I know the menu needs some tweaking, but…" The restaurant owner smiled nervously, his obvious attraction to Monica thinly veiled.

"It's a great place, Mr. Becker," Monica nodded, "would you mind if I took a day to think it over?"

"Not at all," Mr. Becker grinned, "and please, call me Pete."

.

*

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"Okay, now remember, you listen to everything Miss Harper tells you, okay?" Chandler was crouched in front of Isabelle, straightening her dress as they stood in the doorway to Miss Harper's classroom.  Inside, children were wandering around the room, taking in the new surroundings, as nervous parents were being reassured over and over again by the young teacher patiently.

A moment later, Chandler felt a hand on his shoulder.  He turned and looked up to see Miss Harper standing over him, a patient smile on her face.

"We'll take good care of her Mr. Bing," she said softly, then turned her attention toward Isabelle, "Isabelle, don't you look pretty!  Would you like to come inside with me?"

Isabelle looked back at her father for permission, and he nodded reluctantly.  She turned back to Miss Harper and nodded.

"Okay, come on in, and find a chair, okay?" Miss Harper smiled, and Chandler stood up, as Isabelle made her way into the classroom.  Chandler stared after her, a concerned frown on his face.

"She'll be just fine, Mr. Bing, I promise," Miss Harper smiled reassuringly.

Chandler nodded silently, then watched as Miss Harper entered the room and gathered the children quickly and adeptly.  He sighed heavily, and shuffled down the hallway and out of the school building, his heart heavy. 

For a moment, he stood on the sidewalk just outside the school, trying to regain his composure.  Logically, he knew that he would see Isabelle in a few hours, and that she was more than ready to spend the day with children her own age.  But no matter how logical it seemed, he was having trouble figuring out just what he was going to do when, inevitably, she grew up, and moved away to college, then out on her own.  What would he do then?  How was he supposed to function without her?

He leaned heavily against the cool brown brick of the school building, and covered his face with his hands.

He missed Caitlin.  He knew that right about now, she'd be calmly assuring him that no matter what, Iz would always be a part of their lives, just as they were a part of hers.  She would tell him that she was only five, and that he was going to have to let go sometime.  She would take his hand, and tell him that everything was going to be okay.

"Are you alright?"

Chandler pulled his hands from his face, and opened his eyes slowly.

"She's growing up too fast," he said softly, his eyes glistening.

"Everything is gonna be fine, Chandler.  Come on," Monica extended her hand, and he took it, squeezing it as though it was the only thing that would keep him from falling.

"How did you know I would be here?" Chandler asked, as they made their way down the street.

"It was Isabelle's first day of school—where else would you be?" Monica laughed.

"Thank you," Chandler stopped suddenly, and Monica turned to face him, "You have no idea how much I needed a friend today."

"You're welcome," Monica smiled softly, before resuming their walk home.