**

He supposed he had fallen asleep. He opened his eyes and the last thing he remembered was sitting on the hard bed. How the hell did he fall asleep? Or maybe a flying rock had hit him in the head knocking him unconscious..

Or maybe he had just fallen asleep and now was being rudely interuppted by a knock at his door.

Chandler struggled to sit up and then scrambled off the tosseled bed.

Whoever was ramming their knuckles on the other side of the door wasn't about to give up.

Oh. He knew who it was. Glenn. Wanting another 'party night'. Over his frickin dead body-

He swung open the door expecting to see the heavyset, grinning, already half-pissed man standing there - but was taken aback when a female stood in his path. 'Nikki' he assumed.

"It's you," he said in a small state of shock, his right hand still on the door handle. "It's *you*," Chandler repeated almost in a disgusted voice.

"Hi Chaandler," she greeted in a sultry sing-song voice, her hair neatly parted to the side and looking like a Patene commercial.

"What.. what.. what are you doing here?" He went to loosen his tie to find it already loosened and hanging around his neck.

She seemed shocked at his response, and she almost pushed her way into the cheap motel room. She stood holding a small fancy purse facing the window across the room.

"Last night was soo unbelievable.." she swooned, tossed her 'Monica' hair around a little and then turned back to Chandler who was still holding the metal door handle, wondering not only why this woman was in his life, but in his room -again-.

He shut the door and started to say, "Yeah, I was pretty-" a witty remark always being his vocal reflex, but he caught his tongue and turned around to face her.

It was insane. She totally looked like Monica. It was like some weird 'twilight zone evil twin' thing. She was dressed down in a cute shirt and skirt outfit. With of course the two complimentary colors, red and black, topped off with some black spike heels. Heels Mon wore for fancy dinners out on the town.

"Why are you here?" His tongue released and more logical words were spit out. He was beginning to get nervous again.

Nikki chuckled silently and took a seat on one of the padded motel wooden chairs (also splattered with barf colors) as she pulled a silver cigarette case from her tiny purse.

"I came to see you honey, why do you think, because I like the smell of these rooms so much?" she chuckled, stuck a long cigarette in her mouth, brushed her hair back and lit it with a match.

"I am *not* your honey..." Chandler stressed, a hand back into his pants pocket. He just wasn't ..getting any of this.

She stood up and gracefully took a few steps until they were standing eye to eye.

"Aww Chand-ee. What's wrong hon? Feeling a little.. tense?" Nikki cooed and used her cigarette-free hand to grip his forearm.

Chandler swallowed and after a few seconds whipped his 'tense' arm out of his pocket and he backed away a few steps, then ran it through his short hair.

"No I am not.. tense," he denied and wondered what the hell to say or do next.

He did not want a repeat of the night before. It hurt enough already.

"Look.. what do you want from me anyway?"

Nikki took a long drag off her cigarette, exhaling the smoke as high ribbons into the air.

"Why I want you daring," she said simply and smiled seductively.

Chandler found that hard to believe. Nobody ever just 'wanted him'. It was hard enough just to get 'one' to want him. Monica. And it wasn't like everybody with 'Monica features' would want him too right....?

Nikki studied the look on his face. Mouth slightly open, eyes bugged out a little bit, confused out of his mind and probably flabbergasted. Perhaps even a bit flattered at her intense interest.

She sighed.

"You're going to give me money Chandler Bing. And you're going to give me lots of it," she simply said and put her hands at her waist.

**