Okay so I just got this idea for a new fic (to start only AFTER this one's finished so that I won't get distracted) that I'm really excited about writing. The only thing is that if I followed the whole plot that I've worked through in my head, Monica would pass away. BUT, that would only be because she's really old. Most of the story would be in the "past" for Mon and Chan. I just wanted to run that by you because I know I promised before that I would never kill off any of the friends, so I just wanted to ask whether you would be interested in reading something like that? I would make the basic story really good though (as good as possible). If this doesn't make sense to you, I'm sorry. Lol.
PLEASE--NO ONE STEAL THAT VAGUE IDEA! =)
Mncali – yeah, that whole 'year older than classmates' thing does feel really weird. A good thing about it though is that all of my friends are jealous because I already have my driving permit. =D When I told this one guy-friend about the permit, whenever he saw me after that for the rest of the day he would shout "Despise!!" and make a clawing motion with his hands. It was scary. Lol, just thought I'd share that.
Anyway! Sorry about that half-page of my life. Back to the story! The song I used in this chapter has, I know, been used probably thousands of times in fanfics, but I love it so I figured that it deserved to be used again. =)
Disclaimer – None of the "Friends" characters belong to me. Neither does the show, obviously. However, 'Bright, Kauffman & Crane' – if they, you know, need somewhere to go at the end of this season, I'd be happy to . . . (*wink*)
Someone to Lean On
Chapter 11: Asking For More
The man was dressed in a sharp-looking suit, though it didn't match his actual personality, and had a young woman with a proud look on her face at his elbow. She looked around the age of 25 or so.
Chandler shuddered, predicting what would soon happen to that woman when she realized the "real" George. He noticed Monica was slowly starting to climb under the table, and immediately stopped her.
"I can't let him see me!" Monica exclaimed, fear clearly visible in her eyes.
Chandler leaned across the table and took her hands in his. "First of all, you look a hell of a lot happier than he does. Second of all, I won't let him near you. I won't let him lay a hand on you. You trust me, right?" Monica could hear in his voice that he was telling the truth.
She nodded slowly. "You're right. I-I can't let him control my life anymore. I can't." Monica shrugged and said triumphantly, "For all I care, he doesn't even exist anymore."
Chandler smiled and nodded, giving her hands one last squeeze before letting them go. "That's the way. Now, let's eat. I'm starving."
Monica returned his smile. Though, against her own will, she couldn't help glancing back in the direction of her ex-boyfriend before picking her menu back up. He and his little friend were now being led across the restaurant towards a free table. However, the only problem was that they were going to have to go right past Monica and Chandler to get to one.
As they passed, recognition flashed across George's face when he saw Monica. In his observing, Chandler noticed something else in the man's eyes, too . . . a something that for some reason he didn't want to identify. George's gaze then turned to Chandler, and anger was then read in his features; jealousy too. Chandler returned George's glare evenly, not trusting enough to break eye contact until the two had been led past.
Chandler shook his head, puzzled and worried. Something was definitely not right with that guy. Something Chandler wasn't intent on discovering.
He looked back at Monica and watched her restraint as she looked over the menu and his anger quickly dissolved. The only thing that mattered was what he had gotten out of this whole mess. He had Monica.
~*~*~*~*~*~
By the time Monica and Chandler got back home, it was nearly eleven. After the couple had eaten, Chandler had told their cab driver to take them to Central Park. They had strolled in the large park, and had admired as much as they could see of the trees' brightly colored leaves. After a while of walking, they had sat on a bench and just talked, each carefully avoiding their run-in with George.
Their night out had proved to be stress-relieving, and they both were in great moods as they walked into the apartment. It looked as if Joey had been home because the dishes were done, and a brief scan of the countertop revealed a note from Joey saying that he had had another late date and probably wouldn't be back until morning. A winking smiley-face located near that last statement exposed more than Chandler and Monica really needed to know.
Chandler turned to Monica after they both had read the note. "You know what this means?"
"That our friend will soon be on page 142 of the Guinness Book of World Records for the most women laid on one night?" Monica answered jokingly.
Chandler laughed, "Well, that too. But, this also means that we'll have the entire apartment to ourselves tonight." He stepped closer to her and kissed her softly on the lips while simultaneously running a finger down the side of her face, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Oh, that's true," Monica grinned contentedly and put her arms around the back of his neck, pulling herself closer. "What do you have in mind?"
He drew her against his body and kissed her again, with more concentration this time. She pulled away long enough to say that that sounded like a plan, and then they continued kissing, gradually making their way into the bedroom.
*One Hour Later*
Chandler wrapped an arm around Monica's small form and his lips brushed against hers. She smiled and rolled over to face him, her head resting on his chest. He slowly ran his fingers through her hair and reveled in how satisfied he felt right now. He was positive that he was the happiest he had been in all his life, all because of one woman: Monica Geller. Chandler considered himself the luckiest man in the world at this moment.
Monica, on the other hand, felt the exact same way—though she also was doing some heavy thinking. Something had been bothering her in the back of her head for the past few days, and she hadn't been able to figure out what it was until tonight. She already had Chandler, but for some reason that just didn't feel like enough. Monica wanted to be sure she would have him for the rest of their lives. She felt guilty for thinking it, but she wanted to marry him. Not only was it something she had dreamed of her whole life, it meant something more now. It would be a sort of security, and she longed for it so much it hurt.
Lying here with you, listening to the rain
Smiling just to see the smile upon your face
These are the moments I thank god that I'm alive
These are the moment I'll remember all my life
I've found all I've waited for
And I could not ask for more
--
I could not ask for more than this time together
I could not ask for more than this time with you
Every prayer has been answered
Every dream I have's come true
And right here in this moment is where I'm meant to be
Here with you here with me . . .
("I Could Not Ask For More" by Edwin McCain)
~*~*~*~*~*~
"Whose address do you want again, Mr. Lokstrom?" the impatient desk clerk asked the man standing in front of her in the local County Office. It had been a long day and she had much better things to do than wait on some random guy wanting to know some random street address.
"He's a guy by the name of John Mills. It should be local – I'm not sure whether it's an apartment or a house." George shifted his position irritably in front of the counter. It annoyed him—how long this was taking. He had already told three people that exact same thing, and each had passed him on to another worker.
Ms. Reedah, as the clerk's name tag read, typed something into a computer which was facing away from George. She glanced away from the screen to the man, natural sarcasm audible in her voice. "I've got it here. I'm assuming you have a good and believable story for wanting to know this address?"
Damn it, George thought. He would have gotten through this a whole lot quicker if he had only used his internet skills at home to tap into a couple of hidden files, which were a lot easier to locate than some may have thought. But no, like an idiot, he had to do things the hard way and risk being caught in the act.
He needed a story. Quick.
He plastered on what he hoped was a convincing smile. "It's my Dad. Yeah. He actually moved without giving me his address, and I really need to know it so that I can check on him. You see . . . Dad's mentally handicapped."
"Well, like father like son. Did you ever think that maybe he doesn't want you to have his address? Maybe that's why he didn't give it to you."
George gripped the edge of the tall counter tightly but succeeded in not showing his anger in any other way. "Don't you think I need to know why he didn't want me to have it, then? In families, communication is the key."
"You're a damn bad liar, you know that?" She glanced at her watch and sighed heavily. "You know what? I'm tired. I've already worked two hours over my normal shift today and still, you weasels keep coming in, lining up. Questions, questions, questions. Know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna give you this address just to get you out of my way so I can go home. I have a family too, you know."
She read the address off rapidly, but slowly enough so that George had time to pull out a pen and scribble it down in the palm of his hand. He smiled in thanks, then left the building and took a taxi immediately to the address.
A/N:
If this part confuses you, I apologize. I promise that it will all make sense soon though! And not a lot happened in it, which I apologize for also. A little hint: If you didn't realize this already, look back at chapter 5 to find out why George was trying to find that certain guy's address.
Let's see, what else can I bore you with? Lol. Maybe I'll just ask you to review. Yeah, I'll do that. Please review and tell me what you think! If you want me to continue, say so. If you don't, say so but please add good reasoning. =D Thank you guys so much for reading!
Seeya! (Did you know that word is actually Spanish for chair? Actually, that way its spelled 'silla', but they're both pronounced the same way! Hehe, I thought that was interesting – plus it's really late and I'm tired. I'll go now. =))