"Good morning, babe,"

I grunted and opened my eyes as I heard the whisper in my ear.  A light kiss landed on my temple and I turned my head to see Monica, her face inches from mine, smiling at me.  I instantly smiled back.

"Hi," I said softly. "What time is it?"

"8:00.  Get up, babe," She threw the covers off me and I groaned, curling up in a fetal position.  I was still sleepy.

"It's Saturday, Mon," I said.  "Why do we have to get up so early?"

"So we can meet up with the wedding planner, remember?"

"And what time will that be?"

"1:00," came the immediate reply.

I groaned, louder this time.  "Mon…"

"C'mon, c'mon…" she got a hold of my hands and attempted to pull me out of bed.  "I promise, if you get up now, there'll be a hot shower waiting for you…oops, did I say 'you'? I meant 'us'…"

She gave me a naughty smile and immediately, I felt energized.  I sat up and reached for a kiss, but she moved away.

"Ah ah ah…" she warned, wagging her finger at me. "Brush your teeth first, Mr. Bing,"

I sighed and pretended to be disappointed.  I find Monica's quirks funny.  It's part of what makes her such a great girl to be with.

"You are a hard one to please, Monica Geller," I said, shaking my head. "A thousand girls would've died for that kiss you just avoided,"

"Maybe that's because you haven't brushed your teeth yet, Chandler Bing," I caught a twinkle in her eye.  "And it's not going to be 'Monica Geller' for long…"

I padded into the dining room after I was done brushing my teeth and saw Joey and Rachel already eating breakfast.  Monica was by the sink, doing something that concerned the still-clean plates.  I walked over to her, tied my hands around her waist and kissed her cheek from behind.

"That's more like it," she smiled at me. "Oh, did you remember to splash water on the sink after you brushed your teeth so the toothpaste doesn't leave stains?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Of course I remembered," I told her.

"Oh, you should," said Rachel from the table.

"Hey, it does leave stains," persisted Monica.

I ended the conversation before it escalated into something bigger then took a seat between Joey and Rach.  I reached for a piece of toast and the paper from its usual spot on the table.  The spot was empty.

"Hey, where's the paper?" I asked.  "Anybody take it?"

"Joey had it a while ago," Rachel took a sip of her coffee. 

"I did?" Joey looked confused.  "Wait…which Joey are we talking about here?"

I snorted at his direction.  Sometimes, his ignorance had me stupefied.

"Joey, there's only one 'Joey', and that's you.  Now where's the paper?"

"What paper?"

Oh God.

"The paper, Joe.  If you didn't know, it's a shortcut we Americans use for 'newspaper'," I told him exasperatedly.

He gave me a blank stare, which changed into something that resembled realization a minute later.

"Ohhhh," he said.  "The paper, right.  Yeah…"

"So where is it?" I asked again.

"It's on the couch," he told me, biting into a slice of leftover pizza.

I got up, jogged towards the den area and looked at the couch.

The paper was there alright.  In pieces.  The pages were all over the place.

"Joey!" I said, picking up a stray page and carrying it back with me to the dining room.

"What, what?" said Joey, confused.  He looked as if I was going to accuse him of a crime.

"What's wrong honey?" asked Rachel.

"What's wrong? Joey, what'd you do to this? You've…you've desecrated the paper!!"

I have this thing about the newspaper.  I like my paper with its pages in order, preferably untouched and free of jam stains.  I like reading through it in an ordered manner.  I don't know why, but that's one thing I get freakishly neat about.  Now, it was in pieces.

"Oh," said Joey, seeing what I was holding.  "I was looking for the comics,"

"Did he make a mess in the den?" Monica rushed over to the disaster site.  "Oh Joey…"

"Comics?" I couldn't believe the reason on why my paper had been disturbed.  "The comics don't come until Sunday, man!"

"Oh?" Joey looked confused again.  "Isn't today a Sunday?"

"NO, it's a Saturday," I told him.  "Man…"

I let the newspaper page fall to the floor.  No use reading that now.

"I'm sorry, Chandler," Now, Joey looked apologetic.  "Really, I'll make it up to you…"

"You can buy him a new paper from the corner," Rachel suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do that…and coffee…and maybe a pizza and some donuts…"

"Joey!" Rachel scolded. "It's for Chandler, not for you,"

"Oh yeah, yeah, right, sorry," he stood up.  "I'll go get it now…"

"Oh, you'd better," I told him, my arms folded across my chest.  I really wasn't in the mood for any of his antics.  I was still sleepy and annoyed at what he'd done the night before.

Joey left and Monica emerged from the den, the remains of the news in her hands.  She stuffed it into the trash.

"Well, someone's Mr. Grumpy today," she commented.

"Yeah, Chandler, you're stealing my thunder," said Rachel.  "I'm supposed to be the bitchy morning person,"

"Forget it," I told them, taking my seat again.  "I'm just tired,"

"Aw, poor baby," Monica ran a hand through my hair.  "I bet a nice shower will fix that,"

"That depends," I said, eyeing her.  "Who'll I be in the shower with?"

We kissed and I heard Rachel put down her coffee cup with a loud clink!

"Okay, okay, please don't do that in front of people who just ate," she said, looking disgusted. 

"You do it with Ross," I grinned at her.

"That is low, Bing! Now you've made me even more nauseous!" she stood up and turned towards the door.  "Thanks for a great breakfast, Mon.  I'll see you later when you're both done making out,"

"Sure honey," replied Monica.

When Rachel was gone, Monica faced me again, a smile playing on her lips.  I could feel my heart beating faster and faster the longer I took in her ocean eyes.  A wisp of raven hair found its way to her face and I brushed it back with my fingers.

"Now where were we…"

I moved in for the kill.

Bang! The door slammed open and we threw ourselves off each other instinctively.  Joey stood in the doorway sheepishly.

"Sorry but, uh, I'm a little strapped for cash so…"

"In the cookie jar, honey," Monica told him quickly. 

"Which one?"

"On the counter…the purple one…"

Joey stared at her for a minute and before the answer dawned on him, I strode over to the jar, opened the lid, shoved my hand inside, grabbed a 20 and planted it in his palm.

"There.  Go on, buy the paper, coffee, donut, plane ticket, whatever," I told him, pushing him out the door.

"Oh, that's the cookie jar.  I thought it was called a 'money jar' since money's inside instead of cookies…"

"See you later, Joe,"

I closed the door, locked it and hurried to my blushing fiancée.

"Where were we again…oh yeah…"

We kissed and I saw the whole universe dance in front of my eyes.