A/N- This is my first shot at a multi chapter fic so forgive me if it's not very good. It's a very Mondler fic but this chapter is very much Monica. I have plans for the other friends to figure in later chapters. I have a suspicion that this is not a very original idea but I was inspired by a GCSE English assignment so I haven't intentionally copied anyone. I would like to apologise if there is already a fic similar to this.

Disclaimer- Unfortunately nothing has changed since my first fic, I still don't own them! They are Bright, Kauffman and Crane's brilliant creations. Righty let's get on with it then!

When Dreams Are All You Have

Monica Geller sighed resignedly. As the light faded and darkness descended, she was alone again. She was cold and scared, lying in an empty bed with only the shadows and the voices in her head for company.

The days were long and slow and unfulfilling. Every morning she would get up at 8.25 prompt, get dressed, eat cereal for breakfast. She even had a routine for breakfast. First she got out the bowl and spoon and then poured the cereal and then added the milk and she always washed up the bowl before the spoon. These little obsessions were her life. Monica always left the house at 9.45 and arrived at her dead end job at 10am giving her just enough time to grab a coffee before the morning meeting at 10.15. With the traffic from her building to work, the journey was very hard to predict but after months of experimenting she had discovered the best time to leave, the best route to take even down to the best lane. Monica's life was nothing if not perfectly synchronised.

Today was no different. True to fashion, the alarm sounded at 8.23, giving her just enough time to wake up so she would be out of bed at 8.25. Two hours later she was sat listening to her boss, sipping her coffee, with semi skimmed milk stirred anticlockwise, and making notes. It could have been any day.

The day went by just as Monica expected. No one spoke to her not even to say "good morning" or "how are you?" Monica was convinced no one even knew she existed, she was sure no one would miss her if she were gone. At precisely 5pm she left the office and headed for the car, parked in the same spot as usual- equidistant from the exit of the car park to the building's exit. Once at home, she ate alone, watched TV alone, cleaned the apartment alone, showered alone and went to bed alone at exactly midnight and never a minute sooner for if the days were hard, the nights were harder.

Her room was eerie in the dark- so empty. The wind howled through the window for it was always kept slightly open- just enough to relieve the intensity of the night's pressure. The door was ajar too. Monica couldn't be completely enclosed in her room, her isolation. Often she would hear creaking noises from the living room and would be convinced someone was in the apartment but who would come visit her anyway? Her life was so dull and uninspiring she couldn't belief that there would be anything of interest even for a burglar still it was hard to relax when she knew there was no-one who could protect her.

Monica longed for a partner. Someone to hold her at night and to wake up to in the morning, someone to kiss goodbye when she left the apartment, someone to miss her while she was at work. Monica often dreamt of such a man and he had warm welcoming blue eyes and a cute hair cut that made him look childish and perhaps a little vulnerable yet with strong arms and most importantly a big heart. She had imagined their wedding, when they would have children and what their names would be. True to her character, even her imaginary relationship was planned right down to the last detail. When reality got tough, Monica slipped into her own little universe where there was love and laughter. For many hours she could dream but she never seemed to be able to stay there. One way or another she would be brought back down to earth. This time was no different. No sooner had she put her youngest daughter Niamh to sleep, she was back at apartment 20, too big for one lonely person. Monica glanced at the other side of her bed. Nothing. She was alone once again.

The Next Day:

In the office, Monica sat at her desk typing, typing, typing. She kept her head down and her ears closed. Around her there was a considerable hubbub. Her co-workers, or rather people who sat near her but never acknowledged her existence were excitedly chattering away. Something had ruffled their feathers. Monica suspected one of the receptionists had been up to some out of hour's activities and their 2-faced co-workers were one minute sucking up to get the goss and the next bitching behind their backs. How Monica would have killed to be the subject of the gossip. Monica was vaguely aware of her subordinate Wendy gleefully twittering about a guy but she refused to listen properly- no point invading where she wasn't wanted not when she had her own world where everything was about her. The words on the screen of her white, flat screen Apple Mac slowly blurred and the scenes of chaos around her were no more. She was in her beautiful Westchester home, pushing her little girls in the swing set whilst her husband read the newspaper.

"I'm sorry. I don't believe we've met," Monica cursed silently as once again she was pulled dragging and screaming into the real world. She spun round rapidly wondering what favour they needed this time. She opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by the sight in front of her,

"Hi," she managed to whisper. He smiled back at her and extended his hand,

"Chandler, Chandler Bing."

A/N- I'll leave it there for now. Sorry if this has rambled on a bit. I tend to take a while to get to my point! Please leave a review review. This is only my second fic and I need to know if I'm doing all right. I would also really appreciate any suggestions for better titles though I understand that you prob need to read more first.

Thanks, Stephanie