Alright, here we have it, another chap for this fic. Granted, if history proves anything, updates for my other fics will be along shorty. I probably should be studying for my huge-ass tests tomorrow, but...yeah...this is so much more important.
"Miss Geller, I really do not appreciate all of you nurses not caring about the patients as much as you care about meeting men!"
"I'm sorry, Doctor Stevens," she mumbled out, "I wasn't flirting though, I was only doing what I have been trained to do."
He gave her a skeptical look, "I hardly believe that," he said bluntly, "Now, if you would do your actual job," he stressed his words, "And keep Mr. Tribbiani here company while I go and finish out this paperwork."
"Ah, yes, my duty. Keeping the men company, that's quite an important job, yes?"
"Watch your tongue," he snapped at her, before leisurely walking out of the stark white recovery wing. She could have kicked him right then and there, but then she would get her own little kick, right back home, which was exactly the place she was trying to avoid.
"He's an ass, isn't he?"
Monica whirled around, "Oh! Hi there! Welcome back to the land of the living! How are you feeling?" She tired to put on the best smile that she could, but it really wasn't working. It probably would have scared off any other guy, but this one, this one was just amused.
"You can cut the bullshit, but do keep the smile!" He laughed merrily, "That is about the worst fake smile I have ever seen, and trust me I have seen a lot of those!"
Monica lowered her head a little, "Sorry, it's what we're trained to do. I really don't understand why they really need us here anyways, it's not like the doctors can't manage by themselves," she sighed, "Hell, ten bucks says he's not filing papers and in fact is talking up the secretary out front. He's had a thing for her ever since she transferred here two weeks ago."
"I can see why," he blurted out, "She's a babe!"
"A babe?" Monica raised her eyebrows, "Well, then, I guess this might change your opinion, she would chase after any thing that moved."
"And? Your point being?"
Monica shook her head, "So this is what Joey Tribbiani is like."
"What?"
"Well, you see, all I get is this chart that tells me information that the navy deems important enough to put in a file. So, all through the surgery or while the patient is sleeping, all I know is your chart and your face, but never anything else."
"What, do you try and imagine what I'm like or something?"
Monica blushed a little, "Yes, it's a silly game really. I play it with my friends sometimes. But this is the first time I've ever gotten to see if I was right or not."
"Well, where you?"
Monica smiled sheepishly, "Not really."
"Well, what did you think I was like then?"
Monica smiled faintly, "I had you as the quiet type, a bookworm maybe. You know, the kind of guy that doesn't assume much, and really don't think too highly of himself."
"You got all of that from my chart?"
She shrugged, "I told you it was a silly game."
"No, no, it sounds like fun! Here, I wanna try! Give me some guy's chart!" Joey lunged forwards, flying up far too quickly, and pulling on his shoulder. "OW! DAMMIT!"
Monica bit her lip, "No! No! You have to stay back! You idiot!" She chuckled out her words, "There was a reason you were laying down," she said softly, pulling him back down and replacing him in position.
He smiled sheepishly, "Sorry. I just get overly excited sometimes. Forget stuff."
"You forgot you dislocated your shoulder?" She raised her eyebrows skeptically, "That's kinda a hard thing to forget."
He laughed uncomfortably, "Well, I've done worse."
"Monica! Doctor Stevens needs you, he's over in the waiting room!" Phoebe walked into the recovery wing, her steps hurried like everyone else's, save the infamous Doctor Stevens.
Monica sighed, "Why does he always pick me! I mean, you were right over there, weren't you!"
"Ask me I think he's got a little bit of a soft spot for you!" Phoebe teased, while making kissing noises.
"Phoebe,"
"Ross is in the waiting room, he wants to talk to you," she said dully. "Jeez, you never let me have any fun!"
"Sure, that's just what I'm here for," she mused, smiling back at the blonde. "Alright, you take over with Mr. Tribbiani, he just needs someone to keep him company for a little bit."
Phoebe nodded, "Alright, then, hurry up before the good doctor loses his interest in the bombshell," she laughed, waving her arms to hurry Monica along.
"Fine, it was nice talking with you, Mr. Tribbiani, but this is Phoebe Buffay, and she'll be keeping you company for a little bit now." Monica smiled down at him, "And no more trying to get up, you promise me? Phoebe won't be so nice about it."
"Yes, because bringing it up again is the nice thing to do."
Monica smiled, then turned and scurried back towards the waiting room, cursing the navy for making them wear heels again. She had never quite gotten used to them, and she probably never would. She walked out through the glass door, and back into the plain waiting room.
"Monica!" Chandler shot back out of his chair, a goofy smile taking control of his lips.
She smiled back, "Have you seen my brother by any chance? I remember you saying you met him once, but do you remember what he even looked like?"
He nodded, "Yeah, kinda," he mumbled, "Expect not really."
"Well I was sent down here to meet him," she said to herself, and continued to look around the waiting room for any sign of movement.
"Oh well, there was a guy here, that looked kinda familiar, but he left a couple of minutes ago with a blonde nurse."
"Did he have dark hair?"
Chandler nodded, "Yeah, yeah, he did."
Monica shook her head, "Then it must have been Ross. He probably saw Rachel, and forgot about me." She shook her head in annoyance, "It figures."
"Well, you know, this isn't so bad, cause you can spend more time with me," Chandler offered a small, frightened smile.
Monica smiled warmly back at him, "And who's to say that I would like to spend more time with you, Mr. Bing?"
"Well, umm," Chandler mumbled, "You see, it's, umm,"
Monica grinned, "You're cute," she mused.
"Well I already knew that."
"And so modest too."
"Geller! We need you at curtain three, now!" Another nurse, Susan, yelled out at her, then slammed the door back shut.
"Well, duty calls," she sighed softly as she turned and made her way back towards curtain three.
"Hey would you like to," Chandler made out before Monica slammed the door shut again. "Dammit."
"For what it's worth, I think she likes you," a pretty blonde nurse walked over to Chandler, smiling softly. "She usually kicks most men," she mused.
"Erm-well, thanks, I guess," Chandler mumbled out, wondering why these woman were so amused by his love life, or lack there of, and found it necessary to console him every time.
"No problem, by the way, my name's Rachel Green, I'm one of Monica's friends, and you are?" She held out her hand, and Chandler accepted it, shaking it firmly,
"Chandler Bing."
"Mon," Phoebe poked her in the side, "What is wrong with you today? You haven't paid attention to one thing I have said all day!"
She shook her head, "Oh, sorry, Pheebs. What were you saying?" Her, Rachel, and Phoebe were leaving for the day, walking just outside of the hospital. It was still daylight out, but it was slowly fading into the beautiful Hawaiian sunsets she had grown accustomed too over the past few weeks. It was going to be hard going home and not seeing it every night.
"I was saying, would you like to go out tonight? Just, you, me, and Carol" Phoebe repeated herself, obviously annoyed by Monica's less then attentive state.
"Umm, sure, okay," Monica mumbled in response, still only half listening to what the blonde was saying.
Rachel shot her an amused looked, "Do you even know what you just agreed to do, Mon?" She asked, knowing perfectly well where Monica's mind was. She was going to lord it over her friend for years, she had finally fallen in love.
"Umm, sure, okay," she mumbled again, her mind focusing back to him again.
"Monica! Monica!"
Her heard jerked at the sound of that voice. She turned to see Chandler running after her, a bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other, "Chandler?" She said breathlessly, hoping that it wasn't just her imagination and it really was him.
He smiled brightly, before stopping to catch his breath from the heavy sprint. "Well, this must be fate," he breathed out, "Me standing here with two glasses and some wine, and you here too!" She gave him a look, and he smiled sheepishly, "Well, fate and a couple of hours."
"I think I might have a stalker," she teased.
He shrugged, "Stalker, stupid guy who is crazy enough to wait for a girl he just met and ambush her while she tires to leave for the day, same difference."
She laughed, unable to hold back a giant smile from spreading across her face. "Chandler, I'd like you to meet two of my friends, this is Phoebe Buffay and Rachel Green,." She motioned to each of the girls as she said their names, "Rach, Pheebs, and Carol this is Chandler Bing."
Phoebe raised and eyebrow, "Well know I know why you weren't listening," she commented, obviously amused by the situation.
Monica shot her a death glare, "Phoebe!"
"Well," Phoebe raised up her hands in defense, "Just stating the obvious."
"Well, I've already met Rachel, and I can only assume Phoebe is the hot nurse that spent time with my buddy Joe," Chandler smiled, "I've been told all about it, he's quite taken with you, Miss Buffay."
"Well he should be." Phoebe smiled, then grabbed Rachel's arm, linking it in her own, "Well," she tried to sound as normal as possible, "I think we'll just leave you two alone, right, Rach? I mean, we gotta go and check on that erm-ah, philange! Yes, yes, the philange! Come Rachel, the philange awaits!"
Chandler arched an eyebrow at the blonde's antics, mouthing the word 'philange' to Monica.
"Oh, yes! The philange! I can't believe we almost forgot about the philange!" Rachel blurted out, "Let's run faster, Pheebs, before they realize we forgot about the philange!"
"Well, you stay here, Mon, we'll will take care of the philange! It was nice meeting you, Chandler! Tell Joey I said 'hi'!" Phoebe smiled, and walked behind Chandler, Rachel still linked to her arm. Once behind him, the blondes proceeded to give Monica thumbs up signs, all trying to contain their girlish giggles from escaping.
Monica just shook her head at this, "My friends are sane, I promise you," she stated, half-joking, half-serious.
Chandler flashed her his dazzling smile again, "I think they're great!" He laughed, "They remind me of my friends back home."
"Really? Where are you from, anyways?" Monica walked over and took a seat on a nearby bench, looking up at him expectantly.
He walked over and took the seat besides her, then handed her two glasses he held in his hands, "Wine?" He asked, holding up the bottle.
"I'm only nineteen," she darted her eyes away from his, hoping he wouldn't mind. He obviously had thought she was older then what she was.
"So?" Chandler asked, amused by her forthrightness, "That's never stopped a lot of people."
"What is this, you're grand scheme to get a girl?" She teased, "Getting an underage girl drunk?"
"Hilarious," he deadpanned, "No, in all seriousness, I was just offering you some wine. You don't have to have any if you don't want it."
She shook her head, "No, no, I'd love some wine, Chandler." She smiled, holding up the two glasses for him to pour into.
He smiled, "Alright then," he popped open the wine, and then poured its red contents into the two glasses. "And in answer to your question, I'm from Long Island originally."
"Really?" She asked, handing him his glass, "Me too!"
"Whoa! That's grounds for a second date!"
She laughed, "Nice try, Romeo. You have a lot to do to make up for taking up stalking as a hobby in the past twenty-four hours. And besides, this isn't a date, this is an ambush. You said it yourself."
"You know, most people might just think of that as me being romantic or something," he smirked.
"Well, I just I'm not just most people then, huh?" She laughed, taking a sip of her wine. The liquid was bitter in her mouth, but in a good sort of way. She could feel it snake down her throat, and she could smell it leaving its taste on her lips. After that first taste, she never quite understood what was stopping her from drinking this her entire life.
"Well, if you're so," he emphasized the word 'so', "unhappy to see me again, then why'd you smile when you saw me?"
"Aph,"
He held up his hand, "Wait, wait, I've got more," he mused, "And if you're so annoyed by my mere presence, then why are you sitting here with me now drinking wine illegally?" He looked at her with mock seriousness, "I could turn you in for that, you know. Wouldn't want an officer of the US Army drinking any alcohol before they turn twenty-one, now would we?"
She glared playfully at him, "Well, most people wouldn't wait for a girl they had maybe spent five minutes with in desperate hopes they'd get to see her again."
"Do you always avoid questions?"
"Do you ever stop talking?" She mused, biting back her laugh.
He chuckled softly, "Well, Miss Geller, I do believe I have met my match." He held out his hand for her to shake, and she gladly accepted it, grinning madly.
"Well, Mr. Bing, I've worked so hard to come this far, and I'm not about to lose now."
He arched his eyebrow, "Really?" He tried to remain as serious as possible, but a hint of his smile still remained on his face.
She smiled, "So, Chandler, tell me about yourself. All I know about you is that you're a either a stalker or a hopeless romantic, I have yet to decide, from Long Island."
"What's there to tell? I was born. I went to school. I talked to a couple of people. Haven't quite died yet, though. I don't know, maybe there's still some life left in me."
"You're hilarious," she deadpanned.
"I'd like to think so," he mused, his smile beaming back at her. "And you're quite the charmer, Miss Geller."
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"
He smiled mischievously, a twinkle lingering in his eyes, "It wouldn't be so much fun if I told you, now would it?"
She glared playfully back at him, suppressing another smile from escaping on to her lips. "Well aren't we just the perfect gentleman?"
"Eh," he shrugged, "I do my best."
She smiled, unable to hold it back any longer. "So, Chandler, you're a pilot?" She asked, remembering back to his chart, "Enlisted or an officer."
"Officer, parents had me in a military school from the time I said 'dada' on."
"Eek," she commented, "Military school? And I thought my high school career was awful."
He shrugged, a different more somber personality coming out in him. His eyes didn't twinkle with amusement, and his smile had faded. "It was better then being at home," his voice didn't waver or change, it was just there, emotionless, mechanic even.
"I know the feeling," she sighed, remembering back to her family life. She really couldn't complain about their situation, she always had food, clothing, and a place to stay, it was just her parents. Her parents favored Ross so much more then her, it was so aggravating. She never knew why she had stayed for so long, what had kept her there.
"Is that why you became a nurse? To get away from home?"
She nodded, "It's not that bad, I guess. I guess I'm really just the black sheep who tired to dye my fur white. You know what I mean?"
He nodded, "Yeah, I guess I'm the same. My parents are society people, but as hard as I tired to fit in with their friends and their children, I couldn't keep pretending."
"So, a rich boy, eh?" Monica mused, trying to lighted up the conversation a little. "I think I'm starting to like your more already/"
"I think that's the wine, actually," he mused, "All in my grand scheme to get the girl, remember?" The twinkle in his eyes returned as he spoke, and another lighthearted grin took shape.
"No, haven't drank that much yet," she smiled, "You should smile more often, you're handsome when you smile."
"And that's to say that I'm not handsome all the time."
"You know most people would say something like: and you're beautiful too, but you're just to special for that."
He smirked proudly, "Of course, I'm not most people, and you're not most people. We're a perfect match."
"You don't give up very easily, do you?"
"Some people think that's a good thing."
"I think we've established we're not most people by now."
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