A/N- Hey guys! I didn't want to make you wait as long this time for an update, so here is the next chapter ready for you. :)

I've said it before, and I'll say it again – thank you all for your wonderful reviews! They really do all make me smile! And I'm so happy you are all enjoying the storyline so far, there's still so much more to come.

I haven't really got much else to say in this a/n other than I hope you enjoy!

P.S There is a mini easter egg in this chapter, so see if you can spot it ;)

"You will be the one I'll be thinking about before I fall asleep tonight," she murmured gently in his ear before placing a delicate kiss beneath his ear lobe, followed by another one, and another until she was tracing a wet trail down his neck.

Chandler felt his chest immediately constrict at the sensation and closed his eyes as her warm lips grazed his skin. He rolled his neck to the side to allow for more room when suddenly a loud screech rang in his ear.

His body shot up in bed, his heart pounding against his ribs – because of the dream or because of the unexpected screech he wasn't sure. Probably both. He looked down to the right of him and saw the culprit who had infuriatingly roused him from his sleep, disrupting what could have turned into a very enjoyable dream. He let out a sigh as a pair of gleaming, bright blue eyes stared up at him, its pupils fully dilated.

"What are you doing in here, Roly?" Chandler asked as he began to lightly scratch the cat behind its ears, resulting in a soft rumble emitting from its throat as it purred gratefully.

Chandler gazed over at his bedroom door and saw that it was slightly open, allowing for him to wander in sometime during the early hours of the morning.

Seventeen years ago, London was hit by one of the bitterest winters it had ever had, leading to many homes becoming infested with rats, searching for warmth. The Bings had bought Roland as a way of counteracting this problem and found he was brilliant. He used up his hyperactive energy to hunt through the house for the disease-riddled rodents whilst simultaneously providing companionship, especially for Chandler. In recent years, however, due to his growing age, he had become more domesticated. Often, he curled up in the living room in front of the fire, relishing in its heat.

It was obvious now to Chandler that he had accidently rolled over on to him, which is why his eardrums had nearly ruptured, shocking him out of his sleep.

"Sorry bud, I didn't mean to nearly crush you."

He continued fussing him, rubbing his knuckles under his chin, causing the volume of his purring to steadily increase. It was still fairly dark in his bedroom, with only the tiniest glimmer of light seeping in through a crack in his curtains. Sunrise was approaching, meaning it was time to get up soon. He knew the other two bedrooms across the hall would already be vacated, the occupants dotted throughout the house either setting up the coffeehouse downstairs or in the parlour eating.

Chandler laid his head back against his arm which was bent behind his head, resting it on the pillow, whilst his other hand glided through the silky fur on Roly's back. His mind wandered back to last night, replaying everything that had happened in his head. He couldn't believe how effortlessly he had conversed with her, how easy it was to tell her about his life. He'd only ever spoken like that with one other girl in his life, but she was more like a sister. This – this was different. The connection he felt with…oh god. He realised he didn't even know her name, just that she was called Miss Geller. Even still, the connection he felt with her was something he had never felt before, which was insane because they barely even knew each other and…she was well…a prostitute. Strangely though, this didn't bother him in the slightest, despite the reputation they held.

In Chandler's mind, you should never judge someone by what they do if you don't even know their backstory. He knew many women got involved with prostitution because they were left with no other choice, and for them, it was their only means of survival. It was not his place to judge, and so he wouldn't.

"You wouldn't judge either, would you Roly?" By now, his eyes were closed, and his purring had quietened.

Chandler sighed again, unable to get her out of his head. And the fact that he had asked her to…help him too. God, he had no idea where that had come from, but he was glad he did. He needed to find out when he would be next available so that he could go back and see her as soon as. He hated the thought of not seeing her for a while. Or the fact that in the meantime, other men would be with her.

Oh, God. No, he couldn't think like that. This was what she did, this was her life. He had absolutely no ownership over her, he had no right to feel anything in that regard. And yet, the thought of other older, sleazy men slobbering over her made his stomach churn.

He was amazed that he felt like this over a woman he had met less than barely twenty-four hours ago. It was ridiculous.

Chandler shook his head in exasperation and sat up, waking Roland, who moodily jumped off the bed, his tail up in the air. By now, the sun was peering up over the other buildings outside, and within the next half an hour, the first customer would be pushing their way into the coffeehouse, grabbing a hot drink to energize them for the day.

Stretching, Chandler got up and quickly changed into some suitable clothes, ready for a day of work, before following Roland out of the room. Sure enough, when he got into the hallway, he saw the other two bedroom doors were open, confirming his suspicions that he was the last one up. Each step creaked as he went down the stairs, which lead straight into the kitchen where he noticed some cold ham and a jar of jam on the counter. Rachel had no doubt gone out early this morning to get them.

Chandler picked up the milk which was sitting in the centre of the table and poured some into a bowl for Roly to drink. Immediately, he began lapping away as Chandler began to spread some jam onto some bread for his breakfast. He jumped when he heard a voice from the side of him.

"I see you're up then."

It was his mother who began heating a small pan of water on their cast iron range.

"Yeah, Roly woke me up. I must have accidentally left my door open last night when I went to bed," Chandler replied as he bit into his jam slice.

"Ah yes, now you mention it, where, exactly, were you last night?" She asked curiously as she got out a mug from the cupboard.

Chandler continued chewing, only swallowing when he thought of an answer.

"I went out for a bit, had a few beers, got chatting to some people, you know, the usual," he replied nonchalantly.

Nora raised her eyebrows, suddenly interested. "Oh yeah, like who?"

Chandler rolled his eyes and took another bite of his jam slice.

"No one, mum, just some guys. I don't even remember their names," he lied.

"So, no girls then?" His mother inquired nosily as she began pouring the now boiling water into her mug, then cutting up a slice of lemon and adding it in.

Chandler bit his tongue, irritated. "No, mum," he grit out.

Nora put her hands up in mock surrender, "Alright, alright! I was only asking. Anyway, I'm going to be upstairs today writing whilst your father is in the study doing the last of the finances for this week. He said to take a day off from working with him today and that you should help Rachel out front instead.

Chandler swallowed his final bite, wiping the crumbs off his chest onto the stone floor before replying.

"Okay, anything else you want me to do?"

"No, that's it darling. I'll see you at lunch."

She turned the range off, picked up her mug of hot lemon water, and placed a kiss on his cheek before she went back upstairs, Roland trailing after her having finished his milk.

Chandler went into the scullery beside the kitchen and placed his plate in the sink, ready to wash later with the other used plates and utensils.

He walked out of the scullery and into the hallway which lead to the front of the building where the coffeehouse was. In there, he saw Rachel sitting down by the front window, a piece of chalk, and a large fragment of slate in her hand.

"Hey, Rach!" Chandler greeted her as he walked behind the counter and scooped out a large batch of coffee beans, ready to be grounded and roasted. He knew Rachel had already done a few batches, but there was no harm in doing some extra.

"Hey, Chandler! I'm just writing the specials down," she smiled over at him.

Rachel was their longest-serving waitress and their most loyal one. She began working for them when she was fifteen, just over four years ago. However, when she reached eighteen, her father, who was one of the most respected physicians in the area, requested that she leave so that she could settle down and do what was expected of her: find a suitor, get married, and have children. Rachel refused though, and it resulted in a massive row between her and her parents, but mostly her father. He told her how he was proud of his other two daughters, Amy and Jill, who had married into successful families, and that he just wanted the same for her. Rachel never let up though, and her relationship with her parents became massively strained, so Chandler's parents offered her their spare bedroom, and Rachel had been living with them ever since.

Feeling guilty though, Rachel offered to become their servant as a way of showing her eternal gratitude. Of course, his parents waved off her offer, saying she didn't need to, but she was stubborn, and so they relented. Despite having the funds, his parents never wanted a servant, and weren't like other middle-class families, so they never treated her like a servant and never spoke down to her or expected anything from her, but she continued to run errands for them anyway.

Instead, they treated her like a daughter. An extra child to dote upon. Chandler never knew why he was an only child or why his parents had never had any more children. It was unusual. In fact, it was practically unheard of to only have one child. He never asked though, feeling it wasn't his place nor his business. But having Rachel around felt like having a little sister, and he felt very protective of her.

"Soooo, where did you disappear to last night?" She asked in the same curious tone as his mother.

Chandler rolled his eyes once more, "Not you and all."

Rachel finished writing down the last special on the slate board: blueberry muffins.

"Has your mom already grilled you?" She grinned.

"What do you think?" He huffed as he continued to grind the coffee beans.

Rachel laughed as she put the slate in the front window, telling the world what was on offer at their warm, cosy coffeehouse.

"So, are you not going to tell me then?" She asked teasingly.

"I fancied going somewhere new, so I headed over to the other side of town, you know by Haggerston?"

Hearing this made Rachel's eyebrows shoot up. They may as well have disappeared into her hairline.

"What were you doing over in that end? Isn't it supposed to be…you know…" she trailed off.

Chandler stopped grinding and looked up at her as she came back over to the counter, leaning on it, waiting for an answer.

He wasn't about to tell her about Miss Geller, but he saw no harm in telling her he went out for some drinks. "Actually, it wasn't too bad where I went. It was a nice little tavern called…err…The Stin- wait no, The Smelly Cat. Yeah, that was it."

Rachel started laughing light-heartedly, taking the now ground up coffee beans from him. "What an interesting name for a tavern."

Chandler shrugged, grinning, "I think it's pretty cool. Different to what we usually hear. It's normally something cliché like 'The Red Lion'."

"Hmmm. Remind me to go there sometime," she hummed as she walked out, back to the kitchen to roast the coffee grounds. It usually took around fifteen to twenty minutes for them to roast, and they took it in turns to go and put them in and then to retrieve them once they were done.

"I will!" Chandler called after her as a loud knocking sounded at the door.

A small group of customers were waiting outside, wrapped up in scarfs and hats, rubbing their hands together frantically in an attempt to keep them warm.

Chandler looked up at the clock on the wall, and sure enough, it was time to open. He had a feeling today was going to be a long day, but somehow, he knew it would be good. Perhaps it was because he now had something to feel excited about. He had his next meeting with Miss Geller to look forward to.

Okay so there are just a few things I want to clear up at the end of this chapter.

Firstly, for those of you who don't know (because I definitely didn't before writing this chapter), a scullery was a room at the back of the house used for washing dishes and other dirty household items, like clothing.

Secondly, a little fun fact - The Red Lion is an actual pub chain in the Britain, and originates from the time of James I and VI of Scotland who came to the throne in 1603.

Lastly, I hope you liked the way I have included Rachel into this story. I've always thought their friendship was criminally underrated on the show, and so I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to expand on it in this fic. But please don't think that there will be any Randler. As stated in the chapter, it is a brotherly/sisterly relationship. This fanfic will be strictly Mondler :)