A/N: MatTeneyMoNdlerLoVer, Ghee Buttersnaps15, Monica, Shyfighter, RandomNews3, Emily J, ScandalousScavos, regina-phalange29, dancer cherrybug, viciousboar, Wicked-Little-Heart, Stephy-Lou Clark-Weasley, matteney, and Amelia Lauren - Thank you for all those wonderful, wonderful reviews! :)

I'm sorry, I guess I should have mentioned this in the previous chapter - In the last chapter, I was drawing a huge parallel to the season 2 episode -'TOW Five Steaks and an Eggplant', where Monica gets fired for the same reason. No, she wasn't framed for something that she didn't do. She just didn't know what she considered to be a "gift" was actually a kickback according to her restaurant's policy.

Here's Chapter 9, just as promised :)

If It's Love

Chapter 9

Four days later, Monica had returned to her usual self.

Phoebe had told a massage client of hers, who was looking for a head-chef for his restaurant, about Monica, and she was scheduled to meet with him for a 'trial lunch' on Monday. It's kind of like an audition, and I really, really want it to go well, Monica had told Chandler the previous night. Now they all were in Monica's living room, except for Monica, who was in the kitchen.

The guys intently watched Phoebe's head bob up and down as she sat half-asleep on the couch. She suddenly snapped out of it, scaring them all in an instant. "Sorry, sorry," she apologized quietly for freaking them out.

"Pheebs, why are you so tired?" Ross asked curiously.

"I didn't get any sleep last night," she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"Ooh..." Joey nodded appreciatively. "Did it finally happen with James?"

"No," she shook her head. "I walked in on my grandmother and her boyfriend having sex."

The three men made a look of disgust. "That must not have been a pleasant sight," Ross looked at her sympathetically.

"It was like watching that scene from 'Don't Look Now', only imagine Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie being much older and much louder."

Chandler frowned, shaking his head. "Something tells me that that's not a mental image I'd enjoy very much."

"And now you know why I didn't get any sleep last night," Phoebe retorted before closing her eyes again.

"Chandler?" Monica called out for him from the kitchen. "Could you come here for a second?"

"Yeah," he got off his seat and went to her.

She glanced at the other three to make sure they weren't paying attention to their conversation before she turned to him. "I'm going away to my parents' beach house this weekend."

"Oh," he sighed, disappointed. "Okay..." He had been waiting for the perfect moment to tell her how he felt, but that moment seemed to constantly elude him. Maybe it was his own fear that kept him from telling her, but the fear of letting her go without ever telling her that he loved her — that was too hard to bear any longer.

He wanted to tell her before it was too late.

"Yeah, they apparently feel sorry for me since I lost my job. Maybe Ross spoke to them, I don't know," she shrugged. "But they've given me the keys to the beach house so that I can stay there this weekend," she glanced again at the living room before she continued. "I was wondering, can you come with me?" she asked him, smiling at him uncertainly. "I really don't want to be alone." Moving closer to him, she touched his cheek tentatively. "I- I don't..." she fumbled with her words, her cheeks turning pink. "I don't want to be away from you."

I don't want to be away from you.

He played her words back in his head, feeling his pulse quicken. "Yeah, I think I can do that," he smiled back slowly, feeling a glimmer of hope inside of him. "I don't want to be away from you, either."

She grinned, relieved. "You could just tell the others that you have a conference or something."

"Conference or something," he nodded in agreement, linking his fingers with hers briefly. Two days away from everyone, alone together. It was perfect.

He had finally figured out when and where he would tell her that he loved her. He just needed to know how.

~.~

The cab had dropped them off at the main road. She entwined her hand with his as they walked toward the beach house, both of them watching the bright orange sun descend into the sea.

"God, it's so beautiful out here," he murmured, stopping in his tracks as he hitched their only bag over his shoulder more firmly.

"I know," she nodded. "You should see the sunrise. It's breathtaking." She rested her head on his shoulder as they stood there for a few seconds. "Hey, maybe we can come out here early tomorrow morning," she smiled at him.

"Yeah," he replied distractedly. "Maybe."

"You all right?"

"Yes, yes," he nodded, turning to look at her, smiling. "Why wouldn't I be?" he pressed his lips against the side of her head.

"Let's go," she tugged his hand, and they started walking again.

The beach house looked beautiful and new. With several pots of flowers everywhere outside, the house was a shiny, immaculate vision in white.

"Wow, your parents really went all out on this one." He entered the house, taking in the glass doors and chrome decor, in awe. "I didn't know you Gellers were this loaded!" he exclaimed, dropping the bag to the floor, plonking himself on the incredibly comfortable couch.

"They used my wedding fund on this house, Chandler," she said, her lips curving into a humorless smile.

"Really?" he asked, shocked.

She nodded. "Ross told me."

"No wonder you hate your parents," he commented, pulling her to him.

"I don't hate them," she shook her head. "I just- I... Ah!" she threw her hands up in the air, giving up. "Anyway, who cares about them now? This is my 'happy' weekend." She looped her arms around his neck. "This is our weekend."

"It sure is," he pecked her lips. "Hey, what are we going to do for food?"

"Why? Are you hungry?"

"No, no, I was just wondering," he shrugged.

"My parents were here just a few days back," she stood up and went to the fridge. "My mom said it's well-stocked with food," she opened the fridge and took a look inside, nodding. "Yep, there's food," she grinned at him.

"That's good to know." He patted the seat next to him, "Come here."

She went to him obediently and sat next to him on her knees on the couch. "So, what does Mr. Bing have in mind?" she asked coyly, tracing his jawline with her lips.

"Nothing," he shrugged. "Why, did you have anything in mind?"

"Well," she pulled away from him, leaning her back against the armrest of the couch. "We have a rug. We have lots of blankets." She cocked an eyebrow. "And we have a balcony..."

"Are you trying to tell me something here?" he grinned at her widely.

"It might be romantic under the stars," she shrugged. "But, hey, if you're not up to it, we can always-"

He stood up abruptly. "Tell me where the blankets are."

~.~

"You were right," she sighed breathlessly, pulling herself closer to him and resting her chin on his shoulder. "It is romantic under the moonlight." Their clothes were strewn around them on the floor. The February air was cool, but they were still sweating from their recent exertion. "Hey," she nudged him when he didn't respond. "Where are you?"

"I'm here. Right here." He pressed his lips to her forehead and pulled back slowly. He pointed at the sky. "And the stars. Under the moonlight and the stars. See that constellation, right there? That's Gemini."

She glanced at the sky and looked back at him skeptically. "Really?"

"Yes," he nodded. "And that one is Orion."

"Really?"

He looked at the unconcealed dubiousness on her face and chuckled, shaking his head. "Not really. In fact, I have no idea," he shrugged.

"Sweetie," she propped herself on her elbow, smiling. "I really think you should stick to data processing and leave the astronomy to people who actually know astronomy."

"You know what my job is?" he asked, surprised.

"Statistical analysis and data reconfiguration," she replied proudly.

"Wow," he shook his head, still looking surprised. "I don't think even my mother knows that."

"Well," she kissed his lips softly. "Don't look so surprised. I know it 'cause I kinda like you a lot," she murmured, smiling.

His heart began to hammer in his chest. He took her hand and pressed her palm against the uneven thump thump thump of his heart. He turned his head again to look at the sky, keeping his eyes on the one bright star at the zenith, focusing on it like it was his source of courage.

"What?" she nudged her nose against his cheek, her breath warm on his suddenly cold skin.

"I'm in love with you," he said quietly.

He had imagined this moment a million times in the past few months, but no amount of imagining had prepared him for this. Her hand turned limp over his pounding heart. The sound of the sea waves crashing on the shore filled the silence.

"What...?" she whispered back several seconds later, her voice just as quiet as his.

He turned to look into her eyes, pressing her hand harder against his chest. "I am," he nodded. "I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for a long time now."

"Chandler," she shook her head, pulling her hand away. "Don't do this."

His heart sank at her words, but he hardened his resolve and forced himself to continue. He can make her see it. He will make her see it. "I have to do this, Monica. You can't tell me how to feel," he shook his head, his voice rising just enough octaves to pierce through the air. "I cannot hide this anymore, I can no longer pretend that this," he motioned between them, "is just a fling."

She sat up, holding the sheets close to her chest. She touched his cheek gently, shaking her head. "I love you, too, Chandler. You know that. But being 'in love' right now is not something I can-"

He sat up as he cut her off, taking her hand in his, moving closer to her, his voice tinged with desperation. "You know me. You know how I mess everything up," he leaned his forehead against hers. "But this is something I don't want to mess up, Mon. I don't want to lose this."

She closed her eyes, breathing in slowly. "Chandler..."

"I love you," he murmured again, kissing her closed eyelids. "And it's not because we're sleeping together," he shook his head. "I have never felt anything more in my life."

She remained quiet, tears from her tightly shut eyes starting to roll down her cheeks.

"Do you know that feeling?" he asked her softly, his own tears stinging his eyes. "That feeling where you just know you'd take a bullet for that one person?" His thumb rose to wipe her tears away. "You're that one person for me, Monica."

She cried silently, not having the strength to face him. She was breaking his heart, she knew she was breaking his heart. But it was better that it be broken now than later when it'd be irreparable.

"Say something," he pressed his lips against her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears. "Anything," he pleaded.

"I don't know what you want me to say," she whispered finally.

"Tell me that you're in love with me, too," he implored. "Tell me that the strongest feeling I've ever felt," his voice hitched, "tell me that you feel it too."

"I'm twenty-four, Chandler," she said, opening her eyes.

"What has age got to do with anything?" he countered.

"I already lost my job this week." She swallowed a sob of panic and shook her head. "I cannot lose you too."

"That's it?" he spat, feeling his temper rise. "You lost your job, and you cannot lose me, too? It was just a fucking job, Monica. You can find another one and you will." His breathing came harder, faster, his eyes blazing. "But this is us. This is my life, our life. Don't trivialize my feelings for you."

"I'm not trivializing anything!" she pulled her hand from his again, her tone matching his. "Yes, I know I can find another job," she nodded. "But why are you missing the point?" she brushed away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. "How many happily-ever-afters do you see couples our age having? Aren't you terrified of what will happen if we do this and it doesn't work out? Because I am!" She was hyperventilating even as she tried hard to control her breathing. "I cannot lose you. I cannot find another you."

He sighed. "But how would you lose me?" his voice softened. "I know there are no guarantees in life, Monica, but I can make you one right now." With a finger under her chin, he tilted her face up. "I'm your Chandler," he whispered, his words sounding so simple, so true. "You will always have me."

He had said that to her in the rain. She remembered him murmuring 'I'll always be there for you' into her hair.

Always. She had been right. It was a promise.

She looked away from him, the tears in her eyes blurring her vision as she gazed at the sea. "This is not something I'm willing to risk right now," she shook her head again. "I cannot afford to lose you, Chandler."

"You are not going to lose me, Monica," he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Why- why are you so fixated with-"

"Just look at what happened between me and Kip!" she raised her tone, her eyes meeting his again. "But that was just Kip. I don't mind him not being in my life. I didn't think about him once until you mentioned his name that day. I don't mind losing him at all, Chandler. But you," her voice turned husky. "You, I cannot live without," she whispered. She leaned in and pressed her lips against his, his lips cold and unmoving. She pulled back, gazing into his eyes again. "I'd rather die than live a life without you."

He smiled wryly, not bothering to wipe his tears away. "If that's not love, then what is?" he asked her gently. He thought he could smell the salt of the sea. Maybe it was his own tears, he didn't know. One small glimmer of hope remained in his heart.

I know she feels the same way about you. I can see it from the way she looks at you.

He hoped Joey hadn't lied.

She shook her head finally, her throat burning. "Love is too big a word for me now," she murmured, meeting his eyes again.

"It hurts, Monica. It hurts here," he touched his head. "It hurts here," he thumped his chest with his fist.

"But we swore it would never turn into anything more..." she said feebly. She watched as the hope in his deep blue eyes slowly fall apart and felt her own heart crumble along with his hope.

She thought she was saving them both from an inevitable heartbreak, but something was now telling her that nothing could ever hurt more than this.

"If that's your answer," he shook his head, wiping his tears away finally. "I cannot do this anymore." He stood up abruptly, gathering his clothes, pulling them on.

She looked as he kept brushing his tears away, and she felt it at that moment — a searing ache in her heart, like a shard of glass had pierced it.

He opened the balcony door and turned back to look at her one last time. "What happened to love, Mon?" he whispered into the cold night air before he closed the door behind him and walked away from her.

And that was when she broke down completely.

~.~.~