A/N: So… remember me? Yeah, I'm still kicking around. Clearly, I haven't been updating every week as I'd hoped, but I felt way too guilty doing anything other than studying. Thanks to everyone who wished me luck – my exams finished on Friday, so I'm back now, if you'll have me! Please drop me a review to let me know whether you're still interested in this story.

A little recap since it's been so long: Kathy cheated on Chandler, and Monica met him drowning his sorrows in a bar. She offered to sleep with him for money, and ended up cooking for him as well. The next morning, Monica refused to engage in an ongoing arrangement with Chandler, so he left – however! Chandler ran into his friend Joey in Central Perk, whom announced he was moving to Greenwich Village to star in an off-Broadway play, and asked Chandler if he wanted to move in with him since he couldn't live with Kathy any more. Chandler and went to visit the place which – shock! – turned out to be opposite Monica's apartment. Chandler went to let Monica know, they had a brief argument about it, but Monica relented when Chandler told her he had nowhere else to go. He then ran off when Monica broke the news that she had another client visiting her that night. And we're now back to Monica's POV!

Disclaimer: I don't own Friends.

I lay my phone down on the table, feeling a smile spread over my face.

A cancellation.

I was supposed to have a client round tonight – some anonymous guy who 'found' my number and contacted me out of the blue – but he just phoned up to say it won't be necessary. Usually, cancellations piss me off, especially when they come late – they often mean a night of no work, and so no payment – but tonight, I feel strangely glad; besides, I know I have enough money to take the night off every now and then if I so wish.

I inadvertently begin grinning from ear to ear as I picture the evening ahead of me, all to myself – even the thought of Chandler moving in across the hall can't bring me down. In all honesty, he had been a special case. Despite what I told him, I don't usually pick up guys from bars and offer them sex for money. Most of my work nowadays comes from men who contact me intentionally. It's a bit of a backstreet business.

Something about Chandler had just compelled me to revert to my rookie ways.

I decide to clean up a bit around the apartment so I can truly relax and enjoy myself for the rest of the night. As I take the trash out, the man occupying my thoughts reappears, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"I… I-Monica…" he stutters, and I fight the urge to sigh, not wanting his clearly opposite mood to ruin my good one.

"Look, Chandler," I start, cutting straight to the point. "You and I are going to be living across from other, correct?"

It's pretty cute how taken aback he is by my frankness, and I berate myself for the inappropriateness of my thoughts as I await his confirmation.

"You've heard that too? I thought that was just a rumour," he jokes, and I smile in relief.

"I have a pretty reliable source," I respond, and he simply grins, his eyes sparkling, instead of choosing to reply. A moment later, I speak up again.

"What I'm saying is…" I continue, fighting off a blush as his smile remains, "you and I are going to be neighbours. All this… you know, awkwardness, between us – it isn't healthy," he nods in agreement, "and it's pointless. So, we slept together once, so what?!" I exclaim, perhaps a bit too candidly, and he looks bewildered once more. I make a mental note not to bring up the sex thing again.

"It's no big deal," I shrug, clamouring my brain to think of something that will bring back the light-hearted, funny Chandler from just seconds before. "I just… I'd really like us to be friends. For real. None of that funny business."

"Really?" he checks, and I can't think why anyone wouldn't want to be his friend.

"Yes!" I reassure him softly, and his smile is back. "Chandler, you already know so much about me. We've already had 'that' conversation – you know, about my profession – I mean, obviously, considering we…" don't mention the sex thing, don't mention the sex thing – "you know – you don't know how tough that conversation can be!" I cry, and he gives me an understanding smile. "Anyway, you already accept me for who I am, and what I do, why would I wanna throw that away?"

"And here I was thinking it was because you like my sarcasm," he says, pretending to be offended.

"I mean, of course that's the reason," I respond with a little sarcasm of my own. I actually kind of love his sarcasm.

We share small grins, and I feel like all the uncomfortableness and tension from before has been lost.

"So, what do you say?" I ask.

"Monica Geller, I would love to be your friend," he answers sincerely, meeting my eyes. I swallow down the surge of emotion I suddenly feel at his admission.

"So, uh… didn't you have a client tonight?" he treads carefully, but the nervousness from earlier is gone.

"Oh, I – I did, but he cancelled on me," I state apathetically.

"Oh, I'm sorry. He's crazy."

I choose not to overanalyse Chandler's response.

"It's fine. Anyway, I'd rather be here with… my friend," I giggle, giving him a light punch on the shoulder, knowing I need to be more careful if I want to prevent him from getting the wrong idea again.

"And, speaking of friendship," I proceed without gauging his reaction, "how about you and I grab a bite to eat or something?" That's what friends do, right? Oh God, I hope he doesn't think I'm asking him out.

"Sure, I'm starving," he says casually. See, he knows it's not a date! He doesn't even like you like that, he never did – he just wanted to forget his ex.

"Let's get going then, buddy," I say, and he laughs out loud, but chooses not to comment.

We get a taxi to a little burger joint, me having consciously wanted to go somewhere as non-classy as possible, and pay separately for our orders before settling down in a booth.

"So, how do you know Joey?" I ask lightly.

"Uh, it's a funny story, actually," he smirks, and I gesture for him to elaborate.

"We met in the Doctor's waiting room a couple of months ago. He, uh… he approached me and asked if I would be his identical twin in a twin study."

I nearly spit out my drink.

"What? How…?" I say eloquently, a little lost for words.

"Yeah, that's Joey for you. The study was for two thousand dollars and he really needed the money. Working actor and all that."

"So, what did you say?" I manage in between attempts to supress my laughter.

"I said, 'sure'," he says coolly, as if it was the perfectly natural thing to do. I raise my eyebrows as if to say, 'and?'

"And, it didn't work, obviously," I laugh, not sure what I had been expecting him to say. "Joey was pretty crushed – thought he had this genius masterplan going on. We got to talking, and I realised just how broke he was, so I offered loan him some money. We've been friends ever since – he often comes to see me in Central Perk, which is how he found out about his apartment I guess."

"You just offered to lend money to a total stranger? A stranger who thought hiring a random guy to be his identical twin in a medical experiment would actually fool anyone?" I interrogate him, suspicious.

Chandler shrugs, making me scoff.

"How did you even know he would pay the money back?"

"Well… he hasn't, really, not yet."

My jaw drops, appalled at what I'm hearing.

"Chandler! And you call this guy a friend?!"

"I mean, he would argue that he's paid his debts in other ways."

I suddenly feel the heat rise in my cheeks at the implication, not quite sure how to respond to that.

"Oh, get your mind out the gutter," he commands after a few seconds in which his alarmed expression mirrors mine.

"Not like that! Mon, I had a girlfriend! Although you'd be in no position to judge." Said by anyone else under different circumstances, it might have sounded spiteful, but he delivers it with a wink and I know he's just teasing.

"He kindly offered me some 'expert advice to pick up women' to tide me over until he actually pays me back," he says, "I told him that I was seeing Kathy, but he didn't appear to understand the significance."

"Well, now's your chance to put it to the test," I suggest, a little flirtatiously, knowing that I'm approaching dangerous territory but unable to stop myself. I'm annoyed when our burgers arrive, interrupting our conversation.

The waitress is a pretty young woman who practically slams my food on the table, before carefully laying Chandler's before him, flashing him a smile in the process. I roll my eyes.

"Enjoy your meal, sir," she says seductively, slowly slipping him a napkin, before flipping her long blonde hair and strutting away, and then making sure to twirl around and face him one last time.

Chandler looks flustered – I'm surprised to realise that he probably hadn't been overexaggerating when he spoke of the lack of female attention he attracts – and meets my annoyed eyes, on the brink of laughter himself.

"Give me that," I snap, snatching the napkin away from him and unfolding it to reveal a phone number.

"Do you think I should go for it?" he quips, and I think he's joking before I realise there's no good reason why he would be. She's young, pretty, clearly interested – why on earth wouldn't he be up for it?

"Who the hell does she think she is?" I fire back, ignoring his prior question. "We could get her fired for that! It's unprofessional."

"Woah, Monica, chill out – nobody's getting fired," he retorts, confused at my upset at the situation almost as much as I am.

"Why not? As far as she knows, you and I could be on a date!"

"But we're not!" Chandler declares, exasperated, "so what's the problem?"

"I'm sorry," I say quietly, humiliated about my outburst. "You should go out with her."

"I'm not gonna do that," he says, and I capture his soft gaze with mine. "You're right, we could've been on a date, or hell, we could've been married, but she didn't care… She disrespected you and… I don't like people who disrespect my friends," he finishes, looking away from me, a little embarrassed.

"Thanks, Chandler," I say gently, and we eat our burgers in a comfortable silence.

Ten minutes later, we begin to make a move to leave, and we're hit by the warmth of the late May evening in New York as we exit the diner.

"Can we save a few bucks and walk back?" Chandler requests, and I nod.

It's a half hour walk, and we spend it talking about everything and nothing, keeping the conversation light-hearted, while pointedly ensuring enough distance is between us.

Once we reach our apartments, it's gone ten pm, and my heart speeds up as I remember what we were doing exactly twenty-four hours before now. I glance over at Chandler, meeting his eyes, his pupils dilated, and wonder if he's having the same thoughts as me.

"Do you want to come in?" I ask recklessly, caught up in a breathless trance. His eyes widen in shock, my words contrary to our earlier conversation that day, but he's more than eager to comply.

I unlock the door, my hands shaking, hoping that he won't notice. Once we're inside, I freeze, facing away from him, not having thought this far ahead.

"Monica?" he prompts, and I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing he can't stay and yet so badly not wanting him to leave.

I hear footsteps shuffling behind me.

"Mon, are you okay?"

Suddenly his hand is touching the small of my back, in what I'm sure is intended as a gesture of platonic comfort, but instead it sets me on fire. I spin round to face him, but it's all too fast, and I find the proximity between us to be too close and yet not close enough. It's agonising.

He's not the stunned, flustered mess I imagined he'd be; instead, he's calm and collected, totally in control of the situation, as if our tight vicinity has awoken something within him. His hands have now made their way to my waist, and he's looking at me with a kind of intensity unparalleled by that of any other lover.

"Chandler…" I whisper, "we can't."

He backs away from me, and I don't know whether to be relieved, or a little disappointed that he didn't even try to convince me otherwise. When it becomes apparent that he hasn't given up, my breath catches in my throat, knowing that there's no way I'll have the strength to put an end to this now.

"Maybe we can," he states simply, and he takes the lack of immediate protest on my behalf as a signal to keep talking.

"Look, Mon, it's obvious that there's an… attraction between us," he begins. It would be ridiculous at this point to even try to disagree.

"And it's like you said earlier, you know, it's just sex. No feelings. It's no big deal," he continues confidently, until his voice wavers at the end. "The way I see it, it's a win-win situation. I get to have sex with a beautiful woman who makes my ex look like chopped liver, and you get a regular paying customer who actually respects you and values you as a friend. Honestly, I think this kind of arrangement could be big all over America," he concludes jokingly, and I have to commend his logic. He does make the whole thing sound very… appealing.

"So, uh, how would this work?" I ask, curious.

"Well, we wouldn't have to be exclusive, obviously," he says with an awkward chuckle. "I mean, you can still have other clients…"

"I probably wouldn't need to," I cut in truthfully, "if you were paying the kind of amounts you did last night. And then that eliminates the whole hygiene concern, too. You could… still see other people, so long as you… keep me informed."

He nods seriously, and I swallow, the reality of what we're considering here sinking in.

"Are we really gonna do this?" he asks for reaffirmation, and I feel my body being pulled towards his.

"I think we really are," I say with a small smile, which he then mirrors. My eyes drop to his lips, God, only a few more seconds until I'll be able to…

No.

That would be too risky.

I clear my throat, needing to remain professional for a bit longer.

"The same terms will have to apply," I assert, and I think I see a flash of disappointment in his eyes. "I'll write up the full long-term contract tomorrow, but for tonight, you can just sign one of the regular ones… that's, if you want to do this tonight," I check, hoping he's in the same place I am.

"Tonight would… be good," he says, his voice hushed in anticipation.

I lead him into the office once again, handing him a contract, before asking him to excuse me while I freshen up.

I apply some fragrance, touch up on my makeup, brush my teeth even though there won't be any kissing. I carefully select my favourite lingerie – red lace – and slip on a silk robe before meeting Chandler outside my bedroom. I push the papers he's returned to me to one side, before leading him in with me.

He stops me just short of the bed, placing a hand on my shoulder, and I turn around to face him. His eyes never leaving mine, he gently pulls the sleeve off my shoulder before touching the skin underneath, and the contact burns my flesh. He reaches down to the tie on my robe, making it go loose, letting it fall to the floor.

His eyes drop to my body, drinking in the view, and I decide to turn the attention onto him before it gets too much.

I unbutton his shirt rapidly, pushing it off his shoulders, and begin kissing my way down his body. I remove his pants, before taking him in my mouth, wanting to return the favour from the other night, and soon enjoying the response it elicits in him. Just when I think he's about to climax, he motions for me to stop, and I comply, confused.

"What's wrong?" I ask anxiously, suddenly self-conscious about my abilities. "Don't you like that?"

"Oh, trust me, I do," he reassures me, still panting slightly, "I just… it's wasted if it doesn't involve you."

I don't get the chance to reply as suddenly he's kissing my neck, his soft lips perfectly massaging the sweet spot below my ear, making me hum contentedly.

He lays me down on my back, my head hitting the soft pillows with a slight thump. His fingers go to the clasp of my bra, and he peels the garment off my skin, before his lips latch on to my nipple.

He worships every inch of my skin with his mouth as I feel heat rising within me, not sure how much longer I can take it, before he finally enters me and I feel myself come undone.

We fall asleep alone.

The next morning, we wake up together, our bodies intertwined.

A/N: I hope that was okay! It's been so long so I feel like I'm still a bit rusty. Again, the clichés are strong with this one. Please, please, please leave me a review letting me know what you think! Thank you everyone for your continued support so far. There's still quite a way to go with this one, but I have a pretty strong sense of where each chapter is headed, and updates should be a lot more regular now I'm completely exam free, plus hopefully teachers should be going easy on us for the last half term of the year. I'm hoping to get it done by summer holidays so I can work on something new, but that might be a little ambitious. I have a new idea for a story, but I'm not sure about it yet, and I definitely don't want to be handling two stories at once! Follow my tumblr if you want, it's 'ninetiesmondler' (don't ask me why I have 'nineties' in everything) and I post absolutely no original content! Anyway, sorry for the ramble, thank you for reading as always! And sending my love to my fellow Brits following this particularly difficult week, especially if any of you are from Manchester.