Monica was in the kitchen freshening up another platter of finger food for her New Year's Eve party when a few words out of Dick Clarke's nonstop patter on TV got through to her.

"…. so you'd better make sure now you've got someone lined up to kiss at midnight …"

Monica froze in mid movement, her fingers clenching on a pick that she'd been about to stick into a piece of cheese as if she wanted to nail down the echo of those words in her brain instead before it could fade again.

Kiss someone at midnight …?

And like out of nowhere it came back to her, as if the dormant seeds of a memory were suddenly sprouting in her brain, so sudden and unexpected it made her breath hitch. The memory of the pact she'd made with Chandler on the balcony on last New Year's Eve, that promise that if they were both single at this time at the next New Year's Eve they would kiss at midnight.

The balcony pact. How on earth could she have forgotten about it until now?

It fairly made her reel with excitement and apprehension. And relief. She had no idea if it would work, if he would remember too, and if yes, how he would feel about it, but she knew right away she had to try. That it was so worth a try. If there was a teeny tiny chance for them to finally put things right between them she had to take it. If only to make a final effort to banish this poisonous secret that hung between them like a piece of slowly rotting leftover meat ever since that fateful one night stand in London and that still threatened to spoil and destroy their friendship they both still held so dear.

She still couldn't understand how it all could have gone so wrong. If only they would have pulled themselves together enough to talk it over after that night, calmly and sensibly like two mature adults instead of rushing around in a horny panic to find somewhere to do it again before they had to leave for the airport and return to New York. Once they'd boarded the plane it had been too late. Against all odds one of the passengers on their flight had failed to arrive on time and Rachel, still fuming and frustrated after seeing Ross reunited with Emily at the airport, had snatched his seat at the last minute and thus come back home with them instead of later, all the while obsessing over Ross non-stop and nearly talking Monica's head off with it during the flight too. And after they'd made it back home and gone on with their lives and their jobs they never seemed to get a chance to be alone again. Almost as if they were doomed to stay forever apart, practically every attempt to snatch a few minutes to talk and get things into perspective inevitably foiled. And the few times they did manage to get a few minutes alone together they invariably found themselves tongue-tied and awkward, uncertain how to even begin to address the dreadful tension between them, the unresolved issue, with the secret always weighing too heavy on them, seeming to grow even weightier and darker as time passed instead of the other way round. By all rights they should have been able to put it behind them and forget about it, write it off as one crazy night in a foreign romantic country with too much frustration and whisky and let it go. To continue with their lives as before, as if nothing had happened, even go on dates – but somehow for some reason they couldn't. Not for lack of trying – she had gone out with Rachel on double dates and Chandler had had another date with that girl from the sleep clinic, but their hearts had simply not been in it. Or at least hers hadn't been. She wasn't completely sure about Chandler, but all the evidence seemed to show that he wasn't in a better place than she was. As if that one night in London had forever spoiled them for anyone else.

It drove her crazy. She often wondered, if they'd had the chance to continue their affair, how they would have managed to keep it secret from the others and for how long. Considering how their friends kept interrupting everything, constantly attaching themselves and involving them in their problems and crises it seemed near impossible. There had been Ross' and Emily's endless fights and eventual breakup after their return from their honeymoon (during which they had also kept fighting as Monica learned later), Phoebe giving birth to the triplets, Joey's kidney stones, Rachel's endless attempts to get over Ross and find a date, Ross having to move in with Chandler and Joey after Emily threw him out – she just couldn't see how they would have managed not to be found out, their secret revealed, with all the inevitable consequences. The mere thought even made her shudder. Everyone would have been so mad at them, accusing them of breaking the Rule and thereby destroying the group. Ross especially would not have been able to control his rage over his sister and his best friend going behind his back. Their affair – she didn't think it would have been more than that – would never have been able to stand the strain, even if by the most improbable luck they would not have been found out until now. If nothing else, the feeling of guilt over betraying their best friends would have caught up with them both before long.

Also if by some stroke of luck they would have succeeded to keep it secret, she suspected that Chandler's commitment phobias and insecurities would have led to issues and fights before long, even if her obsessive competitiveness and anal retentiveness hadn't gotten them there first. She also would always have been the dominant partner in their relationship and she was fairly sure that this wasn't what she really wanted, or rather needed. She had always longed for a partner she could lean on, who made her feel safe and cherished, someone wise and mature she could look up to, who swept her off her feet and cuddled her. You only needed to look at all her relationships to see that it was true. Although of course, all those relationships had failed, for one reason or another. Though Chandler was a great friend (and lover, she had to admit – more than great in fact) she just couldn't see him in that role. Maybe he could get there, after a lot of training and tutoring, but if there was one thing she was very sure of it was that she didn't want to be his relationship tutor.

Sometimes she even wished that that one night stand had never happened at all. True, it had been so wonderful and amazing, the perfect solution to all her accumulated frustration and bitterness, and she often caught herself reminiscing about it, especially at night. But if it had never happened, if she somehow would have found the strength in herself to remain in her room, it would have saved them from all this anguish and conflict.

Except lately she had started to change her mind. Especially since the last Thanksgiving, when Chandler had been so horrified at the recounting of that stupid incident ten years ago that had cost him part of a toe, and learning the truth about what had led to it. If nothing else it had made her realize how immature and bound to the past they all were, she herself included. It was high time she changed that, broadened her horizons, allowed new ways of thinking in. And that she was doing Chandler just as big a disservice now just as she had done ten years ago. He really deserved a lot more credit. And trust, that above all. She did realize that now.

And now - maybe now the time had finally come to resolve their problem, even put it behind them and lay it to rest? With a kiss at midnight of all things? It did occur to Monica almost right away that this probably – almost certainly – would look strange to everyone else, but immediately following that thought came the realization that it no longer mattered to her if it did. She was past caring now. The only thing that mattered was talking to Chandler, thereby resolving that issue and dispel that ghost of the Night of Seven Times that haunted them both so badly. And redeeming that kiss.

Armed with her new resolve she took up the platter and craned her head to look around her living-room where her friends and other party guests were standing around chattering and enjoying their snacks and drinks. On the TV everyone already seemed to get ready for the countdown, showing scenes from the packed Time Square where the ball would drop shortly. High time to get hold of Chandler then, if it wasn't already too late. Ten minutes, she only had ten minutes to find him, explain matters and get him on the balcony. Could it even be done?

Of course it could. She would see to it.

But when she walked over to the couch where she had last seen him in a contest with Joey about who could keep their party squawker up longer, he was no longer there, and her heart grew heavy with foreboding. What if he had left already, tired of watching the New Year's festivities without being able to take part? What if he had forgotten about their pact? What if he remembered, but no longer wanted to kiss her?

Oh god, what if he had found someone else at the last minute?

When Joey blew his squawker right into her ear she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Argh, JOEY!"

"Hey, what's the matter? Come on, here we go! 1999, the year of Joey!"

Monica clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms with the effort of keeping control. Her anxiety almost made her unable to speak.

"Have – have you seen Chandler?"

"Chandler? But he's here- oh. Oh, he's gone. But he was here just now!"

"I know!" Monica gritted her teeth, looking around her again. There was Phoebe, chatting with some guests, and Ross strolling over, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the new snacks she'd just put on the table, Rachel standing near the bathroom door, looking rather impatient … but no Chandler.

Maybe she should check across the hall? But even as she turned around to head for the door, another, more obvious solution occurred to her.

Maybe he was already on the balcony, waiting for her?

She tried to curb herself in, but walking towards the side window that gave to the balcony in a dignified manner seemed impossible now, and no one seemed to pay her any attention anyway. When she passed by Rachel, her roommate rapped sharply on the door and stamped her feet.

"Ugh, get a move on in there! Monica, do you have another key? I need to go before the ball drops!"

"Sorry, Rachel. Why don't you go across the hall?" But Rachel winced.

"Eww! I can't go there! Besides, Joey put the birds in the tub."

She turned back to the door and Monica hurried towards the window, her breath hitching when she saw someone standing on the balcony. But no, not just one, there were two. Two people, standing close to the window, and as soon as they saw here, were beckoning to her, gesturing for her to open the window, which someone apparently had closed so they couldn't open it again from outside. When she wrenched it open, the two guests immediately climbed in, shuddering from the cold and giggling.

"Thanks, Monica, oh god, have we missed it? No, still some minutes to go …"

She put her head through the window to check, but already knew in her heart that Chandler wasn't on the balcony and closed her eyes in frustration. So close, she had been so close!

But it was no use. She had lost him again. It was too late.

"Dammit, Chandler, open up! Now!" Rachel was hammering on the door again and Monica's jaw dropped. Did she … had she just …

And then the door of her bathroom opened and Chandler came out, flattening himself against the doorjamb and rolling his eyes as Rachel immediately stormed past him and threw the door shut in his face with a vengeance. Monica almost swooned with relief, but sharply pulled herself together.

"Chandler!" she hated how desperate it sounded, but couldn't help it. It made Chandler fairly jump and when he turned to her he looked almost guilty.

"I – I was looking for you –"

"Really?" He looked back at the door. "How long was I in there?"

By now the urgency she felt made her pant so hard she almost couldn't speak.

"You – we – need to talk – now!" She even grabbed at his sleeve and tried to pull him towards the balcony in her haste.

"What is it? Did someone use the fancy guest towels? It wasn't me, I swear!"

"Never mind the towels." (Although just the mention of them made her wince.) "I need to talk to you, outside, on the balcony. Please?"

Chandler stared at her for a moment and then pulled himself together.

"The balcony? Now? Okay, okay, I'm coming … don't you want a jacket?"

Monica was already clawing at the window. When it opened a rush of cold air met her, but she ignored it and clambered out, fiercely glad that she had opted for pants when she had gotten dressed for the party. Chandler followed more slowly, hesitating before drawing the window shut and inadvertently drawing his shoulders in against the cold and she realized that he was only wearing one of his characteristic vests over his thin blue sweater. Oh god, please don't let him catch cold … She put out a hand to draw him closer to the rail where they wouldn't be seen that easily from the living-room.

"Chandler … I … We …"

"Are you okay?" he looked at her, frowning slightly, and Monica forced herself to take a deep breath. And another. It did help. A little. Also that she was now holding both of his hands, and, she hoped, all his attention too.

"Um, this may sound crazy, but - do you remember last year? I mean New Year's Eve, one year ago?"

When he just looked blank it almost made her scream with frustration. Then slowly, so slowly his expression changed.

"What about it?" he asked, oh so carefully.

"Um, we … we made a pact …" she stuttered.

For a seemingly endless moment he met her gaze silently, then suddenly the smile appeared on his face, that wonderful wide warm smile she had almost forgotten how much she loved.

"So we did. If we're both single …"

She wanted to sing with joy. "We'll kiss at midnight!"

"We will?!" Chandler looked almost comically surprised. "Do you still want to?"

"Do I -? Of course I do!" Then sudden doubt made her throat constrict. "Don't you?"

"Do you want me to? Ouch!" Only then did she realize that she was clutching his hand in a death-grip and loosened her fingers, but without letting him go completely.

"Who wouldn't want you?" she asked in return, stepping closer to him. Chandler grimaced.

"Oh please, I'm a single dad, with a thirty-year old Joey!"

"Chandler!" As she cuffed him she couldn't help laughing helplessly, almost hysterically. When his grip tightened on her arms she suddenly realized that the countdown had started and her breath caught. Oh god, how long – but no, they were still at fifty-two.

Fifty-one. Fifty. Forty-nine.

"Chandler, I – I'm so, so sorry we never –"

"- got to do it one more time?"

"No … Yes. Yes, that too. That we never got together again. After London." And that it ended so badly she added silently. Chandler seemed slightly embarrassed now.

"Aw. I'm sorry about that too. It made that one night more special, but … I really wanted to do it again." He smiled again and squeezed her hand. "Not just because it was so great – that too, it really was – but … because you're hot!" As he blurted it out, Monica felt her breath hitch.

"Is that okay?" he asked almost anxiously and she could only nod her head. Faintly, through the living-room window, the countdown continued.

"Thirty-three! Thirty-two! Thirty-one!"

"You're hot too …" she said hoarsely. "Yes, you are. I wish we had done it again. And again. And again. I wish we had come together again here and that we were still together now." And as she said it she knew it was true, that she had truly never wanted anyone else.

There was that impish smile again. "But then we couldn't kiss at midnight."

"What? Why-"

"Because then we wouldn't still be single?"

For a moment she could only gape at him, then she laughed out loud.

"You're right! Oh my!" And she drew close to him, digging her fingers into his vest and nestling against him.

"Twenty! Nineteen! Eighteen!"

Chandler looked over his shoulder towards the living-room, supposedly to check whether anybody was watching them, but they all seemed fixated on the TV screen now, chanting along with the countdown.

"What about them?" he asked, jerking his head towards the window. "What if they find out – about us? About London?"

Monica took a deep breath.

"I don't care." And as she said it, she knew it was true. Only this counted. Had counted all that time in fact. Just like that all the doubts and feelings of guilt she'd harbored over those dreary three and a half months since London seemed to have evaporated like mist in the morning sun. Of course Chandler was the one she wanted and needed, deep down she had known that all along. Just like she knew suddenly that they would work. That she would make them work.

Chandler seemed to hesitate just for a moment, long enough for her for a smidgen of doubt to rematerialize about this wholly mad idea, then suddenly a change seemed to come over him, squaring his shoulders and making him appear quite determined, even resolute, as he reached out for her and gently enfolded her in his arms, pulling her close.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!"

"Seven!" they whispered together, laughing delightedly at each other, their heads now very close, with their noses almost touching.

"Six! Five! Four!"

"I'm still on London Time" he said quietly. "Always been, all this time." Monica could only stare at him, her head swimming from the sudden rush of emotion.

"Me too …" she could only mouth it inaudibly, but he must have heard it because his face seemed to light up, his smile nearly splitting his cheeks –

"Three! Two! ONE!"

And she threw herself at him, crushing him to her, like she'd done in London, madly, heedlessly, without thinking, just obeying her sudden impulse, that overwhelming desire. Unlike the time in London he stood fast this time, like a rock in fact, and kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her and holding her so tight her breath almost gave out. And time seemed to freeze around them, ensconcing them in a bubble that none could penetrate, preserving this one magical moment for them, this moment where nothing was real and yet everything was true. Where they could find each other again and again and be together forever and always, just like they were meant to be. And as his lips pressed against hers and his arms tightened around her, one hand over the small of her back and the other cupping the back of her neck, Monica realized with a sudden clarity that whatever had happened and would happen to them, they would always have that one moment, caught and held in that lovely magical bubble in time.

"Happy New Year! Happy New Year!"

Still kissing him she opened her eyes that she had shut inadvertently and saw that he had closed his eyes too. And that there were fireworks suddenly blooming up all around them, lighting up the sky with all the colors of the rainbow and bathing them with their multicolored sparks. She felt his breath cooling something wet on her cheeks – from tears? But no matter. Now his tongue was gently teasing at hers and it made her nipples harden where her breasts were pressing against his chest and it felt so good to hold him to her. How could she have forgotten how great their bodies felt together? How wonderfully weird it had been that kissing him had never felt weird? Never weird and never wrong at all. Instead it had felt right, from the very beginning. How could they have been so stupid to let that wonderful gift go again, just because they couldn't get over that stupid awkwardness and fear of breaking some rule that made no sense anyway, and never had?

When the kiss finally ended he drew back just a little to look at her, still keeping close enough that the tips of their noses almost touched, close enough too to start another kiss as she was well aware.

"Happy New Year, Monica" he said and his voice made her break out in goosebumps all over, because it sounded so unlike his normal speaking voice, raspy and warm and quite serious.

"Happy New Year, Chandler!" she replied, putting all her heart behind the sentiment. Chandler smiled down at her and then touched her cheek lightly with the tip of one finger.

"You're crying …" he said wondrously, but just as she wanted to explain, to reassure him, the window to the balcony behind them was wrenched open and Ross stuck his head out.

"Happy New Year!" he shouted, blowing on his squawker. "Woohoo!" Only then he noticed them and frowned in confusion. "Monica? What are you doing?"

Somehow Chandler had had the presence of mind to push her away a little, but they were still standing quite close together and now she felt one of his hands closing around hers, squeezing her reassuringly. It gave her the strength to smile at her brother brightly.

"What does it look like we're doing? We kissed at midnight!"

Ross' jaw became unhinged just as Joey jostled him from behind to squeeze by him.

"What?"

"Dude!"

"Yeah, it's for good luck! Didn't you kiss someone?"

Ross' face fell immediately. "No … but why did you kiss Chandler?"

"Who would you rather have kiss Monica, me or Joey?" Chandler quipped dryly.

"Hey!" Joey protested, but Ross relaxed immediately. "Ah, good point."

"I want to kiss someone too!" Joey pouted and then looked thoughtfully at Ross who immediately jumped as if stung.

"What? No! Ew!"

"Why don't you ask Rachel?" Monica suggested and Joey's face lit up.

"Right! That's it! Rach? Rach?! Ah, there you are. Listen, we need to kiss!"

"What?"

"Yeah, you see, Monica and Chandler kissed already, and you can't kiss Ross, got the history –"

"Monica kissed Chandler?!"

"Yeah, for good luck. Come on!"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Okay, but only if Phoebe does it too. Pheebs! Hey, Pheebs!"

"Alright, what is it now?"

"You have to kiss Ross!"

Phoebe tittered. "So obvious! Why doesn't he just ask?"

"No, you see, Chandler and Monica kissed already, and he can't kiss Rachel because of the history –"

"Chandler and Monica kissed?!" Phoebe almost screeched and Monica wanted to sink into the floor. By now all the others had climbed outside and Chandler was slowly and unobtrusively inching towards the window, still holding her hand behind his back.

"Yeah, yeah, just for good luck. Now we have to do it too! Come on, hurry!"

"Alright, alright, you don't have to beg you know." And Phoebe smiled at Ross good-naturedly while she removed her gum. Monica couldn't quite believe it, but there they were, all four of them kissing and then cheering and wishing each other Happy New Year all over again. Then Chandler motioned to her to climb through the window and followed her as soon as she was inside. Out on the balcony she caught Joey asking Rachel if it had done anything for her and she couldn't stop giggling. Chandler grinned too and then jerked his head questioningly in the direction of the door and her breath hitched. Could they really sneak out just like that? But no, here was Ross again.

"Mon, where are the fireworks? Are you coming?"

She wanted to scream with frustration, but then Chandler squeezed her hand again and lowered his head towards hers.

"I'll sneak over later" he murmured into her ear and all of a sudden she felt immeasurably relieved. Also expectant and joyously thrilled, and very horny, but above all relieved. It was going to be alright. They would pick up the pieces where they had left off after London and make it right, come together again. For good this time. They had been given another chance, and she made a silent vow to herself that this time they would take it. And the kiss they had just shared would serve as a seal of that promise.

.

.

When Chandler finally came into her room, sidling through the door as silently as a ghost, and shutting it carefully behind him, she woke with a start, surprised at herself that she had fallen asleep after all. After the party had finally ended and she and Rachel had gone to their beds, she had lain awake for some time, consumed with doubt and impatience while debating with herself if she should leave a light on and finally deciding against it. Then she had kept turning around restlessly and then lying still again, listening nervously and chiding herself. She knew that it would probably take hours until Chandler was able to sneak by Ross on the couch unnoticed, but the waiting and longing still drove her crazy.

But now he was here. She listened to him scurry through the dark room towards her bed and swiftly strip off his clothes, at first surprised and then almost alarmed at how silently and unerringly he was heading for her bed, without even stopping once to listen or whispering her name, but instead swiftly crossing the room without any feeling around and stumbling in the total dark. She had thought it would go down quite differently, that once he arrived he would still need a bit of persuading and reassuring as he approached her bed and joined her under the covers. Instead she already felt the matttress shifting slightly under his weight as he climbed on the bed and reached out for her while she was still trying to shake off her confusion and sleep-daze, and then she was even more amazed to notice how smoothly and quickly he wriggled under the covers with a soft sigh of contentedness when his cool skin met her warmth. The strangest thing of all was that all of this didn't feel as weird and wrong as it should - instead it felt familiar, like something she was already used to. This inexplicable contradiction in the strange familiarity of his snuggling against her, his body so naturally adjusting to hers as if he had done this uncountable times before, nearly had her paralyzed with confusion and even doubt, until the moment when he slid an ice-cold hand under her nighty and jerked her out of her rigor.

"Wha – ah, ummph … mmm – Chaaanndler …!"

"Shshsh! It's okay. Sh. Sorry … Oooh. Um. Oh god, you're so hot …"

This made her giggle almost in spite of herself, but she still felt confused and strangely disoriented. As if something fundamental had suddenly changed, wasn't quite right – or was it?

"Did I wake you?"

"Huh? Yeah, I guess I fell asleep …"

"Aw. I'm sorry it got so late, but Ross just wouldn't go to sleep and when he did I couldn't sleep, so I came over after all. Is that okay?"

"Huh? But you said you would sneak over later."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did! Right after we kissed on the balcony –"

There was a slight pause in which she sensed him looking at her confusedly. Then, very carefully, he repeated "On the balcony ..?!"

She sat up abruptly. "Yes! We kissed at midnight, and on the balcony because – um, because of the pact, and …"

Chandler kept silent at this and all at once she felt as if reality was reasserting itself all over and thudding into place, or like a dense fog all around her suddenly lifting and dispersing, taking with it the last remnants and shreds of the other reality she'd just inhabited.

"Oh. Oh god. Yeah … I guess it was a dream." She lay back down and reached out for him, drawing him close. "Just a dream – but it felt so real!"

Chandler chuckled. "So we kissed on the balcony?! Mm, sounds great!"

"Yeah ..." For a long moment Monica wasn't sure if she should tell him the dream. Did telling a dream mean it would come true or that it wouldn't? She just couldn't decide and while she was still debating with herself, she realized that it was already becoming fuzzy and insubstantial in her mind, the dream reality vanishing from her grasp like smoke. The emotions lingered on though, she could still taste the frustration and sadness she had felt for losing Chandler and being unable to get together with him again – after London. Which made no sense, because they were together now and had been together since London, never separating since …

"You know I would like to do it on the balcony," Chandler now mumbled hopefully as he started to kiss his way down from her neck to her stomach.

"Just a reminder: it's around 30 degrees there right now. And what about the scary pigeon? And the neighbors? And -"

"Yeah, I know. You're right. But still, you did dream about it!"

"Yeah. I guess I did at that." She hooked a leg over his waist and held on to his shoulders as his lips arrived at her navel and his hand crept over her hip to cup her buttocks, making her squirm and shudder in anticipation. And when she closed her eyes, the part of the dream where she had found herself in Chandler's arms and kissing him at midnight came back to her. That magical moment when time had stood still for them, the moment when she had known that all was put right between them and they were together again. And the joy she had felt then and still remembered now finally drove out the last remnants of the lingering sadness and replaced it with deep and joyous content.

1999. It was going to be Their Year. There was no way it could go wrong for them now. They had kissed at midnight, both in the real world in plain sight of everybody, and in her dream, and both kisses would make sure they would be happy together, no matter what happened. She was sure about that, just as she was sure that it was going to be really really perfect.

She just knew.

.

.

.


.

A/N

Never say never again, right? I had been so, so sure I wouldn't possibly be able to continue this series of their coming together in some magic parallel world or whatever on New Year's Eve after the point in time Chandler and Monica actually got together for real - until inspiration struck and I just had to write this, because it felt so true, to them and to the story both. After all, I can always fall back on my original plan of doing something with their first New Year in the late 80s next year. Or the year after if I manage to wrench another idea for a chapter in Chandler's POV from my brain after all, if only to satisfy my need for balance (3 chapters for each POV). On the other hand, this last chapter really feels to me like it should be the last, at least of this series, and it would also feel more right if a series of stories of Mondler's pre-canon New Years were to be a new series of its own, and not additions to this one. But there's still one whole year to go again during which anything could happen, right? So I'll confine myself to waiting to see what it will bring me and all of you out there, and just wish you all a very happy and successful and fun and awesome New Year 2019 for now!