"Hi," Monica greeted the next evening as she sat down closely next to him on their step.

"Hey."

She frowned as he scooted fractionally away from her.

"Are you ok?" she asked and he offered her his trademark smile.

"Of course, I just," he glanced over his shoulder as if to ensure no one was there. "I just think we should keep it outside of work."

"Oh," she blinked surprised, trying to ignore the hurt that shot through her.

"No, not like that," he sighed, risking a quick touch to her knee, his thumb rubbing lightly. "I had a great time last night and I do like you but I don't think it's such a good idea that those lot in there know I like you."

"Oh," she repeated. Was he ashamed to be seen with her? Was he really that afraid of what those jerks thought of him?

"I'm not ashamed of you or anything," he explained quickly, as if reading her thoughts, "I just think it's better if I'm on the inside. This way when they hide your hat or put your keys in the freezer, I can warn you about it."

"Wait, they put my keys in the freezer?"

"Yeah," he confirmed with a sigh, "in a tub of water. You better grab them out when you go back otherwise they'll be frozen solid in a block of ice by the time the shift finishes." It was her turn to sigh. Their pranks didn't get to her as much as before and she fully suspected that was because of the man currently sitting beside her. Over these last couple of weeks he'd fast become her rock in this hellhole. "See, if they know I'm 'team Monica' they'll keep stuff from me."

"I guess," she reluctantly agreed although she secretly quite liked the whole 'team Monica' thing.

"Hey, it's just until the weekend right? Then you'll fire Joey and become the scary boss lady and they'll all be scared of you and all this crap will finally be over."

She nodded, a small smile coming to her face; he was good at making her smile and she loved that fact.

"So did you get in trouble with your roommate?" he asked.

"Oh yeah, she waited up for me. Thank god I had that book from your mom as a bribe!" He chuckled in acknowledgement. "What about you? Did you get the third degree this morning?"

"Uh huh," he rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "she wanted to know everything about you, was I seeing you, are you my girlfriend, how long had I been seeing you, am I seeing you again, blah, blah, blah."

Monica nodded, resisting commenting that she would like to know the answers to some of those questions as well.

"So, are you free again tonight?" he asked innocently, letting it hang in the air.

"I'm sorry," she shook her head regretfully, "I've got to get an early one tonight – I'm babysitting my nephew tomorrow."

"Oh."

"He's fast on his feet now and I need to be awake and alert," she winced, he still looked disappointed, a little pout coming to his lips; it was quite an endearing look on him. "You could walk me home though if you want?" she suggested, "Though, no, it's out of your way."

"Nah ah, you can't offer and then just retract it like that. I'm walking you home later. No choice."

She smiled shyly, "Thanks Chandler."

"You don't have to thank me, I want to do it." He promised softly, their eyes meeting for a long moment, until he looked away and down at his watch. "I better run, see ya later."

"Later," the smile stayed on her face until he had left.

She was very grateful to have him on 'team Monica'.

"She's carrying her brother's babies?" he asked a little stunned as they walked home later that evening. "I mean it's sweet…but kinda disturbing."

"She's already enjoying freaking people out," Monica agreed, "When she tells people her brother is the father- you should see their faces."

"I bet," he laughed, his hand discreetly finding hers, threading their fingers together. "And triplets? That's a whole lot of babies."

"Ye-ah," she swallowed, enjoying his hand in hers. It was nice after having to ignore him most of the evening to maintain the ruse.

"How did her brother take the news he was getting three kids? Usually, the odds of just one of those eggs attaching and adapting to the surrogate womb is like…what?" he asked as he noticed her raised eyebrow.

"Were you a doctor as well as a writer back in LA?"

His step faltered slightly and Monica cursed herself for even mentioning his past life. For whatever reasons he still seemed very sensitive about that time.

"No, I uh," he recovered quickly, "I briefly considered it as a career choice when I moved back here but it turns out the final exam was like 3 years longer than the waitering one so, you know," he shrugged in a go-figure way and Monica smiled relieved.

"They made you take a course to become a waiter?" she teased lightly and he chuckled.

"Nah, I got to skip it; turned out I was a natural."

Monica grinned, squeezing his hand lightly, "I'm not so sure Joey will be a natural," she confessed, "This morning he knocked over the cereal packet and there were cheerios all over the floor and he didn't even notice."

"And…what, you're worried he's a secret cereal killer?"

Monica raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed, "Cereal killer?"

"I say dumb things sometimes," he shrugged nonchalantly, "You should probably get used to that. I don't get paid to be funny anymore…anyway, swiftly moving on, what was so bad about him spilling cereal?"

"He stepped on some and they squished onto the floor and some crumbs made it into the carpet and urgh," she shuddered much to his amusement. "I'm not a fan of mess, especially not in the kitchen."

"Noted, remind me to never attempt to cook you pancakes one morning," he said much to Monica's delight that he wanted to wake up with her one morning. "I tried a while back for my mom's birthday and well, the cleaner's still pissed at me and the pancakes were inedible."

"You have a cleaner?"

"Doesn't every waiter?" he quipped before shrugging embarrassed. "It's my mom's cleaner. Mom doesn't like housework and is often away on tour or locked away writing, so she has someone come in. It's not a big deal."

"If you say so," she shook her head in amusement as they reached her building and she stopped.

"Come on, door-to-door service," Chandler grinned, pulling her up the steps.

When they came to her landing and reached the door to apartment 20 she turned to him.

"Well, I would invite you in but then you'll have to meet the vultures and you may not get back out alive."

"That's ok, it's kinda late and I uh," he shrugged and she nodded. She didn't really want him to meet everyone until she at least knew where she stood. They hadn't really been out on a proper date yet and something was definitely holding him back…she just didn't know what yet.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" Chandler asked hopefully.

"Sure, if it wasn't for Ben I'd suggest lunch but…"

"Ben?" he creased his brow. "I have competition?"

"From like a 2 year old," she laughed, running a hand down his arm, "he's my nephew."

"Aw, right," he looked embarrassed, a cute blush coloring his face. "Well on that note…"

As he turned to move away, Monica reached out a hand, grabbing his arm and holding him in place. He raised a confused eyebrow at her and before she could overthink it she pulled him closer to her. She clamped both hands either side of his face and crashed her lips to his.

It took just seconds for him to respond, kissing her back just as hungrily. She could feel the electricity crackling through her as the kiss deepened. The man knew what he was doing. She felt him walk her backwards a few steps, bringing her back to the wall. Sandwiched between the brick and Chandler she let out a little whimper. How could just a kiss affect her this way?

When the need for oxygen became too great they broke apart, his face was flushed and his breathing somewhat ragged as he looked at her. Eventually with a heavy sigh he took a step back, his eyes still intently on hers.

"That, um," he cleared his throat, wetting his lips, though his voice was still a little huskier than normal, "that was some kiss good night."

"Yeah," she smiled back, not breaking their eye contact. "That was something alright."

He nodded, studying her a moment longer before taking another step back, "Right, so uh, I'll see ya tomorrow?"

"Sure."

They shared another look before he grinned and disappeared back down the stairs.

"So I have a question for ya," Chandler asked as she joined him on the fire escape a few days later. "How come everyone's calling Joey 'Dragon'?"

She snorted, "Just something he's trying. Joey's a little…"

"Yeeaah, I got that when I had to tell him how to pronounce 'carbonara' like four times," he commented lifting his smoke to his mouth, "I thought you said he was Italian?"

"Part Italian," she corrected, "he doesn't really speak it but he does know a few Italian swear words."

"And that will get him far in life I'm sure," he teased, his eyes dancing. "He seems to be doing ok, although I did have to help him with his tie."

"Thanks for looking out for him," she smiled warmly.

"No problem," he said quietly, "he's looking out for you right? So it's only fair I look out for him."

Monica swallowed at the sincerity of the man. She really wanted to kiss him right now but looked away instead, remembering whatever this was between them had to remain a secret at work. Her gaze landed on the notepad on his knee.

"Any good material tonight?" she asked.

"Mainly Joey, he's filled like 3 pages," he chuckled and Monica laughed along with him. "When are you firing him?"

"I'm thinking tomorrow or Monday, get him some money and make it more believable."

"Smart move," he nodded, slipping the notepad away as he stood up, stubbing out his cigarette. "Although, I might need to buy another notepad to cope with the additional Joey material. See you later?"

"Later," she agreed with a laugh.

"What the hell happened?!" Monica hissed, pulling Joey to one side, rolling her eyes as he started making lame excuses about the tip money. "I don't care, we had a deal. That's the reason you're here! I've got to fire you!"

She needed them to either like her or respect her. She needed to work in a nice friendly environment and more importantly she wanted to be able to openly date Chandler. If he was willing to take the chance and actually date her that was. Yeah, she knew there was something holding him back, something making him skittish but it would be nice to be able to openly exchange a quick hug or kiss with him.

"I wanna help but I've gotta pay rent, Monica! Look, how about this? You don't fire me, instead I stay here, I gain their trust and they'll start listening to all the nice things I've been saying about you?"

"What kinda things have you been saying?" she asked curiously. Chandler hadn't mentioned anything.

"Well nothing yet," he blushed slightly, fidgeting, "they really hate you and I want to fit in."

She sighed down-heartedly and nodded, watching as he offered her one last apologetic wince before turning away, looking back down at the money in his hand. Tearing her eyes off him she reluctantly returned to the starters she was preparing.

"So that didn't go to plan, huh?"

She looked up, grateful to meet his playful eyes.

"No, not exactly," she admitted, glancing around to make sure they were being ignored as usual. "What do I do, Chandler? He won't let me fire him."

"You're his boss," he pointed out, "fire him anyway."

"I can't do that," she chuckled, shaking her head, "Not to Joey."

"Then tell him you'll give him a few more days, if things haven't changed you'll have to fire him whether he wants you to or not."

"Maybe," she mused.

"Don't worry, it'll all work out," he promised quietly, his hand resting on her arm reassuringly. They shared a long look before Huwie loudly entered the kitchen complaining about something and breaking the moment completely.

Rolling his eyes at his colleague's timing, Chandler offered her arm a quick squeeze before he removed his hand completely and walked away.

As Huwie continued to rant loudly, Monica tried to ignore him, hoping Chandler's wise words were true.

"Hey," Joey grinned as he headed over to her. It was still kinda weird seeing someone else smile at her in this kitchen. It was usually just Chandler.

"Hey," she grinned back, refocusing on chopping the tomatoes. "What's up?"

"Have you seen Chandler? I think this is his."

Glancing up she spotted his trusty notebook.

"I'll take it," she grabbed it knowing how important it was to him and how he didn't like questions about it. "I've got my break in a second, so I'll give it to him then."

"Ok, cool," he nodded. "I better get back to flirting with the woman at table 17- she is hot!"

"Joey!" she protested but he just winked at her and walked out of the kitchen.

Finished with the preparation for the salad, she washed her hands and told the sous-chef she was on her break. He merely grunted and she just shook her head. With both Joey and Chandler on 'team Monica' it made her feel a bit better but she still hated the hostile atmosphere here. She'd have to fire Joey soon and pray it worked.

She headed for their fire escape but frowned when she saw it was firmly closed. Pushing it open she immediately discovered why; it was pouring down with rain and hail. Hmm, she glanced around just in case she could spot Chandler sheltering somewhere but he wasn't anywhere to be seen.

Deciding she didn't want to go to the breakroom and hoping that Chandler may come looking for her, she left the door open a jar and sat on the floor in the doorway, watching the large angry drops as they hit the concrete with an impressive force. She loved a good storm.

The breeze lifted her hair and she closed her eyes a moment, just enjoying the fresh air. She loved being in a kitchen…maybe not this one so much. She loved the smells, the heat and the chaos but at the same time the cool air was always so refreshing.

Opening her eyes Monica reached into her pocket and extracted the small notepad, stroking the tatty cover idly. He'd let her look through it at his house but she'd only skimmed a few pages. She was curious to see what ideas and inspiration he'd found recently and figured he wouldn't mind.

She started flicking through, taking a little longer to decipher the hurriedly scribbled words, jokes and brainstorms. Monica chuckled at a little sketch of two stickmen that were sat at a table with the speech bubble, "I didn't steal it. I don't steal things ok, you know that. I'm actually insulted you would think that…I took it. It's totally different." It was interesting to see inside his psyche. To see what things inspired him enough to capture them.

Noticing, there was a page with the corner purposely folded down she turned to it, curious. Looking at the words she suddenly froze. The smile on her face instantly morphing into a disbelieving frown as she took in the underlined title 'Shoo Chef- Ways to Make a Bad Chef Quit'. Below there was a list of horrible cruel suggestions. The first several items had already been done to her, burn jacket, replace salt and sugar, place pan handles over the flame, they were all on there. Below those were a list of fresh ideas that she hadn't encountered…yet.

She swallowed, rereading the words on the page in disbelief, trying to make sense of them as the feeling of betrayal started to slowly spread through her. Was this all some kind of twisted game to him? Was he in on it with the others this whole time and been laughing behind her back? Coming up with suggestions of how to torment her?

No, she shook her head firmly in denial, that couldn't be it…could it? There had to be a mistake here, he wouldn't do that to her. She hadn't known him long but she'd felt a connection with him. He was such a nice guy, he cared for her and seemed so genuine…it couldn't have all been fake. She looked back down to the traitorous pad but the words refused to change, boldly staring her back in the face, in black and white.

No, not Chandler. He wouldn't do this to her. She just needed to find him, speak to him and get this misunderstanding straightened out. Now.

Still confused but desperately trying not to think the worst, Monica headed for the breakroom, assuming that was where he'd be. She gripped the notepad tightly in one hand as she marched up the stairs and down the small awkward corridor, biting back a snarky comment when one of the worker's deliberately rammed a trolley into her side.

She rounded the corner and stopped outside the door, peering through the small circle-window into the staff-room and paused. Chandler was there but he wasn't alone. He was sat balanced on the window sill, the window wide open as he smoked, despite the fact it was a non-smoking zone. He had his back to her and there were at least two others in there.

Damn.

Monica hesitated. They didn't like her in the breakroom. They barely tolerated her in the kitchen but the breakroom they now considered their territory. No outsiders. Plus what would the others make of it if she barged in there needing to talk to Chandler? As she debated her limited options she heard Huwie's loud voice from inside the room.

"I'm telling ya, Bing, I reckon you might win this one. Gain her trust, sleep with the bitch then leave her heart broken. She's definitely gonna quit and you'll be crowned king. We might even make a statue in your honor or at least scratch your name into one of the pans or something."

She blanched, waiting for Chandler to tell them to go to hell. To deny everything and restore her faith in him.

Silence.

"The prize-pool for getting her to walk is up to $400 right now and its going up," Johnno commented. "I wished I would have thought of fake-dating her. It may be the slow method but it's like the tortoise and the hare race. It's pure genius. You're genius."

"I know."

Two simple words that crushed her.

She didn't want to believe it. Desperately didn't. Despite the evidence getting crushed in her white-knuckled hand, despite the laughter coming from the breakroom, she didn't want to believe it. Couldn't believe that he would do that to her.

Her head started to spin, her heart beating rapidly, and blood rushing through her ears as it all started to crumble down around her. Overwhelmed, she stumbled her way to the bathroom. With shaking hands she locked the door and finally let angry tears fall. It wasn't the first time she'd cried in this cubicle but it was definitely the most painful.

Betrayal and anguish raced through her as she tried to get a handle on her sudden emotion turmoil. She felt so embarrassed, humiliated. Had he been telling them everything they shared? Laughing over her insecurities and high-fiving over her crying on his shoulder? Had his LA story been a lie? God, how had she been so stupid and let herself trust him so quickly. Of course Chandler hadn't been interested in her. No guy was that nice unless they had an ulterior motive.

But why had he acted so skittish about everything. Was her chasing him an added bonus to his horrible little game? Or had kissing her turned his stomach so much he could only handle so much? All those times he'd just happened to be there when she'd needed him, had they all been set up? Had they told him what they were planning so he'd be ready to play the comforting friend…or worse, had he been the one setting them up and directing the others?

No. These questions weren't helping her.

Taking some deep breaths she tried to get a grip of herself. She waited a few more minutes as she calmed her breathing and went over to the small sink. She stared at the reflection of her red blotchy face in the mirror before she splashed some cold water over it. Carefully she patted her skin dry with a paper towel, praying it would erase any traces of tears. She refused to give them any more satisfaction.

Monica unlocked the door and went to the cloakroom, grabbing her stuff, pleased that it was untouched and where she left it. She couldn't handle anymore hostility tonight. Any more proof of how cruel and mean this place could be.

Her head down she headed straight to the kitchen, ignoring the other workers and heading straight for Louie.

"Er, Louie I er-"

"Spit it out would ya?"

She swallowed, "I'm not feeling too good so I'm going to head home. Can you handle everything here?"

"I was doing it months before you even started. I'll cope."

She nodded, knowing that hearing a 'get well soon' was unlikely.

Monica left quickly, not seeing Chandler or Joey, for which she was grateful. She needed time to process this and be composed before she confronted him. And Joey had known her too long and would know something had happened. She walked at a swift pace, tightening her coat around her to keep out the bitter chill of the wind. Rain continued to pour but she barely noticed, her head too chaotic and her heart too broken.

She hadn't known him long enough to have a broken heart, she insisted, trying to make herself believe it. Though in truth, in the short amount of time she'd known him he'd got under her skin. She was really going to miss him.

"Monica?"

She blinked looking up to see Rachel's concerned face. Surprised she realized she was standing in her apartment doorway.

"Monica?" It was Phoebe this time. "Why are you home already? Are you ok?"

"No," she whispered shaking her head, letting the girls come to her.

They gently guided her to the couch as Ross joined them.

"What happened?" he asked.

"It was all a lie," she said softly, swallowing as her voice broke. It was still so raw. "Chandler was just using me, trying to…" she could feel herself losing control, "trying to get me to quit to win some money. I can't believe he would-"

She went silent. Speaking it out loud hurt too much, made it all too real. She ducked her head not wanting to waste any more tears on the fake relationship that she had come to rely on so quickly. She felt the others hug her, comforting her. These were her true friends, she needed to be grateful she had these wonderful people in her life and not dwell on Chandler.

"I thought he was genuine," she whispered as she mourned for what she'd lost. "I thought he liked me and he truly cared for me. All this time it was-"

She shook her head, it was too hard. Too hard to think about how cheated she felt. How the one piece of light she'd found at the horrible restaurant, that one candle had been brutally extinguished, leaving nothing but smoke in the darkness.

For the first time since their lives crossed paths, she wished she'd never met Chandler Bing.

A/N- Thanks again for all the reviews and comments. You guys rock!

I love the cereal killer joke from season 4, seems so underated so I was determined to get it in here somehow- hope it worked :o)