Monica took a deep breath as she turned the corner, the restaurant coming into view and seeming to mock her. Rachel had tried to convince her to stay home today, to take a sick day and as appealing as that sounded she wouldn't let them win. Couldn't. No matter how hard it was, she refused to give in and quit, especially now. Thoughts of the large smirk on his face as he counted his money and high-fived the others made her feel sick to her stomach. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. No way.

She was Monica Geller.

She didn't feel ready to fully confront him just yet, her heart was still trying to comprehend exactly what had happened. It had been so quick and brutal that it hadn't had a chance to recover and rebuild itself. She'd have to try and avoid him today as much as possible, give herself some time and then she'd face him and deal with it, face reality.

"Monica!"

She swallowed, dread rushing through her as Chandler jogged up to meet her. She kept on walking.

"Hey? Monica?" He was right next to her but she kept her head down, telling herself to ignore him.

He got in front of her, forcing her to stop. He placed a hand on either side of her shoulders but she abruptly shrugged him off.

"You ok?" he asked confused, his brow deeply furrowed as he tried to make out her strange behavior, "Hey, what's going on? Are you alright? I've been waiting for you, I was worried about you leaving early yesterday; do you still feel ill?"

She squared her shoulders, she could do this. Pushing past him, she continued walking, her steps quick. He grabbed her arm, coming around in front of her again and this time she looked up, letting him see the betrayal and anger in her eyes.

He startled, taking a step back, "Monica? What's-"

"Drop the act," she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady, cold.

"Act?" he sounded confused, "What are you talking about?"

"I know everything."

"Good, because I know nothing!" he snapped, "What's going on with you?"

Monica shook her head frustrated that he was going to make it difficult for her, frustrated that he cared so little for her that he was going to try and play her until she broke. That he wouldn't just admit it and end it now. It hurt she meant so little to him but she'd be damned if she was going to show him that.

"Forget it," she whispered hotly, not letting the tears that stung the back of her eyes actually fall. She wouldn't show him weakness, not again.

She was grateful he didn't try to follow her and she quickly entered the restaurant. Changing into her chef clothes on autopilot, she headed into the kitchen. She ignored the usual snide comments and muttered remarks as her colleagues expressed their displeasure that she hadn't taken a sick day as they'd hoped.

As she led the quick huddle, Monica could feel Chandler's piercing eyes on her but she refused to meet his gaze.

"You alright?" Joey whispered a little while later as she placed down her knife.

"Yeah," she lied, pleased he was here with her through all this.

Part of her had thought she'd need to fire him faster to try and scare them, to redeem herself after falling for the Chandler thing. But another part of her was even more reluctant to, needing a friendly face to get her through the next few days. Just a few days to get over Chandler with his gorgeous blue eyes and cheeky smile…she just had to get over him and then she could fire Joey.

Would it still work though? Would Chandler have already told them all? It had been his idea -was it part of his ploy? Did he plan to expose her and Joey as fakes in front of everyone? She could imagine it now, everyone standing around laughing at her, pointing at her, making the situation even worse than it already was.

Hell, maybe she could just fire Chandler? That would solve all of her problems. Then she wouldn't have to work with him; she would get her revenge and show everyone that you didn't mess with Chef Geller. But could she actually do it? Could she look him in the eye in front of everyone and fire him? Make him walk out of her life and never see him, those eyes or that smile again? Did she have a choice?

Frustrated, she headed towards the back of the kitchen to grab her sharpening stone.

"Hi." She closed her eyes annoyed. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? "Look," he continued, after she didn't respond, "did earlier really happen or did I drink too much Yoo-hoo last night?" He was trying to make a joke, trying to make light of the situation. Her blood started to boil. How could he even try and joke about this? Biting down her hurt and anger she decided to blank him. "Would you please talk to me? At least clue me in on what I've meant to have done?"

Growling, she turned to glare at him, "Like you don't know!" she bit out, pissed that he kept trying to maintain this facade. "I know what you're trying to do, ok, so just stop it. It's mean and horrible and I don't deserve it," she swallowed, hating how her voice wavered.

"I still don't understand," he sounded pained, sincere and she closed her eyes. How could he still affect her like this when she knew it was all an act?

"Here," she dug into her pocket pulling out the notepad, shoving it hard at his chest. "Ways to make a bad chef quit? Ring any bells? Well I've got some bad news for you, I've read them now, so you've lost your surprise factor."

She swallowed seeing the recognition in his eyes.

"That's not…it isn't what it looks like."

"Sure it isn't," she mocked sarcastically. "I heard you in the breakroom too, discussing your 'prize' for getting rid of me, how genius it was. I can't believe you'd sink this low Chandler, for the sake of a few hundred dollars, which I know you don't need," her voice cracked again as tears filled her eyes, "I just hope it was worth it."

With that she pushed past him back into the main kitchen. She had to keep it together, she didn't want to break down in front of everybody. Giving her knife a quick sharpen, she started to dice the fish with more force than was needed, trying to block everything out. Block out just how unfair this whole situation was.

She just needed to focus on the food, focus on her job.

Monica looked down at her chopping board, surprised at how fast she'd gotten through the fish. "Can you get me some more swordfish?" She asked a passing assistant who just looked at her, "I need more swordfish."

"I don't speak English."

"You did a minute ago," she pointed out trying not to get worked up.

"Well," the woman smirked, "I don't know what to tell you."

Monica shook her head, fighting back more tears. Why did they all hate her? Why wouldn't they just give her a chance? Upset that she was getting upset over something so stupid, she shook her head quickly.

"Fine, I'll get it myself then," she griped, walking towards the fridge.

Entering the chiller she headed straight to where she knew the swordfish was kept, still muttering to herself. Seconds later the door slammed closed behind her. She was trapped. Telling herself not to panic she tried pushing the door back open but it wouldn't budge.

"Very funny!" She shouted, trying to remain calm but she could feel the terror bubbling up through her. She hated closed spaces. "Somebody let me out! Please?"

There was no response as she fumbled around in the dark. Tears were starting to fill her eyes as anxiety started to fill her.

"Please," she practically begged, banging on the door, how could anyone be so horrible? "It's dark and I'm cold."

Still silence greeted her. Were they all just the other side of the door laughing at her whilst she was frightened? Was Chandler out there with them, smiling and amused at her terror? Would he do that to her? Her heart didn't want to believe he could be that cruel but after everything he'd done…

"Come on!" she pleaded, as dread rushed through her body at a sudden thought; how long would they leave her in here?

Did they really want her to quit so badly they'd leave her here until the shift ended or even until the morning staff opened up? She shivered, hating the thought. Desperate now, she started to frantically feel along the door edge, trying to find a way out on her own when her shoulder painfully banged against a shelf, something fell, hitting her and seconds later she was covered in something. The smell filling the cramped room told her it was marinara sauce.

"Please?" she shouted again, "Let me out?"

Suddenly the door opened.

Chandler.

He looked her over, looking thoroughly pissed as he helped her out.

"What's wrong with you idiots?" he demanded, turning from her to face his colleagues that had gathered. His voice was hard, almost dangerous and it surprised her. "How could you do that to her? To a woman? Trap her somewhere like that?"

Joey entered the kitchen, eyeing up the commotion as Chandler continued his rant.

"Are you proud of yourselves? Are you? Would you let anyone do that to your mom or sister or daughter? Seriously? This woman is a good person and a damn good chef and she doesn't deserve this," he gestured to her and the storeroom, "Doesn't deserve any of this crap! She may not want to stand up for herself but I will. Stop bullying her. Get over yourselves and grow up before she fires the lot of you."

A stunned silence settled over the room, people looking down at the ground, no one answering.

"Yeah!" Joey spoke up suddenly, stepping to stand beside Chandler. "I may not have worked here long but I like Chef Geller. She's a nice person and you're lucky to be working with her. I know she wrote some rubbish review but forget about that. She's a decent human being and you guys are out of line."

Monica didn't know what to do, blushing furiously as everyone shuffled their feet, waiting. It was her time to shine. She took a deep breath.

"T-thank you," she said to both of them before addressing the small crowd. "Right, I'm not taking it anymore. From now on it's my way or the high way. Anyone got a problem with that they can leave now. Anyone that stays better be prepared to work damn hard. The first person that even glares in my direction is getting fired. You hear?"

Silence.

"She asked a question," Chandler said quietly, his voice still laced with something edgy.

Quickly everyone nodded with various versions of, "Yes, Chef Geller."

"Good, now back to work. Go!"

Everyone scuttled off and Monica let out a shuddery breath. She couldn't believe that had just happened. Maybe this was finally the turning point she'd craved? But where did it leave her with Chandler? He'd lied, betrayed and tricked her… yet he'd been the one to rescue her from the chiller. He'd taken it upon himself to reprimand everybody. The man that didn't like confrontation had confronted them all in style, completely shocking her.

It made no sense, no sense at all. Had it been some kind of mistake? Had her initial instincts been right and he was one of the good guys? God, she hoped so but she'd seen what she'd seen and heard what she'd heard. Maybe he'd had a change of heart and backed down, feeling guilty for his actions?

Monica knitted her brow in deep thought as her eyes sought out the man at the center of the mystery but he had his back to her, already walking away and out of the kitchen. She sighed heavily as she stared after the swinging doors, her gut churning. She really needed to talk to him, to find out the truth.

"You ok?"

She forced her attention away from the doors and onto Joey, "Yeah," she lied, "thanks for that."

"It's Chandler you should be thanking," he commented, offering her a half-smile as his hand rubbed the shoulder that wasn't covered in sauce for a moment before he went back to work.

Monica tried to focus on cooking but it was difficult. Every time the door swung open she looked up hopefully but it was never Chandler. In fact she hadn't seen him since the incident.

Huwie walked in and she did a double take at the small nod he gave her. Maybe it really was working?

"Er, Huwie?"

"Yes, Chef Geller?" he answered immediately, seeming a little sheepish.

She frowned surprised, "Uh, have you seen Chandler?"

"Oh, he went home after…he said he wasn't feeling well. He must have whatever you had last night."

It felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. He'd left?

She swallowed, her heart sinking, "Oh, ok."

Monica had no time to dwell as a large table arrived. She tried to concentrate on her job but her mind kept wandering back to Chandler and the hurt she'd seen in his eyes. This time last night she'd been so sure he'd betrayed her…but now?

What the hell was going on?

People actually helped to clear up and wished her good night. It was strange. She couldn't enjoy it though or bask in the new friendly environment that she'd wanted for so long. Once she'd learnt he'd left, a knot had formed in her stomach, which had gradually tightened as the shift went on, twisting as an overwhelming sense of guilt had started to consume her. She must have made a mistake. Must have. She'd accused the one man that had shown her kindness in that hostile restaurant and thrown it back in his face. Found him guilty without a trial. She could still picture his confused hurt face, it was still haunting her and she felt awful.

"You ok?" Joey asked yet again as they walked quietly home.

For once he didn't have a date and Monica couldn't decide if it was genuine or if he just wanted to keep an eye on her. She appreciated it either way.

"Yeah," she lied again, her arms folded protectively across her chest, looking down at the concrete beneath her shoes. "Do you think he'll forgive me, Joey?"

"Sure," he didn't sound too convinced. "I mean I don't really know the guy but it was just a misunderstanding, right? He wouldn't have done what he did today if he hated you."

She nodded half-heartedly not believing his words.

"Plus," Joey hurriedly continued, sensing how miserable she still was, "it really worked; I was out back afterwards and heard them talking about it. They actually feel guilty about what they did to you. And the best thing is it happened without firing me. It means I can stay on until I get an acting job and get more money. The guy did good."

"Very good," she sighed, feeling even worse than she had before. Even after what she'd accused him of he'd still gone out of his way to help her. She wondered if she should go around there and see him now but what if he wasn't willing to talk to her. Her emotions were running high and she didn't think she could handle him slamming the door in her face tonight. Besides, he had left the restaurant early without talking to her. If he had wanted to see her tonight he would have stayed or at least met her after the shift, after he'd processed everything.

He hadn't. That had to mean something. Her gut clenched.

She stayed silent for the rest of the short walk home, ignoring Joey's worried looks as they made it up the stairs and into the safety of apartment 20. Ross, Phoebe and Rachel were all sitting around the table and she bit back a sigh. It was late, she'd had an exhausting day, emotionally draining and she really didn't feel like playing host.

Head down, she headed towards her room but Rachel moved quickly and blocked her path. She raised an eyebrow in a silent question, she wasn't in the mood for games.

"Mon," her voice was a little hesitant, "um, that Chandler guy came round. He, uh, wanted to bring over this," she held out a large envelope.

Monica's heart leapt, "What?" she asked stunned, her eyes widening as she tried to comprehend what she was saying. "He was here?"

Rachel nodded.

Why had he come here when he knew she was at the restaurant? Her heart started to beat that little bit faster as her gaze went from her curious roommate onto the envelope. She reached out with a slightly shaking hand, taking it from her. Swallowing hard, Monica walked over to the kitchen table, sitting down slowly. With a deep breath she carefully opened the envelope and removed the contents- a plastic folder with a small sheet of folded paper on the top.

She unfolded the paper first instantly recognizing Chandler's attempt at hand-writing:

Monica,

I know it looks bad but I promise you it's not what you think. I haven't lied to you and I certainly haven't been helping those jerks. I really like you, you've already made it onto my favorite people list and I don't screw over people on that list. Trust me, I know how much it hurts to be stabbed in the back and I'd never do that to you.

'Shoo Chef' wasn't a plot against you…it was just for a script.

It sounds horrible now but it started before I got to know you. Their antics inspired me to write about it and create a whole new character and scenario with ideas for pranks that I thought would be funny on screen. It wasn't about bullying or the cruelty they put you through. It was just meant to entertain.

I'm sorry. It was stupid and insensitive and I should have ripped it up once I got to know you. Please know it was never intended to insult or hurt someone as incredible as you. I won't send it to LA. You can ditch it, destroy it completely, whatever, I just wanted you to see it first and see that I'm telling the truth.

If you wanna talk, I promise to tell you absolutely everything. I'll be waiting at the best private bar in town.

Chandler x

Monica closed her eyes a moment, letting the words on the paper sink in as relief swept through her. It had been for a script? A damn script! He hadn't been plotting behind her back, laughing with the others as they carried out each horrible prank. He'd just been doing what was natural to him; writing.

All those conversations and kisses had been real. He was real, genuine and he still liked her. Thank God.

He cared enough to set her straight on the matter and said he was willing to explain about everything. Did that include his past life in LA? Would he finally open up to her about why he was so skittish? Her heart swelled as she beamed happily, picking up the folder and seeing the neatly typed script.

She skimmed a few pages, smiling at Chandler's writing. He was good. And he'd been telling the truth, the script was about a young hopeless guy whose dad owned a restaurant and made him head chef. He was clueless and washed lettuce with a bar of soap and spent ages looking for a bacon stretcher as the others laughed in the background. Whilst it was loosely based on her, he wasn't mocking her.

"Monica?"

She blinked back tears, suddenly remembering the others were all there, watching her intently and looked mightily confused.

"Sorry," she swallowed, still a little overwhelmed as she closed the script. "It was all a misunderstanding. He wasn't working with the others and he likes me. I, uh need to go and talk to him," she announced standing up quickly, tucking the script back into the envelope.

"Monica," Phoebe's voice stopped her, "there's something else you need to see before you go."

"What?" she asked only half paying attention, her mind still on Chandler and the impending conversation. He was waiting for her. They'd apologize to each other, laugh, talk about everything, she'd learn his secrets and they would kiss and…

"We, uh," Ross cleared his throat, "we found out a bit about his past."

She frowned confused at her older brother, shaking her head, "What do you mean?" she asked her voice taking an edge as she suddenly felt protective of him. They'd met him once and thought it was ok to start investigating him? "You've been digging up dirt on him? You've no right to-"

"No," Rachel immediately denied, defending them. "It's not like that. Look, when he came over here I thought he looked a little familiar and…" she gestured to Ross who opened his laptop, turning it to face her and hesitantly Monica came closer to it.

She stared at the screen and froze, recognizing Chandler's face instantly and she gasped.

A/N- sorry for the slight delay on this one and for leaving it on another cliff hanger. Thank you so so much for the reviews and I loved hearing all your theories! For the guest that asked about the title. It is the Madonna song as I wanted something with the word 'stranger' in and 'beautiful stranger' seemed to describe Chandler spot on, plus not all, but a few of the lines really seemed to fit this story.