Entertaining Angels – Chapter Three
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Note: Just fair warning, there is some use of coarse language in this chapter, so I've bumped the chapter rating up to PG-13/T. If that offends you, I suggest you back up now :P
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"Are you serious, dude?" Joey asked Chandler incredulously, "Phoebe actually said that?" He shrugged sheepishly at his bestfriend before offering an opinion, knowing Chandler wouldn't want to hear it. "I think she did you a favour, man."
"How so?" Chandler all but growled, "I'm defenseless down on earth when I'm forbidden to use magic! I feel naked without it! And you just know she's going to be watching my every move now when I'm down there to make sure I don't!."
Joey raised his hands defensively, "Not that part… it's about Monica, dude. Pheebs is making you think more carefully about how you act around her. You're getting way too close to her. I was lookin' around for you one day and you were down on earth with her, and I watched you guys for a bit… you were all smiling at her, and she was smiling at you, and you guys just seemed, like, I don't know googly eyed and couple-like."
"So?" Chandler huffed with a defensive shrug, "I like my assignment, so what? It's not like we were making out." He blushed slightly, praying that Joey wouldn't notice. Not that his oblivious bestfriend was likely to. The thought of kissing Monica, was, for lack of a more appropriate adjective… pleasant. He wasn't about to let anyone else know that, though. He'd had enough being chewed into for one day over his assignment and 'inappropriate closeness' with Monica. The stubborn streak in him wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of knowing that they were right, even if they were dead on the mark.
Joey, clueless about anything but women, seemed to know exactly where his thoughts were. Chandler immediately regretted the quip. "But you wouldn't mind that, would you?" Joey grinned at him deviously.
Chandler's cheeks flared. "I – uh, I don't, um, I don't know what you're talking about. She's a nice, sweet girl, but I don't like her in that way," he insisted, his tone flustered.
"Yeah, you do," Joey smirked at him, "It's okay, I won't tell Phoebe. She doesn't know you're in this deep, or she never woulda let you back on the case. Weird, 'cause she can usually tell these things."
In an attempt to divert his friend's attention, Chandler changed the subject. "But did she have to say no magic?" Chandler pouted, "It would have been better if she had just taken me off the case! I groveled and begged and this is all I get?"
"What did you say to her to get her to change her mind, anyway?" Joey wondered, "I thought we were all out of second chances after that training exercise thing."
"Yeah," Chandler scoffed, "Thanks for that, by the way. That happened when we were 15 and learning to fly and I'm still hearing about it!"
Joey shrugged, and clapped his friend on the back. "No problem, man."
"Anyway, I convinced her that Monica needed me. Think about it like this: it's five days to Christmas! The assignment is over then. Who's going to replace me in that time? It took me that long to even get Monica to trust me. Now that we're doing good and I'm on the verge of helping her, why ruin what good has been done? And, secondly, Monica's getting kinda attached to me. What's she going to do if I suddenly disappear and never call again? She's going to be crushed and we'll back to square one, 'cause everyone she ever cares about leaves her."
Joey burst out laughing, so Chandler glared at him, crossly, "What's so funny about that?"
Joey giggled, bent over with laughter, "Sorry. It's just the thought of a woman so attached to you that she'd be crushed if you ditched her."
Chandler narrowed his eyes, snipping back, "Haha, Chandler sucks with women. Whatever, it's not like you're God's gift to women. Hmm, where should we start? The woman whose roommate you slept with? Messing with Phoebe's head by crushing on her sister? The other 500 girls you've two-timed, three-timed or four-timed?"
Joey sobered up. "Okay, I see your point. But, I'll have you know that I'm now an Amour Angel."
Chandler closed his mouth, mid-formation of a quip, to gasp, "Phoebe made you an Amour Angel?"
Joey nodded proudly, answering, "Yep! My job is hooking people up! Who knows how to do that better than me?"
It was Chandler's turn to chortle, "Yep, you're a real cupid. Have you been given your love arrows and your diaper yet?"
Joey scoffed in a haha-very-funny way, and claimed, "There's no need for cupid when Joey's in town! I'm the master of quick hookups. How hard can it be to get humans to fall in love with their soulmates?"
Chandler shrugged, explaining, "Humans are… intense. Love. Hate. Their feelings are all over the map. One minute they're happy, then upset, then angry, all in an hour! They'll wanna give you a hug and ten minutes later they'll want to clock you. Let me tell you, acting human sucks. You can't fly! You can't use magic. Can you imagine being human for the rest of your life?"
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"Chandler!" Monica shrieked as a snowball came whizzing through the air and hit the back of her black felt coat, "I'm carrying a bunch of gifts! I don't want them wet! Or you're going to help me rewrap them!"
"Aww, come on, Mon!" Chandler complained, "Have a little fun! The bags are plastic! Nothing's going to get wet! Just set them down against a tree or something!"
Monica still didn't move, so Chandler set his own bags down, leaning them against a tree, and bent over quickly to scoop up a handful of snow in his leather gloves, balling it up, and throwing it at her.
Monica gasped, exclaiming, "I cannot believe you just did that!"
Chandler smiled at her cheekily. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Kick your ass, that's what I'm going to do! You have opened a miserable can of worms, my friend!" Monica warned, running over to set her bags next to Chandler's. Seeing what she was planning to do, Chandler decided he'd better make the best of the one advantage he had: a head start. He turned around quickly, running in the opposite direction from Monica.
Shortly, a snowball hit him smack dab in the back of the head. Either he wasn't fast enough, or Monica had good aim. Based on her perfect scrubbie basketball scores he was guessing the latter. Why oh why had he started a fight he was bound to lose?
He shivered as the cold snow melted and slid down his neck and down the back of his shirt, despite his best efforts to brush if off. "That was cold, Mon, very cold! And I mean that in all senses of the word!" Chandler complained good-naturedly, "I have cold water dribbling down my back!"
Monica just laughed and countered, "You started this, Bing!"
Deciding he better retaliate before Monica took another shot at him, he quickly scooped up some snow and flung it behind him, hardly slowing to make sure his aim was in tact. It wasn't, and the snowball sailed a good two feet over her head. Damn.
Chandler quickly glanced over his shoulder, to see she'd managed to collect three snowballs and had gained a good ten feet on him. What was up with that? Was she superwoman? He smiled to himself at the thought… being the angel in charge of saving a superhero's soul would be cool, let alone one as hot as superwoman. Monica could be superwoman, he considered; she was really hot, too... He hardly had time to consider the thought as one after another, three snowballs sailed into the back of his jacket.
"Okay, what did I ever do to you?" He grumbled, still running to prevent further attacks, "I threw one itty bitty snowball and you declare war?"
"For one, you got a big white, wet spot on my new black coat!" she grinned maliciously, chasing him, "And two, it was two snowballs you threw. It's not my fault you have terrible aim! You only got me the first time because you were five feet away!"
"Hey! I resent that!" Chandler called out behind him, panting; running was hard work, flying was so much easier! "Besides you hit me four times, and got snow all inside my shirt! Aren't we even?"
Monica stopped running, and tapped her chin with her red gloves, pretending to consider his pleas, "Hmm, okay. But only if you admit I'm the winner of this snowball fight."
Chandler nodded, eager to appease her and jogged over to where she was standing, bowing dramatically. "Monica Geller is the victor of this snowball fight and queen of the world. I fail to match her greatness in snow flinging skills."
Monica nodded approvingly, "Good." He moved to wrap his arms around her waist and give her a hug, but stepped on a patch of slippery black ice in doing so and crashed to the snow-covered ground, pain radiating from his behind.
When Monica caught sight of him, flat on his ass in the snow, a shocked expression on his face, all she could do was laugh. Chandler scowled at her, narrowing his eyes at her teasingly, "You think this is funny?"
Monica glanced at him, her mouth twisted in a half smirk, "Hell yeah!" He peeled himself up off the ground, his pride a little shaken, but not broken. Being goofy and klutzy seemed to only make her like him more. He was okay with that. He wrapped his arms around her like he had been planning to do before he had fallen. Monica smiled up at him, from her position in his embrace. "This is nice," she said quietly, "I like us, hanging out like this."
"Me, too," he whispered against her hair, "Me, too."
They stood silently for a moment, just hugging, snow falling around them. Without warning, Chandler scooped Monica up in his arms. She gasped and shrieked once she realized what he was planning to do, "Let me down, Chandler! Do not dump me in the snow! You wouldn't dare! Chandler!" She squirmed in his arms as he marched purposefully towards a large snow bank.
Chandler grinned at her evilly, "Oh, I'm going to let you down! I may not have very good aim and I may not run very fast, but I'm stronger than you, no matter how freakishly strong you are!"
As he moved to dump her in the snow bank, she grabbed onto his shirt, yanking him down with her, as he lost his balance. They laid there half buried in the snow for a moment, him on top of her, attracting several odd looks from passersby. Neither noticed, as they stared intensely at one another for a moment, blue eyes searching blue eyes, before they realized the ridiculousness of the situation and burst out laughing.
"What do you say we go get some coffee?" Chandler asked, once he had successfully helped Monica up and they had managed to brush most of the snow off of themselves.
"Sounds like a great idea," Monica agreed with a nod, looking at Chandler curiously when he burst out laughing, "What?"
"Look at the impression that we left in the snow," he pointed, "It looks like someone was doing it in the snow." Monica looked at the image and giggled.
"Come on," Chandler said, taking her gloved hand into his and leading her towards their bags, "Let's go get that coffee. I'm freezing and Central Perk is screaming my name."
Monica nodded, squeezing his hand as he picked up all their bags, carrying hers for her, and led her across the street to the coffeehouse.
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"Hey I have a question," Monica said, once they were settled comfortably into the old, orange, crushed velvet couch, each with a cup of warm beverage in hand. Chandler, as he had claimed he would, had gotten a coffee, but Monica had opted for a hot chocolate, with extra marshmallows, because it was 'more Christmas-y.' It was strange to think how only less than two weeks ago she had been sitting alone in her apartment, wallowing in loneliness, staring at a beautifully decorated tree, but with no one to share it with… Now thanks to Chandler's presence in her life her Christmas spirit had improved and her life flipped 180 degrees. She was looking forward to the holiday, and especially giving him the beautiful, neatly wrapped gift she'd stored under her bed for safekeeping.
Chandler nodded, agreeably, "Okay, shoot."
Monica's cheeks pinked slightly. "Well, I was wondering if you have a girlfriend? Because if you do, you've been spending an awful lot of time with me lately – not that I'm complaining, I love spending time with you, I haven't laughed this much in ages! –but she must be upset. I mean it's the eve of Christmas eve, and you're here with me," she rambled, needing to know if her growing feelings for him were inappropriate or misplaced.
Chandler shook his head, a slight smile on his face, "No. It's just me alone for the holidays this year. I usually spend time with friends, but they're a little far away this year," he explained. Well, it wasn't exactly a lie, Joey and Phoebe were far away, even if not in the way Monica would expect. "How about you, spending the holidays with a boyfriend?" he asked, even though he knew perfectly well the answer to the question. It only seemed polite to ask, though.
Monica looked slightly downcast, "Nope. No one. I'll visit my parents quickly to drop off gifts, mingle a little, no longer than necessary and then head to the toy drive to donate a gift, but that's the extent of my celebrating. I don't do well with relationships," she looked into his eyes meaningfully serious, "I get attached, he doesn't, and he leaves. It's a never-ending cycle and I'm always left alone. I don't do relationships well."
"Hey now," he comforted, "I'm sure it's not that bad. You're gorgeous and funny and intelligent. You're the most beautiful woman in this coffeehouse! Who wouldn't want you?"
Monica shrugged, "Most men, apparently. You get used to it."
Chandler tipped Monica's chin up, so she was looking directly into his eyes. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he told her, his voice soft but determined, "You shouldn't have to. You're going to find that guy, I promise you. You'll fall in love and you'll know it's meant to be, and it'll last forever. The right guy is just around the corner, I promise."
Monica sighed and averted her eyes. "I wish it was that easy, I think my problem is I always go for the wrong guys," she glanced up at him quickly, "The ones that never want me back."
"It is that easy," he assured, "True love only has to happen once. Maybe you haven't found it yet, but you will." Monica smiled at him half-heartedly, desperately wanting to believe him. There was something about the tone of his voice and his general aura – was he glowing again? – in that moment that made her feel that, maybe, just maybe, he was telling the truth, and maybe it would happen. God, if only he could see. Why were men so oblivious?
Chandler squeezed her hand tightly, reassuringly.
Maybe they weren't.
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"Yeah," Chandler laughed, as he walked her home later that evening. They had sat in the coffeehouse sipping warm drinks and eating Christmas cookies, completely unaware as the hours flew by and the lightness outside turned to dark. "And then Joey says to me, 'Dude, she said, I-'" his sentence was cut short as a dirty, unshaven man, stepped in their pathway, waving a gun in their faces.
"You, get out your wallet!" he demanded, staring at Chandler with beady, red-rimmed eyes, before turning his attention to Monica, "Sweetheart, why don't you come stand over here by me, while your boyfriend empties his pockets, eh, how does that sound?" he asked, smiling at her as if he was doing her a favour. She looked at him distastefully and gripped Chandler's hand tighter; his breath reeked of alcohol.
Chandler stared back at him determinedly, pushing Monica behind him, "Don't touch her. You can take my money. Just leave her alone." He moved to dig in his pockets for his wallet. He could feel Monica shaking, from where she clung to his back, terrified out of her mind.
The mugger did not seem pleased with this compromise, and ignored the bills Chandler offered, "Do as I tell you to do, asshole! I'm the boss, not you. Let go of your bitch, or I'll shoot her." He paused to look at Monica for a second, "Why so scared, baby? We could have some fun, better than with this tight-assed asshole." He aimed the gun at Monica, who seemed only more terrified by the appeal. "If you'd just listened…""
When neither Chandler or Monica made a move to appease him, the mugger cocked the aimed gun, as if to prove the seriousness of his threat. "Look, fuckface," he snarled, "I said let go of the damn bitch. I'm giving you three seconds, then I shoot."
"Look," Chandler tried again, attempting to appeal to the mugger's greed by opening his wallet and displaying the multitude of bills, "I have nearly 300 dollars, here. You can buy a lot of shit with 300 bucks."
The mugger growled impatiently, making it clear he wasn't willing to negotiate and started counting, "One."
Chandler didn't even think about what he did before he did it. Monica was in trouble and she needed him. He was going to be damned if she was hurt while she was with him. He was here to protect her. He twirled a finger, removing the bullets from the gun by magical means. Only once the gun was empty did he realize he was forbidden from using magic. Damn. Damn. Damn.
"Two."
Chandler was hardly aware of Monica's presence behind him, cowering in terror. He descended towards the mugger purposefully. He seemed to be confused by the change in direction, and aimed the gun at Chandler instead, "Back off asshole. What do you think you're doing? I have a gun! I'll shoot your fucking face off!"
Chandler stared at him, his eyes hard. "Why don't you then?" he questioned evenly.
"Chandler!" Monica screeched, coming out of her terrified silence, "What are you doing?! You're going to get hurt. Please, you can't. You can't die."
The mugger snickered at Chandler. "You should listen to your bitch, she's a smart one." He aimed the gun at Chandler's head, and counted with a malicious sneer, "Three," and pulled the trigger, several times in quick succession. Chandler was vaguely aware of Monica's scream in the background.
Not a single shot fired.
Chandler cocked his head, as the guy looked at his gun in shocked confusion, and took a step forward, kneeing him in the groin. He collapsed like a pile of bricks. Opening his hand so only the mugger could see, he revealed the bullets he had taken.
"Fuck man," the mugger cried out, terrified, "I don't know what you did, but you fucking stole my bullets! Some voodoo shit or somethin'! You're a freak! A freak! I loaded this here gun ten minutes ago! You fucker!"
Chandler glared at him, standing over him menacingly. "You're not so much without your gun are you?" He snatched the weapon from the trembling man's hand, "I'll take this. Now apologize to my friend here, or 'I'll shoot your fucking face off,'" he mocked.
"I-I-I'm ss-sorry," the man stuttered.
"Say it like you mean it!" Chandler demanded, waving the gun in his direction.
"I'm sorry," the man said in a stronger, but still shaky voice.
"Good," Chandler muttered, leaning over the man threateningly, "Now, I better not hear that you ever, ever threaten to shoot another woman, man or child again, or you will wish you had never been born."
"Ye-yes, sir," the petrified man whimpered.
Chandler walked calmly back over to Monica, who was standing frozen in terrified shock ten feet away. When she realized he was okay, she burst out crying, and wrapped her arms tightly around him, "Oh my God, Chandler! Thank God you're okay! I was so scared!" She ran her arms down his limbs quickly, "You are okay, aren't you?" she asked with a worried expression in her eyes.
"Shh, it's okay," Chandler soothed, "I'm fine, you're fine. He's not going to hurt us. He was just bluffing. The countdown was a dead giveaway. His kind are in that kind of shit for the thrill of scaring the living daylights out of people. The money is just a perk. You saw how he refused to take my wallet until after he had screwed with us. The gun was empty. See," he said, opening the weapon, "Just a scare tactic."
"Still!" Monica exclaimed as they continued down the street, Chandler carefully keeping one eye on the mugger, "You took a huge risk! What if you had been wrong?!" her eyes filled with tears, "You put your life on the line for me! No one had ever done anything like that for me before!" she told him, tearily.
Chandler shrugged modestly; his eyes had darkened to a protective shade of cobalt blue. He could have lost her so easily. The thought scared the hell out of him. "It was nothing. I couldn't stand the thought of you being hurt. Not doing anything wasn't even an option." Monica latched onto his side, reveling in the feeling of protection she felt with him by her side.
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"You disobeyed my direct orders, Chandler," Phoebe stated seriously, "Even though you were fully aware of the consequences!"
"I know," Chandler stated, his eyes hard, "And I would do it again if I had a choice! Being stripped of angel status is worth saving a life."
Phoebe eyed him carefully. "Is that so?"
Chandler nodded emphatically, "Yes. As angels we protect others. Saving my own ass is secondary."
A hint of a smile appeared in the lines around Phoebe's mouth. "I'm proud of you, Chandler."
Chandler seemed taken aback, and questioned shocked, "You are?"
Phoebe nodded, "Your behaviour is commendable. You put your own happiness behind that of those whom you care about. This is not an easy feat, even for angels, the most selfless of all beings."
Chandler shrugged modestly and changed the subject, never having been comfortable with receiving complements. "Um, the man, in the alley, I told him-"
"I know," Phoebe claimed, "He's being dealt with as we speak. He is going to learn the error of his ways, whether he likes it or not. Once we are done with him, he'll emerge a better man." Chandler nodded and for a moment both angels fell silent.
"And me?" Chandler asked quietly, "What's going to happen to me?"
"Nothing," Phoebe told him, simply. "Your behaviour, while it outright disobeyed by orders, was admirable. We do not penalize virtue. The choice is yours."
"Choice?" Chandler asked confused, "What choice do I have?"
After a moment of heavy silence Phoebe responded, in a soft voice, "Whether or not to stay an angel, of course. I don't think you will, though."
"What?!" Chandler questioned, shocked, "Why wouldn't I want to remain an angel?"
"Oh," Phoebe responded airily, "Not because you're a glutton for punishment. Much the opposite, actually. You're in love, Chandler."
Chandler flushed, despite his best efforts to hide it, "In love?" he queried in a strained voice, "With who?" he asked, though he knew perfectly well who Phoebe was talking about.
Phoebe looked at him exasperatedly, knowing he was feigning ignorance. "Monica, of course! The choice is yours. Christmas Eve is tomorrow."
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"Merry Christmas!" Monica told Chandler, extending the perfectly wrapped red and gold gift towards him nervously, "I hope you like it. I really wanted to get something you'd like, but I-"
Chandler placed a finger to her lips, "No matter what it is, I'm going to like it, because it's from you."
Monica smiled shyly, looking at him with bashful eyes. "Really?"
Chandler nodded. "Really." He produced a small giftbox from behind his back. "You didn't think I forgot about you, did you?" Monica shrugged noncommittally.
"Thanks," she whispered, fingering the shiny green ribbon on the gift. "It's beautiful. I almost don't want to unwrap it."
"Before you do," Chandler said nervously, "There's something I really wanted to talk to you about." He clasped her hands gently in his, rubbing the backs of them with his thumbs.
Monica looked up at him, imploring him to continue. He did, in a slightly raspy voice, "What I wanted to say, was, um, that I've really enjoyed these past couple of weeks with you. You are my new favourite person in the whole world, and your friendship has meant the world to me. I guess what I'm really trying to say, is that," he paused, attempting to work up the courage to say the words, knowing that they would change the rest of his life, "I love you. I'm in love with you." He paused again, briefly, aware of a shift in energy within his body. Though he didn't feel physically different, he knew it was because he was now human. In spite of that fact, he felt strangely liberated. She was worth it.
Monica opened her mouth to respond, but before she could Chandler jumped in, continuing in a rambling voice, "And I know you might think I'm crazy and that this is insanely fast. But it isn't. This was meant to be. You know how I was telling you your soulmate was just around the corner?" he questioned rhetorically, "Well, I'd be the luckiest guy in the world if he was me. I can make you happy, Monica."
Monica looked at him with soft eyes, her voice neutral, "How long did it take you to plan that speech?"
Chandler looked at her nervously. Each second that ticked by felt like a millennium. "A couple hours."
Monica nodded slowly. "I didn't need to hear any of it." Chandler looked up at her, panic filling his eyes as quickly as it was filling his soul. "I don't need to be convinced. I'm already there."
"You mean?" he questioned, hopefully.
"I love you, too," she whispered reverently. The relief Chandler felt was tangible. It felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted off of his heart.
"God, you're amazing," he whispered, hugging her tightly, nuzzling into her hair, kissing the skin of her neck gently, before moving hips lips to meet hers. They both sighed at the contact they had been desperately craving. The kiss quickly intensified and they both knew this was what they had been waiting for.
"All that stuff you said earlier? About soulmates?" Monica reminded with a soft smile, after they broke their kiss, "I believe it now."
"Thank God for that," Chandler murmured into her hair. "This is the best Christmas present in the world," he told her. Their material gifts to one another lay abandoned on the coffee table.
Monica nodded in agreement. "It's like you were sent down to me, an angel from heaven," She breathed reverently, her head leaned against his chest.
A smile tugged at the corners of Chandler's mouth. "You have no idea."
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Merry Christmas guys! I hope a short and sweet Mondler get together is enough of a Christmas gift for you! :)
I'm off to celebrate Christmas with my own gifts, cookies (!!!) and Turkey! Yum :)
As always, please, please review and let me know what you think!
This is my first completed series in years! I hope I'm not too rusty. I'm considering adding an epilogue. An online friend and I were debating whether this needed one – I was thinking 'no,' for the record, as I've had the last lines in mind since the beginning of the fic and I quite like them as a final resting spot! But if enough people disagree, I might be swayed :P