"I don't know why we came here", She tells him in frustration. They've been shopping for hours now and the Sharper Image store is just the latest in a string of establishments sure to have nothing to suit their purposes.

"Well, what about this?" He asks, gesturing to yet another inappropriate selection?

"What is that even?" She asks in exasperation.

"It rewinds your VHS tapes! And it looks like a Porsche!" He explains excitedly.

"I don't know. That seems more like something up Joey's alley.

"Okay, okay," he concedes. However, unwilling to admit defeat he pipes up a moment later leaning against his latest suggestion, "What about this?"

"A foosball table?" She asks in disdain. "That seems more like something up your alley. You know we're shopping for an engagement gift, not Ross' bar mitzvah, right? Besides, he sucks at foosball. I could always kick his butt growing up," she adds smugly a moment later.

"I bet you could," Chandler tells her proudly. They continue milling around the store, Monica certain they'll never find the right gift; Chandler certain they will.

"Oh, what about this?" He suggests anew, gesturing to a home karaoke machine. He presses play on the cassette player and begins bobbing his head in time to the music that rings out loudly. "The perfect thing! Everyone needs one of these!"

She is trying to ignore him and the introduction of Endless Love that is currently playing, but he is having none of it. "Monica," he states loudly into the microphone in his best impersonation of a grocery store clerk. "Please report to me, Monica."

"There's only you in my life. The only thing that's bright." Chandler croons alongside Lionel Richie, beckoning her over, surprisingly in tune. Reluctantly she joins him at the microphone, charmed in spite of herself.

Diana Ross' half of the duet begins, and she misses the first few bars trying to orient herself to the words scrolling across the screen. Finally she catches up and sings, "You're every breath I take. You're every step I take."

She's horribly off key, but Chandler doesn't seem to mind, smiling happily at her and joining in for the shared duet, "And I…want to share all my love with you. No one else will do."

She's getting into it now, seduced by Chandler's enthusiasm. Closing her eyes she unabashedly belts out, "And your eyes…your eyes…your eyes. They tell me how much you care."

Too late, she realizes she's singing alone. Opening her own eyes, she notices Chandler is frozen in a grimace, staring in front of him.

"What's the matter?" She asks concerned. When he doesn't answer, she adds in embarrassment, "It's my voice, isn't it? It's terrible, I know. Do they have any Tanya Tucker? That's way more in my key. Chandler?" She asks after a moment, realizing he's stopped listening to her.

"It's Kathy," he interrupts her in a whisper, eyes still staring straight ahead in shock.

"Kathy?" She blurts in surprise, right into the microphone.

The sound must alert their presence to the other woman, because she and the man she's with make their way to where Chandler and Monica are standing.

"How are you, Chandler?" Kathy asks hesitantly. Monica can't help but stare in fascination at the woman who's caused her friend so much heartache.

"Fine, fine," Chandler answers sounding anything but.

"This is…" Kathy hesitates here before finishing simply, "This is Nick."

"Nick." Chandler manages to repeat in greeting whilst accepting Nick's outstretched hand.

They stand around awkwardly for a moment, before Chandler seems to remember Monica's presence and he gestures to her in introduction. "This is Monica. Monica, this is Kathy…and Nick."

"Hi," Monica nods politely.

"Well," Kathy says finally after several awkward moments. "It was nice to see you again. See you around."

"Yep," Chandler says strained. "Bye, Nick," he spits out the name.

"You okay?" Monica hazards after Kathy and Nick have departed.

"Fine." Chandler responds, strain evident in his voice. "Perfect."

"Yeah?" She asks doubtfully.

"I'm fine," he tells her again finally seeming to shake himself from the trance he's been in since spotting Kathy. "It had to happen at some point. I mean in a city of 8 million people, you're bound to end up singing Endless Love in front of your ex-wife...and Nick," again Chandler seems to choke on the other man's name. "So it happened. And now I'm fine. Though I never seem to run into Whitney Houston," he adds angrily, storming to the store exit.

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"Gee. Thanks guys," Ross says unconvincingly as he turns the box around to look at it from another angle. "What is it, exactly?"

"It's a car that rewinds your videotapes. I know it's dumb," she concedes a moment later barely attending to her brother. She sneaks a look over at Chandler, who sits alone staring morosely out of the apartment window. After their encounter with Kathy, she'd grabbed the least offensive of the many items in the store and hurriedly purchased it. By the time she'd been able to chase after him, she'd found Chandler over at a nearby newspaper stand, working his way through a recently purchased pack of cigarettes. She'd managed to get him to put out the one he'd been smoking and join her in bringing their gift to Ross and Emily's apartment. But she knows for a fact he still has the pack in the pocket of his windbreaker and has no delusions as to his intentions when he excuses himself from the apartment a moment later.

"Gimme a sec," she tells her brother as she makes to follow Chandler.

"He's had a very long hard day," she adds as Ross looks after their friend in confusion and then back to her for an explanation.

She finds him, as expected, on the stoop below, cigarette in hand. "You're smoking again?

"Well technically, earlier today I was smoking again. Now I'm just still smoking," he tells her impudently.

She just glares in response, so he adds apologetically, "I know, I know. I made a mistake buying these." He drops the cigarette from between his fingers and makes a show of stomping it out into the concrete steps. "Happy?" He asks, the bite still present in his tone.

"Chandler," she chastises, "you're going to need to find a way to get over Kathy without taking up smoking again. Remember how hard it was to quit last time?"

"Jesus, Monica. I know, okay? I just ran into her again. We're not all robots. Can I get like 5 minutes to process here? Some of us have human emotions we need to express from time to time."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks offended.

"It means, I don't think you're the best person to be giving out life advice right now," he yells back. "You're relationship of 5 years ends and you're over it after a week of cleaning the bathroom. Excuse me if I'm having a little more trouble getting over my marriage."

She knows they're only having this argument because he's upset over their run in with Kathy, but she's not as sure he doesn't mean the insults he's hurtling her way. Hearing the criticisms from him hurts her more than she'd like to admit so she barks back angrily, "And you think wearing sweat pants all day, visiting strip clubs, and slowly killing yourself with these things is going to help?" She snatches the pack from his hands before he has the opportunity to light another cigarette. "I've got news for you Chandler, you're going to have to move to New Jersey because you've been to every strip club in New York and I don't see that making Kathy a distant memory!"

Her fists are clenched in her pockets, her face is warm, and her breath is coming out in quick huffs. Though he's irritated her plenty over the years of knowing him off and on, she doesn't think she's really been angry with him like this since he'd called her fat in the diner all those years ago.

"Are you finished?" He asks quietly.

"Yes." She admits, still working to get her temper under control.

"Can I say something?" He asks calmly.

"Yes." She whispers, trying not to shed the tears that have been threatening since they've started arguing.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He tells her gathering her up in his arms. She accepts his embrace and finally lets herself cry into his shoulder. "I promise I won't smoke anymore okay," he vows holding her at arms length. "And if I do, I promise I'll do a much better job of hiding if from you," he jokes making her laugh aloud through her tears.

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"I'm getting married tomorrow. A-whoo-hoo!" An excited Ross exclaims happily.

"Yeah you are," Chandler humors him with a friendly pat on the back. "You know, I'm glad you're having this rehearsal dinner. I so rarely get to practice my meals before I eat them."

"Hardy har har," Ross replies sarcastically before telling him seriously, "Hey, I'm really glad you could be here. I missed you last time when I married Carol."

"Thanks man," Chandler tells him earnestly before adding jokingly, "But you shouldn't have gone through all this trouble of getting remarried just to have me at your wedding."

Ross scoffs good-naturedly at this and the 2 men stand together companionably, taking in the festivities in the hotel's large dining room.

"Hey is that Richard over there?" Chandler asks in concern a moment later, spotting Monica's ex-boyfriend among the crowd of well-wishers. "Does Monica know he's here?"

"Well, yeah," Ross tells him. "She helped with the seating after all. I mean he's my dad's best friend, you know? It's not like I couldn't invite him."

"Yeah, I get that," Chandler reassures him. "I'm just worried tonight might be kind of tough on her. Where is she anyway?" He asks, realizing it's been awhile since he's seen Monica milling around.

"I think Rachel said she was going up to her room for a bit before dinner. We all rented rooms for the weekend."

"Do you know her room number? I think I'm going to go check on her," Chandler asks, quickly downing his remaining champagne and passing off the empty flute to one of the waiters moving through the room. Something about Richard's appearance and Monica's absence has him unnerved and he's pretty sure he won't be able to enjoy himself till he's made sure she's alright. "See you in a bit," he tells Ross noting Monica's room number and heading toward the elevators.

His worst fears are confirmed as his knock at the door is met by a sobbing Monica.

"Hey, what's the matter?" He asks in concern.

"She's pregnant," Monica exclaims through her tears, moving to allow Chandler to enter the hotel room.

"Who?" Chandler asks in total confusion. "Emily?"

"No, his girlfriend," Monica explains taking a tissue from the box she's carrying and loudly blowing her running nose. "Richard's girlfriend! She's pregnant. I just saw them downstairs."

"Come here," Chandler says, bringing her into his arms for a hug.

"I need a Kleenex," she tells him miserably when her attempt to pull another tissue from the box comes up empty.

"Okay," he tells her, gently leading her to the bed and depositing her on the end before retrieving a second box of tissues from the bathroom. He sits beside her, handing her the fresh box of tissues. She removes yet another and flings it behind her onto the floor after dabbing at her watery eyes. The floor of the hotel room is littered with her discarded tissues and it's this disarray from the normally excessively tidy Monica that makes him more disconcerted than anything else about her manner so far.

"We're downstairs talking," she begins recounting her and Richard's meeting. "How's the practice? How's Michelle? Oh, did I meet his date? That's her over there. Yep, exciting news. She's due in November." Monica barely gets this last sentence out before her body is racked once again by sobs. For a moment she gives into her misery and crawls along the bed, lying down and resting her head upon the pillow. He eases himself onto the bed as well and lies beside her, lifting his arm above them to gently push her thick dark hair from her face. "All this time I've been telling myself we split up because he didn't want a family. But the truth is he didn't want a family with me."

"If you could take him back right now, would you?" Chandler asks.

"No!" She exclaims resolutely. "But why didn't he want a family with me? Is something the matter with me? Is this why I don't have a boyfriend?" She asks sounding much more vulnerable than Chandler's ever heard her before.

"Nothing's wrong with you," he tells her sincerely.

"I'm too independent," she proclaims beginning to list her many perceived faults.

"You're a self-sufficient, together lady," he counters.

"I'm too controlling," she argues.

"You just pay attention to the details."

"I'm difficult," she continues.

"No way," he scoffs. "Being with you is like being on vacation."

"I'm high maintenance. You know I am," she insists before he can counter.

"Okay, you're a little high maintenance," he concedes. "But that's just because you're passionate and that's a good thing," he assures her tugging her even closer so that her head is resting on his shoulder.

She lies there for several moments sniffling quietly into his lapel before pulling away to swipe at the fabric of his jacket. "I'm ruining your suit," she apologizes.

"That's okay," he reassures her. "I wasn't that fond of it anyway."

He stretches a bit to kiss the end of her nose, which wins him a watery smile. He returns it and they lay alongside one another quietly staring into each other's eyes. The seconds tick on, but still he's reluctant to move and break the strange spell that's come over them.

Now its Monica's turn to bridge the gap between them to place a very gentle kiss on his lips, her eyes still open, never leaving his. The kiss is, in and of itself, harmless. Barely a touch and not unlike the friendly peck they shared last New Year's. But there's no friendly banter or jokes between them now and the energy buzzing between them seems deafening to him in the quiet hotel room.

He knows he should move, sit up and say something, make a joke, anything to pull them back from the brink where they find themselves at the moment but he still can't make himself do it. Before this moment, he'd never even realized he'd wanted to kiss her. But now, he's finding that it takes all of his willpower not to move across the tiny space between them and kiss her for real. In the end he doesn't have to make the decision at all. She's the one who breaks first, leaning up and kissing him hard on the lips. He loses himself entirely in the sensation, marveling at how losing oneself could feel so very much like being found.