A/N - thanks guys so much for reading and reviewing :o)

Chandler sighed in frustration as he fumbled with the shiny cufflinks. Finally getting them fastened, he glanced at himself in the mirror, yep, he looked as miserable as he felt. With a grimace he left the small bathroom and grabbed his tux jacket which was draped carelessly across Joey's white dog; it was ugly but made a good clothes horse.

He resentfully shrugged on the required jacket, feeling its heavy weight pressing onto his already over-burdened shoulders. Who the hell made people wear monkey suits to a bachelor party anyway? It was stupid.

"How cool is this?" Joey asked, a huge smile on his face as he stepped out of his bedroom. "A millionaire's bachelor party! Do you think he'll provide the money to put in the strippers' G-strings? Or, maybe he's already paid them so they are free...ohh with extras?"

He didn't want to be thinking about this.

"There may not be any strippers, man," he warned his friend as he adjusted his dumb bowtie. "It's a surprise, remember?"

And that really was the icing on the cake. No one knew what this bachelor party was actually going to involve. All they'd been told was to wear a damn tuxedo and be ready for 7p.m. sharp. The only thing he hoped was that there'd be lots and lots of alcohol wherever they went. He knew he'd need it to get through tonight. He was dreading it. More than dreading it, and the not knowing where they were going wasn't exactly helping his anxiety.

"What?" Joey asked panicked, "No strippers? But it's a bachelor party! There has to be strippers... I mean, it's the law."

Chandler wished his troubles were as simple as his roommate's.

"Pete's a millionaire," he reminded him, trying to keep the distaste from entering his voice. "He doesn't have to follow laws or normal conventions."

Joey still looked heart-broken at the prospect of there being no naked women tonight. He looked exactly how Chandler felt, just for a different reason. He couldn't care less if there were strippers there tonight. There could be topless playboy bunnies dancing around jewel-encrusted poles putting dollar bills into his underwear for all he cared. Nothing would make him enjoy tonight; nothing.

He didn't want to go. He really didn't want to go. Every fiber of his being was filled with utter dread and trepidation about this 'party'. Having to spend the entire evening watching and listening as everyone told Pete what a catch Monica was and how he'd bagged himself a winner. Hours and hours of keeping company with the green-eyed monster that he was so familiar with these days.

Could he do this? Any of this? Was he strong enough?

"Hey guys!" Ross excitedly bounced through the door, interrupting Chandler's internal self-doubts. "How cool do we look? I feel like James Bond." He made the classic Bond pose, making his fingers into a gun.

Chandler wished for a real gun right now. He offered what he hoped came across as a smile rather than a grimace as he resisted rolling his eyes.

"Do you think there'll be strippers, Ross?" Joey asked, clearly still very worried.

"I sure hope so!" Ross grinned, "although knowing Pete, he's probably flying us to Spain or something."

"Spanish strippers!" Joey said excitedly as Chandler felt cold-dread rush through him and settle heavily in the pit of his stomach.

He hadn't considered that, Pete taking them somewhere outside of New York. Taking them somewhere where he couldn't just escape easily, couldn't retreat back home to lick his wounds. But he should have considered it. It was totally something that Pete would do. This was bad. Very bad.

"Aw, look at you three all dressed up," Monica teased as she walked through the open apartment door. "You scrub up good."

Chandler glanced down at the floor, unable to fully accept the light-hearted compliment. He wished she truly thought he was handsome. Thought he was cute in a way that she couldn't resist, ripping the tux right off him. Unfortunately, she didn't; she saw him as a friend. It was Pete she'd want to rip the suit off later. God he hated this so much. Why was life so cruel?

"Are you ready for your bachelorette party?" Ross asked, kissing her cheek.

"Yep," she dazzled them with a wide smile. "It's gonna be amazing."

"Not as good as our Spanish strippers," Joey boasted, "they come with all the extras."

He watched as Monica's brow furrowed in confusion, "what?"

"Nothing," Chandler reassured her, wincing, "Just Joey's wild imagination; I'm sure it will be classy and respectable."

He was going to have the night from hell, he knew that much, it was inevitable, but Monica was going to have the fantastic night she deserved and not spend it worrying about her future husband being inappropriate.

"It better be," she muttered, her eyes meeting his briefly. "Keep an eye out for him?" she asked hesitantly, "make sure his brothers don't stitch him up too much? I need him in one piece for the wedding."

"Sure," he swallowed. He was unable to deny her anything, no matter how much he was hurting inside.

"Thanks," she smiled at him and for a moment all was right in his world again. Until she leant on his shoulder, leaning forwards to place the softest of kisses on his cheek and casually said, "you're such a good friend."

He closed his eyes as the usual pain rippled through him. He expected it now; it was nothing new. It usually crippled him at some point when she was talking to him or was close to him. Especially as the big day got closer, looming over him. He just had to ride it out and keep his mask in place. He should be pleased he was her friend, privileged even.

But, how he wanted so much more than that, so much more.

"Well, have fun guys...just not too much," she laughed as she left.

Fun. Yeah….so not gonna happen.

The three men in tuxedos stood on the sidewalk, Chandler with his hands in his pockets as he listened to his two friends behind him guess what would be happening during this extravagant party. He ran a hand through his hair for what felt like the hundreth time already, wishing that he could get started on drinking. He was hating this already.

"There really needs to be strippers!" Joey exclaimed suddenly, taking a step towards Chandler and grabbing his shoulders, "Strippers are excellent! If there aren't any we have to convince the man how awesome they are. Strippers man, strippers!"

Chandler turned to him swiftly, strippers were the last thing on his anxious mind, and Joey's hands felt they were imprisoning him, suffocating, "Okay, Joey, enough about the strippers!" he exploded, roughly escaping from his grasp, "Can you please just wait until we get wherever in the hell we're going to see if there's strippers there? Please? I'm sick of hearing about the damn strippers!"

Joey and Ross's eyes grew wide at Chandler's outburst and they took an involuntary step back from him, "Dude, what's wrong with you?" Ross asked.

Chandler sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. Did he really just snap at Joey? None of this was his fault. Monica getting married to Pete wasn't Joey's fault. His own heartbreak over the woman he loved wasn't Joey's fault. "I'm sorry," he said to both of them, "I just…" he needed an excuse that wouldn't give away his true feelings, "...have a headache." It was lame but it was the best his preoccupied mind could come up with. His two friends were still staring at him as the limousine pulled up to the sidewalk, parking there to pick them up. "I'm sorry," He said again, sounding as sincere as he possibly could.

Joey's shocked face dissipated as the driver walked around, opening the door for them to get in, standing beside it with his hands folded. Joey walked over to him and clapped down on his shoulder again, Chandler refrained from trying to free himself, "What you need is some stripper love."

Chandler bit his bottom lip so he wouldn't punch his friend, "I don't think so."

"Dude, I'm tellin' ya! It'll make you feel better, headache and all!" He reached out and grabbed Chandler's arms, shaking him a little, "You gotta trust the power of love making."

"Guys," Ross interrupted, leaning out of the backseat, "get in here! This is amazing!"

Much to Chandler's relief, Joey dropped his conversation about strippers and love making to get into the stretch limo. He took his last breaths of free air before nodding at the man waiting at the door; he felt like a condemned man as he climbed in, sitting on the opposite side of his friends, next to a guy he didn't know dressed in the same outfit as the rest of them.

Then the door slammed closed. He was trapped.

"Hey," the guy said, reaching for Chandler's hand to shake it, "I'm Jake, and this is Shane, we're Pete's brothers. "

Chandler really didn't care, but put his hand in Jake's, "Chandler Bing," he cleared his throat, trying to calm himself, "nice to meet you," he lied, shaking Shane's hand as well.

"Would you like a drink?" Shane asked him.

Thank god, he thought, "Yeah, a drink would be great," he said, "whiskey on the rocks." Shane nodded at him and began to make his drink with the mini bar.

Chandler accepted it gladly as Jake went into some story about Pete and something to do with their childhood. He wasn't listening. Instead he tilted the glass up, downing the small amount it held. He would definitely need more if he was going to make it through tonight.

About 30 minutes and 3 drinks later, the car stopped again and the five men climbed out of it, the smell of water immediately hitting Chandler's nostrils. Damn it, they were going out on the water, leaving dry land. Where he couldn't escape...well, not easily.

He ran a hand through his hair and forced himself to follow the rest of the group to the gigantic, completely over the top yacht. He begrudgingly climbed on, and apparently he was the last guest, because the boat began to move immediately. Chandler stuck his hands in his pockets, looking around at the 15-20 people in tuxedo's, most of them standing around talking to each other, a drink in their hands.

The bar, Chandler thought, I need to find the bar.

His thoughts were interrupted when the man in the all white tuxedo walked up to the new arrivals, "Hey Boys!" he exclaimed looking mightily happy, "so glad you guys finally got here. I was beginning to get worried."

"Yeah man, we wouldn't miss it," Ross told him, shaking Pete's hand.

Internally, Chandler scoffed. Yes, he would've gladly missed it. If he could've, "Chandler!" Pete said to him as he tried not to cringe, "how's that WENUS working out?" He couldn't help but roll his eyes at one of the conversations he and Pete had months ago.

He chuckled awkwardly, "Yeah, it's great, I guess." The other five men looked confused at their conversation, so he sighed, explaining it slowly, "weekly estimated net usage system. We use it at my company, Pete was one of the developers of it."

The other men nodded, but seemed to lose interest in it pretty quickly, which suited him fine. Pete finished talking to Joey and then rubbed his hands together, "Okay, so we've got booze, we've got cigars, we've got girls who take their clothes off, we've got music, we've got cards, and we've got food." Joey attached himself to Pete, bro hugging him tightly.

"I love you, man. You have everything I love in one place! This is heaven!" Pete chuckled, patting Joey's back.

Chandler walked off from them, unable to share Joey's excitement about the party. The boat was beautiful, he'd give him that much, but nothing else excited him. He finally found the bar, positioned in the room in the center of the boat. He ordered another drink, needing the strong substance in his mouth again. He downed the drink and ordered another one from the man in a red suit jacket.

He jumped a little when Joey came from behind, "Isn't this awesome?" His friend's smile was from one side of his face to the other.

Chandler sat his glass down and nodded to the bartender for another glass of the presumably expensive whiskey, turning back to his friend, "Yeah, pretty cool," he said, again trying to add some enthusiasm in his voice.

Joey ordered two beers, one was for Ross, he guessed. He watched Chandler as he brought the glass to his lips, taking only a small sip of the brown liquid. Joey stepped closer to him, "Are you sure you're alright? You're not really acting like yourself lately."

He didn't look at his friend. He couldn't. If he did, he was pretty sure Joey could figure him out. Chandler was looking at the wall, but was answering Joey by nodding his head. He was saved from any further questions when Ross yelled for the two of them to join a poker game. "You go ahead," he told his friend, "I'll play a little later." At Joey's stare, he cleared his throat, "still got that headache, you know."

"All that liquor probably isn't helping, dude."

Chandler looked back at Joey as he seemed to drop it and move to the big table near the front of the boat. His friend was wrong.

The liquor was helping; he just wished it could help more.

He stuck a hand in his pocket and took a few steps away from the bar. He grabbed a cigar from an expensive looking box, walking towards the back of the boat where the fewest people were. He wasn't in a social mood. He just wanted to be alone with his solemn thoughts.

A blonde woman blocked his path; she had curly hair and was dressed in a skimpy outfit. Chandler tried to move past her, but she moved in front of him again, "Hi cutie," she said to him, "I'm Ellie."

Chandler's blue eyes met her brown ones, and he lifted the corner of his mouth, "Hi. Bye. Excuse me, please."

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" she asked him, her voice silky, "Why don't you have a seat and let me do a little dance for you?"

Chandler sighed, "no thanks," he said to her.

"Oh come on blue eyes," she replied, "let me cheer you up. I'm very good at what I do."

He so didn't need this.

"I'm sure you are, I'm just really not in the mood."

She brought her hand up to the side of his face and dragged her nails up to his hair, "Let me get you in the mood, sailor."

He tilted his head, making her hand lose contact with it, "No thank you." He said again a little firmer, finally walking past her to his original destination.

A few minutes passed and Chandler was out of whiskey again, briefly wondering if the bartender would give him the whole bottle so he could refill it without having to keep going back to the bar. He took a long drag of the cigar, blowing the smoke into the cool night air. It wasn't really the cigarette he wanted, but it would do in a pinch.

He brought his foot up to rest on the bottom bar of the railing, leaning over it to rest on his elbows. He smiled at the memory of watching a long chick flick about a guy and girl on a boat who fell in love. His situation was pretty similar to that story, actually. Except his love was one sided and hopefully he wouldn't die at the end. The movie never seemed to end, but he'd watched it with Monica, so he hadn't cared.

Monica.

"Aw, there's a smile." He heard a voice say and he looked over at the same blonde woman from before. Chandler didn't reply, so she spoke again, "Do you want to tell me what's wrong?"

Chandler shook his head, "Nothing's wrong." That was always his reply. It had to be.

She leaned backwards on the rail right next to him, "I've found in these situations that it helps to talk to somebody."

"I'm fine," he told her, "there is no situation."

She turned to him more, a disbelieving look on her face. "Look, I don't know you, I don't know any of your friends. It'll be good for you to vent. I don't even know your name."

He took another long drag out of the cigar, "It's Chandler."

"Chandler." She said, reaching for the brown thing between his fingers, "Can I try this?" He handed it to her without hesitation. She made a face, "That's why mostly men smoke these things."

Chandler laughed a little, "They're not my favorite."

Ellie watched him for a second, "You have a beautiful smile," she said, "and as I've hardly seen it since you got here and you're on a beautiful yacht with everything men love to do, my guess is that you haven't smiled in a while."

He looked over at her, puzzled at how quickly she was figuring him out; he didn't like being predictable. He looked out over the water again towards the lit up New York skyline, "There's not much to smile about these days."

She put her arm on his, leaning over the railing like he was, "Women troubles?"

His eyes flicked down to her hand and back up to her face, "Sort of." He finally said.

"Girlfriend or wife?" She asked.

Chandler scoffed, letting his head hang, "Neither."

"Oh, no," Ellie replied, "that's the worst kind of heartache."

He chuckled dryly; he already knew that it was, "Yeah."

"You should tell her how you feel," Ellie said, causing another look from him, "girls like that."

Chandler shook his head, "it isn't that simple."

"Nothing ever is when it comes to love." She leaned over him and kissed him on the cheek when she heard laughter getting closer to them. "Sounds like you're missing out on all the fun."

"I can live with that," he shrugged slightly as he continued to gaze out onto the waters surrounding them.

"You really have it bad, don't you?" she frowned.

He shrugged again and remained silent, wishing that if he closed his eyes he would be able to hear the waves crashing against the side of the boat instead of the bass of the pounding music and the constant laughter.

"Why don't you tell me what the complication is? Sometimes it can be fixed."

Chandler turned his face to her, contemplating her and her offer for a moment.

"There you are!"

He almost grinned at the other man's timing. Almost.

"He's the complication," he muttered quietly, more to himself than her, before he turned to acknowledge the smug bastard that approached. He had one of his brothers with him but Chandler couldn't remember his name.

"Chandler, the pretty women are here to entertain us...not chat to," he joked, throwing an arm over Chandler's shoulder to get closer to Ellie. "Hi."

He couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like she grimaced before smiling seductively, "would you like a dance Mr. Becker?"

"How can a man refuse such an offer from such a beautiful woman?" Pete smiled, taking her hand and leading her away from Chandler, leaving him with the random brother.

"How lucky is he?" the nameless man asked as his eyes followed Pete, "He always manages to get the pretty ones."

Yeah, like that had nothing to do with the man's money. Chandler bit his lips to stop the sarcastic remark from leaving his mouth.

"And that one he's engaged to, that Monica girl? I don't know if you've met her but man, she is hot, like proper smoking hot! I'd never do that to my brother or anything, but just between us, I wouldn't say no to tapping that!"

Chandler's jaw tightened and he tried to keep a control over his breathing. He couldn't start some bar brawl on a middle of a boat. Especially as this guy looked quite big and Joey wasn't around for backup. No, he had to get control of himself; Monica wasn't even his to get jealous over. Finally, he flicked his spent cigar into the water, "Excuse, me," he spat out as he none too gently pushed past the man with only one destination in mind.

He'd been right about tonight, it was already proving to be the hell he'd expected and even worse...there was no escape. He was trapped on this horrible boat with these horrible people all evening. He spared a glance at his watch and groaned. How had less than an hour gone by? It was going to be an extremely long night.

With a heavy sigh he headed to the bar. He had a feeling this was gonna be his favorite room tonight. He may be trapped with idiots, with no way out of here, but least there was his beloved open bar...he planned on taking full advantage.

He just prayed it would be enough to get him through tonight.

TBC... please let us know your thoughts...