A/N -sorry for the slight delay with this chapter. Thanks again for all the reviews, much appreciated.
Joey and Ross entered apartment 20, looking at the girls who'd started making frozen margaritas, "Hey hey!" Joey exclaimed. He looked at the three of them, fully-clothed, the smile fading from his face, "where is the lingerie? Chandler said there was lingerie!"
They laughed, "Joey I just tried one on," Monica told him, "it wasn't a modelling session."
"Well try it on again! I wanna see!"
"I don't," Ross cut in.
"You stay out of this," Joey told him, turning to the paleontologist.
Monica laughed, "The next guy to see me in the after the wedding clothes will be the guy that I will be in the most beautiful hotel suite in the world with after the wedding."
Joey ran one of his hands through his hair, "fine. I understand that you want to save it for your husband, whatever. But Rachel and Phoebe you two aren't getting married!" he wiggled his eyebrows.
"Now that's an idea I could get next to," Ross said, walking over to where Monica was filling the blender with tequila.
"Not happening," Rachel said firmly.
Phoebe winked at Joey, "maybe later."
Ross pointed to the blender in awe, "you didn't get enough liquor last night?"
Monica smiled up at her big brother, "no, not really. I'm sure we didn't drink as much as you guys. Pete is still really hungover...despite what he promised, so I told him to stay home and try and get over it. We're gonna enjoy a girls night in before I have to move out."
Ross chuckled, "wow, I can't believe you guys can stand to be apart this close to the wedding. And you can't see each other tomorrow after the rehearsal so that's really two days in a row. It was like I had to be around Carol. Two days would have killed me."
Monica stopped adding margarita mix to the blender to look at him. She thought about his words for a moment. It didn't bother her at all that she wouldn't see Pete tonight, was that weird? She cleared her throat, "well maybe Pete and I are just more secure with our relationship than you and Carol were."
"We were together a lot longer than you and Pete," Ross shook his head, "and, no, yeah our marriage ended badly, but I was crazy about her back then." He shrugged a shoulder, "but every relationship is different I guess."
He left his sister's side, sitting down at the round table with Rachel and Phoebe. Monica stared at the wall behind the blender a slight frown marring her features. What did he mean by that?
"I don't hear the blender Miss soon-to-be Mrs. Becker," Rachel said, holding out her hand, expecting a margarita to be placed in it.
Mrs Becker. She still wasn't sure about taking his name…Monica Becker?
"Will you still feed me and Chandler?" Joey asked out of the blue, as he opened the fridge in hunt of some food.
"No," she frowned, "not unless you're going to come over to Pete's every morning. And if you do, you won't be able to wear just your t-shirt and boxers...his neighbors are a little higher class."
"Oh, can't you use some of Pete's money to keep this fridge well stocked? You don't want us to starve," Joey whined as he closed the fridge door.
"You won't starve," she tried to joke but there was an odd feeling of unease rising in her stomach as she thought of life after the wedding. When it all settled down she wouldn't live here. Wouldn't be involved in their daily lives. Wouldn't get the random morning, afternoon, evening and nighttime visits from the gang. It felt a little weird...but it was silly; it would be fine, of course it would. "I'll leave you with some cooking instructions."
"Yeah right," Joey scoffed, "Rachel burns everything, Chandler can only cook pancakes and I grew up with 7 women...we don't cook."
"Then I'll leave you with takeout menus."
He rolled his eyes, "funny….fine, so if there's not going to be any lingerie being tried on, and there's no decent food..."
"Yeah there's really no point," Phoebe laughed, finishing the thought for Joey. Food and women; his two greatest pleasures.
"Well have fun," Ross waved, "we'll go see if Chandler's still alive."
"Make sure he's alright?" Monica called after them. "He seemed really...off earlier."
Joey winced knowing exactly what the problem was but merely nodded. He threw a quick look at Phoebe, remembering Chandler's earlier words but there was nothing on her face to indicate she also knew the reason behind Chandler's earlier 'offness'.
The boys left and Monica stared at the closed door for a moment, "do you think I should go check on him?" she asked, "he hasn't really been himself lately and earlier-"
"Monica," Phoebe interrupted, "he was hungover and you were standing practically naked in front of him -he's a man. Of course he was acting strange."
"I know but maybe-"
"Mon," Rachel cut in, taking the lead from Phoebe, "we haven't got much opportunities for girl nights left so forget about it, ok? Chandler will still be there in the morning. He'll probably be less hungover and you can talk to him then. Just enjoy tonight!"
Reluctantly Monica nodded, "ok," she sighed, trying to forget Chandler for a while, "who wants some margaritas?"
"So what do you think it's going to be like, waking up on Sunday morning as Mrs. Pete Becker?" Rachel asked a while later. "Are you scared? I was terrified when it was me and Barry."
Mrs Pete Becker. Mrs Monica Becker. Monica Geller.
Monica shook off the weird feeling and forced a chuckle, "I don't know," she admitted quietly, "I haven't really had time to think about it much. With all the planning and my phone constantly ringing with questions from the wedding planner, it's been crazy these last couple of months. I've thought more about the actual day than the afterwards...is that strange?"
"Noooo," Rachel frowned, "I don't think so. As long as you've thought a bit about it and you're looking forward to the happily ever after. Looking forward to your life with Pete."
Monica swallowed, glancing down and playing with her engagement ring. She was looking forward to being with Pete, wasn't she? After being a bride? Pete was a great guy, he was nice and made her feel loved.
"I'm not saying I never want to get married," Phoebe disturbed her musings, "because I'm sure one day I will, but it's kinda hard to imagine isn't it? Spending the rest of your life with one person? He'll be the only guy you ever kiss again or have sex with. You'll see him every morning when you wake up, he's there when you go to bed. I don't think I've ever had that. I've had guys I liked and even a couple that I've been in love with, but to actually want to spend the rest of my life with them? Forever? No, I haven't found that."
Monica frowned, letting Phoebe's words sink in. Forever was suddenly sounding a little more scary than it had before. The idea of marriage and security was always something she'd wanted and craved. Now it was almost here; coming up fast. Now it was suddenly a very real reality and no longer just the hypothetical dream she'd had from the age of five...now it seemed a little daunting.
Suddenly she could understand Chandler's fear of commitment. She'd always thought he was just being ridiculous and crazy but now it clicked and she just got it. Forever was a very long time. A big thing to get wrong.
"That's how I knew I couldn't be with Barry," Rachel added her two cents worth. "I liked him but not enough to be with him forever."
There was that word again. Forever.
She shook her head, trying to ignore her doubts. It was just cold feet - everyone got them before getting married. Pete was a good, honest, decent guy. He wanted to look after her and be with her. That's what made a good husband though. Right?
"What made you realize Pete was 'the one'?" Phoebe asked her.
"He's a good guy, looks after me, treats me like a princess," she shrugged a little.
"It sounds like you're describing Chandler, not your soon to be husband," Rachel scoffed, "come on we want real reasons. Like he gives you goosebumps from just a look, or you smile stupidly just thinking about him."
"And," Phoebe continued dreamily, "you think about him all day and you can't even wait for your shift to finish before you have to phone to tell him you love him."
"And your heart is just so happy you think it will explode with joy," Rachel continued, "and he's that perfect mix of best friend with benefits."
"You guys watch too many movies," Monica shook her head as she took another mouthful of her cocktail. "Real life isn't like that. I love Pete and we're getting married."
"No goosebumps or butterflies?" Rachel frowned.
"Doesn't happen all the time in the real world," Monica informed them, "and no my pupils won't turn into little cartoon hearts when I see him next either."
The girls looked at each other.
"Mon," Rachel said carefully, "it should be like that. You've been together for like a year. You should still be in the 'honeymoon' stage...especially if you're getting married."
"Look, our relationship is fine," Monica said a little more defensively than she wanted.
"Fine?" Rachel raised an eyebrow unimpressed, not listening to the warning in Monica's tone.
"Yes fine, great, fabulous; whatever adjectives you wanna use."
It fell silent for a moment, an uncomfortable tension in the air that hadn't been there a moment ago.
"So," Phoebe ventured, trying to steer the conversation onto happier ground, "it's still hard to believe it's only two days away. You'll be walking down the aisle in two days in that beautiful dress! You'll be a wife." She hoped wedding talk might cheer up her friend and get rid of the unwanted atmosphere.
Monica nodded back absently, "yeah, it's kind of surreal." She still sounded a little thoughtful.
"Then you'll be having a kid and then another kid," Rachel added quickly, also wanting to help lift her mood, "and you're going to be living in this big beautiful house, never having to work again in your life."
Monica turned her head, confused by Rachel's statement, "what? I want to work."
Her friend's mouth hung open, "really?"
"Yes," Monica said, "I'm not going to sit at home all day."
"Well you'll have the children to take care of."
Monica took a long swig of her drink, "well Pete and I decided to wait about five years before we try for a baby, so we'll have that argument when the time comes." It was one of the few topics they had talked about regarding life after the wedding.
Phoebe turned her head, confused, "five years? That's crazy. You've wanted a baby for like ever. You broke up with Richard because he didn't want a baby. Now that you have a chance to have one you're going to wait for five years? Why?"
"It's what we agreed on," the bride to be shrugged a shoulder, slightly defensive, "it's not set in stone or anything but if I've been waiting this long for a baby what's another five years? At least I've found someone to have one with." Monica stood from her seat, grabbing her glass, "anybody need a refill?" she was a little fed up with these questions.
The other two women held their empty glasses up for Monica to take with her to the kitchen. When she was out of earshot, Phoebe leaned closer to Rachel, "why do I get the feeling this five year plan isn't really Monica's idea?"
Rachel nodded, "maybe. She has wanted to have a baby since forever."
"Yeah! And five years is a crazy long time! Do you think she's thought enough about actually being married?"
"I'm not sure," Rachel murmured a little concerned. It hadn't occurred to her to actually talk to Monica about this. She'd assumed Monica would have considered it all as part of the proposal. "She hasn't really spoken about after the wedding...just the wedding details. Should we talk to her?"
"Maybe not now," Phoebe pulled a face. "Maybe wait until she's drunker or a little less defensive otherwise we'll put her into stubborn mode."
"True," Rachel smiled slightly, knowing only too well how stubborn these Gellers could get. "Fine, we'll play it by ear but we need to talk to her soon. The wedding is 2 days away!"
Monica returned to the living room, handing the other girls their drinks. Sitting in the corner of the couch, she pulled her knees up to her chest.
Phoebe bit her lip, still perplexed by what Monica said not five minutes ago. She knew Monica didn't want that. Baby talk was different to marriage talk...right?
"So, tell me again about the baby delay?" Phoebe asked carefully, ignoring the look Rachel threw her.
Monica rolled her eyes, "because he's at the peak of his career, ya know? If we had a baby straight away it could risk his business. Besides, it gives me a chance to work at my own career."
"Monica," Rachel protested, "you're head chef at a brand-new restaurant that your fiance bought you. Your boss is gonna be your husband...you don't have to work on that."
"I got that job because I'm a good chef," Monica argued, hating anyone ever implying otherwise. She'd worked damn hard at her career. Paid her dues at that horrible diner with those fake boobs. She deserved her position and not because of any positions she did in the bedroom.
"I know you did," Rachel soothed, instantly regretting her choice of words, hitting a nerve.
"She means you'll have job security," Phoebe tried, "and if your career means that much to you, can't you just get a nanny?"
Monica shrugged and Phoebe realized that she'd been right earlier; it was best to drop it until Monica was a little more relaxed. This party needed cheering up again, and fast, "how about a stripper?" she suggested out of the blue, "I'm sure I can find one in the yellow pages!"
Monica finally chuckled, "no thanks."
"Oooh how about twister?" Phoebe suggested as the other two groaned.
As Monica excused herself to use the bathroom Rachel looked over at Phoebe, "so…"
"So….we drop it for now," Phoebe agreed. "Let's get her drunk and happy and go from there."
"Sounds like a plan," Rachel grinned. "Get me another glass!"
A little while passed and the plan seemed to be working. Monica was definitely calmer and relaxed... and coincedently the margarita pitcher was empty again. Monica began making their fifth pitcher, the two other girls happy tipsy in the living room. The mood had been well and truly lifted. She began pouring the tequila into the blender, a little more than necessary of the alcohol on top of the ice, "whoops!"
Rachel stood and walked over to her friend in the kitchen, still laughing about something that was said at least ten minutes earlier, "Mon, what are you doing? That's too much liquor!" They wanted her a little drunk not passed out.
Monica lazily waved a hand at her, "we probably won't be able to tell a difference!"
Across the hall, Chandler sat up in his bed, rubbing his face with both hands. The room spun for a second, and he shut his eyes again. He opened them, hoping this time the room would stay still. It did, so he scooted to the edge of the bed and stood from it. Karma was being a true pain in the butt, as he still had a headache. He walked out of his room and headed to the bathroom.
The door was closed, so he lifted his fist and knocked on the door, "oh, you're up!" Joey said through the door.
Chandler rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, "yeah."
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm not having this conversation through the door. Hurry up."
"Oh, dude," came the muffled reply, "it's going to be a little while. I had those falafel's on 3rd."
Chandler's face twisted with disgust, "that's sick, man. I'll use the girls'."
He tried to shake the picture of what Joey just told him out of his head as he crossed the hall, opening the door to find the three of them throwing fits at something that must have been really funny. He took in the cocktail glasses, abandoned twister game and the overworked blender; he simply raised an eyebrow. "Girls' night in?" he guessed.
Monica heard the door close and stopped laughing long enough to stand and make her way over to him. She stumbled when she got close enough to him that he had to catch her.
"Whoa, you okay?" he asked.
She also found that incredibly funny, "yeah, I'm gonna be a bride!"
He rolled his eyes, feeling his stomach knot up again at the mention of the ceremony coming up. He pulled up on her, trying to help her stand up straight on her feet again, "I know that, but are you okay now?"
Monica laughed again, "Yes! Phoebe was telling us this joke," Monica stopped her sentence to laugh hysterically again, "and it is so funny, you gotta hear it!" She pulled on his arm, wanting him to follow her into the living room, "Phoebe, tell ChanChan that joke!"
He raised his eyes at the sudden nickname. "I really just came over to…"
"Oh, come on Chandler, pleeeeeeease?" Monica said to him, "You'll really love it!" She threw her arms around him, pressing her head against his chest.
Chandler looked down at the top of her head. How could he possibly resist this woman? Who cared if his bladder was about to burst? There was no way he wouldn't give her anything she asked for, "okay, sure."
Phoebe sat up on the couch, looking critically at Chandler for a moment before taking another sip of her margarita, "okay, here goes, here goes. What do you call a lost wolf?"
He lifted an eyebrow, all hopes lost that this joke would actually be funny at all, "I don't know, what?" He looked down at Monica's hands, who still held onto his t-shirt. It felt amazing and it took a lot of effort to ignore the effect of her being so close and pay attention to Phoebe.
"A where wolf!" Rachel said loudly, and the three of them went into a laughing fit again. Monica almost knocked Chandler over, gripping his t-shirt as she laughed into his chest.
He lifted her up again, "oh yeah. That one will be going into the guinness world record book, for sure." He shook his head in disbelief as they continued to laugh, "wow, okay. Monica, honey, why don't you have a seat here." He already missed her touching him, but if he didn't get to the bathroom soon there was going to be a problem. " You three should probably slow down on the drinking. Take it from me, you won't appreciate it tomorrow."
"Chandler!" Monica called him right before he got to the bathroom door.
"Yes?" He asked, turning to face her.
"Where are you going? We need you here!" She whined.
"I'm going to the little boy's room," Chandler pointed with his thumb, "what do you need me for, can it wait?"
Monica groaned like it was obvious, "to tell us which lingerie to wear!"
He rolled his eyes again as he walked into the restroom, her laughter showing she was teasing him. He'd spent hours trying to scrub those images from his mind. But he couldn't. He feared they'd be with him taunting him forever.
After finishing, he walked back out to find the three of them in a huddle, whispering something to each other and letting out soft giggles.
Chandler chuckled loud enough so they could hear him, "so, I'm gonna go," he said.
"Wait!" Monica said quickly. "You'll like this one too!" she was laughing so hard again and Chandler couldn't help but smile sadly at her. She was even more beautiful and radiant when she laughed.
"Shoot," he finally shrugged when Monica's laughing fit came to an end. She was bright red, tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried to compose herself.
He wished it was him making her this happy and not the alcohol. He wished for the hundredth time since she'd showed him her engagement ring, that he was in Pete's shoes. Not the money or fame, no he wasn't interested in that, just the woman. How did Pete manage to steal her heart? How had he let him? Why hadn't he realized earlier how completely and utterly in love with the woman he was before it was too late?
And it was too late.
He sighed at his melancholy thoughts and tried to focus his attention back onto the woman of his dreams, who was trying not to laugh again. He should be happy that she was happy. And she obviously was.
Chandler could feel Phoebe's eyes on him, studying him again. Had she somehow picked up on his negative thoughts? God, he hoped not. He couldn't deal with Phoebe and Joey. Really couldn't.
"So," he said quickly, ensuring he didn't make eye contact with the Phoebe, "are you gonna tell me this joke or am I supposed to read your mind?"
That unfortunately caused another fit of giggles as Monica started picturing Psychic Chandler reading their fortunes. Oy.
"Ok, I'm gonna go," he sighed, Phoebe was still watching him and it would be safer to get away from her and from a cute drunk Monica.
"No no no," Monica was on her feet, barely, her wobbling legs managing to carry her to the door. "You will think this one is amazing because you like funny. You're funny Chandler."
"Of course I am," he said dryly as she poked him in the chest, a little harder than she'd probably intended. "And ow!"
He wished she saw him as more than the funny one of the group, but he couldn't dwell on that right now. She was standing so close to him again and Phoebe's eyes were taking in every interaction with interest. Damn.
"Sorry." She looked anything but, her gorgeous blue eyes sparkling mischievously. He simply nodded, wanting to get out of there. "Ok...a snail on a boat is called a...snailor!"
Chandler frowned in disbelief; that was what she was laughing about? That? It was worse than the first one.
"Riiight," he said gently, "ok, that's seriously enough margaritas, for you. Stop with the alcohol and start with the water. You'll be grateful in the morning; trust me."
"I trust you," she smiled and Chandler sighed. How easy it would be to break that trust and just lean in those couple of inches and kiss her soundly.
"Uh," he coughed, clearing his head of the traitorous thoughts, "that's good to know," he swallowed again, taking one last look at her lips before looking over to Phoebe. Yep, she was still watching them. "Right, I guess I'll be leaving,"
With that he stepped away from her, ensuring she was balanced before bidding them all a goodnight and beating a hasty retreat. As he closed the door he leant against it closing his eyes as he waited for the sense of longing to ease slightly.
Feeling the handle turn he managed to get upright and support himself before the door disappeared. He turned, frowning as Monica appeared, pulling the door closed behind her.
"Hey?" he frowned, "whatcha doing out here?"
"I came to see you," she laughed, her hands resting on both of his arms but he suspected that was more for the benefit of her balance than for him.
"You just saw me," he offered her a soft smile. "That was me, in there."
"I know that," she scoffed, "I'm not that drunk!"
He decided it would be wise not to comment.
"So, what did you want to see me about?" he finally asked, loving that she was this close to him, touching him, her gorgeous slightly unfocused eyes staring up at him...and as they were alone he could allow himself to enjoy it, to savor it, drink her in.
"I wanted to check and make sure you were ok," she said, her hands squeezing his arms slightly.
"You can barely stand and you're asking if I'm alright?" he cocked an eyebrow amused. God he loved her.
"You've been sad lately," she murmured so sincerely that he had to swallow, hard.
"I'm fine," he lied badly, hoping she was too drunk to notice. "There's nothing to worry about."
"I worry about you," she confessed.
"Didn't we already have this conversation earlier?" he kept his tone light. "When ironically I was too hungover and now you're too drunk," he smiled to show he was teasing. His own hands came up to her arms, rubbing slightly. "Mon, don't worry about me, ok? You've got enough to worry about with the wedding. Enjoy tonight's silliness, it's probably the only break you're gonna get over the next few days."
"You sure?" she asked and he nodded, pulling her into a hug.
"I'm sure," he whispered into her hair, closing his eyes as he inhaled her familiar shampoo. He rested his cheek against the top of her head, letting the soft strands tickle his face. "I'm gonna be just fine. Stop worrying yourself and go do whatever it is a bride does just before her wedding. You should be all happy and excited and preparing yourself to be the most spectacular bride ever." His voice cracked slightly.
"Thanks Chandler," she hugged him tighter for a moment before shifting away, loosening their embrace so she could look up at him. "You're the best, you know that right?"
"Nah," he grinned, "that honor goes to you." She was so close to him, still in his embrace. He stared at her lips again wondering how she would react if he just went for it and kissed her. No, he chastened himself, he couldn't take advantage of her like that, wouldn't. He was her best friend and he couldn't jeopardise that. Instead he leant forward slightly, pressing his lips to her forehead, letting them linger there for a little longer than necessary. "Enjoy the rest of your night, Mon"
"Night Chandler."
With that he watched her nod and wobble her way back into her apartment. He waited until the door had closed before letting out a heavy sigh and scrubbing a hand over his face.
Just hugging her was becoming more and more like torture. Every little touch added to his desire and longing. Part of him wanted to savor and memorize every little detail of what it felt like to hold her closely in his arms, but another part of him knew he was playing with fire. Besides, once she was married, it would be Pete's arms she sought refuge in.
Pete.
Damn it, he hated this. All of this. With a frustrated growl he retreated back into his apartment, ready to shut himself away from the world.
A/N - please let us know your thoughts...