Act Five: The One With The Confession

Scene One: But Sometimes You Get What You Need

The May sunshine speared through the cloud, finding its way to illumine the worn stone of the church walls and beneath eyelids to sensitive, reddened eyes. Monica squinted against it.

'Big night, huh?' Chandler watched her with amusement.

'Nyargh...'

'Let me guess - too much blood in your alcohol system this morning?'

Monica gazed at him blearily. 'I am never drinking again.'

'Famous last words.'

She groaned, incomprehensible, rested her forehead against his shoulder. He patted the back of her head.

'Don't mess up my hair.'

He moved his hand. 'And that, kids, is why you shouldn't drink.'

Monica groaned again, looked up at him. He moved the errant hair from her cheek, smoothing it back into place. 'You know you're the second-most beautiful hungover person I've ever seen in real life?'

One corner of her mouth turned up. 'Who's the first?'

He smiled slightly. 'A guy's got to have some secrets, Mon.'

They stood together, slowly shuffling into position as the procession was made ready.

'C'mon, people, we need two neat lines!' Monica clapped her hands together briskly, flinched at the sound of her own raised voice.

'You know, if the chef thing doesn't work out,' Chandler told her, handing back her bouquet, 'you could always start up as a wedding planner.'

'Think so, huh?'

'Either that or a drill-sergeant.' He received her elbow lightly his stomach and grinned at her. 'Come on.' She linked her arm through his, still leaning against him a little more heavily than usual.

'You sure you're okay?'

'Uh-huh.' She nodded. 'Just not a night that I plan on repeating anytime soon. Oh, and I'm sorry I drank your whisky.'

'That's-' He blinked. 'What? How did you get hold of that? Were you in my room? Were you in my suitcase?'

Her lips pulled back in an apologetic, almost-charming smile. 'Uh, yes and yes. And, sorry.'

'What were you doing in there, anyway?'

Monica sucked in a breath, another wince flashing across her face. 'Nothing. I was just- Nothing. Hey, did Rachel find you last night?'

'Rachel?' He heard the sharpness in his voice, cleared his throat and said again, casually, 'Rachel?'

'Yeah, she was looking for you - I think it was important.' She frowned, trying to catch at memories, shook her head. 'She waited for you a long time.'

'Really.'

Drunk or depressed and last night Rachel would probably have been both, he thought. Same old, same old. Monica, he noticed, was still frowning. He smiled at her again, uneasily.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Who two?'

She rolled her eyes. 'You and Rachel two. You're being weird - both of you.'

They were moving. Thank God in His mercy, they were moving. Almost through the church doors-

'Well?'

'Well what?' he hissed it out of the corner of his mouth.

'What is going on?'

'Nothing!'

He smiled vaguely at on of the seated guests.

'Liar,' Monica muttered back. She glanced at him, glanced again, the gaze staying on his face and her eyes widened slightly. 'Oh, sweetie...' She squeezed his arm gently. 'Sorry,' she mouthed at him.

Sorry. A word of regret, of condolence. Sorry. Something deplorable, unfortunate. A sorry state of affairs. Yes, sorry was the word.

They walked down the aisle and it felt nice, Monica clinging onto him. Or maybe he was clinging onto her. Monica, one of his favourite people. Why couldn't it have been Monica? But it wasn't and even for that he felt-

He smiled wryly.

Sorry.

She had done a wonderful job with the church, now that he looked at it. The flowers, the candles, something beautiful fashioned out of the wreckage; more beautiful, perhaps, in contrast to the surrounding mess. Love among the ruins.

He took his place by Ross' side, tried to paste on a smile. And he didn't try to find her, didn't try to seek her out (if anything, he tried so hard not to look for her) but his eyes were drawn to the face, glowing, in the midst of all the others. She looked radiant. Gazing at Ross, her face was alight.

Strange, that she should look so happy. She was a generous person, but not so generous that seeing Ross' happiness should bring her so much joy, that she should still gaze at him with such adoration.

Well, maybe not quite at Ross, Chandler decided when Ross moved a few steps to meet Emily and Rachel's gaze didn't follow him. She had been looking in the vicinity of Ross, in his general direction, but she wasn't looking at Ross.

The thought seemed to come from very far away, battling its way through disbelief and denial. She wasn't looking at Ross, because she was looking at him.

ooOoo

Rachel sat on the third stair from the bottom, watching the gathering through the banisters. It had been a lovely service. She was fairly certain it had been a lovely service; she hadn't really paid much attention. Studying Chandler had proved to be far more fascinating, taking in all the tiny details of him she had never noticed before.

No, never allowed herself to notice before.

And he had kept looking at her, his eyes finding hers. Curiosity there, and confusion.

'Hey.'

She started, looked up, and the blood flared into her cheeks.

'Hey.' It was a croak.

Chandler, hands in his pockets, tilted his head, said conversationally: 'So, Monica said you wanted to talk to me.'

Rachel swallowed hard. 'I do, I-I really ... really do.'

He stood looking down at her for a moment, then joined her on the stair. She made room for him, her knee bumping against his.

'Hold on.' He moved up one step; she twisted around, facing him.

'Okay... Okay. Chandler-' Rachel took his hand between both of hers. Strong hands, long and graceful, warm between fingers. She took another breath, looked up at him again and tried to remember the speech she had been rehearsing. 'Chandler... Oh, God, this is so hard.'

'If you want I can come back later.'

'No!' She grasped his hand harder.

'Joking, Rach. And, by the way, ow.'

'Huh? Oh, sorry.' She loosened her hold on him fractionally.

'Okay, I can do this. I have something to say; quite a lot to say, actually, so I'd really love it if-if you wouldn't say anything until I'm done. Okay?'

He nodded.

Another breath taken in, released. Chandler watched her patiently.

'First thing is, I am so so sorry that I hurt you. I know I did and that is so not what I ever wanted to do. I mean, you're one of my best friends and I never meant to do anything like that. Hurt you, I mean. I didn't want that. And I know I've been stupid, and so wrapped up in myself and this-this crazy obsession I've had with Ross. And that was just ... easier, you know? I was used to that. I wasn't used to you and it scared me. A lot. It was just simpler to still be the girl who was crazy about Ross instead of being- I mean, me and Ross were that whole big thing and it was painful but it was comfortable and-and it took falling in love with you to cure me of that. And I am. Cured. And in love with you. And I think we could have something great if ... if you wanted that.' His hand between hers still felt strong and steady; hers were shaking. Everything was shaking. Rachel started at him. 'Okay, Chandler, you can talk now. Please, you have to say something.'

He blinked, roused himself. 'Yeah, I-I know but I don't want to say anything that will mess this up, so-'

His free hand caught the curve of her cheek, pulling her to him. And his lips on hers were sweet and firm and promising.

'Yeah, you do!'

They both looked up and found Joey grinning down at them, Monica a little behind him. She was smiling.

Rachel brushed the back of her hand against her eyes.

'So much for our big secret,' she said.

'Man, I hate secrets,' Joey told her.

'Love how you're able to make it all about you, Joe,' Chandler said. Joey grinned again.

'So, are you two, uh, going to tell Ross about this?' Monica looked pointedly in her brother's direction.

'Uh...' Rachel bit her lip.

Chandler shifted restlessly. 'You know, maybe we'll wait 'til he's back from his honeymoon. I mean, with a bit of luck he'll be so loved-up he might not even notice.'

Monica's eyebrows flickered. 'Good luck with that.'

'Gee, thanks.'

'He'll just have to deal with it,' Rachel stated firmly. 'He's got Emily and- Look, look how happy they are. It won't be that big a deal.'

Monica's lips pushed out and in, doubtful.

'Failing that we'll just, y'know, go on the lam.'

'Ooh, to Paris!' Rachel's eyes gleamed. 'That would be so cool.'

Chandler laughed slightly, moving her hair away from her shoulder, his fingers grazing lightly against the curve of her neck. She shivered, leaning into him.

And Joey and Monica watched them indulgently.

'Hey, guys, a little privacy?'

Joey's face screwed up. 'But you guys are so cute!'

Chandler sighed. 'I can't believe I'm using this line, but do you want to get out of here?'

Rachel nodded happily. 'I really do.'