"Tell me again," Chandler said as he opened the driver's side minivan door for his wife in the parking garage, "the plan for tonight is…?"

"Show starts at 7," she said, setting her purse inside. "Twins and I are having dinner at Mom and Dad's first."

"And you're not gonna tell your parents?"

"Well," she said, briefly averting her eyes from his. "I'm not planning to…"

"Uh huh," he said, tongue firmly in cheek, giving her his little grin. "I suppose I'll grab something to eat before I leave work."

"Something healthy, Daddy," she beamed at him, reaching up to peck his lips.

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned, kissing her back. For a moment they looked into each other's eyes, arms wrapped around one another, then Monica tried to stifle a giggle.

"What?" he asked, still grinning.

She shook her head briefly.

"Do you remember the day Ben was born?"

"Ben? Our nephew, Ben? The one who, every time he sees me says, 'so when are we gonna take the old Porsche for a spin, Uncle Chan?'" he said, cocking his head and speaking in his best teenage-boy voice. "That Ben?"

"Yes, that would be the one," she said, rolling her eyes. "And it would probably be good to run it once in a while."

"He just got his temps, honey," Chandler said, shaking his head. "So, I'm thinking 'no.'"

"Um, he is my brother's son," Monica reminded him.

"Ah yes, but Rachel's teaching him how to drive, remember?"

A brief look of horror crossed Monica's face.

"Good point," she shuddered a little. "Anyway, do you remember what you…offered…the day he was born?"

He grinned, knowing full well what she was talking about.

"Refresh my memory."

She grinned back at him, knowing he knew, but she wanted to say it anyway.

"You said when we're 40, we should get together and have a baby."

"I believe I said if neither of us was married…"

She gently smacked the back of his head as she pulled him a little closer. He smiled at her.

"My point is," she said softly, "you kept your promise. You got me all knocked up."

"Finally…" he whispered dramatically, pulling her in for a sweet kiss.

"I love you," he said softly after their kiss broke. He gently brushed the back of his hand over her stomach.

"And I love you…"

Monica's eyes filled with tears again. "We love you, too."

He smiled gently at her as she cleared her throat and stepped back, grinning, and running her hands through his hair one more time.

"I better get to school," she said, climbing into the van.

"Drive more like Ross than Rachel," he said, glancing at his watch. "You've got time. Be careful."

"I will," she said, turning on the ignition and closing the door. She felt the protective warmth of his words wash through her and she winked at him. "Don't worry about us. See you soon."

He watched her pull out of her spot in the garage, then turned to walk back to his office, a smile planted firmly on his face.

###

Chandler scrolled through his iPhone as he walked back to work, grinning when he saw an e-mail from Steve telling him to take his time. When Steve told their potential new clients that Chandler had a family medical emergency they'd offered to reschedule.

"You already got 'em," Steve had added to the end of his e-mail.

Chandler chuckled a little at that as he put his phone back in his pocket and let out a deep breath. "Happy" wasn't a word that did justice to what he was feeling. "Happy" wasn't enough. "Joyous" wasn't enough. "Euphoric" even seemed lame.

Monica was pregnant. She was pregnant with his baby, something he'd wanted to happen almost from the moment he proposed to her more than 10 years ago.

He pulled the ultrasound picture out of his coat pocket and stepped over near the edge of the sidewalk, trying to focus on the little baby in the black and white image as his eyes started to water. He wanted to shout the news from the nearest skyscraper. He wanted to put a full-page ad in the New York Times.

He wanted the whole world to know that by some stroke of luck, for some unexplained reason, they were finally going to have a baby.

The wind suddenly kicked up, flapping the little ultrasound image in the breeze, and Chandler put the picture safely back in his breast pocket. He pulled his coat a little tighter around his neck.

As he turned to walk back in the direction of his building a symphonic chorus of singing voices seemed to rise out of nowhere and hit him full in the face.

Chandler looked up then and found himself at the bottom of the steps that led to the front doors of St. Patrick's Cathedral.

He tilted his head back, taking in the massive, gothic structure, looking somewhat out of place flanked by the tall, glass office buildings around it. He'd passed by it a thousand times, never paying it much notice. It was a church, it was a tourist attraction, it was iconic, but it was New York - everything was "iconic" in one way or another. But today he stopped and watched as the clouds above floated behind the imposing steeples cast against a mostly gray winter sky.

Two people were climbing the steps next to him and when they pulled open the thick, heavy doors the music flowed out onto the sidewalk once again.

And Chandler didn't know why, but he turned and followed the couple, opening the doors himself and walking right into the church.

###

Silent Night

Holy Night

All is Calm

All is Bright

Round yon Virgin

Mother and Child…

Chandler took a seat in a far back pew. A couple dozen tourists mingled by the alter at the front of the church, taking pictures and talking softly. The music was coming from a large choir obviously practicing for a Christmas performance.

The soaring interior of marble, stained-glass windows and Romanesque columns was decorated for the season, with soft white lights and candles, and burgundy and forest green ribbons tastefully placed here and there throughout the church.

It looked perfect, but Chandler smiled, thinking of what Monica would probably do to "improve it" if she was in charge of getting a sanctuary ready for the holidays.

He folded his hands and tucked them under his chin, putting his elbows on his knees - looking at nothing in particular as the choir continued with its traditional rendition of "Silent Night."

And his mind started to wander back…

"It's not fair! I don't even have one, how come they get two?"

"You'll get one."

"Oh yeah? When?"

He grinned. It was true that he was just trying to make her feel better back then, but it was the first time he had ever thought of having a baby - ever - and it had been with Monica.

"I know about the baby."

"What baby?"

"Our baby."

"We have a baby?!"

Oh how he'd freaked out when he heard Phoebe and Rachel in the hall the day of their wedding; then he'd found the onesie at the hotel gift shop and he wasn't freaked out anymore. Chandler frowned, remembering how happy it actually had made him to tell Ross the news that Monica was pregnant. He remembered how giddy it made him feel when he thought, for all of about 20 minutes that day, that they were going to have a baby.

"It means we can keep trying, but there's a good chance this may never happen for us."

"Oh my God…"

Chandler squeezed his eyes shut. It still hurt. The look on her face at that moment had shattered his heart into a million pieces, and he would never, ever forget it, as much as he wanted to. Her lifelong dream was lost in one instant. They were completely, utterly devastated. He couldn't fix it, and he'd been so mad because he couldn't fix it. He couldn't make it better. He'd comforted her as best he could, but she'd eventually had to talk him down. He'd been so angry - at everyone and everything.

He was certainly convinced there wasn't a God. Chandler vividly recalled thinking that if there was a higher power it would never have let his good-hearted, loving wife go through that kind of pain. But once Monica's energy turned to finding another way they could become parents, so did his, and he was determined to make it happen.

Chandler sat back in the pew, putting his hands on his knees and let out a deep breath. His eyes began to water as the choir ended "Silent Night" and soft applause came from the small cluster of people at the front of the church. The organist then started to play the opening notes of "O Holy Night."

"You still want that baby?"

"God Bless You, Chandler Bing!"

He thought of Erica. He'd be forever grateful to the girl from Ohio who, despite all the miscommunication, he'd been able to convince to give them the child she was carrying. The children, as it turned out. He and Monica sent her a card with an update every Christmas, and she'd called a couple times when the twins were infants, but they hadn't heard from her in four years. She'd made her decision, it seemed, and moved on. It made them both breathe a little easier with each passing year.

"Now we have one of each!"

He gently swiped at the tears that had formed under his eyes as he pictured his babies - Erica and Jack. He'd never known it was possible to fall completely, unconditionally in love with two little people who didn't even know how to smile yet, but he had. They were the absolute joys of his life and, in ways he didn't entirely comprehend, they'd completed his transformation to manhood which Monica had started. He was their Dad and, unlike his Dad, he was not going to miss a thing. And he hadn't - those first smiles, the first time Jack called him "Dada", the first steps Erica took, the toddler temper tantrums, endless ear aches and going over the alphabet until he was dreaming of letters in his sleep.

Chandler took a deep breath and looked heavenward as he thought of their first day of kindergarten, when he and Monica had followed their confident 5-year-olds into their classrooms. They'd all rallied, he remembered, tears in their eyes, but not one of the four of them had let them fall as they waved goodbye. Then he and Monica had walked back to his Land Rover, climbed inside, held hands and cried like babies in the school parking lot for a good 10 minutes.

He sighed heavily and shook his head at the memory, tears streaming down his face now - and with bright, blurry eyes he looked up at the colors shining like a kaleidoscope throughout the space around him.

"You are going to be a Daddy again. I'm pregnant."

"We're going to have a baby!"

He gasped sharply and put his fist to his lips as the music from the choir grew to its crescendo and seemed to fill every little space in his pounding heart.

A thrill of Hope, the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees,

Oh hear, the angel voices…

And so he did. Chandler knelt down heavily on one knee, folded his hands, leaned against the pew in front of him, and simply whispered "thank you."

Then from somewhere, whether real or imaginary, over the voices of the choir and the tourists, he could swear he heard two words very clearly…

"You're welcome."

NOTE: This image - of Chandler in a church in his winter coat on his knees praying over…something - has been in my head for such a long time. And I know he wasn't a religious character in any sense, but if anything could bring a man to his knees, I would think the news he'd received that day would. And, to be honest, this moment carries personal significance for me and I just wanted to write it. Reviews are wonderful, thank you…