EPILOGUE
2011 (5 years post-trial)
"Dear Uncle Chan, I'm so sorry for what I did, I wish I never hurt you because what I said was not true, and I'm so sad that because of me you went to jail. I remembered when you played with me, and tell many really funny jokes. I miss you."
Chandler stared intently at the card, reading the message over and over. It was time. For Monica's sake, it was time.
"Hello?" Chandler said shakily. He hadn't dialed that number in five years. Was he making a mistake?
Ross's heart tightened in his chest, he recognized that voice.
"Chandler," he whispered. The sound of Ross's voice made Chandler's heart ache with nostalgia.
"I'm ready to give this friendship a second go, if you'll have me… I know it's been five years too late, but-"
"It's never too late," Ross interjected softly.
"Well, how about tomorrow noon at Central Perk?" Chandler asked, naming the first place that popped into his head. He hadn't stepped into that coffee shop in years.
"I miss that place," Ross chuckled, "Rach and I will be there."
"What about Emma?"
Ross's breath caught in his throat, "You'd like to see her?"
Chandler took a deep breath, "Yes, I think eventually I have to let go of my demons. I think if I try, I could be her Godfather again."
Christmas Eve 2016 (10 years post-trial)
Here they were, at the much anticipated, The Phalanges concert. It was Christmas eve at Madison Square Gardens. Joey, Ross, Rachel, Chandler, Monica and 15 year old Emma stood in the mosh pit, absolutely mesmerized by the size of the crowd around them. There were close to 40,000 eccentric hipster Indie kids wearing Santa Hats, pushing and shoving each other, fighting for the best view possible.
As Phoebe and Mike took to the stage, the entire stadium erupted into hysterical screams, and discordant chants of "Regina Phalange, Regina Phalange! Crap Bag, Crap Bag, Crap Bag! Banana Hammock, Banana Hammock! Princess Consuela, Princess Consuela!"
"Hey you little Phalanges! Love you all for showing up at the biggest The Phalanges concert in history! I mean, Madison Square Gardens on Christmas Eve? C'mon! Tonight, it's all about smelly cats, sour milk, curly pubes and sticky shoes!" Phoebe pointed at Mike, cuing him in.
Mike ran his fingers dramatically up and down his keyboard, "Everybody, get your Phalanges out!"
To the gang's bewilderment, 40,000 Indie kids simultaneously pulled out colourful glow sticks. Soon the entire stadium lit up with the colourful sway of dancing "Phalanges".
"Oh my god. It's like I've stepped into a bad acid trip starring Phoebe," Chandler shouted over the crowd's excited screams.
"This one goes out to my five beautiful babies, you know who you are! Sing along if you know the lyrics!" Phoebe cried out.
Mike began dancing patterns on his keyboard. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, Phoebe strummed energetically on her guitar, singing loudly into the mike.
"Went to the store, sat on Santa's lap, asked him to bring my friends all kinds of crap. Said all you need is to write them a song. Now you've all heard this song, so just try to sing along! Yes do sing along!" Phoebe sang.
"Monica, Monica, have a happy Hanukkah! Saw Santa Claus, he said hello to Ross! And please tell Joey, Christmas will be snowy! And Rachel and Chandler, mmmhh mmghhh… Handler!" Phoebe crooned, pointing to the crowd, cuing them to join in.
As the crowd dutifully sang back to her, the gang felt their hair stand on end as a chorus of 40,000 people called out their names. Swaying to the music, Chandler slipped his hand into Emma's, giving it a squeeze. Emma looked up at Chandler, surprised at the warm gesture. She let her head drop to her uncle's shoulder. Chandler kissed the top of the teenager's head.
As the gang watched Phoebe and Mike work up a storm on stage, one by one, the friends began joining hands. First Chandler and Emma, then Rachel, Ross, Monica and Joey. Finally, after 10 long years, the gang felt the distance between them fall away forever.
2026 (20 years post-trial)
As Head Copywriter at a multi-national firm, Chandler had spent the day with his advertising team, hashing out the final details of the firm's biggest advertising deal yet. It was a primetime television advertisement for a Chinese Insurance company, and the representatives were flying in from Shanghai tomorrow.
"大家好，我是 Chandler Bing. 欢迎你们来我们的国家," he practiced out loud to himself as he strolled down the street. Stopping in front of Monica's restaurant, he took a moment to admire her pride and joy. Emblazoned in silver lettering, was the single word, Harmonica. In the kitchen, she was sprinkling powdered sugar on her Triple-tiered lemon meringue cake. Chandler came up from behind her, giving her buttocks a little squeeze. She jumped up in delighted surprise.
"You filthy old pervert!" she laughed.
"There's many years left in this filthy old pervert, yet. I'm sure you'll agree, given last night's… activities," he whispered salaciously in her ear. Monica responded by beating him repeatedly with a dishtowel.
"Hmmm, rough play. Is this an invitation, Mrs Bing?" Chandler murmured, pulling Monica against him. In spite of herself, Monica giggled.
"So, you sure you can't make it? Get one of your sous chefs to take over?"
"Please. These kids are clueless. If you want good work done, you gotta do it yourself," Monica announced.
"You're such a control freak," Chandler teased.
"Well, I didn't hear you complaining last night," Monica countered slyly.
"Touche," Chandler smiled.
"Seriously, get outta here already, or you're gonna be late!" Monica chided, playfully shoving Chandler out the door.
When Chandler arrived at the N.Y. State Supreme Court, he gave himself a moment to take stock. Twenty years ago, he was brought before these very doors in handcuffs. Today, he was here on his own volition. Shaking off his nerves, he stepped inside the Courtroom.
"I would like to call Attorney Geller on behalf of the Defendant," the Court Officer announced.
Standing before the court, was a beautiful young woman with bright blue eyes, tan skin and long straight bronze hair. She was wearing a black Ralph Lauren blazer and pencil skirt from her mother's "Fall Collection". The girl was a spitting image of Rachel. She glanced around the courtroom, nervously wringing her hands. Chandler flashed her a reassuring You-can-do-this smile.
"Your Honour, I would like to raise an objection under Rule 8.5.1 of the US Crimes and Criminal Procedure Code. Under the rule, the testimony of a child under age 5 is only admissible in Court if the child has been assessed by a registered clinical psychologist, and the Court has received a signed affidavit confirming that it is the psychologist's professional opinion that the child's recollection of the events are accurate."
"I assume you're referring to Bing's Law," Justice Perry commented.
"Yes I am, Your Honour. It's imperative that the tragedy of US v Bing (2006) is never repeated."
From the docks, Chandler watched proudly as his Goddaughter conducted her first Criminal Trial. In his heart he knew she was destined to become the next Mike Hannigan.
A/N: A review would mean the world to me :)