Fair warning: the amount of sap in this chapter is honestly a bit concerning...they're just so cute I can't help it okay?! Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the first chapter (clearly it did motivate me to write more...I wrote 4k for this chapter in less than 24 hours, which is more than I've written in the past year combined) please keep them coming!
"Chandler! Eyes up here!" Monica snapped, and Chandler whipped his eyes back up to her face with a bashful grin. They were sitting in the examination room, waiting for the doctor to come in for the first ultrasound. It was still fairly early on in the pregnancy—about six weeks, by their estimate—but Doctor McKay had suggested that they take a look, which was why Monica was sitting on a doctor's bed half-covered by a paper sheet with her legs spread and Chandler was trying desperately not to look down…there.
"Chandler!" she snapped again, slapping him on the arm this time and wow he hadn't event noticed that his eyes had wandered again. So sue him, he wanted to look at his girlfriend.
"Sorry," he shrugged, leaning against the bed near her shoulder.
"I'm surprised you're not pacing or something," she commented when he looked at her. "Isn't this scary, being here?"
"No more so than anything else these past few weeks," he responded, taking one of her hands casually. Truthfully, it was pretty intimidating being here; he knew seeing the sonogram would make it real. Maybe he had gotten all the panic out of his system in the first 48 hours, though, because while he might be a bit anxious, it was the good kind of anxious, the excited kind. "Don't worry, though. I'm sure these next few months will bring many more Chandler-esque freak outs."
As weak an attempt at humor as that was—especially for him—it got Monica to smile which was the whole point. Monica had been tense all week, ever since they had made the appointment, and it was a bit unsettling to see her so out of sorts. Chandler had known her for almost ten years and never had he seen her so anxious about anything; all he wanted to do was make everything okay for her, in any way he could, to the point where he wasn't even thinking about his own nerves.
It was especially hard trying to comfort her without cluing the other in on what was happening. Hiding their relationship had been a challenge to begin with, but the added pressure of Monica's pregnancy added a whole new layer that Chandler really wasn't sure how to navigate.
"I love you," Monica grinned, and Chandler leaned down to kiss her forehead. He had lost count of how many times they had said those words in the past week, but he never tired of hearing it or saying it.
"I love you too," he replied. "Are you okay?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, eyes turned down to their intertwined hands.
"Lots is happening," he commented. He brought his other hand to her cheek, meeting her eyes again. "It's okay to be a little scared."
"Pshh," she rolled her eyes, faking casual. A good attempt, but still Chandler could see right through her. "Who's scared? 'Cause I'm not scared. I'm perfectly fine!"
"Of course you are," he chuckled, and kissed her forehead again as Dr. McKay returned to pull up the ultrasound on the screen.
"Everything looks good so far," she commented, turning the blurry screen towards them. "And that—right there—is your baby."
Chandler squinted, trying and failing to see anything but black and white squiggles. He felt Monica squeeze his hand and exhale shakily. "Oh my god," she breathed.
"I don't see it," Chandler whispered back.
"It's right…there," Monica pointed with the hand that was still holding his. He could vaguely see a shape amidst the wavy lines, and he guessed that that must be all there is to see.
"There's not much to see yet," Dr. McKay assured them. "It's still early. Give it a few weeks, and you'll have no problems. I assume you want a copy of the sonogram?"
"Yes," they answered at the same time, and Chandler tore his eyes away from the screen to smile at her. The tension he had observed in her all week had almost completely melted away, and the smile on her face at last reached her eyes. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pressed his face to the top of her head to hide his own grin. Never in his life could he remember being so happy.
"I'll get that printed for you, then," Dr. McKay said. "Do you have any other questions for me at this point?"
"I can't think of any," Monica responded, looking to Chandler for confirmation. He just shrugged and shook his head. They both knew that she was the brains behind the whole operation; as a general rule he was just there for moral support.
"Then, Ms. Geller, you can go ahead and get dressed again, and you can pick up the sonogram at the receptionist desk on your way out. Congratulations again to both of you!"
"Thank you," Chandler responded for the two of them as the doctor closed the door behind herself.
Monica moved from under Chandler's arm and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
"Can you like…not look, or something?" she asked.
"Honey, I hate to break it to you, but I've kind of seen it all," he joked, flinching back when she turned to glare at him. "Fine, fine, I'm turning around, take your time."
"Do you ever stop talking?" he couldn't see her face—because he was a gentleman dammit and when his girlfriend says not to look, he doesn't look, no matter how badly he wants to—but he knew she was smiling.
"Mon, in all the years you've known me, have I ever stopped talking?" he responded.
"Good point," she admitted. "Okay, you're good to turn around now."
He did so, and immediately pulled her into his arms and held her close for a moment.
"What was that for?" she asked when they pulled apart.
"We're having a baby," he replied, stupid grin still on his face.
"You bet we are," she agreed, kissing his cheek before moving away from him entirely and grabbing her purse. "You ready?"
"Let's go," he responded, and followed her out to the receptionist area to pick up the sonogram.
Rachel wasn't home when they got back to Monica's apartment, and wasn't supposed to be home for another three hours, so the two of them curled up on the couch together, the picture of the sonogram between them. They were quiet for a while, just looking at the piece of paper, so simple, yet the most important thing in the world at the moment. That was their baby. Once Monica had pointed it out, Chandler couldn't un-see it. It was small, it was barely anything, yet he loved it. He loved it so much and he didn't know anything about it, other than it existed. That was enough.
"Wow," he breathed, for what felt like the millionth time that day.
"I know!" Monica agreed enthusiastically.
"That's…that's a little person." He could feel Monica's gaze turn to him, but now it was his turn to keep his eyes glued to the tiny blip in front of them. "That's our little person."
"Are you okay?" she asked earnestly.
"I've never been so okay in all my life," he responded seriously, and turned away from the photo to kiss the side of her head. "Are you okay?"
"Very okay," she nodded. She looked back at the picture for a moment, before putting it on the coffee table and turning her body to face him entirely. "You know," she began, "there are still a lot of things we need to talk about. And soon."
"Like what?" he asked, turning his body towards hers and reaching out for her hands.
"Well, it won't be long before it becomes very obvious that I'm pregnant. And Rachel's around so much that she'll figure out something's up even before I start showing. I think it's best if we tell them up front, instead of them finding out on their own."
"I agree," Chandler nodded, the paused. "Good god, Ross is gonna kill me isn't he?"
"Ross isn't gonna kill you," Monica argued.
"He is though!" Chandler groaned. "I slept with his sister, didn't tell anyone, then I got his sister pregnant. He's going to absolutely kill me, and I will totally deserve it."
"Hey, hey, Chandler," she stopped him, pulling his hands to her chest. "He's not going to do anything, because I won't let him. I'm an adult, I can make my own decisions, okay?" She moved a hand to his cheek, which he covered with one of his own. "I love you, and I want to have this baby with you. And there is nothing that Ross or anyone else can do that's going to change that."
"Really?" he smiled shyly.
"Really," she confirmed. He turned his head to kiss her palm, then pulled her onto his lap to kiss her lips.
"So how are we gonna tell everyone then?" he asked, forehead still pressed against hers.
"Well, I guess we can wait a little while longer?" she grinned sheepishly. "I mean, we can tell them now, or we can wait a few weeks, y'know, until we have to? I kind of like having you to myself."
"Aww, I like having you to myself, too," he admitted. "Doing this without everyone else getting in the way? Best decision we ever made. Shame it can't last forever."
"But it can last a little longer?" she asked hopefully, and Chandler smiled back and kissed her again—he'd never get tired of kissing her.
"Yeah," he answered. "Just a little longer."
Monica flushed the toilet and stood up to wash her mouth out for the second time already that day. Morning sickness was a bitch. It had started a few days ago, at the beginning of her seventh week, and since then she had thrown up more than she had in the past ten years combined. If Rachel had noticed, she hadn't said anything yet, and Monica really, really hoped she hadn't noticed. She was tired, she was sore everywhere, and she now spent about an hour a day hugging the toilet. She just didn't have the energy to deal with the drama that would inevitable come when the other four got involved.
Chandler, in the meantime, had been a saint. The time they spent together was unfortunately limited, as it was becoming difficult to come up with excused to break away from the others, but the precious moments they did manage to steal were filled with cuddles and quiet talks, encouragement that she was doing so well and assurances that everything was going to be okay. Mood swings were also a bitch.
"Mon? You okay?" and there was Rachel, honestly Monica was surprised it took her this long to notice.
"I'm fine!" she called back. "Just a minute!" She splashed water on her face, trying to control the flush, while also trying to not puke again. It was a constant battle.
She opened the door and Rachel was standing right there, concern written all over her face. "Honey are you sure you're okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine!" Monica responded as convincingly as she could. "Promise.
"Monica?" she pressed. "You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"
"Of course I would!" Monica exclaimed, turning towards the kitchen. "Hungry? Want me to make you something for breakfast?" Please don't throw up please don't throw up.
"No, I have to head off to work, I just want to make sure you're okay."
"Oh, well, I'm okay! I'm perfect!" Monica exclaimed, probably a bit too earnestly. "Bye-bye, have a good day!"
Rachel gave her a look—one that Monica knew meant this wasn't over—before grabbing her coat and slipping out the door. Not a minute later the door opened again to reveal Chandler, all dressed for work in a suit and tie like she loved.
"Hi honey," she greeted him, turning to the fridge to pull out the milk for his cereal.
"Morning babe," he walked up behind her to kiss her cheek. "Feeling any better?"
"Well, I've only thrown up twice today, and it's already 9am, so I'll count that as a win," she said with a shrug.
"I'm sorry you're so miserable," he said, and he did sound genuinely sorry. She stretched up onto her tiptoes to kiss his cheek in answer.
"I'm not miserable," she responded. "I mean, morning sickness is no picnic, but other than that I'm fine. But you should know that I think Rachel is catching on. We may need to think about telling the others soon."
"Oh, yeah, of course," he nodded. "Whenever you're ready, I'm ready. However you want to do it, I'm with you one hundred percent."
"You are such a suck up, but I appreciate it," she teased, and Chandler smiled back, raising his eyebrows to show that he understood the joke.
"Anything for you, dear," he replied with a wink. "I'm off to work. Call me if you need anything?"
"Of course," she rolled her eyes, steering him towards the door. "I'll see you tonight when I get off work."
"Mmm, love you," he grinned, leaning in to kiss her lips.
"Love you too," she responded, meeting him in the middle. "Now go. I'll be fine!"
He grazed his hand over her face one more time before backing out of the door and closing it behind him. Alone for the first time since she woke up, Monica allowed herself to sag against the counter. Truthfully, she had never felt so poorly in her entire life. Doctor McKay had said that this was completely normal, that there was nothing to worry about, so she didn't. That didn't stop her from stewing silently that she wasn't one of the twenty percent of women who didn't experience morning sickness.
She sighed out loud and poured herself a glass of water from the tap before sitting down at the table. If she was being completely honest, she was getting tired of keeping everything from her friends. It would be so much easier if they knew; not only would she not have to hide the pregnancy anymore, but Chandler could be around all the time to help. He was the one thing making all this easier and it was killing her that she couldn't just go to him any time she wanted.
Seven weeks in, it was time, she decided. At the very least she needed to tell Rachel; she needed her best friend in her corner. Maybe Phoebe. They could definitely hold off on telling Ross for a little while. She'd never admit it to Chandler, but she was terrified of telling him too.
She had another hour before she needed to leave for work, so instead of using that time to clean like she normally would, she made her way back into bed for another hour of sleep. It was the least she could do to make herself less miserable.
Chandler poked his head inside Monica and Rachel's apartment to find it empty. Monica would be home any minute, and he had no idea where Rachel was, or how long until she'd be home. He figured he might as well just wait at theirs, since it wasn't unusual for any member of their gang to show up at any hour at their unofficial home base, so he grabbed the carton of apple juice from the fridge—he had promised Monica that he wouldn't drink for as long as she was pregnant—poured himself a glass, and sat down in front of the TV.
He hadn't even finished his first glass when the door opened again and Monica walked in, seemingly unsurprised to see him there already.
"Hi honey, good day?" she greeted, moving to sit next to him on the couch.
"The best," he exaggerated. "I had lunch with Doug today, and he only had two drinks!"
"Ooh, must be cutting back," she joked along, pausing to press a kiss to his lips before curling into his side and resting her head on his shoulder.
"Mon? You okay?"
"Hmm? Yeah, just tired," she mumbled distractedly. "Doctor said that's normal. Plus, I don't sleep nearly as well with you across the hall."
"I know," he murmured soothingly. "I hate it too. I'd much rather sleep with you."
"I think it's time to tell them," Monica admitted, and Chandler had to agree. Sneaking around was exhausting on a good day, and from what he had heard, so was pregnancy. Putting the two together was just too much, and he really worried about Monica's health.
"Tonight?" he asked. "Or tomorrow?"
"I think…not tonight," she replied. "This weekend maybe? I don't work Saturday, we could tell them then? Or at least just Rachel and Phoebe. If Rachel knows, you can be over here a lot more often."
"That's fine," Chandler agreed. "Whatever's best for you. I don't want you losing any sleep. You need your rest."
She laughed softly. "You worry too much. I'm totally fine, trust me."
"Okay," he agreed. "I trust you. I still worry, but I trust you."
"I love you so much," she responded. "How did I get to be so lucky?"
"Wow, someone's tired," he teased with a smile, causing her to sleepily slap his arm.
"Shut up," she mumbled. "I'm trying to be nice here."
"I know," he chuckled. "I love you too. Want to go lie down?"
She shook her head. "Rachel's gonna be home any minute. This is fine, just stop moving."
Chandler settled back into the couch and pulled her tighter to him as she dozed off. Any one of the others could walk in at any moment—actually Chandler was surprised no one had showed up yet—but he didn't care. It wasn't like they were never this close before, there was no reason to be paranoid. At least, that was what he kept reminding himself while sneaking careful glances over his shoulder and trying not to disturb the beautiful, sleeping woman on his chest.
Come to think of it, he was a little tired himself, and he hadn't been this comfortable in what felt like weeks, or at least since the last time they had gotten a night together. He planned to only close his eyes for a minute, but next thing he knew the apartment door was banging open and Joey strolled in like it was his own place. Monica stirred a bit, blinking sleepily and Chandler had to fight very urge to kiss her right then, audience be damned.
"Hey guys, what're you up to?" he greeted, seemingly unbothered by the position he had just found them in.
"I take it you're here for dinner?" Monica responded instead of answering, untangling herself from Chandler's embrace as she did so. He wanted to argue, to tell her that she didn't have to get up yet, but he didn't have a good enough excuse for why she shouldn't cook dinner for all of them, something she did normally.
"Well, yeah, I mean, if you're offering," Joey answered casually and Monica shook her head.
"Well, I'm not doing anything fancy tonight, it's just gonna be pasta."
"Mon, believe me, pasta is much fancier than anything we have over at our place," Chandler reminded her, standing up and following her to the kitchen. She swatted him on the shoulder when he got close enough, ignoring his protest of "hey!" and pushed him out of the kitchen.
"You. Sit," she commanded, and he obliged, sitting next to Joey at the kitchen table with an eye roll.
"Yes ma'am," he nodded and she winked back. Joey looked between the two of them skeptically but made no comment, nor did he give any indication that he thought anything particularly unusual about the exchange.
"Hey guys!" Rachel greeted as she joined them in the apartment. "Feeling better, Mon?"
"What was wrong with Monica?" Joey asked, looking between the two of them, concern on his face.
"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine," Monica answered as casually as she could, not bothering to turn around from where she was stirring the pasta at the stove. "I was a little sick this morning, but I'm perfectly okay now. I promise," she added before Rachel could argue. She clearly knew all of them too well.
The door opened again to reveal Ross, then Phoebe followed almost immediately after and any chance of being alone with Monica for the rest of the night flew right out the window. She put the big bowl of pasta on the table and the vultures that were their friends during mealtimes swooped in and devoured it with speed that would be concerning if he didn't know them so well. Chandler kept trying to catch Monica's eye across all the usual commotion, but she was sufficiently occupied by the remainder of the group and barely glanced at him for the duration of the meal.
When the group started migrating to the living room to camp in front of the TV, Chandler stood up and began clearing the table.
"You don't have to do that," Monica said, moving to take a plate from him.
"I want to," he responded. "You go sit and relax, let your boyfriend take care of things."
Monica grinned shyly and glanced over to the other four to confirm that they weren't paying attention, then leaned up to kiss his cheek. "You're so sweet. I'll wash and you dry?" she suggested.
"Deal," he grinned, quickly returning the peck before turning and grabbing more dishes from the table. The worked in silence, the background drone of the TV and the other four talking casually the only noise in the room. It was nice just to stand next to her, doing something so simple, Chandler realized. This is what it feels like to be truly in love.
They finished in no time—Monica was a cleaning professional and drying was a pretty easy job—but were in no rush to join the others in front of the TV, so they just took a seat in the kitchen and joined their hands together under the table, half listening to the conversation in the other room, which surprisingly no one had tried to drag them into yet.
"You doing okay?" Chandler asked quietly, running his thumb over the back of her hand.
"I told you, I'm fine," she answered.
"You don't have to be 'fine' with me, you know," he responded seriously. "It's me. You can tell me how you're actually feeling, because I want to take care of you, okay?"
"Hey aren't you two done cleaning up yet? We 're gonna put on a movie!" Joey called back to them, interrupting the moment.
"Yeah, we're coming," Monica responded. "Let me make popcorn real quick." She stood up, pulled her hand out of Chandler's grasp, and subtly stroked it along the back of his head. "Go ahead," she nodded. He stood up to move the chair in the living room (it was big enough to fit the both of them, and no one would think twice of them sharing it), when Monica stopped him one more time with a hand on his arm. "And, I really am okay. But you'll be the first one to know when I'm not. Thanks."
He smiled back at her, suddenly shy, but also suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss her. Just a few more days, he told himself as he finally made his way over to the others. Just a few more days and the others would know. No more hiding, no more secrets. He should be scared, and maybe the old Chandler would be, but he wasn't. Not at all. The thought of really being with Monica—holding her, kissing her whenever he wanted, being there whenever she needed his help—well, he had never been so excited for anything in his life.
Monica joined him in the big chair and he loosely wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They were sitting close, but not close enough. Never close enough.
Just a few more days.