Chapter 2: One Heart

Central Perk had been taken over by the Tags, still stewing over the effrontery visited upon them by the Geller-Tribbiani crime families. So far, it hadn't been the best night. Tag himself was convinced that the cops were onto them, watching them all too closely.

To make matters worse, Phoebe Buffay, a scrappy tomboy who lived on the streets, had come intruding into the coffee house, eager to stir up a fight with the Geller-Tribbianis. Tag, his position on letting girls into the gang clear and firm, had told her to beat it.

At last, Ross, Joey and their cohorts arrived, ready to assemble the war council that Tag had arranged with his adversaries before the bizarre incident involving Chandler and Geller's little sister.

"We'll gladly rumble with you. A knock-down, drag-out, once and for all! Just tell us where…. and when."

Ross lifted an eyebrow at Tag's challenge.

"The park?"

"The river," Tag countered.

"Under the highway. There's a blacktop with plenty of cover. You know it?"

Tag considered Ross' proposal, then agreed to it with a handshake.

"When?"

"Tomorrow night, after dark." Joey suggested.

"Make it sunset, and you have a deal." Another handshake. "All right," Tag huffed. "Weapons." When neither Ross nor Joey spoke for a moment, he prompted again.

"Weapons!"

Just then, the bell tinkled and Chandler came dashing in. Tag noticed how Ross's eyes immediately went to the handsome youth with interest. Tag beckoned Chandler over before glaring at Ross.

"Pipes."

"Bats."

"Chains."

"Rocks."

"Belts."

"Bottles! Guns! Knives!" Chandler threw in, his voice high and mocking and dripping with disgust. "What a coop full of chickens!"

Tag frowned hard, but decided to let his good friend's scorn go, if only barely. Ross glowered hatefully at Chandler.

"And how would you do it better, boy?"

"Big, tough fellas like you have to hide behind pipes and clubs? Afraid to get in close? Afraid to use some real, brute strength?" Chandler's eyes gleamed. "Best man from each gang, family, whatever you call it, to slug it out!"

Ross leapt to his feet, matching Chandler's gleam. "I would enjoy that challenge. OK, fair fight!"

The Tags loudly protested, but it was Tag, as the commander, who got to say Yes or No. "…. Fair fight," he agreed, and he and Ross shook on it. Ross turned to stare down Chandler with relish.

"When I get through with you, you won't know which way is up!"

"Our best man versus your best man," Tag reminded Ross. "And, uh…. we….. pick him." At his side rose one of his deputies, a fighter with deep experience by the name of Pete.

Ross momentarily looked confused. "But I thought…." He was still staring at Chandler.

"You shook on it!" Tag pointed out.

Ross steamed. He was good and trapped, in a snare that Chandler had been only too happy to spring. First the bastard kissed his little sister, and now dared to outwit him? He stormed from the coffee house, Joey and his faithful following behind. Gunther shooed Tag and his men out a moment later, leaving himself alone with Chandler.

"Where were you, Chan the Man? You usually stay to help with the closing!"

"I thought I didn't want to go to this dance tonight, Gunther, but am I sure glad I did! I met the perfect girl!"

"Yeah?" Gunther grinned. "Anyone I know?"

"Monica Geller! She's something else!"

Gunther nearly dropped his broom. "That Ross fellow's little sister? But they say that she's promised! No wonder he wanted to fight with you!"

"Gunther, Gunther, Gunther…. How can Ross fight me if I'm not even there?" Chandler grinned devilishly. "Ross can't get too hurt fighting with nothing but his bare hands! I bet later, he'll thank me! Monica surely will!" And he dashed from Central Perk in a love-struck tizzy, Gunter staring worriedly after him.

The following afternoon, Monica was daydreaming in her job at the Ralph Lauren boutique. Rachel had helped her get the position as an extra hustle on the side, even though Monica knew where her true passion lay: in the kitchen.

Monica could feel Rachel's eyes on her now, along with many of their coworkers.

"She's thinking about Joey," one of them guessed.

"Joey? Why would I be thinking about Joey?" Monica asked coyly.

"So you're not thinking about him?" Rachel lifted an eyebrow. She started as her boyfriend's sister dashed up to her.

"Rache, can you keep a secret?" When Rachel nodded, however, Monica demurred. "No, I won't tell you!"

"She's out of her head!" one of Rachel's friends chittered. "What is going on with you, Monica?"

Though Monica was taciturn on details, the little she did tell strongly implied that she had fallen in love. Certainly, she had never had anyone make her feel as beautiful as her secret love did. She hadn't seen Chandler since her balcony last night, and was anxious to lay eyes on him again.

At closing time, Rachel and Monica were left to sweep the last of the mannequin displays. "Ross says he is going to take me out dancing tonight, after he finishes this rumble business."

"They're fighting the Tags again?" Monica asked, dismayed.

Rachel shrugged. "You know how seriously your brother takes family honor. When he gets something in his head, he goes after it. There is nothing to be done to dissuade the man – believe me, I've tried!" She went to retrieve her coat off the rack. "Coming?"

"Oh, you go on ahead, Rachel! I will lock up!" Monica tried to make it sound innocuous. In truth, she was stalling, waiting for Chandler to hopefully appear.

Appear Chandler did…. a few moments too early. He froze when he saw Rachel, who pursed her lips tightly in protective disapproval.

"Oh, you go on, Rachel! I will lock up!" The blonde imitated Monica mockingly. Monica bit her lip, wincing guiltily as her best friend rounded on Chandler. "And you! Coming here! Don't you have any sense at all?"

Chandler shrugged, going for a disarming grin, but it only got a loaded eyebrow from Rachel. "Who could possibly have any sense when they're twelve feet in the air?" Dashing to Monica, he lifted her up and spun her around. At rest in his arms, Monica turned to her brother's lover and bit her lip. "You won't tell Ross what you've seen, will you?"

Rachel sighed. "How can I see what is twelve feet over my head?" She stomped out, grumbling darkly.

Pulling each other close, Monica and Chandler shared a kiss in greeting. When they broke apart, he searched her face, detecting some distress in her normally bright eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Monica wrung her hands, worrying her bottom lip. "My brother and my…." She faltered, uncomfortable referring to Joey as anything. "…. and his friends are set to have a rumble with that Tag and your buddies."

"I know," Chandler sloughed off. "I tricked them into only going into a fair fight."

"You what?" Monica gaped.

Chandler just smiled. "Mon, they'll be wailing on each other with their bare hands – how much damage can they really do?"

Monica eyed him hard. "A lot." She drifted into him. "You must go and stop it," she pleaded. "I don't care that it's a fair fight – I don't want a fight at all! The fairest fights are only the ones that don't happen!" She peered up into his gorgeous blue eyes. "Promise me. That you'll go and stop it. For me?" And she smiled at him so sweetly that how could he ever deny her?

"All right, my love. I promise I will go and stop it."

Monica beamed and blushed. "So I am your love, then?"

Gazing at her, Chandler nodded dumbly, mesmerized by her. "I'd marry you tomorrow, if I could."

Even as Monica's eyes expanded at what was practically a proposal, her smile was radiant. "You know what's weird? That doesn't feel weird!" She sashayed coyly away from her. "Of course, my family wouldn't think so…. If you mean to win me, you'd have to ask my father."

Chandler played along, making a show out of turning to a mannequin in a suit and asking it for his 'daughter's' hand.

"He says Yes!" Monica squealed.

The couple ran away with the fantasy, making a game out of it until mannequins had been cast as Monica's mother, Rachel, and Tag respectively. Then all at once, a solemn weight descended over the imaginative play-acting, and Monica and Chandler found themselves kneeling before the front windows of the empty boutique, watching how the approaching sunset made the panes sparkle like stained glass.

Nothing about what happened next felt feigned to Monica and Chandler, as they both quietly gave vows that sounded as serious as anything either of them had uttered.

"I, Monica, take thee, Chandler…."

"I, Chandler, take thee, Monica…."

Holding a mock wedding ceremony, the pair of lovers encapsulated it with a kiss, captured in the dying rays of the sunlight.