Chapter 1: How I'm Sure I'll Be Your Boyfriend

Monica Geller scowled as she looked up at the sight that greeted her: another happy couple, arms slung around each other, practically canoodling, as they strolled past the bistro tables and rounded the corner where they could enter Central Perk proper.

This was why she almost never liked to have her coffee out on the sidewalk, not even in nice weather like this. And it wasn't just because the coffeehouse didn't offer enough bistro tables to begin with – certainly not enough for all her friends to gather around.

It was a beautiful, early summer's day. The heat was Southern California-perfect for a place like the Villages in Manhattan – the temperature just right. Perfect weather for couples to go strolling two by two and celebrate their love.

But not her. Not Monica Geller. She was single once more, and had been for the last several weeks.

While it had been an easy decision to make, to break up with Pete Becker – hell, in wanting to prioritize a Fighting prize over her, he had practically made her choice for her – the absence of a partner still stung. Which is what found Monica here, seated beside her best friend on an immaculate day and moping, all morose.

"Would you look at them?" she complained to Chandler. She picked at the cuffs of her jeans, the hangdog look she sported now worse than what could best be described as her brother Ross's resting bitch face, for how often he wore it. "I'm never gonna find a boyfriend again…. I'll die an old maid…."

"Oh, you're not gonna die an old maid…." Chandler pushawed. "Maybe an old… spinster cook…."

She'd walked right into that one, she supposed, but Chandler's quick wit once again never failed to bring a soft smile to her lips, albeit in this case a sad one. "…. Thanks…"

"Hey, now, besides, worse comes to worst…. I'll be your boyfriend."

A beat as Monica processed these words. An offer, really. He definitely wasn't serious, he couldn't be. Not her sardonic, sarcastic Chandler. She burst into chuckles, nearly giggles.

"Yeah, right!..." she snorted.

Chandler blinked, bemused, the frown on his face appearing strangely wounded, almost. "Why is that so funny….?"

"You made a joke, right? So I laughed!"

She expected him to give up the game and concede that she was in on the joke. It confused her when Chandler did not. From the way his handsome face furrowed into a hurt scowl, he seemed genuinely offended. "Yeah, a little too hard! What, am I not…. boyfriend material?"

"No…." she guffawed. "You're Chandler!" His expression didn't change, so Monica attempted some levity by giving him a 'one-of-the-guys' punch on the arm. "You know….. Chandler!"

Chandler's brows twisted, bemused and slightly annoyed. "OK, so we've established my name and hit me! But theoretically, you know: say we weren't friends. Say it's a blind date, I show up to your door, and I'm like, 'Hey, nice to meet you, hey…'" He threw his voice into something that he must have figured sounded suave, and this made Monica only chuckle more, amused.

"Well, I'd probably be scared of the guy using a fake voice…" she pointed out gently.

Chandler frowned in thought for a beat as he considered this. Then he shrugged, conceding her point. Still, something clearly nagged at him.

"I could so be your boyfriend…" he muttered not quite under his breath, sounding like a put-out little child.

Monica took pity on him. "I'm sure you could be a boyfriend. A great boyfriend, even."

"Just not with you?" Chandler lifted an eyebrow. He considered his words carefully, lest he phrase something in a way he would surely regret. "Pete was a rather glaring exception to your high standards."

"Eh," Monica made a noncommittal noise, all but agreeing with him.

"See? You don't move on from one charity case to dating another charity case!"

"You are not a charity case!" Monica twittered. "You lured Kathy away from Joey, didn't you? She was nice-looking. I mean…. I'd sleep with that – you know, if I were…"

"A raven-haired version of Carol? The lesbians would send themselves into the stratosphere!" Chandler quipped.

Monica smirked. For a moment, the pair of best friends fell into companionable silence, watching passersby. Monica attempted to distract herself by glancing at her watch, if only just so she didn't have to see the other couples strolling through the Villages on this clear day. When she glanced up at just the wrong moment, and spotted yet another happy pair, she pouted and let out a pining sigh.

Chandler turned his head to study her. "Can I ask you something?"

Monica grinned. "Sweetie, you can ask me anything…."

"Remember when you first kissed Pete?"

"Not really," Monica cringed in a way that showed her perfectly symmetrical front teeth. At Chandler's pointed look, she waffled. "OK, yeah, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately? As I recall, you liked it better than expected considering you sat on your hands for so long!"

"He was a fine enough kisser," Monica allowed. "He just…."

"…. Wasn't a pretty face?"

Always there with the ready finishes, the one-liners. "Yeah, that." Monica's lips pursed, puzzled. "Why are you asking me this…?"

Chandler curled into himself a little. "Well…. you'd say I have a pretty face, wouldn't you?"

Monica nickered out a laugh through her nose. "Don't let it go to your head, stud." A moment and then she acknowledged. "But, yes, you are quite handsome."

"So, suppose you kissed me? Could you see yourself kissing me?"

"Oh, noooo, not at all!" Monica chortled.

"I'm just saying! The whole reason you finally got off your tushy and kissed Pete was because you just wanted to see what it would be like." Chandler wiggled a little in his bistro seat, expression supremely confident. "Aren't you a little curious?"

"About kissing you?" Monica lifted an eyebrow skeptically. It was long past the point where he would have normally by now dropped a bit that wasn't landing. "Nah, can't say that I have…."

Chandler looked almost disappointed. There was a long silence. Monica glanced at her watch again, tapping her foot impatiently. The others were supposed to be here by now, except for maybe Phoebe, who had needed to walk a good distance to pick up her grandmother's cab. Where was everyone? They should have been here by now.

Finally:

"Monica…?"

"Yeah…?" she turned her head.

"…. I want to try something. Do you trust me?"

There was something so bashful, so nakedly vulnerable in Chandler's voice that Monica paused to listen. An openly vulnerable Chandler was exceedingly rare, enough that when he did appear, whatever was on his mind had to be important. She swallowed.

"I trust you more than anyone…" she expressed honestly.

Chandler nodded. "Come here," he beckoned.

Befuddled, Monica stood. Chandler took her head and guided her around the bistro table until she was standing over him in his chair. Baffled, Monica reserved judgment, waiting to see if an eye-roll or admonishing swat would be necessary. If he was going to do something like propose to her as a joke, because he felt sorry for her…

She sucked in a breath, startled when Chandler continued to tug on her hand, enough that she lost her balance and tumbled into his lap.

"Chandler! What are you doing….?!"

"An experiment," Chandler answered.

"What's the experiment? How long you can ogle my rack without drooling? Or before I catch on, whichever comes first."

"Calm down. I need to concentrate." Chandler lifted his eyes to Monica. "Just…. don't freak out, OK?"

Monica lifted an eyebrow, suspicious yet also curious. Of their own accord, her eyes darted to Chandler's lips.

Chandler's deep, impossibly blue eyes grew heavy, and he reached up a hand to caress her face in a way that was very intimate. More intimate than they as best friends had ever been.

"Chandler…?"

Monica watched, transfixed as Chandler leaned in closer to her. He's going to kiss me, she realized. She should have already leapt out of his lap by now and scolded him, but for some reason now she was frozen, as if in a trance.

Monica gasped in the split second before Chandler's lips closed over hers in a deep kiss.

He tasted…. astonishingly not terrible. Which was about the same assessment she had decided on when she had finally bitten the bullet and kissed Pete. No, better! Chandler's lips on hers tasted…. amazing….

Monica felt her eyelashes flutter, then swoon shut. Unconsciously, she leaned into the kiss. Returned it. Even kissed him back.

The kiss deepened, and just when it looked as though the passion was going to consume them both, Monica came to her senses and yanked out of the lip-lock sharply, abruptly.

"No!" she cried, her voice too weak and small, and she shivered in this balmy, spring-like day. "…. I shouldn't have done that…." She sounded breathless.

Chandler blinked, appearing dazed. "…. I'm sorry…." Well, he wasn't sorry he had kissed her – his lips still tingled from the pressure of hers.

Monica shakily rose out of his lap, slightly unnerved. She attempted to regain her own equilibrium with a joke even Chandler could appreciate. "Well, at least that time, you weren't drunk!" she quipped, in reference to a party some years back where Chandler had stuck his tongue down her throat.

Monica started to circle back around the bistro table. At that same moment, Joey rounded the corner of the coffeehouse at last, the jaunt in his step making him wobble like a bobble-head toy. He was putting far too much motion into his one free arm as he walked; the other cradled a cardboard grocery bag.

"Hey!"

Monica glanced up, and it took her a moment to register her composure. "Oh, hey! Oh, good, you brought food….!"

"No, just my luggage…." Joey gestured, deadpan. Because of course the starving actor wouldn't even own a proper suitcase.

A familiar horn honked, and the trio brightened as Phoebe's cab pulled up to the curb. Greetings were called all around.

"Hey, guys!"

"Hi!"

"Whoo! Alright, yeah!" Ross leapt out of the passenger side and rounded the car.

"Oh, I am having the best karma this week!" Phoebe exulted while Ross popped the trunk. "First, I find this woman who knew my parents, and then my client with the fuzzy back gives me his beach house!"

"Hmm, and what about that bike messenger you hit?" Ross drolled, amusedly.

Phoebe blinked. "Oh, I wasn't talking about his karma."

"Hey!" Rachel came strolling up, juggling two suitcases while sporting a gaudy looking….

"Hey, check out the hat!" Joey laughed.

Chandler peered closer, certain he had seen that piece of high-falutin' headwear somewhere before. …. He had! "Wait a minute, I know that hat!... I was taken aboard that hat!... They did experiments on me! - I can't have children!..."

"Seriously," Monica smirked. "Where did you get the hat?"

"Ross gave it to me."

"Yeah, I think she looks good!"

"Aww…." Rachel beamed, pleased. "Thank you…"

Chandler twisted his lips in bemusement. "Did he buy it for you, or…. win it for you?..."

"Well, excuse me, my fashion-impaired friends, I'm here to tell you that hats are back!" Rachel sniffed, as Ross loaded her bags into the trunk of the cab.

"And this time they've ganged up and formed one giant super hat!" Phoebe crowed, ignoring the flummoxed stares of the others.

Ross slammed down the hood of the cab's trunk and the group all turned climbing inside into a race to claim the best seats.

Even in the warmth of the cab and scrunched up where she was amidst the bodies of others, on this glorious spring day, Monica nevertheless still felt a chill.