A/N Thank you for your comments on the last chapter! And thank you for sticking with this!

"You will never understand just how much I love you, Monica Geller," Chandler told her between hot, languid kisses, made steamier by the scorching stream of water that rained down on the two of them from the shower head above.

She managed the smallest and saddest of smiles as she moved her lips softly to his neck and wrapped her arms tightly around him. She traced her fingers over the muscles in his back, pulling him in close, reveling in the sensation of his bare skin brushing against hers.

Monica could scarcely believe that the last time they had made love in the shower had been just two days ago, right before Kathy's unexpected visit to the apartment had shocked them to their core and kick-started the chain of events that had rocked their entire world.

Everything felt so different now. There had been no giggling this morning, no sultry looks, no flirtatious remarks, no playfulness at all. This morning she had followed Chandler into the bathroom like a lost puppy: The threat of being forcibly and semi-permanently removed from his embrace by the long arms of the law loomed large, and she could not bear to be separated from him for a second longer than absolutely necessary until that dreaded moment arrived.

She had climbed into the shower with him and made love to him wordlessly, feverishly, desperately; her need to bring him as physically close as possible, more potent than ever before. She could feel that his urgency and craving for intimacy matched her own, and that scared her. Because it meant that he knew what was going to happen, just as well as she did. They were coming for her.

Despite this, Chandler was doing a much better job of staying calm and acting normal than she was. She could see how hard he was trying to appear positive and buoyant, and how desperately he wanted to distract her from her anxiety, but she knew it was all a facade. She also knew it was one he had created entirely for her benefit, and she loved him for that.

"You've still got a load of suds in your hair, by the way," he informed her, "Come here."

He cradled her head tenderly in his hands and directed her gently into the jet of water, massaging her scalp carefully with his fingers.

She stared up at his piercing ocean eyes as he concentrated hard on removing all traces of shampoo and conditioner from the wet tangle of her hair, wanting to commit every precious second she was lucky enough to spend with him to permanent memory.

He reached for a comb and she closed her eyes as he raked it lightly and sensuously through her raven strands.

When he was done, he inspected her with a wistful smile of adoration before stepping out of the shower into the humid air of the bathroom and offering her a towel.

As he wrapped it around her like a cloak, he pulled on the edges drawing her towards him so that he could envelop her in an embrace.

She rested her head against his chest and reminisced with a sigh, "This reminds me of that time you came round to steal my beers after Phoebe moved out and Joey had just moved in. I was really sad, and you gave me the best hug. I was just in my towel."

"You told me I was beautiful." She added shyly.

"You are beautiful." he smiled softly at the memory, "God, How many years ago was that?"

"I dunno, 5 maybe?" she guessed, "You know, if you'd have kissed me at that moment, I would have kissed you back. In fact, I was kind of hoping you would. " she told him with a coy smile.

"Well it's a bit mean to wait until now to tell me that!" he chuckled.

"And just for the record, if you'd have kissed me at any point since the very first time I laid eyes on you, I'd have kissed you back" he told her honestly.

She narrowed her eyes and gave a skeptical smirk, "That's a huge lie. You'd have run a mile if I'd have tried to kiss you when I was an overweight teenager!"

"Oooh, I think you'd be surprised!" he laughed, "You have to remember I was a horny-as-hell, teenage dork with a terrible haircut. I would have kissed anybody who'd let me back then! I probably would have kissed Ross, if he'd tried it on."

"Wow, I think that's the sweetest thing anybody's ever said to me..." she shook her head sarcastically and jabbed him hard in the ribs. "And, for the love of God, please tell me nothing ever happened between you and Ross!"

"Pffft. Only in his dreams." Chandler quipped.

He could not quite believe they could even manage to make each other laugh at a time like this, and it made tears sting his eyes.

"Honestly though, if anyone had told me back then that I would be standing here with you now, that you'd be in my shower, all naked and sexy; Either when I was a dorky teenager, or when I was the dorky guy from across the hall; I would never have believed it. I still can't quite believe it, actually. You really do make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world, you know." He told her, caressing her cheek affectionately.

Monica gave a mirthless chuckle "There's nothing lucky about being around me, Chandler. In fact, I'm beginning to think I might actually be cursed."

"I mean it." Chandler whispered, brushing his lips against hers. "You are my everything, Monica. And don't you ever forget it".

Chandler knocked gingerly on the door to Apartment 20 before easing the door open. Rachel was sitting glumly at the table, picking at a half-eaten bowl of cereal.

"Hey Rach," he greeted her somewhat nervously, "Could I please borrow Monica's blender, she's struggling to eat and I thought maybe a smoothie might be a good way to get some food into her..."

"Sure," Rachel looked at him cheerlessly, "It's her blender...you might as well keep it over there, since shes basically moved in."

"No. I'll bring it back. She might want it here... I mean... She'll probably want to spend more time here again... When everything settles down," he rambled as Rachel frowned back at him.

"What's the latest with the police? Have they called again? Her mom said she'd spoken with her yesterday and she told Ross she was really worried about her..." Rachel anxiously probed.

"Uh yeah... She's pretty upset. But they haven't called again." Chandler confirmed.

Rachel brought her hand to her mouth, her face contorting in emotion before managing to ask him, "Do you think they're going to arrest her?"

"No." Chandler shook his head with certainty "They won't arrest her."

Rachel looked confused by his conviction, "But she told Judy that the detective really grilled her? That he seemed really suspicious of her?"

"She's just worried and stressed out" Chandler mumbled, "She's not going to be arrested."

"God, I hope not." Rachel shook her head sadly, "She has been through so much already..."

Chandler swallowed hard and nodded his agreement.

"Listen Rach, I actually have to go down to the Police Station in a while. They wanted to ask me a few questions." he told her in a low voice, "I haven't told Mon, because it will freak her out. Can you please just... look after her? While I'm down there?"

Rachel observed him with concern as she noted a crack in his voice.

"Are you sure she's OK, Chandler?" she asked him. She sensed that he was holding something back from her and a warning look crept into her eyes.

"She'll be fine," Chandler assured her, "Just keep an eye on her? Please? I know things have been difficult between the two of you, because of... well... because of me... "

Rachel shook her head remorsefully.

"But she needs you, Rach." He concluded softly.

Rachel looked like she might cry. "I'll keep an eye on her" she promised, "Are you going down there now?"

"No." Chandler looked at the floor and shuffled his feet awkwardly, "But soon. I'll make her a smoothie first."

Rachel nodded but eyed him dubiously as she did so. She could have sworn she could see tears in his eyes.

"Et voila! Here you go Pretty Girl." Chandler pressed a tumbler filled with freshly blended yogurt smoothie into Monica's hand and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks," she flashed him a grateful smile, before taking a swig and nodding her approval at his creation.

He cleared his throat and said casually "Uh.. I've washed up the blender, Rachel asked if you would take it back over there when we were done with it."

Monica frowned grumpily, "It's my blender! And Rachel hasn't prepared any food from scratch since... well ever!"

"I know. I think she just wants to see you." He told her gently.

"Well I don't want to see her." Monica grumbled.

"Please Mon," Chandler said beseechingly, his voice disconcertingly grave and his eyes large and somber.

"I don't even think she believes me when I say I didn't push Pete down those stairs! And I can't just forget the things she said about you Chandler! About us! "

"You have to!"

Monica flinched as Chandler's voice rose unexpectedly, and he immediately softened his tone and stroked her arm consolingly, "You have to, Mon. She's your best friend. You need... Just please let her be there for you. Can you please just try? For me?"

She looked back at him uncertainly, "What's going on Chandler? Have the police called or something?" she gulped, disconcerted by the desperation in his voice.

"No, they haven't called" he told her, his eyes sincere, "I just hate that there's this tension between you and Rachel. You need your friends around you, Monica."

"Fine," she said doubtfully, "I'll take the blender back, if it really means that much to you."

"Thank you" he told her, his voice barely a whisper, as he swept her into a hug and buried his face into her still slightly damp hair, breathing in the fresh scent of her shampoo.

She pulled away from him and looked at him uneasily, "Why are you being weird?" she asked him.

"I'm not being weird. You're weird!" he shot back in mock indignation, giving her a playful poke on the nose, eliciting a small smile from her.

"But I sure do love you." He added, dragging her closer towards him and kissing her deeply, with a passion she was not expecting. His sudden ardor caused Monica to let out a small moan of surprise against his lips, but she returned his kiss with enthusiasm, and was disappointed when Chandler eventually broke away.

"What was that all about? Do you want me to take back the blender or not?" She asked him breathlessly, her brow furrowed in frustration that he had halted proceedings.

As he smiled lovingly down at her, she could feel his yearning as he took in her disheveled hair and thoroughly kissed lips.

"Couldn't help it. You're just too irresistible for your own good, Geller. But yeah, I think you should take back the blender. " he confirmed, smoothing down her hair and tucking a wayward strand behind her ear.

She shook her head at him, gulped back the last of her smoothie and gathered up the blender.

"OK. I'll see you in a minute." she told him.

Chandler nodded.

"Love you." he murmured huskily.

He held open the door for her and watched as she entered her own apartment, shooting one final curious glance over her shoulder at him with those dazzling blue eyes.

Chandler took a deep, painful breath as he watched the door close behind her, and he sloped off desolately towards the stairwell.

As he reached the Police Station Chandler was surprised to acknowledge that he felt far less nervous than he had predicted he would. He took this to be a good sign, that he could feel confident that he was taking the correct course of action.

Leaving the apartment had actually been the worst part: He had been terrified that Rachel might have let slip to Monica that he was planning a visit to the Police Station, which might have allowed her to piece together what he was up to. Monica was a highly astute woman and it had been blatantly obvious that his behavior this morning had aroused her suspicion. She seemed to know him better than he knew himself a lot of the time, so it would have been no great surprise if she had worked out what he was planning to do, despite his having worked hard to keep it from her.

As he had fled Bedford Street, he had been dreading hearing her footsteps catching up to him, or her voice calling out his name in panic. The feeling that he was running away from her, or abandoning her, had made his heart feel heavy with guilt, but he knew that there was no way she would allow him to continue down this path if she found out.

And he was utterly convinced that this was the right thing to do.

Rachel had been absolutely correct earlier: Monica had been through way too much already. There was no way he could stand by and watch as they arrested her, interrogated her, and imprisoned her for a crime she did not commit. This was the only way he could guarantee that would not happen.

The way that detective had spoken to her yesterday had erased any faith Chandler might have had that justice would win out, that the police would accept that Pete's fate had been sealed by an accidental fall, and that he and Monica would finally be able to move on to the happier times she deserved.

As he looked back over the past year, from that first time he had landed that drunken kiss on Monica's lips, he had lost count of the times he had let her down: Running scared from her back to Kathy; The ridiculously futile attempts to resist the magnetic pull between the two of them that had allowed Becker to get his claws into her; Sabotaging her trial by finally admitting his feelings for her at the most inopportune time possible. There was no wonder Ross and Rachel had such a low opinion of him really.

Despite this multitude of abject failings, Monica had loved him through it all. He swallowed back a lump in his throat, knowing full well that what he was about to do would break her heart as much as it was breaking his own. But this was the only way to be absolutely sure that he could keep her from harm's way, he was sure of that. He could not renege on his promise to protect her again.

As he approached the reception desk he could hear the words he had rehearsed on his way over here emerge from his lips, "Hi, I'm Chandler Bing, I need to speak with Detective Connor about the death of Pete Becker."

The receptionist regarded him neutrally, "Take a seat over there Mr Bing, I will see if he's available".

"It's really important that I speak to him", he asserted steadily "It was my fault Becker died. I was the one that pushed him".