A/N: I can't believe I got this chapter done! And still a few hours left to commemorate the Friends series finale with this update. Whoo! I hope this chapter was worth the wait and that it will carry through until the next chapter, which will be another wait but not as long as this one (I hope). I am going on a vacation later this week and will be gone for a week. Honestly, RL has been nuts with work. I'm still feeling the whiplash from behind-the-scenes stuff and trying to get my seniors to finish their assignments. If anyone is a student… do your teachers a favor and get it done. Sometimes we want a break from the nagging.

And now…

What you have been waiting for.

Chapter 5

The inexplicable high that Chandler felt after he had overheard Monica calling him her friend was too good to be true. He should have known that and still he had been hopeful that there was a fresh slate between them.

"We're even now, Chandler. You helped me when I needed it the most and I returned the favor."

Those words still stung. Had she felt she had owed him all these years? He never saw it like that. In the moment it felt right to stand up to that pompous Rick and put that asshole in his place. Even though he had come super close to being a Chandler stain on the floor.

Then again, could he fault her for being aloof?

Chandler retreated into his office and spent the rest of the day trying to occupy his thoughts with the pile of paperwork on his desk. Yet, his gaze would aimlessly trail over to the glass paneling around his door to see Monica's back.

They say that time heals all wounds, he thought wryly. Clearly that is a crock.

He really thought things were going well between them. At least in a friendly sense. Of course, he replayed a lot of their interactions and it had felt reminiscent of the early days in their friendship. Until that day in the break room when the topic of relationships was brought up.

It was like a switch had been flipped. Not just for Monica but for him as well. A reminder about why those years passed as they did.

How could something like that happen? What happened to those two people who had bonded over warm milk and their complicated relationships with their parents?

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, Chandler would admit she had been the only person in his life he had truly confided in about his parents. There had never been another where he came close or remotely felt compelled to tell. Even as close as he and Ross became during their college years to where Chandler became his best man. Not once did he tell Monica's brother the full story or truth about the Bings.

Although he couldn't forget that she had kept that to herself all this time. She didn't have to do that and yet she did. She kept that confidence even when they grew apart. He couldn't understand why she was willing to do that, but then brushed off her defending him to his employees like it was a transaction.

It was conflicting, contradictory, and confusing. Were they friends or not?

Chandler rubbed his temples, sighing deeply.

What went wrong?

If he had to pinpoint when the trouble began, then he would have to go back to that damn college mixer. The very same night where he had his shining proud moment and what inevitably be his downfall.

xXx

He and Monica did dance together, although it abruptly ended when she couldn't keep it together and kept laughing at his "dance moves." Not that what he did was categorically a dance move when it was more like flailing limbs and gyrating hips. Chandler didn't have the heart to feel insulted when she was beaming from ear to ear, her eyes lighting up, and the earlier tears were gone.

A happy Monica was worth being the joke.

She excused herself to use the ladies' room and he was alone once more. Part of him debated if he should tell Ross what happened. Granted, the situation was over and as far as Chandler was concerned, it was resolved. Though being an only child, he decided if he had a sibling then he would want to know.

It was the right thing to do.

But where the Hell was Ross?

Chandler hadn't been able to find his roommate not after Ross made that ridiculous proposition that he should distract Monica just so Ross could make a move on Rachel. And there weren't that many guys who had an afro.

He made his way to the outskirts of the room, walking past a group, and over to the vending machine where his eyes widened in shock.

Tuck against the wall with the vending machine shielding them was Ross making out with Adrienne Turner.

Not only did they have a pact about Missy but also Adrienne was off-limits. Yet here was Ross violating the pact! Egregiously violating the pact with roving hands and having the audacity to beg her not to tell Chandler what they were doing. It didn't even matter that Adrienne had retorted that no one was going to hear about this.

Chandler quickly turned his face and began walking away, his chin quivering. He wasn't going to cry but the knife was already doing a fine job in twisting in his chest.

Out of all the girls they knew on campus, Adrienne was the one that Chandler had fantasized about the most. She was on a level of hotness that was different from Missy Goldberg. While he knew he had zero chance in hell to land a date let alone a kiss from Adrienne, she was the ultimate dream girl.

And the pact clearly stated that any girl that was the ultimate dream girl was to forever be unattainable so that she could remain on the fantasy pedestal for the boy who longs to be with her.

He really, really liked her.

Yet, his so-called his best friend slash bandmate was making out with his ultimate dream girl!

That was… that was… the ultimate betrayal!

Chandler stopped and thought about going back and confronting Ross. He confronted Rick already so he could go back and grabbed him by the shoulders and…

Who was he kidding? He couldn't punch his best friend. And that was the part that sucked the most. There was no way he could physically hurt him.

Unless…

Two could play the same game. He will kiss someone that Ross liked! That will get him back and make him feel the same bitter anguish that Chandler felt to have the ultimate dream girl fantasy ripped apart.

The obvious choice would be Missy, but since she always hung out with Rick and Paula that might be a bad idea. And he didn't want Rick Asher to take another swing at him, especially since Monica wasn't nearby to intercept.

Monica.

That would certainly get into Ross's craw and… He pinched his lips as his entire body shuddered at the notion of using Monica in such a cruel way. Did he not just disabuse her brother about using her? That would be a dick move after he had come to her defense not that long ago. And it just left a sour aftertaste in his mouth that kissing Monica would be serving as payback.

No, he couldn't do that to her.

If he was going to kiss someone else… someone that Ross liked then it would have to be someone who wouldn't take it personally or someone who wouldn't be that affected if Chandler planted a big, wet one on them.

It was then the lightbulb went off in his head as there was one other person at this party that fit that description.

He easily found Rachel again on the dance floor, still holding a red cup in her hand. Monica hadn't returned yet so it would be easy for Chandler to go up to the high school senior and kiss her. That would really get Ross. To go years dreaming and fantasizing about her and only for Chandler to swoop in and steal that knowledge on what it was like to feel those lips.

But as devious and diabolical as that would be (especially if Chandler could turn it into a song just to further spite his roommate), he couldn't approach her.

Rachel was cute, yes, but she wasn't Chandler's type. He also suspected that she probably didn't really know his name and she classified him only as "Ross's roommate."

His shoulders sagged. Getting back at Ross was easier said than done. And he ran out of possible girls that were present to even kiss.

Too bad Mrs. Geller wasn't around, he thought drolly. Even so, that was just as repugnant since he had zero desire to kiss her.

Chandler was thinking he should do something else. Like messing around with his dinosaur toys. Maybe set up a reenactment when they went extinct. That would get Ross back for kissing Adrienne and it would provide endless entertainment and amusement.

He could probably sneak away and get it staged and then return without being noticed (then again, would anyone notice?). With his thoughts running rampant, maybe he should have a cigarette to calm himself down. It had been a while since he had a smoke…

Before he could, Chandler happened to notice that Rachel's movements were getting unsteady, and he smacked his forehead.

The red cup! How could he have forgotten about her drinking? He hadn't even talked to Monica about it, and he only let it slide all things considered. However, there was her best friend getting wasted and the other party revelers were oblivious to the underage teen.

For how long, though? Chandler knew from his own parents' soirees and parties that imbibing too much could lead to unwanted advances. And he did feel a sense of responsibility for their visitors while the one person who should was too busy sticking his tongue down a certain girl's throat.

He rushed over to Rachel as her dancing came to a stop. She lifted her cup only to pout at finding it empty. Her eyes were a little glassy, but she managed to stand upright even with the heels she wore.

"Say, Rachel, I think you had enough," Chandler said to her, taking the cup from her hand.

She blinked each eye independently as she scrunched up her nose as she tried to focus on him.

"Hey… you're in college and—and a wand."

"Close. Band," he replied. "How many have you drank? You know we—"

The rest of his words were cut off when she flung around his neck and pulled him down to her level as she mashed her lips to his. He winced as her teeth hit his and all he could taste was the beer permeating her breath.

Chandler carefully pried her hands away from his neck as he reared back. He couldn't believe the irony that he was going to kiss Rachel only to toss the idea out, and she ended up kissing him regardless. Well, it was no song inspired kiss. Nevertheless, he held her hands to help her keep her balance, which was a good thing as she suddenly flopped against him.

"Rachel?" He wrapped his arms around her and tried to help her on her feet only to see her eyes were closed and she was breathing in a deep, relaxed way. "Just great," he mumbled. A passed-out girl in his arms wasn't exactly high on his list of what he wanted to happen at the mixer. And then the image this now presented of him being completely sober and an unconscious teen in his embrace made him break out in a panicky sweat.

If Ross saw them like this… jealousy would be the furthest thing from his mind. And dear God she was really heavy! He could feel his arms already starting to tremble and any longer he might drop her.

"Um, Chandler?"

He jerked his head in the direction of Monica's voice. A relieved exhale escaped him that it was her. He barely registered the strange expression on her face. "Thank God! She passed out."

"She—what?!" Monica hurried over, and she immediately reached around to help hoist her friend away from him, so he wasn't bearing the brunt of her deadweight. Again, he was impressed with Monica's show of strength. Of course, this wasn't the time to compliment her.

"Let's take her back to the room," he told her.

Monica nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

He wished he could say he was strong enough to carry Rachel, but Monica shouldered most of her friend's weight against her while Chandler kept a loose grip around her waist. He kept hoping that Rachel wouldn't suddenly wake and decide to purge herself over them.

They got her into the dorm and then laid her down on Chandler's bed. He went to get a wastebasket as Monica brushed her friend's hair away from her face. He put it down where it was within reach as Monica sat on the edge of the bed, holding Rachel's hand. It was clear that she was worried for the other girl, but he could also see the same clouded look in her eyes that she had earlier.

It would seem his cheering up tactic didn't last as long as he wanted.

"Monica, I hope you're not still upset about what Rick and Paula said."

"Wouldn't you be?" she softly replied.

"You shouldn't. They don't even know you."

"I guess you and Ross were right about us drinking," she said, changing the subject. "I can't believe Rachel passed out. I hardly felt a thing."

He raised a brow. "Well, it was a good thing she passed out on me and not someone else."

"Yeah." He had to strain his hearing to catch that quiet agreement. He thought about saying she didn't have to speak in whispers around Rachel. She was out and wouldn't even know they were in the room if they talked loudly.

"Look, I know it's exciting to be at a college party," he continued. "And it's easy to get caught up in the moment and want to partake in what the cool kids are doing, but this is why Ross, and I didn't want you to accept any drinks from anyone except us."

"We're not a couple dumb kids," Monica retorted, glaring at him. "Besides, if you're going to lecture us… wouldn't it be best when Rachel isn't unconscious?"

"I'm not lecturing. I'm just speaking as a concerned friend. Ross would do the same…" If he wasn't making out with Adrienne, he thought glumly. "I should probably—"

"Are you going to tell Ross?"

Chandler hesitated. Should he? On the one hand he didn't want to keep this a secret, but he was mad at Ross. And he really didn't think he had any position to lecture the girls as they were neither his sisters nor biologically related. He blamed Ross for this and for letting this responsibility fall into his hands. It wasn't fair. However, there was no real harm. Sure, Rachel had passed out, but she was breathing and was lightly snoring. Monica was no worse for wear. The alcohol must have worked itself out of her.

Or she didn't drink as much as Rachel.

But as Chandler looked at Monica, he couldn't get mad at her. He had his first drink when he was ten. Could he be a hypocrite and criticize her?

"I won't tell him," he said finally. "If things had gone differently…"

Her head bobbed. "I understand." Quietly, she added, "Thank you."

He frowned. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Monica feigned a smile. "Of course, I am. You betcha! I-I'm breezy!"

He scratched the back of his head. He hadn't the foggiest what that meant but shrugged. "All right. Do you want to head back…?"

"Actually," she started. "I do feel a little tired and I should probably keep an eye on Rachel." She rolled back her shoulders. "That was a bitchin' party!"

Chandler didn't know what to say to that. It was a little odd coming from her. Instead of commenting on it, he said good-night and returned to the mixer. He felt better knowing the girls were in the room. Although, he hadn't decided yet on how to get back at Ross. He wouldn't count the drunken Rachel kiss as it was hardly enjoyable, and Ross hadn't seen it. A cursory glance over at the vending machine revealed Ross and Adrienne were gone. Did he even want to go down that path and think about what they were doing now?

Wait…

Chandler saw Adrienne with her group of friends. Now, Ross…

He was at the pool table chatting with a pretty blonde. It took Chandler half a second to recognize it was that chick from Composition 101.

Carol!

"He's getting around," Chandler muttered.

Then his brows pinched together. His roommate was looking rather chummy and carefree. Had he not noticed that his sister and crush were nowhere around? What the Hell!? Chandler could feel his anger building. Ross was scoring left and right, and what did Chandler have? A less than stellar kiss from a seventeen-year-old. And he wasn't even attracted to her!

He strode towards his roommate and yanked on his arm, whirling him around.

"What the hell—Chandler?!" Ross stared at him in incredulity. "W-w-what…?"

Chandler glared. If he wasn't mistaken, Ross shrunk back and there was a hint of guilt behind his eyes. It was on the tip of his tongue to start berating him about Adrienne and that he saw them, and he heard him. To his astonishment, he said:

"There you are! Say, have you seen Monica and Rachel?"

He felt a little vindicated when Ross's eyes widened, and he scanned the room for them. The knowing worry began to set, and Chandler gave it a second for him to fret. The cherry on top was Carol asking who they were.

"My little sister and her best friend," Ross explained. "They were just here! Where did they go?"

"They're back in the dorm," Chandler said. "Good to know you're watching out for them. Wait a minute. That was me!"

"Uh, could you excuse us?" Ross told Carol. He walked to the side so Chandler could join him to speak privately. "Dude don't scare me like that! I thought—"

"Good! It got your attention. They are your guests! You should be keeping an eye on them. Not me. Just be grateful they're fine."

"Fine?" echoed Ross. "Chandler, did something happen?"

He inwardly winced after he had promised Monica he wouldn't tell. "N-no. Nothing happened. Besides, I thought you were going to impress Rachel."

"I was but…" Ross exhaled. "You saw it. I'm practically invisible to her. Perhaps I should move on. And Carol is pretty cool—"

"Just like that, huh?" Chandler shoved his hands in his pockets. Adrienne then Carol. No. Rachel, Adrienne, and Carol. The whiplash was astounding. He mulled over if he should bring up that Ross broke the pact. He wanted to be a jerk about it, but now, Chandler was finding it difficult to hang onto that anger. If Chandler was honest with himself, the Adrienne thing was starting to ebb away, even though the betrayal still hurt. He was feeling more agitated over Ross's dispassionate attitude with the girls who were now upstairs. Especially when they could have been taken advantage of by anyone here who thought they could get lucky and get away with it.

It didn't sit well with him.

"You know, go ahead and flirt with Carol. I hope you score. Because frankly, you have been a shitty brother and friend this weekend. You might as well as spend all your time with her."

Ross was taken aback. Before he could respond, Chandler beat him to the punch. "Forget it. I'm going to go back to the room and hang out there." He turned around and walked away from him. He nodded to Carol as he passed by and kept going. He'll go up to the room and see if Monica wanted to hang out or something if she was still awake.

"Hey Chandler."

He halted. The last person he thought he would run into—Missy Goldberg—was now blocking his path. He couldn't help it. He reflexively glanced around for Rick Asher. Then he jumped when her hand landed on his chest. He knew his eyes were bugging out of his skull, but he couldn't believe that Missy was touching him!

"M-M-Missy! H-hi," he stammered.

She grinned coyly as she glanced at him through her lashes. "I heard what you had said to Rick and Paula. That was gutsy."

"Y-yeah." Chandler shifted his weight. "I'm certain Rick's fist has an appointment with my face, but I'm not really in the mood—"

Missy laughed. "Well, you weren't wrong. I know they're my friends, but sometimes they need a piece of humble pie." Tossing back her hair, she continued to bat her eyes at him.

It took Chandler a second to process, but he had to wonder if this was actually happening. Was Missy Goldberg flirting with him?! Had he somehow entered The Twilight Zone?

"Just to be clear… are you hitting on me?"

Her fingers continued to stroke his chest. "Totally."

"When you say 'totally'…"

"It was sweet of you to stand up for that girl. You were her hero."

Chandler sheepishly chuckled. "I don't know if hero is—yes, yes. You can say that. Chandler Bing the hero."

"Oh, you were definitely her hero."

God, was his face heating up? He gave her a lopsided grin. "Really?"

"Uh-huh." Missy then started to pluck at the fabric of his shirt. "It was cute. You must be something for those schoolgirls to like you. Not that they could stand a chance."

"Huh?" His smile turned to that of confusion as she laughed breathlessly.

"It's just… she is no competition," Missy stated. "There's no way she could get a boy as she is. The other prettier one might have a better chance, but I bet I can beat her kiss."

Before he realized it, she was leaning up towards him as her arm wound around the back of his neck. All at once a fantasy was becoming reality where Missy Goldberg wanted to kiss him! Chandler had desperately wanted a chance like this and now there she was, standing in front of him, puckering up and he pushed her away.

Even Missy seemed startled as her brows furrowed together. "What are you doing?"

Good question. Chandler knew there was a dozen or more guys who would have killed to be in his shoes about now. After all, how many could boast that Missy Goldberg was practically throwing herself at him? Yet, Chandler would have gladly (and happily) traded places with some other guy. Any attraction or feeling he might have felt towards her was shattered into a million tiny pieces after her comments about Monica.

"Not kissing you," he retorted to her bewildered and comical countenance.

It took a good minute for it to hit him that he had rejected Missy Goldberg. Him! Chandler Bing! He turned her down and walked away without a backwards glance. All because she had crossed a line and insulted his friend.

His knees felt a little wobbly, but he kept moving purposefully away from the mixer. It wasn't until he reached his floor that he slapped his hand against the closest wall to let it really sink in what he had done. He seriously left her there with God knows how many watching it unfold. He knew talk would spread about how much of an idiot he was for missing this golden opportunity.

But Chandler couldn't find it in him to regret it. How could he? If she hadn't said what she said… well, yeah, he might have been making out with her at that very moment.

It was all pretty surreal and the hammer in his head was beginning to pound.

Pinching the flesh between the bridge of his nose, Chandler took a deep breath. Then he continued to his dorm. He noticed the bedroom light was off, but he still went ahead and opened it.

Rachel was out like a light, her soft snores now picking up in volume. The good thing she was sleeping it off, but he had no idea what to expect with the hangover she was no doubt going to have. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he was able to make out Monica's shape on her brother's bed. She was lying on her back, but as far as he could tell, she was still wearing her clothes and hadn't changed into her pajamas. Maybe it had been in solidarity with Rachel since she was still in her outfit. Chandler wouldn't be surprised because that was the kind of person—no, friend—that Monica was.

And then he heard the little hitch in her breathing, an almost rattle, that he couldn't mistake. Silently, he tip-toed to the bed and there was just enough light coming off his alarm clock to see a wet streak on her pale cheek.

Chandler's heart lurched at the sight. It wasn't fair that people like Rick, Paula, and even Missy were judging her due to her weight. They weren't seeing what he saw, which was an incredible human being… the best and who was becoming one of his favorite people. Monica was being overlooked or ignored and it just sickened Chandler to no end. And all he kept thinking was how nothing this weekend visit had gone according to plan.

Disappointment was the flavor of the week.

But then an idea flitted in his head. It almost sounded like something his mom would write if she were going to go a wholesome route (totally laughable). Yet, Chandler thought it was a good idea. Yes, this idea did occur to him once already, but at the time it was more out of spite. Now, the more he thought about it… the more he was convinced this was going to turn everything around. Monica deserved to have a pleasant experience this weekend.

He was going to make it happen.

Ironically, Chandler had to give props to Missy for giving him the idea. She said that he had been Monica's hero. Well, he might not look like the conventional hero or even come remotely close to what people would expect of a hero. And somehow, he was okay with it.

There was a certain level of anonymity in the darkness and that college life had already introduced the girls to how anyone could show up unannounced to hang out if the door was unlocked. It was the perfect cover, the perfect setup. Just a touch of mystery and hopefully a good memory that she would hold onto.

No harm whatsoever.

Oddly, Chandler didn't have to prep himself or work up the nerve. It was almost as natural as he could feel as he leaned over Monica to brush his lips with hers. A delicate caress, gentle… breeze like, and yet it managed to ricochet through him into his very core. He let out a soft gasp, pulling away, but he wasn't prepared for Monica—her eyes still closed—to slide her fingers into his hair and her chin arching as she met his lips in another kiss.

This time it wasn't a simple skimming of lips. There was a languid, almost lazy gliding that he thought she might still be sleeping and was reacting to a dream she might be having. It didn't occur to him that he might have awakened her or worse… have her wake up in fright. Yet her eyes were still firmly closed making him believe she was still in dreamland.

His heart raced, his body rigid, his eyes wide, and his arms stiff like a pole sticking out behind him. He was afraid to move in case he did wake her and hoped for the loosening hold to extract himself while at the same time he desperately was trying not to think about how sweet she tasted…

Until she let out a quiet moan and her fingers tightened around the tiny hairs that it was possible she wasn't as asleep as she portrayed.

The sound sent tiny shockwaves through Chandler, the blood thundering loudly in his ears, that he forgot about where he was or that Rachel was a couple feet away or that Ross could return at any moment. Instead, his eyes clamped shut as the tender kiss turned passionate. He hadn't realized his arms fell back to his side or that his hand was drifting over until he grazed the swell of her sweater where he instinctively settled his palm over her breast and began to subtly rub in a clockwise circle.

His erection came hard and fast as Monica trembled under his touch and her moans became louder.

That snapped Chandler out of it as he bodily removed himself from Monica, his chest rapidly moving as he stared at her. But her eyes stayed closed as she murmured insensibly.

He whipped his face over to Rachel who remained in her state of oblivion. Too much. His skin was hot, and he couldn't breathe despite the rise and fall of his chest.

Chandler scrambled out of the room, his hands nervously running and pulling on his hair. He never thought he would react as he did with a seemingly innocent kiss, and that was his intention, but he could still feel the imprint of her mouth and her soft curves that Chandler was half-tempted to turn back and really wake her up to continue the impromptu make-out session.

And as quickly as the idea came, the quicker it dashed with the sobering reminder that it was Monica—Ross's little sister, Monica! His friend and his roommate who entrusted him to be alone with her. The same girl who made him warm milk and would confide in him as he did with her. The same girl who he came to her defense (and also his), and he only wanted to do something nice, and he made out with Monica Geller! Made out and felt her up too!

It was a knee jerk reaction, he told himself. It was nothing. Nothing.

He let out a shuddery exhale as he forced his body to calm down. See? No big deal. You had a physical reaction because she was a girl and she kissed you back and you touched her boob. To her, it was all just a dream. It was nothing. Nothing.

Sleep. He needed sleep. Chandler went over to the futon and laid down, keeping his back to the room. His heart rate was slowing down back to normal, and he was beginning to close his eyes when Ross entered the dorm. His eyes flew up as his body tensed. He didn't want Ross to see he was awake, so he kept still and listened carefully as he opened the bedroom door.

Chandler didn't dare to change his position even as Ross came back out, whistling softly as he laid down on the floor and made himself comfortable with a sleeping bag, pillow, and blanket. He thought for sure Ross would shake him awake to see if they could switch places. Perhaps this was his way of apologizing to Chandler and that was all right. Because if Ross did try to wake him, he might have accidentally blurted out his transgressions.

Eventually, he fell into a fitful sleep. By morning, Chandler convinced himself he had overreacted. Even when Monica was flushing prettily, he told himself that it wasn't him who did that, but her mystery dream man that made it all better. And when he hugged her goodbye, Chandler was thoroughly convinced that his friendship was restored to its platonic state in his mind.

Just as it should have been.

xXx

Yes. Chandler was certain that was the night that started it all. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Boy, was that the truth. His well-meaning gesture had backfired on him with that single spark in her kiss.

Not to mention that was the first time he had touched a woman's breast.

Nevertheless, Chandler convinced himself that his hormones were the culprit. It could have happened with any woman. Monica just happened to be "any woman." Not that she was "any" anything. He liked her and she was a friend, and he was a red-blooded nineteen-year-old who had previously flirted with one of many crushes he had. Yes, Missy's true colors didn't win him over, but he was riding that high that the flirtation happened in the first place.

Basically, there was an explanation behind the series of events that took place that night. And Chandler was able to shelve that memory after being on pins and needles that Monica would mention it or worse that Ross would find out and ask him if he saw anyone come into the room or out.

Locked away; tightly bound. Out of sight, out of mind.

Then just like that, he fell into the comforting pattern and routine of talking to Monica on the phone and the occasional hanging out when she visited or when he was invited to the Geller house. In fact, the next time she came back to campus, Ross was a lot more attentive to his sister. He even bought groceries for her to prepare a meal for all of them to make up for the last time. The three of them hung out and it was a lot of fun.

It was also around that time that Ross and Carol were starting to date, and there were plenty of times when it was only he and Monica together. The kiss was nothing more than a faded, distant recollection.

While Chandler believed he had forgotten it, he could now see that it really planted a seed that was buried deeply. So deep in fact that when it finally sprouted, there lied the root of the problem. What eventually became the wedge between them.

None of it was Monica's fault.

But I did ruin a good thing. No matter how hard I try… I screw things up.

Maybe Chandler was tempting fate again with trying to befriend her. Maybe Monica didn't want that.

And still he kept replaying how Monica had referred to him as her friend. The anger in her voice was authentic and sincere. She might have insisted it was because of the past she did it, but Chandler thought he should try.

At the very least he should let it be Monica to decide if they could be friends again. If she couldn't, then he would respect that. They would just be vice president and assistant. He could work with her until she found her dream chef's job.

After all, she deserved that much.

xxXXxx

Sometime passed and Chandler needed to gather his department together for a meeting. It was the typical standard meeting that could easily be done as a memo or an email, but the big wigs insisted these meetings be done. Then he would have another boring and pointless meeting with the big wigs to recap what was discussed and then pass it on to the team.

Just another reason why he loathed the job. Meetings for the sake of meetings to appear important and significant when it was counterproductive and stupid. He knew it and everyone else knew it, but his hands were tied.

The whole gang was sitting around the conference table and Monica was seated to his right. Her notepad was poised in her lap with her pen to dictate the highlights.

He gave her a warm smile in greeting, and she returned it, but it didn't seem to reach her eyes. Chandler mentally frowned but wasn't surprised. If it was like anything between them these past several days, then it was maintaining a respectable and professional distance. However, he noticed something he hadn't before. She seemed preoccupied.

There was little time to spend on it though as he needed to get the meeting going.

"All right let's start with the last quarter's data."

It was difficult to feign any enthusiasm, but Chandler mustered the Boss Man Bing persona that got him this far. If anyone knew him at all, then they would see it was a mask he wore. He had to withhold the amused grin when he recalled Monica's incredulous, eyebrow-raising look at her first meeting. When they had coffee together, she admitted she had been perplexed, trying to reconcile the Chandler Bing she had known with the present Chandler Bing. It then became something of an inside joke between them where they would exchange a secretive smile. He wanted to remind her that the immature college boy still lurked under the suit.

Now, she wasn't looking in his direction or trying to catch his eye when she bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing over the absurd acronyms. Now, her countenance was every bit as stoic and emotionless as a consummate professional.

It didn't sit well in his belly.

Not that there was much he could do to change it. He was determined to leave the ball in Monica's court.

At least there is one good thing about this meeting, he thought. It was at the part where everyone either paired up or worked on their own to review the forms and check the figures. This was also one of the prime opportunities for Chandler to walk around and check in with each person. It was another difference between him and the other leaders in this company. While Chandler hated the work, he did care about the people. And it wasn't like he was going out of his way or came across as insincere. He wanted to know what was going on in their lives.

He understood what it means for the boss to remember the tiny details.

So, Chandler made his rounds and making his inquiries and filing away the responses.

Jason's son, Keith, has a big game coming up. A few scouts from colleges will be there.

Lisa's mother's hip surgery was a success and she's antsy to resume her gardening, but not until she is healed up and the doctor gives her all clear.

Gloria's cat, Marlin, was found by a neighborhood kid. Her family couldn't have been more thrilled.

Tom's daughter, Leslie, is waiting for her college admissions.

There were even a couple laments over the recent loss of the Rangers, and a celebration of a Knicks win.

When he approached Carla, he asked her how her dad and son were doing. Her dad had been ill and her eleven-year-old broke his arm after attempting to climb a tree. Both had happened around the same time, and he could detect the stress in and around her eyes. Her husband, Charlie, was doing his best to help with the chores and he apparently almost started a fire after accidentally leaving the metal cover of a frozen lasagna in the oven.

Normally, he would have chuckled at the lasagna story (Charlie's ineptness in the kitchen was legendary anecdotes), but Carla was clearly distressed. Chandler didn't have much to relate to, so he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"It'll get better. Maybe this will unlock some hidden cooking talent from Anthony. Even with a broken arm, he could do better than Charlie."

Carla did laugh and she gazed at him graciously. "Thank you, Mr. Bing."

"Chandler. We've known each other for how long now? I told you before that the title won't change that."

"No. I guess not," she replied introspectively. If he wasn't mistaken… there was a flash of guilt behind her brown eyes. Even her cheeks had a tinge of pink in them as she looked off to the side.

He followed her gaze and for a second… momentarily locked eyes with Monica. She was looking in his direction, but then averted her eyes to her notepad.

Chandler moistened his lips, taking a deep breath. Part of him wished he knew what was going through her head. Knowing it was farfetched, he turned on his heel to move to the next person: his old pal Howie.

It still troubled him that someone he had befriended on the first day would secretly mock him. They were both hired around the same time and Chandler had tried to promote Howie, but he insisted on staying where he was. He didn't think Howie felt overlooked or upset about it. He had been certain of it.

Or so he thought.

Chandler shifted his eyes to Howie's ring finger. The dark wedding band was still there, but he knew that Howie and his wife Mary were going through a rough patch. They had been married for five years, which was still fairly young, but this wasn't the first time they had had problems.

Chandler was invited to the wedding, and even then, there had been signs of trouble brewing. Nothing super major, in his opinion, but Mary seemed to be upset for no apparent reason. Howie couldn't make his new bride smile. He had learned that she had been unhappy that her new husband had forgotten to tell a family member they were to walk down the aisle with a memory picture of Howie's grandmother. The person still made it down the aisle with the picture, but because he didn't say something ahead of time… it had put her in a bad mood.

It was like that off and on as long as Chandler could remember. Lately, it seems longer than normal. He hadn't seen Mary attend any of the office parties or just stop by to stop by for quite some time. Chandler didn't want to put much stock in the water cooler talk that Howie was heading towards divorce.

He much preferred the truth from the horse's mouth.

But now wasn't the time to ask Howie pointblank.

"Hey, Howie. How's it going?"

"Can't complain."

"How's Mary?" he quietly asked.

Howie's nails tapped the table. "You don't have to do this."

"What?"

"The niceties."

"I want to know. I haven't seen Mary and—"

Howie sighed. "It's nothing. It'll blow over. Just some space is needed."

"We can talk later," Chandler suggested, sensing there was more to the story. "My door is always opened."

Howie nodded; his lips pressed firmly together.

Chandler continued walking around until he made his way back to his seat next to Monica. The meeting came to an end after he told a little joke to add some levity before he dismissed them. He stood by the door to give one last nod to each person.

Monica was one of the last to leave, and together they walked back to his office for her to type up the minutes. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her studying him. Her lips were pursed in contemplation as her brows knitted together. Then as quickly as he saw it, it was gone.

He debated if he should say something. Or maybe he was overthinking it. Or it's not what I think it is.

They went to their respective workplaces. Chandler finished the paperwork he had on his desk and while waiting for Monica to finish the notes he resumed his game of solitaire on the computer.

He didn't get far when Monica gave a quick knock and entered. Chandler glanced up to thank her when he realized Howie was standing behind her.

"Here's the minutes and Howie wanted to talk to you," she explained.

"Okay, sure. Could you hold my calls?"

"No problem." She gave Howie a small grin and a thumbs up before she went out, closing the door behind her.

Chandler pushed back his chair to stand and smoothed out his tie while he moved in order to perch on the edge of his desk. He had a feeling what it was and didn't want to appear like he was Boss Man Bing.

He was simply Chandler.

"What's up?"

Howie stood there awkwardly for a moment, then slid into one of the chairs across from his desk. "Mary left me."

Chandler could tell this wasn't easy for him to admit. In fact, he didn't realize it would go that far. Mary had her moments, but she would eventually get over whatever grievance she had. Clearly that was no longer the case.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "How are you holding up?"

Howie shrugged. "I'm still processing it. I think she will come back. It's not the first time she walked out, but this is the longest she has stayed away."

"How long?"

"It's been three weeks."

"Have you talked to her?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "She's not returning my calls. I know she is at her sister's, but Whitney told me to give her space. I even tried going to the apartment and they wouldn't let me in. She never stayed mad at me this long. Everyone I know thinks this is the end. My dad gave me a number to a divorce lawyer yesterday."

Chandler's brows rose. "What do you think?"

"I don't know. On one hand, I want to make it work. It's just another hurdle. On the other hand, how many times can I keep doing this? I honestly don't know what caused it this time. I'm at a loss."

No kidding. "That is tough."

"Yeah." Howie looked down at his feet. "You know, I would make excuses when Mary does this. I got pretty good at it. But it seems the signs were there, and I was too stubborn to see it."

"Well," Chandler started. "My mother would agree with you. She was in denial for years when it came to my dad."

"What made her change her mind?"

"They had something too much in common." Mentally adding chasing the pool boy. Mom was not happy that he picked dad over her. "But this is about you and Mary. If you need to take some time to work it out, then let me know. I can cover your reports and such."

Howie was agape. "You would—you would do that?"

Chandler grinned out of the corner of his mouth. "Well, either me or Ryan."

"Then I would pick you."

The men shared a chuckle. Ryan was a nice guy, but he was prone to forgetfulness. Then out of the blue, Howie said, "She was right. I clearly don't know you as well as I thought I did."

His heart skipped a beat. "What is that?"

Howie thumbed behind him. "Your assistant. She's something all right. Chewed my ass good when—" Catching himself, he cleared his throat. "She mentioned I should talk to you and that you would help me out."

Chandler's mind instantly flashed to when Howie and Carla wanted Monica to do an impression of him and she vehemently refused. But then he realized what else Howie revealed. "S-She did? Wait, you didn't think I would?"

At least Howie had the decency to look sheepish, but Chandler was still pretty stunned to learn that he had believed he was unapproachable. If Howie… someone he worked next to felt this way, then how many others did too? "You don't think you can come to me about stuff like this? Does everyone else feel the same?" Again, Chandler hadn't expected he was winning any popularity contests, but he did believe his people could come to him if needed.

The other man rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nothing personal… It's well, you're Mr. Bing."

"That is my name," Chandler responded carefully. "Howie, you know me. We worked in the cubicles together. We were in the trenches."

"Yeah, but look at you now. You can't honestly expect to stay the same. I know I'm not."

"No one can truly be exactly the same," Chandler said. "Howie, just because I'm in this position doesn't negate who I am. I mean, I try to be a fair boss. Better than what we had to deal with."

"You are. I feel bad for some of the poor bastards in other departments and floors."

He wasn't going to bring it up. He hadn't for years, and it was a promise he had made to himself to separate himself from the others. But this was someone Chandler had helped to promote; someone he had considered a friend even if it was only in the workplace.

"Look, Howie. I know the department mocks me."

"What? Did Monica—?"

"No," he interrupted. The last thing he wanted was for her to receive any backlash—unfounded or not. "I've known for years. Why do you think I sometimes purposely wear ugly ties or speak with too much inflection? If the department can bond over that, then who am I to argue with the end results? I just didn't think you or Carla were part of it."

Chandler hadn't intended for Howie to appear chastened, but he did. "Look, I'm not the kind of person or boss that is going to punish you over that. Especially not when I'm guilty of it myself. That would be hypocritical. I'm more shocked that you think I can't be approached. I do care. I always have. I'm sorry that this is something you and anyone else feels."

Moving off his desk, Chandler looked him squarely in the eye. "I appreciate you bringing it to my attention. Now, you have a marriage to save. Let me deal with the corporate red tape and bullshit. Understood?"

Howie nodded wordlessly. Standing up, he went to walk out, but stopped. "Chandler."

This was the first time (now that he thought about it) that Howie used his first name. The other man stared at him. "I—thank you. It doesn't cover everything, but I see how wrong I had it. I guess I took you for granted as a boss. I can stop the making fun…"

"Don't do that. I do like a good joke, even if it's at my own expense. Just maybe not make it as part of the 'welcome to the team' requirement."

"Got it."

Well, that was certainly enlightening. While that wasn't how Chandler expected that conversation to go, he had no doubt that Howie would assure the department that he was someone to come to, to help resolve any conflicts. Yet, that was small potatoes to what he had disclosed.

Monica had sent Howie to talk to him. She knew that he would help him. But someone he had worked with for these past seven years… Hell, longer didn't know that about him.

She did.

Now, Chandler didn't want to get his hopes up. It might not mean anything. Probably since he was the boss, and he could do something to help the guy out. That was all. A pretty good, valid conclusion.

Then Monica materialized in his doorway. "Can I come in?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah. Of course." Chandler looked around, trying to think what he should do and decided to lean against his desk with his arms crossed to appear cool… casual. "Sup." Okay, maybe not that casual, he inwardly flinched.

She arched her brow but didn't comment on it. "Howie told me he was going to take a few days off."

"Y-yes." Chandler didn't know if she knew the circumstances, let alone anyone else. "It was needed."

"I'm glad. I told him he should talk to you. Thank you for proving me right. Guess I'll head back—"

"Monica," he beseeched. "You knew he and his wife were having difficulties." Her expression confirmed it, and his shoulders sagged. "Oh." He could beat himself up for not noticing sooner, but there would be no point. "It's good he told someone, and you directed him to me. Maybe now everyone will get the message I'm not such a terrible guy or something."

He meant it to be funny, but it sounded more self-deprecating; and to his astonishment, Monica put her hands on her hips. "Don't say that. You're not… a terrible guy."

Chandler looked down at his feet. "I have done things I do feel terrible about."

He heard her shaky exhale. Maybe this is the time. "Mon—"

"Don't," she interrupted him. "Not now. This isn't the time."

"When?" He looked at her.

"I don't know, but not now," she insisted, wrapping her arms around herself. "But I have been thinking."

He perked up at that. Not wanting to lose her train of thought, Chandler bit down on his tongue and tried not to eagerly bounce around.

"You have done a lot for me already and I don't want to appear or sound ungrateful. Far from it. At the same time, I'm still a little conflicted. I would be lying if I said I didn't have any lingering anger. And because of that I can't quite figure you out."

Never in his whole life had anyone ever said they couldn't figure him out. Usually, they can figure him out a little too quickly. It was evident Monica was giving this a lot of thought.

"It was so easy for us to fall back to the old days, and it was easy to forget the past just for a second. And when that happened, well…" He nodded understandingly and she continued, "Anyways, I needed to step back and not let myself get confused. Then at the meeting I watched how you talked to every person and how you paid attention to the small details. You know your employees. It's not just about knowing their first names, but you know their families and the milestones and everything. And despite knowing how Carla and Howie treat you behind your back, you still extended the same courtesy to them. So, I have the Chandler I knew from long ago, and the Chandler I'm seeing now, and I'm mad and not mad. Okay?"

He did… well, sort of.

"Everyone has been kind, and they talk, and I was able to glean a lot. Like how when you moved up, some of them expected you to be this laidback boss. When that didn't happen, they saw it as you turning into another corporate goon—"

Ouch.

"—and while no one would trade you for someone else to lead them, it just hit me that you're the same geeky guy that was my brother's roommate and this respected grown up. And those guys out there… they're your friends but you're not exactly a peer anymore. What I'm trying to say Chandler is that there are things for me to consider, but I'm not opposed to seeing if we could be friends. Let's see what happens and that will be that."

"I would like that," he exclaimed.

A smile flickered across her lips. "All right. I'll just get back to what I was doing."

Monica turned on her heel to walk away, and he couldn't hold it in any longer as his lips pulled back and his arms started undulating.

"Don't do the dance." Her voice impeded his movements as he saw her looking back at him. Amusement filled her blue eyes. "You're a dork."

His smile stretched wider as Monica finally left his office. He knew there would come a day when they would need to have a serious talk, but he was glad that she was willing to give their friendship a chance.

And he would be damned if he messed it up.

TBC…

Also, I saw The Fall Guy over the weekend. Such a good movie and totally recommend checking it out! It also gave me some Mondler vibes.