If Chandler was granted a theme song every time he entered a room, it would have been a series of hushed whispers, both in awe and in fear.

People bowed and mumbled greetings as he walked past. On a normal day, Chandler would try to be polite and send a greeting back, but today he was too tired to even maintain his social graces. Not that he ever had had the reputation of being a kind-hearted gentleman around here.

He preferred his current status anyway. Chandler Bing was a legend in the high-level security circles partly because of his proficiency since he joined the field, but mostly because everyone who had heard of him was fascinated by the mysterious mists that surrounded him. They worshipped the rigid and stoic agent in the crisp suit, also overwhelmed that this very man - according to the rumours - could be the runaway son of General Handbasket, that he the number of people he had killed might fill a small country with ease, or that he was a member of the Illuminati, also the hidden leader of a private force as powerful as the government, or, more realistically, he might have killed his own father.

Some of them were true, some of them were just outright absurd. But bad reputation was reputation, nevertheless. As long as it did no harm to his identity, Chandler willingly wore the mystery and the suit, it made his job way easier.

"Our regal Prince, welcome back."

Chandler nodded, leaning against the reception desk, conveniently writing his name on the list to requests to see the President. He handed car key to the person behind the desk, as they would process post-mission vehicle inspection. A smile touched his lips when he saw her looking at him, intently.

"Hello, my dear Janice."

"Ain't you gonna ask why I'm sitting here? A technician at reception desk?" Janice raised an eyebrow. "You know, it'd benefit you lots if you land on my good side, Bing-a-ling."

"Oh, trust me, I know that very well," Chandler smirked.

And heactuallyknew. JaniceLitman-Goralnik was an exceptional employee of the intelligence division, holding the key factor to any mission's success: information.

And, she was his ex-girlfriend.

Fine, fine, he knew what would going on people's mind when they find out. The story, however, it wasn't impressive or glorious like people might think it was.

When Chandler was fresh out of college and had not an ounce of accredit in his hand, he and Janice "dated" for a while. It was deemed "dating", but in fact, Janice needed someone to warm her bed, and he needed inside snitch. Win-win situation. Fair trade would be rather accurate. They clung to each other when necessary and Chandler would always leave when he had what he was after. As for Janice, she always welcomed him back with open arms. They both knew each other's ulterior motives, which was why the relationship lasted for so long. On again, off again, throw away again, get it back again. No problem, at all.

After the turning point that made rocketed Chandler to top agent and his identity immediately became a national secret, their relationship officially ended. To repay the phase of "taking advantage", Chandler pulled some strings to promote Janice from a federal intelligence officer to a NSA again. Debts were paid, they parted amicably, thus Chandler and Janice still had the heart to joke and at times flirt with each other when they met (it surprised Rachel wildly). Alas, Chandler was satisfied with his decision, he didn't regret dating her - even though her laugh was a little make-him-want-to-stab-himself-in-the-ear. He treasured Janice as a friend, she could put him in his place, would purr at him by his beloved real name, so he would remember who he was before he became the infamous Prince.

"Well," Janice's voice suddenly turned serious, mixed with worry. "How about you, then? I heard you got shot?"

"Not shot, but stabbed."

"Oh my God!"

As Janice gasped, Chandler grinned. "But it's okay, the knife is pretty sharp so it'll heal soon, hopefully it won't leave too big a scar."

"You, always so unserious! It's a good thing we're not together anymore. Otherwise I'd die fairly young because of you."

"Ouch! But you're welcome."

"So, what do we have here?" Janice hummed, inspecting his new car key, still in its nylon shrink. "McLaren? Aren't you a big fan of Cadillacs and bulletproof SUVs? You don't like the sporty ones."

"I'm not, but Rachel is."

A smirk instantly appeared on her face. "Eureka! Congratulations on the engagement, by the way!"

Chandler groaned, glaring at his ex. "Oh, no, not you too. It should get old now!"

"I don't think you'll ever live it down, Chandler Bing. I was shocked, you know! The top agent, anti-commitment at heart, dated to be engaged with the first daughter of President Green. I was wondering, since when your type is the classic dirty blonde, blue eyes girl? Bet you were not her type either."

Chandler sighed. This was exactly why he hated coming to the Palace. He'd be happier if you dropped him off in any godforsaken place, just not where people rehashing the same old story to tease him, please. If one more person said anything, he'd strangle them, for God's sake!

"Agent Prince, the President is ready to see you, sir," an agent cut the conversation.

Saved by the bell. "Ah. Well."

"See you later, Bing-a-ling." Janice fired her usual machine-gun laughter. And, she whispered lightly. "And those-things-you-asked-for, I'll send them to you the day after tomorrow."

Chandler returned her smile. "Excellent. See you later, Janice."

The man walked three steps ahead, signaled for Chandler to follow. "This way, Agent."

"Yes. Of course."

Why do people serve an ideal? What does they gain from those? Faith, money, fame? The satisfaction when they fool themselves that the moral compass flicking in their hearts is pointing to the right direction?

Why, exactly?

Chandler thought about it every time he walked down the endless hallways leading to the President's executive strategy office. The Palace had a stateroom to greet normal political guests, and another top-secure, secret room just for internal national discussions. The Black Room, as they called it, had been built by a completely different team of architects, with a different blueprint, never be available to the public or to unaffiliated officials. Being the President of Free World or a Secret Service high-level agent were two main ways you could get access to it.

You would have to go deep into the hidden hallway behind the archive room to get there. Few dozen steps from the light to darkness could change the fate of a nation, forever. Chandler wished that were just some exaggerated sayings, but it were not. If a tornado could be created from a butterfly flapping its wings due to the Butterfly Effect, the Black Room contained dragon wings, such wings envelop around America, and could destroy the whole world. He's not even joking (and he's always joking).

So what motivated those who had sat in that room, shackled to and flapping those dragon wings?

Like his father, who had spent his entire life in that room. Chandler believed Charles knew the pattern of the wooden floor in the room better than he knew his only son. What did he want, what did he need, what did he believe?

And he, Chandler Bing, swore to be as far from a man from who father had been, now also came here every month, obediently receiving orders, obediently carrying them out. How different was he from his father?

What did he want, what did he need, what did he believe?

As Chandler stepped inside, Leonard Green looked at him tenderly as if he were the son he never had - that was what others would say about their relationship.

Chandler knew better.

To the President, the Bings - now and then - was simply the best weapon he had at the moment, and Leonard cared for him the way one might care for a nice gun or a rare antique.

Chandler would never forget the cold, dark stare in President Green's eyes as he was pushed into this same room when he was little, blood still dripping on his cheek. The child just had a quick bite of mac & cheese from the sympathetic agent who had rescued him. Charles looked out of the small window, not even sparing a gaze at his son, and Leonard took one look, only to ask,

"Did you say anything to the enemy?"

Then Chandler was kicked out of the room after the President got the desired answer.

Chandler didn't hate Leonard Green, to be fair. The man just did what he had to do, as a leader of the nation. But at the same time, he didn't have any special affection or respect for him. He merely could not see eye to eye with people who killed for fun, tortured for fun, be brutal for fun.

Chandler clasped his hands behind him, bowed his head just slightly. "Agent 01754, President Green."

"Agent, sit, please. I need a full debriefing on the armory factory mission. Heard it almost went wrong." Leonard replied, not bothering to look up.

"Yes, Mr. President. The mission was a success. We were able to neutralize the threat and prevent any disruption to the manufacturing process. Fifteen bulk loads of bullets and firearms had been transferred to our plants before any news could reach the public." Chandler's voice was flat, emotionless. "Our team intercepted the enemy group as they were preparing to launch their attack. We engaged in a brief firefight, but we neutralized them before they could cause any major harm."

The President looked up, an eyebrow raised. "And?"

"There were no casualties on our side, however, we did sustain some minor injuries. Every injured agent was sent to medical immediately and will heal in two, three weeks max. The enemy group had significant losses, three deaths."

He left out the part of two men made it out alive.

"Sounds promising. What about the relationship between this attack and the riot movement, how far have you guys looking into it? Did they have any inside help?"

"We're still investigating that possibility, Sir. There are no indications that they may have had assistance from individuals within the government, but we're working on it."

"Good." The old man commented. "Have the Intelligence branch investigate this. Keep up the good work, casualties don't matter, as long as you chop the head off their leader, Agent Bing. They're such a pain in the ass. You know what to do."

Chandler gritted his teeth. He gave a reluctant, mechanical nod, his poker face expressionless, reflecting the turmoil swirling in his heart.

Chandler Muriel Bing, what do you want, what do you need, what do you believe, a voice hummed.

He replied,Just a little longer, I'll just have to put up with this a little longer, one more day, and one more other day.

The military school didn't teach him that the determination to wait would determine the success or failure of any grand plan. He had learned that from the homeless days spent huddled in the rain in the middle of a remote jungle, from the patience of Joseph Sr. and Gloria, from the long summer afternoons hunting birds with Joey, from the moment he had seen the text message confirming his participation in the Advanced Special Agent Training Program. That was why he was different from the others.

Surrendered himself to one more day, for his grand plan.

He cleared his throat, his thoughts racing through. "Yes, sir. I've been working with the Intelligence Bureau, and we believe we're getting closer to pinpointing the head of the organization, suspected to be responsible for many of the recent policy failures, IHG. We've confirmed some links to this group. When the time is right, we'll deploy to destroy, Mr. President."

"Oh, of course, I have no doubt. You're Handbasket's only son, your amazing father must have left you something, right? You ought to surpass your parents."

The corner of Chandler's mouth twitched.

Leonard Green propped his chin on his left hand, his eyes searching the young man before him. The innocent features of his childhood, when he was still a baby, when he was still Muriel, had completely disappeared, that was for sure. But those eyes, those eyes that Leonard could never read, had not changed at all.

Chandler Bing had the best of his parents' looks. When things were still at peace, Leonard was acquainted with both Charles and Nora. In retrospect, despite the traces of genetics he couldn't get rid of (he would if he could), Chandler's personality was nothing like Leonard's old friends.

Whether Chandler was hiding under the disguise or had changed completely, God only knew.

Leonard clicked his tongue. "It's a shame you and my girl Rachel didn't work out, Mr. Chandler." For the first time in the conversation, he called the real name. "We'd benefited much if you were in the family."

The corners of Chandler's lips twitched even more drastically, barely managed to keep the look of disgust from his face.

Oooookay, this is the only person Chandler couldn't strangle even ifthatrelationship is mentioned. Fucking hell.

Chandler forced out a tight smile. "Yes, sir. Rachel is a good girl, she will soon meet a suitable lover, worthy of your family. By all means, please do not worry too much."

Actually, Chandler already felt sorry for the unfortunate man whose father-in-law was the President of the United States. Rachel won't be the worst of their worry, for sure.

Leonard nodded, waved his hand, signaling the end of the conversation. "I trust your judgment on both matters, Chandler Bing. Continue to monitor the situation and be prepared to respond to any new developments. That's all for now."

Chandler nodded curtly, and walked out, not looking back.

He knew, that one day, he would walk down this hallway for the last time.

That day couldn't rush to him soon enough.

"I hate youSO MUCH." Chandler raised his voice the moment the door closed behind him.

Rachel looked up from her computer, giving her best friend a puzzled look. Then, as she glanced at his crisp suit, the file tucked under his arm, she understood right away. This poor man just met her dad.

Rachel bursted out laughing. "Oh, isn't it so sad to be Chandler? And no, babe, no, you don't. Did you really think you'd make the"rumours"—" she made an air quote sarcastically. "—die down by barging into my private office on a Monday? Really? A single man and A single woman staying in one room behind closed door, once said to be engaged?"

"No matter what I do, people willneverstop talking about it." Chandler tossed the paperwork onto the table, knowing Rachel would fill it out for him, then threw himself onto the king-size bed, not a care at all about the wrinkles started forming under his shirt. "Even my ex-girlfriend teased me!"

"I've already apologized to you so many times!" Rachel moaned. She rose from her seat, took a cold bottle of Yoo-Hoo from the mini-fridge, and waved it in Chandler's face.

He grabbed it, opened with a flick of wrist. "You were sooooo... How could you even think of that, I still don't understand. It was like... mythology logic. Nonsense, total nonsense."

"I was young and dumb back then."

"You're still young and dumb now."

"Hey!"

"Do you know how many people speculated that I got my position at the Palace because I was sleeping with you?" Chandler grumbled. "It happened around this time, right, like, four years ago? When was your dad re-elected?"

Rachel remembered her own daring stunt that had changed their relationship forever.

"Umm, I think it was this month, even. This month, four years ago. Oh, wow, we've only been friends for four years?"

Four years ago, September descended upon Washington D.C., a city simmering with secrets and scandal. The sweltering summer heat had finally broken, but a different kind of storm was brewing beneath the facade of power and privilege. Leonard Green had won the re-election, the Green family would continue staying at the Palace, which should have been good news, but for Rachel, this was unbearable bad news.

The country was on the brink of war, military and politicians were rushing to find ways to communicate and diplomatize with other countries, forming global alliances to support the prosperity of their country. That was what Leonard Green was best at, and it was also what brought him to the podium of victory. People needed a strong hand to guide them to victory, they voted for Leonard. The Green family had been in politics for a long time, Rachel's grandfather was also the President, so it was understandable that when Leonard taken ahold of the office, many friends coming to be alliances, and when he became the monarch of the country, many talented people worked for him.

But that was still not enough. Besides using agreements and resolutions as a bridge, Leonard also intended to further strengthen the friendship between alliances by marriage. He had three daughters, and none of them had the same political ambitions as he did, so he decided to marry his daughters to men who could support his career - unless the girls had their own lovers. With the intimidation coming with being a politician's daughter, none of them had.

Amy and Jiil - had been accustomed to a life of luxury since childhood - quickly agreed to their father's proposal. Leonard quickly made offers to heads of state, and it didn't take long for him to find some promising guys, intended to hold the engagement until the children were mature.

Rachel, however, was different. Although she had no desire to become a president or anything related to one in the future, Rachel still inherited her father's independent temperament and disliked being forced to do anything to the extreme. When she was 15, she put off her father's offer, at least until she was 18. When she was 18, she convinced parents that the presidential election was more important than her marriage, therefore Rachel escapedagain.

At 19, Rachel couldn't be stubborn any longer. Life at university didn't go well, Rachel knew half of her classmates thought she was a mean girl, other half approached her just because she was the President's daughter, it wasn't an ideal environment to find a partner. Her family was rather boring, she grew increasingly distant from her younger sisters, her father was immersed in power and her mother was always with boytoys. Rachel was often alone in the large Palace. The bodyguards assigned by her father also tried to flirt with her. She had thought it over, maybe she should just accept any man with a dick, that should be fine!

Then, Chandler Bing appeared. Her knight in ruffled, burnt brunette hair and tiresome eyes.

He was the youngest, most childish face among the chosen bodyguards. After the shocking death of Charles Handbasket, Leonard had gradually eliminated those associated with Charles in the NSA for being untrustworthy. Therefore, they faced a fair shortage of protection. This was the newest, most excellent batch to perform the important duty for the President's family.

Chandler deliberately stepped back as Jill and Amy fawned over the taller, more handsome, more experienced bodyguards. His eyes didn't even bother hiding clear disgust, just wanting to be quickly dismissed and return to HQ to join the field agent program. He had not run away from his parents to come back here, to find a girl to marry and rely on the Green family's influence, as some of his colleagues had desired. He remembered Joey laughing heartily when he heard that he had been selected to be the Palace Guard.

"Just think of it as a homecoming prom, I'm sure it won't cause you any harm." Joey commented innocently.

The Green ladies weren't bad looking, but they probably weren't very intelligent, he wished they'd just pick those muscle-brained guys.

Then he felt hands grabbed his, nails clawing into his flesh.

A pair of blue eyes glared at him.

What the fuck.

"Dad, I pick this one."

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?!

"Follow me, Chandler Bing. I know you. I knowMuriel." She whimpered heatedly.

... Holy shit.

And that was how Chandler became Rachel's bodyguard.

He was on one way to hell.

Okay, it wasn'tthatbad. Rachel Green turned out not to be a total insufferable brainless blonde, and other than seeing him kidnapped (which Rachel told on their first day together, cringing under his fierce eyes), Rachel didn't know much else about him.

"I picked you because I thought you'd have worse time with my sisters," she explained. Rachel also confirmed the rumors were partly true, Amy did have some kind of friends-with-benefits with her old bodyguards, which was why Leonard Green kept a close eye on his security team. If Chandler was who Rachel thought he was, he'd enjoy working with her, and she'd rather not have to change bodyguards every six months because scandalous acts.

Chandler raised his eyebrows. "What do you think I am?"

Rachel stammered, confused. "I... I just thought you were a different person than your father."

Chandler was a little touched. Come to think of it, this girl was only nineteen. He shouldn't be so hard on her.

Rachel tried her best to prove that she wouldn't get in the way of the new bodyguard's training. Outside of school and parties with famous designers, Rachel promised not to stay out late, so Chandler could return to HQ to practice on night shifts. When Chandler returned to NAS headquarters, she shared her phone and contacts with him (though Chandler never really checked).

Slowly, over fine-dining meals where Chandler fumbled awkwardly with each fork, or over cheap pizza with Rachel wrinkled her nose at the triple layer of greasy cheese, they began to talk. They were already forced to be attached by the hips, a little talk couldn't hurt.

Rachel told him about the day she saw Muriel Handbasket being shot, and how the sound of the gunshot had made her afraid of corks popping, balloons bursting, or 4th of July fireworks. She said every trip to the beach after that day made Rachel think of Muriel, looking out at the endless blue water, because of the eyes, because she had heard that Muriel had followed his mother across the ocean to a faraway land.

Chandler talked about his brief stay in London with Nora Bing, that aforementioned faraway land. He had changed his last name to his mother's and a name his father had discarded before he was born. Chandler Bing, which was not bad, it's unique enough not to sound too fake and funny enough that people would not take him very seriously. Then he escaped to America on an ocean liner, having realized living with his mother was no better than his father.

Rachel teared up under the flickering lights. "You're a good person who has had bad luck."

Chandler shook his head, determined. "I'm not a good person, neither a hero, don't be naive. I'm only doing this cuz I'm good at it, and because it makes me rich, that's all. I'm not fighting for peace or for stability or for love. Ironically, it makes me not very different from them in the end, isn't it? And all I ever want is to be different from them, those lonely fuckers."

Rachel was still clutching at his shirt, tears rolling on her bony cheeks. He sighed, somehow felt she didn't buy one ounce of the lie he sold.

"I'll make you different from them. I'll be your friend."

"Don't get too attached to me, I'm commitment-phobe." Chandler half-joked.

But one of his hands was already patting Rachel's back gently, urging her tears to dry down soon.

If he had known that day was coming, Chandler Bing would never have said or agree to that damned friend thing. Because, Rachel Karen Green thought he's trustworthy enough to say he was herboyfriend! To the President and the President's First Lady! To the people who were paying his salary!

"What thef-"

"Wait wait wait waitwaitdon't be mad yet!" Rachel pleaded, tugging at the hem of Chandler-was-extremely-furious' shirt. "We're not really dating! Just roll with me for about four weeks, come over for dinner with my family, and I'll break up with you. Come on, Chandler Bing!"

"No, no way." Chandler stood up, too abrupt that his half-drank coffee spill onto the table. His voice rose in disbelief. "Do you know what the consequences would be? Your father would have me killed and throw me in the river!"

"My mom was pressing me about marriage, and I panicked! I just panicked, I swear, I didn't think, I didn't want to be married off like Jill and Amy, so I said I already had a lover. And mom asked who, your namejustcame up!"

"Why the hell it came up?!"

"Because you're my only friend, you moron!"

A silence fell between them, draped on them and took space of each molecule in the room. Drops of coffee dripped down the edge of the table to the ground. The clock continued to tick, and the two people inside couldn't bring themselves to say yet another word.

Rachel looked like she was about to cry, and Chandler knew it would be hella annoying if she did. He ran his fingers through his soft, light brown hair, avoiding the pleading eyes Rachel was enthusiastically throwing at him, his thoughts bundling up in a jumble. The past few months had been so smooth, Rachel so obedient, the boundaries so blurred that he forgot that Rachel wasn't a normal 20-year-old, but the President's beloved heir. Her life was predetermined by her parents.

Just as his had been.

Rachel broke the stifling silence, her voice filled with sadness and despair. "Please, Chandler, you have to help me. Just pretend to be my boyfriend for a little while, three weeks or four. Just until things calm down. After that I can announce we've broken up and it's all my fault, and due to the awkwardness, my Dad will likely to transfer you back to the tactical department. This is a win-win game, you see?"

Chandler sighed, rubbing his temples. "This is insane, Rachel. You know that, right? Nothing guaranteed that we will get out of this in one piece."

"I know it's a lot to ask for, but you're the only one I trust. And I'd make sure you will keep your job safe and sound. My father, no matter how much a dictator he is, I'm still his first child. He won't deny what I demand, especially since I've demanded nothing for so, so long."

Chandler looked at her, sensing the genuine fear and desperation in her eyes. The pulse of aura around her was racing, unable to stabilize. Despite his annoyance, he couldn't bring himself to refuse her. Rachel was the most precious child of the Green family for that reason. With her father's decisiveness and quick wit, and her mother's gentleness and charm, it was hard for anyone to refuse her wishes. Rachel Green just had to wave her hand and a normal moment would turn into one hell of a ride. She knew that.

"Fine. I still don't know what the hell have I gotten myself into, but fine." he said, his voice heavy with resignation. "I'll do it. But you owe me big time."

"Oh, oh, thank you!" Rachel jumped up, hugging Chandler's neck. She patted his back. "I'll do whatever you want!"

Chandler shook his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Oh, my sweet summer child, that's a very dangerous thing to promise, you know."

Chandler decides to only show up at The Palace during work hours, and retreats home immediately after work, as the story of Chandler and Rachel's shocking bonding has spread throughout the high-ranking government and military circles like wildfire. Even Gloria and Joey Sr. called him. His adoptive father told him not to get involved with the government if he wanted to live the life he desired, and his mother wanted to meet her daughter-in-law, to which Chandler reluctantly revealed that it's all just an act, there was no daughter-in-law.

Oh, the things Chandler would do for money and fame.

After a long conversation in the Presidential Suite, the Greens invited Chandler to a family dinner, along with their two other sons-in-law. Rachel dragged Chandler to the tailor shop the Greens have paid for since their great-grandfather to get a new suit.

The evening was filled with polite conversation and poorly veiled scrutiny. Chandler, dressed in a suit that felt foreign to him, played his part with stoic grace. Rachel, ever the actress, clung to his arm and laughed at his dry humor, her eyes sparkling with mischief. He could feel the other boys - both younger and less experienced than him - showing obvious dislike for him, while Amy and Jill were openly flirting with him. Perhaps because they were only marrying for family, they had no strings attached, and thought they could force themselves on Chandler.

Chandler was disgusted by the whole game-of-thrones scheme. Rachel felt the very same way.

Later that night, Rachel and Chandler shared a room in the Green mansion. Mrs. Green arranged, because Jill and Amy had both slept with their fiancés. Leonard seemed to enjoy Chandler's clever stories so far, this agent was definitely better than his two sons-in-law who were all appearances, but when Mrs. Green suggested that, he immediately stiffened. A chill ran down Chandler's spine. If looks could kill, Leonard Green would have skinned Chandler alive!

Chandler insisted on sleeping on the floor, and of course, Rachel took the bed. Chandler was exhausted from an evening of pretending, but Rachel didn't seem to want to sleep yet, rolling back and forth on the bed, the sound of the sheets rustling mixed with sighs.

"What's wrong?" Chandler couldn't stand it anymore. She kept moving, so Chandler couldn't sleep either.

"Nothing, I just thought... Mom has never looked at me with such pride. I'm a little offended. Someone like her, with countless lovers she can count on her fingersandtoes, is so proud that her daughter has a boyfriend. And my dad clearly doesn't care, as long as you are useful him. I feel... infinitely lonely."

"How your family behave isn't your fault, Rach."

"But I feel like I can... do something. As their child."

Chandler snorted. Memories bubbled up in his head, tangling around his heart, creeping under the covers, wrapping around his fingers. Same fingers stained with blood.

"There's no way, it's not your responsibility. Unless you're crazy enough to kill the source of your problem. For me, that's my Dad."

Well, then.

It was no surprise to either of them. It was just confirmation of something they both knew.

Chandler Bing had killed General Charles Handbasket with his bare hands. That made him the youngest senior agent in history, and put a stop to the rumors that he was a spy planted by Charles.

He killed Charles because it was necessary. Because it was his duty.

If he had to do it again, Chandler would, in a heartbeat.

Chandler Bing was not a good person, he told himself. No good person would kill their parents, even though they were total douchebags

Rachel moved closer to the edge of the bed, looking down at the still figure of her friend. The moon hung brightly outside the window, casting a light over his body, but his handsome face remained in shadow.

She didn't know what he was thinking, but didn't expect to understand, didn't expect to be able to pull him completely into the moonlight and make him honest. Rachel could dismiss this as just a useless piece of information he'd thrown out, but she sensed it was more important. She had to consider her next words carefully, they would change their relationship forever.

Rachel whispered, a tone from inaudible. "I don't have the strength to kill my father."

Chandler said nothing.

"At least notphysically."

Rachel finished, and immediately, she tucked herself under the covers.

It was a dangerous thing to admit. But Chandler wasn't a tattletale.

He smiled, and slowly, too, fell asleep, those last words ringing in both their dreams.

Disaster struck the next morning. Rachel's mother barged into the room unexpectedly, her spying effort futile since Chandler installed cover patches around the peephole yesterday. Luckily, they've locked the door, and Chandler's instinct woke him up at the slightest sound of Mrs. Green's steps on the creaking stairs. In a panic, an extremely sleepy Rachel and an alerted Chandler threw all the pillows and mattresses onto the bed, and Chandler slinged himself beside Rachel just in time Mrs. Green got the door open with the maid's keys.

Quickly on her feet, Rachel pulled Chandler into her embrace with his face buried in her neck, pretending they were both soundly asleep and cuddling before being interrupted. Chandler's disgust was palpable, but he played his part convincingly by groaning lowly and shuffling under the blanket while Rachel acted out the most disgustingly sweetest voice she could.

They untangled their limbs the moment the door shut, Chandler fake hurling vomit while Rachel laughed uncontrollably.

Weeks passed, and the charade continued as dealt. Rachel and Chandler attended a few more family gatherings, their fake relationship be the talk of the uptown. As the interaction progressed, they shared more and more personal stories, from Rachel's upcoming honour graduation from University, to her family; from Chandler's real story - the Tribbianis to his childhood dreams. Rachel learns about the orphanage and Chandler receives the Palace's secret construction structure blueprint. It was admittedly a smooth deal, both get more than they bargained for.

Eventually, Rachel announced their breakup, citing irreconcilable differences. But by then, Rachel had gotten used to following Chandler around, doing odd jobs from reporting missions, managing the orphanage's finances, to buying snacks for the kids on the weekends. That closeness made the Greens believe that Rachel was too dependent on Chandler, couldn't move on from him, so no one forced her to get married anymore, and at the same time, did not fire Chandler as he feared. They'd worked as misfit pair since.

Talking about killing two birds with one stone, wow!

It had been like that for almost half a decade. Chandler still grumbled about Rachel's prank, but he was still in her life, in no hurry to leave. Rachel was pleased with that.

Today was no different. They sat side by side on the balcony of Rachel's private room, the room they'd slept in together when they did the scheme, watching sunset slowly casted its shadow over the city. Chandler took a sip of the YooHoo Rachel offered as an apology, while Rachel stirred the sugar at the bottom of her orange juice.

Rachel turned around, nudging him lightly. "You know, for a fake relationship, we made a pretty good team. I'm afraid it's settled that we will do more good than harm if we stuck together, Mr. Handbasket, so man up and bear the tease."

Chandler smiled, his eyes reflecting the fading light. "Please don't call me by that horrible,horriblename. All you've done was blew away my hopes for my last love."

"Not at all! It didn't even affect you that much, and no one is born incapable of love. If you're so desperate, I'll find you some love poison. How about mac & cheese laced with love poison? Last time we ate at Javu, I think you were pretty head over heels with that plate of food."

He scoffed. "No amount of love poison could make me fall in love."

"I don't think so. I think secretly, you love more intensively than anyone I know. I took one look and I was sure of it. No heartless man can do what you do." Rachel said, firmly.

Chandler rolled his eyes. Rachel was still too young, he thought, to still believe in love and happy endings. That's why he deliberately not telling her about Monica.

He drank the last drops of chocolate milk, sinking into a comfortable silence.

The empty YooHoo was held up to the sun as if to imprison the brightest source of light in this galaxy, the light Chandler wanted to soak in forever, the light that far away from evil hidden rooms and even more evil people. Would he ever find someone under this light to love? Would he ever able to scrub the darkness clean, enough for whoever belongs in this light to love him?

The last rays of the day danced on the glass, making it sparkle, like a layer of glittering love potion sink at the bottom of the bottle Chandler was holding.