As soon as Monica had remembered the precious key that she had stashed away in her purse a few days before, she had leaned back against that hard, frigid wall at the end of Michelle's street, her face tilted skywards, eyelashes grazing her cheeks, and she had allowed a long cleansing exhale and a blessed wave of relief to quell her panic.
Both Joey and Chandler had accepted invitations to Phoebe's friend's party, so Monica had known before she arrived that she would find their apartment dark and deserted, which simultaneously suited and disappointed her. She had taken immediate sanctuary in Chandler's bed, grabbing the soft, crumpled t-shirt he had slept in that lay folded on his pillow, burying her face in it, and taking deep gasping breaths, extracting every last molecule of him that she could from those fibers of cotton, until she had felt herself become calmer still.
And now he was home.
She was finally entwined in his arms, tearful but unburdened, sinking deeper and deeper into his kiss, and she knew that as long as they could stay like this her anxiety would continue to ebb.
Of course, she had always known that Chandler would never dream of turning her away, but their recent agreement to maintain sensible boundaries had caused her a niggle of concern that his welcome would not be as physical as she wanted it to be.
But thankfully, it seemed that Chandler's commitment to keeping his distance had dwindled just as much as hers had, and his greeting was every bit as passionate as she needed.
His palms slid slowly up the backs of her arms as they kissed, drawing her as close as he could, his soft groan telling her of his relief to have her back, and reassuring her that he had missed their closeness and intimacy just as much as she had.
The warmth of his embrace cast her adrift from the arduous weight of her miserable day with the Burkes, her mind floating away and becoming pleasantly lost in an uncomplicated alternative reality, where it was just her and him, and these big, beautiful feelings.
But she noticed Chandler's fingers become slightly tense against her shoulder, and his lips were suddenly less supple too. It was the very faintest of hesitations, but one that Monica simply could not ignore: Her emotions were still bubbling far too close to the surface, and this smallest inkling of discomfort was enough to send her into a fit of panic. Her whole body seized.
"What? What is it? What's wrong?" she gasped, her eyes were wild and searching, as she pulled back from him and examined his face.
"Nothing!" he assured her gently, but he definitely looked slightly troubled.
She studied him closely, barely breathing, as he glanced at something over her shoulder.
"It's just... the dog..." , he whispered, mouthing the words awkwardly, as if Tilly might be somehow affronted by them, "She's staring right at me!"
Monica looked momentarily bewildered as she looked towards the spaniel, who was curled up on the lounger, chin on paws, watching them with only the very mildest of interest. When she turned back to face Chandler, her mouth gaped with incredulity.
"Oh my God, Chandler! She's a dog! She's not judging you!" She lightly swiped at his arm with an admonishing palm. "Don't freak me out like that! I thought you were going to tell me you wanted me to go home, or something!"
"No! Of course I don't want you to go! How could you think that?"
His tone was comforting and his smile gentle as he pressed another soft kiss against her lips, and smoothed her hair with calming fingers.
Monica sighed and gave a withering shake of her head, then began to relax back into his kiss, but when she saw Chandler's focus flicker back towards Tilly's continuing oblivious observation, she drew back again with another exasperated tut.
"Chandler!"
"She's really staring!" Chandler insisted defensively, directing Monica's attention with a nod, "You don't find that off-putting?"
"So, what? You can do me in the cleaning closet in Central Perk, with twenty people drinking coffee just a few feet away, but this is too much for you?" Monica demanded impatiently.
"Fair point" he conceded in a mutter, but he continued to meet Tilly's nonplussed eyes with a hint of unease, "It just makes me feel a little weird that's all. Can we please go into my bedroom?"
"Oh my God! I don't care where we go, Chandler! I just... need you!"
Frustrated, and still horribly overwrought, Monica's blue eyes suddenly looked just about ready to spill their emotion again and Chandler's forehead crumpled as he observed her persisting distress.
He framed her face with the tenderest fingertips she had ever felt.
"Hey! I'm sorry." he murmured gently, peppering her with achingly slow kisses as he steered her into the bedroom, easing the door closed behind them "Please don't cry, Mon."
"I don't even know why I'm crying", she admitted in a whimper, immediately placated by his full attention and sliding warm, delicate fingers into the softness of his hair.
"I think... it's because your stupid boyfriend can't kiss you in front of a dog," Chandler proposed in a whisper that was accompanied by the sweetest smile.
She managed a half-laugh-half-sob, knowing full well that it was rather more likely to be many days worth of tension finally working itself free, and knowing that Chandler knew that too.
"But you love him anyway, right?" he checked, between kisses.
"Yeah", she confirmed with a sniff and a nod, pressing her forehead to his, and kissing the tip of his nose. "So much".
He brushed her cheeks with the backs of his fingers as he told her. "Good. 'Cause I love you too. More than anything. And I really missed you..."
Her hips tilted to meet his, and his arms drew her lush curves close, fitting her to his body.
"And I missed this..." he murmured against her lips.
She hummed as she exhaled, liquefying against the firmness of his chest, softening right into him, but it still felt like she would never quite be able to get close enough.
Her lips were gentle but becoming ever more insistent, beginning to tease his apart, and she sighed as they sank down together into the softness of his bed, enjoying the warm caress of his tongue, tasting the sweet mint of his gum laced with hops and the salt of her own recently dried tears.
They lay on their sides, bodies knitted tight, and she kissed him and kissed him, like it was the first and last time; a "main event" sort of kiss; a kiss that freed every desperate pang of yearning that had wrenched at Monica's insides these past few days; the kind of kiss that feels like more than just a cursory prelude.
But a prelude it most definitely was.
Hands that gently loved and caressed at first, soon became frenzied, as each of them sought to peel away the frustration of clothing that parted their skin, and just as soon as every garment was strewn across the floor Chandler gave a blissful groan, his fingertips finally able to roam her satiny nakedness, and his lips immediately keen to follow.
He broke away from that wildfire of a kiss and dragged his hot breath to her neck, creating glorious tingles of sensation that drew a desperate, conflicted growl from Monica's throat: Her lips missed the attention of his mouth so badly, but the rest of her craved it too. She wanted to feel him everywhere, all at once, and she felt so violently disordered by it all, that she could only cling on tight, grabbing at his hair, sinking her teeth gently into his fleshy shoulder muscles, allowing herself to be completely overpowered by Chandler's own similarly impossible need to devour every inch of her in one fell swoop.
His tongue and lips were relentless now; lashing; plunging; pillaging; urged on by her frantic moans, and he might never have stopped, but for her breathless plea.
"Please Chandler, I want you!"
She clambered up onto her knees, the mattress dipping beneath her, so that she could keep her hands and febrile eyes on him as he lunged for the bedside table. The focus and vigor he applied when he ripped at that little foil packet with his bared teeth never failed to thrill.
When he returned himself to her she had expected that they would wrap their arms around each other's waists, and then dissolve once more into a pool of limbs, but Chandler took her by surprise, coming to kneel behind her instead, his body spooning her own.
She gave a small yelp as he pushed his knees between hers, parting her thighs, and his soft lips immediately honed in on the spot at the top of her spine that always made her tingle and thrash, because there was nothing in the world he loved more than to see that.
He stilled her convulsions by taking her by the hips, easing her slowly back, right into his lap. They gasped and groaned into that incomparable sensation of heat and fusion, and they were still for a moment, knees bent, bodies as one, until his fingers gripped a little harder at her hip bone, guiding her movements and directing her into a rhythm.
Burning pressure began to build as he watched the undulations of her body against his, and he glided his palms over every inch of ivory skin, gently cupping and squeezing at her breasts, and slipping deft fingers between her thighs.
"Fuck, Monica, you're too much", he told her between desperate labored breaths, "You're just... perfect".
He surprised her again, suddenly pulling her back by her shoulders, so that her spine was against his chest, drawing them both up tall.
"Look how perfect you are."
The gruff, humid whisper that reverberated in her ear drew her eyes towards the smudged mirror on his bedroom wall, where her gaze locked with his, sending a devastation of shockwaves over her skin.
The feel of him. The sight of them together. The way they matched each other's thrusts. She whimpered, the swell of sensation becoming almost too much to bear.
His teeth continued to coast across that gloriously sensitive skin at the nape of her neck and Monica grew ever more vociferous; a stream of murmured divine utterances interspersed with desperate expletives spilling from her lips.
As he continued to watch their reflected passion, and his core blazed and throbbed, Chandler thought the end was near, but then she shocked him by pulling herself free of his grasp.
She spun around to face him, straddling his thighs, sinking onto his lap and engulfing him anew.
"I need you closer. I want to see you."
The mirror was no longer enough for Monica.
She kissed him hard and deep, grabbing fistfuls of his hair as she circled, then thrust her hips. Panting heavily, she pulled back so she could look into his face, watching with intense satisfaction as a pained kind of bliss brought fever to his eyes. She pulsed and ached as she watched that face; the way he bit down hard on his lip, and the growing desperation in the bruising fingers that clutched her waist, stoking the raging fire that was all ready to consume her.
His need was palpably urgent now, and she arched her back, offering her breasts to his mouth, as she picked up her pace, stroking his cheeks with increasingly incapable fingers, then finally looping her arms around his neck, cradling his head, and clasping him firmly against the slick skin of her chest.
As soon as she felt his shoulders bunch taut, and a long, loud roar began to erupt muffled against her burnished flesh, she felt herself combust too, and she cried out, fragmenting into a blaze of ecstatic fire dust.
She was healed. Renewed. Incapable of panic, or worry, or sadness; Of remembering why she had ever felt any of those things; or what they even meant.
Chandler fell back, spent against his pillows, breathing out curse after euphoric curse, and she buckled and crashed on top of him, her limbs becoming limp as she caught her breath against his heaving chest.
"Hey... Merry Christmas, you!" she grinned breathlessly, suddenly realizing that they were yet to so much as acknowledge the day.
"Merry Christmas, Mon..." he chuckled, garnering enough energy to brush her lips with a gentle kiss and then giving a satisfied sigh, "It certainly ended a lot better than it started."
His nose and mouth were pressed against her forehead as they lay there depleted and quiet, peaceful smiles relaxing both of their faces as his fingers raked slow, repetitive trails through the silk of her hair.
The wonderfully heavy drag of sleep was pulling at Chandler's whole body, causing his eyelids to droop and his lips to part. He and Monica had not spent an entire night together since the evening of Joey's play, and he could not quite believe it was finally going to happen again. He squeezed her just a little tighter, as if to confirm that she really was there.
"What time is it?" she asked, suddenly sounding a little pained, "I need to go find some dog food. Do you think anywhere will be open?"
His eyes became instantly alert and she felt the muscles in his arms contract.
"I'll go find some", he told her decisively "You stay here".
"You don't know what she eats -"
"I do!" Chandler interrupted her protestation and sat up with a start, rolling her briskly from his chest onto the pillows, ignoring the look of surprise on her face, "I looked after her when you were in the hospital, remember? I know exactly what she has!"
There was no way he was letting her leave. He knew what would happen if she did, he was absolutely convinced of it.
The hunt for a specific brand of dog food on Christmas night would undoubtedly prove tricky, and it seemed inevitable that the mission would end with Monica returning to her own apartment to collect some, at which point she would run into Richard, and everything would crumble.
Richard would apologize for whatever jerk behavior he'd upset her with today; her excruciating guilt would trick her into forgiving him, and simultaneously kick start her desire to protect him from hurt; and that would be that.
They would be back to square one: Interminably waiting for Monica to find the right moment to banish him from their lives for good.
Tonight was progress, and Chandler was not going to let that slide. He would feed the damn dog or he would die trying. He would visit every grocery store in the city if he had to, he would beg, borrow, steal, and if all else failed he would find a restaurant and take Tilly out for a steak dinner.
Monica's fingers curled around his and she spoke softly, eyes grave.
"Chandler, I'm not going back. You know that, right? I just need to feed her."
She could read him like a book.
He kissed her forehead gently and insisted, "I'll go. It's dark and it's cold, please just stay here, Mon. I'll take Tilly with me, so she can pee".
Monica gave a compliant, grateful nod, watching him carefully, still a little unsure that he fully trusted her genuinely unwavering intention to stay.
"OK." she pressed her beautiful smile to his lips, "Thank you."
She drew the sheets up to her armpits and reclined, her newly serene gaze following him around the room as he located and pulled on his clothes. His movements were fast and serious, desperate as he was to successfully complete this quest and return to the warmth of her arms, and as a doting smile curved her lips, Monica was one hundred percent sure that there was nowhere on earth she would rather be.
When he left her alone in the bedroom, she stretched out luxuriantly, her eyes drifting closed as she contemplated the idea of allowing herself a short snooze while he was gone, but then Chandler suddenly reappeared in the doorway.
"Uh, Mon? I can't find Tilly. Does she usually hide?"
"No, never".
Monica sat up immediately, confusion and worry competing on her face, as she grabbed the soft t-shirt that had soaked up her earlier tears, and hastily pulled it over her head.
She rushed to join Chandler in the living room, where he was scouring every corner, calling the dog's name in increasingly panicked tones.
"Where the hell is she? I mean, she has to be here: It's not like she could open the front door by herself!"
Monica dashed into the bathroom to hunt for the dog there, while Chandler investigated Joey's room for the second time, switching on the main light this time to give it a more thorough inspection.
The impossible vanishing went on for too long, sending Monica's heart to her throat, but then the front door flew open with a crash, and Tilly scrabbled into the apartment, her chocolate brown coat cool and fresh with night air, and a solemn, but vaguely smug, Joey clutching her leash.
"She was scratching at the door" he explained, in lieu of any greeting, "And since you guys sounded busy, I figured I'd walk her down the street."
He bent to release the dog, who made an immediate dash for Monica's tellingly bare legs.
Monica and Chandler exchanged stricken glances as Joey concertedly ignored them and began rustling in the fridge.
Monica moved tentatively towards the kitchen, tugging uncomfortably at the hem of the too-short t-shirt, feeling horribly exposed in every way possible.
"Joey, I'm sorry..."
"You don't have to apologize to me, Mon" Joey flipped the cap from a bottle of beer as he cut her off, his tone disconcertingly blithe. "What you get up to? That's your business, not mine. I'm not gonna judge 'ya."
Monica looked shamefully down at her feet, thinking that the very fact Joey felt compelled to tell her that he was not judging her behavior, implied a certain amount of disapproval in itself.
Joey extracted a stiff-looking piece of leftover pizza from a box he had removed from the fridge and pointed it accusingly towards Chandler.
"You, on the other hand? You looked me right in the eye, and you lied to my face!"
Chandler sighed as he made his way to the counter and slid an arm around Monica's waist. Joey's jaw dropped open slightly, unprepared for any kind of overt display of affection between the couple, no matter how subtle.
"Look Joey, I'm really sorry about that, OK?.."
The beginnings of Chandler's soon-to-be grovelling apology were interrupted by the trill of the phone.
Joey reached for the receiver and his expression immediately blackened, his eyes landing on Monica as he began to speak.
"Hey Richard. Yeah, you tracked her down. She's right here, just having a quick beer with Chandler and me."
Monica felt Chandler's fingers tighten their grip on her middle, as Joey continued to speak.
"Yeah, not bad thanks, man," his affable tone contrasted sharply with the stern preoccupation etched on his face, "I'll hand you over to her, OK? Yeah, Merry Christmas to you too".
Unsmiling, he held the phone out to Monica, who took it from him, eyes round and mournful.
Chandler resolutely ignored Joey's intense gaze as he took a seat on the sofa, running an anxious palm across his face.
"I'm glad I found you. I was really worried when I got back here and you weren't home." Richard's voice was gravely serious, his tone darker and more accusatory than his words, "When will you be back?"
Monica gulped hard and felt her eyelids flutter with panic as she replied as steadily as she could, "I'm not coming back, Richard. It's late, and I'm tired. We'll talk tomorrow, OK?"
Joey's eyebrows flew up to his hairline and he continued to stare at Chandler, who in turn continued to gaze fixedly down at his own feet.
"What do you mean, you're not coming back? That's ridiculous, Monica" Richard warned. "Look, I'm sorry if you felt that I should have stepped in sooner with Michelle -"
"This isn't about Michelle. You and I need to talk, and we'll do it tomorrow," Monica repeated, calm and firm, "I'm not doing this now".
"So, where exactly do you think you're going to stay?"
Monica pressed her eyes closed and inhaled slowly.
"I don't know. Ross is at Sophie's so maybe I'll go to his place. Or maybe I'll just stay here. I'm not sure yet..."
Richard knew that this wasn't true, and worse, that Monica knew that he knew. She just didn't care enough to lie better. They both knew exactly where she would be sleeping that night.
His skin began to burn and he could not keep his mounting anger from his voice.
"Just come home, alright? This is stupid! You're a grown woman. You're married. You can't just run away and have a sleepover with your friends when things get tough. You don't have any of your stuff! You don't even have food for the dog!"
"Chandler said he would pick some up for me."
Monica shriveled into her own shoulders as she rode out the red hot silence that followed.
"I'll bet he did." Richard's eventual reply emerged through gritted teeth, "Look, I'm really not comfortable with this, Monica. I'm going to head over and pick you up, right now, and we can come home and talk about this like adults".
"No!" Her voice, though loud and determined, betrayed a crack of emotion, and Chandler finally braved a glance towards Joey who returned a look of complete disbelief and then prowled silently away to his bedroom.
"We'll talk tomorrow, Richard. We'll sort it all out then. I mean it. I'm not doing this now, OK? I just can't. I'm sorry."
Chandler frowned as he watched her breath become shallow and anguish furrowed her brow.
Another uncomfortably long silence ensued before the most reluctant of growled agreements.
"Right."
And with that, the line went dead.
Monica's trembling hands barely had time to ease the receiver back into its cradle before finding herself clamped against Chandler's chest.
"Are you alright?"
He was breathless. Concerned, of course, but mainly relieved that she had stood firm, that she wasn't going to leave.
"He's not gonna come round here is he?"
"No. I don't think he will."
She looked so shell-shocked that he could not really tell how sure she was about this.
"Well, are you gonna be OK if I go out to get this dog food? I don't really want to leave you if there's a chance he's going to show up here..."
"He won't." Monica assured him more convincingly.
Comforted by the fact that Joey was here too, Chandler decided that speed was of the essence and he attached a confused Tilly to her leash once again.
As the two of them left in search of dog food, Monica retreated to Chandler's room in search of clothes, returning to the living room fully-dressed; warmer and rather less self-conscious.
She had also managed to locate the silver hair clip that she had left on his bedside table a few days previously, and as she padded towards the kitchen she was so focused on twisting her hair into a messy, temporary bun that she did not notice that Joey had also returned to the living room and was chewing on another slice of pizza on his lounger. His voice made her jump.
"Do you want a slice?" he offered, waving the almost empty box in her direction.
She suddenly realized that her stomach was practically growling with hunger. Lunch at Michelle's felt like a lifetime ago, and the atmosphere around that table had left her feeling so nauseous she had not actually eaten a great deal.
"Thanks" she smiled stiffly, extracting a rather dry triangle of pizza from the box and perching straight-backed on Chandler's lounger as she gnawed off a small corner.
"How was the party?" she asked awkwardly, between demure bites. Filling the silence with small talk seemed preferable to addressing the elephant in the room at this point, "I didn't think you guys would get home so early."
Joey's shrug was unenthusiastic.
"It was pretty good. I'd planned to stay longer, but somebody told me that Chandler took off in a big hurry, so I thought I ought to come back and check on him".
Monica's eyes became inquisitive.
"Why'd he take off?"
"Oh, some dancer girl was hitting on him all night, and when I asked her where he'd gone, she said he'd gotten all weird and freaked out, and then left."
Joey hadn't anticipated Monica's uncomfortable squirm and the twitch of jealous tension in her jaw, in retrospect, he supposed he probably should have, but it was going to take him a while to get used to this new dynamic.
"He wasn't interested in her, or anything", he quickly reassured, "I mean, that's why he was so keen to get out of there".
Monica bit down on her lip and nodded.
They sat in silence and chewed pensively on their pizza until Monica suddenly turned to face him with determined candor.
"Joey, I know you're upset with him for lying to you, but you have to understand that's my fault, not Chandler's, OK? Please don't be too hard on him about all of this. I'm the one who's been keeping this whole thing secret... because.. well...Richard... obviously..."
The mention of her husband's name caused Joey to look away uneasily, and tears of shame sprang to her eyes.
"I know what you must think of me..." she whispered hoarsely.
He began to shake his head, "Monica.."
"Please let me finish. I've dealt with this whole situation horribly, I know I have. But I need you to know: Chandler and I, we're not just messing around." Her blue eyes shone with sincerity as she told him huskily, "I really love him, Joey. I'm really in love with him".
His face softened as he met her gaze.
"And I'm really sorry. For all of it, for the lies, and for turning up on your doorstep like this..."
Joey's forehead wrinkled, finding her teary eyes hard to bear.
"I don't want to cause problems between you and Chandler. I know how much you care about him. And how much he cares about you."
Joey leapt up from his lounger and came to rest on the arm of hers.
The comforting weight of the affectionate arm he slung around her shoulder released yet another rivulet of tears, and Monica wondered how many more she could possibly have left.
"I care about you too, you know?" he told her "And you never have to worry about turning up on my doorstep".
"Thanks".
Her voice was barely a squeak. She noticed that she had left a small smudge of mascara on his white shirt and dabbed at it with her thumb.
Joey looked down at her with deep thought and he spoke tentatively.
"So, you really think this is it for you and Richard? You're actually gonna leave him?"
Monica's head whipped around to face him dead on, a hint of offense in her eyes, frustrated that despite what she had just told him, he still didn't seem to get it.
"Yes! It's over with Richard. Chandler and I love one another and we want to be together".
Joey parted his lips as if to speak, but then moistened them instead and remained silent.
"You don't believe me?" Monica's stare was full of hurt.
"It's not that. Of course I believe you, Mon. It's just a lot to take in. I don't know... I guess I always just thought you and Richard were solid. I mean, you were so unbelievably crazy about him in the beginning, and I remember how hard you guys had to fight, with the whole age difference thing, and the stuff with your parents... I never saw this coming, that's all. I guess I always just thought he was the love of your life..I think we all did..."
When Monica broke her pensive silence her voice was soft and measured, but there was a firm ferocity in her gaze. "Yeah, well, not anymore".
Chandler entered with a triumphant grin on his face, a box of dog food in the air held aloft like a trophy, and a brown paper grocery bag tucked beneath his arm, Tilly whirring excitedly around his feet.
Faint confusion flickered over his brow as he struggled to make sense of the contradictory tableau presented by Joey and Monica, their physical proximity suggesting they had reached some sort of comforting resolution, but the look on Monica's face implying anything but.
There was not much time for scrutiny though, as Monica rose from her seat the moment she saw him, a fond smile transforming her features.
"Thank you so much!" she sighed as she hooked her arms around his neck and rewarded his successful hunt with a lingering kiss.
Joey looked on thoughtfully.
As Monica bent down to unclip Tilly's lead, Chandler found a cereal bowl for the dog to eat from, and a second to fill with water.
Tilly's collar chimed against the ceramic bowl as she attacked it ravenously, emptying it in a matter of seconds.
"I found a great little store owned by some Turkish guys. They literally have everything you could ever want in there. And check this stuff out..." Chandler reached into his bag and retrieved a packet of golden baklava, glossy with syrup, "Ever tried that before?"
Monica had, but she didn't want to dampen his enthusiasm so she shook her head and smiled.
"Looks good"
"I also got you a few things, in case you need 'em tonight" he told her a little shyly, handing over the paper bag, which contained a few hastily gathered toiletries: face wash, a basic moisturizer, deodorant and the fanciest toothbrush the little store had to offer.
"I'm not suggesting you're... dirty or anything .." he grinned.
Monica smirked and her heart felt like it might just implode as she peered into the bag, overwhelmed by his considerate gesture. She ran tender fingers over his cheeks.
"You are just the sweetest thing ever, d'you know that?"
Joey cleared his throat and stretched as he vacated his lounger.
"I'm gonna hit the hay. I'll see you guys in the morning."
Chandler was still reveling in the success of his quest for dog food, and delighted by the knowledge that Monica would be sharing his bed, so he bid his roommate the cheeriest of good-nights, but he could not help but notice the wariness in Monica's eyes as they followed Joey from the room.
"Is everything OK? Has he said something to you?"
Monica frowned and gave an uneasy sigh.
"No. Not really. He was fine... nice. He said I was welcome here and everything..."
She chewed on her lip, not really wanting to relay Joey's precise words about Richard.
"It's just, we talked, and I wanted him to know that you and I are serious, you know? That we're not just fooling around. And I don't know.. I just didn't feel like he believed me".
Chandler pulled her into a sympathetic hug.
"Well, I guess it is all a little hard to believe" he mused gently, "I have to pinch myself all the time, to make myself believe this is actually happening. I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but you're a lot hotter than I am."
She gave a tut and he could tell she had rolled her eyes, even though her face was buried against his chest.
"Or maybe he just can't believe that a woman has finally managed to pin me down, you know?" Chandler sighed, adopting an expression of faraway ruggedness, "I mean, I'm the quintessential eligible bachelor, aren't I? A free spirit. An adventurer. A lone wolf..."
Monica chuckled as she poked him in the ribs "You're an idiot".
She tilted her chin for a kiss, then her eyes narrowed with mischief.
"And speaking of women trying to pin you down, when were you gonna tell me about your little dancer girl, huh? Sounds like she was pretty keen..."
Chandler gave a nonchalant shrug.
"Like I said, babe: Many have tried, many have failed. I don't think you don't know how lucky you are..."
"Oh my God. If your head gets any bigger it's gonna explode!" His mock swagger and twinkly-eyed grin elicited a wry smile and a disbelieving shake of Monica's head.
He let out a high-pitched yelp of laughter when her fingers invaded his armpits with a rough tickle, and she ordered , "Get in that bedroom Bing, I'll pin you down. I'll pin you down real good".
The kitchen was a hive of industry when Monica poked her head through the bedroom door the following morning. Two glasses of juice sat atop the counter, coffee was brewing and the air was thick with warm butter and vanilla, as a serious-faced Chandler added more pancake batter to his slightly smoking pan.
She smiled as she watched him, her head and heart floaty-light with the euphoria of waking up in his bed, but it was all tainted by a persistent knot of nausea twisting in her gut whenever she remembered that she still had to face Richard.
Thankfully, there was no sign of Joey, so she tiptoed up behind Chandler and slipped her arms around his waist. She was wearing nothing but a pair of panties, his blue work shirt, and a devilish smirk. She knew how much he loved to see her wearing his clothes, so was fully anticipating some lustful appreciation, and when he turned around and looked her up and down, she was not disappointed.
In fact, he hoisted her immediately onto the counter and met her lips with a sensuous kiss.
"Oh my God, do you have any idea how sexy you are?" His palms slid along the lengths of her thighs and squeezed at her buttocks, "You look even better in that shirt than I do!"
She chuckled, encircling him tight with both arms and legs.
"Mmmm, I'm so happy you made pancakes! I'm starving!" she hummed, burrowing her face into his neck.
"Well, you finally spent the night! I wanted to celebrate. And anyway, I make 'em for Joey's conquests often enough, seemed only right that you get the same treatment." He murmured, his lips nuzzling at her earlobe as she giggled.
"Conquest! Is that what I am?"
But before he could come up with a quip or retort she redirected his attention to the task in hand with a degree of urgency, "You'd better flip those!"
She hopped down from the counter as Chandler tended to his neglected batch of pancakes, examining the slightly blackened edges with a grimace.
"These ones can be Joey's" he assured her.
He rooted through the stack he was keeping warm at the back of the stove, selecting only the most impressively golden and fluffy specimens, and he loaded up a plate, setting it down in front of Monica, alongside a glass bottle of deep brown maple syrup, smiling indulgently as she dug in with gusto.
He plated up the rather less appealing looking pancakes he had allocated to Joey too, but they were stone cold by the time he got up.
In fact, when the yawning Italian finally wandered into the kitchen, ruffling his hair with sleepy fingers, in an apparent attempt to wake himself up, Monica was already showered, dressed and ready to leave, her damp hair scraped back into ponytail, her face makeup free, having arrived here with only her purse and her dog.
She was shuffling from foot to foot, restless and ansty, and Joey tried not to express too much interest in Chandler's affectionate attempts to placate her, picking up the juice carton and studying the label with undue concentration.
"Promise you'll call me if you need me to come get you? Are you sure you don't want to leave Tilly here with me?" Chandler was asking gently, gazing into her nervous blue eyes, tucking an escaped strand of hair behind her ear, and then stroking the backs of her arms.
Joey made himself scarce by sloping off to the bathroom, allowing them the time and space for the intimate, anguished goodbye he could sense was incoming.
"I hope it goes alright today, Mon" he called over his shoulder before he left them, and despite the hint of lingering tension between them, he really did mean it.
When Monica left, it came as no great surprise to Joey that Chandler threw himself into a state of dark, anxious brooding, and it took a while before Joey dared attempt any kind of conversation, even though honest discourse between the two men was long overdue.
He eventually plucked up the courage to approach Chandler in the living room, companionably mirroring his posture by reclining in his own lounger, and joining him in staring vacantly at the blank screen of the TV.
"So... new female roommate, and a new dog. Big day for Apartment 19." Joey eventually mused, his tone casual.
Chandler glanced towards him with grudging remorse, "Look, I'm sorry alright? And I do know that the three of us living here together, isn't a long term solution, but there's no real alternative right now..."
Joey frowned thoughtfully "No? So what's the long term solution? Care to let me in on that?"
"I haven't gotten that far yet." Chandler grumbled, turning his head away.
"Look, I don't have a problem with Monica being here." Joey assured him. "As far as I'm concerned she can stay as long as she likes."
Chandler gave a grateful bob of his head and they sat in silence once more.
"How come she took Tilly with her today?" Joey asked earnestly, picking at some invisible speck on the arm of his chair, "I assumed she'd leave her here with you, since you have the day off".
Chandler turned his head and fixed Joey with a cool stare "Just stop it, alright? I know what you're doing".
"What am I doing?" Joey challenged with a frown.
"You're trying to freak me out!" Chandler jumped from his chair, shifting from leg to agitated leg as he spoke "You're trying to make me think that she's gonna bail on me. That she's not going to leave him! I'm sure it's impossible for you to believe that a woman like Monica could fall for a guy like me, but it's true alright? We love one another and you're all just going to have to get used to that".
"I do believe it" Joey rejected quietly, "Or at least, I believe that you guys believe it."
Chandler's eyes narrowed, demanding further explanation.
"I guess... I just find it hard to imagine Monica walking out on a marriage. She's just not the type."
"Well, you don't know what it's been like for her, OK? She's not happy with Richard! I know that you and Rachel and Phoebe all think he's Mr. Perfect, but you're all way off the mark! He's not right for her, Joey! Never has been!"
Joey sighed as he looked back into Chandler's pink-cheeked anger, and he spoke as calmly and gently as he could.
"I'm just worried about you, man. Getting involved in something so complicated. I mean, I know that she really believes she wants to end things with him, and I know that you and her have always had... a special bond. But all marriages go through rough patches, don't they? I guess I'm just worried that when they start talking it all through..."
"That what? She'll come to her senses?"
"That they'll try to make it work."
Chandler stalked off towards the kitchen, his throat as dry as sawdust. He could feel Joey's eyes on him, and hoped he was too far away to see the tremble of his fingers as he poured himself a glass of water.
"How long has all of this been going on anyway? Is this the first time Monica said she'd leave him?"
Joey seemed to have transformed himself into the flesh and blood embodiment of Chandler's most pessimistic inner voice, and Chandler's knuckles paled as he gripped at the countertop, suppressing an urge to wrap his fingers around his best friend's neck instead.
"No" he admitted through gritted teeth "She tried once before, but it was just after his ex-wife found out she was ill... And then it was...Christmas ..."
He cringed as he spoke. It had all sounded somehow more reasonable and less flaky when Monica had said it.
"It's not easy to end a marriage!" Chandler muttered sullenly.
To Joey's credit, he did not scoff and kept any hint of scorn from his voice.
"I know it's not easy. Look at my dad and Ronni: They must have been together for 8 years now, and he's still no closer to leaving my mom".
Chandler scowled.
"Yeah, well, Monica's not your dad, is she. And you have no idea what you're talking about."
He stormed off towards his bedroom, thunder in his eyes. Joey really didn't have a clue. Nobody did. How could they? What he and Monica shared was special, unique. Nobody had ever felt for another person what they felt for each other; not Romeo and Juliet; not Antony and Cleopatra; and certainly not Mr Tribbiani and his pet mortician mistress. Chandler was sure of that.
And he was sure that Monica would be back.
By 9:00 pm he was feeling less sure.
There was still no sign of Monica, and he had spent the entire day rattling around the claustrophobic apartment, resolutely avoiding Joey's somber gaze and making sure that his roommate didn't catch his regular inspections of the phone, checking that it remained in good working order.
He did not attempt to call her: He had promised her his patience, just like last time, but as the minutes and hours dwindled on, he could not help but imagine that the next time he saw her she would still be in Richard's clutches. Just like last time.
The phone finally rang.
Joey happened to be standing nearby and reached an unthinking arm ready to answer the call, but he was brusquely bundled out of the way by an unashamedly frantic Chandler, who then fumbled madly with the receiver, in a hurry to press it to his ear.
"Monica?"
Joey eyed his friend sympathetically as he sputtered his desperate greeting.
"Hi" she sounded breathy. Highly strung.
"Are you alright? How did he take it?" A days worth of questions were all ready to erupt from Chandler's lips
"I haven't told him -"
Chandler's heart plummeted from his chest to his stomach and a stinging, hot red mist rushed to fill the vacuum it left. He just couldn't believe it. Or maybe he could.
"What the hell, Monica? You promised you were going to do it this time!"
"Chandler! Please just listen!"
Monica's voice was pleading and fretful, but Chandler's fury was impenetrable, even by her desperation.
"You know what? I don't want to hear it anymore! Call me when you're ready to do what you say you're gonna do, alright?"
He put the phone down with a crash, his sigh a loud expulsion of distress. When he looked up his burning eyes locked immediately with Joey's.
"Looks like you were right. Happy?" he growled, before turning on his heel and throwing his dejected body down onto his lounger.
"Of course not." Joey mumbled hopelessly.
The phone rang again, and Chandler sat rigid and motionless. His rage had quickly fragmented into its sum parts: Frustration and sadness. He could feel emotion glimmering hard in his eyes and he was determined to keep it in there.
Joey was equally still, but when it became apparent that Chandler had no intention of moving from his chair, he swiped up the telephone himself.
"Mon, it's Joey".
She let out a disgruntled sigh "Joey, just put him on, OK? This is important."
"Look, I don't think -"
"Just put him on!" Joey's flesh twitched, taken aback by her loud vehemence, and he rolled his eyes, wondering how he had managed to embroil himself in all of this. He thrust the phone towards Chandler with a stern glare.
Monica launched into her vexed explanation before Chandler had a chance to object.
"Chandler? Listen! The reason I haven't told him, is because I haven't seen him! I've been waiting around here all day, and he still hasn't shown up! I'm starting to get a little freaked out!" she hissed frantically.
"What? Well, where the hell is he?" Chandler sat up straighter in his chair.
"I have no idea! I called Michelle, I called Tim, he's not with either of them. His practice doesn't re-open until tomorrow, and there was no answer on his direct line. I'm a little worried that something might have happened to him. I mean, what if he's hurt or something? What do I do?"
Chandler gave a ruminant frown.
"He's not hurt. He's probably just trying to pay you back for last night. Just stay there, OK? Pack some things, I'm gonna come over in a cab and collect you."
"I don't know, don't you think I should just stay here in case he shows up?..."
The idea that Richard had cracked and was planning some kind of middle-of-the-night showdown made Chandler's skin ice over.
"No" he shook his head definitively, "I don't like this. I don't like this at all. I really think you should get out of there. I'm coming over now, alright?"
As her worried eyes moved uneasily around the dark, creaking emptiness of the apartment, it did not take too long for Monica to allow herself to be convinced by Chandler's suggestion.
"Yeah OK," she whispered, beckoning Tilly to her lap and hugging her closely to her chest.