A/N Thank you to everyone still reading. We're so near the end now. I'm afraid we're not quite at happy every after just yet, but there will be just one more full chapter and an epilogue to go after this one, so you can be assured that any angst will be short lived!
Chandler arrived home from work on New Year's Eve with a spring in his step and a bottle of extravagantly expensive champagne in his hand. He was not usually a huge fan of the celebration, always having found the forced frivolity and the pressure of sourcing that ubiquitous midnight kiss grueling to say the least, but this year was different, because this year, when that famous Times Square ball dropped, Monica would be in his arms.
For once, he felt genuinely excited; he was right at the beginning of what he already knew was the most important relationship of his life; and that meant that perhaps for the first time ever, he could reflect on the last twelve months with a real sense of accomplishment.
This time last year he had felt like he was drifting; watching as everybody around him seemed to be inching forward with their relationships and reaching for that next rung in their career ladder, whilst his own life seemed frustratingly stagnant; lacking any real sense of direction or movement at all.
But now, here he was: A changed man. With Monica at his side he knew that he was on the cusp of something special. Being loved by her gave him a sense of empowerment and confidence he had never felt before, and he was finally able to contemplate the fresh, blank page of the year ahead with optimism rather than with a weary roll of his eyes.
"You didn't need to buy champagne," Joey remarked, as Chandler rearranged the fridge to find space to chill the heavy, foil-topped bottle, "Ross bought a whole case of the stuff!"
Chandler arched a sardonic eyebrow. "This is my first New Year's with Monica, I'm not toasting it with that crap Ross bought! It's about as French as you are. It's vanilla flavored, for crying out loud!"
"Alright, Your Majesty" Joey mocked, giving a self-satisfied smirk before adding, "I had no idea you were such a connoisseur."
Chandler looked momentarily taken aback then guessed, "You got more Word-of-the-Day toilet paper for Christmas?"
"Yeah, just opened it today" Joey admitted with an affable nod, before edging conspiratorially close, his tone becoming hushed as he directed Chandler's gaze towards his bedroom door with a pointed nod.
"Hopefully your fancy champagne will cheer Madame up. I should probably warn you, she's in a pretty bad mood. She barely spoke two words to me all afternoon."
Chandler turned to look at him with surprised concern. Monica had been all seductive smiles and soft kisses when he had left for work this morning.
"Why? What happened?"
Joey shrugged.
"No idea. I thought maybe she was still pissed off about me borrowing her toothbrush, but I've apologized for that like four times now, I don't really know what else I can do".
"Well, for a start, you could try buying your own toothbrush?" Chandler suggested, throwing a sarcastic glance over his shoulder as he made his way to the bedroom to investigate the cause of Monica's apparent ill temper.
He found her perched, cross-legged on the end of the bed, her face looked pale, her eyes glazed and her brow taut. She definitely appeared more anxious than annoyed, so Chandler found it highly doubtful that this had anything to do with her toothbrush.
"Hey, what's wrong? Joey said you seemed upset."
She looked up at him somberly, her lips parting as if on the verge of candid speech, but then she paused and pressed them closed again. There was something in her eyes that he was unable to read, and it caused a nervous knot to twist in Chandler's stomach. Fear? A hint of desperation, maybe? He could not quite put his finger on it.
"What is it?", he asked again, continuing to study her closely.
"Nothing", she asserted briskly, "I'm just not really looking forward to this party, that's all."
He sat down at her side and wrapped an arm around her decidedly tense shoulder.
"How come?"
She gave the kind of impatient huffing sound that made Chandler think she was struggling to formulate an appropriate, off the cuff response, and he felt his own forehead strain.
"Well, we're the hot gossip aren't we? The adulterer and the homewrecker. Everybody will spend the whole night staring at us like we're a couple of goldfish in a bowl. I'm tired of it".
He had to concede that there was a degree of truth in that.
The manner in which Chandler and Monica's romantic entanglement had evolved seemed to have made their friends feel somewhat uneasy when it came to asking direct questions about their relationship. The word "affair" implied something unspeakably shameful after all, and whilst there was no indication that any of their nearest and dearest were judging them harshly for their actions, as word had filtered through their inner circle, nobody seemed to know quite what to say to them. This wordless acceptance had come as a relief in some ways, but it was accompanied by a whole lot of curious peering as everybody sought to make sense of this fascinating new dynamic.
"Oh let 'em stare" Chandler dismissed, jostling her shoulder and then kissing her cheek, "They'll soon get used to it. And anyway, I doubt I'll even notice. I only have eyes for you".
He brought a hand to her face and gently urged her lips towards his own, but he felt a flare of panic in his chest when she blinked back what looked like a fleeting look of distress.
"Mon! Please! What is it?"
His tone was grave and determined now and he frowned again when he saw her throat move as she swallowed.
"I just don't want to go to Ross's" she insisted, "I'd rather stay here".
He was convinced that there was more to Monica's strange mood than she cared to divulge, but he was also sure that no matter was bothering her, hiding herself away in their bedroom and avoiding their friends was not going to make her feel any better.
"Oh come on, honey. It's our first New Year's together! It'll be good to have a little fun. I got your favorite champagne so you don't have to drink the crap your brother bought..." he gently cajoled, desperate to elicit a smile, "And you said you were looking forward to having a reason to wear that sexy black dress. Please don't tell me that the one time I have a smokin' hot girlfriend to kiss on New Year's Eve she's gonna stand me up?"
"Is that why you're so keen for us to go?" she asked snappily, "So you can parade me around like some airhead ego-boost? I had enough of that when I was with Richard, thanks".
Chandler turned his whole body to face hers, and his jaw dropped incredulously.
"Are you for real?"
He looked so utterly wounded by her sharp rebuke that Monica had to avert her gaze for a second, before mumbling an immediate apology.
"I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that".
Her hand found his and she gave his fingers a contrite squeeze, glancing up at him guiltily with liquid, doleful eyes.
"The reason I'm keen for us to go, is that I'd like us to spend a fun evening together, without having to hide from everybody. I just thought it would be nice to hang out, you know? Like a normal couple."
"I know. I'm sorry." she reiterated in a whisper, and Chandler thought he saw a hint of an emotional tremor on her chin.
"Look, why don't we just go over there for a little while? And if you're not having a good time we can leave." he gently compromised.
Her capriciousness was bewildering, but he remained convinced that an evening of Rachel and Phoebe's company would ultimately do Monica some good.
She nodded her reluctant agreement, her eyes charged with a sudden soul-stirring urgency that he just could not fathom, and then quite without warning she threw her arms around him with such fervor and force that she practically knocked the wind from his lungs.
"I'm sorry" she murmured again.
He found himself imprisoned in her embrace, inhaling a mouth full of her hair, but he held her as tight as she evidently needed to be held, a perturbed frown tugging at his forehead.
It was less a party, more a sedate gathering of people that waited to see in the New Year in Apartment 20.
As well as their usual gang Ross had invited a handful of their neighbours, some people he knew from work, and a few of Ben's friends' parents, but there was very little in the way of circulating going on; each clique sticking closely together and congregating in their own separate corners of the room. But still, the drinks were flowing and everybody seemed cheerful enough.
Trying to keep his mind on the conversation he was half-having with Sophie and Ross was proving nigh on impossible for Chandler, his worried eyes continually drifting over to the living room where Monica was sitting with Joey and Rachel, looking excruciatingly gorgeous in her slinky new dress, but just as stiff-backed and serious as when Chandler had first arrived home. Her ruby lips were set in a somber pout and her agitated fingers picked frantically at the skin around her thumbnails.
The process of getting dressed up for the party and applying her makeup had seemed to have a temporarily soothing effect on Monica when they were back in the apartment, Chandler could tell she was making a real effort to drag herself out of this funk she was in. She had even managed to partake in a little playful banter with both Chandler and Joey, but as soon as they crossed the hall, Sophie's presence had proven an immediate source of discomfort.
Their eyes had met as soon as Chandler and Monica had walked into Ross's apartment, and Monica had physically flinched, the link to Richard casting a heavy shadow.
Initially, Sophie had looked similarly tense, her green-eyes growing wide with apprehension when they met Monica's, but she had attempted to diffuse the unease with an awkward smile and small wave of greeting.
Monica, however, had remained resolute in her efforts to completely avoid Sophie, which had in turn led Chandler to over compensate on her behalf.
He had always found Sophie pleasantly easy to get along with, and it did not take the two of them long to re-establish a friendly rapport despite recent goings-on. She seemed just as happy and willing as Chandler was to pretend everything was entirely normal.
Ross was relaying some tedious story about a dull-sounding advancement in computer technology when he handed Chandler a freshly-opened beer and then poured Sophie a glass of his tawdry champagne substitute. Chandler allowed himself a moment to enjoy the horrified pucker of Sophie's lips when she took her first sip, and he stifled an amused snigger before turning once again towards Monica. This time she caught his eye, and she fired him a subdued, red-lipped smile that still managed to make him tingle, despite her solemnity.
He left Ross and Sophie and made his way to her side, placing a loving kiss on her smooth, bare shoulder as he sidled close. He could feel Rachel's inquisitive eyes on him, but he did not care one bit.
"Did Sophie say anything?" Monica asked in an urgent whisper.
"Nothing!" he assured her, but when she looked up and saw that Ross and Sophie were gravitating closer to the group, striking up a conversation with Joey, Monica looked panicked.
"Honey, it's a party. Nobody wants to talk about anything heavy. Just try to relax".
He kissed her again, this time on the cheek, and he ran a soothing hand down the length of her arm.
"Awww, look at you guys! You're so cute! I still can't believe you're doing it."
Phoebe had appeared, as if from nowhere, and plonked herself down on the coffee table right opposite them, a fond but slightly patronizing grin plastered on her face. She looked impossibly sophisticated in a high-necked, sleeveless, green satin gown, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the huge glass of lethally sweet and fruity, alcoholic punch she was noisily slurping through a straw, and it soon became apparent that even though they had more than an hour to go until midnight, her inhibitions had already been significantly lowered.
Gone were the respectfully furtive glances of curiosity Chandler and Monica had experienced so far; two of her best friends were doing the deed, and Phoebe Buffay wanted the details.
"So, how did this all happen?" she probed, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand, making sure the couple knew that they had her undivided attention whether they wanted it or not.
"It's a long story Pheebs," Chandler attempted to shut down her interrogation as he felt Monica twisting about uncomfortably next to him.
"That's alright, I'm not going anywhere!" Phoebe pledged amenably, "So, who came on to who?"
"Well, I guess it was just a mutual thing" Chandler answered with swift diplomacy.
"Oh come on!" Phoebe flapped a scornful hand, "Somebody must have made the first move! I'll bet it was Monica."
"What makes you say that?"
Rachel's doubt-filled interjection provoked a surprised glare from Chandler. The fewer participants in this particular conversation, the better.
"Because Chandler would have messed it up". Phoebe turned to Rachel just long enough to give her a matter-of-fact shrug, her face a declaration of the obviousness of the answer, then her head swung back to Chandler and Monica. "So when did you first sleep together?"
"Ahhh. That was the night they came to see my play," Joey was next to chip in. His face was aglow with unfathomable pride as he shot Chandler a knowing look and told him, "You're welcome, buddy!"
Chandler acknowledged him with sarcastically arched eyebrows.
Phoebe's eyes misted over as she traveled back in time to that fateful evening at the Bacchus Playhouse, eventually conceding with an understanding nod,
"Ah yes. I can see how that happened. It was a very romantic piece of theater".
Joey returned a puffed-up look of self-congratulation.
Chandler braved a glance towards Monica. She was so ill at ease she appeared almost queasy, her gaze knitted to the floor.
"So what about that girl from work you were sleeping with? Was she imaginary?" Phoebe forged on.
"I didn't have an imaginary girlfriend, Phoebe!" Chandler told her impatiently, keen to bring this conversation to a close. "I just had to come up with a cover story, that's all".
"Right. Because of the video camera thing", Phoebe recalled, suddenly taking a long, dramatic intake of breath when she realized with glee, "Oh my God! The video camera! That was you guys!"
Most of the group had been keenly eavesdropping for quite some time already, but Phoebe's exclamation was loud enough to grab any remaining attention.
"Thank you, Phoebe!" Monica finally spoke, casting an embarrassed glance around the group before fixing the delighted blonde with a steely glare. She threw a quick scowl in Joey's direction too, irritated by his lewd grin and eager nod of confirmation.
"My God, Monica!" Ross reprimanded as he mentally relived the scene he and Joey had inadvertently stumbled upon through an entirely new lens.
Monica had hoped that her brother might have missed Phoebe's revelation, and Chandler felt her shrivel against his side.
"Look... that whole thing was a lot more..tasteful... and artistic... than it looked, alright?" he stammered pointlessly, earning him a skeptical, narrow-eyed headshake from Ross.
"Maybe that Fellini exhibition inspired you... you know...got your creative juices flowing...?" Sophie proposed with timid helpfulness.
"Got somethin' flowing" Joey smirked.
Ross looked nauseated as his girlfriend's well-intended but ultimately ill-judged words trailed off and her cheeks blushed pink.
"Mon, would you like a drink?" Rachel cleared her throat loudly and kindly offered a hasty diversion, standing up and inciting Monica to join her in abandoning the increasingly humiliating conversation. Chandler stood up too and followed the two women to the kitchen.
Monica flopped back against the kitchen counter as Rachel hastily handed her a glass, but she managed just one glug of potent fruit punch before giving a decisive sigh.
"You know what? I think I'm just gonna go. I'm sorry Rach, I'm just really not feeling up to this".
"Oh Mon, don't let it get to you! Phoebe didn't mean anything by it, she's just a little wasted I think. Look, they're all talking about something else now." Rachel coaxed softly, sliding a sympathetic arm around her friend's shoulder and hugging her close.
"It's not that." Monica promised, " It's just been an exhausting few weeks and I'm not really in the party mood. I don't want to make a scene or anything. Just... give my apologies, and make sure they all know I'm not pissed off, or being dramatic, OK?"
She kissed Rachel on the cheek before fleeing across the hall with Chandler following closely on her heels.
Tilly was delighted by their return and Chandler bent down and attempted to calm her zealous greeting.
"You can stay at the party if you like" Monica assured him quietly, "I'm probably just going to head straight to bed".
He stood and grabbed her by the hands, pulling her body flush to his.
"No way. You are the only person I care about spending New Year's with and I don't care where we spend it."
He kissed her before musing with a grin, "In fact, I can't really think of a better place to spend New Year's Eve than in bed with you.."
He almost cracked a crude joke about the ball drop but managed to stop himself; relatively certain that she was not in the mood for such crassness.
Instead he offered to take the dog out to do her final business of the year, resolving to be quick, and beseeching Monica not to fall asleep while he was gone.
He only remembered the bottle of authentic, non-vanilla flavored champagne that was still sitting in his kitchen when he and Tilly were on their way back home, weaving their way through a small throng loud-voiced, high-spirited New Year's revelers. When they made it back to the apartment Chandler extracted the chilled bottle from the fridge, grabbed two glasses and joined Monica in the bedroom.
"Bonsoir, Mademoiselle," he put on his deepest, sexiest, graveled French accent and raised a theatrically seductive eyebrow, leaning back against the door as he presented his effervescent offerings.
Monica was sitting on the bed removing her earrings, but she was still wearing her dress, and the same faraway expression that had clouded her features all evening. The paltry smile she managed to return, in reward for his clowning, was so far from convincing, that Chandler felt his frustration finally spill over.
He gave a loud sigh and set down the bottle and glasses with a clatter, pleading with her, "Monica! Will you please tell me what's wrong! Don't tell me it's nothing, OK? I know you! Is it something to do with your new job?"
He hesitated before adding, "Or has Richard done something?"
Her strange behavior had been sending all sorts of things swimming through Chandler's mind.
Monica's head shot up at the mere mention of her estranged husband, and the troubled hesitation on her face told Chandler that she was finally on the verge of delivering some candor.
She clasped her hands together nervously on her lap as she looked into his eyes and spoke.
"Chandler, I need to ask you something, OK? And I want you to be honest with me"..
His confused sea blue eyes locked tight with hers and he sat down next to her on the end of the bed, angling his knees to face her, and placing his cool, gentle hands over her rigidly balled fists.
"Of course I'll be honest with you!"
"It's just that after everything that's happened with Richard... I have to be sure... I have to know that we're moving in the same direction, Chandler; long term, I mean. I need to know that we can offer one another the things we each need"
"So Richard really got under your skin, huh? He actually made you believe that I can't give you what you want?"
He was not looking to add to Monica's distress but he found it impossible to mask his exasperation, and he could hear the bitter annoyance in his own voice.
"I don't care what Richard said. I want to hear it from you, Chandler. I want to know what you need. And I want you to promise me that you're not going to just tell me the things that you think I want to hear, OK? I need you to tell me the truth".
"Monica, I will always tell you the truth", he assured her gravely.
She nodded, suppressing an anxious frown.
"OK... So then tell me honestly, what do you see for us in the future? And please don't just say what you think I want you to say."
He eyed her steadily. She looked like she was unable to breathe.
"I assume you're asking about marriage? And children?"
She looked down at her lap again and asked in a small tentative voice, her tone resolutely neutral, "Well, is that what you want?"
He looped his arm around her and kissed the top of her head.
"Mon, of course it is! I mean, not right away... we haven't been together all that long, and we have a lot going on right now. But eventually, yeah. Of course I want those things".
She kept her gaze low and did not say a word, so Chandler continued, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips as he confessed,
"I know everybody assumes that I'm some commitment-shy idiot who won't ever settle down, but the truth is, I just never found anybody I wanted to settle down with."
He paused to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, then dipped his head closer, trying to see her face.
"But the future looks a lot brighter and a lot clearer now. I can picture it. I can see us all, you know, living in a small place outside the city, where the kids can learn to ride their bikes and stuff... And Tilly can chase them all round the yard... Of course we'd have an apartment over the garage where Joey can grow old..."
"Kids?" she asked huskily, still not meeting his eyes. "Plural?"
"Yeah. I was thinking four."
She looked up and met his hesitant admission with surprise, the soft light from the bedside lamp revealing a sheen of emotion shimmering in her eyes.
"A boy; twin girls; then another boy" he elaborated with a shy, lopsided smile.
She took a tremulous inhale and looked completely overcome for a moment, then made a sudden scramble for his lap, wrapping him up in her arms, her watery eyes and the humidity of her breath hot and damp against his neck.
"Are you alright?" he whispered as a small, stifled sob convulsed her shoulders.
"I just had no idea that you'd thought about all of this stuff."
"Well I have" he reiterated, "It's not scary anymore. Not when I imagine it with you".
The noise she made was something between elation and pain.
"I'e gotta say, you still seem pretty sad..." he observed worriedly, "Is that not how you see it? I mean, we can totally lose the apartment for Joey if you're worried about him sneaking into the house to use your toothbrush..."
His neck smothered her tiny whimper of a laugh.
"It sounds perfect" murmured words scorched the soft skin between his jaw and his ear, "You're perfect. You're everything I ever wanted, Chandler, and I'll love you forever."
The intensity in her voice was so beautiful it made his heart want to burst, but it also caused him to draw slowly back from her. He still felt unsettled, and his eyes felt the need to find answers in her teary face.
But there were no more words.
Her fingertips created a soft frame for his cheeks as she kissed him with a tenderness that made him ache, lips light and delicate, then gradually more insistent.
The satisfaction that hummed in his throat sent her fingers combing their way deep into his hair to caress his scalp. He tugged gently on the zipper of her fitted black dress, slowly easing the straps from her shoulders, his palms roaming the warmth of her back as he peeled the fabric down to her waist; caressing her rippling muscles and descending over the knots of her spine.
She kissed him and kissed him, her tongue fluttering against his as she gently unburdened him of his shirt, and they both shivered when the tips of her breasts brushed his bare skin.
Their lips were still melded as they fell back onto the mattress, entwined in each other's arms, but then her warm mouth left his, making its way ever so slowly south, leaving trails of goosebumps down his neck and across his chest. The muscles in his abdomen jumped beneath the sweep of her silken hair.
There was nothing teasing about the slow, deliberate blanket of wet, sensuous kisses that loved every last bit of him; nothing playful at all; this was pure veneration.
He hissed as her hot breath and velvet lips ignited the sensitive, seldom-exposed skin beneath his hip bones and naval, and when she eased his pants and boxer shorts down his thighs, spine-tingling pressure began to build in his core.
His eyes rolled back when she took him slowly into the heat of her mouth, and an earthy groan rang loud from somewhere deep in his gut.
The sensation of her lips and tongue rolling over him again and again, was nothing short of rapturous, and intensifying so fast that he knew he might just get lost.
Before that could happen he pulled her back up so that they were face to face. His skin was already hot and damp, having been set wildly aflame by her beautiful mouth, and as he held her close, her soft alabaster curves felt soothing and cool by comparison.
He told her that he loved her, and he kissed her swollen lips, then followed the same pattern she had, taking his time; languidly worshipping every inch of her flesh; savoring her; loving her.
He drank in her reaction to the unyielding swirl of his tongue, his own breath hitching when he heard her cry out and felt her flail and quake.
As she heaved and recovered, his lips caressed her breasts, tasting the salt that had flowered from her roused skin.
She was still panting hard as she reached for a condom and urged him closer, cradling his body between her legs.
He rested his forehead intimately against hers, and watched as her eyes flutter closed, feeling the heat of her ardent gasp on his lips, as he sank slowly and blissfully inside her, a growl of heaven-sent pleasure grinding through his clenched jaw.
Her thighs clamped around him like a vice, as if it was physically impossible for her to get him as close and deep as she wanted him.
"I love you" she whispered, "I love you so much."
Those same words, spilled warm against his cheek, over and over, like a prayer.
Slick and slow, the meditative pace they settled into was both mind-blowing and torturous, and Chandler locked his arms around her fevered body, his muscles taut with pent up desperation.
They stared deep into each other's eyes, climbing higher with every exquisite thrust, still excruciatingly steady in rhythm, but gaining in power and depth.
The indescribable pleasure welling in his core was becoming too much for him to bear, turning into the most divine pain. His need for release raged so hard that he knew the agony must be showing on his face, but he couldn't tear his gaze from the absolute devotion that pooled in the beguiling blue depths of her eyes.
A hungry shift of her hips finally brought him some relief, inviting him to up the tempo. By this point, he was ready to beg, though he did not really know what for.
Her eyelids slammed shut, and she held on to him like her life depended on it. He felt her whole body convulse, and a long primal cry set him free, heralding a mutual ecstatic eruption that pulsated and drenched, blinding him to the world for what felt like an eternity.
As they drifted back towards earth, she clutched his spent body against her heaving chest. He was deafened to everything but the violent thump of her heart, and he suddenly realized that he genuinely had no idea what year it was. And he really didn't care.
He brought his lips to hers with a sated groan, then grinned widely, "Happy New Year"
She said it back but even to her own ears her words sounded like ghosts.
The heat was evaporating fast from their bodies, and they settled beneath the sheets. He huddled against her cooling flesh, and she coaxed him into the crook of her neck so that her face was mostly buried in his hair; her hands cradling his head with a reverence that suggested she was afraid her fingertips might cause him to shatter into dust.
She listened to the gradually slowing rhythm of his breath as he drifted into blissful slumber, knowing all the time that sleep would not come so easily to her tonight. Instead she lay still and quiet, immune to the sounds of New Year cheer that erupted all around her, both near and far.
Her heart throbbed so much it ached as she looked down at his lashes resting peacefully against his cheeks; and felt his lips, slightly parted in relaxation, so soft, brushing against her skin. She pressed her own eyes closed, memorizing how it all felt; the weight of his arms; the smell of his hair; the rise and fall of his chest; how safe and loved she felt in his embrace. She wanted to preserve it all in the depths of her soul, to carve it on her heart and keep it with her forever and ever.
A hot tear seeped from the corner of her eye and rolled from her cheek to the pillow.
Chandler knew he was a worrier.
An over-thinker.
Somebody who could find a route to catastrophy from any given scenario.
So over the next few days, as he continued to navigate life with this new, bewilderingly taciturn version of Monica, he tried to push back the instinctive feelings of dread that kept making his stomach lurch.
She loved him.
He knew that she did.
Even though she was acting all weird, she was not reticent about expressing her love for him; he never had cause to doubt it for a second.
But she really was acting very weird.
He told himself, over and over, that she had been through a lot lately; it was understandable that she was a little low; he just had to be patient with her.
But no matter how much his conscious mind tried to placate him, deep down Chandler could not shake the terrifying feeling that she was slipping through his fingers somehow; that the bonds he was desperately trying to secure around them both had all of the strength and permanence of rice paper in the rain.
It was almost a week later when he got up for work to find her already up, showered and dressed and pacing the kitchen. She was expecting a phone call about her new job that day, and seemed even more on edge than usual.
She had not been sleeping well, he knew that; he had woken up in the night a few times this past week, groggy and barely awake, with a vague awareness that she was sitting up, straight and morose in the darkness; or else clinging to him tight, whispering desperate I love you's against his sleeping back, believing they would go unnoticed and unheard. Each time he had stirred and attempted to murmur "Are you OK?", only to be deftly hushed, and stroked, and soothed back to sleep.
"I made you some pancakes" she told him as he took a seat at the counter, and she wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing his neck then unsuccessfully trying to smooth his wayward, sleep mussed hair with a fond hand.
"Pancakes on a Thursday? What have I done to deserve that kind of treatment?" he grinned, planting a kiss upon her cheek as she shrugged.
"Aren't you having any?" he asked as she handed him a bottle of syrup then reached for her coat.
She shook her head.
"I'm going to take Tilly out now because I don't want to miss that call from the restaurant. And I have... a load of other stuff to do today".
"Did they say what time they would call?"
She shook her head again, and his eyes softened as he observed the anxious flicker of her brow.
"Try not to be nervous, honey: It sounds to me like this job's in the bag! Call me and let me know what they say, OK? Maybe we could go out for dinner later to celebrate?"
Her eyes shone with indecipherable emotion as she breathed, "Yeah. I really hope we can".
His general sense of pervading unease left Chandler feeling practically as nervous as Monica was when it came to the outcome of this job offer. He was genuinely concerned about her ability to bounce back from a rejection right now, given her emotional state. Not that he could really profess to know all that much about her emotional state, beyond being confident that she was "not quite right".
He called her a few times over the course of the day, eager for news, but received no reply. He was not really sure why the lack of communication bothered him as much as it did, she had warned him she was going to be busy, but an anxious unpleasantness had been stirring and roiling in the pit of his stomach all day, so by 4:00 pm he decided that the time was right to sneak out of the office a little early, offering Linda an incoherently lame excuse about a last minute meeting as he passed her desk.
When he arrived home he knew immediately that Monica was not there thanks to the absence of an enthusiastic dog at his feet, instead he was greeted far less warmly by Joey, who fixed him with an austere glare and folded his arms angrily the second he walked through the door.
Chandler had no idea what he had possibly done to deserve such an icy welcome from his roommate, so returned a look of inquiry.
"What's up Joe?"
Joey continued to scrutinize him with eyes as hard as flint before giving him a crisp reply.
"I don't know, Chandler. Why don't you tell me.."
After days of being left similarly bemused by Monica's mood swings, Chandler was beginning to wonder if he had somehow completely lost all ability to read the thoughts of his closest friends.
"What's going on?"
"When were you planning on telling me that you and Monica were thinking of moving? I can't believe you would keep something like that from me, man!"
Chandler shook his head and searched his mind.
"Nope... you've completely lost me"
"Look the game's up, alright? That restaurant left a message for Monica. I know you guys are thinking of going to LA!"
The fact that Chandler's confusion took an immediately darker turn, morphing rapidly into a panicked look of foreboding, made it pretty obvious that this news to him too, and Joey suddenly looked guilty and apprehensive.
"Uhhh I might not have heard the message right..." he conceded.
Chandler made his way briskly towards the machine without saying a word and hurriedly hit the "play" button, staring down at the counter top with deathly serious eyes as the offending message began to play.
"Hi Monica, It's Jade again. It was so great to talk to you earlier, everybody's really impressed by what they've seen and heard from you so far, and Stephen's really excited to meet you in person. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I've made a few calls, and if you do decide that you would like to take up the LA role instead of the job in Manhattan, there's definitely scope for us to make that happen. Obviously, it's a big decision, so have a think about it over the weekend, and we can talk about it when we meet next week. Looking forward to seeing you then! OK, bye!"
He played it again.
"Have you seen her?" he asked Joey in a low, thunderous rumble of a voice.
"No" Joey mumbled apprehensively, "She wasn't here when I got home."
Chandler was already storming across the hall as his roommate tried to finish his sentence.
"Have you seen Monica?"
The violent swing of the door, and the fact that no words of greeting preceded Chandler's brusque demand, caused Ross and Sophie to look up in alarm from where they had been snuggling and giggling in the armchair.
"No, I haven't seen her since yesterday morning"
Chandler's grave panic was so intense it was immediately contagious, and Ross rose to his feet to join his friend in the kitchen. Sophie appeared uncomfortable and she moistened her lips and turned away as if to afford them subtle privacy.
"Have you spoken to her?" Chandler continued his interrogation, "Has she told you that she's thinking of taking a job in Los Angeles? Is it only me she's decided to keep out of the loop?"
Joey had slipped in through the door too now.
"What? No! What happened to that job she was going for uptown?" Ross looked every bit as disorientated by this news as Chandler.
"They have a restaurant in LA too, and there's a message on our machine saying that Monica is currently deciding which one she wants to work at!"
"And she didn't tell you?" Ross sounded dubious.
"Does it look like she told me?"
Chandler pointed angrily towards his own face, his furious gesticulations were becoming ever wilder.
"There's gotta be some mistake" Ross decided sensibly.
"No" Chandler refuted, adamantly shaking his head as he began to pace up and down "No. She has been super weird all week long. I knew there was something going on with her. I knew she was hiding something from me. Why wouldn't she tell me about this? I mean, what? Was she planning on running away to Los Angeles without even telling me?"
"Chandler! You're probably getting yourself all worked up over nothing! It's most likely just a big misunderstanding. Wait until Monica gets home and then talk to her about it." Joey advised calmly, as Ross nodded along solicitously.
"I would speak to her about it, if I even knew where she was! She said she'd call me this afternoon but she didn't; and she didn't answer any of my calls either."
Sophie cleared her throat and looked desperately unsure of herself as she began to speak.
"Ummm... I don't know if this is relevant... but I think she was meeting Richard this afternoon. Maybe she got tied up with him".
Ross and Joey exchanged a worried glance as they awaited Chandler's response, which when it came, was every bit as explosive and high-pitched as they had imagined it would be.
"Why would she meet up with Richard without telling me about it?" Chandler didn't really know Sophie well enough to round on her the way he just had, so he swung around to face Ross instead, his cheeks flushed and his eyes flaming. "She hasn't even spoken to him since she moved her stuff over here!"
"Actually she has." Sophie gave an apologetic wince. "She came to see him at the practice on New Year's Eve".
The ensuing silence was so cripplingly uncomfortable that Sophie had to fill it.
"Sorry. I hope I'm not speaking out of turn. I mean, I'm not suggesting there's anything weird going on," she stammered nervously, "I assumed they were talking about the divorce, she looked pretty upset when she left, so I figured they'd argued and that was why she wasn't really in the party mood that night..."
Chandler looked back at her unblinking but blind, then turned towards Joey.
"New Year's Eve is exactly when she started acting all strange. She started asking me all of these intense questions... about what I can offer her; asking whether I'd ever want to get married and have kids. I should have known it had something to do with him. He's said something to her, hasn't he?It's obvious! He's tried to poison her; make her doubt me."
He whipped back around to Sophie.
"Is she still with him now? Where was she meeting him?"
"I'm sorry, I have no idea" Sophie's shoulders hunched as she apologized.
Chandler brought his fingernails briefly to his teeth, thoughtful for all of three seconds before steaming towards the door.
"Chandler!" Joey's objection to his friend's hurried departure was weak. He and Ross locked eyes, both knowing exactly where Chandler was going, and also that there was little point in trying to dissuade him.