Monica sighed restlessly as she glanced at the clock, proclaiming in red
neon letters that it was early morning. The need she had felt for Chandler
the other night was rushing through her blood again, and sleep was
impossible.

As much as she wanted to go to Chandler's apartment, as many excuses as she
came up with, she still had a part of her protesting, repeating over and over
again that it was wrong. If she went and pretended to be dream-walking again,
Chandler might figure it out. If not, the voice inside kept telling her she'd
be using Chandler.

Because that's what she was doing . . . using him for her frustrations. There
might be a blossom of a feeling for him, but she couldn't figure out if it
was just friendship or something more. And, frankly, she didn't want to find
out. If she knew for sure . . . well, she was afraid of the answer.

Cleaning, Monica thought to herself firmly. She was getting onto a dangerous
topic and her mind needed to just move on to a new one. Cleaning a mess
Rachel made. Cleaning the floor. Cleaning the carpet . . .

* * * * *

Monica woke up the next morning feeling tired and miserable. She had recited
every thing in the world there was to clean the night before and the only
bright side was that it kept her from thinking about Chandler.

She went to the kitchen and angrily began putting together breakfast.

"Hey, Monica," Rachel greeted, cheerful for once as she walked out of her
bedroom. Ross followed behind her and waved at his little sister.

"What's for breakfast?" Ross inquired.

Monica threw the plate in her hand on the floor. "Why does everybody expect
this of me! I didn't get one minute of sleep last night because of that
bastard and his stupid mind games! It's not my fault at all, he's been doing
something to make me think about him."

Rachel and Ross simply stared at her in shock before Rachel finally asked
softly, a little scared: "Um, who're you talking about, Mon?"

Monica seemed to snap back to earth and she began to sweep up the broken
plate. "It's nothing important," she grumbled to Rachel.

"Morning, children," Chandler greeted, coming into the apartment with a
cocky stride.

"Beware of the beast," Rachel whispered to him when he came close enough.

Monica set her eyes on him with a glare and put her hands on her hips.
"*You*," she declared.

"Me?" Chandler echoed, pointing to himself.

"You," Monica confirmed.

"Now, what about me?" Chandler asked, starting to get confused.

"It's just . . . you!" Monica sputtered, exasperated. "You and-and that
gorgeous smile. And your laugh. And the way you moan my name. And I can't
even figure out whether you or my dream Chandler is the real one!"

"Well, if it helps I'm the real Chandler," Chandler offered jokingly as
Rachel and Ross still looked confused.

"It doesn't," Monica said. She sighed, anger leaving her. "It's probably
just PMS or something," she finally mumbled, finishing the job she started on
the plate she'd broken.

* * * * *

"What the hell was that about?" Ross asked Rachel after Monica left for work.

"What?" Rachel asked, coming out of the bathroom while putting on some
earings.

"Monica," Ross said as though his girlfriend were an idiot.

"Like she said, probably PMS," Rachel said dismissively. She frowned as she
considered. "Although usually PMS doesn't result in all that stuff she said
about Chandler. Did that confuse you as well?"

"Well, I got the part about the dream Chandler," Ross said, sounding not too
happy about it.

Rachel laughed coyly. "I did too. Chandler didn't seem too surprised though.
Remember how he reacted when he found out I had a dream about him?"

Ross stopped laughing and gave her a cold, jealous look.

* * * * *

That night Monica was going through the same problems as the night before.
The fact that Rachel had slept over at Ross's didn't help either; it made it
too easy for her to go get Chandler and bring him back so they could make as
much noise as they wanted.

Even naming off every type of cleaning there was wasn't helping. She
reorganized the refrigerator, Rachel's closet (which took pretty long being
as Rachel had so many boots), and she had finally given up and just lay on
her bed, closing her eyes but not really asleep.

A quiet, hushed noise made her eyes snap open. Maybe Rachel and Ross had a
fight and Rachel was coming home to pout until they became inseperable again
the next day . . .

But when her door opened quietly and she saw Chandler peeking his head
through she sat straight up in bed.

"Would you believe me if I said I was sleep walking?" Chandler asked quietly.

Monica shook her head and swallowed, trying to re-wet her dry mouth. Think of
something witty and flirty to say! she commanded herself. "It doesn't matter,
I get the two of you mixed up."

"Well, I'm the real one," Chandler said, deciding it was safe to come into
her bedroom. He grinned at her. "The one with the amazing smile that moans
your name the right way."

"That's just the Chandler I was hoping to have tonight," Monica whispered,
sitting up in bed so that she was kneeling.

"Have?"

"Ravish," Monica corrected herself. Chandler had been creeping closer with
each second and he was finally close enough for her to wrap her arms around
his waist and pull forward. "You know, we've never really kissed while
knowing it's not a dream . . ."

Chandler took a moment to flash another gorgeous smile and then kissed her
softly. "Was that a good first kiss?" he asked after breaking the gently
touching of their lips.

Monica shook her head. "I need it more like this." She ran her hands up to
his head and kissed him hard and thoroughly, her tongue invading his very
willing mouth roughly.

"That was good," Chandler admitted, shrugging a little. "But I don't want to
spend the whole night kissing."

Monica broke away from him playfully. "Is there something wrong with my lips?
My kissing stlye?"

"God, no," Chandler said, snorting.

Monica gave him a coy, meaningful look. "Then make it up to me."

Chandler glanced towards the ceiling as if to say 'thank you, God' and then
climbed onto the bed and over her body. "First things first, Mon. Unless you
want some interesting sex we'd better get these limitations off."

"Limitations?" Monica cocked and eyebrow.

"Clothes, you imbecile," Chandler said, rolling his eyes affectionately and
taking his robe off at the same time.

"Right," Monica said, grinning as she pulled her silk night shirt off of her
body. Truth be told she had been hoping, almost knowing, that Chandler would
come, so she'd dressed in silk instead of her usual cotten oversized
T-shirts. So once the night skirt was off she was completely naked and
unashameed at his eager eyes sweeping over her torso appreciatively.

"Not that I love the attention, but you still have boxers on," Monica pointed
out, moving her hands to tug at the elastic band hugging his waist.

"Right," Chandler said, snapping back to reality as he quickly became as
naked as Monica. "So . . ." he said, a little awkwardly.

"Oh, we've done this before," Monica said, sitting up, grabbing his
shoulders and bringing his crushing wait on top of her.

"I like it when you take initiative," Chandler whispered a bit breathlessly
into her ear after another long kiss of passion.

"Really?" Monica asked, smiling at him as she reached her hand down to grab
his hard cock and squeeze once.

Chandler made a half gasp/choking sound in surprise. He gave her a look that
said he was planning on getting even and moved downwards to bite sharply
on one of her nipples.

Monica made a sexy, throaty sound and Chandler did it once more before
moving down her body to her flat stomach, grazing his teeth along her smooth
skin until he reached her dark, thick mat of curls.

Monica spread her legs immediately to give him better access, but he merely
put his lips around her clit and sucked shortly before crawling back up her
body.

"Hey!" Monica argued.

Chandler gave a pointed look towards his penis. "I'm really not in the best
mood for games. Maybe after this . . ."

"After this?" Monica asked softly.

"If you want," Chandler said a little shyly.

"Chandler," Monica said, giving him a look. "The last time I ever had a wet
dream was when I was fat and ugly and still a virgin. There's something about
you that my body . . . and mind . . . can't get over. I am *not* going to be
satisfied with just tonight."

Chandler couldn't help the smile that slowly came upon him. "That's exactly
what I prayed you'd say." He paused and positioned himself at her entrance as
her legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his back. "So, ready to
begin? After this there's no looking back."

"I stopped looking back after the other night," Monica said in answer.

Chandler shrugged as if to say 'fair enough' and guided himself slowly inside
of her, closing his eyes and letting the moment last forever.

"You know, you're kinda slow," Monica complained, bucking her hips and
grinding her feet into his butt.

Chandler's eyes opened and he smiled. Then he began to keep a rythem that
kept Monica from portesting anymore. Unless of course those moanings of his
name were protests . . . but he doubted it.

At the moment of release everything, all the tensions, fromt he past couple
of days seemed to be relieved with those ten simple seconds of pleasure,
seeming to last much longer as heaven parted and the wolves howled.

Panting, Monica snuggled up to Chandler's side. "You ready for another
round? Maybe this time we can play games," Monica said.

"Give me a minute," Chandler said. Then added: "And we have the rest of our
lives to play games."

"Really?" Monica asked, leaning up to look him in the eyes with a giddiness
she hadn't expected to feel.

"Really," Chandler answered, his voice filled with affection and love towards
Monica. "That is . . . unless Ross finds out. I have a feeling I'm dead if he
knows what we've been doing lately."

"If he were as smart as he claims he would have figured it out this morning,"
Monica said, eyes sparkling.

"All right, I'm ready," Chandler decided, flipping so that he was on top of
Monica. "Are you?"

"Always."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

End of series.

Wow, first time I've ever typed those words. Aren't you proud? I'm thinking
my dry spell is over cuz I wrote this in just a little while and I suddenly
have an eagerness to write again.

Although it could also be that they're playing repeats of season four, the
late eps so they're leading in -- my fav -- season five! The most non-boring
season of Friends history. So, maybe I just needed something to relight my
spark. And, I'll tell ya, those season eight eppies just aren't doing it for
me.

~Haley