Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Museum Meet-Cute
Monica Geller wrestled open the door with one hand while attempting to steer a toddler-filled stroller with the other. Tamping down a frustrated growl, she didn't know which to direct her ire at more: her brother for calling her down here at a moment's notice, or the museum where he worked for not installing automatic doors.
Thank goodness it was a weekend morning, and a rainy one at that. Although Monica would have much preferred to spend such a day staying at home and playing with her daughter, they did say museums were the perfect outing for a rainy day. So, when Ross had called asking her and Emma to come down and visit him at his place of work, Monica had reluctantly agreed.
Ross had been weirdly vague on the phone when she'd asked what was the urgency. Monica hoped it was little more than him wanting to see his baby sister and his niece. Just the same, if he was angling to have a lunch that didn't involve him sitting alone eating in his office, he was paying.
Crossing the expansive lobby, Monica observed how it indeed was busy here today – parents everywhere herding their little kids from one exhibit to the next. She even noticed the clumpy contours of what was clearly a school group field trip, which seemed odd for a Saturday.
Shaking out her umbrella (yet another thing she had to juggle), Monica disengaged the locking brake on Emma's stroller and pushed further into this hallowed hall of science. She spotted her big brother right away, emerging from one of the corridors leading back to the offices for museum staff. A bronze-haired gentleman tailed him just a few paces behind.
"Mon!" Monica pursed her lips in a friendly smile as Ross dashed up to her. The bronze-haired gentleman strangely came to a halt just behind her brother and off of his shoulder, which made Monica's eyes narrow curiously as she leaned around the stroller to wrap her brother in a hug.
"Hi, big brother…." She sighed in that breathless, hurried, apologetic way that folks do when they're meeting up after fighting busy city traffic. "Sorry I'm late…." She glanced down at Emma fondly. "Someone wanted to take her own sweet time having breakfast…."
"Well, then perhaps it's just as well I'm not hungry for lunch!" Ross giggled a little at his attempt at humor.
Monica rolled her eyes. "Really? I'm shocked." Though, in truth, she'd be even more shocked the day she ever heard Joey Tribbiani, Ross's apartment roommate, declare that he felt like skipping a meal. A struggling actor, Joey was a teddy bear and a shameless, if also harmless flirt. He'd even hit on Monica a few times, especially following her divorce. "So what did you just have to have me bring my daughter down here for?"
"There's someone I want you to meet! This is Chandler Bing! You remember me mentioning him? From college?"
Glancing over Ross's shoulder as he stood aside, Monica turned to the handsome man who'd been standing awkwardly behind her brother and listening to their conversation. She was first struck by the piercing brightness to his deep blue eyes. He had a naturally self-deprecating upturn to his smile, as Chandler stepped forward and he and Monica shook hands. A jolt of electricity passed from palm to palm and Monica barely held in a gasp.
"Oh, yes! I remember!" And indeed, Monica did recall her brother mentioning a Chandler back when he was in college. The pair had been dorm mates at Columbia, though Monica had never met the man – not even at Ross's graduation. She studied Chandler, intrigued. "Weren't you the guy my brother always tried to bring home for Thanksgiving?"
Chandler flushed, ducking his head a little. "I've never liked Thanksgiving," he murmured. "The food, it's…. rich, and…. fancy and irritating. And it gets everywhere! Well, the gravy does."
Monica smirked. "Well, I'm a chef, so I know something about rich and fancy food."
Chandler's eyes widened with horror as he feared he had… "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend…."
"No, it's all right, really!" Monica laughed. She tucked a raven lock behind her ear shyly. "I…. I understand about dietary restrictions and all that, more than most."
Ross giggled. "Would you believe me if I told you Monica used to be fat?"
Monica frowned, wrinkling her nose. "Ross!"
"No. I wouldn't believe it," Chandler actually responded. His eyes made a barely perceptible, appraising sweep of Monica's now-lithe figure. Monica actually flushed down to her chest. Strange. She hadn't blushed this much in the presence of a guy since…
Well, since…. Richard.
"Monica goes all-out on Thanksgiving!" Ross was bragging to Chandler. "You really missed out when you would turn down my invites! Her turkey leftover with a moist maker…." He made a chef's kiss with his fingers.
Chandler flushed awkwardly and shuffled his shoes.
Monica smirked at her brother. "Awwww, poor Ross…. Not being able to bring a guy home…."
Ross's face dropped into a scowl and he banged his wrists together. "Anyway!" he bawled loudly, slinging a friendly arm around Chandler. "The museum's migrating us over to a new digital filing system, and we partner with WENUS Analytics. And who do they send over to perform the data transfer?" He ruffled Chandler's hair; Monica was impressed by how Chandler didn't immediately throw him off the way she would have done.
Chandler smiled good-naturedly. "Small world, right? It was great to see you again, old buddy!"
"Well, don't be a stranger now!"
"Are you kidding? Now, I know where you live!" Chandler said this like he was a dark horror-movie villain, even while he glanced around with amusement at the museum. Monica stifled a giggle. Chandler glanced at his watch. "Well, you may not be hankering for lunch there, Ross, but I am."
"Oh, Emma and I were just looking for a place ourselves! There are some great eateries around the Villages. I…. I can show you, if you like." Monica was almost taken aback with herself at how boldly she offered.
Chandler nodded, smiling. "Sure. That'd be great."
Ross glanced between his sister and his college friend, clapping his hands together in pleased satisfaction at them having been introduced. "Well, awesome! I gotta get back. Nice seeing you, sis! Bye-bye, Emma!" He departed with a kiss on the cheek for his sister and a ruffle of the hair for his niece.
Staring at each other for a moment, Monica ducked her head shyly.
"If…. if you'll just follow me…."
Chandler nodded. "To the ends of the earth."
Monica felt a weird flutter in her belly at that.
"So, if you were my brother's roommate, how come I never met you before? Not even at Ross's graduation?"
Monica was studying her tablemate curiously, while balancing a curly fry between her fingers.
She and Chandler were seated under an awning outside one of the nicest grill restaurants in the city, though the rainy clouds had by now parted to reveal a breathtaking sunshine.
Chandler shrugged as Monica, keeping her eyes focused on him, absently dangled the French fry for her baby daughter to grasp, where she wriggled in the stroller just off her mother's foot. "I didn't stay to walk for my diploma. Hopped on a flight back to Nevada the second my last exams were over."
"You parents lived out that way?"
"Still do. Well…. my dad does. He runs a burlesque show in Vegas. My mom's been here upstate, ever since their divorce, working on her novels."
Monica blinked, fascinated by this handsome friend of her brother's. "She's a writer?"
Chandler grinned. "Thank God. You've never heard of Nora Bing, then?"
Monica's eyes expanded. "Oh, my God, she's your mother?! I've…." She cleared her throat, suddenly feeling abashed. "I mean, I've read some of her work."
Chandler chuckled, his smile showing all of his teeth. "That's OK. I can see why she would be appealing. She likes to brag that single women and young mothers are her biggest demographic." There was a brief silence. "So: what about you?"
Monica blinked, startled a little by the question. "Oh. Well, I, um…. I'm a chef, when I'm not parenting this adorable one here…." She tickled Emma's foot.
"Yeah, she's a real cupcake," Chandler stated, but not with the dismissive tone Monica encountered from most other men. Guys like that tended to focus only on her, and only gave Emma a passing glance, if they ever noticed her at all. "You and her dad must be very proud."
Monica bowed her head into her lap. "Emma's father is…. out of the picture," she stated delicately. Glancing up, she gauged Chandler's reaction carefully. How his face fell in genuine sympathy.
"Oh. I'm…. I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Monica clipped with a shake of her head. She took a deep breath. "Richard…. My ex-husband….. He didn't want a baby. I did. He's older and already had kids who were grown. But I would see Ross with my nephew…."
"Yeah, Ben! He was showing me a picture on his desk…."
"…. and it…. it just would make me ache! You know?"
Chandler nodded, absently picking at a thread on the white tablecloth. "I can understand that," he mumbled. "I can even understand your ex's point of view, a little. My parents…. they weren't equipped to really be parents, you know? And sometimes, I'm afraid of having kids of my own because I don't want to be the way my own mom and dad were: ambivalent about me."
Monica's heart twinged in sympathy, going out to this man. "I wish ambivalence was all it was with Richard. When I got pregnant with Emma, he wanted me to have an abortion, but I was adamant: I wanted a baby…. But I didn't want to be with someone who didn't want one as much as I did." She unexpectedly had to wipe a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry…."
"Don't be," Chandler crooned. "If you guys had such different ideas about parenting and never the twain shall meet, you were right to divorce him. I can't imagine anyone not wanting this little cherub…" He made a silly, exaggerated face at Emma, who squealed. Lifting his head, his eyes met Monica's sapphire ones. "… or you. Who wouldn't want you?"
Monica blushed. She ducked her head. "You're sweet."
"I'm also serious."
Monica barked out a laugh. "Oh, so you're serious now?" She teased, her eyes sparkling.
"I can be!" Chandler laughed. "You should see me in the office!"
"Hmm," Monica demurred. "What does a data analyst do all day, anyway?"
"Number crunching. Data entry. It's the height of drudgery, truly."
Monica peered at him. "If you hate it so much, why don't you quit?"
"Honestly? It pays the bills."
Monica smirked as she lifted her coffee mug to her lips. "Cynical sounds more like it."
"That may be. But I was brought up to be cynical, just from watching how my parents couldn't really handle themselves."
Monica nodded thoughtfully. "I get that." A beat. "My parents…. love my brother more than they love me."
Chandler snorted. "I'm sure that's not true."
"It is. It seems like the only time my mother was actually proud of me was when I got married – to my dad's best friend, no less!" At Chandler's surprised look, Monica shrugged. "It was a whirlwind romance. I was young and in love. Or thought I was." Chandler nodded slowly, studying her – but not, Monica noted, with any judgment. Trying to shake off these sad thoughts, Monica reached for her purse.
Chandler saw it coming. "Oh, no you don't. I'm paying….."
"Nonsense!" Monica laughed. "I treated you…."
"…. With good food and excellent conversation. And the adorable little antics of a months-old baby. I'd say paying you back by footing the bill is only fair." The waiter appeared and Chandler was quicker on the draw than Monica, laying his credit card down.
Monica half-smirked, half-pouted as the waiter whisked away. The competitive side to her was steaming at being outmaneuvered. "No fair….."
Chandler shrugged haplessly. "Gotta be quicker on the draw, Geller." A beat, and he caught himself. "Unless…. You still go by your married name…."
Monica shook her head. "Emma has her dad's name, but I didn't want to be addressed as Burke for the rest of my life."
Chandler's face scrunched up. "Burke? Sounds like some kind of lettuce," he joked.
"Actually," Monica giggled. "It is! There's a really excellent species of lettuce known as E-Z-Burke!"
"Ironic. It sounds as though Richard was anything but E-Z!" Chandler cracked, startling a shriek of laughter out of Monica. "And now he's your E-X Burke!" She hooted.
Chandler and Monica talked and laughed long after the waiter returned with the receipt, and until another waiter had to come and politely shoo them away, to make their table available for the dinner rush. Chandler, in a fit of gallantry, even hailed a taxi for the young single mother and her child, daring the taxi driver to try and drive away so as to avoid having to load a stroller into the trunk.
Turning at the door to the cab, Monica smiled. "Well….. I'm really glad Ross introduced us, Chandler!" She tilted her head, studying him. "I hope you won't be a stranger with me, either?"
Chandler blushed at her calling back to Ross's entreaty and he shook his head. "Nah. You and Ross will see me around."
Beaming, Monica waved to him, climbed into the cab and melted into the plush backseat.
She couldn't remember the last time a guy had made her smile like that. Or feel so…. so…. seen…..