When Chandler checked the time for what felt like the thousandth time in the last hours of the current millennium he couldn't believe it was still more than half an hour to go until midnight. Still too early for the last crucial part of his wonderful plan he'd worked out so carefully in the last weeks to get his relationship with Monica out of that bad place they'd maneuvered themselves into. That cul-de-sac they hadn't been able to back out of. And all because of one foolish decision, one crazy idea that had seemed so perfect and wonderful at the time, but turned out to be nothing more than a pipe dream that left them with a bitter aftertaste as they had to face the consequences of their actually getting married in Las Vegas.

Still half an hour to go and there was nothing more he could do in preparation for his very own New Millenium celebration that he hadn't already done or seen to. And so far everything was working out quite smoothly, so well actually as if it had been Monica who'd planned it all instead of him alone. Maybe a bit of her organization skills had finally rubbed off on him? Anyway, Monica was still sitting on the couch completely engrossed in watching Dick Clark's Rockin' Eve and trying to spot Ross and herself dancing the soles of their shoes right through at the taping of the show two weeks earlier. Ross was sitting next to her and the way he was glued to the screen, forever commenting and even screaming along had Chandler suspect he had totally forgotten about his role in the plan. But no matter, most of his part was done anyway. If Ross actually left now to go up to the roof where the others had been busy all through the evening, though always taking turns, Monica would surely notice something was going on, even with all of her attention focused on the TV.

Monica. His wife, for all he wished now that it had never happened.

If only someone had stopped them. If only they had stopped each other at some point or other – at the marriage license bureau, say, or at the receptionist's desk at the chapel, even at the altar – and shushed each other, or clapped a hand on their mouths before they could utter their I do's. But they had gone through with it, said those fateful words, exchanged their kisses, and still so exuberantly happy, almost swooning with joy. And all of it without any best men and maids of honor, without wedding guests and dancing, without a wedding dress and tuxedo, without bride's bouquet and rice, and yes, even without rings. Somehow that still seemed the most incredible fact about the whole thing, that they hadn't thought of buying wedding rings. Although, maybe not as crazy as the fact that they still hadn't bought those rings, more than three months later. It was inexplicable, but every time they tried and went to some store or other to look at rings, they couldn't go through with it. It was as if there was nothing available that seemed fitting and suitable for them, that looked right for the occasion. Chandler suspected that a ring would somehow have meant that they accepted the Las Vegas marriage was real, that they were really married and that it was all there was. Nothing more. A ring would have been a reminder of something they were both slowly but truly trying to avoid remembering, even trying to forget.

Because somehow, as crazy as it seemed, that was what they'd ended up doing, trying to forget that weekend in Las Vegas after they'd come to the end of the wild crazy ride and reality had reasserted itself. That had happened much sooner though, in fact, as soon as they had left the wedding chamber of the chapel and come face to face with their friends' shocked disbelief. He still remembered it so vividly. Ross especially had looked as if he'd just realized what a narrow escape he'd had. It turned out that he and Rachel had wanted to get married too, but had been delayed at the license bureau because they had been too drunk to fill out the forms properly. Rachel had had the hardest time understanding what had happened. "What? Monica and Chandler got married? Nooooo!" Even worse, she'd then turned to Monica immediately to glare at her something borrowed, blue and new. "How could you get married in THIS?!"

Joey had actually been the only one of the gang to congratulate them, though not without chiding him first for not taking him along to be his best man. Last but not least Phoebe had been coolly dismissive and indifferent, claiming that it didn't matter because if you got married in Vegas, you only were married in Vegas. It was only when Monica earnestly put her right that the awful truth dawned on Chandler. They were married. Married! Legally and binding, not just in Vegas but everywhere. And forever, unless they chose to have the marriage annulled – but on what grounds? – or, even worse, to get divorced again. Otherwise they had to stay married. And live with the consequences.

And those consequences had made themselves felt almost immediately. After their friends had gotten over their initial shock, all their cheers and congratulations had somehow felt halfhearted at best, and at worst, smacked of envy and disappointment. At first Rachel had only been mad at Monica for refusing her the chance to be her bridesmaid, but when they were back in New York and it turned out she had to move out of the apartment, her anger and resentment knew no bounds. Joey too went through several phases of denial until he finally accepted that Chandler had to move out. Phoebe kept asking them if they had filed for divorce yet. Strangely enough Ross had been the most supportive at first, but later started to pester them with question when they would get married 'properly'. The final straw had been at Thanksgiving when Monica's parents visited and it turned out that hadn't even known yet that he and Monica were together, let alone married. Monica hadn't dared tell them because for some mysterious reason they didn't like Chandler. When Monica forced Ross to come clean about him being the true culprit instead, Ross had retaliated by giving it all away. By then not even Rachel's pie fiasco could deflect the brunt of Monica's parents' speechless consternation. Especially after they had to admit that there were no plans for a 'real' wedding. Although, come to think of it, Jack and Judy had somehow backed off rather quickly when Monica mentioned that she would need to make a big withdrawal from the wedding fund for a proper wedding.

A real wedding. To Chandler it appeared as if everyone he came across would sooner or later ask him when they would get married 'for real'. Properly. With all the bells and whistles, including everything they'd missed out on their impromptu marriage in Las Vegas. That they had gotten married so suddenly, without any of their friends or relatives present to witness the event and with nothing to show for it afterwards but a marriage certificate and a rather shaky photo provided by the chapel staff. Oh yeah, the photo. Thinking back, Chandler decided that his resolution to try and fix this horrible mistake had really started at seeing Monica's face when she looked at the picture for the first time, her first sentimental elation giving way to dismay and embarrassment. She never said a word about it, but also never referred to it again, even hid it out of sight as soon as they had returned to New York, for which Chandler was secretly grateful. It would have driven him crazy if that picture had been put on display where he'd have to see it every day. The picture which showed them standing in front of the altar in their ordinary clothes, with Monica still in that silly blue sweater with the prominent Caesar's logo on it, flanked by two chapel employees with smiles that were just too cheerful to not be faked. It looked all wrong. Fake, incongruous, out of place and above all, wrong, demonstrating all too clearly what a bad idea this rushed marriage had been. How much it sucked, and what a horribly bad joke it turned out to be. As they had realized all too well since then.

Still, they had tried. Tried valiantly to make the magic of the moment last, to reassure themselves that they had done it for love, to demonstrate their commitment to each other and strengthen their bond. To treat it as a gift, a chance they had been granted and that they would forever have regretted if they hadn't snatched at it. Monica especially seemed wildly determined to cling to this belief in the ultimate romantic dream, her deepest wish getting fulfilled so suddenly in the most surprising and unexpected way. Though Chandler suspected that she was in denial about it since admitting the wedding was a bad idea was tantamount to admitting defeat, something she'd never been able to do. Also all the work and organization Rachel's moving out and his moving in required of her had given her a major boost in the first three or four weeks after they had returned to New York. Only when he had settled in her – their – apartment and things had slowly gone back to normal, the misgivings and doubts had begun to set in.

For one, they didn't feel married. Chandler didn't know how it was supposed to feel like being married, but he was sure it wasn't like this. As if nothing had changed, apart from their living together. They were no wedding gifts, no honeymoon – neither of them had wanted to take time off work for it – no belated wedding reception or at least a party. It had been three months now and Monica still hadn't said anything about changing her name to Bing, and whenever Chandler thought about it, it was only about whether to file his next tax return jointly or singly. Nothing more.

It was only after Thanksgiving and the confrontation with Monica's parents that Chandler had finally decided to actively put a stop on all of it. A stop to the uncomfortable silence between them, the denial, the pretense that everything was alright. Nothing was right. They had taken a shortcut, and jumped ahead, thereby denying themselves all the experiences that walking the long road would bring them, all the milestones they would arrive at together. They'd taken the fast track, the cable car to the peak instead of climbing the mountain, step by step, and then found that once they stood on the summit that the air had gotten much too thin for them and all the paths left were going downhill. The false and hollow magic of Las Vegas had made them believe that saving themselves all the time and effort would work for them when the opposite was true. They had been inveigled to cheat and consequently had cheated themselves out of everything that would have made a marriage meaningful and worth striving for. The true achievement, not a false prize that turned out to be ultimately worthless.

And almost immediately after he'd put his plan into action, Chandler realized that above all else he felt relieved. All his life he'd tended to avoid confrontations and taking actions that would lead to changes and overthrowing of the status quo, however disagreeable it had become. In the two months after Vegas he done just that, carried on as before, as if nothing had changed, refused to even think about it let alone deal with it. There had been quite a few bouts of anxiety and sleepless nights, but he'd simply blamed them on the fact that he was still too afraid of commitment and responsibility. It had worked in the past, why shouldn't it work now? Except now that he'd finally come to his senses, he felt appalled at himself. How could he have let things slide so much? What if Monica had lost patience and broken up with him? How lucky was he that she hadn't gone back to Richard? In hindsight it seemed he'd come to his senses in the nick of time. After all, it had been his idea. He'd gotten Monica to go along and thereby cheated her of the real thing. Which now felt even worse than if he'd really cheated on her.

Twenty minutes to go. The final twenty minutes of the millennium. Taking a deep breath Chandler casually walked over to the couch and perched on the armrest beside Ross, giving him a gentle nudge when his brother-in-law (and how weird was it still that Ross should be that?) took his eyes off the TV just long enough to grab at the bowl of chips.

"What? Stop that, you're – oh. Oh okay. Yeah, don't worry, I've got it covered." Ross waved him away, almost sweeping the bowl off the table. And then Monica screeched.

"There, you see them? That's the couple that got on the platform! The ones that went commando!"

"What? Where?" And Ross was back at it again. Chandler sighed and got up. There was nothing to it, he just had to trust Ross to remember his part of their plan before the countdown. True, it was hard to believe that Ross would forget after he'd invested so much time and patience in their plan since the day Chandler had knocked on his door to ask a favor – and assure him at length that it didn't involve his divorce lawyer's phone number. Now neither Ross nor Monica seemed to even notice when he left them alone in the apartment and gently closed the door behind him, which didn't bode well for him. Still, he left them to it and went up the stairs to the top of the building.

When he opened the door to the roof, he came to a dead stop, his jaw dropping. Phoebe, Joey and Rachel had surpassed themselves in getting everything ready. They had set up a stereo, a table with several bottles of champagne in buckets and enough flutes for them to toast the new millennium ten times over. But all that paled before the sight of what had to be hundreds of candles distributed everywhere, from small tea lights to big wax candles, sitting on the bannisters and steps, tables and chairs and also on the floor where a number of them seemed to demarcate a rough square of about 2 by 2 yards. The dance area. As he took it in, Chandler suddenly felt his knees turn to jelly.

Dear lord, how could he ever have even dreamed that this could work?

"Hey, there you are!" Joey grinned and clapped him on the shoulder so hard Chandler nearly lost his balance, only saving himself from falling by grabbing at Joey's –

"Hey, I told you not to wear that fly! And the tux! What if Monica –"

"Hey, careful with that!" Joey took off the fly to straighten it. "If I'm your best man, I need to look the part!"

"Joey - - " Chandler grabbed at his head. "For the last time, it's NOT a wedding!"

"Alright!" Now Joey was pouting.

"Hey, you didn't run!" Now Phoebe came over. "So you're really sure you want to do this?"

Chandler chose to ignore this. "Phoebe, this really looks great."

Now she looked almost embarrassed. "Really?"

"Yes! It's perfect! Those candles, they're ..."

"They were my idea," Rachel said as she popped up behind Phoebe so suddenly it made him jump.

"Really? Well, it looks fantast-"

"Yeah, yeah. So where's Monica? Are you sure you can pry her away from the TV?"

"I don't know" he admitted. "I told Ross to take her up."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Ross? She'll never come up. Okay, I'm going to – oh, here she comes! Monica! Monica! Come on, we're waiting for you!"

"Stop it, Phoebe," Chandler muttered under his breath as Monica came up the last steps, smiling goodnaturedly at Phoebe's antics while also seeming a little vexed, probably because she wasn't sure that she and Ross wouldn't pop up on the TV screen as soon as her back was turned. But then she caught sight of the candles and came to a stop, staring in amazement.

"Oh – oh my god! What is this?"

Chandler put on a smile that stretched almost to his ears and held out a hand to her.

"Monica, will you dance with me?"

"What?"

He grinned even harder. "Dance. With me. Into the new Millennium."

Still looking dazed she took his hand and let him lead her onto the square on the floor.

"But – dance? How?"

Chandler kept smiling. "The Routine. I want to dance the Routine with you." He straightened and spread his arms wide. "Right here and now."

Monica's eyes widened. "The routine? You?!" She whirled around to glare at the others around them. "Is that supposed to be a joke? Ross!"

Ross held up his hands defensively. "No joke, I swear. He practiced with me."

"What?" Monica turned back to Chandler. "You practiced - - ? But … you suck at this!"

Chandler shrugged. "You're welcome, sweetheart."

"Hey, could you get started already? It's five minutes to midnight!" Phoebe yelled. "Don't forget the group hug!"

Chandler looked at Rachel who grinned back as she started the music, then he pointed two fingers at Monica just like Ross had taught him, locking her eyes to his and then snipping his fingers in the count of the beat.

"One two three four - five six seven eight –"

Once he'd arrived at four Monica joined in, almost automatically as it seemed to him, though still looking dazed and unbelieving. But after seven she really got into it and delivered the pretend slapping; then they smoothly got into the next steps and Chandler gave it all he had, taking great care to look totally serious and determined with it. This had been a major problem when he'd practiced with Ross, remaining serious at this seemingly absurd cavorting, right up to not adding any goofy moves of his own as he was constantly tempted to do. But now he suddenly realized that it wasn't absurd at all. He could do it. He was dancing with Monica, going through the steps side by side with her, in complete harmony. They boogied, joined together, slapped hands, going around and around, she twirling as he guided her into it and pushed her out again, her coming back to him, and then both of them dancing opposite each other like mirror images, again in perfect sync the whole time.

And watching Monica's face he saw her expression gradually change from dubious puzzlement to tentative joy which then gave way to pure exhilaration as they went through the steps again and again, the others around them clapping their hands and swaying to the beat, cheering them on. Chandler dimly noticed early fireworks going off beyond the bannisters and the countdown starting from where the TV was standing, but he kept dancing right on, hoping that the song would hold out long enough – or forever as far as he was concerned.

When it finally did come to an end, he almost missed Monica's signal, but rallied just in time to catch her on his hip as she jumped at him. And then she clung to him with shining eyes, her legs wrapped around him as he held her tight. Now that the music had stopped, he could hear the countdown being called out on Times Square via the TV and repeated by the people on the roofs, in the windows and streets under and all around them. Ross, Joey, Rachel and Phoebe now stood huddled together with their arms around each other, close but with just enough distance to give them privacy, joining in the countdown.

FIFTY-TWO! FIFTY-ONE! FIFTY!

Chandler swallowed. This was it. Now he had to do it.

Monica slid down him to stand on her own feet again, but without letting go of him.

"Oh that was so amazing! How did you – when did you - ?"

Chandler smiled at her while he slipped his hand into the pocket of his sweater vest, almost panicking when he couldn't find it at once and then breathing again when his fingers closed in on the small box.

FORTY! THIRTY-NINE! THIRTY-EIGHT!

"You're even better than Ross!"

"I heard that!" Ross shouted, but Monica ignored him. "I want to do it again! We could enter dance competi- - - what? Chandler! What are you doing?"

THIRTY-FIVE!

He had gone down on one knee before her while holding up the ring in the opened box.

"Will you marry me?"

Monica's mouth formed a perfect O as she stared speechlessly at the ring.

THIRTY!

"Again?" Chandler added for good measure.

TWENTY-SEVEN! TWENTY-SIX!

Monica tried to speak, fumbling for words as she took a closer look at the ring.

"Oh – oh my god - - but, but – Chandler, we are already married."

TWENTY-THREE! TWENTY-TWO!

"No, we're not."

"What? Of course – "

"Not for real. That was just a dress rehearsal. Now I want to do it for real."

NINETEEN! EIGHTEEN!

"I want a real wedding. I want you in a white wedding dress with a train 20 yards long. I want me in a tux and a top hat, and I want a wedding carriage and bridesmaids and maids of honor and best men, and children scattering flowers and old ladies weeping, and old gents making dirty jokes, and you throwing the bouquet so high nobody can catch it –"

FIFTEEN! FOURTEEN!

"And I want us to say our vows and I do's and then kiss each other in front of all our friends and families, and not just a Vegas wedding official. I want all the things we missed out on." He held the ring up even higher. "So, will you please marry me – for real?"

TWELVE! ELEVEN!

For an endless moment Monica stood as if frozen in place. When the countdown arrived at the last ten seconds, Chandler slowly got to his feet, still holding up the ring between them. Monica hesitatingly held out her hand and he slid the ring on her finger, quite relieved to note that it fit her. Monica looked at it as if in a dream, slowly raising her hand to her face as if to scrutinize it.

SEVEN!

"… yes …"

Her voice was so small, with her lips hardly moving, that Chandler couldn't be sure he'd heard her or only imagined it – until she shook herself out of it and jumped at him, throwing her arms around his neck so hard he rocked back on his feet and almost lost his balance.

FIVE! FOUR! THREE!

"YES! YES! YES!"

Dimly Chandler heard everybody shouting out the last numbers around him and cheering madly for him and Monica while hopping up and down with their arms linked.

TWO! ONE!

And their lips met on the exact stroke of midnight, pressing together and sealing their consent while shutting out the world around them at the same time, enclosing them in an invisible bubble for a magical moment where time had no meaning and the only thing that counted was their being together, holding each other and kissing, their bodies fusing and molding against each other to become one, their heartbeats and breaths in complete sync.

Happy New Year! Happy New Year!

Happy New Millenium!

Now there were fireworks all around them, bathing them in their multiple colors as they exploded against the sky and showering fiery sparks. Chandler saw them reflected in Monica's eyes and against her hair and skin, and all of a sudden he felt transformed, as if he had arrived at some sort of nexus where he could perceive innumerable different point of views, different times and realities. Monica in his arms was changing with every view, every shower of fiery lights letting her appear differently and yet always remaining unmistakably herself. There was the overweight young woman of her late teens, in that pathetic long dress as red as her glowing cheeks, grabbing at his neck as she kissed him, her chubby fingers digging into his Flock-of-Seagulls hairdo, being replaced in the next instant by the stunningly elegant lady in the dark purple dress one year later staring searchingly at him with her hands on the lapels of his coat as their heads were drawn together almost inexorably, then he was kissing Monica in a big winter coat standing in the snow that reflected all the colors of the rainbow from the fireworks up above, their breaths forming thick white clouds in the cold air between them; Monica in her long clinging silver sequined evening dress walking up to him as he pleaded for a midnight kiss … It seemed too much all at once, impossible to take it all in, all the wonderful times they had met and kissed in that one magical moment repeating itself over and over in all the uncountable worlds where nothing was real and yet everything was true, always on the stroke of midnight at the change of the year, forever fleeting and yet firmly anchored in time and kept safe in that one precious fragile yet indestructible moment.

Only one moment that seemed to last for an eternity and yet was over in an instant, one blink of an eye. He felt her lips moving against his, her mouth welcoming him in, her teeth gently grazing over the tip of his tongue, and it seemed only seconds later that they were already moving apart again and staring at each other. Chandler started to speak only to find himself too dry-mouthed and hoarse and had to clear his throat first.

"Happy New Year, Monica" he said softly and grinned joyfully as she smiled back widely.

"Happy New Year – New Millenium, Chandler!" she cried, pulling him close to kiss him again.

"Happy New Year! Happy New Year!" All of a sudden they were no longer alone, their friends crowding in on them and breaking the spell. Joey was thumping him on the back while Phoebe tried to envelope them in a giant bear hug. And then Monica was throwing her arms in the air, holding out her hand with the ring on it for all to see.

"I'm engaged! I'm engaged!"

"Yeah, you are!" he shouted back, both laughing like loons. Rachel and Phoebe were already squealing and hopping in place in their efforts to grab at Monica's hand and get a glimpse of the ring while Ross hugged him and congratulated him on his dancing and the proposal all in the same breath.

Then Monica broke away from them to lean over the bannister and scream her joy at the streets below. "I'm engaged! I'm engaged!" Even though she was barely audible in all the noise from the fireworks and crackers still going off and the mad cheering and shouting, Chandler saw people from neighboring buildings salute her, mouthing their congratulations and waving. Then Ross and Rachel brought them all glasses brimming with champagne and they all clinked and toasted both the arrival of the new millennium and their engagement.

"I call best man" Joey shouted, and predictably enough Ross immediately protested vehemently, starting the two of them off with heated arguing and bickering, quite oblivious of everything else. Rachel and Phoebe watched them amusedly until all at once the question of bridesmaids was raised which immediately had them arguing just as heatedly as the guys. And Monica was still waving and yelling at the city around them, while Chandler was watching her and his friends bemusedly and feeling as if he was caught in a dream.

But dream or not, he had done it. He had gone through with his plan. And now he had succeeded beyond his expectations. Monica and he were back on track, walking down the road of their relationship together after covering even more ground than they had with their fatal shortcut. It had worked. He had made the plan, learned the dance and gotten the ring, that beautiful ring with the stone that exactly matched the color of her eyes, the ring that had never been stuck in the gullet of a duck or been given to anybody else before her. And now she was wearing it on her finger, and flaunting it for all and everyone to see.

"I'm engaged! I'm engaged!"

"No, you're not," he said quietly, smiling widely when her jaw dropped at this, and drawing her to him.

"We're engaged. You and me."

"Oh my god! You're right! Yes! We're engaged!"

"Yeah, we are!" he agreed, lowering his head towards her to kiss her. Monica put her hands around his neck and then all of a sudden went rigid while staring at something over his shoulders.

"OH MY GOD! ROSS! WE'RE ON TV!"

Chandler instinctively clapped his hands over his ears to protect his eardrums as he turned around. Sure enough, there they were, Monica and Ross dancing the routine, on TV, for everyone to see – everyone who was still watching of course, and who also happened to take an interest in –

"The bloopers show?!" Only after he'd said it he wanted to kick himself for saying it out loud, but fortunately Ross and Monica hadn't heard it as they breathlessly stared at the small portable TV. Now Ross was hectically stabbing at his cell phone and groaning in frustration when he couldn't get through and trying to compensate the failing connection by shouting so loud Chandler figured he could be heard all over the Tristate area regardless.

"What's wrong with that phone?! Hello? Hey! Hello! Mom? Is that you? Yeah, it's me. I'm on TV! What? Ouch! Monica! Yeah, her too. What? Monica! Monica and me! We're on TV! What? What do you mean you didn't see it? It's now, we're on TV now! Yes! There we are! That's us! What was that? Huh? The gag reel?" Ross turned to stare at the TV again, the phone still clamped to his ear. "Yeah, I see what you mean. But still! We're on TV!"

"And Monica got engaged," Chandler added as casually as he could. Ross frowned at him, making shushing motions and then listened again.

"What? Oh, right, Monica got engaged. What? Who to?"

"To whom" Chandler corrected him and Ross shot him a dirty look.

"No! No, not Dick Clarke. To Chandler! They want to get married now for real. A real wedding this time. Yeah. Yes, I'll tell him." He winked at Chandler, mouthing 'congratulations', listened some more and then rolled his eyes.

"No, they didn't get engaged on TV!"

.

.

.

He came to himself at the sound of their alarm going off and the sensation of Monica leaning over him to switch it off, almost crushing him though in a quite pleasant way, and he didn't even bother to open his eyes. Only when she elbowed him rather determinedly he realized that the alarm had been for him too and that they were meant to get up early, no matter how late it had gotten the night before, with him and Monica celebrating until the small hours and then of course having their very own final celebration before going asleep ….

"Oh god, what time izzit … aargh!" Right. It was the first day of the New Year. The new millenium too. Which meant Monica and Ross visiting their parents and of course now that they were married and engaged to be married he had to come too – wait, what?

Married? Engaged?

Chandler raised his head a little, blinking as Monica turned on the bedside lamp, and with growing unease tried to connect the scraps and shreds of images and memories that flitted through his befuddled brain. Right. They'd celebrated on the roof, there had been candles and fireworks, he had danced with Monica and then proposed to her, given her a ring …

A ring? He'd given her a ring?

Chandler's eyes flew open at last and he grabbed at Monica just as she tried to get up from the bed.

"Let me see your hand!" When she just looked baffled he grinned even harder while he pulled her left hand to see if she still wore the ring. He seemed to remember her refusing to take it off, when they had gone to bed, and how she had kept looking at it even during their love-making. Except there was no ring on her finger. Her other hand was bare too, no matter how hard he stared at it.

"Chandler, what's the matter? Come on, we have to get up, Ross will be waiting!"

She had to be faking it, pretending nothing had happened to tease him. That must be it. Except that still didn't seem quite right.

"Sorry, it's just, I guess I overdid it last night."

Now she seemed even more puzzled. "But we didn't do all that much last night."

"What? But we were on the roof, and there were candles and fireworks…"

"On the roof?"

"Yeah. And we danced, and I – don't you remember?!"

Monica slowly shook her head. "But we were here all the time. We watched TV, remember?"

"Well yeah, you did, with Ross, but then you came up to the roof and –"

"No, we didn't. The roof is off limits, remember? Treeger would never let us have a party there."

"Oh. Right." Chandler flopped back on his pillow and closed his eyes. "I guess it was a dream."

And as he said it out loud, somehow asserting it, he could already feel the memories fading away in his mind, vanishing in the mist of oblivion. The only thing that lingered was the memory of feeling a vast relief over having put right something that had been wrong. Something about getting married in Las Vegas? But they hadn't gotten married there – not for lack of trying though, but they hadn't. They definitely hadn't. So there was no need to worry about it. Anymore.

"Must have been some dream." Monica smiled. "But tell me, why did you want to see my hand?"

Chandler looked at her smooth slim quite ringless hand while considering and rejecting random answers that suggested themselves to him. "Oh, your hand … uh, that was in the dream too, I read everybody's palms. You know, for the new millennium."

"Oh, that's so sweet! Do you remember what was in mine?"

Chandler took up her hand as if to examine it and then placed a kiss in her palm.

"No. But maybe I will, later." He smiled. "Sometime still this millennium, I'm sure."

.

.

.

A/N:

So it seems the muse didn't let me down this year either, for which I'm very grateful. Also many thanks are now in order to all the people who supported me here on this board - first of all CamilleH for betareading and approving when I was on the brink of losing faith in the story again, to Oldreruns for all his unending support and praise, to Fictionwriter95, LiannaH, MissRoxy87, Starbuckmeggie, Boris Yeltsin, Fafsernir, Simplymondler, Eldell, Chrisi2503, Soumi97, SpiralnebulaM31, Matteney, and all the other people who PMd, reviewed, or simply read my stories and did not lose patience with me. Thank you all and have a wonderful, exciting, creative, peaceful and above all HAPPY NEW YEAR 2020!