A/N: Mondler one-shot, sort of in honor of Christmas, with the snow and all. Hope you enjoy it, and please review. If you find that you like this Mondler story, I have some others out, so give them a read. Monica and Chandler are trying to conceal their relationship, as always ;)

Please Review! Tell me if you want more! What you didn't like!

­Snow Angel

"Uh, Monica, can you uh, pass the salt please?" Ross asked, giving a reach for it but missing by several inches.

Monica glowered at her older brother, wishing that his dark hair would sprout tentacles and cover his eyes so she could have Chandler all to herself. "Do I have to?" she asked, ignoring how childish her voice sounded.

Chandler squeezed her hand, a silent signal to stay cool. Ross was his best friend, and as much as he liked Monica, he didn't want the crap beaten out of him just yet… Ross could be quite intimidating when he wasn't trying to be.

She sighed, reluctantly letting go of Chandler's hand so she could pass the salt to Ross. Why the hell couldn't he have just reached over and got it himself? Ross nodded his thanks,

"So do you have any plans tonight? I was thinking we could all catch a-"

"Actually," Monica cut in, "I'm busy. Sorry." She had plans to meet up with Chandler, who was, by the way, sliding his hand inappropriately high up her thigh, which she normally wouldn't have minded, but given the party-

"Oh, what are you doing?"

Monica gritted her teeth, all the while trying to contain her grin from Chandler's touch. "I have dinner plans with a guy from the restaurant." She concentrated hard on her food – when did Chandler become so god-damn irresistible to her? His hand stopped its wandering for a moment.

"Guy?" he asked, "What guy?" Monica gave him a look and removed his hand. "What? A guy can't be curious to another guys crusades?"

"For your information, we're just having dinner. Strictly business."

"And would this business be dealt with… nude?"

The conversation would have been more interesting, if not for the company of her older brother. "Dude," Ross said, his food half-way to his mouth, "That's my sister."

"Sorry man," Chandler shrugged, taking another mouthful of Monica's stir-fry.

Ross nodded, the apology accepted, though the irony wasn't lost on Monica, Chandler's fingers wrapping once again around hers. "So how about you? You up for a movie?"

Chandler shook his head, "No thanks, I've planned a big night of lazing around the apartment-"

"Well, a movies going to be better then that!"

"-Watching porn. You're welcome to join me." Chandler smiled, and Monica stared at him, not sure whether the lie was funny, disgusting, or hot.

Ross held up his hands in a surrender motion, "No thanks, I'm good." He got up and put his plate in the sink, heading towards the bathroom.

"And that's how it's done," Chandler whispered, kissing Monica on the cheek discreetly before heading out the door with a half-skip. Monica laughed as he left, cleaning up after the meal.

-------------------------

Monica knocked on the door to Chandler and Joey's apartment, opening it when no one answered. "Chandler?" she called.

"Give me a minute!" he called from the bathroom, and she shut the door, sitting on one of the stools.

He came out less then thirty seconds later, dressed in his winter coat, a rather girlish scarf, and a bright pink beanie hat. "What do you think?" he asked, greeting Monica with a kiss.

"Really? It's a bit… girlish," she answered honestly, taking in the astonishingly feminine Chandler.

"You don't like it?" Chandler pouted. Monica shook her head and kissed him again.

"Well, good. Cause it's for you," he announced, smiling. He took the hat off and pulled it onto Monica's head, her hair sticking out of it stylishly. He took the scarf off as well, wrapping it delicately around her neck. "Look at how cute you look!" he squealed, then stopped himself. "Don't break up with me, I'm straight, I swear."

Monica laughed, but fingered the scarf doubtfully. "Do you really want me to wear this… for what we're gonna be doing?"

"Well," Chandler started, sitting on the lounger and pulling Monica on his lap, "I was thinking we could go on a nice, romantic walk down Central Park, then frolic around like a crazed moronic couple."

Monica played with the stray threads on the scarf Chandler had gotten her. "Did you take this from my closet?" she asked, looking closer at the familiar patterns and colors.

"So that's a yes on the walk?" Chandler asked quickly, lifting Monica up and getting her coat from the couch.

"So you just, raided my closet while I was in the bathroom?"

Chandler glanced at the coat in his hands and the scarf around his girlfriend's neck. "I bought the hat myself," he supplied.

"That's still pretty good," Monica nodded, slipping into the coat. They stopped at the door awkwardly.

"Y'know, I'm supposed to be watching porn tonight, so-…"

Monica nodded, understanding the technicality, "I'll check if anyone's out there."

They made it out of the building without any problems, only needing to dodge a roaming Treegar as they held a make-out session in front of Apartment 7. The New York air was cool and crisp, and Monica leaned into Chandler for warmth as they walked down the street, tactfully dodging Central Perk.

The first snow of the season had already been matted down into nothingness, a result from the numerous feet that tortured it endlessly. Chandler walked with Monica under his arm, huddled tightly together. A snowflake came down and landed on Monica's nose, sending a small chilled tickle down to her nerves. She shivered and wiped it away, "It's snowing!"

"My God! You have eyes!" Chandler laughed, and when she looked up to scold at him she saw that there were in fact millions of white dots swirling down to the ground. He noticed her annoyance, and instantly set out to reconcile.

"Ah, but what beautiful eyes they are," he smiled, "So clear and crystal. They're the shard of my heart betrothed to forever lay rest with you."

Monica thought about it for a moment before saying, "That doesn't make sense-"

"You don't make sense," was Chandler's quick comeback.

Monica stared at him for a second before shaking her head, but her frustration quickly abated. Chandler was childish, but she loved every one of his odd remarks, the ones that probably didn't make sense to anyone other then himself. "I never took you for an eyes kind of guy," she commented, and they turned the corner, New York's most famous park coming into view.

"Most people don't." He sighed, "No one's really bothered to find out I guess."

"Your eyes are really pretty too," Monica added after a second, and Chandler laughed at her,

"You're just saying that."

"Yeah," she admitted, twisting up her face and Chandler nodded knowingly. "But I love your hands. How they fit so perfectly with mine," he raised his eyebrows, grinning, "How they keep me warm in the cold," he looked down to see that in fact his hand had slipped subconsciously into Monica's cold hands, his finger making abstract circles on base of Monica's thumb "and how they play with my fingers when their bored or restless."

He lifted up her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently, mimicking her earlier comment, "I never took you for a hand sort of girl."

They'd gotten into Central Park now, and had stopped walking; standing now under a light, snow accumulating in their hair and clothing, holding hands. "Most people don't," she said quietly, everything but Chandler and the trees fading from view. Brad Pitt could have walked by her and she wouldn't notice. Chandler looked into her eyes and she saw the warmth and love radiating from them, hoping that Chandler could see the same in hers. She devoured his eyes, his presence, and the hot touch of his oddly warm hands. They smiled at each other for a second before leaning in for a tender kiss. Chandlers hands untangled from Monica's and wrapped around her waist, getting as close as possible to her body.

Monica pulled away within seconds, an evil idea popping into her head. She kissed him on the cheek before slipping away from his grasp, the moment broken.

Chandler snapped out of his trance, adjusting his coat. The moment had gotten him rather worked up, and his coat was retaining the heat from his body so well that he felt himself start to sweat. He tore his eyes away from his girlfriend, looking around the empty path hastily for someone he knew, or that could recognize him, not looking when Monica bent down and packed a handful of snow into her hands. "Monica?" he asked a split second before a white pelt flew at his face, exploding and covering his entire face with cold, freshly packed snow.

"Gotcha!" Monica giggled, and Chandler wiped off the snow from his eyes, drying his face with the edge of his coat sleeve, giving Monica a surprised look stared at her,

"Well, that was mean," Chandler stated, his face slowly turning numb, Monica's giggle escalating.

"Common," she teased, backing away as Chandler took a looming step forwards, meant to intimidate her, "it was fun!"

Chandler shook his head, faking anger, "You call a face full of snow fun?" he asked, no more then four feet away from Monica.

Monica smiled, backing around a tree and keeping it between her and Chandler. "Common you wuss!" she taunted, "Suck it up!" she stuck out her tongue at him.

Her attitude surprised him; usually he was the one acting like a kid. "So now your calling me names?" he asked puzzled and more then confused.

"No… Not unless you're afraid to lose!"

Chandler held back a laugh, making himself pout. "You don't play nice," he stated somberly, and made to turn around, "I'm going to go back to the coffee house." He saw Monica's face fall at his words, and he turned his back to her, finally letting a smile slip out.

He could hear Monica behind him trying to apologize, "Chandler, I didn't mean it!" she whined, and once he felt her hand brush his back he spun around, pinning her arms to her side in a bear hug.

"Chandler!" she shrieked, laughing, squirming to get free. Chandler lifted her off the ground, kissing her nose playfully before raising her over his head. "Chandler, let go!" she squealed, and Chandler shook his head.

"I wasn't kidding about the not playing nice thing Mon," he said, and she stopped moving, looking down at him curiously.

"Really?" she asked doubtfully, and Chandler nodded,

"Really, really," he repeated, and Monica laughed. "And because you were so mean to me…" he trailed off, and Monica saw the glint in his eye that told her he was going to do something he'd think was funny.

Chandler lowered her to the ground and the second she got her feet planted instead wrapped his arms around her waist. "… Chandler!" she warned a split second before he pushed her to the ground, and she landed on the fluffy snow. "Chandler!" she warned again, this time in a higher pitch as Chandler pinned her arms down and took a rather large amount of snow into his hands.

Monica struggled to get free from his weight, knowing what was next. She was usually stronger then him, but for some reason she couldn't get free from him now. Chandler grinned evilly, and she managed to get out – "Chandler, don't you dare!" before her eyes automatically shut tight, icy slush exploding over her face.

"Gotcha!" she heard Chandlers mocking declaration, his weight instantly lifting off of her, leaving her free to use her hands to wipe the snow off her face. It had already begun to numb, and when she opened her eyes and wiped them of melted snow, she saw that Chandler already had some distance between them.

She stood up, brushing the snow calmly off her coat, taking her hat off and dusting it off. When she looked up Chandler was watching her, confusion evident on his face. From his expression, Monica gathered it hadn't been the reaction that he had foretold.

"Oh, uh," she said, answering the unasked question, "I think I'm going to kill you," she stated. Chandler stared at her for a second, a dopey smile on his face. It quickly changed as Monica charged at him, and he took a couple steps back before turning on his heel and scrambling to gain his balance and get out of there; but the damage was already done. Monica gained on him within the minute, and he screamed,

"I didn't mean it!" as she tackled him to the ground, wrapping her arms around his neck as she jumped on his back, the extra weight and his uneven run sending both of them to the ground. He scrambled in a panic, and Monica laughed lightly as she took a fist full of snow and shoved it determined down his back.

"Gah!" Chandler cried, and Monica got off his back, her deed done. She scrambled away, laughing as Chandler's face twisted as the cold snow melted quickly against his warm skin. "That's cold!" he yelped, squirming and pressing his back against the snow in an attempt to remove it. It only took him a few seconds to get over the shock, then he was back on his feet, laughing despite himself. Their positions switched, Monica running as fast as she could away from Chandler, who was issuing threats.

Monica had the advantage over Chandler, her competitive nature taking over as she powered across the park, snow flying up behind her. She took step after step, firmly planting her feet on the ground and propelling herself on. She looked behind her, Chandler breathing hard and slowly, slowed down. She considered stopping and lecturing him about the affects of smoking, but didn't get the opportunity, her feet slipping out from behind her.

By the time she had landed and gotten over the initial shock, Chandler reached her side, concern glowing in his eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, helping her up and holding her in a sitting position.

She couldn't help but laugh, "I'm fine." She'd slipped on a sheet of ice, but luckily had landed in the pile of snow that had been previously shoveled off the main pathway. Her laugh was infectious, and soon Chandler was laughing as well, lifting her up in his arms, carrying her away from the obscuring snow.

"This is fun," Monica said softly as Chandler put her down, and her feet landed in snow. She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulders. She could feel Chandler's head bouncing the characteristic way he usually did, taking into consideration what she'd just said. She slid her butt down, pulling Chandler to the ground with her.

"In a… childish sort of way- yeah," he agreed, kissing the top of her hat as she snuggled up closely to him. Monica melted into Chandler's comfortable frame, his felt jacket making a perfect pillow, the majority of her body positioned on him, away from the snow. Chandler's arm rested on her stomach, wrapping around her waist, and she looked up at the sky, a rare sparkle appearing on the otherwise blank black canvas.

"I can see a star," she said with a smile, and Chandler's hand found hers, and his fingers pushed between hers, his shockingly warm hands working their magic and restoring feeling to her fingertips. "I wish there were more out; they're so beautiful."

"You are…" Chandlers airy voice murmured, his thumb tracing patterns on the crevasse between her finger and thumb.

Monica's thoughts halted, something in Chandlers agreement missing. "What?" she asked.

"What?" Chandler asked back, panicked. Maybe she didn't hear it. Maybe she thought he said something else. His thumb stopped its movement. "Did you say something?" he asked feigning curiosity.

"Didn't you just say-"

"I'm not crazy," Chandler laughed nervously, cutting her off. The words had just come out; he had had no control over his mouth. "Or have a one-tracked mind," he added quickly, not wanting Monica to think he was only after one thing like Joey. Monica shifted her body, and he cringed. He'd done it again, said the wrong thing at the wrong time… hopefully she could see that his intentions were good.

His nerves were spared when Monica turned around to face him face to face, smiling. "Thank-you," she whispered, and he knew she had heard what he said. She kissed him lightly on the lips, and Chandler's smile mirrored hers when she withdrew,

"Anytime," he shrugged. He wrapped his arms around Monica, squeezing her tightly. How did he not notice that she was the one thing that had been missing from his life? His feelings for her were getting stronger everyday and he was amazed that he was able to keep from devouring her in front of their friends; he didn't ever want her to leave.

Chandler rested his head in the snow, staring up at Monica. Her thick, dark, beautiful hair was sticking adorably out of her skewed beanie hat awkwardly, light snowflakes swirling around her head to create a halo like shimmer of white; her crystal blue eyes were radiating with the warmth and love of their newly-kindled romance, and Chandler knew that he had never felt this way with another woman.

Monica was his savior, his guardian in life. He couldn't imagine living without her, and in the years to come, he would never be able to remember a time that Monica looked more like an angel to him.