A/N Another potential missing scene for you. Hopefully it is still canon. Rating is for sexual references. Enjoy!

Boyfriend material

Monica couldn't sleep. That damn cold of Phoebe's was keeping her awake. Cough, cough, sneeze, cough. Eventually she just gave up and removed herself from her bed back onto the sofa where she had spent the majority of her day. She hated being up when the rest of the world, or even just Rachel, was asleep. It felt lonely, and she had quite enough things to feel lonely about if she chose without adding sleep deprivation inspired ones. Drowning it out seemed like the best option.

She was still stood holding a copy of 'It's a wonderful life' in one hand and 'Notting Hill' in the other, contemplating which would lull her off to sleep in the most pleasant way, when a very small knock came at the door.

She had never seen Chandler looking so dejected. He too had clearly not slept, his hair messed up adorably and a pillow clutched to his chest.

"Can I sleep on your sofa tonight?" he asked quietly, tone pleading. Without hesitation Monica slipped an arm around him comfortingly and led him further into the room.

"You can join me," she murmured, indicating the blanket strewn sofa and video choices. "Tough night huh?"

He visibly flinched, "You could say." He looked around the carnage wrought in the 'cold-zone' she had been lying in. "You too by the looks of it."

Monica gave an embarrassed grimace and began to scoop up dirty tissues into the bin. "I swear I'm only this messy when I'm ill..."

Chandler just shrugged and dropped dejectedly on top of her makeshift bed, still clutching the pillow tight to his chest. "Don't need to explain," he muttered. "At least I can't hear them having sex over here." He flinched again, screwing up his eyes and adding in a pained voice, "Only the knowledge that they are at this second can torture me now."

Monica dropped the bin on the floor and slotted herself next to him on the sofa.

"Aww sweetie," her arms went around him, in the same way his had around her many times before, as he dropped his head into his hands.

"Why am I such a terrible person? Why can't I just get over her?" he mumbled into his hand and Monica rested her head on his shoulder. "I just can't stop thinking about her, you know?"

"I know." She rubbed his back sadly. "I know."

"Maybe you were right."

"About what?" she replied puzzled.

"Last two men on earth and Joey would get picked every time."

She let go of him like he had scalded her. "Now you can cut that out." Her voice was sharp as glass...or would have been if it hadn't come out as a croak. Chandler rose his head shocked and she glared at him. "Don't compare yourself to Joey! You two are completely different guys."

Chandler frowned sullenly, "Well duh. He's the one who has all the girls. Any girl. Any girl he wants. Even the one I want..."

"Will you stop." Monica was on her feet now, voice heated and blanket still draped over her shoulders; illness momentarily forgotten. "He's your best friend. What you are doing now isn't fair."

Chandler had also gotten to his feet. "It's true though isn't it? Admit it," he pointed at her, voice also raised. "Given the choice between us you'd rather be with Joey too."

"I didn't choose, remember?" He was making her angry now.

"Oh," his voice was sarcastic, "so you're saying that if you had to choose now, last two men on earth..."

"I would choose you, you moron!" she smacked him in the shoulder with her palm. There was a momentary look of total shock on his face before it was replaced with his trademark cute smile.

"Really?" and just like that her anger was gone.

Monica sighed and her gaze softened. She placed a hand more gently on his shoulder. "Really."

"Even though I'm the guy that peed on you?"

The memory still weirded her out and she had to resolutely shove it back in the locked box of repressed memories.

"Maybe partly because of it," she admitted, because he'd come through for her in her pain despite the cost, "but this whole self-pity thing?" she added with raised eyebrows, "total turn off."

Chandler was still smiling at her. "Thanks."

She waited for the stupid, immature remarks about her digging the 'Chan-Chan Man' but none came. Guess the whole Kathy thing really had hit him hard.

"Not a problem," she smiled back and picked up the two videos. "Now, Hugh Grant or James Stewart?"

"Oh, Hugh Grant," Chandler put on his girly voice as he sat back down, "he's dreamy."

Monica threw him an unimpressed look but put the film on and settled back on the sofa next to him.

"It will get better you know," she told him quietly, noticing how the momentary distraction had worn off and once again his shoulders had slumped. "Either you'll get over her or they'll break up and you'll never have to see her again."

Chandler shook his head. "Why do both of those options suck?"

Monica didn't reply, merely tucked the blanket around them both and settled back with him to watch the film.

Of the times Monica had woken up with a boy this was one of the strangest.

She didn't know who had fallen asleep first but she was the first to wake. Her arms were still draped over Chandler from the night before. At some point they must've tucked up in the corner of the sofa. She watched him for a little while. He looked so peaceful, the lines of sadness gone in his sleep. With a small smile she brushed her hand lightly through his hair. Chandler stirred and she felt a jolt of revelation through her. She really didn't want him to smell her cold induced morning breath. The thought took her off guard. Since when had that kind of thing mattered to her with her friends? Monica felt her thoughts go into overdrive. Had she actually been in this situation with a friend before? She looked down again at Chandler. There was an affectionate warmth for him in her chest that she suddenly realised she didn't want to examine too closely. She also didn't want to examine too closely how she felt about his body warming hers and how actually they were both wearing only thin pyjamas. That thought unexpectedly sent hot tingles to particular parts of her body and she quite rapidly disentangled herself and got up.

"I really need to get a boyfriend," she whispered to herself, retreating to the bedroom and pulling on her dressing gown before freshening up quickly in the bathroom.

Chandler was stirring when she wandered back in and sleepily blinked at her. His face fell with a groan and he rubbed a hand over it.

"I thought for a minute that you were Kathy."

That stung for some reason.

"Yeah well, good thing I ain't otherwise you'd be stammering excuses for waking up with another woman."

Chandler sat bolt up, eyes wide, hair wild.

"What?"

He looked so adorably terrified that the annoyance melted away. She took pity on him and smiled.

"Relax," she wandered over and ruffed his hair. "We just fell asleep on the couch." He dropped back down in relief and tugged a blanket over his head.

"What time is it?"

Oh...she hadn't checked the time.

"Erm..." she found a clock and flinched, "sevenish?" Her tone gave it away. Chandler peeked out from under the blankets suspiciously.

"How sevenish?"

Monica mumbled something that sounded like five forty five under her breath and Chandler groaned, shutting his eyes.

"Do you think it's safe to go back over there?"

"Not unless you're happy to hear the morning wake up sex," she replied as gently as she could.

He put a pillow over his head, the muffled strains of "why, why, why?" meeting her ears.

"How about breakfast instead?" She moved over to the kitchen to fill up the kettle.

"My, aren't we getting a little domestic."

She cast a look at him over her shoulder. He was sat up on the sofa now, pillow discarded, chin resting on the back. His eyes gleamed mischievously and she knew she was in trouble.

"I'm just making coffee," she replied matter-of-factly running the water.

"After we spent the night together."

She dropped the kettle onto its stand and snapped the switch on before turning and fixing him with a glare. His head was laid horizontally on the sofa back, pouting.

"Guess I could be your boyfriend after all."

She gestured back at the door. "I thought you loved Kathy."

The infuriating man jumped to his feet, shedding blankets. "Just keeping my options open," he smirked, "just in case the opportunity arises."

She dropped her eyes to his trousers and smirked back.

"Well something is certainly arising."

Chandler glanced down before calmly picking up a blanket and draping it around him again. The only sign of his embarrassment was the red flush creeping up his neck.

"Better go get that sorted out boyfriend."

Chandler, behind the safety of his blankets now, raised an eyebrow at her.

"Liked what you saw, huh?"

Now she was slightly flustered. "Get out of here Chandler."

He grinned and danced his way to the bathroom. Once he was out of the room she took a deep steadying breath. Those pyjamas had certainly been thin and he was right, she had very much liked what she saw. That scared her, a lot.

When Chandler re-emerged a few minutes later Monica had regained control and had poured coffee.

"Here," she handed it over and he took it soberly. The sadness was back in his eyes.

"Thanks. I'm going to take my chances and head back over." He looked warily at the door as they wandered over to it. "Thanks Monica. For last night. For the distraction."

"Any time," she smiled back and gave him a hug.

It was a good hug and she was reluctant to break it but pulled away and let him go.

Half out the door Chandler paused dramatically.

"We should do this again some time. I'll call you."

She whacked him lightly on the shoulder and pushed him out, shutting the door behind him.

He'd just reached his own flat when the door opened again and he glanced back to find her there, looking at him in a way that he didn't recognise as her.

"Just for the record, if we had spent the night together, you would totally call me?"

The smile on his face was genuine and his voice serious when he replied.

"I wouldn't dare not."