A/N So I know that this concept was covered in 'The one with the truth about London' but I had already written this version and I hope it works okay as a potential AU. Enjoy.

How it might have happened...

Chandler opened the door to his room as slowly and cautiously as he could, trying not to startle the woman standing precariously next to him.

"Looks like Joey hooked up with that Bridesmaid," he commented wryly, flicking on the light switch to an empty room. He realised it was the wrong thing to say as a choked voice behind him muttered, "Well that's just great. I'm happy for him. Hey, maybe they'll even get married." Her voice rose an octave higher till it was almost a screech. "Then I can be mistaken for his mother too!"

He quickly gripped her shoulders and steered her into the room, snapping the door shut behind them before her voice woke the whole floor.

"Monica, you need to calm down." Wrong thing again.

"Calm down!"

He flinched back and let go of her shoulders.

"Yes," he said very quietly, soothingly. "You don't want to make another scene, do you?"

He looked at her questioningly and she seemed to almost visibly deflate. Her shoulders sagged and he body crumpled onto the bed.

"No."

"No." Cautiously he approached and sat down next to her, starting to rub soothing circles on her back.

"The waiter had what was coming to him though," her eyes flashed to him with a spark of anger and he couldn't help but find it more than a little attractive.

"Absolutely," he agreed, this time because he actually did.

"I'm not drunk," her tone was defensive, her eyes begging him to believe her, to understand, and it surprised him that for once he did.

"You are a little bit drunk, but," he continued quickly before she could protest, and moved his arm to embrace her shoulders, "but so am I. You had a nasty shock. It's only natural that you would be angry and upset. That's why we're up here and not downstairs where there are people."

"Away from my mother?" she added bitterly and he squeezed her arm lightly in response. "Thank you for getting me out of there before I did something stupid."

"No problem," he smiled his genuine Chandler beam, which she had always found to be very attractive, in an objective way only of course, and kissed her forehead.

Her eyes dropped to her hands again.

"It's so hard," she barely whispered, "trying to stay positive for this thing I really, really want, when my mother knocks me down each time."

Chandler rested his head against hers, side by side, and ran his hand up and down a few times before coming to a decision.

"Monica," she turned until her eyes met his and he gazed into them earnestly. "You are beautiful. You are wonderful. You have a good heart. You are crazy. You are sexy. You will find someone who sees all those things in you and loves you for them. Like I do."

Her eyes got all watery like she would cry, which really hadn't been what he'd been going for, but the smile that broke out onto her face was like sunshine. It lit her up.

"Really?"

"Well...not exactly like I do..." he amended quickly, "but yeah...really..."

Her arms wrapped around him and he enclosed her in the hug, her face pressed into his chest.

They sat together for a moment in silence, breathing in and out, matching breaths together. Warm, soft, comforting,

"Why can't I just marry someone like you?" she murmured wistfully into his shirt, the vibrations echoing through him...and then she stilled. Her head lifted sharply to look at him and he felt an unexpected jolt of trepidation at her expression.

"I'm not going to like this am I?"

Her eyes were wide, a smile stretched on her face with giddy, childish excitement. "We could get married!"

Chandler grimaced, "I knew I wouldn't like it."

"No, no, no, see," she placed her hands on his chest, "it would be perfect, I mean, we already get along really well. We already know each other's bad habits. It would be great...you know?" Her voice softened, pleading and Chandler smiled down at her, his hands lifting to stroke her shoulders.

"Monica, you must know how crazy this sounds. Being together isn't the same as being friends. There are other things to consider like...I dunno..." he paused and struggled, "...physical attraction. I mean you and I have never even kiss..."

Her lips touched his, cutting off his words. They lingered, savoured and then withdrew.

"That was...erm..." he murmured, dazed and she regarded him through half shut eyes. A beat passed and as if they had an unspoken signal they crashed together again. Fingers running over clothes and tangling in hair as their breath mingled in a hot haze of attraction.

"Nice..." he gasped as they drew breath. "I was going to say nice."

"Uh huh," Monica responded with an urgency, her fingers already moving to his tie. His hands captured hers and held her steady for a moment, his eyes making sure they met her own.

"Maybe I'm going to kick myself for saying this, but are you sure?"

Monica turned her hands so they enclosed his own and smiled.

"Is this why you never get laid?" she teased lightly and her hand slipped from his, resting on his cheek. "Yes, I'm sure." The relief surprised him as he realised how disappointed he'd have been if she'd said no. The thought was swept away again by her kiss.

"And it doesn't mean we're going to get married," she added.

"Thank God," Chandler exhaled.

"You remember what I taught you?" she whispered as her fingers flew over his shirt buttons, tugging them open, and his mind went back to that day in her apartment when she explained about erogenous zones.

"Oh yeah," he smiled and the warmth in his eyes sent heat though her as she pulled him in for another kiss. "I remember." He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her deep. "You are going to enjoy this."