TOW The Girl in the Red Skirt

A/N - this was suggested by the wonderful Matteney a long long time ago. It's not quite how I pictured it…and probably not at all how she pictured it either! But it was a nice break from a longer fic I'm writing. This is pure silly, premondler flirting. It will probably stay a oneshot but it's possible I'll do a second chapter. I'll see what you guys think...

It's set during TOW Chandler can't remember which sister.

"The girl in the red skirt," Chandler exclaimed. "I definitely stuck my tongue down her throat!"

Monica almost cringed. Part of her had hoped he wouldn't have remembered that...yet, another part of her was kinda pleased he had; she certainly remembered it. Every little detail.

"That was me," she confessed, deciding to come clean, though more than a little embarrassed.

His concerned eyes swung onto hers, blue meeting blue. She watched his face closely, watching as he processed his fuzzy vague images. She could tell the exact second they became sharp and focused.

He swallowed.

She swallowed.

Oh, drat.

~/flashback/~

Monica grabbed the garbage bags as she headed out of the apartment. The party was still in progress but it was dwindling somewhat. Now seemed to be the perfect opportunity to get a head start on the cleaning. Sure, it may not be her party, her apartment or even her mess, but if she left it to the boys, it would probably stay in that state until Joey's next birthday... she shuddered at the mere thought.

After sending the trash bags down the shoot she left the small room and blinked in surprise at seeing Chandler propped up against the landing wall. A very drunk Chandler with a confused frown on his face; this could be interesting…

"Hey," she flashed him a smile, she liked drunk Chandler…just didn't like why he was drunk. "Where have you been? We haven't seen you since you opened all of Joey's presents; thanks for that by the way."

"How come you're still wearing your shirt?" he asked, ignoring her question entirely.

Huh.

"Because, honey, it's not that kinda party," she grinned somewhat playfully. The things she let him get away with.

"But we had a deal!" he whined pathetically. "I stuck my tongue out so you have to take your shirt off."

"It wasn't a trade," Monica informed him, "and I'm not taking my top off."

Chandler pouted, his lower lip sticking out and his blue puppy-dog eyes pleading. He looked kinda adorable. Almost. If she let herself think of him like that. Which she didn't. Nope. Not at all.

"God, just how drunk are you?" she laughed.

"Only a little," he lied as he continued to pout, "you're really gonna keep that shirt on?"

"Yes!" She laughed again, whacking his chest lightly, "Would you quit it? It wasn't a bet, a deal or a challenge, so it's staying on."

She watched as his pout slowly turned into a grin, a knowing glint appearing in his eyes. What was he up to…?

"In that case I challenge you to take your shirt off," he quipped smugly, knowing first-hand how competitive she was, "and that red skirt, which by the way is waaaaaay too long. You should wear shorter ones."

He tried to wiggle his eyebrows. He failed miserably.

"It's a good job for you that I'm sober enough to resist the challenge and know you well enough that I'm not easily offended," she informed him, trying not to smile.

If it were any other man she would have taken great pleasure in kicking him in the family jewels by now. But as it was Chandler it was almost cute. Almost.

"Come on," he tried again and Monica shook her head adamantly.

"Not happening, Bing," she insisted, turning to head back to the party.

As she went to move past him, his hand shot out and grabbed her arm. She was almost impressed with his accuracy, given the amount of alcohol that must to be flooding his bloodstream right now. She paused, lifting her head and raising a questioning eyebrow at him as she met his eyes.

"How about a compromise?" Chandler suggested.

His voice was a little husky. His fingers still firmly gripped her arm. His eyes were so easy to get lost in, especially this close.

She swallowed. Hard.

"D-depends what you-" she was cut off as his lips crashed onto hers.

Stunned for a moment she didn't respond. Couldn't. She was too shocked. Chandler was kissing her; Chandler. She let his lips caress hers as she just stood there. Then, as the kiss became probing she finally gave into the sensations. She closed her eyes, starting to kiss back passionately as she enjoyed the feel of him. Her lips parted allowing him access and she couldn't help but let out a little groan of approval as he explored her mouth.

She felt him let go of her arm and then moments later she was pulled up hard against his body as she melted into the kiss. As his arms tightened around her waist she brought her hands up to grab the back of his head, holding him in place as she kissed harder. She was getting completely lost in the feelings he was evoking in her.

God, the man knew how to kiss. She hadn't been kissed like this for so long and it felt incredible. She didn't want it to end; she could happily do this forever.

Suddenly, the sound of a door slamming jerked them apart and hurriedly they separated. Still breathing heavily and looking somewhat flustered, they bid the random party goer a goodnight as he obliviously passed.

"That's, uh, some compromise," she finally swallowed, stepping back further to put more distance between them as she tried to catch her breath.

She could feel herself blushing.

"Yeah."

She risked a look at him, his tone sounded anything but shocked or apologetic. He actually looked mightily pleased with himself.

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then with a shake of her head and a coy smile she turned, starting to walk away.

"Mon?" he called softly and she turned back to look at him. "I'll admit I may be a little hammered and I may have kissed a few people tonight, but you're definitely the best one. Easily."

She fought the blush from coming back.

"Thanks," she teased, "you're my best kiss tonight too."

He grinned proudly and she decided not to burst his bubble and confess he was her only kiss of the night. Hell, her only kiss for a while.

"No, I mean it," he grinned dopily, throwing an arm around her shoulders. His lips close to her ear as he whispered, "you're my absolute favorite person. Ya know that right?"

She swallowed, trying not to let his presence affect her, trying to ignore the goosebumps that prickled her skin. It was crazy. It was Chandler. A drunken Chandler at that. He shouldn't give her goosebumps.

"You're my favorite too," she finally promised with a little smile. "Even if you aren't gonna remember any of this in the morning."

"Oh but I will," he promised but she shook her head and just rolled her eyes.

"Unlikely."

~/ End of flashback/~

"Look," Chandler started apologetically, "when I've been drinking, sometimes I tend to get overly friendly…and I'm sorry," he winced.

"That's okay," she said quickly, fighting the warmth rising on her cheeks at the memory.

Monica reached out a hand to touch his arm in what was meant to be a friendly, reassuring gesture. She pulled it back instantly as if burned as she felt the unexpected electricity crackle between them. She hadn't expected that. Even after the chemistry last night she still hadn't expected that. She risked shooting him a look; he seemed just as confused; had he felt it too?

Luckily, no one else seemed to notice their exchange, as Rachel and worryingly Ross also accepted his apology. How many people had he kissed last night? Had he kissed everyone the same way he had her? With that amount of passion and…umpfh?

No, she told herself firmly. Don't go there, Geller. He's your friend. He was drunk and it meant nothing. The guy kissed lots of people and could barely remember the kiss that had curled her toes. Besides, as soon as Joey heard about Chandler fooling around with one of his sisters Chandler was a dead man; there was no point getting too attached.

Shaking her head to try and clear her thoughts, Monica moved into the kitchen area and pulled open the fridge, trying to compose herself. When she closed it she was surprised to find Chandler was next to her, right next to her, lightly bumping his shoulders to hers.

She raised a questioning eyebrow at him, ignoring how close he was to her; ignoring how him being this close was affecting her. It was just a stupid drunken kiss. She swallowed as images of that kiss flashed through her mind. His lips, his body, that spark. Stop it. He was on a rebound from Janice. Now wasn't the time.

"Hey," he swallowed, seeming just as distracted as she was. "I really am sorry... I, uh, shouldn't have done that. Not with you."

"Don't be," she insisted, a little disappointed, "You were drunk, it's fine."

"How about next time you're drunk you get to kiss me," he offered cheekily, that gorgeous impish smile on his face and his blue eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Sounds fair," she pretended to shrug, "but I'm keeping my shirt on."

His smile widened in recognition, proving he remembered at least something from last night.

"Sounds fair," he mimicked back, "but my shirt being on is completely optional."

"Deal," she laughed as he smiled at her.

"We ok?" he asked softly.

"Sure," she agreed instantly, accepting a one armed hug.

"By the way," he murmured in her ear as they embraced "I meant what I said last night, you're my favorite."

She smiled in thanks, slightly embarrassed as he stepped away, "you too," she promised softly.

He smiled in acknowledgement at her before turning to walk away. She watched as he paused and turned back, meeting her questioning eyes almost hesitantly, as if he was having an internal debate with himself. She waited curiously to see what he was going to say.

"I was right, about something else last night," he said still quiet enough for the others not to overhear, a bright sparkle creeping into his baby blues. "You definitely need to ditch that skirt, it was waaaaay too long."

She froze, shocked at the blatant flirting, shocked at the warmth that shot through her and shocked that he must have really remembered more than he let on. She stared at him as he grinned and turned and left. Her eyes couldn't help but follow him as he headed over to where the gang were on the couch.

Before he took his seat, he looked over at her and smiled when he saw she was still staring at him. He offered her a cheeky wink as he sat down.

She swallowed, unsure by the sudden butterflies in her stomach, unsure how Chandler was the one to put them there. She continued to watch him a moment until Joey burst into the apartment and completely wrecked the mood. She winced as Joey started his tirade about his sister, finding it slightly ironic that Chandler had made out with both his best friend's sisters last night…but she was his favourite.

During Joey's long lecture Chandler's eyes found hers and held them. She smiled again. Now may not be the best time. He was still getting over his break up with Janice...and by the sounds of things he now had to dig his way out of marrying the Italian's sister.

But, as she took him in, his mussed bed-head hair, his pathetic odd socks, soft blue sweater which brought out those eyes, she thought...maybe.

Maybe one day.

Maybe one day real soon.

A/N- Just a shorty but I hope someone enjoyed it :o) Let me know your thoughts...