The plane ride back from England was uncomfortable to say the least. Joey and Chandler were sitting across the aisle from you and Monica, which, by itself, wasn't bad. It got bad when you added the backstory of last night. Every time you looked over at them and caught Chandler staring, he would immediately drop is gaze or look back at Joey. Monica could sense that something was wrong with you, but after a short "I'm fine," from you, she left it alone.

"How do you think Ross is going to come back from this one?" you asked Monica, attempting to get your mind off last night.

"Yeah, I don't know how you're supposed to bounce back from saying the wrong name at the altar. Especially an old girlfriend's," Monica answered.

"This is gonna be rough. But…well, they have only known each other for a couple months. I think you should wait a bit longer to get married – at least a year," you said.

"I know what you mean. But, then again, it's Ross," she laughed.

You made small talk with Monica for as long as you could, all the while looking over her shoulder at Chandler, before you finally faked being tired stared despondently out the window. When the plane finally landed, you and Monica took a separate cab from the boys and headed back to the apartment. Phoebe gave you a pregnant bear hug as soon as you walked in the door, but you gave her the tired, jetlag excuse to escape to Rachel's room. Soon enough, Phoebe gently knocked on the door, cracking it open before coming to sit by you on the bed.

"What's wrong honey?" she asked gently, running a hand through your hair. You gazed up at the ceiling, your eyes stinging painfully with unshed tears.

"I think I screwed up, Pheebs," you told her. She had been your best friend for years, and you trusted her more than anyone else in the apartment.

"Think?" she quietly prodded.

"I slept with Chandler."

Her hand immediately ceased movement on your head. "What?"

"Oh, Phoebe, it was amazing," you breathed. "I had no idea…but the next morning, he-he acted like it didn't matter to him one way or another. It's like how you expect Joey would act, and I – after everything…Phoebe, that's not how I wanted it to go. I mean, I wasn't drunk, but I was tipsy and not thinking clearly and – oh, God, Phoebe, what if this is it? What if I don't get another shot at this? At him?"

"Oh my God," she breathed. "Stay here."

"Phoebe, what–" you moved to get up.

"No, stay here," she said firmly, rage flaming in her eyes.

Phoebe slammed the door behind herself, storming over to the kitchen table. "Uh oh," Chandler muttered before the enraged woman's fist slammed into his jaw.

"Phoebe!" Monica exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

Phoebe dragged him by his ear out into the hallway, away from the other two, slamming the door behind her.

"Chandler Bing, what were you thinking?!" she screamed.

"Oh my God, woman!" he rubbed his jaw. "What did I do?"

"What did you do? What did you do?! You slept with my best friend who's had a secret crush on you for years but won't do anything because she doesn't have the guts! She is the kindest, most beautiful person I've ever met, and you treated her like crap the next morning!" she screamed. "What is wrong with you?! I thought I knew – I thought you were better than this. Even Joey wouldn't stoop this low."

Chandler ran a hand over his face. "Phoebe, I," he hesitated, "look, I never knew I felt this way about her. Last night just kind of happened, and this morning…I didn't know how to deal with it, so I didn't. I…God, what do I do to fix this?"

"Fix this? Fix this?! God, Chandler, you can't fix this! She was a virgin! You meant the world to her, and you go and do that!"

He laughed nervously, "What? N-no."

"Yes, you asshole. Now find a way to fix this, or so help me God…" she trailed off, giving him one last glare before going back inside the apartment and slamming the door in his face. Monica and Joey were sitting awkwardly at the table, attempting to look inconspicuous like they hadn't just been eavesdropping.

Phoebe ignored them, instead walking back into Rachel's room to comfort you. As soon as the door closed, Joey was immediately outside in the hallway looking for Chandler. He was slumped against the wall, looking shell-shocked when Monica and Joey saw him. "Joe…" he muttered. "Joe."

"I know, I know. We heard. It's gonna be okay, man," Joey attempted to console him.

"No. No, it's not. What the hell did I do?"

Joey and Monica shared a glance. What could you say to that?

It was two thirty the next morning when you finally decided to venture out of Rachel's room to find something to eat; you couldn't help but stare at the view that greeted you. Every surface of the apartment was covered in half melted candles, and Chandler was sitting on the couch. Well…slouching. He had fallen asleep while waiting for you to emerge. A small smile graced your face as you gazed down on him. He was so peaceful when he slept, not teasing anyone or worrying about inconsequential things. You sighed, walking into the kitchen area and carefully opened the refrigerator. Your favorite pudding was on the top shelf, and you sat down at the kitchen table with your comfort food. A small groan came from the couch before you heard a quiet shuffling. Chandler's bedhead popped up in front of the couch, and you attempted to suppress a smile at how adorable it was. Then you remembered that last time you saw his bedhead and had absolutely no problem dropping the smile.

He dropped his head in his hands and moaned something before slowly getting to his feet. As he turned around, his wide eyes met yours. "(Y/N)," he breathed.

You smiled at him, which seemed to break some sort of spell because he was immediately at your side, wrapping you in a warm embrace. He could feel you tense beneath him, hesitating, before tentatively wrapping your arms around his waist, returning the gesture.

"I'm so sorry," he muttered into your hair. "Your first time is supposed to be special. With someone you love. And I went and screwed it up," his voice was full of venom.

You squeezed him with more confidence. "You did not screw it up, Chandler. That was the best night of my life. I just…I don't understand the way you were acting in the morning."

He bowed his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel something wet roll down your back. "I-I thought…I just don't know what I'm doing. With this. With you." You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…I love you, (Y/N Y/L/N), but you deserve someone so much better than me."

"No, Chandler," you replied, voice soft. "I don't want anyone better. I want you."

He tightened his grip around you, and you could feel him crying into your shoulder. "I'm sorry. I promise, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that's what it takes."

"It's okay, Chan. Really," you ran your hand through his hair and felt him shudder. "Just, please…just talk to me the next time you're confused or something. I-I thought you…you hated me or something."

"Never," he muttered. "Never. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Chan, you should get some sleep."

"Don't want to let you go," he refused to move.

"Come on. Rachel's not going to be back for a while, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you crashed here."

He sighed heavily before finally letting go of you. "Come on," you led him by the hand back to your friend's room. You sighed contentedly as you fell asleep in his arms that night, and it was the best rest you've gotten in a long time.