A/N:: Hello! Wow, thank you all so much for the lovely support on A Paper Moon- it really means the world to me. Well, here we go, the second fanfic I've written for FRIENDS! Pre-Mondler/Mondler-get-together fics are probably my favourite to write and read, they're so adorably perfect! This is AU, though fits in with the rest of the series quite nicely- an alternative to London (beginning in New York, and ending the night of Ross and Emily's wedding.) I've taken the title, and some lines from the song How High the Moon, by Ella Fitzgerald (which I don't own, obviously!). This was written whilst listening to Ella on repeat- go listen! It's great! Also don't own FRIENDS... just a little disclaimer. Without further ado, then, here's How High the Moon!

How High the Moon

"The darkest night would shine, if you would come to me soon. Until you will, how still my heart, how high the moon."

The setting sun cast long shadows over the city that never sleeps, inviting a slight chill into the air, and chasing away any lingering warmth from earlier that day. The woman on the balcony seemed impervious to the lowering temperature, or the closing night, instead, just sitting, as she had for the past hour, silent tears chasing each other down her cheeks. Tears that, come morning, she would never admit to having shed. If she admitted to the tears, Monica knew, then she would have to admit that maybe she wasn't impenetrable. She knew what path that would lead her down, and didn't want to take even a single step along it. And so, the tears fell, and she stared fixedly out, eyes slightly unfocussed, mind adrift.

"Hey." The word broke her from her reverie, and caused Monica to jump slightly- she hadn't heard Chandler approach, let alone open and begin to climb through the window to join her. Suddenly aware of the tears still tracking down her cheeks, Monica make an effort to discretely use her sleeve to wipe them away, despite being overly conscious of her burning eyes, that must, she thought, be bloodshot and red- a clear clue to the all of the crying she had done over the last hour.

Chandler shot her a rare, soft smile, the kind only reserved for her (and only sometimes, when it was just them). Her tremulous shot at a returning smile reminded her why she had been so glad to hear his voice tonight, instead of her other friends.

It wasn't that she didn't love them- on the contrary, her friends were the most important things in Monica's life (though without a boyfriend it was less of a competition than she would have liked)- but he was the only one Monica would comfortably allow to see her like this. After her break-up with Richard the prior year, Monica had been a mess- she was very aware of that fact. And whilst her friends had been there for her- fussing and clucking in the best, most amazing way possible, she couldn't help but be embarrassed- no, mortified- over the whole incident. She was Monica- the one who was supposed to have her life together. She helped them when they made a mess of their lives. It wasn't supposed to be the other way around!

Maybe it was just chance, but Chandler had always been the only person that Monica could cry to without feeling completely humiliated afterward, even when this wasn't the intention of whoever had been with her. She shook her head, snorting slightly. Especially then.

Chandler gently bumped his shoulder against hers, pulling her from her thoughts. When she glanced up at him, his blue eyes, darkened by the lateness of the hour, scanned her face, and, clearly coming to some conclusion, wrapped an arm around her, pulled her close to his chest, and began to talk, softly, into the night, about nothing in particular.

"Ross is at his apartment, on the phone with Emily- he left Central Perk about a half hour ago maybe? He was in a bit of a rush- rambled something about invitations, and uncles and egg… God knows what that's about!" Here he laughed softly, and Monica closed her eyes, allowing her mind to be distracted (as had been Chandler's aim). She buried her face into his shoulder, and in response, his arms tightened around her, one hand beginning to stroke rhythmically through her hair.

He continued to talk, and Monica smiled a little into his sweater, the vibration of his voice against his chest more calming than thirty bubble baths, or 'happy place' lectures could ever be, no matter how well intentioned. How was it that Chandler had known that this was exactly how to calm her- had always known, right from the day her and Kip broke up and she had sobbed herself to sleep in Chandler's arms on the sofa in the purple-walled apartment, whilst he rambled on about some dull work meeting?

"Rachel left not too long after- think she went to bed to sulk. Jesus, will those two ever sort themselves out- I mean Ross is getting married again for God's sake! It's like an eternal tennis match, or maybe one of those damn never-ending romance films you make us watch- you know 'will-they-won't-they'- I mean it's not like Ross is Hugh Grant or anything!"

Here he succeeded in eliciting a giggle into Monica. With a secret (rather triumphant) smirk at the moon, he continued; "Joey's got a date- that girl from Phoebe's Lamaze class who comes with her pregnant sister? And then Phoebe left- actually I don't know where she went, maybe back to her spacecraft, huh? And-"

Bracing her hands against Chandler's chest, Monica took a deep breath and interjected, finally having calmed her mind enough to explain. Only to Chandler.

"My Mom rang." It was only a whisper into the still bustling streets, but the balcony seemed to grasp those three words, and hang them in the night air, reverberating round and round, as Monica felt, rather than saw, Chandler's nod of having heard.

"It wasn't anything I haven't heard before- just the usual about my job, and not having a boyfriend, and how at least one child of hers is getting married -and isn't it wonderful?- and how I'm not getting any younger. It's stupid- I shouldn't be upset, I just-. Well, it's true isn't it? I'm a mess- she's disappointed in me. She loves Ross more than me." Monica let out a shaky breath, before admitting what she never had before. Not even to Chandler on any of their numerous late night talks akin to this one.

"Everyone prefers Ross to me."

Chandler tensed as her words tumbled out over each other into the night, a confession, a fear trapped in her mind for too long, singing round and around each time something happened to knock her confidence. Monica's eyes filled with tears again as she took this stillness as confirmation of what she already knew to be true.

"H-h-how can you think that?" Chandler's words were stuttered, as though recovering from a great shock, neither confirming nor denying her worst fear.

"Well, Rachel is in love with him- whether she admits it or not, Joey and him are always doing stuff, being 'bro's'" Monica listed, with a sarcastic huff, borrowing Joey's own phrasing from earlier that same day. "Phoebe doesn't think he's neurotic or obsessive, and you-"

"Don't finish that, Mon."

Monica looked up in surprise, taken aback at the intensity in his voice. It was hard to place, certainly not the comforting familiarity that she had come to expect on nights like this.

Chandler continued, still in that same tone, before she could conclude. "You and Rachel are best friends, no matter who she's in love with- that's never gonna change. Joey loves anyone who gives him food or even watches TV with him. Not just Ross. Yeah, Pheebs moved out, and that hurt you I know. But the fact that you're still friends? Well, I don't think that anyone else's friendship with her could survive that."

Monica risked a glance up into his eyes, which in the gathering dusk, she could barely make out. There was something there that she had never before seen, something that made her heart squeeze, and her veins fill with something warm. She felt safe. "And you?" It was a question that came with the sudden, rushing realisation that it was his opinion that she cared about most of all. It always had been.

With Chandler, Monica could be human. She could let her walls drop, let her guards slip, as he did the same. She loved him. She loved him. Huh. Monica let the thought run around her mind a couple of times, the idea less of a shock than expected. This wasn't just the comforting, familial love that all six of them shared, no. This wasn't just loving him. This was being in love with him. She was in love with Chandler. The thought didn't scare her as it had with previous relationships (not that this even was one- after all he didn't even feel the same for all she knew), rather it gave a name to the warmth in her veins, the wonderful, safe, comforting feeling of being around him. Love.

As she gazed upwards into his eyes, Monica thought perhaps on some level she had always known that this was how she felt. On nights like tonight, though, where the dusk stripped him of his usual sarcasm, and left them both just a little vulnerable, perhaps she dared to hope-

"Monica, you've been my favourite person in the whole damn world for almost a decade now. I could never, ever put anyone above you."

It wasn't a declaration of love unending, but from him, the commitment-phobic king of New York, it had just as much meaning to Monica. Unable to stop herself, Monica leaned up to press her lips to his. He froze in response, and her heart shattered into a million pieces as her life fell apart on a New York balcony at night. Her mind began to race- had she just made the worst mistake in the entire world? Was this friendship, the best, most important thing in her life over? Could she even survive such a loss- it would be worse than losing Richard, she knew, but-

Then the world restarted again, as his hand came up to cradle her cheek, one arms till wrapped around her, pulling her close against him. He returned her kiss with an unexpected tenderness that had her squirming to be closer to him, hands fisting in the sweater he wore. As the need to breathe slowly became a priority, they reluctantly parted, Monica resting her head in the dip between his neck and shoulder, Chandler pressing a kiss into her hair.

And suddenly the world had righted itself- it wasn't magic, nor a miracle, thought Monica, as she placed a soft kiss against Chandler's shoulder, and he squeezed her tighter against him. Perhaps it was just two people opening their eyes and seeing what had really been there all along. Maybe, it wasn't going to be perfect, her mother would still be her mother, and her insecurities would still be there, but that was alright. Monica didn't have to be strong all the time. She had Chandler.

A couple of weeks later, and many hundreds of miles away, and Monica found herself in the middle of another mess of a night. Ross had just potentially ended his second marriage before it had truly even begun, and was now pining outside of a bathroom door, with Joey and Rachel, hoping that Emily –his wife- would re-emerge. Phoebe was still in New York, her pregnancy preventing her from travelling to London with them. Slightly confused and concerned guests milled around, as the band played gentle songs, clearly aiming to ease the tension.

A hand caught in hers as a new song started, slow but with a slight swing to it. Before she has registered it, Chandler had pulled her onto the floor, joining other the couples swaying in time to the music. "But Ross-" Monica tried half-heartedly to protest, a large part of her enjoying this moment of just the two of them.

After that night, they had begun to date in secret, both agreeing that in the interests of taking it slow and trying to make it work, it was best that they had minimal interference from the rest of their group. And work it did- Monica could hardly believe that they had waited so long to do this, them. It felt so natural, they had always been very tactile, and so the shift to more intimate touches had not been that big of a step for them, nor had they been noticed by their, admittedly rather oblivious, friends.

"Ross has got Rachel and Joey. He'll be fine for just a few more minutes." Feeling her begin to protest again, Chandler continued; "I just wanna dance with my girlfriend, at our friend's wedding. Is that okay?"

Monica nodded, replacing her head back against his shoulder, as they moved softly to the music. Yes- that was more than okay. It wouldn't be easy for the next few weeks, regardless of the outcome of Ross and Emily; at some point her and Chandler would have to tell the others about their relationship, Phoebe was heavily pregnant with triplets that she couldn't keep, Rachel was in love with Ross, and Joey- well. Maybe Joey would be fine. But it would be okay. It would be more than that, she thought, as Chandler led her gently to the music, which faded into the background as she pulled herself close to his chest. It would be wonderful.

"Somewhere there's music, how faint the tune. Somewhere there's heaven. How high the moon."

A/N:: There you go! What did you think? Let me know whether you liked it by leaving a review! (In case it wasn't clear, the song that Monica and Chandler dance to at the end is supposed to be How High the Moon... just to clarify!) Until next time!