A/N: First, I want to thank everyone who reviewed 'Valentine's Day' :)

It was a 'spur of the moment' fic, which I wrote in like an hour, not to mention the fact that it was my first attempt at humor (sorry, if you didn't find any in it). So, yeah, they meant a lot to me. Thank you :)

Now, I've gone from 'corny' to 'absolute cliché' with this fic (even I know that's not a good thing). And yes, I know I don't need another series going on now, but I have no excuse.

Well, maybe one... The way I see it, when I have multiple fics to work with, I'm distracted and engaged, all at once (does that make any sense?). And what's more? It keeps me from thinking about an early retirement from FFN (I abhor the concept of unfinished fics). Besides, wouldn't you be happy if I whined a little less?

This takes place in the mid-season 3.

Pretend

Chapter 1

"I can't deal with this anymore, Rach." Monica placed her head in her hands as she mumbled to her best friend. "I am wearing flame retardant boobs the size of basketballs. I'm really not in the mood to deal with unrequited love. I mean, he kept calling me the whole time he was on this business trip to Austria."

"I know, Mon." Rachel nodded sympathetically. "And I don't think it's the size of basketballs... Really huge coconuts, maybe?"

"Did you hear anything else I said?"

"Oh, yeah." Rachel nodded again. "I don't think Pete has unrequited love for you. Maybe an unrequited crush."

Monica smiled, titling her head to one side. "Thank you, Rachel. Thank you for spending your time with me, and thank you for focusing on the more important things I say."

"Ok, look," Rachel sighed. "Just tell him that you don't feel that way about him. Tell him that the only kind of feelings that you have towards him is… platonic."

"Do you think I haven't tried?" Monica retorted, placing a coffee in front of Rachel. Who would have thought that she, like Rachel once had, would get a chance to serve coffee, too. God, she hated her job. "Every time I start a sentence with 'Pete, I don't think', he cuts me off, and steers the conversation in a totally different direction, at the end of which I'm left with guilt, and an indecent amount of tip."

"Hey!" Rachel perked up. "If he doesn't turn you on, you could always think about his money!"

"Once again, Rach," Monica gave her a phony smile. "Thank you for enriching my life with your pearls of wisdom."

Rachel shrugged. "How do you think I slept with Barry for four years?"

"Because you loved him?"

Rachel snorted, looking at her as if to say don't be such a Pollyanna, and patted Monica's hand. "You still have a lot to learn, Mon." She took a sip of her coffee, and looked around distractedly.

Her eyes widened a second later, and she placed the cup on the counter, leaning towards Monica. "Pete's coming," she whispered conspiratorially.

Monica looked up to see Pete making his way towards them. "Hey, Pete," she smiled. "What can I get for you? A hamburger?" she asked him before he could respond. Maybe if she never let him speak, she'd get through the day without having another awkward conversation with him.

If at all fat camp had taught her anything, it was the fact that telling you aren't attracted to someone, repeatedly, breaks that person's heart. She still had emotional scars to prove that theory.

This isn't about something that happened fifteen years ago, she reminded herself.

But why did people keep returning to the person who never fails to break their heart? Was it for some kind of twisted, masochistic pleasure?

"Yeah, I'll have a hamburger." He sat down, turning to face Rachel. "Hello, Rachel."

"Hi, Pete," she smiled back, returning to her coffee in haste, unwilling to get sucked into whatever that was going on between Pete and Monica. Where was Chandler? He'd said he'd meet them there for lunch.

"How was your Austria trip?" Monica asked, handing him the hamburger.

"It was fine," he shrugged. "I could have used some company, though," he said smiling. "It'd have made a great second date."

Rachel squirmed in her seat uncomfortably, glancing at the restaurant entrance for any sign of Chandler. "I'm going to kill him," she muttered to herself.

"What?" Monica responded quickly to Rachel, thankful for the interruption.

"Nothing, nothing," Rachel replied, looking away. "Oh, my god! You've gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed a second later.

"What?" Monica asked again, following Rachel's gaze.

Just whenever she thought things couldn't possibly get any worse, it always did. Always. But this... this moment was the kind of stuff that you had nightmares about. This cannot get worse.

"Monica."

"What- what are you doing here?" she stuttered to the newcomer, noticing Rachel move away ever so slightly from the three of them.

She glanced at Pete, who was now frowning at the intruder. A moment later, his brow slowly cleared as if he was realizing something.

As Monica stared open-mouthed, Pete got up quickly, sticking out a hand for Richard to shake. "Hello, sir. You must be Monica's father. I'm Pete. Pete Becker."

Oh, wait. It just got worse.

How had he reached that conclusion?

"Pete!" she stared at him in shock while Rachel chuckled lightly. When Monica glared at her, her chuckle turned into a cough, and she glanced again at the entrance, longing for Chandler's appearance. She could really do with some inopportune jokes of his right now.

Richard shook Pete's hand, smiling politely. "Richard Burke. I'm actually Monica's um... friend."

"Oh," Pete nodded, looking embarrassed. "Oh!" he exclaimed a moment later, finally realizing why the name sounded so familiar. He'd heard Monica talk about him to Rachel a lot. A lot.

"Rachel," Richard smiled at her fondly. "How are you?"

"Good, good. Thank you!" she smiled back. "How are you?"

"Wouldn't say great," he shrugged, glancing at Monica briefly. "But I'm okay."

The atmosphere around them tense, Monica forced herself to look away from Richard.

What did he want now? It'd taken her six months to get over him, so why should he come now and almost ruin the perfectly insulant wall that she had built to prevent herself from feeling that dull, persistent ache in her heart? Why was Pete's expression turning slightly hostile? And why the hell was Rachel constantly looking at the entrance?

Cool, act cool, she told herself. If he asks how you've been, just tell him that you're fine, and that you're 'happily' single. Probably not the reply that either man would prefer, but for the sake of her own sanity, that should be her only answer. She cannot go through another heartbreak. It would destroy her. Nothing has changed, remember that.

She looked at Richard when he finally spoke to her. "How are you, Monica?"

"I'm fine, I have a great job, and I have wonderful customers," she said, motioning towards Rachel and Pete. And in a moment of something that she would never be able to explain, she added, "And I finally have an amazing boyfriend who wants the same things I want in life."

The three of them stared at her in shock, and her own eyes widened when she realized what she'd said. It wasn't supposed to come out that way. She had meant to say something which would make Richard regret letting her go. But this?

Oh, god, kill me now.

So much for acting 'cool'.

"What!" they asked her in unison. "You're seeing someone?" Rachel asked, looking at her incredulously.

She looked at Rachel, trying to convey to her that she had made a mistake. "Oh," Rachel sighed as she finally understood, nonetheless looking shocked at the complete mess her friend was making out of the situation.

"Who is it?" Pete asked, his voice holding a trace of accusation.

With the two men looking at her expectantly, and with Rachel shaking her head in disapproval, she found it hard to think of an imaginary name.

The tension increasingly very quickly, Rachel muttered again, "Where the hell is Chandler?"

And in a sudden moment of inspiration, Monica replied to Pete's question. "Chandler!"

"What?" they asked her again, all at once.

She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, her voice eluding her. She wondered whether she looked like a fish to the three of them.

Of all the names that she could have said, why 'Chandler'? She wanted to bury her face in her hands, lock herself up in a room, and never come back outside, but her audience was still waiting for her response.

"Chandler?" Richard asked. "As in your friend Chandler?"

She glanced at Rachel, and could almost read her thought - Mon, what are you getting yourself into? She gave her a minuscule, helpless shrug. She looked at Pete and Richard, and nodded. "Yes, I'm dating Chandler," she said, not knowing that the way she said it sounded utterly believable.

She had reached the superlative with relative ease – this was the worst.

~.~

Monica entered the boys' apartment that evening, looking for Chandler. He hadn't come at all that afternoon, leaving Rachel pretty pissed with him.

She wanted to tell him about the new developments. Yes, there had been 'developments'. 'Oh, Monica, the last time I met your friend Joey, he invited me to a play of his this Sunday. I'll see you, and Chandler there' and 'Oh, Monica, I'm throwing a party the next weekend. I'd love it if you could stop by. Your parents are coming, too. Why don't you bring Chandler along?'

She stopped walking the moment she saw Chandler and Joey. Chandler, sitting on his barcalounger, was looking into a beer can through its opening, rotating the can as though it was a kaleidoscope, and Joey was lying on his back, on the floor, waving his arms and legs up and down.

"Hey, Mon!" Joey greeted her from the floor. "Look, I'm making a snow angel!"

Chandler turned to see her, getting off his chair. "Hey! Did you see Joey's snow angel?"

"Are you guys drunk?" she asked in disbelief. It was a weekday, and it was just 5 in the evening, so why were they drunk?

"No..." Chandler drawled. "This is no place for such shenanigans! We're completely, one hundred percent sober," he said, looking down at Joey. They stared at each other for a second before they burst into alcohol-induced laughter.

"Chandler."

"Alright," he shrugged. "We stayed from work, and celebrated the completion of my five months of singledom." He handed her a beer, and clinked it with his own empty can. "It's been officially five months since Janice dumped me. Cheers!"

"So you are drunk," she concluded. Him being drunk could either work for her, or against her. She'd have to convince him to play along with her stupid plan, very, very carefully.

"I'm drunk," he nodded. "But Ross is drunker, and Joey's drunkest."

"Yeah, baby!" Joey pumped his fist in the air.

"Wait, Ross is here?" she asked him, suddenly worried. Her brother's presence might be a huge disadvantage.

"Yeah, he's in the bathroom," he pointed. "Hey, Ross!" he yelled, "Mon's here to see you!"

"No, no, no," she shook her head, pulling him towards the kitchen counter, placing her beer on it. "I came to see you."

"Hey, Ross!" he shouted again. "She's here to see me, not you. Take your own time!"

"Don't talk to me now!" Ross shouted back. "I have bladder shyness."

"We didn't need to know that, man," Chandler replied with a look of disgust. "Hey, Joe," he hissed at Joey. "Yellow snow!"

Joey nodded back, winking. "Ross, you're making the snow yellow!" he yelled, and they heard Ross groan in frustration. Joey and Chandler collapsed into a fit of rather girly giggles.

"Ugh," Monica shook her head, disgusted.

"Don't worry, Monica," Joey lifted his hand, in what resembled a Nazi salute. "I'll save the Gotham city for you." And this was followed by another bout of laughter from him and Chandler.

She shook her head, quickly becoming impatient. Ross's words were slurred, and Joey was at the stage where one more beer would help him pass out. But Chandler appeared sober enough for the conversation that she wanted to have with him. Besides, drunk people tended to agree to things easily. The different kinds of men that she'd had slept with in the past were a testimony to that fact.

She snatched the beer can from Chandler's hand, and placed it on the counter.

"Hey!" he protested, but complied when she pulled him out the door, and into the hallway, clutching his arm tightly.

She closed the door behind them, and held him by his shoulders. "Chandler, I need your help."

"But Joey just offered to protect Gotham for you!"

"Chandler..." she sighed. "I need you to be my pretend boyfriend."

He suddenly looked alert. "Come again?"

"Ok, look. Pete and Richard came to the diner today, and, while having a perfectly normal conversation, I told them, for some unknown reason, that you are my boyfriend," she looked at him sheepishly.

He stared at her for a second, and shook his head. "Come again?" he repeated.

"Chandler..." she whined. "I'm sorry, but it just came out, y'know? I wanted to show Richard that I was doing great without him, and all of a sudden I blurted out that I have a boyfriend. When they asked for a name, yours was the only one that came to my mind!" And of course the fact that Rachel had been cursing him had helped, but he didn't need to know that now.

"You couldn't think of anyone else, huh?" He smirked, looking flattered. "Ok, but why are you telling me this? It's not like either of them is going to come investigating for the truth."

"That's where it gets worse. Apparently, Joey invited Pete to his play this Sunday, and Richard has invited us," she emphasized 'us' by motioning to the space between them, "to a party the next weekend."

"So?"

"So, I need you to pretend like you're my boyfriend."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Mon," he shook his head. "I mean, it's very flattering. Really. But I suck at acting, and I don't think I'd be very comfortable watching two guys pine over you, while they're secretly wishing that I'd die." He patted her arm consolingly, and moved to open his apartment door.

She pulled him back. "Please, please, Chandler. It's not like it's forever. It's just for two nights. Please? Pretty please? My mother's going to be there at Richard's party, and I cannot put up with her 'how did you manage to screw things up with Richard again?' crap. Think of it as helping out a good friend. You're helping me to teach Pete that he has to move on, and to show Richard that I have moved on."

"Why do you need to show Richard that?"

"For the sake of my dignity and self-esteem?"

"Hey," he shrugged, "I've been living without those for quite sometime now, and I'm doing pretty well!"

She took his hand in both of hers, and held it to her chest. "Chandler, could you please be my pretend boyfriend?"

He sighed, stroking his forehead with his other hand. "Why did it have to be my name?"

"I've been asking myself that very question."

He nodded, looking off at a distance, thoughtfully. He looked back at her after several seconds. "Am I allowed to make out with you?"

"No," she shook her head.

"Can I kiss you on the lips, no tongue?"

"No."

He shook his head again, turning to his door. "I'm out."

"Ok, ok." She pulled him back once again. "You can kiss my hands. And my cheeks!" she looked at him enticingly.

"Yeah," he shook his head. "I don't wanna do that unless you're the Pope. Or if I want people to think of me as your gay boyfriend."

"Well..." she trailed off, shrugging.

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Yes, yes, I do," she nodded vigorously. "Please? You'd be doing your friend a favor. Just two nights, and I'll be eternally grateful to you."

"Didn't I tell you to stop reading my mother's books?"

"Please, help me," she pleaded, her eyes practically begging him.

He shrugged finally, sighing. "Alright, fine," he nodded. "But don't come complaining to me when you can't resist my charm, and fall head over heels in love with me."

"I don't think that's going to be much of a problem," she retorted.

"Again, do you want my help or not?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you, Chandler," she wrapped her arms around him tightly, and kissed his cheek. "I love you so, so much. Thank you!" She pulled back, gagging slightly. "By the way, you need a shower. Very badly."

~.~.~

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to one of our all-time favorite characters – Joey Tribbiani! Because, we never get to see a drunk Joey on the show (at least I don't remember watching one) :)

Guess what? I have absolutely no idea where I'm going with this story. It definitely ain't gonna have double-digit chapters, though. But stay tuned! I'll figure things out ;)