A/N: Well, I think it should be pretty obvious by now that I'm struggling with writer's block, and that I'm trying to come up with new ways to overcome this infuriating condition that I did NOT believe even existed.

It just... it saddens me so much because writing is something that I used to be so passionate about :(

(I'm making it sound like I'm dying, aren't I?)

Disclaimer: I do not own the lines from the show.

Maybe Someday

"Why?" he whines. "I just don't understand why."

"Well, what do you not understand?" she asks, digging her toes into the beach sand.

"Why do you think we wouldn't work out as a couple? Give me five good reasons why."

"I never said we wouldn't work out as a couple. I'm just saying that I would never date you."

"Ok," he nods. "Then give me five good reasons why you wouldn't date me."

"Which part of 'Just let it go, Chandler' do you not get?" she retorts, annoyed.

"See! You cannot even come up with one good reason!" he exclaims, raising himself on his elbows to look at her accusingly.

"Ok, you know what, you want five reasons? I'll give you ten!" she snaps.

"I said 'good' reasons," he mumbles, knowing instinctively that no 'good' is going to come out of this conversation.

"Well, for one thing, you're my brother's best friend-"

"Hey, I always thought that was a huge turn on for girls!"

"It is," she agrees, "but you're one of my best friends too, so that negates the turn on."

"Oh, that is SO-"

"I've known you for like what, eight years? And the most committed relationships I've ever seen you have are with Janice, and that carton of expired milk that you've had in your refrigerator for the last one year."

Ouch!

"Hey!" he starts, offended. "I have seen you date a man who was twice your age, and another one who was half your age, and you don't hear me saying that I wouldn't date you because of those... miscalculations of yours! And milk happens to be a very, very expensive commodity."

"Ethan was not half my age!" she exclaims. "Anyway, that leads me to my third point: you are desperate. I have seen you propose to three women whom you had just met."

That count is actually way more than three, but she doesn't need to know that. "You wanna talk about desperate? Your brother married a lesbian – how is that for desperate?" he asks lamely.

She ignores his comment and continues. "You get pedicures."

"That's not even a valid reason! How does that in any way affect you?!" he asks, exasperated.

"You get pedicures today, you might get your eyebrows plucked tomorrow, and then who knows, all of a sudden you'll be telling me that you are so done with women, and that you want to "explore" your options," she shrugs. "I mean, I'd give you my blessings and all, but just because my brother married a lesbian, doesn't mean I want to end up with a gay dude."

He glares at her evenly. "The reason why I get pedicures is because I would like to take good care of my feet, given that I have only nine and a half toes to take care of, thanks to you."

She blushes lightly under the scorching sun, but shrugs again in a 'whatever' way, and continues. "You are so very emotionally manipulative sometimes that it's actually scary."

"What?" he looks at her like she's crazy.

"You managed to almost get me into a state of clinical depression just because I asked you to work out," she cocks an eyebrow, as if to remind him.

His own frown clears in understanding. "'Asked' me? You were practically bullying me into working out! I mean, it was a Sunday! You made me run three miles on a Sunday! I had to do something..."

"You smoke."

"Again, how does that affect you? And don't give me that 'passive smoking' bullshit, because I know better than to smoke in front of you guys."

"How does it affect me?!" she looks at him incredulously. "What if you get lung cancer and die? What would I do as a young widow, and how would I raise our children without their father?"

"Children?" he chokes instantly, blanching to a color nearly as pale as his shirt.

She looks at him triumphantly, knowing that she had won this round. "You are a commitment-phobe."

Ouch! Ouch!

There's no way he could argue with that.

"You are extremely nitpicky when it comes to women - You once broke up with a girl because she didn't know the capital of Cambodia."

"I broke up with her because she thought the capital of Cambodia is Sean Penn."

"Do you know the capital of Cambodia?"

"Manila," he shrugs confidently.

"That's Philippines."

"Whatever," he waves it off dismissively. "At any rate, if you want to go out with a geography expert, you can only date Ross." He pauses to think about what he had just said, and frowns. "And since he is your brother, that would be so gross on so many levels."

"Eww!" she swats the back of his head. "Oh, and you are immature and you use humor as a defense mechanism."

"Well, my parents screwed up my childhood, and I think that's a very valid excuse."

"Hey, I had a crappy, screwed up childhood too! Do you see me making dumb jokes all through the day?"

"Monica, you scrub your kitchen sink twelve times before you go to bed. I would say we're both equally screwed up."

"Okay, I'll give you that one," she nods, conceding, much to his shock. "How many has it been so far, nine?"

"You know what, I think nine's enough," he nods. He is not sure that his self-esteem could take any more of these 'Reasons Not to Date Chandler Bing'. Besides, at the rate at which she is going, she might even write a book by the same name and turn it into a New York Times Best Seller.

"All right," she shrugs, nonchalant, closing her eyes and leaning back on her elbows.

He stares at her, somewhere between miffed and piqued, even though a small voice in the corner of his brain says that at least seven out of those nine reasons that she had given him are painfully valid.

"Hey, guys, could you throw me my bigger shovel?" Joey asks from the 'hole' that he is digging.

A thirty-year-old adult digging a hole in the beach... Joey astounds Chandler sometimes.

He ignores Joey at the moment though, and turns to Monica again. "So if I could change all these... qualities that you mention," he pauses for a moment, "would you go out with me?"

His persistence annoys and flatters her at the same time. She sighs and opens her eyes again to look at him.

To her surprise, he looks resolute and serious in a way she has never seen him before.

She gnaws at her lower lip as she deliberates on what to say, and in those few seconds that she takes to answer, he wonders whether he is really that 'undateable'.

She slowly shakes her head. "I'm not worth that, Chandler."

"What?" his eyebrows rise in surprise.

"I'm not really worth that. I'm not worth you changing yourself for..."

"Would you see that?! We both have low self-esteem! We're so made for each other!" he grins, but quickly sobers up when she doesn't smile back.

They are friends, and there are rules. And he doesn't even have romantic feelings for her...

Well, it's true that they aren't romantic feelings – because even he knows that between the two of them, they've had enough disastrous relationships to write a book (which would once again make it as a New York Times Best Seller) – they are just friendly feelings.

It's like, if any of the three women from their group wants to make out with him (or do something more), he wouldn't be saying no.

Well, he would say no to Rachel because Ross. And he would say no to Phoebe because... well, she is Phoebe, and it would be just plain weird.

But, if he has to change himself for anyone in this entire world, it would be for Monica, and only for Monica.

He wishes he could tell her that without it sounding weird, without it freaking her out.

"You are worth it, Mon," he says gently. "At least for me, you are."

She smiles at him – just a tiny, lopsided smile – and it turns into a full-fledged grin. "You have a sock on your nightstand, and every time I ask you about it, you never give me a straight answer. That's number ten."

She continues to grin even under the heat of his glare. Just as he is about to retort, Joey yells from the hole again.

"Guys! The shovel, please!"

"All right, all right, all right," Chandler waves off Reason No.10, once again ignoring Joey. "All right, there is a nuclear holocaust. I am the last man on earth," he pauses dramatically. "Would you go out with me?"

"Eh..." she shrugs indifferently, the vulnerable-Monica from just a few seconds back vanishing in an instant.

Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!

'Yes' – it's such a simple word, and it is all that he wants to hear from her. He'll never understand why she is so reluctant to give him that, though.

"I've got canned goods," he says enticingly. She just laughs at him.

Feeling uncharacteristically optimistic, he tells himself, maybe someday.

Maybe someday.

~.~.~

A/N: Alert: Extremely long author note!

I don't actually consider this fic complete. I might add another chapter to this.

I just want to tell how incredibly sorry I am to all the people who have reviewed/favorited/followed (I'm nearing a 100 there, woohoo!) me in these past few months. I haven't even thanked you guys. So here it is – thank you :)

And, for people who keep inquiring me whether If it's Love will be continued, the answer is yes. It will be continued. Although, it's been like a year since I wrote the last chapter, and I'm quite worried that my style of writing has now changed drastically to the point that it would actually be distracting to you guys :/

Thank you for the encouraging reviews though :)

As for my other multi-chaptered fics, I'm not sure whether I'll be continuing That Thing Called Love, and The Finish Line, but the others will be continued. But it might take some time, so please bear with my erratic updating.

And finally – to all the authors whose stories I haven't reviewed in God knows how long – please forgive me. Whenever I add a story to my alert list, I make it a point to review the fic. But I haven't read or reviewed any fic on this site in the past six months. I'm slowly getting around to reading them though. Please expect me to be up-to-date with your fics within a week or so :D

Thank you for reading the fic! :)