"Y'know, I uh.. just thought I'd throw this out here. I'm no math whiz, but I do believe there are three girls and three guys right here. Mmmhwooah, mmmhwooah …?!"

He had a point, Monica thought, but Phoebe was too depressed after David's departure, Rachel's lips hurt too much after her accident at the airport, and she herself really, really didn't want to kiss everybody in their place. Especially since Joey had – needlessly – pointed out that she couldn't kiss Ross. And she definitely didn't want to kiss Joey and risk having him open her bra at the same time – or worse.

And yet Chandler – it seemed to mean so much to him to get kissed at the start of the New Year that she started to take pity on him. Especially when he got really desperate and almost screamed at them to kiss him.

"Alright, somebody kiss me. Somebody kiss me, it's midnight! Somebody kiss me!"

„Alright, I'll kiss you" she said and stepped up to him. And almost laughed out loud when his jaw dropped in surprise and he stared at her dumbfounded. She smiled and put her hands on the lapels of his dark green coat, pushing him back a little, away from the others, and he recovered enough to quickly take her hands and retreat a few steps to the landing in front of the bathroom with her. There they stopped and she took his head in her hands, drew him down a little and firmly planted her lips on his before she could change her mind again.

And it was … so nice.

She had expected somebody – Ross mostly – to intervene, to stop her, or at least to laugh at them and ridicule them. Or someone from the party to crash into them, push them aside on their way to the bathroom or distract them. But none of that happened. Actually it seemed to her as if suddenly the world around them had disappeared. The party noises from the living room and from the Times Square festivities on the TV had just faded away. The only sound she still heard was Chandler drawing in his breath sharply as he kissed her back.

He handled it quite well too. Somehow she had expected him to be awkward and clumsy, to be either too shy and keep his lips too stiff, or too bold and press them too hard on hers, mashing them to her teeth. But he did it just right, with a gentle pressure that caressed her lips and teased a little, somehow inviting but never demanding or aggressive, and which turned out to be very – enjoyable. He had closed his eyes and put his hands lightly on her waist, holding her close but maintaining just enough distance between them to keep it from getting too intimate.

She hadn't wanted to draw it out, had actually just wanted to give him a firm smack to make him feel better about the New Year's party that had proved so disastrous for him – and her and the others too – so far, and incidentally make her feel better too. But his lips on hers felt so good, and just as she was about to pull away, he drew her to him by just the tiniest fraction and nudged just a little bit harder, surprising her into responding. She opened her lips almost without realizing it and he gently brushed across them nibbling at them just a little, and all of a sudden a shiver ran through her and she gasped. His eyes opened again and focused on her, with a strange expression in the blue that she couldn't quite read - tender, wistful, loving …? And then he slowly released her lips, moving away just enough so they could face each other, his hands still on her waist. She let her hands slide down to his collar and watched him swallow and lick his lips.

"Happy New Year, Monica" he said and his voice sounded strange all of a sudden, husky and fuzzy.

"Happy New Year, Chandler" she replied, her voice a little shaky too and he smiled.

"Thank you for kissing me" he said softly. "That was very nice."

"You're welcome. I liked it too. I didn't know you were such a good kisser!"

She almost regretted it as soon as she had said that and saw his eyes light up mischievously. Oh God no, now he would gloat and joke about it …

"Well, I have kissed over four women …" But when she glared at him and made a move to disengage, he went serious again. "No, actually you're a great kisser, Mon. I feel so much better now."

She stole a quick glance over her shoulder, suddenly nervous that someone would be watching them, but it really looked like nobody had witnessed their exchange. Ross and Phoebe were trying to comfort each other, both of them lost in their troubles, and Joey was attending Rachel, listening to her complaints and patting her back. In the living room Fun Bobby was still crying into his drink. It was as if the two of them had suddenly turned invisible to everybody else, which seemed really strange, but somehow she couldn't find it in herself to care. She turned back to Chandler and suddenly didn't know what to say.

"Well … thank you … I'm glad …" God, she was stammering. What was the matter with her? This was Chandler, her goofy, sarcastic, quick-witted, awkward, immature, at times pathetic and often annoying friend. Her neighbor. How could she seriously consider kissing him, let alone kissing him – again?

Except she did. Very much.

Their eyes met again and when she saw him work his mouth and swallow once more she realized that he wanted to kiss her again too, and another shiver ran through her, down her chest over her breasts to her stomach. She took a deep breath and started to speak in the same moment he did.

"Would you like –"

"Do you think we could –"

They both broke off and laughed breathlessly, gesturing at each other to go ahead and not wanting to say it first. And he was still holding her by her waist, she could feel the warmth from his hands through her dress. Somehow it heightened her desire and sealed her decision.

"Yes" she said breathlessly, giggling as he stared at her. "Yes – but not here …"

He swallowed again and looked around hectically, searching for a place. "Alright … outside?"

The balcony was out, some other people apparently had had the same idea and beaten them to it.

"Hallway?" he suggested and ushered her through the door before she could even answer. And still nobody seemed to notice them, let alone comment on their going. Chandler gently steered her to the left and they walked up the hallway, passing the doors of no. 22 and 21. She barely had time to wonder what she was doing, or if anybody had seen them leave, or why she even wanted this so much. They came to a stop close to the wall, and looked at each other nervously for a moment. Chandler opened his mouth and shut it again, and Monica, too impatient to wait for him, took the initiative and pulled his head down to hers again, kissing him hard. He caught himself quickly and put his arms around her, pulling her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and saw that he had closed his eyes again, just before she closed hers too and pressed against him, burying her fingers in his hair. And then time seemed to stand still. Nothing mattered except the amazing way his lips felt on hers, played with hers, teasing them, gently sucking and rubbing. And suddenly she could feel his teeth too, as he gently nibbled at her lips and caught her lower lip for just a moment, letting it go again and repeating the manoeuvre once more. It drove her crazy and she moaned, opening her mouth to invite him in and meeting his tongue as it cautiously advanced into her mouth. It made her shudder and whimper and press even closer to him. His body molded itself against hers, as he held her tighter and tighter, and then, almost as an afterthought, let his hands slide over her back, one straying downwards to the small of her back and one going up to the edge of her dress toying with the thin straps across her shoulder blades. When he touched her skin they both moaned into the kiss, and he started to stroke her shoulders softly with his palm and the tip of his thumb, while his fingertips wandered over the nape of her neck and played with her hair.

Eventually they had to release each other when they both ran out of air, and they kept their heads together while they both panted for breath. Monica only realized she was shivering when Chandler took off his coat and draped it around her shoulders. She stared at him mouthing 'Thank you' but never got a chance to say it out loud before he pulled her close again, pressing her against the wall for good measure. This time she wrapped her arms around his waist, sliding her hands under his waistcoat, feeling the heat from his skin through the thin dress shirt.

Just as their tongues touched again, the door of no. 21 opened and several people came out, chatting and laughing excitedly, heading past them for the stairs to go up to the roof and watch the fireworks from there. Nobody took the slightest notice of them.

"Want to go up?" Chandler asked softly and smiled.

"Won't it be too cold?" But she already had decided that she wanted to go. Chandler just smiled and put his arm around her as he led her to the stairs and up to the door to the roof platform. It was indeed cold, but just bearable if they stood close to the wall around the corner from the door, out of the wind. She looked at the fireworks as they lit up Manhattan all around her in all colors and her breath caught. For a while they stood like this, close together and arms around each other, staring at the lights and going aaahh and ooohh at each particularly amazing explosion of colors. At last she realized that he was only in a shirt and waistcoat and that her feet in the thin pumps were freezing, and silently motioned to him that they should leave. When she stumbled a little on the stairs he held her close again and then kissed her again on the landing and again on the next. She couldn't get enough of his kisses and hurried down each flight as fast as possible to reach for him again on the next landing. Then they arrived at the fifth floor and came to a stop between the two doors of their respective apartments, and she was at a loss what to do. She didn't want to end this, and definitely didn't want to go back to her apartment and face everybody again, especially not in Chandler's coat and with her hair disheveled and lips swollen from their kissing. But she felt very cold and her feet hurt in her tight icy pumps. She looked at Chandler, leaving the decision to him, and he swallowed again and then jerked his head towards no. 19, silently questioning. She hesitated a little and then nodded. He breathed out audibly and hurriedly opened the door to let her in, then kicked it shut as he took her in his arms again. The apartment was dark and deserted, only lit up briefly by some particularly bright firework outside the windows of the living room. She huddled against him, shuddering with her eyes closed again. Somewhere deep in her mind some voice was screaming at her, demanding to know what she was doing, how she could possibly do this, and she desperately tried to shut it out. Chandler put his hands on her waist and gently slid them up her sides to under her arms until he was cupping her breasts with his hands. When he tentatively searched for her nipples with the tips of his thumbs she shivered and then brought up her hands and held them against his chest, pushing him away a little.

"Chandler … what are we doing? What does it mean?"

"Shshshsh … Monica …" He put his hands over hers and pressed them against his chest. "It doesn't mean anything."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"This is New Year's Night. Nothing matters. Whatever happens, it doesn't count. Until the sun comes up, everything goes and nothing matters. It's – it's bonus night. Free rides. No consequences. No meaning. Just – relax. And enjoy."

"I don't underst-"

"I know. Just trust me."

"But –"

"Shsh." He kissed her again, pushing her arms over his shoulders and she simply couldn't resist his lips, latching on hungrily. He put one arm around her shoulders and let one hand slide down over her hip and thigh, then shifted suddenly bending his knees, and picked her up bodily. She gasped and clung to him as he carried her swiftly across the living room to his bedroom, still kissing her. He managed to open the door without too much fumbling and then let her down, kicking it shut behind them and turning the key. His coat fell from her shoulders to the floor, neither of them minding it. He put his arms around her again and fumbled for the zipper of her dress, pulling it down slowly and lovingly. She slid the straps off her shoulders and then the dress came away from her, slowly as in a dream, sliding down her waist and over her hips, leaving her in a thin shoulder-free bra and not much else. His hands went up her sides and over her arms again, and they felt so warm and exciting, as he kissed her again. Then the bra was loosened too and she barely had time to wonder how he had gotten so good with bras all of a sudden, when he squatted and went down on her, kissing her on her neck, breasts, stomach, navel, groin and thighs, gently tugging down her nylon hose and thong. She held on to his shoulders, burying her fingers in his hair, and lifted one foot after the other as he removed the hose and shoe from it and then briefly held it in both hands, warming it. His head came up a little again and she felt his hot breath and then his lips on her labia as he kissed her there, running his hands up her thighs and over her hips and buttocks. It almost made her swoon with desire.

This can't be, she thought. This is Chandler. I'm naked in Chandler Bing's bedroom, and he's making love to me, and all this just because I kissed him at midnight for luck in the New Year … And just like he said, it doesn't mean anything, because it's still night, the lost hours between midnight and the first morning of the New Year, the magical time where nothing matters, nothing counts, nothing means anything, because it's not real, it can't be real.

She pulled him up to her, whimpering with desire now, and tore at his trouser belt and button, tearing down the zipper none too gently, while he squirmed out of his waistcoat and pulled his shirt over his head. There was a slight delay when his shoes inevitably got snagged in his pant legs, but at last he was as naked as she. Entwined they fell on the bed, rolling about and wrapping their arms and legs around each other. She screamed into their kiss as he entered her and clawed at his back and buttocks, and then everything around her became a blur, a dark blind swirl that engulfed them where nothing mattered anymore.

. . .

When the alarm went, she was still panting heavily, clutching the sheets to her and the words 'it doesn't count' it doesn't count it doesn't count' repeating over and over in her brain. Her eyes flew open and she stared at the ceiling of her bedroom uncomprehendingly. The grey light of dawn filtered through her bedroom window. She shut the alarm and lay back again, feeling groggy and confused. It was 8 a.m., she had to get up now to get ready to visit her parents with Ross like they did at every New Year.

'It doesn't count' something whispered in her brain again and she frowned. What didn't? What had happened exactly?

She remembered the party and groaned. Fun Bobby had shown up so sad and depressed he almost brought the whole party down. Ross had brought a monkey, Rachel had come back from the airport battered and beaten up and sans Paolo, Phoebe had had to break up with David, Joey hadn't counted on his date bringing her children and then cheating on him, and Chandler had broken up with Janice. Again. And then wanted so much to be kissed. So desperately. Chandler … there had been something with Chandler.

She frowned and closed her eyes, trying to remember, but her head hurt too much. Funny, she couldn't remember drinking much really. But probably had, given her general frustration.

At last she sighed and got out of bed. Whatever it was, she couldn't remember. Something with Chandler, something to do with kissing him for the New Year. Which couldn't be, because Joey had eventually kissed him, when nobody else wanted to. Which was a good thing too, those two were surely in for a lot of fun this year too. And she could always tease them about it if they ever annoyed her again.

And maybe next New Year's Eve – or the one after – she would kiss Chandler if nobody else did. Just to see what it was like.

After all, it didn't really count then.

.

.

.

A/N: If this has been done before, then I'm sorry, but I honestly didn't know. It's not improbable, considering how many have gone before me in Fanfiction after all.

And I'm afraid since I'm an incorrigible Canon stickler that's about as far as I will and can go with a Mondler AU, within the timeframe of the series at least.

I hope you enjoy it and that all of you out there have a wonderful and happy New Year!

PS: And I just realized (only now!) that the episode in fact is set exactly 20 years ago, New Year's Eve 1994. Wow, this is ... surreal indeed.