A/N: Quarantine 2020 edition, I guess. This is set shortly after TOW The Two Parts (1x16, 1x17) and it's PreMondler. Yep, I got inspired again by all those amazing stories that are getting published these days. Not sure where I'll take this, but expect more than just this chapter.

Chandler stared at the numbers at the screen in front of him. The longer he looked at the jumbled mess of figures, the less sense they made to him. The end of the fiscal year was coming closer, resulting in a lot of overtime for him and his colleagues.

Ever since he recently got promoted and moved into his new fancy office – walls and everything included – he had spent even more time at work. Shouldn't it be the other way around? He had hoped that with the raise and more power, he would at least be able to dump some of the unwanted workload onto his less successful subordinates.

He stopped in his tracks when he remembered one of those less fortunate subordinates.

Nina.

Oh, Nina.

She had been like a woman straight out of a dream. She made the women that he usually dreamed about look like short, fat, bald men.

He still couldn't believe how he messed that up. He had finally found this incredible woman and the crazy thing was – she wanted to go out with him, too! Realistically speaking, he knew that meeting someone at work never worked out well, but never in a million years had he anticipated such a disastrous outcome.

Perhaps all the overtime and extra workload served him right.

When his vision became blurry and the numbers grew hazy again, he knew it was no use. He turned off the computer, A.N.U.S. be damned, and packed his things, heading home.

"Joey?..."

"Joe?!"

When Chandler still didn't receive an answer, he sighed and opened the fridge. He was suddenly met with an odd smell and a vast emptiness, and decided to quickly grab the last bottle of YooHoo before closing the door shut again. When he spotted his roommate's scribbled notes on the Magna Doodle, it all made sense to him.

Today was Friday.

No wonder Joey was nowhere to be found. From what Chandler could gather, his hunky friend was already meeting half of the female population of New York.

Chandler surely wasn't one to be found on dance floors on weekends, but today he also didn't feel like moping around all alone in front of the TV all evening. He glanced at his watch before deciding to make his way over to apartment 20 to see if the girls were up to a fun game of Twister or the like.

To Chandler's surprise, he was met with a dark and empty apartment. Their group of friends loved hanging out in their apartments, even on weekends, so the unusual sight left him puzzled for a moment. He tried to remember whether Monica or Rachel had mentioned any plans for this weekend, but he couldn't come up with anything. Not wanting to return to his own empty apartment, he quietly closed the door behind himself and started to look for any indication one of the girls was in.

He cringed when he came closer to the big bay window and noticed the bare body of Ugly Naked Guy across the street as he served himself dinner – a sizzling, one pound steak nonetheless. Chandler stopped in his tracks when he realised that even the fat, unattractive nude guy had company on a Friday night.

Unbelievable!

It was only then that he noticed the soft light coming out from the crack under the door to his right. Could it be that Monica was in?

For a little while, he debated whether to knock on her door or not, unsure if his friend was already asleep. But before he could make up his mind, the door opened and he was face-to-face with a wide-eyed, pajama-clad Monica. If what she was wearing could in fact be called a pajama.

"Jesus, Chandler!"

Her hand was clutching her chest as she tried to recover from the shock of spotting a male silhouette in the middle of her dark living room at such a late hour.

"I-I'm sorry, Mon. I didn't mean to scare you like that."

Chandler's eyes travelled up and down her body, quickly scanning the brunette. She was only wearing a black lace nightie, her toned arms suddenly crossing in front of her chest and Chandler realised he must have made her uncomfortable. He'd never ever seen his friend wearing that.

Swallowing hard, he clung to the cold bottle of YooHoo in his right hand as he averted his eyes again, at a lack of things to say.

Monica was the first to find her voice again, her bare feet now cold against the floor.

"It's okay, I just didn't expect you, that's all."

Chandler nodded, his eyes focused on the label of the cocoa bottle.

"I just came home from work and Joey seems to be out, so I figured I'd come over here to see if any of you were up for… well, hangin' out, I guess."

Monica bit her lip, still feeling awfully exposed in just her lingerie. If Chandler found out about her actual plans for the evening, that would not bode well for the both of them. Knowing that had to wait, she nodded at him and pointed over at her door.

"Of course. Just let me… change into something more comfortable," she whispered before retreating into her bedroom, closing the door behind her again.

Chandler cursed under his breath as he noticed that his slacks had become tighter from the unusual encounter with Monica just now. He couldn't help but fantasize about what she'd been doing on the other side of the door, mere inches away from him, unaware of his presence.

When he realised that his best friend was the object of his affection, he quickly shook his head, trying to get his mind out of the gutter.

Sure, he'd had one hell of a crush on his friend's little sister back in college, but ever since they had become inseparable, she'd been off limits.

He was probably just still upset about losing Nina.

Oh, Nina.

This train of thought did definitely not help his nether regions to calm down.

Monica leaned against the door of her bedroom, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths, trying to come to terms what had just happened.

This was the first night in a long time during which she had the apartment to herself and she didn't have to work the late shift. She'd enjoyed an extensive bubble bath earlier before retreating into her bedroom, happy to finally have some alone time.

While she enjoyed spending time with their close-knit group, it was nearly impossible to get rid of the inquisitive bunch. But this weekend was different. Rachel went to Long Island to spend the weekend with her parents, accompanied by Ross who went to the Geller family home to pick up some more childhood trophies, while Phoebe mentioned attending an odd ceremony with her grandma. She knew Joey would most likely be out on a date again and Chandler had been coming home insanely late every single day for the past few weeks.

She distinctly remembered the crazy story about him dating his co-worker, reminding herself of her own disastrous date with the two male doctors a few weeks ago. She shuddered at the mere thought of the evening, knowing it was best to swear off men for a little while.

She glanced over at her unmade bed, the pink floral bed sheets still a mess from before. As soon as she had changed into some comfortable sweats and a casual shirt, she decided to fold the sheets again and to get rid of the book.

Biting her lip, Monica knew that Chandler would not be happy if he ever found out that she was resorting to Nora Bing's erotica in moments like these. She opened the top drawer of her night stand carefully and placed Euphoria Unbound next to the emergency box of condoms.

"And before I know it, she turns around and offers me an excruciating detail about my date."

Monica couldn't hide the grin that formed on her lips as she takes another swig of her beer.

"Does she have three nipples?"

Chandler shot daggers at his female friend, not believing her cockiness.

"No," he retorted. "But someone clearly doesn't want to hear the end of this story."

She laughed out loud before scooting closer to him on the couch, nearly falling over in the process.

"C'mon, Chandler. I'm sorry. I do want to hear the end."

He eyed her for a moment before finishing his second bottle of beer and placing the now empty beverage on the coaster on the coffee table.

"So dear Shelley tells me my date's cute."

Unable to fully understand the meaning behind his punch line, Monica looked at him quizzically.

"And that sucks because you don't like them cute?"

"Yeah right, if that were true you and I would not be friends!" He laughed before clearing his throat, unsure of what he had just implied.

"Anyway, turns out my date's a he."

She erupted in laughter, trying hard to breathe in between the fits.

"Oh God, I did not see that coming."

Chandler just nodded his head, opening another beer and taking a sip.

"I'm glad my life is so amusing."

She tried to get her laughter under control before looking over at her best friend, her hand reaching out to stroke his arm.

"I'm sorry, Chandler. You know, if it's any consolation, my love life is not known for being a success story either."

As he nodded along, Chandler remembered some of her catastrophic dates. There'd been the whole Kip fiasco, of course. Typical Monica, she had been the one to fall head-over-heels for his Jewish roommate, who'd just been looking for a casual fling with the hot girl next door. He still remembered their colossal fight, which had taken place right on the other side of his bedroom door. Kip had subsequently been phased out and moved out and Monica had been moping around for weeks after the break-up, Chandler having to console her.

And then there had been the idiot Paul the Wine Guy, who Monica had been really excited about for weeks on end before he finally asked her out only to get her into bed by using a line.

He wasn't sure whether it was the toxic combination of alcohol and loneliness, but he felt a sudden twinge of sadness.

"Right. Well, I sure managed to liven up this party," he quipped.

Monica grinned slightly before reaching out to grab another one of her home-made cookies.

"At least your parents aren't a total embarrassment."

Monica glanced over at Chandler, furrowing her brow. Sometimes Chandler's train of thought resembled an express train.

"Whaddya mean?"

For the record, one beer usually resulted in Chandler getting chatty and opening up, while the second bottle put his sarcasm in full swing. By the time he got to the third bottle, he'd usually reached the level of loneliness stemming from his childhood memories. As he thought back about the past few weeks and months, he couldn't help but remember one specific evening during which one of his best friends had ended up making out with his mother. Or rather the other way around.

"Oh I'm sorry, I wasn't aware your mom made out with Joey."

Monica sighed as she recalled hearing about that odd instance of Ross being caught making out with Chandler's mom. She shuddered as she nodded.

"Gotcha."

They remained silent for a little while before Chandler continued his ramble.

"Or you know, the fact that my own mother writes erotica."

He put the last word in air quotes and Monica caught herself blushing, avoiding looking at his face. She felt like she had been caught red-handed, even though he had no idea about any of this. Turned out she was a terrible liar when she was drunk.

Chandler glanced over at Monica when she still hadn't replied. She was fumbling with the label of the beer bottle, making a noncommittal sound. It hardly ever happened that Monica was speechless and he intensified his gaze on her, tilting his head.

"What?"

"N-nothing."

He knew her well enough by now to know that she was hiding something. Her cheeks were flushed and she still wasn't looking at him. Suddenly, she jumped off the sofa and opened one of the drawers to the TV console, pulling out a large box.

"How about we play some Twister?"

"Hey hey now, don't sidetrack!"

Monica held onto the box and finally looked over at him, playing dumb. "What?"

"You still haven't replied to my last comment. That's so unlike you."

Monica sighed as she sat back down on the couch, clinging onto the game of Twister in her lap.

"Okay, but don't get mad."

Chandler squinted at her, not liking the direction this conversation was taking.

"So Rachel kept on raving about your mom's work, right?"

He watched as she nervously rambled on while he was still unsure where this was going.

"…so I figured why not check out what all the fuss is about..."

He sat there, dumbfounded as Monica told him she'd wanted to be caught up on things and had thus purchased the infamous Nora Tyler Bing's new book Euphoria Unbound. He couldn't believe his ears, feeling betrayed by his best friend.

"You w-what?"

"C'mon, Chandler! I know you don't want to be associated with her, but that woman is damn talented!"

To his own horror, Chandler noticed that Monica looked just as excited as Rachel when it came to his mother's work of art. He shook his head and put the bottle of beer down, getting up and running his hands through his softly gelled-back hair.

"This cannot be happening."

Monica got up and followed him over to the kitchen, desperately wanting him to calm down again as she pulled on his arm.

"I only managed to read the first few chapters but that is some steamy story."

Chandler stopped in his tracks, looking intently at the brunette. What he hadn't told her yet was that even though he hadn't read any of his mother's stories – and that would hopefully never change – he was aware of the fact that he'd witnessed some of the plotlines used in Nora Bing's works first-hand.

"And yknow, I'm not saying you have to, but maybe it wouldn't hurt for you check out some of her stories. Because she sure knows what kind of lovers women are looking for, if you know what I mean."

That was the alcohol talking now, Monica was sure of it. She blushed a little once she realized what she'd said.

Chandler's eyebrows inched their way up towards his hairline as he stared at Monica, who was leaning against one of the kitchen chairs with one arm, the other akimbo, resulting in a rather challenging stance.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well… you keep complaining to me about your love life and how you can't find the perfect woman. But maybe the women aren't at fault here, just throwing that out there."

He couldn't believe his ears. Was she accusing him of being bad with women? Or even being bad in bed? She really was using his biggest weakness against him.

"Oh yeah? Then how come you're alone on a Friday night, spending your evening half-naked, all dolled up in bed?" He challenged her now, his breath coming in shallow waves.

Within seconds, the infamous Geller glare was gracing her features, the vein close to making an appearance.

"You're the one who barged in here without even bothering to knock!" Her voice raised several octaves again as she pointed her finger at him. He was definitely being reminded of her ultrasonic abilities that she had so gloriously showcased this past Thanksgiving.

"As if I was interrupting anything," he huffed as he rolled his eyes, getting all riled up, knowing it was a combination of the alcohol and being in Monica's presence when she'd reached her maximum competitiveness level. Vivid images of the notorious 'Pictionary Incident' came rushing back to him.

Monica felt her blood boil upon being confronted with Chandler's silly and childish behavior. All she wanted to do was get back at him now, her competitiveness in full play.

"In fact, you were interrupting something!"

Chandler rolled his eyes, challenging her further. "Oh yeah? What?"

He watched as Monica's lip quivered but before she replied, she turned around and stormed into the direction of her bedroom. He stood rooted to the spot, both confused and relieved to be getting a break, when he heard her rummaging through one of her dressers. Before he could overthink this, she was resolutely walking back over to him, a copy of his mother's new novel in her hands which she accusingly pointed at him.

"I was taking lessons from your own mother!" She waved the book into his face and for a second or two he was afraid this would end up in another Pictonary-like scar.

When he noticed that she was breathing heavily, still staring at him, he alternated between looking at the book and then into her blue eyes, trying to comprehend what was happening.

He could feel himself blush, the silence between them slowly becoming awkward when he recalled being face-to-face with her in nothing but her flimsy nightie earlier.

"Oh…"

Monica could feel her heartbeat slow down to a more normal rate again as she dropped her right hand that still held onto the book. It only now occurred to her how she'd wanted to desperately make a point, but instead it had resulted in her making Chandler feel uncomfortable and worthless.

He cleared his throat, avoiding looking at her again before replying in a bitter tone.

"Look, I better go. Leave things to you and my mom, apparently."

Monica bit her lip, not wanting him to leave, but also not forcing him to stay either. When he made his short way over to the front door, she was trying to come up with an apology, but before she could reply, she watched the door click shut. All of a sudden, she was surrounded by the silence of her empty apartment that she had so desperately craved earlier. But now it only reflected her inner emptiness that came with Chandler's absence.