A/N: Hey, in this fic Chandler's about 15 or 16. That's all you really need to know. And that I don't own this television show. That too.

Chandler peered out into the hallway, leaning halfway out of his mother's doorway. His mother was probably in the living room, writing her sleazy romance novels, as she was prone to doing ever since his dad ran off a few years ago. But Chandler wasn't taking any chances with a chance meeting in the hallway, now that a half-empty box of cigarettes was clamped in his hand, and a cigarette lighter was peeking out of his jacket pocket.

The coast was clear, and he shuffled quickly down the hallway to the front door. "I'm going to school now!" he yelled, swinging the door open and hefting his backpack on.

There wasn't an immediate response from the living room, and for a few panicked seconds Chandler irrationally thought she had discovered the cigarettes missing already. But she eventually called out, "Lock the door behind you!"

Quickly he slammed the door and hurried down to the corner of the street, fumbling to get a cigarette out of the box. Ross and Monica were already patiently waiting at the bus stop, playing with a Rubik's cube and unwrapping a Twinkie, respectively, but Ross stopped as he saw Chandler approaching. "You actually got them this time?" he asked, disappointment lacing his words slightly.

"You know, some people actually greet each other with "Good morning!" and not "Did you steal that?" in the morning?" Chandler replied cheerfully, putting the cigarette between his lips and lighting it after a few tries. "But, since you asked so politely, yep, I got them!"

"You stole your mom's cigarettes?" Monica asked, shocked. "But cigarettes are bad for you!"

"Meh." Chandler shrugged. "But I look pretty bad-ass to the ladies, right?" he said, coughing slightly.

"Yep, they'll be so impressed when you hack up a lung right in front of them," Ross said. "Come on, seriously, put it out."

Chandler made a face at him. "Put it out!" he repeated in a high-pitched voice. "Ross, you're just jealous because I look so much more—" pause for coughing "—sophisticated than you right now!"

He inhaled a good deal of smoke then, willing himself not to cough again, and blew it out lazily.

"Whatever, Chandler."

Monica picked up her backpack from the ground. "The bus is coming!" she announced.

Chandler quickly held out the cigarette in front of him. "Crap! I can't bring this with me! What do I do with it?"

"Well, that depends," Ross said dryly. "What do sophisticated people do, Chandler?"

Chandler shot him a withering look, then glanced around in the vain hope that an ashtray would have materialized on the sidewalk.

"You should do like they do with matches!" Monica suggested. "Just pinch the end of it and the fire will go out!"

Without really considering it, he reached up and tried to crush the end of the cigarette. "Aaaaugh!" he yelled, instinctively throwing it to the ground. "Aaaaugh!" He quickly fanned his hand in the air, desperately trying to cool his burnt finger and thumb.

Monica started laughing, and as the bus pulled up, Chandler could see the odd looks a lot of the girls were giving him. Ross quickly stomped on the lit cigarette on the sidewalk.

"At least you impressed the ladies," Ross said sarcastically.

"Oh, shut up," Chandler mumbled, face turning bright read.

A/N: This idea came up when my friend Rayyan (also known as Renno13) and I were supposed to be working, but were instead talking about fanfiction in general! Thanks Ray for inspiring this plot bunny! A much better use of our time than tutoring!

Thanks for reading! Reviews are awesome :)