Chandler was firmly resolved to not let another stupid sign catch him unawares. The way they kept happening, always catching them off guard even though they were always on the lookout for them, was simply maddening. Absolutely intolerable. So far they had always managed to explain the signs away or simply ignore them, put up with them and carry on, but he could tell that the strain was beginning to tell on Monica. They had to do something about it. And soon too, before it could happen again. He'd rather that it wouldn't happen at all, or, if it did, that he'd be able to stop it or avert it somehow, but deep down he knew that it wouldn't work. The signs would continue to hit them quite happily and regularly until the moment they chose to do something about it.

Or at least talk about it.

It really was high time they did. Today was Wednesday and they'd been back from Vegas since Monday – actually the anniversary of their return to New York one year ago, when they'd decided to carry on with that crazy one night stand and take it further, first as a secret affair, then as a secret relationship which was eventually converted to an open one, a normal relationship (though he was never quite sure about the 'normal' part). And since then the signs merrily continued to hassle them no matter how far they'd left Vegas behind. Carrying Monica over the threshold in all innocence, getting showered with rice, his assistant asking him if he'd lost his wedding ring (he hadn't even dared to tell Monica about that one), and so on. He couldn't stand it any longer. Enough was enough. As soon as Monica came back from the bathroom and Rachel had finished with that flower bouquet and left them alone, he would have that talk with Monica. Even though now was probably not the best time for it, since she was still bugged and frustrated, and her foot was still hurting her. He was also pretty sure she was due to go on her period too quite soon. All that together could very probably result in his not getting any of that sumptuous plum cake that was still cooling on the kitchen table. Or even anything else. Still it just couldn't be delayed any longer. And if it turned out that talking about it and agreeing that neither of them wanted to get married was not enough and that to stop the signs from happening they actually did have to get married, well, so be it. Surely there were worse things than being married to Monica?

'How about having to divorce her?' Guy #1 said in his head and Chandler gritted his teeth. If there was anything worse than to constantly be exposed to those annoying signs, it must be those annoying voices in his head. Especially when they were right.

For the umpteenth time Chandler wished he hadn't suggested marriage in Vegas. It had been a wonderful idea, and carrying it out had been so crazily exciting and exhilarating, but after the shock of seeing Ross and Rachel doing it in their cups, it had felt like waking up from a dream. A beautiful and enjoyable dream, but nothing more. They had made it through one year by adhering to their baby steps program, and he would not risk everything they had gained in that one year for a crazy heat of the moment idea. It was too precious for that.

Here was Monica, heading for the kitchen while still favoring her bad foot, and Chandler took a deep breath, steeling himself for the talk. It would be dangerous, and risky, and he would have preferred to avoid it altogether, but he really, really, really didn't want another of those signs telling them what they should do - -

And then it happened again, right under his nose as he was watching and quite powerless to do something about it except staring slack-jawed and maybe flailing his arms around helplessly. Rachel had pricked her finger on a thorn and now jumped, reflexively tossing the bouquet over her shoulder and Monica, just as reflexively, not only caught it but went out of her way to do so, gracefully snatching the bouquet out of the air when it hadn't even begun its downward arc, for all the world like a wedding guest eager to be the next in line to get mar—oh for crying out loud.

"Enough already!" As she realized what she'd done Monica looked downright disgusted with herself, but Chandler could have sworn he'd also seen her smile in satisfaction about her dexterity.

"Well, you didn't have to catch them!" he spat, as much annoyed at himself as at her. Why hadn't he seen it coming? Rachel, newly-wed, holding flowers and Monica coming up from behind. How could he have been blind?

"Huh, that's funny." Rachel had recovered from her shock and was watching them with barely concealed glee. "You look like you're gonna be the - -"

"No, don't say it! Don't even think it!" Rachel's jaw dropped when Monica almost jumped at her. Chastened she snatched the flowers from her and then opted for a hasty retreat.

"Alright. Okay Chandler, enjoy your handful ..!"

He would have loved to leave too right then. Get out and don't return until the storm had blown out and the skies had cleared again. Time was he would have done that too, and never mind what that made him. The time before they'd got together. Since then he'd had to deal with everything life had thrown at them, crises, full blown fights, strain, arguments … And he always had. Somehow, he had dealt with it and they had survived. Why shouldn't they survive this time?

"All right, should we just, should we just get married? You know?" There it was, the elephant in the room, the thing they'd been furtively circling ever since they'd left the A Little White Chapel without getting married. "I mean should we just do it? All the signs are telling us to do it!"

Monica had returned to the sofa and was nursing her foot again.

"I'm sick of the signs!" she wailed. "It's too fast, I'm happy the way things are!"

"Me too!" Oh the relief. If only he'd known earlier that she felt the same way about it as he did…

"I don't want things to change! Do you?"

"No!"

Monica now crouched on the sofa, almost yelling at him in her relief. "All right then, then nothing changes! Everything is great! Everything stays the same!"

Except that was not quite all that he heard under her words. And so not what he wanted himself. No change? Everything as before, forever and always?

"And you go unpack because it's been three days and it's driving me insane!"

Okay, that was more like her. Chandler's reaction was as much pure reflex as her stab at nagging.

"Jeez, relax! It's not like we're mar-ah-ah!" He stormed out, completely unnerved all of a sudden. Jesus, those damn slips of the tongue they kept having, on top of all those stupid signs, would they stop too when the signs did? What if they wouldn't?

Then he found himself standing in the hallway, staring at the door of his apartment and feeling as if he had suddenly frozen to the spot.

Nothing changes. Everything stays the same.

But did it have to? Did it?

There had been a major change in his life one year ago. One year ago almost to the day he had stood here, on the very same spot, between their two apartments, wondering if it would really be right to go on with his life as before, pretending that nothing had happened. And somehow he'd found the strength to admit to himself that he didn't want that. That he wanted the change, needed it even. That going on as before was just not an option.

Yes, it was too soon to get married. It was just too big a step. But that didn't mean they had to stand still altogether.

He only realized that he had turned around and re-entered the apartment when Monica looked at him, her expression still wary, as if she half expected him to flat out refuse to unpack. Just like one year ago when she'd turned to him, expectant and yet guarded …

"You know, I was thinking - what if I uh, unpack here?!"

Now she looked confused. "Then all your stuff would be here."

"Well, what if all my stuff was here?"

She frowned impatiently. "Then you'd be going back and forth all the time, I mean it doesn't make any sense."

He'd expected her to be quicker on the uptake, but maybe this was just too big a concept, too unexpected. But no matter.

"Okay. What if we lived together and you understand what I'm saying?"

"Live together?" she repeated, sounding very uncertain. Almost scared in fact. "There have been no signs for that…"

Good lord, did they need signs now for everything? And suddenly it hit him. Of course not. They needed to make their own signs now.

"Me asking is kind of a sign…" he said as gently as he could. And watched her expression change, very gradually, from confusion to still tentative belief and then overwhelming joy as she got to her feet on the sofa and reached out for him.

"YES!" And she jumped at him from the couch just like that, trusting him to catch her, which he did too, unthinkingly, hardly noticing when he almost doubled over from her weight.

"Okay!"

Then she was in his arms, clutching him in a death grip with her arms and legs wrapped tightly around him and he was hugging her to him so hard he could feel her heart hammer under her ribs. When he kissed her he could feel her laughing breathlessly and sniffing from tears at the same time. He wanted the moment to never end, to hold her until they both crumpled to a pathetic heap on her sacred kitchen floor, but all too soon she let him go to stand on her own feet again, her hands still cradling his face.

"Yes! Yes! Okay! Okay! Wait-wait-wait!" she couldn't stand still, almost hopping in place as she tried to process everything his question entailed, her eyes shining madly.

"Okay!"

Monica suddenly darted to the counter and rummaged in the drawer. "Here's your key! Here's your key!"

Right. A key. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

"Oh thanks."

"All right, you have to christen it! Now, go out and come back in!"

Right, because it was so symbolic, if nothing else. "The door hasn't been locked in five years, but okay!" But she was already pushing him out of the door and shutting it, so he could open it. With his own new key no less.

"Ready?!"

He heard her engage the lock. "Ready!" And he turned the key. There was an ominous crack and then he suddenly had half a key in his hand while the other half –

"Okay, a little problem. The key broke in the lock and I can't get in!"

And it had started so well. He heard her try the lock and rattle it in frustration.

"Wait! Oh my God! I can't get out!"

What the hell was going on here?

"This is not a sign!" It had better not be one.

"No, it's not a sign! It's a very old key!" Now she sounded almost desperate. But she was right, now that he looked at the broken off half of the key he could see that it must have been positively ancient.

"It's an old key!"

"Oh my God it's old!" And now she sounded kind of forlorn. And uncertain too. He needed to cheer her up or at least try to, even with the closed door between them.

"I love you!"

Apparently that had been the right thing to say because she said it right back. "Aw, I love you!"

If only he could hug her to him right now, hold her close. She needed that, he could feel it, right through that stupid door between them that was keeping them apart. Maybe if they both pressed close to the door?

"Are you hugging the door right now?"

There was a pause and Chandler realized he'd overshot the mark in his sentimentality.

"No..." Not sentimental at all and suddenly he felt rather ridiculous.

"Yeah-yeah, me neither..!" he assured her hastily while he got up from the floor again and pulled himself together.

"I'm gonna call Treeger!" Monica announced, practical as always and Chandler winced. That florid, blustering super with his leering remarks was the last person he wanted to see right now. Maybe if he tried to get the door open with his credit card? It always worked in all those TV shows, so why not here?

Except the lock wouldn't budge, not matter how hard he tried to wiggle the card around in the crack. Apparently it didn't accept American Express. Or any credit card. Maybe he should try his gym membership card? That was as good a way as any to finally get rid of it.

"What are you doing?" Joey asked, startling him almost into dropping the card.

"The key's stuck in the lock."

"I can fix it. Hold on." Chandler hated the thought of Joey succeeding where he had failed and continued to jiggle his card in the lock, until Joey returned with a screwdriver and a rather smug expression on his face that Chandler hated even more. When Joey elbowed him aside and started to pry at the door he found himself hoping that he wouldn't succeed. When his roommate straightened up again after only the merest wiggle, Chandler tried the door. To his surprise it still didn't give.

"It still doesn't work."

"I'm not finished…!" Joey replied somewhat impatiently and Chandler realized he hated looking like a fool as much as he did. Probably more.

Joey headed back into #19 again, to fetch another tool as Chandler surmised, but no, it was really just to get a running start and throw himself against the door with full force. It worked too, after a fashion – with its hinges broken right off the door crashed into the apartment right in front of Monica who was standing at the counter and could only stare speechlessly as Joey scrambled up again triumphantly.

"Nice job Joe!" Chandler said wearily. "You're quite the craftsman!"

Joey just smirked and patted him amicably as he headed back to #19, with the air of a job well done.

"But ... but I already called Treeger!" Monica wailed, finding her voice again. Joey on the point of shutting the door to his room suddenly froze in his tracks, his eyes widening, and then came rushing out again.

"Treeger? You called Treeger? Why didn't you tell me?"

Chandler shrugged helplessly. "Guess you were too fast for me."

"Nononono!" Joey darted back to the broken door to check the damage on the jamb. "Um, could you just tell him it was burglars?"

"Sure. They crashed the door and after stealing our privacy they left again, through the fire escape maybe. Right. No problem."

"The fire escape!" Joey's eyes lit up. "You're a genius, man!"

"Wait, Joey, no, I've put some towels out to dr- oh my god!"

But Joey had already made his escape, taking half the towels on Monica's clothesline with him. Monica checked the damage and raised her arms heavenward.

"Why? Why is all this happening to us?" When Chandler put his arms around her from behind she whirled around and pushed her clenched fists against his chest. "Why?"

"Sh. Sh. It's over, don't you see? Joey ended it. The door was their last shot and Joey broke it. Now we're free!"

"Really?"

"Yes!" He felt on a roll now. "All the bad things happening, they're done with! Banished from our lives forever! We can start over!"

"Oh my god, you're right!" Monica threw her arms around his neck. "The curse is broken!"

"Literally broken" he agreed, feeling almost giddy with relief. "And we didn't even need to call an exorcist!"

She laughed and pulled down his head to kiss him, but then hesitated, her lips inches from his. "But are you sure?"

"That there'll be no more signs? Of cou-"

"No! About moving in with me. Live here with me."

Chandler stared. "Of course I'm sure. Who wouldn't want to live with you?"

"But … what if – "

"If you clean too much? Or nag me?"

"What if we fight?" her voice suddenly sounded quite small.

"So we fight. What's the big deal? We have fought before, you know."

"Yes, but then you didn't live here."

"There's always the couch, I guess." He grinned wryly. "Or Joey's couch." When she still didn't seem convinced he tightened his arms around her. "We'll find a way. We've been doing this for one year now. We're good at this!"

At this her face lit up and she pumped her fist in the air. "You're right! We are good at this!" And suddenly she pressed against him, almost trying to climb up his chest until he lifted her up with his arms under her thighs and buttocks while she wrapped her legs around him. He wasn't sure if he could make it all the way to the bedroom and decided to aim for the couch first, carrying her over and dropping on it heavily, while they still clung to each other –

"My, my, look at that! In quite a hurry, were you? Forgot that the door was there, did you?"

Oh god, he had completely forgotten about Treeger who had arrived at last, resplendent in shiny new blue overalls and toting his giant toolbox. Chandler for once could only gape at the super like an idiot while Monica hurriedly got up.

"Oh thank you for coming! You see, the key broke in the lock and –"

"Yeah, so you said. But you didn't say the door was broken down." The super unhurriedly eyed the damaged door jamb. "Neat job too. Come to think of it, it looks more like Tribbiani did that. He still around?"

"Um …"

"If you see him, you might want to tell him –"

"Can you fix it?" Monica cut in briskly and when Treeger dubiously wagged his head, "I'll throw in some of that cake!"

Chandler groaned.

.

Much later that evening – or night rather – they were finally alone again. Alone together after Treeger had fixed the door and installed a makeshift bolt in place of the broken lock, and then finally left after devouring nearly half of Monica's cake; alone after Joey who'd been dying for a guy's night with Die Hard and pizza at their place had successfully been staved off and sent to the movies with Rachel instead, thereby killing two birds with one stone. Now all that remained was to somehow entice Monica away from vacuuming the floor and cleaning every single spot where Treeger had worked and left his marks, however invisible to the naked eye they might be. She had to be on her third round if he was any judge and the way she was going it looked like it would take her all night if he didn't stop her.

Stopping her would require a good deal of finesse though. Plus a few good solid convincing arguments. A bit of caution too. And a plan B too possibly. But if done right, there was a chance – a good chance even – that he might succeed.

So he approached her carefully, putting on his most casual air.

"Ummm … hey, roomie …!"

"Huh? Oh, could you get me that other nozzle with the brush?"

"Oh, sure. That one?" As he handed it to her, he let his hand rest on the small of her back, gently brushing up and down.

"Yeah – I'll be done soon. Why don't you watch TV?"

"But I'd rather watch you. Roomie."

"What?" When he put his arms around her, she tried to wiggle out again. "What do you mean –"

"Sh. I really think you've done all you can – with artificial light I mean. I think …" and he squinted at the door critically "yes, I think that for that final finishing touch you really need daylight."

That actually made her hesitate and Chandler mentally patted himself on the shoulder.

"You're sure?" Now she frowned and thoughtfully chewed her lower lip.

"Yes!" he said firmly. "And you need to be rested for it. To have a good night's sleep."

For a moment she seemed to waver, but then she pouted and Chandler groaned inwardly. "But I can't sleep when the job's not finished!"

Alright, plan B. Chandler pulled her close and kissed her on the neck, almost desperate by now.

"We're going to live together!"

"Yes, I know, but …"

"Live together. Alone. Together. You and me. Nobody else but us. Here in this apartment. As a happy couple." For a horrible moment he'd thought he'd said 'married couple' but to his utmost relief that stupid slip of the tongue thing seemed to be over too, and none too soon.

Monica opened her mouth, but no sound came out and Chandler hurriedly brought out his clincher.

"Starting today. As of now."

"But we're not yet –"

"Now. Now's a good time as any, isn't it? Or don't you want to anymore?"

"Of course I do!" Now her gaze softened. "Oh my god, you're right! Yes! We're going to live together!"

He kissed the top of her head, letting his lips wander down her cheek and further down to her neck.

"Yeah, we are. All the time. And we're going to be happy together too."

"You bet we'll be!" Now her eyes were shining and she snuggled against him. "My god, we'll be so happy!"

"And we'll be able to do as we please all the time, because we'll be alone in this apartment, once Rachel has moved out."

"Right, but –"

"So why don't we, you know, rehearse? I mean, see what it will be like?"

"Now? But …"

"Before Rachel gets back would be good too." Monica's eyes widened.

"Oh god, what time is it? Okay, can you help me to put this away?"

"Why don't you leave it? Then you can take up again where you left off. Tomorrow. With daylight." Chandler turned off the light switch and then stooped a little to sweep her up in his arms. "After."

"After what?" she inquired playfully as he hefted her up and carried her bodily through the living room.

"After our first sex as a shacked-up couple."

Her eyes sparkled. "And…?"

"And a good night's sleep."

"And …?"

"After our showering together for the first time after we decided to live together?"

"Oh my. And?"

"More? You want more?" Chandler sighed theatrically. "Alright, how about pancakes from your live-in boyfriend?"

"Oooh. But you have to –"

"- clean the pan after. And the stove. I know. I will." They had arrived at her bedroom door and he carried her to the bed, kicking the door shut with the ease of long practice. When he put her down on the bed Monica tightened her grip around his shoulders and drew his head down to kiss him.

"YES!" she whispered, softly and yet fiercely. "Yes, yes, and yes!"

He had pushed up her shirt and chemise to kiss the skin over her stomach and ribs and suck at her nipples after loosening her bra, and now he raised his head to smile at her tenderly.

"You can be as loud as you like, you know. I mean, now, and when we live together …"

She grinned back, her hands already busy on his pants and the buttons of his shirt, and then took a deep breath and let out an almost fearsome yell. "YES!"

"Alright!" he shouted back and pushed her further up on the bed so he could scramble up and lie on top of her. Dimly he felt her legs wrapping around his middle and her hips grinding at his where his erection already strained against the fabric of his pants. Then she drew his head down to hers almost forcefully and her next scream was stifled by their kiss.

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A/N: *sigh* I guess that's it after all. I still feel there should be one more chapter in Monica's POV, just to make it even (I'm big on balance I guess), but for the life of me I can't think of anything I could add that would fill a whole chapter without using stuff that really needs to be in the next series, and to somehow cobble a small epilogue together just for the purpose of getting another chapter in Monica's POV seems so – silly. And futile too. So I'm putting the break in here at this point, and start the next series in Monica's POV. And who knows, maybe I'll manage a standalone about this very point in their relationship some day. After all, it is one of the most important turning points for them.

Thanks are in order again, for all you awesome people here who talked to me, and/or kept reviewing and favoring/following me, or even just showing me through the traffic stats that my chapters were read every day all over the world, thereby making it interesting and worthwhile for me to keep on writing this. So foremost and especially big thanks to Starbuckmeggie, Chrisi2503, Itsafour, Simplymondler, Fafsernir, SupernaturalMondler, MondlerFanKay, Matteney and last but of course not least Fictionwriter91, and all the others I didn't mention, thank you so much, it's really a great pleasure doing this for you!