When you know, you know.

It was what his mother once told him, while he was questioning the meaning of that feeling called love. Her answer baffled him then, and all the years after that, he accepted it as one of the romantic platitudes she wrote in her books.

Until now.

Now he realized it was true. He couldn't elaborate, he couldn't offer a satisfying, rational explanation.

It was a feeling. A certitude. The closest thing to faith.

When you know, you know, and Chandler knew.

When Monica left this morning, he stared at the closed door of her room for a full fifteen minutes. It was melodramatic and possibly cheesy, but he didn't care. There was no point in denying it anymore―every time they had to part, because of life's unfair obligations, he ached inside.

Today was Saturday, and she had to work. Tomorrow would be the big day. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and for the first time in his life, it was a big deal.

In the past, this day usually brought more dread than excitement for him. The one (and last) time he spent Valentine's Day with a woman, it didn't go well. He was haunted by the memory of him getting drunk, sleeping with Janice, and having to break up with her on February 14th. It couldn't get any worse than that.

But this was different, completely different. He and Monica had been together for months now. A few days ago, they declared their love for each other in front of their friends. It wasn't so much a declaration―it just burst out of him, as if he couldn't contain it anymore.

Me being me, Chandler thought, once they were out in the open, he freaked out and to apologize he proposed to her.

He guessed this was the kind of embarrassing story that would be told for years to come. It was likely the story Monica was going to tell their future kids to make them laugh.

Not that they were going to have kids now or in the near future … but someday. He couldn't help smiling at that thought. Yes, he freaked out about marriage and kids, but he knew, he hoped, he would be ready one day.

So tomorrow had to go perfectly. Monica said that she forgave him, and like all their previous fights, they dealt with it and moved on. But he still had something to prove. He wanted to prove to her, to their friends that he could be a mature, good boyfriend. The kind she deserved.

The feelings he had for her were becoming so enormous, nearly debilitating, it terrified him sometimes. Never before did he consider marrying someone to avoid losing them. He had done a lot of stupid things for love before, but for her, he reckoned he might just do the craziest of them all. If she murdered someone and called him to drag the corpse and bury it, he would gladly offer his help. That should be scary and somehow it wasn't.

He spent the week planning their Valentine's Day. Chandler wanted to surprise Monica but he also didn't want to mess up, so he asked Ross for help to pick the perfect present. Ross knew Monica's taste, and above all, he was an expert at picking the right expensive romantic gift.

He made a reservation at Tavern On The Green, a historic, fancy restaurant in Central Park, with a beautiful view and rustic romantic interiors. It was one of Monica's favorite restaurants, and as it turned out, it was also a swing haven.

He had no intention to dance, but he remembered snuggling on the couch with Monica when a Gap commercial with swing music aired on TV. Ever since, the song was stuck in his head, and he even caught her humming it while she cooked.

It was strange. The last few months, Chandler felt like seeing the world through a new lens―it seemed more exciting and exhilarating. He walked down the street and everything would remind him of Monica. Love songs on the radio made perfect sense. When something funny or unusual happened during the day, he almost turned to no one in particular, looking for her, because she was the one person he wanted to make laugh. The one person he wanted to tell everything.

He never felt so alive.

When he passed by the restaurant on his way to work, he thought of her immediately. He knew he had to take her out there. What he wouldn't tell her though, was that he made a reservation for Valentine's Day weeks ago, when their relationship was still a secret and their feelings undeclared.

He was home, sitting in the Barcalounger when Monica finally came back from her shift. His face immediately lit up at her sight. He secretly loved that she came straight to his apartment, still in her work clothes. He found himself doing the same, going home had become synonymous with going home to her.

"Hi, honey," he said, still pleasantly surprised the term of endearment now rolled off his tongue so naturally.

"Hey," she said dejectedly. She sat on his lap, closing her eyes and sighing from tiredness. He offered her a quick peck on the lips, then traveled down to her jaw and her neck, mapping her with kisses.

"Chandler," she either moaned or groaned, he couldn't tell. "I have to shower first, I'm sweaty and I smell."

"Don't care," he responded breathlessly between two kisses.

She lifted his chin, and their eyes met, smiling at each other. He pressed his lips slowly to Monica's cheek, then clasped her hands in his, satisfied when he caught the corners of her lips quirking up.

"So tomorrow," he said softly, as one of his hands went to caress her hair, "is Valentine's Day."

"That's the word on the street."

"Well, I've been thinking. I want to give you the full Valentine's Day experience."

She laughed. "Sweetie, you don't have to. I'm fine with staying in and cuddling together, and doing other stuff," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

He shook his head, smiling impishly and playing along. "We can go out and do other stuff when we come home."

"What did you plan?" She grinned, before her expression changed, putting her hand over her chest. "Please don't take me to the aquarium. I don't want us to be one of those couples who think they're so special going to an aquarium for a date."

Chandler snickered with a frown. "I wasn't going to but good to know."

"I'm fine with going to the movies," she said casually, disentangling from his lap and standing up.

"No, it's Valentine's Day, it has to be special."

"Special? Like a date at the zoo?" She rubbed her fingers together as if studying the option. "That could be fun."

"So the aquarium is a dealbreaker but you want to go to the zoo?" he deadpanned, before ducking his head to evade her. "And you know I can't go to the zoo, the peacock that bit me still hangs out around there."

She leaned to him, holding his face in her hands with a self-satisfied grin. "I would be there to protect you."

"Congratulations, Miss Geller, on destroying the last shreds of my masculinity."

Monica ran her hands under his shirt, exploring his chest and sliding them across the waistband of his pants. "I think your masculinity is just fine, Mister Big."

"You're doing it wrong!" Joey yelled as Chandler was shaving in front of the bathroom mirror.

"How can I shave wrong?"

"You need to shave in the opposite direction of your hair," Joey nonchalantly remarked.

Chandler examined himself in the mirror and lifted an eyebrow at his roommate. "My hair doesn't go in any particular direction."

He rinsed off the stubble and the shaving cream then brought the razor back to his jaw. He stopped a moment, pointing to Joey. "I know how to shave. Can you get out of the bathroom now, please?"

"Just making sure you don't mess up, man."

"I'll be fine, thanks."

After the shaving, Chandler patted a towel on his face, went to his bedroom to pull on a shirt and dress in a dark suit. He found Joey in the living room. "How do I look?"

"You're fidgeting," Joey said.

"I'm not fidgeting."

"Calm down, dude. You look good. What are you worried about? You've been with Monica for months."

Chandler shrugged, straightening his tie.

Joey's eyes suddenly went wide open. "You're not going to propose again, are you?"

"No!" Chandler shouted, before lowering his voice. "I just want the night to go well," he continued, with a small voice.

They were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Monica entered, wearing a long coat over her dress, and Chandler almost jumped out. "I was supposed to get you," he said.

She smiled faintly. "I couldn't wait."

"I have something for you."

Monica paused, her grin growing bigger. "Oh?"

He went inside his room and came out with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other.

"Are you apologizing for something?" she teased.

Chandler gave her a look. "No, nothing to apologize for. Wait—Do I have to apologize for something?" he questioned with a worried look. Monica shook her head, giggling. He relaxed and cleared his throat. "Anyway. This is just what boyfriends do on Valentine's Day. Flowers, chocolates, and there might or might not be a stuffed animal waiting for you by the end of the night."

A smile tugged at her lips, and he got closer to her. "But if you don't want them ..." He made a move to throw them on the couch.

"No, wait! I want them," she said, a sheepish expression on her face.

He hid them behind his back when she reached for them. "A kiss first."

She laughed, then wrapped her arms around his neck, and their mouths met. The kiss soft at first, then needy. It went for a while until Joey coughed to remind them of his presence and they disengaged.

He presented her with the flowers, then whispered to her ear, "To get the chocolates, the password is three words."

She smiled and leaned to say in a breathy voice, "I love you."

"I love you too," he said, kissing her more chastely under Joey's scolding gaze.

Chandler's knee bounced up and down during the taxi ride. Monica reached over, placing a calming hand over there.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I don't want us to be late," he answered, his eyes fixated on the road.

"We won't be," she said softly, coaxing his hand back down and into hers. She squeezed it and he looked up at her, giving her the most genuine smile he could muster.

They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early than their reservation and waited to be shown to their table. She took off her coat and Chandler relaxed slightly. He noticed Monica touching her hair and smoothing her midnight-blue dress.

"You look beautiful. You should wear that color more often," he said.

"You noticed?" she asked with a shy smile.

"Of course."

"Very smooth, Bing," she breathed shakily and he grinned at her flustered answer.

Once seated, Chandler went to inquire about the artist performing; when the waitress answered him, he frowned, running a hand over his hair. He shot a quick reassuring look to Monica before going back to the table.

"Are you sure you're all right? You seem agitated," she said to him.

"Yes, I'm fine," he paused for a moment before sighing. "Actually, no. The night is ruined, there was supposed to be a famous artist playing tonight but apparently, it's canceled and there's some unknown band instead. It's all ruined."

"It's ok, I'm sure that other band must be good," she reassured, before lowering her eyes to meet his. "Chandler, look at me. What's going on?"

Chandler took a deep breath. "Well, you know," he mumbled, before straightening himself in his seat and looking at her with more intent. "I wanted tonight to be special because ... You're used to guys flying you out to Rome or taking you to the theater," he said, with a mocking accent on the last word. "I don't want you to think that you're settling. That we can't be romantic."

"Chandler, what are you talking about?" She shook her head and reached for his hand. "You know Pete was trying to wear me down with those dates but it did nothing for me. As for Richard, we were going to the theater because that was his thing. Do you really think I wanted to go to a Civil War reenactment play?"

He smiled with a bashful lopsided-grin. "I wanted things to be perfect tonight."

"Honey, I want to spend time with you and it doesn't really matter where. That's why I don't need you to take me out to fancy places." She gestured to the rest of the dining area. "It doesn't matter if we stay at home or we go out because we would have fun anywhere." Monica started brushing her thumb back and forth on the back of his hand. "The last months have been the most romantic months of my life," she whispered softly.

Chandler looked up at her glowing eyes and smiling mouth. She genuinely meant it, he realized, with the same surprised look he gave her any time he was shocked to find out this woman actually loved him and wanted to be with him. It still seemed too good to be true, better than his wildest dreams. He bent his head and slowly kissed the smile from her lips. "You're the best girlfriend."

"I know, but the best girlfriend is hungry. Let's order."

An hour and a half later, they finished dinner then leaned back and relaxed for a little while, waiting for dessert.

"I can't wait to give you your presents," Monica said. "Never mind, I'm giving them to you now!" She exclaimed triumphantly.

Chandler smiled at her childlike enthusiasm, while she retrieved two neatly wrapped small boxes from her purse.

He opened the first box to find a purple tie with pink stripes.

"I know you love those ties of yours, I thought you might like it?" she asked, sounding suddenly uncertain. Chandler beamed at her gratefully and opened the second box.

"And I got you a tape of Ernie Kovacs specials so you don't have to stay late to watch reruns."

Chandler had a smile hovering at the corner of his mouth. "I love them," he said, kissing her tenderly.

"Ok, I can't wait for my present!"

Chandler removed a rectangular box from the inside pocket of his jacket, with the Cartier logo on it. Monica starred in mortified surprise at his outstretched hand.

"Oh my ... Chandler, you didn't have to."

He didn't answer, instead, he held the box closer to her, prompting her to open it. Monica swallowed and recovered her manners, she opened it to find a pair of elegant and dainty sterling silver earrings.

"If you don't like them, I'll take you to the store and exchange them," he said uneasily when she didn't immediately react.

"I love them, thank you," Monica answered, her voice almost cracking. She went speechless for a moment until she looked up at him again. "I feel bad. My gifts suck―"

"Your gifts are thoughtful and wonderful," he corrected her.

"I'm usually so good at giving gifts," she frowned. "Not that it's a competition," she amended when Chandler raised an eyebrow at her. "But if it was, I would be the best. I feel so bad."

"Monica, don't. I love your gifts, they're the best gifts anyone has ever given me."

"Really?"

"Are you kidding? It's the best. I didn't think you knew me so well," he said. She tilted her head teasingly at him. "Yeah, okay. You always did."

"I'll get you something better for your birthday. Maybe a new watch? A new computer?"

"Monica, no." He stopped, but then realized she wasn't going to let go. "Look, let's say, next year we don't buy the gifts, we make them."

"Next year?" she said, fighting a smile.

"Yeah."

"Deal."

During dessert, the Swing Kings were introduced in the stage by the spacious dance floor in the large covered terrace, filled with twinkling lights and surrounded by Elm trees outside.

They were looking quietly at the couples dancing and the band playing when Monica asked, "Dance with me?"

"Aren't you aware of my dancing skills?" he countered.

"Pretty please? This song is slow," she said when the music from the band had become a slow, heady version of Wonderful Tonight, setting a sultry mood in the room.

"If you're really going to dance with me, I suggest we drink first," he said, holding his glass of white wine.

"You don't need to get me drunk again, honey. it's very likely I'll sleep with you tonight," she joked, getting up and extending her hand to him.

"Haha. No." Chandler hesitated a moment, then took her hand as they walked towards the dancing area. "I think you need to drink to get you through dancing with me. It will be a painful and dangerous experience."

"I'll take the risk," she whispered when they arrived on the dancefloor.

Smiling, she leaned daintily against him and rested her head on his shoulder, before melting into his arms. He tucked his hand through hers, drawing her close in an unconsciously possessive gesture, and Monica looked pleased immensely.

They swayed for a moment and she gazed up at him, her features soft and warm with gratitude. "Chandler?"

He returned her smile, his thoughtful blue eyes regarding her from beneath half-lowered lids. "Hmm?"

"I read somewhere that you need to make a reservation for this place weeks in advance."

He shrugged, feigning ignorance.

She bit her lip, placing a hand on the nape of his neck and stroked the hair there. "Has anyone ever told you that you are very sweet and very gallant?"

"If I remember correctly, you did. When I walked you to your room in London. But in general, no. Usually, people describe me as very awkward and very clumsy."

"Well, they're wrong."

"Oh come on, you know they're right," he stated with calm finality. "Don't you think I am those things?"

"Not anymore. Not since London. You definitely weren't clumsy that night, if you know what I mean."

"Subtle," he teased, and she nudged him playfully.

Trying unsuccessfully to bite back a smile and slightly embarrassed by her praise, he decided to switch the topic. "We don't need fancy dates every night, but once a month, we should go out and celebrate in style. Maybe on our monthly London anniversary, what do you think?"

Instead of answering, she watched him in speculative silence for so long that he was almost worried for an instant.

"I think it's a great idea," Monica finally said. She held his gaze, with a look he recognized and that never failed to almost knock him out. It was the same way she looked at him when they had told each other 'I love you'.

"Thank you for tonight," she added, bringing him out of his thoughts. "It's the best date I've ever been on."

Chandler's breath caught in his throat.

Maybe it was the words. Her scent. The way she held him close. The look on her eyes and the thumping of his heart. Or all of the above. The realization that she was it for him, that she was the love of his life, washed over him with the certainty of a tsunami.

There was nothing better than this moment, no one he loved more than the woman in his arms.

A few months ago, he didn't quite understand his constant, shattering need for Monica, but now he understood what it was. The moment he admitted he was in love, it all made sense and it wasn't scary or confusing at all.

He knew it now.

She was the last person he wanted to see every night before he went to bed, and the first person he wanted to see every morning when he woke up. This dance would be the first of many, and he knew he wanted all of his future dances to be with her.

The music ended. For a second they remained together; then slowly, they separated. His eyes were twinkling as he pulled her back to him, and kissed her again, with more purpose this time and as passionately as he did the first time.

It was too early to make triumphant statements about the one or forever to her―this wasn't like any past relationship. He couldn't afford to rush into it blindly, foolishly. Too much was at stake. It was to be treated like the world's most precious jewel, with delicacy and extreme care.

They'd take their time for their connection to grow stronger and deeper until it was indestructible.

The right moment would come, but for now, knowing was enough.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I hope you guys aren't tired of my sugar-rush inducing fluff :) Happy anniversary, fellow Mondler fans.

I decided to have Valentine's Day set after TOW The Girl Who Hits Joey for the sake of the story. I hope you don't mind me bending the timeline a little.

Thanks for reading!