AN: So I was looking at my list of fics, and noted that the titles of my fics cover almost every letter of the alphabet.  I think my new goal is to cover each and every letter.  I'm currently missing fic titles that start with the letters B, G, J, Q, X, Y and Z.  Any ideas for titles? lol.

Kind of Blue

Blue Eyes Meet Blue

Three Months Later

The warm, acidic liquid burned his throat, and he closed his eyes and tried not to gag as it slid it's way down his chest, and settled in his stomach.

He was never really good at this whole drinking-yourself-into-a-stupor thing.

"I figured I'd find you here."

He didn't even bother to turn around.  He simply stared down at the bar, his head heavy with sorrow and alcohol, his eyes stinging from hidden tears the disembodied voice elicited.

"What are you doing here, Phoebe?"

"Seeing if you're okay. You're not okay, are you?"

Chandler snorted, and looked up at Phoebe with bloodshot eyes.

"I haven't been okay for a long time," he said despondently.

"I saw the article in the paper this morning, and I wondered what you must have been thinking," Phoebe continued.

"Yeah, well…"Chandler shrugged, and signaled the bartender to bring him another.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"I've only had two…three…seriously, Pheebs, why are you here?"

"Ross called off the wedding," Phoebe sighed, and plopped down on the barstool next to Chandler.

"Oh, Pheebs, I'm sorry—"

"Well, you should be!  This is all your fault you know," Phoebe cried harshly, and downed Chandler's scotch.

"What?  How is this my fault?"

"You blew off Ross' sister!"

"So?"

"So!  He thinks you did it because you still love me, and now he's convinced himself that I still love you!"

"But you don't!"

"I know that!  But Ross is—" Phoebe sighed and shook her head, "Ross isn't so sure."

"So…that's why you were looking for me.  Do you want me to talk to Ross?"

"No…well, maybe…but Chandler, I really was worried about you.  I know you love Monica.  I could see it that night up in Boston.  Why did you let her go?"

"Because…you were right, Pheebs.  She deserves better.  She deserves more that I was able to give her."

"Ugh, you are so stupid!" Phoebe cried, exasperated.

"Gee, thanks, sweetheart," Chandler said flatly.

"Chandler, you love her!"

"Yeah, I guess I—"

"And she loves you!  Why are you throwing that away?"

"No, Pheebs, she loved me.  You forget that she's marrying someone else tomorrow!"

"She's not married yet, Chandler, and she shouldn't get married until she knows how you feel!"

"No way, I'm not doing that!  I'm not ruining her wedding by running into the church at the eleventh hour to declare my undying love for her just as the minister asks if there are any objections!"

"Oooh!  You should do that!"

"Phoebe, go…marry your scientist, okay?"

Phoebe smiled, and cupped Chandler's cheek with her hand.

"Don't you see, Chandler?  This was all meant to be."

Chandler smiled, and kissed Phoebe softly.

"I know."

It is the unnatural combination of oxygen, light, and city smog that creates the brilliant display of colors in the dusk skies above New York City.  And the orange glow that filtered its way through the church windows that evening blanketed the room in a warm hue, softening her reflection in the full-length mirror.

Monica ran a flat hand over the satin fabric of her dress, ironing out the wrinkles that no one but her would ever notice.  Her hair sat in a neatly arranged heap on top of her head, curls of ebony cascading down, and framing her face perfectly.

She fumbled with her diamond and sapphire bracelet, shaky hands turning it so that it was just so.

Everything was perfect; everything was fine.

She took a deep breath and lifted her head, her eyes slowly following suit. 

Blue eyes met blue, as she focused on her own reflection.

A solitary, rebellious tear slid down her porcelain cheek, shattering the illusion.

She would never be the same.

Peter Becker had come back into her life at the best and the worst time.  Amazingly, he was still in love with her, even though she'd been the one to break off their short engagement over a year earlier.

Her parents had pressured her into the relationship in the first place—her mother desperate to marry her off, her father glowing at the mere idea that his daughter was marrying a billionaire.

But she never loved Pete, so she followed her heart, and broke it off.

Then she met Chandler.

So much for following your heart.

She'd run into Pete while she was still stinging from Chandler's rejection.  His proposal seemed logical, at the time.

"It looks like rain is coming," Rachel said softly, as she walked into the dressing room.  Now seven months pregnant, Rachel was nearly bursting at the seams, but Monica was sure she'd never seen anyone so radiant—yet so sad, in her life.

"It's not supposed to rain today," Monica whispered, and surreptitiously wiped the tears from her eyes.

"Mon—" Rachel started, then shook her head.

"What?  Tell me Rach," Monica turned, and looked at Rachel.

"I shouldn't," Rachel shook her head, and bit her bottom lip.

"Rachel, it's okay," Monica smiled encouragingly.

"Okay, but don't get mad, okay?"

"I swear I won't."

"I don't think you should do this."

"What?"

"I don't think you should marry Pete.  You don't love him, Mon, and you're getting married for all the wrong reasons."

"Rach—"

"Believe me, Monica, I know what I'm talking about, okay?  I never loved Barry the way I love Joey, and look where it got me!  In two months I'm gonna be a single mother, on my own in New York City!  I lost everything, and for what?  I married Barry so I wouldn't be alone.  Look at me now," Rachel sighed, and a fat tear slid down her cheek.

"Rach, I'm not you, okay?  I know that Pete loves me, and the thing is—"

"But you love Chandler."

"The thing is—Chandler didn't want me.  Pete does.  I may not get another chance to do this."

"That's your mother talking.  You don't have to settle, Monica."

"You know what Rach?  You're right.  But neither do you."

"What?" Rachel blinked, truly shocked that Monica had seemingly relented.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll go tell Pete the wedding is off…if you call Joey and tell him the truth."

Rachel's eyes widened, and she shook her head.

"Rachel—if he loves you, then he's just as miserable as you are.  Call him."

"Fine," Rachel conceded, "but you first."

He just stood there.  He wasn't really sure how long he had been standing there, and in fact, he couldn't quite remember how he had gotten there.  But there he was, standing across the street from The Plaza, watching the traffic whiz by in a haze, watching the sky darken ominously with every second that passed.

Why the hell was he here?

She'd moved on, she'd found love with someone new.  Yet something was keeping him rooted to the ground, hoping to catch just a glimpse of her…wondering if she was thinking of him at all today.

Lightning flashed across the sky, and before he knew what was happening, he was being pelted with heavy rain. 

It figured.

He kept his eyes on the entrance of the hotel, wondering all the while if she was married yet—should he run in and try to stop it?

Suddenly, she appeared in the doorway, clad in a stunning white gown, taking his breath away.

He swallowed hard, and watched her fumble with an umbrella.

She was alone.  Where was her husband?  Where were the guests?

She looked up at the sky, and shook her head.

He suddenly realized he wasn't breathing, and let out a long breath.

She opened the umbrella, and turned toward the taxi queue.  Alone.

Before he could stop himself, he screamed her name.

And time just…stopped.

"Hello?"

"Joey?"

"R-Rachel?"

"Yeah.  H-how'd you know it was me?"

"Are you okay?  Where are you?"

"The Plaza."

"The Plaza?  As in the Plaza hotel?"

"It's a long story.  Look, Joey, there's something I need to tell you, but I can't do it over the phone—"

"I'll be right there."

He hung up before Rachel could reply.

Monica whipped around, her eyes scanning the doorway of the hotel.

"Monica!"

She turned again, trying to figure out where the voice was coming from.  Her eyes fell on Chandler, and her umbrella tumbled from her fingers and her heart leapt into her throat.

He was drenched…and he looked miserable.

"Monica, wait!"

"Chandler, what are you doing here?"

"I—I don't know," Chandler yelled over the rain.

"You heard I was getting married, didn't you?"

"You can't marry him, Monica.  You just…you can't."

"Why not?  You left me, remember?"

"I know…look Monica, you were right, about Phoebe.  She broke my heart when she left me—"

Monica's eyes narrowed, "I've gotta go," she said.

"And I swore I wouldn't let anyone get to me the way she did.  And I almost didn't.  Monica, I thought I was saving you by letting you go.  I thought it was the best thing I could do—for both of us.  It turns out I was wrong."

Tears melded with raindrops, as Monica looked up at Chandler.

"What do you want, Chandler?"

"You.  I want you.  I love you Monica."

"You're just saying that because of Pete!" she yelled over the rain and thunder.

"No—I'm saying it because I'm not afraid to!  I love you!  I love you more than I've ever loved anyone!"

"What about Phoebe?"

"She—she made me see that losing her was the best thing that could have happened to me.  It led me to you."

"I—I don't know what you want me to say!"

"Tell me you love me—or tell me to go to hell—I just…I just needed you to know, that I love you.  I'll always love you Monica!"

"I—wh—it's my wedding day!"

"I know!  I'm sorry!"

"I—"

"Chandler?  What the hell are you doing here?"

Chandler turned to see Joey standing behind him, his brow furrowed.

"Monica is getting married."

"Yeah, and I though we'd agreed that you ruining her day was a really stupid idea!"

"I thought you just said that because it was Phoebe's idea!"

"What?" Monica interrupted.  Chandler turned and smiled sheepishly.

"Dude, I gotta go, Rachel's waiting for me!"

"Wait, how do you know Rachel?" Monica asked.

"How do you know Rachel?" Joey echoed.

"She's my best friend—we went to high school together!"

"What?" Joey and Chandler exclaimed simultaneously.

"Joey?" Joey looked up, as Rachel approached.

"Rachel!"

"Rach, you shouldn't be out here in your condition!"

"This is the married woman you're in love with?" Chandler asked.

"You're in love with me?" Rachel smiled.

"Oh my God, then this is the father of your baby!" Monica cried excitedly.

"What?" Joey yelled, and stepped back.

"Monica!" Rachel yelled.

"Sorry!"

"Y-you said Barry was the father!"

"I lied," Rachel smiled.

Joey grinned, and moved to pull Rachel into an embrace.  He realized shortly that he couldn't reach around her, so he moved to her side, and kissed her tenderly.

"I'm gonna be a father?" he whispered, tears lining his eyes.

Rachel nodded wordlessly, and Joey kissed her again.

"Joey, get her out of the rain," Chandler laughed, and pushed the reunited couple toward the hotel.  His smile faded, when he looked down at Monica.

"Am I in love with a married woman too?" he asked somberly.

"I—" Monica looked down at her hands, then held up her left ring finger slowly, "I called off the wedding twenty minutes ago."

Relief washed over Chandler's face, and he swallowed hard.

"Why?" he asked tentatively.

"Because…I'm in love with somebody else."

"Really?" Chandler smiled shyly, and took a step toward her.

"Really.  His name is Paul, and he's great!"

Chandler's smile faded, and Monica giggled.

"Gotcha," she whispered, as Chandler leaned in to kiss her.

"I still can't believe that your new girlfriend's brother just happened to be engaged to your ex-girlfriend," Joey laughed.

"What about you?  Knocking up my girlfriend's best friend?" Chandler smiled knowingly.

"It is strange," Joey nodded, "So, if you and Monica get married, and Ross and Phoebe get married, then you're gonna be related to your ex-girlfriend."

"Ech, I never thought of it like that," Chandler shuddered, "But I think it'll be okay.  Phoebe and I…we talked, and I think we'll be able to hang out without any…weirdness."

"Really?" Joey arched an eyebrow skeptically.

"Eh," Chandler shrugged, "hey, what the hell do you think those two are doing in there anyway?" Chandler nodded towards the hotel lobby women's restroom.

"Talking about us," Joey grinned and shook his head.

"I think we may have opened a horrible can of worms here, my friend."

"Yeah," Joey sighed, "It's great, isn't it?"

Chandler laughed, as Rachel and Monica emerged from the restroom.

"What are you guys laughing about?" Monica asked with mock-sternness, as Chandler snaked his arm around her waist.

"You, of course," Chandler smiled sweetly.

"Right.  Anyway, we just talked to Ross.  It looks like he and Phoebe are back together—and engaged again."

"So I guess it's happily ever after for everyone then, huh?"

"Not quite," Monica pulled away from Chandler and looked at him crossly, "You never explained why you coming here was Phoebe's idea."

Chandler swallowed and looked at Joey, who shrugged and led Rachel away.

"I…I guess she just wanted me to be happy," he shrugged and smiled feebly.

"Or maybe she was trying to win Ross back?" Monica arched her eyebrow playfully, "I talked to her, she told me everything."

"Oh God, you two aren't going to become, like, best friends or something, are you?"

"Does that scare you, Mr. Bing?" Monica asked flirtatiously.

"You have no idea," Chandler smiled, and kissed Monica softly.

The End

AN: So here's the deal with why this fic took so long.  I had the ending.  It was all done and ready to go.  But the more I worked on the middle portion of the story, the less I liked the ending I had laid out.  So I put it off, because I had no idea where to take it.  I still don't like the ending, but it's better than what I had.  In the original ending, Chandler is killed in a car wreck, Joey and Rachel never get back together, and the only people that end up happy in the end are Ross and Phoebe.  Aren't you glad I changed it?

Review and let me know.