AN: This is a really short one-piece, and a play off of an earlier piece I did called Echoes of My Father. There are no Finale spoilers, as far as I know, but if there are some, they are unintentional.
Oh, and apparently, I don't own them.
The small white ball sailed swiftly through the air, white against powder blue, floating silently, until gravity wrapped it's arms around it and pulled it toward the earth below.
It hit the worn brown mitt with a thud, before being tossed into the atmosphere once more.
"Yeah, son," Chandler replied, as he followed the ball with his eyes. Upon catching it, he grabbed the ball with his right hand, and tossed it once more toward his eight-year-old son.
"How did you meet Mom?"
"I told you that, Danny, I met her through your Uncle Ross."
"Yeah, but what did you say to her to make her like you?"
"Well," Chandler pondered for a moment, as Daniel tossed the ball toward him again, "I don't think she did like me, at first."
"Really?" Daniel laughed, and a mirthful twinkle lit his blue-green eyes.
"Yeah, well, I was her older brother's friend…and I may have called her…fat," Chandler admitted reluctantly.
"You called her fat?" Daniel replied incredulously, his eyes widening.
The ball sailed between them swiftly.
"Not in front of her! But, yeah," Chandler shrugged.
"This kid at school called Mrs. Radcliffe a big fat witch-with-a-b, and he had to write 'I will not call people names' a hundred times," Daniel smiled.
"Well, it's not nice to call people names…I wasn't very nice back then."
"Then how come Mom likes you now?"
"Well, I guess I got nicer—and I stopped calling people names," Chandler added pointedly.
"Then she liked you?"
Daniel tossed the ball, and it sailed over Chandler's head. Chandler turned, and jogged toward the ball, chuckling.
"Wow, maybe we should move you to the outfield," he said, and tossed the ball again.
"Mom says you can't move me out any farther, because she can't get good pictures of me in the outfield."
"Yes, well, that's why your mother isn't coaching the team," Chandler shook his head, laughing.
There was a short moment of silence, with only the sound of ball on leather filling the air.
"After you got nice, then did you ask her to marry you?" Daniel asked after a moment.
"Not exactly. We were friends first."
"For how long?"
"About ten years."
"TEN YEARS!" Daniel exclaimed.
"Whoa, calm down…we didn't fall in love right away, you know. It took time."
"But ten years is a long time!"
"Yes, that's true, but our friendship is what helped us when we fell in love. We already trusted each other, and we knew a lot about each other. So we were the same, kind of…just without the kissing."
"Kissing is gross, dad!"
"Believe me, you won't always feel that way," Chandler shook his head.
"I don't want to wait ten years."
"Danny, you have plenty of time. You're only eight—" Chandler stopped suddenly, and as he caught
the ball, he held onto it and looked down at his son curiously, "Is this about
"No! Girls are gross!" Daniel said, a bit too emphatically.
"What's her name?" Chandler smiled, as he tossed the ball again.
"Amanda," Daniel admitted reluctantly, "She's really pretty, but she thinks I'm a dork."
"What makes you say that?" Chandler asked softly.
"'Cause she called me a dork," Daniel said darkly.
"Y'know, sometimes girls say things like that, when they like you," Chandler replied.
"She doesn't even talk to me, Dad. And every time I try to talk to her, all I say is 'blechin blankin…'"
Chandler laughed, as he caught the ball and tossed it again.
"Like father, like son, I guess!"
"That's exactly what I used to say to pretty girls. It's hard to talk to them, and sometimes they'll break your heart, but once you find the one you are meant to be with, then you'll forget all about all those other girls—"
Chandler was interrupted, when the sliding glass door opened, and Monica appeared, her face flush from cooking.
"Boys! Dinner's ready! Go wash up!" she called, and then disappeared inside.
Chandler stared at the space his wife had briefly occupied dreamily, then added, "Eventually, you'll find the prettiest girl in the whole world—and you may not know what to say to her—but she'll know exactly what you mean."
"Dad, you're weird," Daniel laughed, as he closed the gap between them.
"Yeah," Chandler extended his arm and ruffled his son's reddish-brown hair, before wrapping his arm around his shoulder, and leading him toward the house, "girls will do that to ya."
AN: Ha, mushy plotless crapola…but ya know…
Enjoy the big finale all!