Daisy Chains

By Lucy Henson, teacherchez@hotmail.com

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Friends characters. However, I do own the plot, the kids, and the poem Daisy Chains.

A/N: This is what might have happened if Chandler and Kathy had never broken up (so C+M never slept together), and Ross and Emily were happily married. Rachel is not in love with Ross. It takes place at what might be season eight.

Two nights before his wedding, Chandler Bing laid in bed, happily listening to the sounds of his wife-to-be feeding their newborn son, Matthew. They were in Matthew’s room, but he was in his own bed. All was right with the world. All his friends were happy – Ross and Emily Gellar were nearing their third anniversary; Rachel Green and Phoebe Buffay had just sold a smash-hit record and had lots of cute guy admirers; Joey Tribbiani had hit the big time about a year ago with his movie – starring Bruce Willis.

Only one friend wasn’t so happy with her life. As Chandler lay happily in his bed, Monica Burke was crying herself to sleep – the same thing she had done for two years now, ever since her husband died. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t as though her eight-month-long marriage with Richard had been happy. The only happy thing about her relationship with Richard was her eighteen-month-old daughter, Daisy, born after his death. But if she didn’t show sadness, her mother thought her an unfeeling hussy – a woman who couldn’t cry for her husband’s tragic death.

Monica was also crying for herself. She couldn’t believe that she was thirty, widowed with a baby daughter. She’d always imagined that at thirty, she would be married, four kids, a dog, and totally happy. Not crying for lost loves at midnight every night. She wanted love, stability, things that a single mom wasn’t likely to get, not in this world anyway. She thought it over, and while thinking, her eyes fell on a poem that Chandler had written for her just days before Daisy’s birth, when she had been feeling very down. She read it, crying for a different reason now.

Daisy Chains

Daisy chains, daisy chains

Mon, they’re just like you

Daisy chains, daisy chains

Wonderful through and through

Daisy chains, daisy chains

They bring good luck to all

Daisy chains, daisy chains

I’ll never let you fall

Daisy chains, daisy chains

Don’t ever be too sad

Daisy chains, daisy chains

Cos that would make me mad

Daisy chains, daisy chains

Your broken heart will mend

Daisy chains, daisy chains

With love from your best friend

Then it hit her. She wanted what Kathy had. Chandler’s wife-to-be had it all. She was going to be Kathy Bing, and she had a happy relationship with the kindest man alive. Monica forgot her sadness as she was consumed by jealousy; little knowing that Chandler’s world was about to be torn in half.

* * *

Chandler was asleep, but Kathy wasn’t. She was wearing her bathrobe over her jeans and sweater, and had a bag hidden in the bathroom. A note for Chandler lay on the table, and a plan lay formed in her mind. As she stepped out of their bedroom, she heard a sound from Chandler.

"Kathy?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, honey?" she asked, keeping her voice neutral.

"Where you going?"

"Bathroom."

"Oh," Chandler grunted, and rolled over. A few seconds later, a gentle snore let her know he was asleep. She stole out of the room, making a detour to the bathroom to get her bag, checked the note, and slipped into her son’s room. A moment later, she emerged, crying. Saying goodbye to Matthew was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do. But she didn’t want to be tied down. She didn’t want to be Kathy Bing, married with a son. Her relationship with Chandler had been pure fun, once they’d got past the whole ‘cheating-on-Joey’ thing. She didn’t love him. How Emily felt for Ross, now that was love. She moved halfway across the world for him, stuck up to her parents for him, that was love. Kathy didn’t feel that, even if Chandler did.

She slipped out of the door, and out of Chandler’s life.

* * *

Chandler was awoken at five by Matthew crying.

"Huh?" he muttered. "Oh, Matthew." He raised his voice. "Kathy? Can you feed him?" He paused, waiting for the expected answer, but it never came. He sighed, and got up to find the baby formula. He didn’t know where it was, understandably, as Matthew had only come home the previous day.

"Shush, baby," he whispered, picking the baby up from the crib. "Hush, Matthew." He rocked him, but the cries didn’t subside. There was only one option, he thought. If Kathy wasn’t there, and a quick search of the apartment proved that, he had to see Monica. She knew all about kids. On his way out, he saw the letter, but there wasn’t time to read it. The baby was crying frantically, so he stuck the letter in the pocket of his bathrobe, and left the apartment, walked across the hallway, and rapped frantically on the door.

"Chandler?" Monica mumbled, as she answered the door. "It’s five a.m." She saw the baby in his arms, and let the two of them in. "Chandler, is he okay?"

"No, no, he’s not," Chandler said, almost crying with frustration as he sat on the sofa. "I woke up and Kathy’s out, and I can’t find the baby formula, and…"

"Calm down," Monica laughed. "First, it doesn’t matter that you don’t have formula, he only wants his diaper changed." Chandler blushed. "Don’t worry, I made that mistake loads of times with Daisy." She paused. "Can you change a diaper?"

"I, uh, that is…" Chandler stalled.

"Don’t worry," Monica repeated. "Here, just follow my instructions." He nodded, and they changed the diaper, Chandler working, Monica telling him what to do.

"Ha!" gasped Chandler as Matthew’s cries ceased. "Wow, I changed my son’s diaper. Wait ‘til I tell Kathy!" Monica nodded sadly as a wail from Daisy’s room reached their ears.

"I’ll get her!" she cried, and raced to the toddler’s room, glad for an excuse to leave the room. Chandler looked at Monica’s retreating back and sighed. Had he made a mistake, proposing to Kathy? He shook himself, reminding himself that they were happy, they had a son. He opened the letter in the moment of quiet, and focused on that.

"No," he whispered, letting the letter fall to the floor. "No." He sank back onto the sofa, crying as hard as his son had done a few minutes previously.

"Chandler?" asked Monica, walking back into the room carrying the small girl, an image of her mother. "What is it?" He indicated the letter, and she picked it up. She shook her head as she scanned it.

"That bitch!" she cried. "How could she do that?"