TOW Phoebe Met Chandler

Summary: Monica interviews Phoebe to become her roommate; Phoebe meets Chandler.

A/N: I know, I haven't written any fanfiction in like a month. I'm sorry, but that's because I'm working on a novel (which can be read under the same name on fiction-press . net – without the dashes). This is only to give me a breather from the book. Plus, I was watching Season 7 DVDs and got Phoebe's song, "First Time I Met Chandler I Thought He Was Gay," stuck in my head…which is really irritating since it's only two lines.

Remember, guys, this is before 1994 (where they had the flashback that Joey moved in), so there's no Rachel or Joey.

"I love this place!" Monica yelled, running into her living room from her bedroom. "The closet is freakin' huge!"

Looking at her from hi seat on the couch, Chandler raised an eyebrow. "Mon, you've been here for a month!"

Monica put a hand on her hip. "I know that, but I was organizing it, and there's so much space! I was able to fit in collapsible shelves and a shoe rack!"

"That's what I would need if I moved into a new place," Chandler deadpanned.

"It's not only the closet. It's…it's…it's the whole apartment!" Monica exclaimed, spinning around in happiness. "It's huge, and it's all mine! That TV is mine, that couch is mine, that table is mine…"

Chandler picked up the open can of beer on the side table and hugged it to chic chest. "Just so we're clear, this is mine!" A knock sounded at the door. Chandler kept the beer in his hand and a watchful eye on Monica while he went to answer it.

After opening the door a few inches, Chandler stared. Outside was the strangest woman he'd ever seen. She had long blonde hair she kept in a thick braid. Her clothes were baggy and made Chandler categorize her as a modern-day hippie. A hot pink backpack with magic marker designs scribbled on it was slung over her shoulder. Hanging from her hand was a half-full garbage bag.

She kind of reminded Chandler of that woman from the porn movie he and Ross had watched once. What was her name? Ariel…Flounder…oh, right, Ursula. Ursula Buffay. He knew it was some name from The Little Mermaid.

Since she hadn't spotted him, he quietly closed the door and called in a whisper, "Monica! There's some homeless person in the hallway!"

Monica shushed him as she joined him at the door. "That's Phoebe, the woman I met at the supermarket. She said she gives really good massages for twenty bucks. I felt kind of bad so I said she could give me one. I didn't thinks she'd actually come to my apartment."

"Oh, she did, and she brought her stuff with her." Chandler opened the door again.

Monica glared at him. "Well, of course she brought her stuff with her, Chandler. Where would she have left it?" Rolling her eyes, she put on a cheery smile and greeted, "Phoebe, hi! Um, come on in."

"Hey Monica!" Phoebe walked in, dragging her bag behind her. "Where do you want me to do the massage?" She dropped her bag and backpack on the kitchen floor.

"Um…" Monica paused. For some reason she didn't want this woman in her bedroom. "The living room is fine. I'll lie on the couch."

"Oh, you know, I massage better if I can work from both sides. How about your bed?" Phoebe suggested.

Monica gave Chandler a hard stare. He could tell she didn't want Phoebe in her bedroom, and he was trying to choke back a laugh. Clearing her throat, Monica insisted, "No, not my bed…how about I lie on the floor?"

Phoebe hid a knowing smirk. She had met people like Monica before, and didn't like her one bit. She was one of those, "I'll give you money so I feel good about myself, but I don't want you in my house" types. For the sole purpose of making the woman uncomfortable, Phoebe had to inquire, "Why can't I give you a massage on your bed?"

"Because…" Monica ran over to her room and closed the door. "Because it's a mess in there! It'd probably take the whole half hour for me to clear enough space for me." That had Chandler choking to cover a chuckle that escaped.

Phoebe sent a confused glance towards Chandler, then feigned confusion as she asked Monica, "The whole half hour? I was under the impression that you wanted the hour massage."

"Oh, well…" Monica was about to correct her, but Phoebe seemed so disappointed that she nodded. "Right, silly me. The hour's good."

Phoebe smiled. "Then that'll be another twenty." Looking at Chandler again, who was behind her in the kitchen, she jerked a thumb over her shoulder and guessed, "That's not your husband, is he?"

Chandler shifted uncomfortably at Phoebe's pointed finger. "No, no, I live across the hall. But sometimes it seems like we're married, 'cause she cooks most of my meals and yells at me if I put my feet on the coffee table." Stepping forward, he held out a hand, "Hi, I'm Chandler; I make bad jokes when I'm uncomfortable."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. She had met a lot of people on the street, but no one like him. "Hi, I'm Phoebe. Um, you know, if you're looking for someone, I know this guy down at Penn Station who'll date anybody once…"

Monica didn't even bother to try and hide her giggles as Chandler protested, "Guy? No –"

"Okay, I guess you're a little picky," Phoebe interrupted, annoyed. "There's also this guy who's really sweet, but I have to ask – how much prison time are you all right with? Are you the kind of person who freaks out if someone's been in for three months, or will you date a guy who's running from the law?"

"I…I….n-either!" Chandler stuttered, ignoring Monica's hysterical laughter. "I'm not gay!"

"Really?" Phoebe tilted her head, as if deciding if he was telling the truth or not. "I don't believe you."

"It's not up for you to believe!" Chandler nearly shouted. "I'M NOT GAY! The idea of kissing guys repulses me! There's nothing I love more than looking at a woman's breasts!" He moved so that he was opposite Monica and stared at her breasts. "See? I'm turned on right now!"

Monica stopped laughing and folded her arms over her chest, grateful she was wearing a thick sweater. "You are?"

Calming down, Chandler explained, "Well, not really, but if you were one of the women in Playboy it'd be a different story."

"Ok, ok, I believe you," Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Although I think you're trying to convince me way too hard."

"But…but…" Chandler sighed and fell back on the couch. "I give up."

Monica sighed with pleasure, knowing she was going to tease Chandler about this mercilessly later. "Okay, Phoebe, I'll just lie down…horizontally next to the couch I guess."

Phoebe noted the big picture window. "Um, won't you feel weird being massaged in front of a big window?"

Monica shook her head. "No, not really. The man across from me walks around without clothes on."

Phoebe grinned. "I bet you like that, Chandler."

"I'm not gay!" Chandler repeated.

Laughing, Monica lied down on her stomach, her head near the couch so that she could talk to Chandler. "All right, let's get this over with."

The phone rang, and Chandler picked it up on the first ring. "Hello? Oh, you're answering the flyer…oh, you did already…oh, ok, but you should know you're missing out on a lovely view…no? Ok, bye-bye." He hung up the receiver and opened the sports magazine he had left on the side table the last time he was here.

Monica looked at him. "Well, are you gonna tell me who that was, or am I supposed to guess?"

"Oh, I love guessing games!" Phoebe interjected, beginning to massage Monica's back. "Let me play!"

"Okay then…" Raising an eyebrow at Phoebe, Chandler answered Monica, "It was that woman you interviewed to be your roommate, Janice. She said she found another place, but thanks anyway. You're lucky if you ask me. Her voice…you know that 'nails against a chalkboard' sound?"

"I wasn't going to take her anyway," Monica informed him, "She seemed nice enough, but that laugh…"

"You're looking for a roommate?" Phoebe inquired, eagerness in her tone. "Wait a minute, you're Monica Geller! Yeah, I saw the flyer and was going to reply to it anyway, so this is great!"

Monica and Chandler shared panicked looks before she replied carefully, "Um, yeah, but the apartment is…really expensive. Not just for you, I mean, for anybody. The only reason I'm here is because my grandmother is the one subletting it."

"I got a job at a massage place," Phoebe revealed with ill-concealed pride. "They said I'm really good and will probably get a raise in a few months. I have a lot of money saved up from giving random massages."

"Oh…" Monica trailed off, feeling worse and worse the more Phoebe rubbed her back. Damn, the girl was good. The truth was, if she had the money, there really was no reason she couldn't at least be interviewed. "Ok, then I guess we'll set up an interview."

"Please, I really need a place!" Phoebe begged, unconsciously digging into Monica's back. When Monica let out a yelp of surprise, Phoebe quickly massaged it. "Oh my God I'm sorry! Look, it's just that I really want to get off the streets. I haven't had a decent home since I was fourteen. Being in this place…it would be like living in a pent house. Which I did live in once, but the owner didn't know it."

Monica traded glances with Chandler again. He went back to his magazine, clearly saying he didn't want any part of this decision. Monica sighed. "If you live here, you have to be neat. Well, not in your room – you can be as messy as you want as long as you close the door. In the common area, though, you can only eat in the kitchen…and you can't leave your stuff lying around."

Phoebe winced, her gaze falling on the bags she had dropped on the floor. "Yeah, sorry about that, I promise it won't happen again."

"The room comes already furnished – bed and dresser, with a decent sized closet," Monica went on. "I'll show you when we're done here. Rent's due first of the month. We'll settle exact cost later. Now, you definitely have this job?"

"Yes," Phoebe assured her. "And if you give me a room, I'll give you free massages whenever you want."

Chandler perked up at that. "Hey, I've been looking for a roommate! Will you move in with me?"

"Chandler!" Monica chided, then asked Phoebe, "Okay, what qualities do you have that you think make you a good roommate?"

Phoebe thought for a second, then replied, "I'm really quiet. I'll be at work a lot; you probably won't know I'm here half the time. I'm learning how to play guitar, but I'm used to practicing in Central Park anyway. I promise I won't bother you about anything, and I'll try really hard to remember any rules you have."

Monica and Chandler stared at her. The rude and ditsy Phoebe had suddenly turned sincere and eager-to-please. Something told them that hanging out with Phoebe was going to be very interesting. After a few seconds, Monica put her head in her hands. "Okay, Phoebe, you can move in."

"Oh, yay!" Phoebe squealed, nearly jumping to her feet in excitement. "That's great! Thank you so much…oh! I'm so happy!"

"That's nice…now stop pounding my back!" Monica cried.

"Oh, sorry!" Phoebe immediately let up the pressure. "I promise my massages are usually much better."

Deciding that he had to tell Ross about this, Chandler took his magazine and headed for the door. "Well, congratulations you two, and, Phoebe…nice meeting you."

"See you later," Monica called.

"Yeah, see you," Phoebe echoed, then shouted, "Chandler! Don't forget to tell me how you feel about jail time! Either way I have some guys you who'd love to meet you! But for some you won't be able to date for one to three years."

About to close the door, Chandler thought about protesting, but with a resigned sigh replied, "I can't wait."