This is a new idea I have been playing with based on the Neil Labute play currently in London. In it before he marries Rachel, Ross has a conflict with his own past…he tries to resolve it by going back to the women of his past…in his mind.

These characters are the sole creation of BKC Productions…..

Wedding books covered the apothecary table and presents from Rachel's showers covered the floor. Finally after almost ten years and in his own mind twenty years, Ross was getting married. Yes he had been married before , but now he was marrying the "girl." The one that all others had been measured. Some would surrender to his passion of her , and others would fight to be like her. But it all came down to this.

In his thirty five years on this earth, Ross Geller had dated a lot of women, slept with a lot of them , and married three of them, his college sweetheart, a British girl who he had a whirlwind courtship and his best friend aka Rachel. What still remained a mystery to him was women.

To be the perfect man. That was his quest. Studying evolution did not allow him to become this. It was a time honored journey. One that began in that typing class over twenty years ago. He strived to win the girl, yet the girl didn't notice him.

"Ross? Which one do you like?" asked Rachel. Thanks to this upcoming wedding she had become as blithering a fool as his sister Monica. Weddings had become Rachel's obsession. There wasn't a conversation or a day that would go by that he wouldn't be asked about something he really didn't care about. A man's job at a wedding was to be told where to stand and who to talk to and that was it. If it wouldn't have been her, he would have insulted her and had her in tears, but he couldn't do that , she was his treasure. She was Rachel.

Holding up the salmon swatches, she held them up to the light. Her eye for fashion allowed her to make important decisions about the bridesmaids gowns .

"I kind of am leaning toward this one." she said as she put it on the table. Looking down at it, he gave a look of boredom. He that had a PhD in paleontology, college professor and lecturer, published in professional journals was now thought of as no more than a wedding consultant. "It's nice." he said as he smiled.

"You're patronizing me, you have no interest in this at all. This is your wedding too , you know." she argued.

"Yes it is, my fourth wedding." he yelled.

"Four marriages, three divorces and it looks like you still don't know anything about women." exclaimed Rachel. "I thought you grew up, but it looks like you are still the selfish, jealous , egocentric know it all you were when we broke up." Rachel was tired and seemingly taking most of her wedding frustrations out on her fiancee. "Don't you know what women want?" she asked..

What do women want? Do they want to be loved or coddled? Do they want their freedom or be taken care of ? Maybe they just want to be loved or love whatever they want. Here he was thirty seven years old and father of two, one of them another woman in training. Did he really know what women wanted? Did they want to be satisfied in bed or driven to orgasms? Did they want to be cuddled, talked dirty to, or basically driven to the point their heads would bang into the headboard as the man forced himself into her as some sort of primal need to prove himself as a great lover.

Scratching his head, Ross walked into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and then eyed the wrinkles under his eyes. Thirty seven. He could remember when his father was thirty seven and now he was. He carefully combed through the dark brown roots to see if they had started. Rachel was lucky, she would see any of those tell tale signs of age, and she would go to the store or the beauty salon . Joey had them immediately covered as an actor, but Ross couldn't show the signs of age. He was a man comfortable with his own maleness , but not his masculinity. One time he was around a male who wasn't scared to be sensitive. The thought shook Ross to the very core.

Sensitivity, but isn't there such a thing as being too sensitive? Can you cross the line from sensitive into gay town?

The room was dark , as well as the apartment. Emma was in her big girl bed , as she called it. He quietly opened the door and looked down at the sleeping angel. He said she was pure Rachel. Her angelic look convinced him of that. How could any child that looked so perfect be so devilish when she is awake? That could only be the terrible twos. Ross bent down and kissed his daughter on the cheek and tucked her stuffed animal next to her. Having done that, he crept back toward his own room. Rachel was brushing her hair and genuinely ignoring him.

"Still mad I see." he said. Rachel ran the brush angrily through her hair. "Oh I see we are not talking now."

"You can talk to whoever you like, just as long as it isn't to me." Rachel said. "Right now I don't even want to know you exist." She pulled the sheet over her body and closed her eyes. He pursed his lips and took a breath. Sitting on the edge of his side of the bed, he put his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair. What do women want? He laid his head on the down pillows and then looked over at the woman to his side. He would give this angel, this paragon of women whatever she wanted. If he could only figure out what the hell that was.

Finally the recesses of sleep had taken their toll and the confused professor could for a few hours forget his earthly problems. There was never a better place to escape than in dreams. But this was not to be the case in his mind. The room was dark and yet there was a candle lit in the middle of the room. The room had an old fashioned four poster bed with a white linen canopy. On the top of the sheets were rose petals and by the bed were two tulip stemmed glasses. It was obvious this was a bed of romance and love.

This wasn't his own room. It was a room from the past. A room where he possibly made love . The woman's face was unclear , but she had on a virginal white long nightgown that had her breasts peeking out from behind the cups. Her hair was fanned out on the pillow and it appeared to be a very light shade of blonde. The light illuminated her ivory skin and he immediately recognized her.

"Carol?"