Don't You Want Me, Baby?

Author's Note: This begins at one of the crucial turning points in Ross and Rachel's relationship, at the very end of Series 3/beginning of Series 4, when Ross has to decide whether to enter Rachel's or Bonnie's bedroom.

Just in case anyone doesn't know, the title is taken from the refrain of a well-known song by The Human League.

Disclaimer: The Friends characters do not belong to me, but to Bright, Kauffman and Crane Productions and Warner Bros. Their use is not intended for profit, only for entertainment. I have drawn on some of the dialogue in episode 4,1.

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Chapter 1: Ross Makes a Decision

Ross stood irresolute in the passageway and did some serious thinking. Did he want to start again with Rachel, or did he want to carry on with Bonnie? Against Bonnie was her current baldness, which was undoubtedly a downer, but there was nothing else, really, except that he did sometimes wish her expressions of enthusiasm for sex and readiness to talk about her previous sexual career could be toned down just a trifle. But against Rachel was, first of all, the fact that it was thanks to her that Bonnie was bald. Further, this was not the first time she had tried to sabotage his relationship with another woman. He had realised, thinking it over, that she had done her best to prevent him making love with Julie. It had to be faced: she could be a malicious little bitch sometimes. He could not deny that he still felt a pull towards her, and it had been a definite thrill when she indicated that she still had feelings for him – and he had enjoyed kissing her again, very much. But, but, but … would it be wise to reopen a relationship in which there would always be his night with Chloe there in the background, as a weapon for her to use against him? Despite her attractiveness, despite the long, long crush that he had had on her, despite their past, despite her expressions of feelings for him … perhaps it really was time to move on.

He sighed deeply and opened Bonnie's door, but to his surprise she was not there. What had happened to her? He instantly dismissed as ludicrous a momentary fear that she was with someone else. Joey and Chandler were playing some game with Monica, and while Phoebe could not be ruled out as a possible lover, given Bonnie's known tastes, she was out trying to break into the house of her mom's best friend. Nor had Bonnie come downstairs again; he would have seen her. Coming out slowly into the passageway again, he heard voices from Rachel's room. She must be in there, but why?

The answer became clear when he opened Rachel's door and there they were, Rachel rubbing ointment into Bonnie's scalp. Rachel darted a look full of hope at him; he tried to look neutral in reponse.

"There you are!" he said cheerfully to Bonnie. After a moment's thought, he added, "When you weren't in our room, I wondered where you went."

Rachel froze, her hands motionless on Bonnie's head. Her mouth opened a little, and her lips trembled as if she was about to cry. She drew a breath that was almost a sob. It was very painful for Ross to see, and he turned his head.

"You all right there, Rachel?" said Bonnie, sounding a little concerned.

"Y-yes, I'm, I'm okay," said Rachel haltingly, beginning to rub again. "I, I just thought of something sad all of a sudden, you know how you do, when your mind's wandering?"

"Sure," said Bonnie. "Well, that feels a lot better, thanks a million."

"Oh, y-you're welcome a million," said Rachel, her voice still a little shaky.

"Okay, lover, you ready for bed?" said Bonnie to Ross enticingly.

Ross nodded, unable to avoid grinning. "I'm ready."

"Good," said Bonnie with a wicked little smile. "G'night, Rachel."

"Night," said Rachel, sitting down on her bed.

As Ross followed Bonnie, he could not help looking at Rachel. He could only see her face in profile, but he was shocked by her look of misery.

"Rach …" he said uncertainly.

She turned to him, mouth tight and unsmiling, her eyes suspiciously shiny. "Go after her," she snapped. "Obviously you care more about her than me." She turned her face away again.

"I – " he began, but she hissed, "Get out!" fiercely, adding, "And for God's sake keep it down tonight!"

Looking a bit taken aback, he went. Only when she was sure that he was inside the other room and had closed the door did she finally fling herself down on the bed and give way to the tears that were aching to be shed. It had all been for nothing, then. She had come as far as she felt she could, she had opened her heart to Ross as much as she dared, and she had been rejected. What was she going to do now?

So powerful was her tearstorm that it was soon over, and she lay in a state of near exhaustion, hardly aware of her surroundings. But they came back into focus when she heard noises similar to what had kept her awake the previous night. Whatever Ross's intentions, they had not been proof against Bonnie's determination to let the whole world know she was enjoying herself. Overcome by a fit of rage, Rachel jumped up and started looking for pen and paper. She was going to relieve her feelings by writing Ross a letter. How dare he be kissing her one moment and making love to Bonnie the next, like it had meant absolutely nothing? How dare he give preference to an oversexed slut, who would probably be perfectly happy to sleep with the whole bunch of them, herself included? Suddenly energised, she began to scribble furiously. On and on into the night she wrote, covering page after page, only finally stopping and falling onto the bed, still fully clothed, when it was beginning to get light outside.

But she got less than three hours' sleep before the cheerful cries of Ross and Bonnie as they greeted the morning with more energetic lovemaking awoke her. Moaning, she put her pillow over her head and tried to ignore them and go to sleep again, but it was impossible. When they finally quietened down, her mind was racing,throwing up memories, thoughts, both remembered and imagined arguments with Ross. Eventually, groaning at the need for it – she never liked getting up in the morning – she hauled herself out of bed and went to the bathroom, where she spent so long in the shower that Monica banged on the door and asked if she had died in there. Quickly she towelled off and opened the door.

"Omigod, Rach, you look dreadful!" cried Monica, sounding very concerned, when she saw her. "So … no luck with Ross, then?" Her face was full of sympathy.

Rachel shook her head, just managing to suppress a desire to throw herself on Monica and weep on her shoulder. "He," she took a long breath, "he c-clearly prefers B-b-bonnie."

Monica shook her head in apparent exasperation. "How can he prefer that, that floozie to you?"

Now Rachel did break down. Quickly Monica hustled her into her bedroom and onto the bed, where she folded her into her arms and let her cry on her shoulder, patting her back and muttering things like "There, sweetie, there" and "my poor Rachel" and "Get it all out" comfortingly. When she had regained some control over her voice, Rachel began to bring her up to date, though she kept breaking down. But by the time she had got through, she seemed to have cried herself out.

"Thanks, Mon," she said hoarsely, hugging her very hard. "You are the best friend."

"You've seen me through things," said Monica, smiling at her. "Well, I'd like to get a shower now. After that, what say we throw some breakfast together and then go to the beach? It's a nice day."

Rachel heaved a great sigh, and tried to smile back. "Sounds like a plan," she said, making an effort to sound enthusiastic. Thinking about it as she went back to her own room, she realised that it would, indeed, be better for her to go to the beach than to sit moping in her room, and she found she was unwilling to give Ross the satisfaction of knowing that she cared so much.

As she dressed, her eye fell on the heap of paper on the table. She wandered over and looked at one page, then another. Then, feeling dismayed, she picked them all up and went through them fairly closely. Could she really have written this totally self-absorbed, self-pitying, repetitive, adolescent crap? She knew she had a right to feel aggrieved, but this was ridiculous. With sudden resolution she tore the pages through, needing to divide them in half to do it, then again, and continued to tear, working out her anger at herself as well as Ross as she created a heap of smaller and smaller pieces.

Monica came in just as she had decided that the was enough. "What're you doing, sweetie?" she asked curiously.

"Tearing up a letter I wrote Ross last night," said Rachel frankly. "I read it again, and, oh my God, I was so whiny, so 'how could you treat poor ickle me like this?' Ugh!!! It's time I grew up a little. I'm an adult woman, for Heaven's sake, with a responsible job that I like. I don't need a man to define me."

"Yeah, that's the spirit," said Monica enthusiastically. "And, Rach, if I can just say something: don't give up on Ross yet. I cannot believe this thing with Bonnie will last."

Rachel hugged her. "Thanks for that, Mon, but Ross is gonna have to put in some work to get back in my good books. I mean, he's done things that got me feeling kindly towards him, like helping me to the hospital when I got hurt. But he has so thrown all that away by kissing me and getting me all hopeful, and then dropping me like a stone." She looked thoughtful. "I wonder if Bonnie knows he kissed me."

Monica looked at her worriedly. "Now, Rach, what was all that about growing up? It would be childish to go and tell on Ross. You let him worry about that – and believe me, he will. He's a moral guy, really."

Rachel gazed at her with an obstinate expression for a moment; then her face relaxed. "Okay, Mon, maybe you're right. I promise I won't tell – unless she asks. Now let's get some breakfast. I'm starving."

As they assembled breakfast, Monica filled Rachel in on Phoebe's amazing discovery the previous night, that the woman she had thought was her mom's best friend was in actuality her true mom.

"She's pretty upset about it," Monica said.

Here was something to put her own troubles in perspective, Rachel thought. Suddenly she felt a rush of sympathy for Phoebe, constantly trying to find her family and constantly being frustrated. Better to have a mom like Monica's, better to have parents like her own who split up, than to find out that your mom had abandoned you at birth, when you already knew your dad had deserted you later. When Phoebe appeared, looking rather hollow-eyed, Rachel got up and went to give her a very warm hug, saying how sorry she was. Phoebe looked a bit surprised, but pleased. She was sympathetic when she heard Rachel's news in return.

"That's tough, Rachel," she said, "but you seem to be handling it well."

"You should have seen me before," said Rachel. "I nearly washed Monica away. But I'm all cried out now."

"All cried out?" repeated Chandler as he came into the living room with Joey. "Why, what's the matter, Rach?"

When she saw them looking at her with the same concern that Monica and Phoebe had shown, Rachel could not help feeling a lump in her throat. Her friends could be so good and supportive sometimes. She took a moment to compose herself before replying, and before she spoke Joey snapped his fingers.

"It didn't work out with Ross?" he asked.

Rachel did not quite trust herself to speak; she simply nodded.

"Gee, that's too bad," he said slowly, looking despondent. "It seemed so promising yesterday, I thought."

"Yeah," said Chandler. "Sorry, Rach."

"Okay, no more talk," said Monica. "They'll be down any moment, I bet. Say, do you all want to go to the beach when we've had breakfast? Rach and I were going to."

"Sure," said Joey eagerly. "I want to do some digging."

"No, I just wanna pack and get the hell out of here," said Phoebe morosely. "But don't let me stop you guys."

Just at that moment Ross and Bonnie made an appearance, and with the laudable aim of drawing attention away from Rachel, Joey began telling them about Phoebe, who looked just a bit irritated. But since Joey did not know all that much, she had to take over and was soon explaining everything, to loud expressions of amazement and sympathy from Bonnie and more restrained ones from Ross. Rachel found that she could just about bear to look at them when they were paying no attention to her, and got on with her breakfast unobtrusively. But finally Phoebe went upstairs, and Bonnie turned to her, looking concerned.

"Rachel," she said, "I got the idea from something Ross said that maybe we were … disturbing you? If so, I'm sorry. Ya know, I tend to get carried away when I'm with Ross." She grinned in a way obviously intended to be disarming.

"Well, okay," said Rachel, then groped for something more to say. "I can understand that," was all she could come up with. She let her eyes rest on Ross's face for a moment, then turned away, quickly drained her coffee mug, and got up.

"I think maybe I'll pack first, Mon, before we go to the beach," she said. "Then I won't have to do it when I'm feeling all lazy from lying in the sun."

"Good idea, sweetie," said Monica. "I think I'll do the same."

Rachel went towards the stairs without looking back, but even so she heard Bonnie say, in a low but urgent and so quite audible tone, "I thought you said you two were over!" She did not catch Ross's reply, if there was one, but she could not help smiling a little to herself. In a very minor way, she had had her small revenge, and the best part was, she had not planned it.

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What will happen at the beach – if anything? Remember, once the sequence of events in the series is changed, everything can change.