The phone rings and I wait impatiently for Chandler to pick up, my foot bouncing on the bed.

"Hey," he answers, already knowing it's me.

"Hi honey," I say, my body instantly relaxing, a smile spreading across my face. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know. Just living it up in the Sooner State. How are you?"

"I miss you," I tell him without hesitation.

"I miss you, too," he says softly. "Just another couple of days, though."

"Might as well be forever," I say sadly.

"Hey, what are you up to?" he jumps in, trying to distract me.

"Not much. Just lying on our bed. Naked."

I can practically hear him leap to attention over the phone lines. "Really?" His voice has already dropped an octave.

I scan my body, double checking. "Completely."

"Trying to kill me?"

"Just looking for some good, old-fashioned phone sex. Is that so wrong?"

"No no! It's good. Give me a second to catch up." I can hear the rustle of clothing on the other end of the line and I pull the phone away from my ear, putting it on speaker. I'll probably need both hands for this. "So, uh," he starts, his voice filling the room. "You come here often?"

"Probably don't need foreplay, honey," I tell him, skimming a hand down my torso.

"Fair enough. So…you want to do this manually, or do you have mechanical assistance?"

I chuckle at his choice of words. "Mechanical."

"Whatcha got?"

"The Rabbit," I tell him, grabbing the purple device off the bed next to me, holding it up to the light. It's not surprising guys find this thing intimidating. It certainly doesn't mimic the actions of any man I've known to exist.

Regardless, I hear his breath catch in Tulsa. "That's a good one." He clears his throat. He's always gotten a rush out of watching me do this, and even I have to admit that there's something really erotic about getting myself off in front of him.

"Tell me what you want me to do," I breathe.

"Don't turn it on yet, but rub yourself with it."

Immediately, I bring it down to my pelvis and gently slide it back and forth. It's a poor substitute for my husband, but at least I can hear his voice while I do this.

My breath hitches as it glides over my sensitive flesh. "That's right, baby," he whispers.

I try to focus on his voice, try to pretend his hands are on me—has it really been a little less than a week since we saw each other?

I turn my attention to the toy in my hand, ignoring the part of me that hates trying to live without my husband.

"What next?"

"Turn on the shaft, but not the vibrator."

"What?"

"You heard me. Lowest setting."

I sigh, but do as he says. The device starts to hum quietly against me and I shiver.

"Slowly—very, very slowly—put it inside of you."

I comply, shuddering as I feel the vibrations tingling my inner walls. I remind myself that we used to do this all the time back when we first started dating and were keeping it a secret.

I hear myself moan a little and take that as a good sign.

"Are you moving it?" Chandler's voice pipes up. "You need to move it. In and out, still slowly."

My hand obeys without any conscious effort on my part and I breathe deeply, finding myself turned on, imagining Chandler there on top of me. "Ohhhhhh," I moan, and I can hear him groan in response.

"That's it. Now, turn it up a notch."

My fingers fly blindly to the buttons on the device, turning it to the next setting, feeling it pulsate within me.

"How does that feel?"

"So good," I groan, my eyes sliding shut.

"Do that for a little while. Get yourself worked up."

I bite my lip and my hips start to move a little, matching the rhythm my husband is setting from a thousand miles away.

"Are you touching yourself?" I ask, my voice a little breathless.

"Of course, Mon. I'm all kinds of turned on right now. But what I need you to do now is turn it up again."

"Vibrator still off?"

"Yep. We're gonna wait for that part."

I groan—partly frustrated and partly aroused—but only turn up the speed on the shaft. My toes curl a bit.

"You're so hot—you know that?" he says in to m ear, and I can't help but smile a little; he's always said that to me It doesn't matter how I'm feeling about myself on any particular day—if 'm naked, he thinks I'm hot. Or sexy, or any of the other wonderful, sweet endearments he likes to throw at me. The best part is that I know he means it.

"More," I tell him, my breath coming in shorter gasps. "Please more."

"Turn it up again, and put the vibrator on two."

I press the buttons as quickly as I can, nearly flying off the bed when the vibrations kick in. "God!" I yell out, and I can hear him breathing heavily on the other end of the line. My free hand comes up and grabs at my hair, desperate to hold on to something.

"Touch yourself, baby. Grab your breasts."

I take a hold of myself and moan loudly. "This won't take much longer," I warn him, my chest heaving.

"Good," he groans. "Me either. Turn it up one more time."

I press the control, feeling the vibrations increase and I turn my face into Chandler's pillow, breathing in his smell as a yell rips out of me, my hips moving frantically against the device, my release bittersweet. I can hear him gasping on the other end of the line, and I feel my heart break.

For a few minutes, our bedroom is filled with heavy breathing as we both come back to reality.

"Monica…" I hear him whisper.

I realize the damn vibrator is still buzzing away happily. I pull it out of me, switching it off, before tossing it to the foot of the bed, still frustrated. I grab Chandler's pillow and bury my face in it, only slightly succeeding in muffling the sobs wracking through my body.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

"I just miss you so much," I choke out, pulling up a blanket and wrapping it around my body, suddenly cold.

I hear him sigh and can hear the rustle of sheets as he covers himself, too. "I know." His voice is so sad; my heart breaks just a little more. "This is horrible."

"I'm calling work in the morning and quitting," I say suddenly.

"What? Monica—"

"No, I don't care. No job is worth being away from you like this."

"This is your dream job, Monica," he reminds me.

"You're my dream," I tell him, a fresh batch of tears streaming down my face. "You're the only thing that matters; not some stupid job or some stupid city. If we're not together, then what's the point?"

"Honey, I'm not letting you give up your dream for a job that I hate. I'll only be out here for a year at the most. What are you doing to do when we have to leave Tulsa and find another job?"

I remain silent for a while, sniffling. "Don't you want me out there with you?"

"More than anything," he answers instantly. "I hate being away from you. But you would be miserable out here, and then you'd resent me because you gave up a job you love to live in Nowhere, USA."

"I could never resent you," I whisper. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he says softly. "It really is hell being this far away from you. But, listen—we have less than a year before it's all over. We can do this, Monica. You can do this. You're the strongest person I know."

"I'm not strong without you," I tell him, realizing that it's true. "I don't even know how to be just me anymore. We're Chandler and Monica—I don't know where you end and I begin. You're such a part of me that I…I…I don't know how to be without you. And I don't want to. You're my world."

I can hear his breath hitch on the other end of the line, and I know the distance is getting to him, too. "Mon…"

"We're so much better together than we are apart."

"I know."

"I can hardly sleep without you here," I blurt out.

"I can't sleep, either," he tells me. "At least you have our bed—I'm stuck in a stupid hotel with nothing around me that feels like you."

"I hold your pillow every night. It's the only thing that helps. And I sleep in your shirts."

"Is it wrong that I think the shirt-thing is kind of sexy?"

I let out a watery chuckle. "No, that's okay. Just please don't start sleeping in my shirts."

He laughs softly. "Deal." We're silent for a while, listening to each other breathe. "Look—if you decide you want to quit and come out here with me, I won't turn you away. In fact, I'll be pretty damn happy. But I don't want you do it on the spur of the moment. Think about it long and hard before making that choice, okay? This isn't something you should do because you're upset. And if you decide that Tulsa is what you really want to do, I'll support you all the way. But I think you'll regret it."

I sigh, knowing he's probably right. "I just miss you," I say again.

"I know. I'll be home in a couple of days. We'll lock the door and unplug the phone and ignore the world around us."

"But everyone wants to see you—" I protest.

"Don't care. They can wait. You're my wife—that's way more important than anything else. Our friends will just have to understand."

I snort. "Yeah, right. Have you met the people we know?"

"I know, I know. But maybe one day they'll fall in love so completely that they'll understand how it feels to need to be with the one person who makes you whole."

I feel my eyes fill with tears again, but for a completely different reason this time. "Maybe," I agree. "But I doubt it."

"Doesn't matter—I'm yours until we come up for air."

I reach under my pillow and pull out one of Chandler's t-shirts, tugging it over my head, and instantly feel surrounded by him—it's somewhat comforting. "I love you."

"I love you."

"Will you stay on the phone until I fall asleep?" I ask timidly. "If I can hear you breathing…"

"Of course." I hear him shift in his hotel room, settling down in to bed, and I follow suit, clutching his pillow to my chest. "You gonna be okay, Mon?"

I shrug, even though I know he can't see me. "Yeah. Just another couple of days, right?"

"Right."

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, listening to him breathe in Tulsa.