She clutched at the phone and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hi, it's Mark."

Rachel couldn't conceal her disappointment. "Oh."

"What? Is it my breath?"

"No, sorry, I just thought you were somebody else," she lied, barely listening to him and mumbling a few responses where she thought she should. In fact, she was desperately hoping it would be Ross. After their big, scary fight where she'd told him they should take a break, her stupid pride had stopped her from running down the stairs after him. Which is why she had paced up and down the apartment for twenty minutes calling herself an idiot and was now curled up next to the phone willing her boyfriend to call.

"Rach, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said, the lump in her throat half-choking the words.

"You wanna talk? I can come over."

"No," Rachel said with certainty; it was bad enough that Mark was part of the fight, Ross being crazy jealous of the time she spent with him at work. The last thing she needed was him hovering around making things worse if Ross did call. "Really, no, please, that's OK."

"All right, I'm coming over," Mark said. "And I'm bringing Chinese food."

Suddenly, Rachel felt her temper flare. "I said NO, Mark! What is it with the men in my life who won't take 'No' for an answer? I don't need you here, I don't WANT you here!"

The line was silent for a moment. "Sorry, I just thought..."

"No, I'm sorry, I just..." Rachel sighed. She knew it wasn't fair but she hated him a little bit for coming between her and Ross. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye."

She hung up without waiting for a response, then got up and went to the kitchen. Swiping another bottle of Monica's favorite red, she poured a glass then settled back to staring out the window. 'Just one call, that's all we need,' she convinced herself. 'This is going to be OK.'

"So what are you gonna do?' Joey asked, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the bar.

"What can I do?" Ross said, picking nervously at the label of his beer bottle. "One person wants to break up, you break up."

"No way," Chandler spoke up on his other side. "This is you guys. Call her and work it out."

"Come on, we just had this huge fight," said Ross. "Don't I have to wait a while?"

Chandler felt the sudden urge to Moe-slap Ross in the back of his head. "This isn't like swimming after you eat! Pick up the phone!"

Ross dragged himself off his stool, went to the phone at the back of the bar, slotted in a quarter and dialed. As he waited, not knowing what to expect at the other end, that familiar squirming knot of panic in his belly tightened. The phone barely made it out of the first ring before it was answered.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's me." Ross took the sigh of relief she gave him as a good sign.

"Oh, I'm so glad you called," Rachel breathed.

"Really? I've been thinking," he began, searching for words. "This is crazy. I mean, don't you think we can work on this?"

"I do," she gasped. "Just come home and...wait, where are you?" The background noise was starting to filter through the phone. "Are you home?"

"No, I'm at the Philly with Chandler and Joey."

"You went to a bar? Why?"

He paused, grasping for an answer. "I don't actually know. I guess I was going to get drunk and miserable."

"Ross!" Chloe bounced over to him with a shot glass. "I got you a tequila shot."

"No thanks, Chloe." Ross rolled his eyes at her lousy timing.

"Who's that?" Rachel asked warily.

"Oh, just that girl from the copier place."

"If you want, I can teach you this trick where you lick the salt, take the shot and bite the lime all without using your hands. I'll have to take my shirt off, though," Chloe said, putting the lime wedge face-out between her teeth. She had never made it a secret that she had a little thing for Ross and back when he was free, he used to think she was cute. Rachel had teased him over it, but he'd promised her that she'd gotten much less attractive once he'd discovered how astonishingly dull she was. And he was a paleontologist saying that.

"She's there with you?" Rachel gritted out through her teeth.

"She's not 'with' me," Ross objected. "Chandler and Joey have been sniffing around her all night. And besides, weren't you the one who said we should take a break?"

"So you took that as a cue to go straight to a bar and pick someone up?"

"Oh, you can't be serious." Ross gawped over the phone. "After all the grief you gave me about Mark, are you really trying to get jealous on me for standing in the same bar as a girl?"

"So that's what this is?" Rachel spat back. "Your little revenge play?"

"Wait, what? No, that's..."

"Yeah, got it!" She slammed the phone down, hands shaking, head spinning and heart thumping against her ribs. The phone rang again almost instantly. Rachel, her mind filled with reeling images of Little Miss Copyslut crawling all over her boyfriend, grabbed her jacket and virtually ran out of the apartment. She needed to talk to someone. Monica and Phoebe were out on dates, and anyway she wasn't sure she wanted to put Ross' sister in the middle of this. In a flash, it became clear just how much was at stake; her lover, her home, a friend who was a virtual sister to her, a tight circle that had welcomed and supported her without fail all through the trials of learning to stand on her own two feet. She felt like she had the first day she ran into that coffee house in a rain-drenched wedding dress. She felt alone.

"I have to go home and see Rachel."

"All right, man," Joey smiled. "I knew you two would figure it out."

Ross shook his head. "She heard Chloe behind me at the bar and hung up. Now she won't answer the phone. God knows what she's thinking."

"Hey, Ross," Chloe said. "Wanna dance?"

"No, thanks," Ross said, looking back pointedly at his friends for help.

"I'll dance with you," Chandler offered her. "My go-to is the Wounded Flamingo." He demonstrated by bounce-hopping on the balls of his feet and flapping his wrists back and forth, actually managing to look remarkably like a flamingo with broken wings.

Ross ducked out of the bar while Chandler kept Chloe busy and started looking for a cab, cursing himself for losing his temper again. He needed to get back to the apartment as quickly as possible.

"Ding, dong."

He answered the door to the last person he expected to see, but was somehow not surprised to see her.

"Hi," Mark said.

"Hi," Rachel croaked, eyes red-rimmed and glassy, snow frosted on her hair and shoulders. "Can I come in?"

He stepped aside to let her into the apartment and closed the door behind her.