The One With The President
Chapter Eight
By: Jana~
*****~*****
--Hazily, Chandler reached for the phone, it ringing scaring him out of a sound sleep.
"Hmmm, yeah?" he mumbled after fumbling to answer it.
"Where?" he asked, then listened. "Right, ok. - Yes, thank you."
He hung up the phone, then turned on the bedside light, his eyes narrow slits until they adjusted to the sudden brightness.
"Good morning," Monica said with a smile, continuing to pull on her shoes as Chandler moved from the bed.
"That was Phoebe," he muttered as he reached for his boxers, pulling them on before grabbing for his robe.
"Early start to the day," she mused, then jumped a foot when there was a brief knock, then the door swung open.
"Good morning, sir," Ross announced as he entered the room.
"Oh, Ross," Monica said as she jumped from the chair, a sheepish smile accompanying reddening cheeks. "So, sir," she turned to Chandler, "Thank you for letting me sleep on your couch."
Chandler and Ross shared looks before Ross started in.
"They're camped out at every exit!" Ross exclaimed, panicking in his typical fashion.
Chandler rolled his eyes. It was too early for Ross, in his opinion.
"Who's camped out at every exit?" Monica asked, confused.
"The press," Ross replied.
Monica exhaled sharply, "But, why--? How did they--"
"Next time," Ross suggested, "Take a cab, not your own car."
"The press knows my car?"
"Good morning, sir," Joey greeted as he walked into the room. "Mornin' Monica."
"Hi, Joey," Monica returned, dazed by the flurry of activity suddenly around her.
"I think the important thing here is not to appear like we're panicking!" Ross offered, high-strung.
"Too late," Joey muttered with a slight smirk.
"See," Chandler interjected, "I think the important thing is not to be panicking."
"Phoebe is waiting for her, sir," Joey informed, and Chandler nodded.
"Give us a minute?" he requested, and Ross and Joey took their cue and left.
"Did I do something wrong?" she asked regretfully.
"No," he answered as he wrapped his arms around her. "Just Ross being overly dramatic again." He sighed, "I swear, that man should win an Oscar!"
She chuckled. "Next time, I'll take a taxi."
"Or I'll send someone to pick you up," he offered, then pulled back from their embrace to brush the hair from her face, tucking a few stray strands behind her ears. "I had a great time last night."
"Me too," she whispered, suddenly feeling shy.
He kissed her lips softly, then smiled sweetly, "I'll call you later."
She nodded. "Better go before Ross has an aneurysm."
Chandler laughed, "I think we need to switch his coffee to decaf."
"Yeah," she chuckled, "Or someone to slip him a sedative."
As Chandler opened the door, Phoebe came into view.
"Ready?" she asked.
Monica stole a quick glimpse of Chandler one last time before nodding. "Yeah, I'm ready."
*****~*****
--"Hey, Pheebs, is Chandler still in his 3 o'clock?" Ross asked as he approached.
"Yeah," she replied, her expression suddenly showing concern. "What's wrong?"
Not exactly indicating that there was a problem, Ross wondered how Phoebe could have picked up on his worry, and questioned her without saying a word.
She smiled, "You keep forgetting, I'm psychic."
He grinned in return, then handed her a piece of paper. As she read the words on the page, his mood became clear to her.
"Let me see if I can't hurry him along," she said to Ross as she handed the report back to him, then pushed the intercom button for Chandler's office.
"Yes, Ms. Buffay?" Chandler's voice came through.
"Sir," she replied in a neutral, calm tone. "Advisor Geller needs to speak to you on a matter of importance, when you have a minute."
Chandler knew Phoebe, and even though her voice gave away nothing to the man seated across the desk from him, he knew something was wrong.
"Thank you, Ms. Buffay," he said simply, but it was how he said it that clued Phoebe in.
"He's wrapping it up now," she told Ross, quickly pulling out her agenda book.
"How can you tell?"
She chuckled shortly. "I can tell."
Sure enough, a few moments later and Chandler had opened the door, saying goodbye to his appointment as they stood in the doorway, the gentleman shaking his hand courteously.
"Thank you, Mr. President," the man said happily. Obviously the meeting had gone well.
As soon as the man was several paces away, Chandler gestured for Phoebe and Ross to enter his office.
"What's up, Ross?" he waited for Phoebe to shut the door before asking.
Ross cleared his throat, then offered Chandler the paper that had been clutched in his hand. "This just came over the wire, sir."
Chandler read as far as he needed to, then grabbed his winter jacket off the hook in the corner of the room. "Pheebs, cancel my 5 o'clock," he ordered as he slipped one arm into the wool warmth.
"This will be the second time this meeting was cancelled, sir," she informed.
"Can't be helped," he returned, his jacket on and ready to go.
"You're going right now, sir?" Ross asked.
"Ross," Chandler said calmly, "I may not have the best political mind, but my common sense is pretty sharp. And do you know what common sense is telling me?"
"What, sir?"
"That it's a bad idea to have an airline strike at Christmas time."
"Yes, sir," Ross agreed.
"Grab your jacket," Chandler added, then headed for the door.
Ross nodded, "Yep."
When Chandler opened the door, Joey was two steps away, approaching.
Chandler never even paused in his departure, and Joey immediately fell in line with the others.
"We going somewhere?" he asked, watching as Ross jogged away towards his office.
"Yeah," Chandler replied, his mind on the task ahead of him. When he saw Phoebe click off her cell phone, he asked, "My car ready?"
She nodded, "Yes, sir."
Ross joined them again, running to catch up, his jacket in his hand.
"I have the new numbers," Joey informed Ross, rattling the paper.
"We'll do that on the way," Chandler suggested. "Phoebe, go run and get Joey's jacket please?"
"Sure." She was off in a flash.
"What's going on?" Joey asked.
"Trying to avert a massive airline strike," Chandler told him, his stride brisk and consistent.
Joey acknowledged with a nod Chandler didn't see. "So, we're going…?"
"To St. Louis," Chandler informed, the exit and the waiting car outside within view.
Phoebe ran up just as they approached the door, holding Joey's jacket out for him to slip on.
"I'm sending good luck vibes with you," she told Chandler, and he smiled in response.
"Thanks, Pheebs."
After Joey had his jacket on, Phoebe tossed a scarf over his head, wrapping it around his neck. Then she turned to Chandler. "Where's your scarf?" He pulled it out of his pocket and draped it across the back of his neck.
With a motherly instinct, she wrapped it around Chandler's neck as she had Joey, then looked over at Ross, who was way ahead of her, his scarf already on.
She followed them out into the cold, the driver standing at the back passenger door of the car, opening it for the president as he approached.
"Bye, Pheebs," Chandler said as he kissed her forehead, then he climbed into the car.
"Bye, Pheebs," Ross muttered, also kissing her forehead before climbing into the car behind Chandler.
"Bye, Pheebs," Joey said with a smile, kissing her cheek.
"Bye, guys," Phoebe waved as Joey climbed into the car. "Play nice," she added with a smile.
"Yes, Mom," Chandler replied as Phoebe gestured to the driver to close the door.
She watched as the limo pulled away, then shivered, returning to the warmth of the White House.
--Ross looked over the new numbers as Chandler re-read the intent to strike from the major airlines, wanting to be prepared to negotiate.
"Up or down?" Chandler finally muttered after Ross' long extended silence.
"Up, sir," Ross replied, seemingly taken aback.
"Really?" Chandler asked, his attention moving to his advisor. "By how much?"
"You've jumped to a 64% approval rating, sir," Ross informed, his tone showing how significant the increase was.
"Really?" Chandler asked, shocked. He gestured for Ross to hand him the paper, which he did. As Chandler read over the page, his expression changed to confusion. "What is this?" he asked Ross, pointing to a specific portion of the polls.
"Well," Ross struggled for an answer. "Basically, it's what people think about your relationship with Monica."
"This is the portion with the most notable increase in percentages." Chandler scowled. "The only reason people like me now is because I'm dating Monica?"
Ross and Joey shared looks before Ross attempted to answer. "Sir, it's not that simple. The people judge on a lot of deciding factors. People see you as ready to settle down, now that you've been dating her for several months. People in committed relationships seem stable and mature--"
"Who said anything about settling down?" Chandler asked anxiously.
"People just assume--"
Chandler sighed, interrupting Ross. "I don't want the only reason being for people liking me to be based on who I'm dating!"
"Chandler, if you'd just look at the bigger picture for a minute," Ross tried to calm him down.
"Oh no!" Chandler exclaimed suddenly, cutting Ross off.
Joey scowled, "What?"
"I have a date with Monica tonight!" Chandler replied, reaching into his pocket. "I've gotta call her. Let her know I have to cancel."
***
--"Oh my God, Mon, that dress looks so great on you!" Rachel exclaimed as Monica checked out her image in the full-length mirror.
"Really?" she asked. "You don't think it makes me look slutty?"
Rachel half-glared. "That's my dress, Mon."
Monica smiled sheepishly, realizing that her comments sounded like an insult. "Sorry," she apologized, stammering over the words to make it right.
Rachel started to smile, indicating she wasn't as upset as Monica had initially thought.
When the phone rang, Rachel reached for it, letting Monica off the hook, so to speak.
"Saved by the bell," she teased, then offered the caller the standard greeting. "Hello?"
"Rachel?" Chandler asked, recognizing her voice. "Is Monica there?"
"Sure, Chandler, here she is." With a growing smile she handed Monica the phone. "Bet Chandler would love you in that dress," she whispered, and Monica shot her a look before answering the call.
"Hi, sweetie! What's up?"
"Bad news," he told her. "I have to cancel our date tonight."
Monica's face fell slightly. "Oh? How come?"
"I have to go to St. Louis to avert a massive airline strike," he said remorsefully.
"Well," she joked, "If I had a dollar for every time I heard that excuse!"
He could tell by her tone of voice that she was understanding of the change in plans. "Thanks, Mon. You're the best."
"I know," she gloated jokingly. "So, is Ross going with?"
"Yeah," he said as he glanced at his advisor, "And Joey too."
Monica turned to Rachel. "They can't make the date tonight."
Rachel nodded. "Can he talk?"
Monica took her hand off the mouthpiece. "Rachel wants to talk to Ross."
"Sure." Chandler caught Ross' attention with a wave. "Rachel, for you."
"Hi sweetie," Ross said into the phone, turning away slightly from Chandler and Joey, as if that would give him privacy.
"Can't make the date, huh?" Rachel asked, sounding disappointed.
"Yeah, sorry. It can't be helped," he told her. "But I'll make it up to you."
"I would like that," she said flirtatiously. "Have a safe trip," she added seriously.
"We will," he assured her, then they both said their goodbyes by making kissy noises.
Ross smiled at Chandler and Joey as he clicked off the phone, handing it back to Chandler.
"Well, that was just pathetic," Chandler teased, smirking at his smitten friend.
"Yeah, yeah," Ross muttered, ignoring his quip. "Let's get back to the business at hand, shall we?"
"Alright, but I need to hop out up here first," Chandler replied, getting an immediate negative reaction from Ross.
"Hop out?!" Ross exclaimed. "Hop out where?!"
"At the florist up here," Chandler pointed at the sign as it came in view. "Carl," he called to the secret service agent in charge of his safety. "I'm gonna be hopping out up here."
"You're hopping out, sir?" the driver asked.
"No!" Ross snipped. "There will be no hopping out! It's not safe!"
Chandler scoffed. "What do you think, Ross? That there's gonna be some terrorist group in the flower shop plotting my assassination on the off chance that I might stop in?"
Ross stammered as he tried to come up with a suitable argument.
"Look," Chandler interrupted his advisor before coherent words were even spoken. "I broke the date, so I want to get her flowers. That's what gentleman do when they break a date."
"I don't do that," Joey interjected. "In fact, I tell any woman I'm seeing to assume all plans are soft until she receives confirmation from me 30 minutes before the start of the date."
Ross and Chandler both just looked at him in amazement for a second, then Chandler moved to leave the car.
"Come with," Chandler requested of Ross. "Get Rachel flowers! She'll love it!"
Ross watched as Chandler exited the car, the security agent by his side. After a moment's deliberation, he too left the car, deciding that Chandler was right about making it up to the girls with the standard giving of flowers. Joey followed close behind, muttering something to himself about not wanting to sit alone with his thumb up his ass while waiting for the two lovebirds to decide on what and how much to buy.
TBC
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