Before the Beginning Chapter 3: Ross: Perfection Is As Perfection Does, a friends fanfic

Author's Note: I didn't update this as soon as I had predicted, but this was a really hard chapter to write for some reason. I'm hope you guys like it, and if you do, PLEASE review. PLEASE?

Disclaimer: Only Roger is mine. But honestly, Ross and Carol probably wouldn't be the first characters I'd claim.

Ross: Perfection Is As Perfection Does

Ross couldn't help but smile as he thumbed through the stack of mail he had pulled from the box in his apartment building's lobby. Even after being married for almost three years, the sight of his name linked with his wife's still made him giddy.

He supposed it was a bit old-fashioned, really. But this was all he had ever really wanted. A secure job that he actually enjoyed, a nice apartment perfect for a young couple, and a wife eager to start a family. He liked the fact that his life was predictable and his future looked bright. His nest egg was growing steadily and within a few years, he and Carol should be able to afford a down payment on a nice house just outside the city.

As far as Ross was concerned, all was right in his world. Well, except for some minor concern about his sister, but he was sure Monica was just stressed about moving. He couldn't figure out any other reason she wouldn't want him around. Not that it mattered too much. Between his work and his wife, Ross was sure he wouldn't be seeing a lot of his sister anyway. He was quite content to submerse himself in his promising career and family.

"Mr. Geller?"

Ross jumped at the sound of a voice directly behind him. The stack of mail fell from his hands and scattered over the tiled lobby floor.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Geller! Let me help you," said the voice.

All ready kneeling to pick up the strewn envelopes, Ross turned his head to glance at the owner of the voice.

"That's okay, Roger," he told the elderly security guard. "I've got it. Did you need something?" Ross asked, dusting off his trench coat as he stood.

Roger shook his head. "No, sir. You were just staring into space for so long. I was wondering if something was wrong."

Ross smiled. "No, everything's fine. I was just thinking. Thanks, though."

Roger returned the smile. "Have a good evening, sir."

Ross easily climbed the four flights of stairs that usually left him winded and walked all the way down the hall to number 514, preparing his "Hi honey, I'm home" entrance in his head. He shifted his briefcase from one hand to the other, wishing that he'd stopped to get flowers on the way home. Then he remembered Carol's request that he wait at least a week to bring another bouquet home, seeing as she had filled all the vases and tall glasses and even some old coffee cans.

Ross slid his key in the door and opened the door slowly, glancing around expectantly. Not that he was sure of what he was expecting. He constantly had to remind himself that he didn't live in an episode of "I Love Lucy." First of all, he definitely wasn't Cuban like Ricky Ricardo, and he had yet to see Carol ever doing housework wearing a dress. Actually, he had yet to see Carol doing housework, since they had decided even before they had moved in that they would hire a housekeeper. But Carol still usually beat him home, and most of the time she had managed to get dinner started, so Ross was able to enjoy the illusion of the perfect family living in the 1950s.

'Well, almost perfect,' Ross thought as he entered the apartment. He and Carol had been trying to get pregnant for almost six months now, and it still hadn't happened. During the first month, Ross had substituted home pregnancy tests for flowers, bringing one home nearly every night. Soon, though, he realized Carol's giddiness had turned into amusement, then spiraled downward into depression and soon began to border on resentment. At that point, Ross had decided he had been slightly pushy and stopped immediately, before Carol decided that she didn't want a baby after all.

But they were still trying. The extra bedroom had been coated in a fresh layer of gleaming yellow paint, and Ross had all ready chosen the perfect bassinet during one of his several trips to BabyWorld "just to look."

Still caught up in his baby fantasy, Ross strolled through the apartment, setting his briefcase on the counter separating the kitchen from the living room and tossed his coat in the general direction of the couch. Well, where the couch was supposed to be, anyway.

Too late, Ross noticed the couch had been moved against the wall and in its place was a meticulously set table for two. Carol had used the china and silver they had received as wedding gifts, and one of the many bouquets of flowers around the apartment served nicely as a centerpiece. His wife had even gone so far as to light two taper candles.

CANDLES?

Reacting quickly, Ross dove toward the table in a valiant attempt to snatch his coat before it landed on the candles and sent the whole apartment building into a blazing inferno. He snagged one corner and pulled the coat toward him, dragging a full place setting with it. Now Ross had to decide whether to catch the fragile dishes tumbling toward the floor or to steady the dangerously-swaying candle. He opted for the candle, blowing it out as he straightened it and wincing as the dishes shattered upon impact.

The commotion brought Carol running into the room.

"What happened, what happened?" she asked, her eyes widening in dismay as she took in the scene. "Ross!" she exclaimed.

A guilty Ross stood in the middle of the disaster, still holding the coat that had caused the chaos. "Um…I had a problem."

Carol could only stare in disbelief. Then her eyes filled with tears, and Ross stepped over the broken glass to hug her reassuringly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized, trying to think of anything to say to make his wife feel better. "I was just thinking. I mean, I wasn't thinking. Well, I wasn't paying attention. And I threw my coat on the couch. And the couch…well, it wasn't…and I didn't…and then I saw the candles, and it was either the fire or the plates and so…well, we lost the china."

By this time, Carol was simply looking at her husband, waiting for him to stop babbling nonsensically. Ross finally took a breath and glanced down at his wife to gage her reaction. Surprise—and a vast sense of relief—overtook him as he noted the laughter hinted in Carol's eyes. He offered her a tentative smile, causing Carol to let out a burst of laughter. She pulled away from Ross' embrace, and glanced at the mess again, which only caused her to laugh harder.

Ross was unsure what to do. Had his wife completely gone over the edge?

Carol gestured toward the table. "I searched all over the city today to find the perfect shade of blue candles to match the tablecloth. I wish I'd known that you were only going to use them to attempt to burn down the apartment! To think I could have saved myself four hours and three dollars!" she accused Ross playfully.

Simply relieved that Carol didn't seem upset, Ross decided his best tactic was to laugh along with her, and he knelt to help her clean up the broken dishes.

He took a load of glass to the kitchen and deposited the shards into the garbage can. He walked back out to the living room and watched as Carol vacuumed to rid the carpet of any invisible pieces. As she returned the vacuum to the closet, Ross noted her clothes for the first time. He whistled in approval.

"Wow," he said as she walked towards him. "Who's the special guy?"

"Well, he just happens to be my husband," she replied, reaching up to drape her arms around his neck. "He's a very handsome guy and incredibly sweet, but slightly clumsy."

Ross smiled, and leaned in for a kiss. "I think I might know him," he commented before gently kissing her lips. "What's the occasion?"

At that question, Carol's grin grew huge. "Wellll….," she said, dragging out the word tauntingly. "I was going to tell you over a nice romantic dinner, but since it hasn't exactly gone the way I'd planned…"

Ross felt his heart skip a beat. "Yes?"

"I guess I might as well go ahead and tell you now," Carol told him, still smiling. "But I want to whisper it."

Ross tilted his head toward his wife's mouth, his mouth suddenly dry. He could barely make out the words that Carol whispered over the pounding in his ears, but froze in excited incredulity as the meaning registered.

"I'm pregnant."

TO BE CONTINUED…

Author's Note: I know, I know, I know! It's all off the time sequence. Carol can't be pregnant with Ben yet! You're absolutely right. And you're just gonna have to trust me and keep reading to see where I'm going with this! Oh, and please review before you leave! I'll be your best friend!