"Hello?" Rachel answered.

            "Rach?" Monica asked into Chandler's cordless phone.

            "Hey!  Monica!  How is everyone?  Was the baby a girl or a boy?  When are you coming home?"

            "Well, in order, okay, a girl, and I'm not sure.  Listen, some things have happened that no one really foresaw, so I think I'm going to have to stay here longer than I intended," Monica explained, closing the bedroom door.

            "Some things?  Like what?  Chandler and the baby are okay, right?"

            "Yeah, everyone's fine, it's just… remember his girlfriend, Jaime?"

            "Blonde hair, skinny, didn't use a coaster," Rachel supplied.

            "Yeah, that's her.  She took off."

            "What do you mean… took off?"

            "Like, she left the hospital and left Chandler a note telling him not to come after her," Monica explained, rubbing her forehead.  She hadn't been this tired in a long time.

            "She just left?  Her newborn baby?"  Rachel screeched incredulously.

            "Rach, I really can't talk for long, but I told Chandler I'd stick around and help him out with Faith- the baby-"

            "Yeah, of course… so I'll see you in what, like a week?"

            "He really needs me, and I'm not going to leave him in a week, so I don't know when I'll be ready to come back, that's the thing-"

            "He needs you?  Of course he does, but he has everyone else.  Mon, don't make this about something it's not.  You want to stay, you don't have to.  Just bite the bullet and admit to yourself how you feel," Rachel said impatiently.

            "This isn't about me, or him, or feelings that you decided I have… it's about my best friend being abandoned with a two day old baby.  I'd do it for Phoebe, I'd do it for Ross, and I'd do it for you, so it has nothing to do with whatever little fairy tale you've written in your head about him," Monica argued. 

            "Okay, fine, I'm sorry," Rachel said.  "It's just… Mon, it's obvious how much he cares about you."

            "I know.  That's why I have to do this.  He's my best friend.  So listen, I'm going to mail you a check for this month's rent and next month's too… then I guess we'll take it from there."

            "Okay.  What about work?"

            "My next phone call."

            "Okay.  Good luck.  Do you need me to send you anything?" Rachel asked.

            "If you could ship over some of my clothes, that would be awesome, I only packed for two days."

            "Consider it done.  I miss you, hurry up and settle them down so you can come home," Rachel teased.  Monica laughed uncomfortably.  Because it had occurred to her that she finally was home.  She hung up the phone and laid back on the bed, closing her eyes briefly.

 She observed the small room that she'd taken over as her own the night before.  Joey had already moved in with Phoebe the month before, preparing for the time when Jaime and the baby would move in with Chandler.  Joey's old room was bare except for the double bed that took up most of the room.  Chandler had made it up for her with new sheets and lots of blankets, the maroon plaid flannel comforter that was her favorite thing to curl up in at his house lay on top.  Just as she was about to drift off to another fitful sleep, there was a tentative knock at the door and Chandler poked his head in, holding Faith.

            "Can we come in?" he asked. 

            "Of course," Monica said, sitting up. 

            "I finished giving her a bath and put her in the little pajamas you gave her, I wanted to show you how cute she looks in them," Chandler said, embarrassed, passing a lavender cotton onesie-clad Faith into Monica's arms. 

            "She's so beautiful.  She looks just like you," Monica said, pressing her pinky finger to Faith's button nose.

            "You think?" Chandler asked proudly.  "At first I saw mostly Jaime-"

            "No way.  Your eyes, nose and chin, all the way," Monica assured him.  "See?  Look," she began, touching the baby's chin with one hand and tracing Chandler's jaw with her other.  "Same lines here," she said, trailing her hand up Chandler's face to his nose and doing the same to the baby, "And here," she continued, looking up into Chandler's eyes.  She placed her thumbs at the corners of his eyes where they crinkled when he laughed.  "And here… I'd recognize these baby blues anywhere," she said softly.  He reached up and held one of her hands in his own, meeting her gaze.  Her heart rate quickened considerably as he moved his face in to rest his forehead on hers.  Their lips were centimeters apart. 

            "I really appreciate you-" he started

            "Don't thank me," she admonished, licking her top lip in anticipation.  Taking it as a sign, he leaned in further, just as Faith started crying.  Both were jerked out of the moment in remembrance of the baby screaming in Monica's arms.  They laughed nervously.

            "Guess someone's chaperoning," Chandler joked.  Monica stood up and began bouncing the baby around the room. 

            "Yeah.  Well, we keep saying we won't do that, and we always end up right where we said we wouldn't be," Monica rambled.

            "It was probably a bad idea," he agreed.  Faith stopped crying.

            "Yeah.  Listen, I gotta call work and go see if I can borrow some sweats from Phoebe, so…" she trailed off, handing Faith back to him.

            "Okay.  I'll see you in the morning.  And Mon-"

            "I know," she said, giving him a slight smile.  "Night."

            "You kissed???" Rachel screeched into the phone the next day.

            "Almost kissed," Monica corrected.  "Faith cried and we stopped just in time."

            "Just in time for what?  Just in time before acted on something the two of you have been suppressing since, what, the eighties?"

            "Shhh.  It's good that it stopped before it went too far,"

            "Let me ask you something.  How many times have the two of you kissed?"

            "Never," Monica answered.

            "And how many times have you almost kissed?"

            "Counting last night?"

            "Whatever."

            "Once during college… once at a New Years party, but that doesn't really count… the time at the movies… once after he broke up with someone, once after I broke up with someone, and then the time in Boston," Monica ticked off on her fingers.

            "Mon, that's like six almost kisses.  Doesn't that tell you something?"

            "Like what?"

            "Like, don't you want to see what the actual kiss would be like?  Just close the two centimeters between your lips and close your eyes!  Stop over analyzing it," Rachel whined.

            "It's definitely not a good time for anything to happen between us.  Jaime left four days ago.  He hasn't even talked about it yet, we're up all night with the baby, up to our elbows in baby powder and spit up and formula-"

            "How romantic," Rachel interjected dryly.

            "Shut up.  Did you send my stuff?"

            "Yesterday.  Did you call work?"

            "Yeah.  It didn't go well.  Apparently, they can't give their chefs maternity leave when it's not their kid," she said with sarcastic laugh.

            "So what are you going to do?"

            "I'll find another job when I get back.  Do you know how many restaurants are in Boston?"

            "About half as many as are in New York."

            "What's that supposed to mean?" Monica asked.  "I'm not staying.  I'm not."

            "Okay.  Hey, I'm going to be flying home for Thanksgiving in a few weeks… if you're still there, I'll come see you in the city."

            "Okay!  That would be awesome.  We could do Fifth Avenue," Monica said, knowing how excited her friend would be at the prospect of the world's most expensive labels lined up in a long row.

            "Consider me there," Rachel joked.  Chandler walked in with Faith from the park.

            "Hey Mon," he said.  "Oh, sorry babe," he added, indicating the phone.

            "It's all right, it's Rachel," Monica said.

            "Hi Rachel!" Chandler yelled, causing Faith to cry.  "Shit, I gotta stop doing that.  I'm gonna take her over to see Joe and Phoebs," he said, kissing Monica on the cheek.  "Did you call work?"

            "Uh, yeah.  They said to take as long as I need," she lied, covering the mouthpiece. 

            "Wow, that's great.  Okay, come over when you're off," he said, carrying his daughter across the hall.  Monica took a deep breath.

            "Rach?"

            "Two things.  First, liar.  Second, I heard the kiss.  And  the 'sorry babe'."

            "On the cheek.  And I'm only lying for a little bit, until I… tell him.  Listen, I gotta go.  I have to warm up a bottle for Faith.  I'll talk to you soon," she said.  Rachel said goodbye, and she absent mindedly began warming the formula for the baby, thinking about all the things Rachel had said. 

            Why was she lying to Chandler?  But more pressing in her mind was the thought that maybe she did have feelings for him, and if she did, where did she take it from there?  Her mind wandered back to Boston, and the conversation they had after the "almost kiss" experience.

            "Our friendship-" she had begun.

            "Is too important, yeah, I remember," he had finished, irritated.

            "Chandler, this was a decision we agreed on.  More than once," she argued.

            "That's just it, Mon.  More than once.  This keeps happening.  If it isn't supposed to be, then why does it keep happening?"

            "Because… I guess because we're clearly attracted to eachother," she tried.

            "It's more than that.  There's a connection.  I feel it, and I know you do too."

            "I do.  And that's why I'm not willing to risk that, for some meaningless kiss that we both know would turn into more than just a kiss,"

            "Who says it would be meaningless?  It would mean something, Monica," he said.  "It would!" he repeated off her sarcastic look.

            "Maybe it would.  But things would be awkward.  I would get controlling, and you would get commitment phobic, the same things we do in all our relationships.  And who would we have to complain to?  Would I come to you in the middle of the night crying, being like 'Chandler's being such an asshole?" she joked.

            "Joke all you want," he said seriously.  "We both know there's a chance this could work."  She was silent.

            "Yeah, you're right.  There is a chance.  But this morning, I was miserable, and then you came and surprised me, and I was so happy.  I can't gamble that happiness on a chance."  He sighed.

            "Is it always going to be like this?"

            "Maybe.  Maybe not.  I don't know," she said.  "Please don't be angry."

            "I'm not angry.  You make too much sense for me to be angry," he said smiling.

            She made sense.  Yeah, she was always good at that.  Always thinking things through, always… making sense.  She knocked over a framed picture as she reached into the cabinet for a clean baby bib.  The picture was of her and Chandler, taken a few months ago when he had come up for the weekend.  They were out to lunch with Rachel at her favorite outdoor café, and Chandler had his arm draped around Monica's shoulders.  He was wearing her favorite shirt of his, the cobalt blue one that brought out his eyes, and someone must have said something funny because they were both laughing when Rachel snapped the photograph.  She sighed, tracing their outlines in the frame as Chandler threw open the door.

            "Hey!  How's the bottle coming?" he asked as Monica, startled, put down the picture.

            "Good, good.  Coming right up."

            "That's a great picture, isn't it?" he asked with a smile.  "One of my favorites."

            "Yeah… yeah, it's a good one.  I'll be right over with the bottle," she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes.     

            "Okay," he said, flashing her another smile before closing the door.  She sighed and held her head. 

            She didn't know how much longer she could go on making sense.