"Dammit!" Monica cried, slamming the phone back into the cradle and launching herself across the room. "Dammit, dammit, *dammit*!"
This was insane. This was nuts. This was exactly what she'd always wanted, with just enough stuff changed to make it a living hell. Being pregnant at the same time as her best friend in the world -- how awesome was that? How great would this be, if it wasn't so completely, totally, irrevocably screwed up? She and Rachel crib-shopping, having a baby shower together, letting their kids play in the same little playpen...
Monica paced, digging into her fingernails with her teeth. How in the hell could she tell Chandler now? Especially since it might not even be his baby? And what if it *was*?
"Argh!" she screamed, dropping on the couch and balling up a throw pillow in her lap.
"I didn't do anything *that* bad at my bachelor party," a deep, amused voice said from the doorway.
Monica flushed, then attempted a normal tone. "Hey, honey...!"
Richard threw his keys on the table and approached her warily. "What's up...?"
"Oh, nothing," she said, trying to force her facial muscles into a smile.
"Honey," Richard said, crossing to the bar tray, "If there's something you're stressed about... and not telling me... you might want to consider the possibility that I've already figured it out."
"Huh?" Monica replied, swiveling to face him.
"Well, I'm having a drink," Richard added. "Can I get you something? Milk? Orange juice? Folic acid on the rocks with a twist?"
"How did you know?" she screeched.
"Well, for starters... you might want to hide your tests better," Richard smiled. "You want that milk now?"
"How... how... why are you so calm? How can you possibly be calm?"
"Well, I've spent some time thinking about it," Richard said, crossing into the kitchen. "For you to not come to me screaming with joy the minute you found out, it had to be Chandler's... or maybe Chandler's..."
"It's a maybe, as in very small but still there possibility."
Richard smiled and pressed a bottle of chocolate milk into her hand. "So there you go. And either way, honey... we'll get through this."
Monica merely blinked. "You're not real."
"Oh, but I am," Richard replied. "Last time I checked, anyway. Or did you forget that I *also* have kids that aren't yours?"
Monica wiped away the tears of relief that sprung to her eyes and opened her bottle of milk. "Well, it's actually a lot more complicated. Rachel's pregnant, too."
"Yeah... that does complicate things," Richard agreed, sitting down next to her on the couch.
"I just... I mean, I wanna tell him. I have to tell him. But now that I know about Rachel... I just..."
"You don't want to ruin her pregnancy for what may be no reason," Richard finished.
Monica blinked again. "Yeah. Exactly."
"Well..." Richard sighed. "I did a little research, sweetie. In about three weeks, we could do a paternity test. Chandler wouldn't even have to participate... they could tell just from me and the baby. And if he is the father... *then* we could tell him. I mean, a lot of women don't know until then anyway, right? And if he's not, well, we don't ever have to tell them it was an issue."
Monica clutched her milk and sighed. "That does make sense..."
"Look, here's my opinion," Richard continued. "Let's just not tell anyone you're pregnant at all, not until we know."
"Not tell *anyone*?"
"Just for another month. Then we can have showers and shop for small pastel things, I swear."
"But Richard... I mean... how can I not tell anyone? This is so huge."
"Well hon, let me phrase it this way. The sooner you tell people... the sooner your *mom* is going to know."
"Huh," Monica said, sitting back from the force of dawning realization.
"You're having the baby in... *that* hospital?" Richard keened in a shockingly good Judy Geller impression. "Are you really going to eat *that*? You painted the nursery *that* color? It's... interesting..."
"Yeah, I'm thinkin' I can keep a secret for a while," Monica declared, taking a swig of her milk.
***
"Howdy, neighbor," Phoebe grinned, sneaking up on Joey from behind and kissing his neck. "We still on for tonight?"
Joey turned and took her hands, keeping his voice low. "Yeah, yeah, we are... but... change of plans, okay? We're going out."
"Oooh!"
"Sssh!" Joey said, kissing her on the cheek. "Let's get out of here, okay?"
"What's going on?" Phoebe asked suspiciously as Joey locked the door behind them. "I thought we were gonna rent movies."
"It's Chandler," Joey sighed. "He's havin' a bad night."
"Ohhh," Phoebe replied knowingly. "Did he, uh... did he get some news?"
"You know about the baby, huh," Joey replied.
"Yeah," Phoebe admitted. "Rachel's pretty upset."
"Yeah, well, Chandler's *really* upset."
"Do you think this is going to screw up their relationship?"
"Well yeah!" Joey pushed the outside door open. "I mean, how can Chandler be with Rachel after this?"
"You think he's going to break up with her?"
"Pretty sure, yeah."
"Wow," Phoebe bit her lip. "Wow. That just... that just sucks, so much. Chandler and Rachel never really got a chance to be happy."
"Well..." Joey said sadly. "I guess we're just gonna have to be happy enough for both of 'em."
Phoebe leaned over and kissed him.
"C'mon," Joey said, pulling her hand gently. "Let's talk about something else, right? Have a nice night. I think we're gonna need it."
***
Rachel twisted on the air mattress, trying to get comfortable and failing. She hadn't really expected to have to sleep on this piece of crap... not with her sexy boyfriend and his super-comfy bed about twenty feet away.
Why hadn't he come over?
Did he already know?
She heard the front door click and rolled off the mattress eagerly, brushing her hair into place with her hands as she barrelled into the living room.
"Oh. Hey, Pheebs."
"Hey," Pheebs grinned, arms full of bottles. "Just came for my massage oils."
"Kinky," Rachel said halfheartedly.
"Honey, you okay?" Phoebe set her bottles down on the cardboard box that was serving as their coffee table.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Rachel lied. "Go have the sex."
"I will... in a minute," Phoebe said, moving towards Rachel compassionately. "What are you doing up?"
"Well... my mattress sucks and I... I heard the door open..."
"You thought I might be Chandler," Phoebe finished sympathetically.
"Yeah. Where is he, anyway?"
"He's in his room. He came out to pee once. Other than that... he's been in there all afternoon."
Phoebe moved a piece of Rachel's hair away from her face. "Honey, he knows."
"Oh god," Rachel said, putting a hand over her mouth. "What's he going to do?"
Phoebe's eyes turned vague, and a chill went down Rachel's spine.
"Look, Pheebs... whatever you know... p-please tell me," Rachel stuttered, wiping at her eyes. "This is... this is killing me. If there's bad news, I'd... I'd like to be prepared. Y'know, so I don't..." Rachel's voice cracked, and a tear slid down her cheek. "Do this," she squeaked, fanning at her face.
"Oh, honey," Phoebe cried. "Don't cry...!"
"He's going to break up with me, isn't he," Rachel sniffed, searching Phoebe's face. "Oh god, oh god, he is!"
"He... oh, sweetie... Joey said he thought he would," Phoebe said miserably.
"Well, that's good," Rachel choked. "I mean, good that I know. So when he does it, I can be... I can not be like this, right? I can, I can, I c-can have d-dignity. And stuff."
"Sweetie, I think Chandler's just a little... overwhelmed, right now... not thinking clearly... I'm sure he'll change his mind..."
"Sure, sure," Rachel said, running her middle fingers under her eyelids. "Honey, go, I don't want to mess up your night..."
"You sure you don't want me to stay?"
"Honey, there's..." Rachel took a deep breath. "Nothing and no one could make me feel better right now, okay? I think I need to be alone and think. Go, seriously. It'll make me feel better to know that someone out there is having a good time."
"If you're sure," Phoebe said grudgingly, gathering up her oil bottles.
"I'm sure, honey... go before Joey gets engrossed in Baywatch."
Rachel closed the door after Phoebe, padding to the freezer in her sock feet for the comfort of ice cream.
"Dammit, even the low-fat soy crap ice cream is gone?" she cried, staring at the Boca-Burger-filled, vegan wasteland of the freezer.
The last straw applied, Rachel put her head down on the counter and sobbed.
***
"I don't wanna go," Chandler said stubbornly from the Barcolounger.
"You *have* to go," Joey replied, picking a duck feather off his suit. "Monica's one of your best friends."
"No, I *don't*," Chandler pouted. "*I* am in the Sweatpant Phase! And the *rules* of the Sweatpant Phase *clearly* state that I do *not* have to go to my ex-fiancee's wedding that my cheating, pregnant girlfriend is in!"
"Dude, that is *nowhere* in the rules."
"Well, it should be!"
"Okay, look at it this way," Joey said. "You have twenty seconds to pry yourself outta those sweatpants, offa that Barcolounger, and into a suit before *I* do it *for* you."
"You're bluffing," Chandler said, holding tight to the arms of the recliner.
"Ten... nine... eight..."
"You're so bluffing."
"Four... three... two... okay, I didn't want to have to do this..."
Chandler shrieked as Joey strode over, reached down, picked Chandler up and threw him over his shoulder.
"What the... put me down!" Chandler beat against Joey's back with his fists.
"This is how you wanted it," Joey replied calmly, yanking Chandler's sweatpants off.
"Rape! Rape!"
"Be a man, for god's sake," Joey groaned, carrying Chandler into his bedroom.
"Be a man and let you *strip* me?"
Joey tossed Chandler onto Chandler's bed and crossed his arms. "Be a man, quit whining, get dressed and go to the damn wedding."
"Fine," Chandler snapped, snatching the suit pants Joey had already laid out across the bed. "I'll go. But I'll have you know, I'll be having a big fat childish tantrum on the inside!"
"Fine by me," Joey replied, shutting the door in Chandler's face.
***
"Bride or groom?" the usher asked politely.
"That's an interesting and ironic question," Chandler quipped.
"Bride," Joey interrupted, poking Chandler sharply in the ribs.
The usher led them down the aisle.
"Dude... how come we don't know anybody?" Joey whispered. "Didn't this used to be half your wedding?"
"I had, like, four blue pins," Chandler sighed. "I think everyone we know is *in* the wedding."
"Hey-hey, Carol and Susan, Carol and Susan," Joey hissed. He tapped the usher on the arm. "Yo, we know them, can we sit with them?"
Chandler and Joey slid down the aisle, sitting next to Carol, Susan, and Ben. "Hey, guys."
"Hey," Carol smiled. "How come you guys aren't in the wedding?"
"Well, we were, you know, before," Joey said.
"I actually had a rather large part," Chandler said, earning himself another sharp Joey-poke.
"I'm not really close to Richard, or a relative of Monica's," Joey continued.
"And there were already enough of Monica's ex-boyfriends among the groomsmen," Chandler finished.
"What?" Susan asked.
"Oh, you didn't know? Monica used to date Richard's *son*," Chandler smirked.
"You are being very bad!" Joey shook a finger in Chandler's face. He turned to Susan. "Will you help me make him shut up?"
"Sounds like fun," Susan grinned.
"You know, I think this wedding is actually weirder than ours?" Carol smiled.
"Hey, you have no idea," Chandler replied. "If things had gone as planned, my *parents* would be here."
"Chandler," Joey hissed, poking him in the side again.
"That's not bad! I didn't say anything bad! Quit poking me!"
"Chandler -- your parents *are* here."
Chandler jumped to his feet and whirled in the direction of Joey's pointing finger.
Nora and Charles Bing stood in the doorway.
"Bride or groom?" the usher asked.
"Oh, *groom*," Charles Bing purred, twisting his pearls around a lacquered fingernail. "And do, do take us *right* up front. We're the groom's *parents*."
"His very, very, *very* pissed off parents," Nora Bing added.
This was insane. This was nuts. This was exactly what she'd always wanted, with just enough stuff changed to make it a living hell. Being pregnant at the same time as her best friend in the world -- how awesome was that? How great would this be, if it wasn't so completely, totally, irrevocably screwed up? She and Rachel crib-shopping, having a baby shower together, letting their kids play in the same little playpen...
Monica paced, digging into her fingernails with her teeth. How in the hell could she tell Chandler now? Especially since it might not even be his baby? And what if it *was*?
"Argh!" she screamed, dropping on the couch and balling up a throw pillow in her lap.
"I didn't do anything *that* bad at my bachelor party," a deep, amused voice said from the doorway.
Monica flushed, then attempted a normal tone. "Hey, honey...!"
Richard threw his keys on the table and approached her warily. "What's up...?"
"Oh, nothing," she said, trying to force her facial muscles into a smile.
"Honey," Richard said, crossing to the bar tray, "If there's something you're stressed about... and not telling me... you might want to consider the possibility that I've already figured it out."
"Huh?" Monica replied, swiveling to face him.
"Well, I'm having a drink," Richard added. "Can I get you something? Milk? Orange juice? Folic acid on the rocks with a twist?"
"How did you know?" she screeched.
"Well, for starters... you might want to hide your tests better," Richard smiled. "You want that milk now?"
"How... how... why are you so calm? How can you possibly be calm?"
"Well, I've spent some time thinking about it," Richard said, crossing into the kitchen. "For you to not come to me screaming with joy the minute you found out, it had to be Chandler's... or maybe Chandler's..."
"It's a maybe, as in very small but still there possibility."
Richard smiled and pressed a bottle of chocolate milk into her hand. "So there you go. And either way, honey... we'll get through this."
Monica merely blinked. "You're not real."
"Oh, but I am," Richard replied. "Last time I checked, anyway. Or did you forget that I *also* have kids that aren't yours?"
Monica wiped away the tears of relief that sprung to her eyes and opened her bottle of milk. "Well, it's actually a lot more complicated. Rachel's pregnant, too."
"Yeah... that does complicate things," Richard agreed, sitting down next to her on the couch.
"I just... I mean, I wanna tell him. I have to tell him. But now that I know about Rachel... I just..."
"You don't want to ruin her pregnancy for what may be no reason," Richard finished.
Monica blinked again. "Yeah. Exactly."
"Well..." Richard sighed. "I did a little research, sweetie. In about three weeks, we could do a paternity test. Chandler wouldn't even have to participate... they could tell just from me and the baby. And if he is the father... *then* we could tell him. I mean, a lot of women don't know until then anyway, right? And if he's not, well, we don't ever have to tell them it was an issue."
Monica clutched her milk and sighed. "That does make sense..."
"Look, here's my opinion," Richard continued. "Let's just not tell anyone you're pregnant at all, not until we know."
"Not tell *anyone*?"
"Just for another month. Then we can have showers and shop for small pastel things, I swear."
"But Richard... I mean... how can I not tell anyone? This is so huge."
"Well hon, let me phrase it this way. The sooner you tell people... the sooner your *mom* is going to know."
"Huh," Monica said, sitting back from the force of dawning realization.
"You're having the baby in... *that* hospital?" Richard keened in a shockingly good Judy Geller impression. "Are you really going to eat *that*? You painted the nursery *that* color? It's... interesting..."
"Yeah, I'm thinkin' I can keep a secret for a while," Monica declared, taking a swig of her milk.
***
"Howdy, neighbor," Phoebe grinned, sneaking up on Joey from behind and kissing his neck. "We still on for tonight?"
Joey turned and took her hands, keeping his voice low. "Yeah, yeah, we are... but... change of plans, okay? We're going out."
"Oooh!"
"Sssh!" Joey said, kissing her on the cheek. "Let's get out of here, okay?"
"What's going on?" Phoebe asked suspiciously as Joey locked the door behind them. "I thought we were gonna rent movies."
"It's Chandler," Joey sighed. "He's havin' a bad night."
"Ohhh," Phoebe replied knowingly. "Did he, uh... did he get some news?"
"You know about the baby, huh," Joey replied.
"Yeah," Phoebe admitted. "Rachel's pretty upset."
"Yeah, well, Chandler's *really* upset."
"Do you think this is going to screw up their relationship?"
"Well yeah!" Joey pushed the outside door open. "I mean, how can Chandler be with Rachel after this?"
"You think he's going to break up with her?"
"Pretty sure, yeah."
"Wow," Phoebe bit her lip. "Wow. That just... that just sucks, so much. Chandler and Rachel never really got a chance to be happy."
"Well..." Joey said sadly. "I guess we're just gonna have to be happy enough for both of 'em."
Phoebe leaned over and kissed him.
"C'mon," Joey said, pulling her hand gently. "Let's talk about something else, right? Have a nice night. I think we're gonna need it."
***
Rachel twisted on the air mattress, trying to get comfortable and failing. She hadn't really expected to have to sleep on this piece of crap... not with her sexy boyfriend and his super-comfy bed about twenty feet away.
Why hadn't he come over?
Did he already know?
She heard the front door click and rolled off the mattress eagerly, brushing her hair into place with her hands as she barrelled into the living room.
"Oh. Hey, Pheebs."
"Hey," Pheebs grinned, arms full of bottles. "Just came for my massage oils."
"Kinky," Rachel said halfheartedly.
"Honey, you okay?" Phoebe set her bottles down on the cardboard box that was serving as their coffee table.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Rachel lied. "Go have the sex."
"I will... in a minute," Phoebe said, moving towards Rachel compassionately. "What are you doing up?"
"Well... my mattress sucks and I... I heard the door open..."
"You thought I might be Chandler," Phoebe finished sympathetically.
"Yeah. Where is he, anyway?"
"He's in his room. He came out to pee once. Other than that... he's been in there all afternoon."
Phoebe moved a piece of Rachel's hair away from her face. "Honey, he knows."
"Oh god," Rachel said, putting a hand over her mouth. "What's he going to do?"
Phoebe's eyes turned vague, and a chill went down Rachel's spine.
"Look, Pheebs... whatever you know... p-please tell me," Rachel stuttered, wiping at her eyes. "This is... this is killing me. If there's bad news, I'd... I'd like to be prepared. Y'know, so I don't..." Rachel's voice cracked, and a tear slid down her cheek. "Do this," she squeaked, fanning at her face.
"Oh, honey," Phoebe cried. "Don't cry...!"
"He's going to break up with me, isn't he," Rachel sniffed, searching Phoebe's face. "Oh god, oh god, he is!"
"He... oh, sweetie... Joey said he thought he would," Phoebe said miserably.
"Well, that's good," Rachel choked. "I mean, good that I know. So when he does it, I can be... I can not be like this, right? I can, I can, I c-can have d-dignity. And stuff."
"Sweetie, I think Chandler's just a little... overwhelmed, right now... not thinking clearly... I'm sure he'll change his mind..."
"Sure, sure," Rachel said, running her middle fingers under her eyelids. "Honey, go, I don't want to mess up your night..."
"You sure you don't want me to stay?"
"Honey, there's..." Rachel took a deep breath. "Nothing and no one could make me feel better right now, okay? I think I need to be alone and think. Go, seriously. It'll make me feel better to know that someone out there is having a good time."
"If you're sure," Phoebe said grudgingly, gathering up her oil bottles.
"I'm sure, honey... go before Joey gets engrossed in Baywatch."
Rachel closed the door after Phoebe, padding to the freezer in her sock feet for the comfort of ice cream.
"Dammit, even the low-fat soy crap ice cream is gone?" she cried, staring at the Boca-Burger-filled, vegan wasteland of the freezer.
The last straw applied, Rachel put her head down on the counter and sobbed.
***
"I don't wanna go," Chandler said stubbornly from the Barcolounger.
"You *have* to go," Joey replied, picking a duck feather off his suit. "Monica's one of your best friends."
"No, I *don't*," Chandler pouted. "*I* am in the Sweatpant Phase! And the *rules* of the Sweatpant Phase *clearly* state that I do *not* have to go to my ex-fiancee's wedding that my cheating, pregnant girlfriend is in!"
"Dude, that is *nowhere* in the rules."
"Well, it should be!"
"Okay, look at it this way," Joey said. "You have twenty seconds to pry yourself outta those sweatpants, offa that Barcolounger, and into a suit before *I* do it *for* you."
"You're bluffing," Chandler said, holding tight to the arms of the recliner.
"Ten... nine... eight..."
"You're so bluffing."
"Four... three... two... okay, I didn't want to have to do this..."
Chandler shrieked as Joey strode over, reached down, picked Chandler up and threw him over his shoulder.
"What the... put me down!" Chandler beat against Joey's back with his fists.
"This is how you wanted it," Joey replied calmly, yanking Chandler's sweatpants off.
"Rape! Rape!"
"Be a man, for god's sake," Joey groaned, carrying Chandler into his bedroom.
"Be a man and let you *strip* me?"
Joey tossed Chandler onto Chandler's bed and crossed his arms. "Be a man, quit whining, get dressed and go to the damn wedding."
"Fine," Chandler snapped, snatching the suit pants Joey had already laid out across the bed. "I'll go. But I'll have you know, I'll be having a big fat childish tantrum on the inside!"
"Fine by me," Joey replied, shutting the door in Chandler's face.
***
"Bride or groom?" the usher asked politely.
"That's an interesting and ironic question," Chandler quipped.
"Bride," Joey interrupted, poking Chandler sharply in the ribs.
The usher led them down the aisle.
"Dude... how come we don't know anybody?" Joey whispered. "Didn't this used to be half your wedding?"
"I had, like, four blue pins," Chandler sighed. "I think everyone we know is *in* the wedding."
"Hey-hey, Carol and Susan, Carol and Susan," Joey hissed. He tapped the usher on the arm. "Yo, we know them, can we sit with them?"
Chandler and Joey slid down the aisle, sitting next to Carol, Susan, and Ben. "Hey, guys."
"Hey," Carol smiled. "How come you guys aren't in the wedding?"
"Well, we were, you know, before," Joey said.
"I actually had a rather large part," Chandler said, earning himself another sharp Joey-poke.
"I'm not really close to Richard, or a relative of Monica's," Joey continued.
"And there were already enough of Monica's ex-boyfriends among the groomsmen," Chandler finished.
"What?" Susan asked.
"Oh, you didn't know? Monica used to date Richard's *son*," Chandler smirked.
"You are being very bad!" Joey shook a finger in Chandler's face. He turned to Susan. "Will you help me make him shut up?"
"Sounds like fun," Susan grinned.
"You know, I think this wedding is actually weirder than ours?" Carol smiled.
"Hey, you have no idea," Chandler replied. "If things had gone as planned, my *parents* would be here."
"Chandler," Joey hissed, poking him in the side again.
"That's not bad! I didn't say anything bad! Quit poking me!"
"Chandler -- your parents *are* here."
Chandler jumped to his feet and whirled in the direction of Joey's pointing finger.
Nora and Charles Bing stood in the doorway.
"Bride or groom?" the usher asked.
"Oh, *groom*," Charles Bing purred, twisting his pearls around a lacquered fingernail. "And do, do take us *right* up front. We're the groom's *parents*."
"His very, very, *very* pissed off parents," Nora Bing added.
