Past & Present

Chapter 6: If Anyone Falls

DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. But when I saw Matt LeBlanc on the big screen during a preview for "Charlie's Angels" the other day (by the way, "Down With Love" was quite enjoyable), I jumped up and screamed. My companions wished to sedate me and pretended they didn't know me. I guess you could say that I wish I owned at least one of them.

THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: After having severe writer's block and being deeply mired in a huge pile of "my writing sucks ass" feelings, I finally managed to pull myself together and produce what I think is my longest chapter yet.

Also, I posted three new reader questions in the bio section of my profile. Please read them and respond, via email or in your review. I have my own vision of where this is going, but I depend on reader response to determine certain developments. Your input is crucial!

Also, the song lyrics used in this chapter are by Stevie Nicks. I love her.

Thanks for being patient with me. Read, review, and enjoy!

P.S. – for those of you guys who are up to speed on your Greek mythology, the role of Cassandra is now being played by Monica.

~*~*~

I hear a voice

In the room next to mine
Feels good

Sounds good
Closes the door from behind
And another voice comes through the door
I am dealing with a man
Who when away from me

Stays deep inside my heart
And he says if anyone falls in love
It will be one of us
If anyone falls in love
Somewhere

In the twilight

Dreamtime
Somewhere

In the back of your mind
If anyone falls...

~*~*~

When she woke up, he was gone.

His side of the bed was still warm. The pillow held the imprint of his head. But he was nowhere in sight.

She wandered into her own room to check on Emma, who was still sleeping, then on to the kitchen to indulge in some ice cream for breakfast. The note on the Magna Doodle caught her eye.

"Gone with Chandler to move stuff"

Then she remembered, as if last night had been an eon ago, how he'd mentioned something about helping Chandler to move the furniture out of the extra bedroom that was going to become the baby's room.

Good, she thought. It gives me time to make my arrangements.

The word "arrangements" struck her as ironic. It was the word people typically used when discussing a funeral.

The ice cream left her unsatisfied. Emma was stirring, so Rachel went through the motions of preparing breakfast for her child as she mentally made a to-do list for the evening ahead.

Drop Emma off with Ross. Order dinner from Paul's Café. Get a bottle of wine. Ask Monica to keep Joey well fed and busy until tonight. And find a bakery that can make key lime pie.

The week of waiting was over. They'd passed the test. Nothing would stop her from finishing what had begun in Barbados.

Tomorrow she was moving out.

~*~*~

Rachel had planned the perfect night.

Lobster and filet mignon from Paul's café were keeping warm in the stove. A bottle of her favorite white wine was chilling in the fridge.

She'd called Monica, asking her to recommend a bakery that could make key lime pie. Monica had insisted on making one for Rachel herself. She had Joey and Chandler occupied with cleaning the baseboards in the guestroom, she'd said, and had plenty of time to run to the store and whip up a quick pie.

Rachel was amazed. Rather than being exhausted during her first trimester like most women, Monica thrived on it. It seemed to have the effect of energizing her.

After briefly wondering if the pie was a peace offering because of Ross' recent behavior, Rachel dismissed the thought and accepted it graciously. Monica knew, Chandler knew – everyone knew and had agreed to let her be the one to tell Joey, just as they'd all carefully refrained from being too critical of Ross. She knew that there would be no taking of sides in this issue, which didn't hurt anyone but certainly didn't help either.

The pie being made and delivered, Rachel had ample time to get dressed and set the scene. A picnic blanket was carefully placed on the living room floor and set for two, with wine glasses and candles completed the effect.

She'd gone into Joey's room and debated with herself about placing more candles around and making a fast trip to the florist to buy some rose petals for tossing on the bed. But in the end, she rejected this idea, along with the plan to replace his well worn but comfortable sheets with the insanely high thread count set she had stashed away for such an occasion.

We don't need all that window dressing, she thought as she remembered all the recent interactions that had stopped just short of what would happen tonight. It will be perfect for us just the way it is now. All we need to make it right is each other.

Smiling at her reflection in his mirror, she went back into the living room and arranged herself on the picnic blanket to await his return.

~*~*~

Hearing Joey approaching the door, Rachel's heart began to beat faster with anticipation.

He flung the door open, scanning the room briefly with his eyes before noticing her sitting on the floor.

"Heeeeey, nice!" He beamed at her. "A picnic?"

She nodded, gesturing for him to join her on the blanket.

"You expecting somebody special?" He put his jacket on a barstool and sat down across from her.

She nodded again.

"Anyone I know?" he asked in his most flirtatious voice.

"Just this guy," she trailed off and smiled at him shyly.

"Hmmm," he leaned over and kissed her softly. "Some lucky guy."

"Mmm-hmmm. Very lucky." She ran her fingers through his dark hair. "This might just be his lucky night."

He pulled back from her enough to look into her eyes.

"Are we talking about a 'breaking rule three' kind of night?"

She nodded.

"Because I don't want to do anything until you're ready." He stroked the side of her face with his hand.

"Well - Emma is with Ross," she brushed her lips against his. "And everyone else -" she said as she kissed him again, "knows –" he responded with a kiss that made her breathless - "that we need alone time tonight."

Never taking his lips from hers, he moved them both slowly backwards until they were lying on the floor. Her mind was moving in dizzy circles as she slid her hands underneath his shirt.

She was dimly aware of kicking her shoes off. Hearing the sound of something breaking against the floor, she sat up abruptly, breathing heavily. "What was that?"

"You hit one of the wine glasses with your shoe and broke it."

"Ah, to hell with it. I'll clean it up later." She lay back down and pulled him on top of her. As she did, their eyes met. A giggle escaped from her lips. Soon they were both giggling nervously.

"Do you want to take this to my room?" he asked.

"Yeah," she whispered, trying to push all negative thoughts out of her mind along with the twinge of guilt she felt for not telling him what had developed with Ross.

"Would it be too cheesy for me to carry you in there?"

"Yes," she said, then paused a beat. "Do it anyway."

It was all happening so fast, but not too fast. He was lifting her from the floor, then they were on his bed. None of his former hesitation was evident now. This was the Joey she'd known in Barbados.

"Relax," he whispered. "Don't think." She gave her mute assent, attempting to shut off her worried mind.

The loud ringing of the phone startled them both.

"Let the machine get it," he moaned. He had begun to unbutton her dress.

It rang again.

She put her hand over his before he could move to the next button. "We need to get it. It might be about Emma."

With a groan, she rolled over to pick up the extension beside his bed.

"Hello?"

"Hey," a hoarse female voice replied. "Is Tribbiani there? This is Estelle, his agent."

"Um, he's kind of - kind of busy at the moment."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all about his kind of busy. It's important, I gotta talk to him right now. Tell him to put his pants on and come to the phone."

Rachel handed him the cordless phone. "Your agent," she whispered, kissing her way slowly from his ear to his mouth.

"Estelle? What's going on? Can you make it fast, I'm kind of in the middle of something here." He paused. "Yeah, I remember. They do? Are you sure?" He moved the phone to his other ear. "When and where?" Rachel thought she heard Estelle say "California".

"You gotta be kidding me. No, I'm not doing it."

He was quiet as Estelle responded loudly, but not loudly enough for Rachel to overhear.

"I don't want it, that's why."

Rachel heard his agent's agitated voice crackle through the phone.

"I don't care. No, I'm not crazy. I'm not doing it, that's final. I gotta go now, ok? Estelle?" He looked at the phone in surprise before putting it down. "She hung up on me."

"What happened, sweetie?"

"Nothing important. Now, where were we?" He leaned over to kiss her again.

"No, wait – what did she say? Tell me."

He leaned back on his elbows. "There's just this part in a movie, that's all. They want me to come out to L.A. and read for it."

"Oh my God! That's amazing!" Good news to balance the bad news, she thought with relief.

"I turned it down."

"You turned it down? Why?"

"It's no big deal. I have more important things in my life now than some stupid movie."

"But Joey, you've been dreaming of another movie role! Why won't you go to the audition?"

He shrugged. "It's a 3 month shoot in California. I'm not leaving you for that long."

Rachel had the unsettling feeling that her evening was not going to turn out like she'd planned. "When would they need you, if you got the part?"

"Six weeks from today." He peered at her uneasily. "Why? You trying to get rid of me?"

"No...it's just.." she braced herself. "There's something I need to tell you."

"Uh-oh. This doesn't sound so good."

"It doesn't have to be bad. It can turn out good, if we try." She looked away from him.

"Just say it, Rach."

"You remember that fight I had with Ross the other night?"

"Like I could forget."

"He did some thinking and decided, in his infinite wisdom, that Emma should live with him."

"What? Why is he doing this?"

Nothing could mask her regret as she answered. "Do I really have to tell you why?"

"This is crazy!"

"I know, but – he's talking about taking me to court over this. So, I talked to Mike –"

"You mean Mike knew about this before I did?"

"Try to stay focused, Joe."

He nodded his response and she continued. "Mike suggested that I try to give Ross some control and to compromise with him so that this doesn't end up in some custody hearing."

Suspicion was beginning to cloud his expression. "And this means…"

"This means," she cleared her throat to get rid of the quiver in her voice. "This means that I can't live here anymore."

"Well, where the heck else are you gonna live?" he asked, puzzled.

She took his hands in hers, unable to meet his eyes. She knew that no prepared speech could soften the pain she was about to cause. "With Ross."

She watched the change come over his face as her words sunk in.

"Woah, woah, woah. Hold it right there. No. You're not going to live with him. Out of the question."

"I don't have any choice."

"Yes, you do. There's always a choice."

"Just work with me here, ok?" This was her one opportunity to make him understand before the inevitable came to pass.

He got up from the bed and walked into the living room, standing in the middle of the floor as if he didn't know what to do next. With a philosophical shrug, she buttoned up her dress.

I suppose there's no chance of finishing that tonight, she thought grimly. Score one for rule three. She joined him in the living room, where he was pacing rapidly.

"So you're leaving? Just like that?"

"It's not 'just like that', Joey – it was a very painful decision. I gave this a lot of thought. Do you think I want to do this?"

"Then why are you doing it?"

"Don't you understand? He's going to take me to court if I stay here. I could lose custody of Emma and end up only being able to see her on weekends."

He thew his hands up in frustration. "Maybe – maybe he's bluffing. Does he even have a lawyer?"

"This is Ross. He probably keeps a lawyer on speed dial."

"That still doesn't tell me why you're leaving me."

"I'm not leaving you – I'm just going across the street for a couple of months. Will you hear me out? There's more to the story."

He threw himself down in his chair. "Fine. Go ahead."

"You know Mrs. Braverman downstairs?"

"Cheesecake lady?"

"Yes, cheesecake lady. Anyway, you know how much she likes Emma, right? Yesterday when I got back from setting this up with Ross, I ran into her in the lobby."

"And?"

"And - she could see how upset I was, so she asked what was wrong. I told her that I had to start looking for my own place –"

He interrupted. "But you're moving in with Ross."

"I am, for a while. Let me finish."

He sat back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest.

"It turns out, her daughter in New Jersey is refinishing their attic for Mrs. Braverman to live in. It will be ready in about two months, and she's going to move out. She's going to sublet her apartment to me."

"I'm not following you." He shook his head impatiently.

"I'm going to stay with Ross for two months until Mrs. Braverman moves out, then Emma and I will move in right downstairs." She pasted on a bright smile. "It's the perfect solution. It gets Ross off my back about living with you, but I don't have to move across town or even out of the neighborhood. Isn't it great?"

He seemed less than enthused. "When are you leaving?"

She closed her eyes so as not to see him when she answered. "Tomorrow."

"So what was all of this tonight?" he snapped. She winced. Joey seldom ever spoke to her that way. "What was your plan? For us to do what we were about to do, then you roll over and tell me you're leaving tomorrow?"

"I wanted us to be – together - just once before I have to move out. It's not like we can't see each other, you know. We can still hang out and have private time. Nothing has to change."

"Everything is going to change, and you know it. That's why you set this whole thing up tonight." He got up and headed for his room.

She ran after him. "Joey, please listen! Don't be mad at me! I have to do this – don't make it worse than it already is."

"We're not going to be able to see each other for two months. Tonight is our last night." He sat down on his bed and stared at the wall in front of him.

"That's not true."

"Isn't it? I'm so sure Ross is going to baby-sit for us so we can go out together." He rolled his eyes at her caustically.

"We'll work something out. Don't give up so easily, all right? Even if worse comes to worse, it's only for two months, then I'll have my own place. He won't be able to say anything about our relationship then."

She watched him scowling into the darkness, waiting for him to say something, anything.

"There's a way around this whole thing, you know," he finally said.

"I doubt it, but tell me your idea." She sat down on the bed beside him.

"Marry me."

She blinked, unsure that she'd heard him correctly. "What?"

"Marry me. Then our relationship is legal and no one can say a damn thing about it."

She fell back on the bed and prayed for patience. "Joey, we can't get married!"

"Why not?" He was going into his all too familiar loud wheedling mode.

"Well, to pick one reason among many - we're not ready for that. It's too soon."

"Too soon? We've known each other for ten years. We've lived together for what, four? I'm in love with you, and we're best friends. Yeah, you're right, this is crazy talk!" Sarcasm dripped from every syllable. He got up and went to the kitchen.

She followed him, seeing that he had taken out his saucepan.

"Can we pick a room and stick to it?"

He didn't answer. She saw that he was rummaging through the cabinets.

"What are you looking for?"

"Tomatoes," he slammed the cabinet door shut and moved to the other one. "How many times do I have to propose before you take me seriously? Maybe the fourth time, you'll say yes."

"This is the second time, not the third. The one in the hospital was an accident."

"Ok, if you want to get technical about it." He slammed a can of tomatoes onto the counter. "You were saying?" His biting sarcasm was increasing with every second. She remembered that he tended to start fights to make parting with someone easier.

"We can't get married just to solve a problem."

"I hate to burst your bubble, Rach, but plenty of people get married to solve a problem."

"Yeah, plenty of people like Ross!" She walked over to the yellow sofa and shoved all the stuffed animals and toys onto the floor before sitting down. He followed her and took a seat next to her.

"Look, if we got married, you could stay here. You wouldn't have to move in with Ross, or sublet from Mrs. Braverman, or any of this stuff. Things could stay the same." His tone was beseeching. She could feel herself wearing down slightly to his pleading.

"It's impossible to plan a wedding on such short notice," she protested weakly. "I'd need at least a year."

"No you don't. We can do this - we'll get you a dress by that designer you love so much – what's her name, Velma Wing."

"Vera Wang," she corrected.

"Vera Wang it is. We'll decorate the whole place with lilies…I'll ask my producers to get some of the soap opera magazines to do a story on it…think about it, your wedding will be in a magazine."

His powers of persuasion had never been so dangerously effective. She fell into a reverie, seeing herself walking down the isle in a fantasy gown by Vera Wang, the photographers snapping away.

She pulled herself back to reality, shaking her head as if to erase the vision.

"This isn't how you want it to be for us, is it?" She tried to make her tone gentle.

"What do you mean?"

"A marriage of convenience. Don't we both deserve better than that?" His face fell, but she saw that he accepted her reasoning. "I'm not saying we'll never get married. I'm saying that this isn't the right time. Can you live with that answer?"

He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. "I finally got you, Rachel," his voice was small and sad. "I finally got you and I'm already losing you."

She put her arms around him, matching his sadness with her own. "You can never, ever lose me. Don't you know that by now?"

He didn't answer. She took a deep breath. "I think you should read for that part."

"So you don't have to look at my sad face hanging around?"

"Noooo!" she said, rumpling his hair. "Because it's the chance of a lifetime. I don't want you to give it up for me."

"Is this your way of setting a good example?"

"You turned that part down because you wanted to be here with me. Since I'm moving out, I think you'd be happier doing the movie. Even if it means I don't get to see you every day for a while."

"Yeah but – they don't even start costume tests for six weeks. That means, right about the time you move in downstairs, I'll be leaving to spend three months in California. That's five months apart."

She hadn't thought of that. She chewed her thumbnail, weighing their options.

"It's not like you can get three months off from work to go with me," he continued, "and even if you did, you can't leave Emma. Plus, there's no way Ross is going to let you pack her off to the West Coast for that long, with me, of all people."

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew he was right. "I guess not," she sighed.

"I want to be here when you come home. I'm not doing it." She heard the finality in his voice and knew it was useless to argue with him. A small voice inside her spoke loudly.

He doesn't want to do it! Stop pushing him into it to make yourself feel less guilty for breaking his heart again.

This was no way to spend their last night for two months. She put her head on his shoulder, and taking his hand, placed it on her leg. She had to try to make things right between them before this separation occurred. She resolved to make one more attempt.

"Now," she breathed, "where were we?"

He turned away from her. "I'm not in the mood anymore." She moved back, stung. This wasn't what she'd planned at all. She tried to kiss him but he refused her.

"Sweetie, don't do this to me, to us, ok? I want this. I want you. Please?"

He looked morosely into her eyes. "It's just going to make it harder on both of us if we do this now. I think I'd rather not know what I'm missing."

She could feel the tears rising, threatening to overflow. "Fine, if that's how you really feel," she said, swallowing a sob. She got up from the sofa and went to her room as fast as she could, slamming the door behind her. Throwing herself on her bed, careless of who might hear, she gave in to her churning emotions.

She had wanted this night to be perfect. She needed to have the memory to sustain her while she lived with Ross. No one knows how hard this is going to be, she thought, no one but me. Burying her face in a pillow, she cried for what seemed like a long time.

She looked up in surprise when she felt someone sit down beside her on the bed. It was Joey.

"You can't stay in here and cry all night. You gotta stop, or I'm gonna cry too."

She sat up slowly, wiping her eyes with the corner of the quilt. "Can I have a hug?" she asked in a choked voice.

"All the hugs you want." He put his arms around her. "I have an unlimited supply."

He held her until she stopped crying. There were whispered promises made, secret hopes shared, and even a smile or two exchanged during that long night, as they lay together in the darkness, holding each other as if they couldn't bear to let go.

~*~*~

The alarm went off at 6:00 AM, shocking her from a fitful sleep. She hadn't been aware of drifting off.

The sleek designer confection she'd donned the night before in hopes of staging a seduction now hung from her in a mass of wrinkles. Her face felt stiff from the carefully applied makeup she'd forgotten to remove. She didn't need a mirror to know that she had streaks of mascara where so many tears had fallen.

Moving her eyes to the side, she saw Joey, fast asleep in his clothes from the previous night. His hair was in disarray. One shoe was missing and he was drooling on the pillow.

So much for our night of wild passion, she thought as she reached over to nudge him awake.

He opened his eyes and squinted as if he couldn't remember where he was or how he got there. She waved a good morning to him.

He remembered what had to happen soon. It was evident in every line of his face.

"We've got to stop sleeping together fully dressed." Her remark failed to get the desired smile from him. He remained stoically silent.

"I look like hell, don't I?" She tried to brush her hair into some semblance of order with her hands.

"Pretty much." He sat up, looking around her room in the dim morning light, the stacks of bags and boxes she'd packed in secret. "How are we going to get all of this across the street?"

"Everyone already promised to help me do it. Everyone but Monica, that is – for obvious reasons."

"So, everyone – not just Mike, but everyone – knew about this before I did?"

She stood up, silently vowing to never sleep in a Wonder Bra again. Before she could answer him, he had gone into his room. The sound of the door shutting was followed by the clicking sound of the lock.

There was no anger left in her - only the aching knowledge that while he would accept her departure, he would also refuse to witness it.

~*~*~

"I think this is everything," Rachel said, looking at the boxes filling the spare room in Ross' apartment. Everything but the most important thing, she thought. The most important thing was the one item she'd had to leave behind and the only one she really wanted.

"Are you sure? Because I think there's room for a few more boxes, if we suspend them from the ceiling," Chandler quipped, waiting for the laughing response that didn't arrive. "Ooooo-kay. Ross and I are going to take a few things down to the storage room." He planted a quick kiss on Monica's cheek. "Be back in a few."

When she heard the front door shut, Rachel felt as if she could take off the facade of calm acceptance that she'd forced herself to wear all day. Her face crumpled, reminding Monica of things she didn't like to remember, dark times in Rachel's relationship with Ross.

"Do you want me to stay and help you unpack?" Monica was sympathetic. She alone perceived how difficult this was for Rachel.

"No," she sighed. "I've done this before. A few times."

"Alright, but you can call me, day or night, if you need anything. Ok sweetie?"

Rachel blinked back her tears and embraced her friend. Monica was stricken. She loved her brother, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was pushing Rachel into a something they'd all come to regret.

"You need to rest and take care of yourself," Rachel reached down and gave Monica a pat on the stomach. "And whoever is in there. That's what you need to think about right now, not the ten thousandth round of the Ross and Rachel show."

"You guys, come in here and look," Phoebe said, sticking her head into Rachel's room.

Monica looked at Rachel with surprise and shrugged. They followed Phoebe into the living room. She was pointing to the window facing Monica and Chandler's apartment, her large crystal ring catching the dazzling morning sunshine.

"Isn't he so sad?" Phoebe sighed. "He looks like a little lost lamb. A totally hot, sexy lamb. Still lost, though."

Joey was standing in the window of Monica's apartment, beer in hand, watching them with the despair of an orphaned child. His eyes lit up briefly when he saw Rachel, then returned to their former state of misery. He waved his hand at them wistfully before turning away.

"Now, tell me again why he couldn't be here today?" Phoebe asked.

"We said our goodbyes last night. This day is going to be tense enough without having to get between him and Ross constantly." Rachel sat down on the sofa. "I know Ross really doesn't want him anywhere near Emma right now, anyway." She rubbed her furrowed brow with her hand, trying to forget the image of Joey's heartbroken face watching her through the window.

Monica sat down next to her, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Honey, are you sure that this is the best thing for you?"

"No. I'm sure this is the worst thing for me. But it's the only option Ross gave me."

"But what about Joey?" Monica felt that she'd never overcome the strangeness of her two friends falling in love with each other. "Don't you – " she stumbled a bit over the word – "love him?"

"I don't know…I think so...sometimes, when we're together, it's like – like I've always loved him. Things with him are so easy and comfortable, you know?"

Monica and Phoebe were suddenly busy arranging the coasters on Ross' coffee table.

"And I know he loves me. But Ross thinks he's losing Emma. He's got this crazy idea that I'm going to try to raise her with Joey – I guess the way Carol has raised Ben with Susan. What else could I do but move out? Joey and I have to find some way to live through the next two months until we can be together again."

Rachel looked up in time to intercept the uncomfortable glance that passed between Monica and Phoebe. "You two are never going to get past this, are you?"

"It's just weird, you know? I mean, it's Joey." Phoebe said with a dramatic gesture. "And it's you, and you guys are like, in love, and, and doing it, and stuff. It's like Ken dating Skipper instead of Barbie. Or me eating meat! It's a crime against nature!"

"Yeah…first, in this scenario, if I'm Skipper and Joey is Ken, who's Barbie?"

"Ha, ha – wouldn't you like to know?" Phoebe flashed her trademark quirky smile.

"Said the woman who married a gay ice dancer who wasn't gay after all, then ate a cheeseburger when he left town." Rachel put her feet up on the coffee table in a way that would've horrified Ross if he saw it.

"I'm not going to lie to you," Monica began. "It is weird for all of us. But you know something? It was weird for all of you when Chandler and I got together. You guys got over it –"

"Some of us are still a little freaked out by that," Phoebe interjected.

Monica silenced Phoebe with a look. "Most of you guys got over it, and we'll get over this too. It's uncomfortable right now because we're not used to it yet, plus your history with Ross, and now all this stuff is happening about Emma, but give us time." She patted Rachel's hand. "We love both of you. If you're happy, we're happy."

"But will we be happy again?" Rachel persisted. "Will there be anything left between us when this is over?"

"Of course there will! You know that we all think Ross is being a little mental about this." Monica placed her hand unconsciously on her still flat abdomen. "But life has a way of surprising you. Look at me and Chandler – low motility, inhospitable environment – then one crazy weekend, and – surprise! Here were are." Phoebe nodded in agreement. "You're going to get through this. Things have a way of working out better than any of us could plan."

They were interrupted when Chandler burst through the front door, flexing like a body builder. "I went to the storage room. Oh yeah. I went down there, it was dark and spooky, I kicked its ass!" He stood in front of Monica. "You wanna know why? Because I'm a MAN. M – A - N!" He grabbed Monica's hand and pulled her up. "Give daddy a kiss."

Monica wrinkled her nose. "You smell a little weird. You didn't wet yourself while you were kicking the storage room's ass, did you daddy?"

"That would be the scent of ammonia," Ross answered. "While kicking the storage room's ass, he turned over an entire bottle of it on himself."

"Who left the cap off the bottle? Huh?" Chandler countered.

"Probably - I don't know, just a wild guess – the janitor?" Ross smirked.

"Yeah well, who caused me to knock it over in the first place, by grabbing me and running away like a girl, just because he saw a spider?"

"I am highly allergic to insect bites of all kinds!"

"On that note," Monica took Chandler's hand and pulled him to the door, "You're going home and getting cleaned up before you touch any of my furniture."

"But I've already got ammonia all over me. Isn't that a type of cleanser?" Monica waved goodbye and closed the door behind them.

"I've got to take off, too. I'm meeting Mike for coffee." As she bent down to pick up her purse, Phoebe leaned over and whispered in Rachel's ear. "Enjoy the view from your window." She smiled over her shoulder as she walked out.

Except for Emma, Ross and Rachel were suddenly alone together. Years of tumultuous history hung between them like a ghost.

Rachel thought back to the time before she and Ross started dating each other, when they were just friends. We were such good friends, she thought, we could trust each other completely. Why can't we go back to that? But she knew there was no returning to that time. Too much had happened, too many hurtful words had been said, words that could never be taken back.

Ross put his hands in his pockets and stood awkwardly. He looked as uncomfortable as she felt.

"All settled in?" he asked politely.

"Yeah, I think so. Just need to unpack some stuff."

"Is there anything you need? Anything I can get for you?"

Rachel felt a twinge of annoyance. She hated when he acted like this. He knew he'd won, so he was being overly polite and solicitous. It was his way of gloating.

"No, I'm fine." She took a deep breath, trying to conquer her irritation with him and the whole situation. "I'm just going to take a quick nap while she's asleep. That way I'll be totally rested and can watch Emma while you and Charlie go to that museum thing tonight."

"We're uh…we're not going to the museum."

"Oh – why? Was it canceled?"

"Sort of," he looked at his feet. "I canceled it. I told Charlie that I wanted to be here for Emma's first night back home."

Rachel nearly escaped an outburst of scornful laughter. "She spends three or four nights a week here with you. It's not like she's coming 'home' from summer camp or something." Get a grip, Ross, she said to herself.

"I know, but – I wanted us to be a family tonight." He fixed his most sincere hangdog gaze on her.

I cannot deal with sentimental Ross, she thought with exhaustion, not now.

"I think I really need a nap, ok? We can talk more tonight." She went to her room and shut the door, leaving Ross alone in the living room. He marched to the window, grimacing as he yanked the drapes shut.

~*~*~

At the precise moment that Rachel closed her door, Joey was closing the door to his apartment.

My apartment, he reminded himself. Not our apartment. Just mine.

Alone.

He tried to study the room around him dispassionately.

All his possessions remained exactly where they were yesterday. To the casual observer, it would appear that nothing was different.

But to Joey, it was like seeing the aftermath of a natural disaster.

The stacks of fashion magazines that normally littered every surface were gone. Absent as well were the myriad baby toys, the makeup and hairspray in the bathroom, the earrings that Rachel would always take off before bed and leave carelessly on the bar. The big pink "E" was gone from the place where it had hung for so long, and he didn't dare look into the bedroom where they had spent the previous night.

He opened his fridge to get another beer. A perfect key lime pie sat inside, untouched. In the sink was a single wine glass. He remembered the sound the other one had made when her shoe hit it.

One glass was in tact. The broken remains of the other one were no doubt crammed into the garbage. Joey felt a kinship with glasses for the first time in his life.

He opened his beer and took a long drink. A nap, he told himself. I'll sleep this off. Things will be better when I wake up.

He began to walk the familiar path to his room then stopped, looking down at the spot where the picnic blanket had been the night before.

Overwhelmed, he threw the bottle of beer at the bathroom door. It shattered into countless shards on the floor.

He left it where it was, burying himself in his bed. The mess wasn't going anywhere and he needed sleep. Joey knew that sometimes it was impossible pick up all the pieces.

A/N: To be continued. You won't see what's coming next, I promise!