Past & Present
Chapter 8: Every Little Thing She Does
DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. I'd like to work out some sort of rental agreement for Joey, though!
THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The longest chapter ever! I told you guys I would have this finished fast, and here it is, less than twenty-four hours after the last chapter!
I am doing a few things that are risky, to say the least, with this chapter. I know that this isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea, but please, be patient with me while I develop a few things. Let me just say this…if Joey can realize his feelings for Rachel by her simply showing him her "end of the night move", anything can happen, and fast.
As for Phoebe's dance, picture what she did when she was trying to seduce Chandler in "TOW Where Everyone Finds Out".
The song used in this chapter is by Sting, of course.
Please read and review – feedback on this chapter is more important than in any other I've written. Email me, whatever – just let me know what you think!
See my bio section for more thoughts on this topic. Thanks!
~*~*~
Rachel let herself into Monica's apartment. A cheesecake was already sliced attractively on the table. Monica sat on the couch, crochet hook in hand and the beginnings of a yellow baby sized sweater on her lap. Chandler was in the big chair, yarn wound around his hands.
"Don't tell me you're abandoning reality TV overload," he said.
"She's late for a very important date," Monica answered dryly, setting her yarn aside to hold her niece.
"And look," Chandler made a sweeping gesture toward the new white wicker bassinet beside him. "We even have a place to put Emma!"
"Oh, you guys!" Rachel rushed over to examine the bassinet, which was filled with soft yellow bedding. "When did you guys get this? It's so cute!"
"Our first piece of baby furniture," Monica said with a smile. "And you get to break it in," she said to Emma, planting a kiss on the baby's cheek.
"I can't thank you guys enough," Rachel began.
Monica held up a hand. "Don't thank me – just keep us out of trouble with Ross."
~*~*~
He was waiting when she stepped into the coffee house. The moment she saw him, she shed the strain and loneliness of the past week like an extra skin. She sighed into his arms without a word, feeling as if she could finally breathe again after countless hours under water.
"You wouldn't believe how much I've missed this."
"Me too," she murmured with contentment. For the moment, her every wish was fulfilled.
He moved away to look at her, studying her face with suspicion. "You look tired."
"I am tired," she said as she took his arm and led him to the sofa. "But Emma and I are both over our colds now."
"Yeah, but you don't look like you're sick-tired. You look sad-tired."
"Well obviously, living with Ross is not on my list of great ways to find happiness." Concern filled his dark eyes, causing her to change the subject. "How you doin'?" she asked playfully.
"Ooh, good line. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were hitting on me."
I can still get him to smile. All is not lost, she thought, satisfied. She looked around the room, which was rapidly filling up with customers.
"Let's go somewhere else. I can't stay long – maybe an hour – but we need some privacy."
"You wanna go to my place, or…" His voice trailed off. "My place. A week ago, it was our place."
"Let's go up to the roof," she suggested. No sad memories there, and no interruptions.
"You sure? It's kinda cold tonight and you've been sick…."
"It stopped raining, and you've got an umbrella in case it starts again." She stood up and tugged on his hand. "I'll be fine. I've got you to keep me warm."
~*~*~
"I think his theories regarding radio carbon dating are potentially revolutionary." Charlie took a sip of her green tea before continuing. "I plan to take several pages of notes at this lecture." She fixed her level gaze on Ross across the table. "I may even learn shorthand for it."
He didn't laugh. He didn't even get the joke, because he wasn't listening.
"I'm almost positive he's going to show slides of monkey orgies at some point during the presentation." Proving that she'd lost any shred of his attention some time ago, Ross gave a perfunctory nod before picking up his cell phone and dialing Rachel's number again.
She watched his face color with frustration as the phone rang nine times and transferred to Rachel's voice mail. He slammed the phone back down on the table and checked his pager for the one hundredth time.
"You've barely touched your unagi," Charlie observed. "And all of this romantic atmosphere is going completely to waste."
"It's not wasted," he blustered. "We've got the tiny table, the dim lighting with these rice paper thingies – "
"It's wasted because I might as well be here alone. You've dialed Rachel's number no less than thirty times in thirty minutes. I don't know what's on your mind tonight, but it's clearly not me."
"You're right, you're right…I'm just worried about Emma, you know? That something happened and Rachel is at the emergency room with her…"
"Ross, she had a cold. A common cold. She hardly qualifies for emergency medical intervention."
"Then where are they?" He was getting explosive.
The waitress picked that moment to stop by with more tea. Charlie calmly enjoyed her ebi as Ross stared out the window. She had known he had some unresolved issues, but the amount of intensity it wrought in him surprised her.
"Do you want to attend the lecture with me?" She asked more to find out if he were actually following the conversation than out of any real expectation of him saying yes.
Ross acted as if he hadn't heard her. "I think - I think I'll just call Monica – she'll know what's going on."
Charlie slowly and deliberately folded her napkin and placed it on the table. "Ross, you're a great guy, and I think there could have been – something – here. I wish you well." She stood up and pushed her chair back in.
"Call me when you finally decide to get over Rachel." She walked toward the door with regal poise and didn't look back.
He jumped out of his chair. "Charlie, wait! Charlie!" The other customers turned to stare as the hostess glared at him contemptuously.
Ross sat down at the table, realizing what he'd done. Charlie was out of his life, and he had no one to blame but himself.
He paid the check and hailed a cab, cursing himself for ruining another relationship.
~*~*~
"I never knew two months could be so long," Joey said as he wrapped his jacket tightly around Rachel, shielding her from the wind.
"I never knew a week could be so short, until we spent one together," she answered, leaning back against him so she could gaze up at the stars. A cold breeze blew across them. "We're a long way from Barbados," she observed. But the rain keeps on falling, she noted to herself.
They were quiet for a few minutes, enjoying the way they could be together without constant chatter to fill the gaps between sentences.
A falling star made a stunning appearance against the night sky, flashing like a diamond amidst the ambient light of New York City.
"Make a wish!" Joey pointed at the trail the star had made in its descent.
Let us always be together. She wished with every ounce of faith she could summon.
A wave of unexpected sadness crashed over her at that moment with the force of a hurricane. She could wish on every star in the sky and it didn't change a damn thing. There were too many forces working against them. It would take more than a wish to pave the way for their relationship. It would take a miracle.
She started to cry without reason or warning. Crying because every second they spent together was stolen time, borrowed time that could end at a moment's notice. Because what had been so promising was now tinged with tears and longing. She was crying for a foolish wish.
"What's wrong?" Joey was alarmed. She didn't respond.
"Rachel," he shook her slightly. "What the hell is happening? Answer me."
"God, Joey, what have we done?" Tears spilled out faster than she could brush them away.
"We sent Ross out for some eel and came up here to be alone?" He was baffled.
"No, I mean – what have we done to our lives? We used to be so happy together…we always had such a good time, no matter what we were doing. And now – look at us, hiding on a rooftop. It's like we made a wrong turn somewhere." She released a shaky sigh. "It's all…messed up."
His face fell. "It's all messed up now because you're my girlfriend? Us getting together messed up our lives?"
"It messed up any chance we have to ever be happy again." She rummaged through her purse for a tissue.
"I'm happy right now," he protested. "Any time I'm with you, I'm happy."
"Yeah, we're happy right now because we're escaping from the real world." Rachel dabbed her eyes with her tissue. "How happy are either of us going to be when we have to go back to reality without each other?"
"We can survive two months, then everything will be the way it was before."
Rachel looked into his eyes, seeing his simple belief in the eventual outcome of their relationship. "Joey – we can never go back to the way it was before."
He shook his head. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying – you and me as friends? After last week? I don't think so. We can never be 'just friends' again. We'll both always want more."
"I didn't mean we'd go back to being just friends -"
She continued, pain infusing every word. "Will you ever be able look at me without remembering what it was like the first time you kissed me in Barbados? Or what it was like to sleep in the same bed and wake up beside each other?"
He shook his head mutely.
"Me either," she answered.
"Where is all this coming from?" He was helpless before this torrent of agony.
"Because –" she paused, frustrated. "Because this was supposed to be happy, but every time we're together, we're going to be miserable, counting the minutes until it ends."
"But someday, it won't have to end anymore. You'll get your own place and we can be together all the time."
"Anything could happen between now and then. Suppose things don't work out for us to be anything but friends? What if one week is all we're ever going to have?"
"We've got all the time in the world," he pleaded. "So maybe you're right and we can't go back…but we can go forward, right?"
"We're not going forward." She stood up and leaned over the enclosure to look down at the world below. "We're stuck. And until something changes, when we're together, the clock will be always be ticking in the background." The guilt-ridden thought that had been brewing below the surface pushed itself to the top and demanded her attention.
"You've got to take that movie role," she said abruptly.
He rolled his eyes and huffed impatiently. "Are we going to go over that again?"
"Joey, you can't turn down the chance of a lifetime for me. I won't let you."
"Look, there's no guarantee I'd get the part. Even if I did, I'm not leaving you right now."
"At least go read for it. Give yourself that much of a chance."
A sound interrupted her, startling them. A hand reached through the barely open door, picking up the pipe that served as a doorstop and pulled it inside.
Rachel clutched Joey in fear. He held the umbrella up like a weapon.
The door swung open, and Ross stepped out onto the roof.
"What the hell are you doing up here?" he exclaimed.
"What the hell are you doing up here?" Rachel stepped in front of Joey as if to protect him from Ross' wrath.
"Are you insane? You took a sick baby out in this weather?" His eyes darted back and forth from Rachel to Joey. "Joey, go home. This is between Rachel and me."
Joey bristled. "If you have a problem with me, Ross, just step up and say so. Don't take it out on a woman, for God's sake."
Ross ignored him, taking an object out of his pocket and tossing it to Rachel. Joey caught it deftly and handed it to her.
"Incidentally, nice touch, leaving your cell phone at home so I'd go frantic with worry and ruin my date." Hostility emanated from him, charging the air around the three of them.
Rachel was momentarily dumbfounded. "I left my phone at home? Oh my God – Ross, it was an oversight – I would never do something like that intentionally." Anger flickered beneath her apology. "Incidentally, thanks for ruining my date."
"By the way, your daughter is fine – not that you've checked on her since you unloaded her on my sister, you know the one with the high-risk pregnancy?"
Rachel closed her eyes against the scene before her. "Monica is going to kill me," she whispered to Joey.
"Come on," Joey answered, taking her hand. "Let's go home. You'll see him tomorrow when he's had time to cool off."
"Ross –" she begged him silently to relent.
"I trusted you, and this is what you do." He looked away from her, trying to regain his self-control. "You know, it's not so much that you lied to me, or that you did all this for him –" He stopped to look at Joey with a mixture of regret and resentment. "It's that you showed no concern for Emma's well-being, or Monica's. You didn't care how scared I'd be when I couldn't find you."
He turned and went to the door. "I'll be at Monica's." He walked away, leaving the door propped open with the pipe.
"I have to go with him," Rachel said, pulling her hand away from Joey's. "Try to understand…"
"I know," he stepped back, his face an emotionless mask. "Go."
She felt his eyes burning through her as she disappeared into the night, leaving his arms empty and his life a void.
~*~*~
"Emma isn't going anywhere," Monica said as she peered down into the bassinet. "This girl is staying right here with her Auntie Monica tonight."
Rachel stood beside Ross in the spare room of Monica's apartment, anger coursing back and forth between them like a current. Emma lay peacefully asleep.
"You don't wake a sleeping baby, especially one who's been sick," Monica continued. "She needs to rest. If you wake her up now, she'll be up all night." She beamed happily at her niece. "Besides, Chandler and I need the practice."
"Well, you do have a baby bag right here with everything she needs," Ross said, gesturing to the bag Rachel had brought along on her ill-fated tryst.
"I know," Monica replied. "It's perfect. Please, Ross - let her stay?"
"You're sure you're not too tired? You need your rest too," Ross answered.
"Yes, Ross is the master of considering other people's feelings," Rachel snapped. "Your comfort is his first concern."
Monica raised her eyebrows, backing away. "Ok – whatever went on with the two of you tonight, keep it away from the baby."
Rachel turned on her heel and stomped out.
~*~*~
Joey dialed the number from memory, feeling a small amount of comfort when he heard his mother's voice answering.
"Mom? It's me…Yeah, I know…Listen, can I crash over there tonight? It's a long story. I just need to get out of here and clear my head. Yeah, it's about Rachel – Mom? Calm down, ok? I'll explain when I get there."
He hung up with his mother still midstream in an outpouring of questions. He had his overnight bag packed and waiting beside him. He locked up and slid a note under Chandler's door that said simply: "Gone to Queens for the night, be back tomorrow." He struggled to hold in the searing sense of loss he was feeling until he was safely ensconced in the darkness of a cab.
Loving Rachel meant losing her…over and over again.
~*~*~
Rachel threw her overnight bag on to the bed and unzipped with an urgency that almost tore it. Reaching into her drawer she pulled out a pair of clean and freshly folded pajamas, tossing them into the bag.
What else, she asked herself, forcing her frenzied mind to think rationally. Toothbrush, makeup bag.
Running to the bathroom, she grabbed her toothbrush from the holder. She tossed it into Emma's bag along with everything else. She snatched her makeup bag from her dresser and tried to force it into the bag on top of her pajamas but the bag was already overfilled and refused to zip.
Dammit, she raged with frustration. It'll just have to stay unzipped.
She stormed out of her room, pausing only briefly to address Ross as he sat alone in the dimly lit living room.
"I'm going to spend the night at Joey's, if he'll even have me after tonight." She stopped, waiting for him to answer. His anger had faltered, leaving him spiritless and desolate.
"I'll bring Emma back in the morning, and we'll continue with this torture game you invented for us."
"Fine, go." Ross was drained of all emotion. "I've lost Charlie, I've lost you, and now I'm going to lose Emma. My Nana always said things happen in threes." He waved his hand weakly. "Say hi to Joey for me – I've probably lost him, too."
"Charlie? You broke up with Charlie?" Rachel asked in disbelief. "What the – nevermind." She adjusted her bag over her shoulder. "Nothing you do could surprise me anymore." She strode to the door.
"This isn't over," Ross said with a studied calm that never failed to unnerve her.
"That's where you're wrong." She turned the knob and pulled the door open. "This was over a long time ago."
The sound of the door slamming echoed into the hallway like a gunshot.
~*~*~
Ross didn't know how long he'd been sitting along in the dark when someone pushed open his door. He looked up, expecting to see Rachel. Instead, Phoebe's face appeared.
"Anyone home?"
"Yeah, come in," Ross said eagerly, a sense of calm flooding him at the sight of her. Phoebe took off her coat and dropped it on the couch before sitting down on the floor beside the coffee table. "I was just…" he tried for a plausible story and failed. "Counting my miseries," he concluded.
"Huh. It's a good night for that," she said absently.
"Where's Mike?" he asked, hoping the man he considered the most boring human being on earth wasn't about to join them.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe you could ask his ex-wife?" She snorted sarcastically and rolled her eyes.
"His ex-wife?" Ross' face was incredulous. "What does she have to do with it?"
"Mind if I have a drink?" she asked.
"Uh, sure…" He stood up and put his hands on his hips, lost in thought. "I think Rachel has a bottle of Midori somewhere…" He was about to head for the kitchen when Phoebe reached into her oversized vintage tapestry bag and produced a huge bottle of Jose Cuervo Tequila.
"I can't believe you carry that around with you." He eyed the massive bottle with a mixture of discomfort and awe.
"What? It was my grandmother's," she answered, gesturing to her bag. "I don't make fun of your bags."
Ross ignored the bag comment. "I'll go get you a glass."
Phoebe removed the cap from the bottle and turned it up for a long drink. "Who needs a glass? What are you, a girl?" She handed the bottle to him. "You look like you could use this as much as I can."
Ross took the bottle gingerly. One whiff of the contents convinced him to find Rachel's Midori.
"I'll be right back." He went into the kitchen and opened the cupboard that was dedicated to Rachel's snacks. He sorted through her stash of chips, cookies, Cheese Nips, and Pop Tarts. She certainly acquired a junk food habit living with Joey, he noted to himself, finding the bottle of melon flavored liqueur secreted away in the back. "Bingo," he said with satisfaction. He grabbed a shot glass from another cabinet, suddenly happy. A smile played across his features as he walked back into his living room and saw Phoebe's long form stretched out across the floor, tequila bottle in hand. He knew he was finally with the one person he could count on to listen without judgement.
"You first," he said, clinking his shot glass against her bottle. "Cheers."
"Ok. I had this feeling – psychic vibe, if you will – that tonight was the night."
"Proposal night?"
"Right. So I got dressed to the nines –"
"You look…amazing," Ross interrupted, taking in her form fitting dress, high-heeled boots, and exotic jewelry for the first time.
"Of course," Phoebe answered with a knowing smile. "Anyway…we ordered in, and I had the whole thing going – candles, incense, a CD with the mating calls of whales playing in the background…"
"Essential for romance," he observed wryly.
"There we were, eating dinner, waiting for the big moment to arrive when the phone rings. It was her."
"And?"
"And…apparently, the parakeet they had when they were married keeled over dead tonight. She was in hysterics and needed Mike to – I don't know, come over and open a bottle of Valium for her or something." She took a swig of her Tequila before continuing. "Birds hate me!"
Ross remembered the pigeon that attacked her and caused them to lose their lottery tickets, and couldn't disagree. "What happened next?"
"He rushed off like some kind of – Valium opening ex-husband person." She stared morosely down into her bottle. "I wonder sometimes if he still has feelings for her. He's just so – angry over the whole thing, so bitter…kind of how you are about Rachel."
Ross held up a hand defensively. "I do not have feelings for Rachel."
"Um, yeah, ok. Tell that to someone who hasn't spent ten years watching this soap opera."
"She is the mother of my child." He was emphatic. "That is all." He took a slow sip of Midori, considering Phoebe's accusation. "Not that it would matter if I did have feelings for her, because she's probably in bed with Joey even as we speak."
"How did that happen? I thought you had her on a pretty short leash." She chuckled at her own humor.
"It's not a leash, it's a custody arrangement."
"You mean jealousy arrangement?"
"You're starting to sound like Charlie," he commented as he poured himself another round.
"Charlie. Where is that hot piece of paleontologist these days?"
"Your guess is as good as mine. She broke up with me tonight."
Phoebe gasped. "I'm so sorry – I've been babbling away about Mike, and didn't even ask what was bothering you. What happened?" She pulled herself up to a sitting position and focused her eyes on him.
"Rachel talked me into taking Charlie out to dinner at this Japanese restaurant, and I kept calling to check on Emma…I called the apartment line, and Rachel didn't answer…so I tried her cell phone over and over." He shook his head ruefully, remembering. "Little did I know that she had arranged a secret rendezvous with Joey, and forget to bring along her cell phone."
"Oh my God," Phoebe said in horror. "You went all 'Red Ross' in front of Charlie, didn't you?"
"Little bit, yeah," he admitted, realizing for the first time how his behavior must have appeared to Charlie.
"You freaked out, she put two and two together and got 'Ross still loves Rachel', and dumped your ass."
"In so many words." He shrugged. "Long story short, I found Emma with Monica, and Rachel with Joey. Chaos ensued…"
"Red Ross made an encore appearance for Rachel and Joey, driving them further into each other's arms." Phoebe observed. "You'll notice that alcohol increases my powers."
"You're right, you know." He replayed the scene with Rachel and Joey in his mind, seeing the way they constantly jumped to defend each other. "The harder I push them apart, the closer they get."
"Ah, my sweet," Phoebe reached up and patted Ross' cheek. "I'm always right. It's a law of nature…when you try to keep two people apart, you only make the attraction stronger." He nodded affirmatively. "So where are the fair damsel and child tonight?"
"Rachel came back here, furious with me. She packed her overnight bag and went to Joey, who I'm sure was all too happy to provide her with a place to spend the night. And Emma was asleep, so we left her with Monica."
"And you?"
"And me…I was just sitting here in the dark, wondering who I'm going to lose next." He raised his glass in tribute to her. "Then you showed up."
"As Chandler would say, could we be any more depressing?" Phoebe glanced over to the stereo. "Let's have some music."
Ross walked over to his CD collection. "I don't have any whale mating sounds…what else might interest you?"
"Oh! Oh – Sting!" She bubbled over with excitement. "Remember that concert?"
"Rooossss caaaan," he screeched to the tune of "Roxanne" as he placed a CD inside the player. A song filled the room.
Though I've tried before
To tell her
Of the feelings
I have for her
In my heart
Every time that
I come near her
I just lose my nerve
As I've done from the start
"That's more like it," she said as she began an undulating dance toward him. He attempted to imitate her movements unsuccessfully, so he began bobbing his head robotically to the beat instead.
Every little thing
She does is magic
Everything she do
Just turns me on
Even though my life
Before was tragic
Now I know my love
For her goes on
She shimmied toward him and he countered with a few moves from "the routine", noticing against his will how incredibly sexy she was despite her eccentric dancing. Or maybe because of it, he thought. That's what makes her so alluring…everything she does is unique.
Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days
Since we first met
It's a big enough umbrella
But it's always me
That ends up getting wet
"How drunk are we?" he asked, forcing his mind to focus on something other than the way her long blonde hair swirled around as she danced.
"Not drunk enough," she retorted, returning to the couch and picking up her bottle. He joined her and resumed his glass of Midori.
She fumbled through her bag and retrieved her cell phone. "I'm just going to check my messages…maybe he called." She dialed in and listened patiently before turning the phone off angrily and tossing it back into her bag.
"Nothing," she told him.
"Neither of us are having especially good luck with cell phones tonight."
She turned up her bottle again before answering. "Cell phone karma…I'll have to investigate that."
"How do you always do this?" he asked in wonder.
"What?"
"This…this thing you do – always putting a good spin on things for me, always showing me the bright side…"
"When you're living in a box and mugging comic book nerds for food money, you either find the bright side or die trying."
"That's just it, though. If anyone should be angry and have a grudge against the world, it's you…but you don't." He took another sip of his drink, listening to some unguarded, truthful part of himself speaking. "Why do you think I always go to you, no matter what happens? I was sitting here alone in the dark, wallowing in my misery, wishing that I could talk to you about it."
"That's the booze talking," she said modestly.
"It's the truth talking," he answered, his voice firm. The booze just set it free, he added to himself.
"Maybe you should tell that to Mike, since he obviously has lingering attachments for the pill popping bird lover." She looked away and sighed painfully.
"If Mike can't see everything that you are…" His hand wandered to her shoulder, lifting a lock of her silky blonde hair gently and studying it as if for the first time. "If he can't appreciate how astonishingly, unbelievably wonderful you are – he deserves the Valium addict."
"The same goes for Charlie," she answered insistently. "You are sweet,
kind…smart…handsome…and someday, the right woman is going to see everything that I see in you." Her words were beginning to slur slightly. "Why do you think I came here tonight? I could have gone to Monica…but I didn't. I came here…and you know I wasn't looking for Rachel."
Sting's voice reverberated through the room.
I resolved to call her up
A thousand times a day
And ask her if
She'll marry me
In some old fashioned way
But my silent fears
Have gripped me
Long before I reach the phone
Long before my tongue
Has tripped me
Must I always be alone?
Ross stared into her eyes, noticing the flecks of color that starred it like gold dust. In a rush of longing, he remembered every sensation of the kiss they'd shared on the pool table years ago. He knew he was drunk. He knew he was angry over Rachel and Charlie. But, more than anything else, he knew that he couldn't live one more minute without experiencing that kiss again.
Phoebe read his intentions the instant that they registered in his eyes. They lunged for each other, lips meeting in raw, clamoring need. Lust and insatiable want of her overwhelmed him. He immediately moved for the zipper on her dress.
She pushed him away roughly and moved a few inches down the couch. "That did not just happen."
"No, you're absolutely right. That didn't happen." He silently berated himself, wondering how he could have read her so wrong. I thought she wanted it too. Say something, he commanded himself.
There was no sound other than Sting's voice and their unsettled breathing. Ross tried valiantly to think of something to break the tension, anything to make things right and not lose her, his most trusted confidant.
"It didn't happen," Phoebe repeated as if she were trying to convince herself.
"It never happened," he responded, turning his face away in shame.
"But it's about to happen again," she said as she took his face in her hands and gave him a kiss that took his breath away.
She pushed him back on the couch and arranged herself on top of him as he kissed her feverishly, his hands returning to her zipper. He no longer cared about what had happened earlier that evening with the other women in his life. In fact, he couldn't remember why it seemed important in the first place.
"Phoebe," he moaned. "I want you so much…"
Something snapped her out of it, bringing her back to her normal realm of thinking. She got up rapidly and reached around to fix her zipper.
"This is wrong," she said in the decisive tone he knew so well. "I love Mike, you love –"
"I do not love Rachel!" he protested.
"But I do," she answered. "I can never, ever do this to her. Look at what's happened because of Joey's feelings for her. I'm not going to do that to her over you."
"This is different," he said weakly, knowing that it wasn't different at all.
"I love Mike," she reiterated. "He may not be my favorite person at the moment, but I love him…and you're my friend. Rachel is my friend. This was a mistake and we are never going to repeat it."
She walked past him to get her bag, her perfume floating across him like a sensual breeze, stirring his raging desire for her to the boiling point.
"I'm sorry, Ross." Her voice was choked. "Goodbye." She closed the door behind her, leaving him alone in a hormonal daze.
He rushed to the door to follow her out, but the minute his hand reached the doorknob, he knew that nothing he said would change her mind. His skin burned where she'd touched him. The taste of her kiss was a tantalizing reminder on his lips as her scent clung to his shirt.
He leaned his back against the door, his knees sinking under him.
In an instant, his beloved friend had become the object of an unquenchable yearning. He had crossed all the lines of propriety, broken all bounds of decency. He had violated the sanctity of their friendship. He had crossed the line.
And all he could think of was how much he wanted more.
It was hideously inappropriate. It was exactly like…
"Oh my God," he said aloud to himself. "I've turned into Joey."
~*~*~
"No good can come from having sex with Ross. No good can come from having sex with Ross." Phoebe repeated the words to herself like a drunken mantra as she walked back to her apartment, her boots clicking away on the pavement beneath her.
"No good can come from having sex with Ross."
Now if I can make myself believe that, she thought in a burst of clarity.
"No good can come from having sex with Ross."
~*~*~
7:00 A.M. on a Saturday morning. Ross stared at the clock beside his bed in disbelief. He had tossed and turned all night before falling into a fitful sleep filled with heat-soaked dreams of Phoebe.
He dragged himself from his bed and staggered to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face before stumbling to the kitchen and turning on the coffee pot. His head throbbed from alcohol and sleep deprivation.
Do not think of Phoebe, he ordered himself. Do not think of Phoebe.
He stepped out of the kitchen and into the living room, seeing the Tequila bottle she'd left behind on his coffee table.
Who am I kidding? I can't think of anything else.
He was filled with a conflicting set of responses. One to find this strangely enticing new Phoebe and throw her down on the nearest piece of furniture; the other to find the old Phoebe - the one he kept his secrets and listened to all of his troubles. He wanted nothing more than to pour his heart out to her about these insane feelings that thundered through him like a storm surge.
The problem was that she was both the cause and the solution.
~*~*~
Joey let himself into his apartment quietly, a blue-on-white shopping bag in his hand.
He had stopped to do some food shopping on the way back from Queens. A night at his parent's house had brought him no relief. He had thought of Rachel's dire predictions nonstop, of her seeming belief that they were doomed to spend their lives apart.
The trip to the grocery store had only added to his suffering. Usually his cart was divided into three sections: Rachel food, Emma food, and Joey food. But today, he had passed up the yogurt, tortilla chips, fat free cookies and orange juice that he always got for Rachel. His heart was heavy as he avoided the baby food isle completely. Even the display of graham crackers brought back painful memories. He never failed to pick up a box for Emma to snack on.
His bag contained only the basic staples of "Joey food" – potato chips, beer, sandwich items, and Frosted Flakes. It only made him miss her more.
He had never felt so alone.
As he put away his purchases, he hit the button on his answering machine to play his messages.
One from his mother, asking him to check in with her when he got home. One from Phoebe, sounding raspy and drained.
"Just wondering how you're doing…I heard about last night…call me." Hangover, he observed.
He was getting down his cereal bowl when the unmistakable voice of his agent blared through the speaker of the answering machine.
"Hey Joey. Since you passed up that movie role like an idiot, I came up with another idea to get you some publicity. I hired a girl to make you one of those dot com things, you know - that world wide web stuff."
Joey stopped to listen, intrigued. My own website – cool!
"Stop what you're doing and write this down," Estelle's recorded voice continued. Joey grabbed a pen and a scrap of paper from the drawer. "I set up a meeting for you this morning at 8:00 sharp at that coffee joint you live in. She needs to go over some stuff with you for the site." Joey jotted down the information. "Listen to me, Tribbiani – don't be late, don't screw this up, and don't sleep with her!"
Joey rolled his eyes at the machine. Like there was any chance of that happening…he hadn't so much as glanced at another woman since Barbados. The only way he got through his scenes with the actress playing "Olivia" was to pretend she was Rachel.
His own personal website. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it.
He glanced at his watch. 7:45.
"Oh my God," he exclaimed to himself. "I gotta run!" He took off for the coffee house to meet his web designer.
~*~*~
Rachel poured a cup of coffee with grim satisfaction. She took a sip, smiling appreciatively. There's one skill I learned the hard way, she thought with the same pride she always felt when she remembered her waitressing days. Whatever else goes wrong, I can always make the perfect pot of coffee.
She had awoken to the sounds of Emma stirring nearby in the bassinet. She'd spent the mostly sleepless night on Monica's couch, reeling with disappointment that Joey had left before she got there.
After getting Emma's breakfast from the baby bag, she took a shower in Monica's bathroom and slipped back into the Juicy Couture track suit she'd changed into last night before leaving Ross' apartment. After pushing her hair back into a ponytail and putting on minimal makeup, she'd made coffee and tried to make plans.
Monica, clad in pajamas, padded quietly out into the living room. "Mmm, Rachel coffee," she said with a drowsy smile. "I forgot how much I like that smell in the morning."
"Let me get you a cup," Rachel offered, standing up and going to the hooks that held Monica's cups.
"Actually, I'm trying to give it up…it's not the best thing for the baby."
"What can I get for you? Some juice?"
"Nah, I'll just get myself a glass of milk."
"No, no, no. You sit down and let me take care of you." Rachel would never forget how she felt in the mornings during her first trimester. She poured a tall glass of milk and set it before Monica on the table.
As usual, Monica wasted no time on small talk, but delved right in to the crux of the matter. "What are you and Ross and Joey going to do about this mess?" She took a coaster from their holder and put it under her glass. "This can't go on much longer. You're all three going crazy."
"Well, actually, I have a plan. Sort of."
"A sort of plan?" Monica took a tiny sip of her milk. "Sort of plans don't cut it, Rach. You need a real plan." She cleared her throat nervously. "Chandler and I were talking last night after we went to bed, and we have a solution for you."
Rachel sat back in her chair, curiosity stamped all over her face.
"We know that you'll have your own place in seven weeks when Mrs. Braverman moves out. But until then…" Monica reached across the table and put her hand over Rachel's. "Why don't you and Emma move back in here with us? Chandler can get the extra bed out of storage…it will be just like old times…"
Rachel was moved almost to tears by her friend's generosity. "It means so much to me for you to do this…but…this is your special time."
Monica opened her mouth to speak but Rachel silenced her with a hand. "You've waited so long for this – it's your turn. Emma and I need to be on our own."
"On your own? What do you mean?"
Rachel shrugged. "I left Long Island to find some independence. Since then, I've lived with you, with Phoebe, with Joey, and with Ross – someone always had my back. It's time for me to face the world on my own."
"This means you're definitely not going to live with Ross anymore?"
Rachel nodded. "If I can sleep on your couch for another night or two…"
"Of course," Monica answered.
"I'm going to pick up a paper today and check the ads – somewhere in this city has got to be a sane person who's not too creepy and needs a roommate for the next seven weeks."
"You don't have to do this," Monica said. "You are always, always welcome here."
"I need to do this." Rachel stood up and took her purse from the hanger. "I'm going to run down to the newsstand and pick up a paper. Can I bring you anything?"
"Well, now that you mention it," Monica peered into her milk, "A blueberry muffin would taste really good with this."
"One blueberry muffin, coming up." Rachel smiled and opened the door.
"Two," Monica called after her. "No, three!"
~*~*~
Joey thanked Gunther for the coffee and muffin and made himself comfortable in a chair with a good view of the door. He had no idea what the person he was meeting looked like or how he was supposed to know her. He didn't even know her name.
I guess she's seen me on TV and will find me, he thought, answering his own question.
He pictured how this girl would look. Your typical computer geek, he thought with a chuckle. Not that it mattered what she looked like. He was too excited about the prospect of showing his friends and family his very own website to be concerned with the appearance of its designer.
A woman making her way through the breakfast-time crowd caught his eye. That woman would catch anyone's eye, anywhere, he thought, taking in her petite 5'3" frame, glossy dark hair and luminous eyes. But there was something else captivating his attention, something familiar – a warm sense of memory accompanied that face. Not the awkward feeling he got when running into a woman he'd slept with and never called again. No, this was a different sensation altogether.
She was walking toward him, a smile of recognition lighting up her beautiful face.
"Joey? Do you remember me? I'm going to be your web designer!"
That's when he knew. He saw the tiny hand he'd held as she brought her daughter into the world, and gazed back into the lovely eyes that had gripped his heart on that long ago day.
"Oh my God – Lydia!"
A/N: Lydia is the single mother that Joey assisted as she gave birth during the season one episode "TOW The Birth". Her daughter was born at the same time that Carol was having Ben. She was played by Leah Remini, who currently plays "Carrie" on "The King Of Queens".
To be continued…
