Past & Present
Chapter 11: Weak
DISCLAIMER: I don't own "Friends" or any of the characters. If I did, things would obviously be a lot better.
THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: First of all, this story is now rated R – for a reason!
I might as well call the next two chapters "TOW The Fanfic Writer Pushes The Envelope", because that's certainly what I did.
We've got it all in the next two chapters: Deception. Betrayal. Self –sacrifice. Brazilian Waxes. A Steamy Shower Scene. Sex Games. Drunkenness. Fighting. Crab Cakes.
Due to the overwhelming wish of my readers that I "write hot" in this story, and that being my inclination anyway, you have a small sample of that in both chapters. I didn't exactly burn up the page, but I definitely got out the matches. It's perfectly in line with the two main character's state of mind at this point in the story, so I don't feel that it's gratuitous at all. Whether or not the readers enjoy it is another thing. I also feel that it stays within the boundaries of an R rating and does not cross the line into NC-17. If you disagree please let me know.
Incidentally, regarding the Phoebe subplot – my mother researches DNA and human genetics. I called her in to "consult" for this chapter. A same-day result fetal paternity test does in fact cost $900.00.
You were warned that this story would take a darker, more dramatic turn before it got better. I'm still going with that plan. If the slightly steamier approach is well received, it will also be maintained when it's appropriate for the story.
These two chapters took a lot out of me. They've been through numerous revisions. I'll be posting extensive story notes in my bio section for both chapters sometime soon. If they're not up when you read this, check back again later – the story notes will clarify a few points and explain how I arrived at certain conclusions. Also, that's where I post between-chapter updates and things of interest, in case you were wondering.
I took the title of this chapter from an old Belinda Carlisle song – "I Get Weak". I'm 29 and remember the 80's a little too well, I think, but it captures how Rachel is feeling in this chapter perfectly.
As always, reader feedback is appreciated and welcome, especially regarding the slightly hotter direction I chose for these chapters.
Finally: this chapter is dedicated to Kristine, who held my virtual hand during endless revisions and self-doubt; to Ashleigh, who inspired me to push the envelope with her own brilliant writing; and to Irene, for her unfailing support and banner-making abilities.
Read, review, and enjoy!
~*~*~
Rachel sat alone on the stoop for what seemed like an eternity. The sun began to set, the endless parade of taxis turned on their headlights, and the first stars appeared in the sky. Still, she sat there, thoughts turning like a relentless wheel in her mind.
One fact stood out above all others: Ross had shouldered the blame of a mistake he'd never made. For years, Chloe had been an albatross between them. Rachel had withheld forgiveness for what had happened, and Ross had gone from contrite to defensive to angry over the years. It had cost them not only their relationship, but had almost destroyed their friendship.
He had been through the marriages and divorces, the pointless relationships, the mental breakdown – countless setbacks for someone who had shown so much promise.
All for a mistake, Rachel thought, her heart aching, for something that never even happened.
In her memory, she saw herself in Monica's apartment, Ross down on his knees before her. He had begged her for another chance as they both struggled with tears. She hadn't given it to him.
All this time, he had believed in his guilt as much as she had. And it had nearly ruined his life.
A wind blew past Rachel, threatening to scatter Chandler's papers and bringing her back to reality. She gathered her things and made her way back to Monica's.
With every footstep, a thought resounded in her mind.
I owe it to him to let him have his family. I owe it to him to let him have his family.
He had lost so much because of her inability to get past this. Didn't she owe him that much?
As she rounded the corner, she caught the sight of the pink envelope containing her letter to Joey, peeking out the top of her purse like a dream you can't forget.
Even when you know you shouldn't remember it.
~*~*~
"Pregnant?" Ross sat down on his couch with a thud. "Oh my God…Pheebs…" He sought for the thing to say to fix this but no words could be found.
"Yeah, super fertile. That's me." A hint of her usual humor tinted her voice again for the moment. "Hopefully this time it'll be one baby, not a whole litter."
"But you just said –" Ross stopped, his mind trying to arrange the puzzle pieces into a cohesive whole. "You just said that it was over with you and Mike. You're telling me that he broke it off with you because of this baby?"
"He doesn't know about the baby yet." Phoebe sat down at the opposite end of the couch and stared out the window into Monica's apartment where Chandler could be seen furiously typing away on his laptop.
"What? Phoebe, you've got to tell him. He'll work this out with you –"
"It's not that simple." She siphoned self-control from some inner reservoir. "Don't you understand what's happened here?"
Ross simply shook his head no.
"Then I'll make it perfectly clear." Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears but her expression betrayed nothing. "There's at least a 50% chance that this is David's baby."
Ross felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Now her distress, her urgent escape to Montauk, everything suddenly fell into place.
"Now you know why this is the worst mess of my life," she continued. "I sent David away so I could be with Mike. I had no idea…" She couldn't finish her sentence.
The frost covering her emotions dissipated. She put her head on Ross' shoulder and cried.
~*~*~
"Are you going to tell me what happened with Joey or are you going to make me pry it out of you?"
Rachel looked up to see Monica in the door of her room, a pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.
"This is the good stuff," Monica continued as she took a seat beside Rachel on the Aerobed. "None of that fat-free crap." She handed Rachel the spoon. "Heartbreak ice cream."
Rachel took the pint of Ben & Jerry's with a grateful smile and dug in.
"Did you leave the letter for him?" Monica's blue eyes seemed to see everything. Rachel knew she had to admit to some secret, even though she wasn't ready to tell anyone about Chloe's revelation.
"Lydia has the place staked out," she sighed and scooped out a huge bite of Cherry Garcia. "I didn't leave the letter. It's still in my purse."
Monica curled up on the bed and got comfortable. "Why not?"
"Because…I don't know how to say it, exactly…." Because Lydia treats him better than I ever did. Because Lydia can give him a real commitment and I can't. Because I care about him too much to put him through any more of my mess with Ross. Because I owe Ross another chance.
Monica was still waiting for an answer. Rachel shrugged and tried to sound more reasonable than she felt.
"Because he and I aren't going to be able to work this out. It's better for him if he doesn't know how much I've fallen for him." She jabbed the spoon into the ice cream and put the carton on the floor.
Monica didn't give advice. She didn't criticize or make suggestions. She simply gave her best friend a much-needed hug.
~*~*~
"How could this be David's baby?" Ross held Phoebe's hand in his, overcome with sadness. For one of the few times in his life, he was feeling someone else's pain as if it were his own.
"We've only been back from Barbados, like, what – not quite a month? You know he went there with me…things happened before Mike showed up. We got a room with a mirror on the ceiling…"
Ross stopped her. "Ok – don't need that mental image."
Phoebe stood up and walked to the window, watching the crowded street below. "I've been so irregular since the triplets were born…invasive fertility procedures can do that to you. I didn't even realize that I was late."
"Are you sure you're –"
"I'm sure. I saw my doctor this morning."
"But how can you know that David is involved? Maybe it's Mike's baby – Mike will help you raise it…"
"The doctor and I did a little of what your sister likes to call 'period math'. It could be either of them. But I keep getting this full-on psychic vibe that this is David's baby." She crossed her arms in front of herself, assuming an angry posture. "As for Mike, I'm so sure Mr. I'm-So-Afraid-Of-Commitment is going to jump through rings of fire when he finds out I'm having a baby." She rolled her eyes. "Especially if it's not his baby."
"There are tests, you know – I was reading about one the other day in 'The Scientific American' – early stage fetal paternity tests that only require a blood sample from the mother and the alleged father. You could get a sample from David and leave Mike out of it for now. Then if David is eliminated as the father, you'll know it's Mike's baby." Ross started shuffling through the magazines on his coffee table to locate the article for her.
"Down, Science Boy. I'm two steps ahead of you on that." Phoebe took her seat on the couch again. "My doctor set me up at some DNA testing place. I talked to David this morning and he already gave his blood sample."
Ross treaded carefully with his next question. "Did you give yours yet?"
She rubbed her eyes like a tired little girl. "I don't want to face this. David wanted to go with me, but I don't want either he or Mike involved until I know for sure…"
Ross took her hand again. "You don't have to go it alone. I'll take you, I'll wait with you for the results, I'll even hold your hand while they get out the needle."
Phoebe was impressed. "You'd do that for me? I know how you feel about needles."
He squeezed her hand and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I'll be with you every step of the way. No matter who the father of this baby turns out to be, you'll have me for your backup."
Phoebe was quiet, considering. Finally she leaned her head on Ross' shoulder and whispered in his ear.
"Her name is Roxanne."
She pulled back and smiled.
"How do you know it's a her?"
"Because she's already talking to me. She told me that she's a girl and she wants to be named after you."
He didn't need to be asked why the name Roxanne had a connection with him. He didn't stop to analyze why he was able to accept her conviction that a three-week old embryo was speaking to her. When Phoebe said things like that, you believed her, even when you'd have someone else put away for saying the same thing.
"Come on. I'll take you and Roxanne to the testing center and we'll find out, ok?" He stood up and offered her his hand.
She took his hand and rose to her feet, looking pale and terrified.
"Can't we go see my psychic instead? You know, she's pretty good with this kind of thing – she can tell us who the father is."
Ross tilted his head to the side and looked at her.
"Yeah, the clinic is on the East 83rd." She followed Ross out the door.
~*~*~
"You didn't have to do that for me, you know."
Ross looked away from the chart about human DNA hanging from the wall of the examining room. "I wanted to do it." He shrugged, embarrassed by her gratitude for what was such a small thing to him.
"If you hadn't given them a check to cover it, I couldn't have asked for the expedited results. I'd have to go home and sit by the phone, waiting to find out."
"It really was no big thing." This much was true. $900.00 was not a huge sum of money for him, and if it bought her some peace of mind, it was worth it.
Phoebe scooted off the table, wrinkling the thin paper covering as she went. She crossed the room to the spot where Ross sat in a hard chair covered with ugly brown upholstery and bent down to put her arms around his neck. "You're my hero," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
"Ms. Buffay?" The nurse poked her head through the door.
Phoebe let go of Ross and stood up, instantly on alert. "Yes?"
"I have your results." The nurse ambled in, closing the door behind her. Ross marveled at the calm with which this woman handled the situation, casually dispensing words that would change someone's life forever.
Phoebe clutched Ross' hand. "And?"
The nurse flipped open the chart and looked at the data for seconds that seemed like hours.
"It's a match."
Phoebe went cold. "A match?"
The nurse glanced over the chart again and flipped it shut. "The fetal DNA is a match for the specimen provided by the paternity sample. It's one in several million. You have the father correctly identified."
Ross felt as if he'd fallen through an elevator shaft.
"We have to release the results to the father," the nurse continued. "We have his contact information on record."
"Please," Phoebe pleaded, "let me tell him myself."
The nurse nodded. "Is there anything else you need?" She was brusque, efficient.
"No…I'm good." The nurse turned to leave the room, then stopped and opened the chart again.
"Did you want to know the sex of the baby? I have the information right here – no extra cost, we include that determination in every test we conduct…"
"I already know," Phoebe sounded like herself again for an instant. "But you can confirm it for me."
The nurse cracked a smile like a jack-o-lantern. "You're having a girl. Congratulations." She nodded a perfunctory goodbye and left.
Ross didn't know what to say. He only knew that he had to say something.
"Pheebs – I'm so sorry – "
"Don't be." She tore her hand away from him and got her purse and coat. "I won't be alone during this."
"No, you won't be." He was emphatic as he helped her into her coat. "I'll be with you – I'll get you through this. We'll go to Lamaze classes, we'll get baby furniture…this could actually be fun for us."
She whipped around and faced him. "No, Ross – don't do this."
His face held an expression of surprise. "Don't do what?"
"Don't make plans for us. There's something you should know."
Ross swallowed hard. "What is it?"
Her eyes were like ice over a churning river. "David and I made a deal when we talked this morning."
If there was a faster drop than falling down an elevator shaft, Ross had just discovered it.
"He promised me that this baby wouldn't grow up the way I did – not knowing my real mother, no father, orphaned at fourteen."
Ross nodded, not sure where she was going with this.
"And I promised him that I'd never cut him out of this baby's life, if he turned out to be the father…which he is." She paused for several heartbeats.
"I promised David that I'd marry him."
~*~*~
Three days had gone by since Phoebe's news became public knowledge. With David's microscopic diamond on her left hand, she'd told them all – except Ross, who was keeping to himself that week. One morning in Central Perk, she gave them the minimum information: she and David were expecting a baby girl and were planning to be married in one month.
Mike hadn't taken the news well. He'd placed several late night calls to Rachel, an odd sort of camaraderie springing up between them as they compared notes on their mutual difficulties. But he was able to admit that, despite his love for Phoebe, he wasn't ready for fatherhood. His previous marriage had been so difficult that he couldn't consider the possibility of starting another marriage with a baby on the way…a baby that wasn't his.
Four days later, Ross brought Emma over to stay with Rachel. Chandler was waiting, ready to pounce. As soon as Rachel and Monica were busy with Emma, Chandler dragged Ross out to the balcony.
"Where have you been?" Chandler began the interrogation.
"Busy." Ross sat down on the ledge. "Doing stuff. You know."
"I guess you heard about Phoebe…"
Ross cut him off. "Yeah. I heard."
"Did that have anything to do with you two sneaking away in Monica's car last weekend?" Chandler peered at Ross, ready to detect the smallest deception.
"You might say that." Ross stood up, ready to go back into the apartment and evade the issue.
"Hey, not so fast." Chandler pulled him back from the window. "You can't run off with Phoebe and not explain what's going on."
Ross turned and leaned against the wall. He wanted to tell someone. Wouldn't it be a relief to finally unburden himself?
"If I tell you…you have to promise – no, swear – swear that you won't tell Monica."
Chandler's eyes popped. This must be huge. "I swear."
"Ok." Ross walked back to the ledge and propped his elbows on it, leaning over to gaze at the view below. "Lately, I've sort of had…feelings…" He took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. "Thoughts…about Phoebe."
Chandler didn't answer. Instead he began digging through a small bag of charcoal briquettes and unearthed an ancient pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
"Look, man, there's no need to start smoking again over this." Ross stared, alarmed as Chandler lit one up and took a long drag.
"Ha! You're not the one caught in the middle of this, again."
"Again? What do you mean, again?"
"No no no no. No side-stepping. You answer this first. How does she feel about you?"
Ross sighed pitifully. "I would guess by the ring on her finger - not very strongly."
"Does she know?" Chandler walked over to the ledge and tapped some ash away.
"She knows." Ross watched Chandler smoke for a few seconds, letting a lull fall between them. The rest of the story was weighing on him. He wanted to get it all out to someone. If you're gonna come clean, do it all the way, he told himself. "There's something else…"
"Oh, God…what?"
Ross shoved his hands into his coat pockets and stared at the concrete floor. "We sort of…kissed."
Chandler almost dropped his cigarette on Gunther who was walking through the street below. "You what?"
"We kissed a couple of times."
"A couple of times? Yeah, that's not wrong. That's not wrong at all! Since it only happened more than once!"
"Come on, Chandler, what do you want me to say? That I'm sorry? Because I'm not, ok?"
Chandler stubbed out his cigarette and covered his eyes with his hands. "Make it stop…I can't watch this."
"Dramatic, much?"
"Look, you didn't live through the whole Joey loves Rachel saga the way I did. You only got in on the tail end of that fiasco. I can't live through this a second time." He tapped another cigarette out of the pack and lit up. "You've got a thing for your pregnant friend who's engaged to someone else. Yeah, that is so not Joey and Rachel all over again." He blew a cloud of smoke at Ross. "Hideously Inappropriate 2: This time, it's personal."
"You can stop making a big thing out of this. It's not like anything is ever going to happen with us. I mean, the baby and David pretty much rule that out."
"That's what Joey thought too." Chandler stepped around Ross, taking a quick look in the window to make sure Monica was out of earshot. "This is so wrong, Ross."
Ross fell back on an old argument. "Dude, you slept with my sister."
Chandler threw his hands out in a dramatic gesture. "I married your sister, and, last time I checked, Monica wasn't pregnant with David's baby!" Chandler shook his head in disbelief. "Besides, it's Phoebe! Dude, we don't kiss Phoebe. We don't picture Phoebe naked –"
"Maybe you don't," Ross interjected.
"We don't even have sex dreams about Phoebe unless we accidentally caught one Ursula's movies on cable the night before!" Chandler put out his cigarette and returned the pack and lighter to their hiding place. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go take a shower and use an entire bottle of mouthwash."
~*~*~
As Chandler took his smoke banishing shower and Monica took a nap, Ross pulled Rachel aside for a moment. "I need to talk to you about something." He settled down on the white couch as she and Emma took a seat beside him.
"What is it?" She handed Emma a bottle of apple juice, hiding her face from Ross lest he see the secret about Chloe written all over it.
"I talked to my grandma this morning."
"Oh, the one in Florida?"
"Yeah…the other one is kind of dead."
Rachel nodded, embarrassed. Ross picked up where he'd left off. "Anyway, she had an interesting suggestion."
Rachel looked at him, intrigued. "Do tell."
"She hasn't seen Ben since he was a baby…and she's never seen Emma. I have some vacation time coming, and my TA can handle almost everything for five days or so."
Rachel knew what was next.
"I was thinking…since Monica got the go ahead to get back on her feet a little…I was thinking we might take both of the kids down to Florida and visit grandma for five days or so."
This was her chance. Rachel saw it as if it had been preordained. Five days away from everyone and everything she knew. She'd work up the courage to tell Ross the truth about Chloe. She'd find out if there were anything left of their relationship that could be salvaged. And she could begin to reconcile herself to life without Joey.
She drew a resigned breath. "When do you want to leave?"
"I was thinking Saturday."
"But – that's only three days from now!"
"I know…I just…" He stopped himself before he said too much. "I need to get away for a while."
She didn't press the issue, having too many of her own reasons for getting away. "I'll start packing tonight."
~*~*~
Rachel began her vacation the next day with an appointment at the spa. She got her hair cut and highlighted, a facial, a manicure, a pedicure, and in a fit of daring aided by Ibuprofen, got a Brazilian wax. She followed her morning at the spa with an afternoon of shopping, trying to lose herself in her favorite form of therapy.
When she walked in the door to Monica's apartment loaded down with shopping bags, she was surprised to see David seated next to Phoebe on the couch, chatting with Monica and Chandler like an old friend.
"Vacation clothes?" Phoebe asked.
"Yeah, just a few things for the trip." Rachel set the bags on the floor.
Monica smiled eagerly. "Show us. It's going to be a long time before Phoebe and I can go shopping for bikinis again." She craned her neck to look at one of the shopping bags. "Or at Victoria's Secret, for that matter."
"They don't make maternity clothes?" Chandler was crestfallen. Monica and Phoebe gave him a chastising stare. "I'm just sayin'…."
Rachel held up one of the four bikinis she'd purchased. "Not easy to find these in New York this time of year."
"What's in the bag from Victoria's?" Phoebe tried to peek inside the bag before Rachel snatched it away.
"It's underwear. Why is everyone so interested in my underwear today?" She didn't want anyone to know that she'd gone on a lingerie shopping binge. It seemed everything in the store was something that Joey would love or something she'd want to wear for him just to see his exaggerated teenage boy reaction to it. She couldn't resist buying some of it. Even though I'm the only one who will ever see most of it, she added to herself.
The others saw unhappiness drifting over her face like clouds covering the sun. David stuttered in helpfully.
"You look –you look, well, quite stunning. It must be the new highlights, but I must say, uh, well, you are the very picture of pulchritude, dear."
Rachel saw the sincerity underneath his awkward words. "Thank you." She rewarded him with a warm smile.
"I see a bag from Prada," Chandler sing-songed.
"He's really not gay," Monica told David.
Rachel pulled out a burgundy dress with a short skirt and plunging neckline. "Burgundy is the color for fall…had to have it."
"Oh, this is great!" Phoebe reached over and felt the fabric admiringly. "You should wear this to the party tonight!"
Rachel nearly dropped her dress. "What party?"
"We're all going to Delmonico's to celebrate Phoebe and David's engagement," Monica answered.
Delmonico's. Rachel had a flashback of a memorable visit to Delmonico's.
"I uh…I think I'm falling in love with you."
She shook it off, trying to erase her mind like an etch-a-sketch. "Who is 'all' of us?"
"Well, you, me, Chandler, Ross, and of course Phoebe and David. Ross is taking Emma to my parent's house even as we speak." Rachel heard a false note in Monica's tone. Her friend was holding something back.
"You guys aren't going to invite Joey?" She spoke slowly, playing the dumb cheerleader to her advantage.
Monica gave Chandler a look. He hung his head in shame. "Yes, Joey will be there…with Lydia."
Rachel threw her bags down and rose to her feet in a rage. "Lydia! Who invited Lydia, for God's sake?"
Chandler slithered down in the chair as Monica answered. "Joey came by for a minute to see Phoebe. Lydia was over there finishing up the web site and tagged along. Chandler invited him to the dinner party with Lydia standing right there. We couldn't not invite her after that."
"This is just wonderful!" Rachel gathered up her bags in a huff and stomped to her room. "Now I have to spend my last night before I go to Florida watching Lydia hump Joey's leg like a Chihuahua on steroids!"
"Delmonico's has awesome cheesecake," Phoebe called to Rachel's retreating back.
~*~*~
Rachel looked at her reflection. She'd been locked in her room for almost two hours primping for Phoebe's party but the results were worth it. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was just right for an evening out. The new dress was carefully placed on her bed, ready for her to put on. The new bra gave her cleavage like she'd never had before. The only thing missing was some shimmering lotion to give her a little extra glow.
She tied on a short silky robe, one of her purchases for the trip to Florida, and headed for the bathroom to get the lotion from the medicine cabinet.
Her thoughts were occupied with the trip, with seeing Joey and Lydia together, and with some secret hope that she could still manage to have one night with him before she left. For all she knew, it might be their last chance.
The sound of water running in the bathroom stopped her from walking in. She turned and went to Monica's room instead.
Monica was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when Rachel opened the door. "Honey, can you go get my lotion out of the bathroom? Chandler's in the shower and there's no way I'm going in there."
"Oh, it's not Chandler." Monica laughed. "It's Joey. His shower stopped working and Treeger shows no signs of fixing it tonight."
"Joey's in our shower?"
"Yes," Monica repeated Rachel's excited tone. "Joey's in our shower."
That was all the encouragement she needed. She pulled her robe on a little tighter and made hot tracks to the bathroom.
She opened the door and stepped inside where a thick cloud of steam enveloped her.
"It's just me," she called to Joey over the hum of the shower.
He shut the water off. "Can you hand me a towel?"
She took one of Monica's giant bath towels from the rack and passed it over the top of the shower curtain to him. "I just came to get my lotion," she explained as she removed it from the medicine cabinet. She closed the door to the cabinet with an unsteady hand, wondering why she didn't just leave, why it was so hard to walk out of any room that had him in it.
He pushed the shower curtain back and stepped out, the towel wrapped snugly around his waist, water droplets all over his skin. He rumpled his hair with a hand. "I've gotta go home and get some gel on this stuff."
Don't go there, she warned herself, fighting the swell of yearning that threatened to take her breath away.
What the hell, you've got two more days with him, she answered herself, go where ever you want.
She put her lotion down and took a small towel from the rack. "You're all wet…let me dry you off."
Before he could reply, she was rubbing the thick terry cloth towel over his shoulders and back.
"What are you doing, Rachel?" His voice was heavy with arousal.
"Is it working?" She bit her lip, waiting for his reply.
He spun her around in front of him and claimed her lips in a long, burning kiss that left her knees to collapse under her. She could only utter one word when he dragged his lips away from hers.
"More."
He lifted her from the floor, placing her on the edge of the sink before covering her mouth with his. She responded eagerly by rubbing his shoulders in slow, lazy circles. He pulled her closer, crushing her against him. She parted her lips to give his seeking tongue greater access as she locked her legs around him, pushing the center of her raging desire against his in a way that elicited a sound of tormented longing from him. His tongue swirled around hers, heating the kiss to an unbearable degree and sending a surge of adrenaline to every nerve in her body. She forgot about Monica on the other side of the apartment, or that she was leaving for Florida with Ross in two days. Without caution or second thoughts, she gave herself over to the intensity of the moment.
Her soft wordless protest sounded throughout the room when he took his lips from hers. He moved his hands from her waist in back to the front where her robe closed. He took the ties in his hands, slowly pulling out the bow that held it closed until they lay slack in his hands. She saw a tremor of nervousness flicker across his face. The guy who had slept with four out of five women in New York City was anxious about going this far with her. She understood his reticence and it only made her want him more.
She put her hands on his face and pulled him back for another kiss. "Don't worry, sweetie. It's going to be fine." She slid her hands from his face, down to his shoulders, then let them hover at the spot where the towel fastened around him. "We're practicing for the big event, that's all."
He pushed her hair back and covered her face with soft, affectionate kisses. "It's different, because it's us, you know?" She nodded, guiding his lips back to hers. "I just love you so much." She inched further down the edge of the sink and drew him closer, pulling him into another heart-stopping kiss. He broke away and leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. "I want it to be perfect for you."
She wrapped her legs tighter around him and brushed her fingers through his damp hair as his lips found hers again. He lavished attention on her bottom lip, denying her thirst for full contact with his sweet, warm mouth. His kisses journeyed to the corner of her mouth and then down her neck, unhurried and uninterrupted.
Her breathing grew faster as her muted moans grew more fervent. He extricated himself from her arms and arranged them at her sides.
"Oh, God…I love the way you taste…the way you feel…" His hands parted her robe just enough to slide it down her shoulders, his hands skimming over her bare skin, sliding under the straps of her Victoria's Secret bra. "I love those little sounds you make…"
"Yeah, well, I don't!" Monica's voice shattered the blurry atmosphere of the bathroom.
Joey and Rachel stood as still as a pair of statues in an adult art gallery.
Monica tapped briskly on the door. "My parents can hear you all the way out on Long Island."
Rachel heaved a sigh and loosed her hold on Joey. "We need to stop and finish getting dressed for the party." She traced the outline of his lips with her finger.
"I know." He kissed her again, less ardent this time, more sedate. "What do you say maybe…after the party tonight…when everyone's gone to bed…you drop by my place?"
"I don't see why not," she said, hoping he didn't see the guilt in her eyes. Here we go again. I'm trying to work in one night with him before everything changes.
He pulled away from her and turned the shower on again.
"Why are you doing that?" She watched as he stepped back in and drew the curtain shut before throwing his towel over the curtain rod.
"I uh…I need some cold water right now."
The encounter ended with a laugh as Rachel, lotion in hand, let herself out of the bathroom to finish dressing.
~*~*~
A/N: Keep going to the next chapter, it picks up later that night.
