Past & Present
Past & Present
Chapter 14: Someday Is Tonight
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them, but quite happy about all the recent spoilers.
THE PREMISE: Rachel must choose between her past and her future. Will tragedy be the result?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Only one more chapter to go after this! The song used in this chapter is "I Want You To Want Me", originally by Cheap Trick, and later covered by Letters To Cleo. Or something like that. The title of the chapter is from a song of the same name by Janet Jackson (listen to it when you read the chapter for an enhanced experience!). More author's note at the end of the chapter.
Read, review, and enjoy!
~*~*~
"I want you to want me" Ross sang, picking out the melody of the song on the rickety upright piano.
"I need you to need me"
Ross glanced over his shoulder. The door to the recreation hall at his grandmother's retirement community was closed. He had the place to himself.
The clock on the wall above the piano caught his eye. Rachel and Joey should be knee deep in their reunion right about…now.
But it didn't bother him. Amazingly enough, the only feeling he could conjure up was one of vague envy that they finally had each other. Meanwhile, he had no one.
He sat there scratching out a song on the piano, knowing Phoebe and David would be married in two weeks.
"I'd love you to love me
I'm begging you to beg me"
All she had to do was ask, he thought impatiently. If she wanted someone to hold her hand, to help her through pregnancy and labor, even to help her raise Roxanne – all she had to do was ask.
He was ready, willing, and able.
"I want you to want me
I need you to need me
I'd love you to love me
I'll shine up the old brown shoes, put on a brand-new shirt
I'll get home early from work if you say that you love me…"
He stopped, off-key. How could she marry David when she didn't love him anymore? When, for years, Phoebe had been everything to him? Best friend, shoulder to cry on, consolation – soul mate.
Now she would be David's everything. And Ross would have to sit by and watch, knowing that the person who'd been his rock had other obligations.
If she'd just wake up and see it – see that the only people who understood either one of them was each other.
He began to bang out the tune on the piano.
"Didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?
Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?
Feelin' all alone without a friend, you know you feel like dyin'
Oh, didn't I, didn't I, didn't I see you cryin'?"
The familiar tone of his cell phone drowned out the piano's feeble music. He picked it up and looked at the caller ID.
It was Phoebe's cell number.
His heart climbed into his throat when he answered it.
"Pheebs?"
"Yeah, it's me." He could hear her breathing over the line.
Say you changed your mind. Say you're not going to marry David.
"Look, Ross…something terrible has happened."
He turned to the window by instinct to look at his children. Ben and Emma were on the beach with his grandmother's attendant.
"What? Is it the baby? Are you ok?"
"No, it's not me. I'm fine, Roxanne is fine. Ross…"
"Phoebe, just tell me."
"It's Joey."
~*~*~
Dim sounds filtered in and out of Rachel's consciousness. Half-lucid impressions pushed against each other her mind, trying to force their way to the surface.
The montage spun back and forth behind her closed eyes. The radio in the cab, Joey's deserted apartment, the yellow sheet of paper with his flight number written in Monica's hand, the burning wreckage on the TV screen.
It changed speeds. Chandler's voice grew slower until it sounded like a fiend over the loudspeaker at a haunted house on Halloween.
She rolled over, realizing that she was still on the Aero bed in Monica's future nursery, in the exact spot where Chandler had left her after he'd carried her in there.
The monotone of a twenty-four hour cable news station carried itself from the living room. They'd even come up with an ominous yet catchy instrumental theme song for the crash, coming back from each commercial break by launching into its eerie strain.
The crash. Joey…
The onslaught of memories was too much to bear. Her mind simply shut down.
~*~*~
Phoebe let herself back into Monica's apartment from the hallway.
"Did you talk to him?" Monica removed the wad of Kleenex from her eyes to look at Phoebe.
"He's waiting by the phone…he said when we know something…"
Monica's eyes shifted to the balcony, where Chandler had a cigarette in one hand and a phone in the other. "It could be a while before we know anything. The airline isn't taking any calls, the police said they have to notify the families first…so Chandler is talking to Joey's mom right now."
Phoebe flopped down on the couch beside Monica. "What about –" She pointed at the closed door of the room occupied by Rachel.
Monica shook her head. "Not good."
"I don't know what's worse, waiting to find out what happened to him, or watching this happen to her." Phoebe's face crumpled. "Mon, if anything has happened to him…I don't know what will happen to us."
Monica put her arms around Phoebe. "I know."
The goldfish cracker commercial ended, cueing up the news anchor. "Returning now to continuous coverage of the crash of flight 113…"
Phoebe and Monica burst into tears.
~*~*~
Hours had passed and still, the vigil continued.
Chandler paced the balcony, jumping through his skin every time the phone rang. He had cursed a telemarketer to hell and back and smoked his way through his only pack of hidden cigarettes.
Monica hadn't objected. "Hey, if you run out, I'll buy you another pack." She'd handed him her kitchen lighter when his stopped working.
He'd talked to Joey's sobbing, hysterical mother, who knew nothing. He'd called Lydia and dealt with her caustic anger over being relegated to web designer instead of live-in personal assistant. She hadn't heard from Joey and wasn't even aware of the plane crash. Chandler didn't tell her. He simply asked her to let him know if she heard from Joey and hung up when she launched into another tirade about her certainty that Rachel had convinced Joey to end their working relationship.
Chandler sighed. Lydia was one person he wouldn't miss.
He glanced in the window at his wife and friend.
Phoebe, curled up in the big chair, had fallen into a deep sleep – a combination of emotional exhaustion and early pregnancy.
Monica sat like a statue in front of the TV, as if she expected to see Joey somehow climb out of that hideous disaster and wave at the camera.
Rachel hadn't stirred from her bedridden stupor in hours.
If anyone could climb out of that mess, it would be Joey. Chandler shook his head, thinking of all the times when Joey had been the one with all the common sense. Unlocking the cab door with a bra wire – turning off the heater at the Christmas party from hell…
A glimmer of hope sparked inside Chandler like the last flicker from his cigarette lighter. His best friend – his brother in every sense of the word – had to come through this. Somehow, some way…
He let himself in when it began to rain again, standing by the open window and staring out at the downpour.
Chandler refused to give up hope. Or, as he ruefully reflected to himself, hope refused to give up Chandler.
~*~*~
Rachel gasped and sat up on the bed.
A nightmare. She'd had a nightmare. Disoriented, she fumbled for the lamp beside her bed and turned it on.
The light hurt her eyes. "Where am I?" She swept the room with narrowed eyes. Monica's spare room. The TV was on in the living room, loud and repetitious. It was raining outside.
Then she knew. It was no nightmare.
Her shocked mind came back to full awareness and she began to shake uncontrollably.
He was gone, gone and never coming back. Never coming home, never coming back to her. Never. The word carried with it a new finality she'd never experienced before.
She would never see him again.
Her eyes dragged themselves to the door with a will of their own. She'd never look up to see him bursting through a door again without knocking.
She'd hate doors for the rest of her life if he couldn't walk through hers just one more time.
Her hand touched the bed beneath her and memory charged in with the force of an invasion. She saw herself crawling into bed with him the night she'd decided to move back in with Ross. The way his eyes met hers in the darkness, the way he felt when she wrapped her arms around him. How he'd offered her comfort with no strings attached and let her fall asleep beside him.
The look on his face when she'd turned back for one last glance in the hall, after she'd ended it…
She gaze returned to the door. Opening the door of room 1202 and seeing him standing on the other side with such hope in his eyes, hope that they'd finally find a way to be together.
She heard someone weeping. It took a moment for her to recognize the sound was her own voice.
Every look, every word, every touch rushed back to her, refusing to let her forget. They demanded to be remembered then and there. Too weak from grief and pain to fight it, she gave in and let despair crush her with its relentless weight.
The door opened slowly and Phoebe's face appeared. Without a word, Phoebe joined Rachel on the bed. "Rachel?"
Rachel's mourning had no room for intruders.
"Rachel? Look at me."
When Rachel's eyes remained closed, tears pouring forth like a waterfall, Phoebe continued.
"I just woke up from a nap, and I have the most peaceful feeling."
No acknowledgement. Phoebe shrugged. "I think he's all right." She leaned in to whisper, as if confiding a great secret. "I gave him my lucky ring."
Rachel opened an eye and stared at Phoebe. Ah, breakthrough, Phoebe congratulated herself.
"What ring?" Rachel raised herself up on an elbow.
"You know, my crystal ring, the one that belonged to my mom. I gave it to Joey before he left."
Rachel confirmed that it wasn't on Phoebe's hand like it usually was. "But – how does that have anything to do with –" her voice broke.
"It will keep him safe. It always kept me safe, and I had a lot of close calls. Believe me, you do not want to see my rap sheet." Phoebe smiled, more than a little of her trademark humor in evidence.
Rachel gave Phoebe a patient but feeble smile. "Sweetie – as much as we all want to find some hope – I don't think a ring could save anyone from…" She couldn't finish. A flashback of the crash site turned her stomach and halted her words.
"Oh, well, you nonbelievers will be eating some crow when I turn out to be right." Phoebe stood up and smoothed down her long skirt. "I'm going to go make some tea for all four of us, and you're going to drink it."
Rachel watched Phoebe exit, her skirt swirling around her like a cloud. If only Phoebe could be right for once…she'd make a thousand deals with God if Joey could come back to her.
It felt like the burning, twisted wreck had occurred inside her. Rachel put her head down on the pillow and counted her heartbeats, tears rolling down her face unchecked.
~*~*~
Phoebe reached into the cupboard and took out four mugs, checking out of habit to see the numbers on the bottom of each. She removed the lid from Monica's perfectly organized tea caddy and selected four bags of Orange Spice flavor, humming the tune to "Sticky Shoes" as she worked.
Chandler had given up his watch on the balcony and had fallen asleep on the couch. Monica remained on the floor in front of the TV.
The tea kettle whistled. Phoebe turned off the burner beneath it then looked up when a loud knock sounded on the door.
She shot a glance to Monica, who stood up and crossed the room in a few steps. She shrugged at Phoebe before looking through the peephole.
"Oh my God!" Monica looked back at Phoebe, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
She opened the door and a familiar nasal voice cut through the silence like a dagger.
"Monica Bing!"
Chandler sat up like a shot. "Janice?"
"Hey, hey, Bing-a-ling!" Janice barged through the door.
Monica gave Chandler a look that said 'I'll handle this'. "Janice, this really isn't a good time…"
Janice brushed off Monica's words with a hand. "Time, shmime. I brought you something from the airport." She announced it in a sing-song voice followed by a braying laugh.
Chandler stood up, face reddening. "I don't know what you're here for, Janice, but airports are not a good subject with us today."
Janice tossed her hair, her earrings jangling. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger! I was just giving Joey a ride home, and we decided to go to New Haven –"
Phoebe turned over the kettle, scalding water going everywhere. "Oh my God!"
Chandler jumped over the back of the couch and grabbed Janice's arm. "What? Joey?"
"Down, big boy." Janice laughed again. "I was dropping Sid off at the airport, and ran into Joey – he was looking for some ring that used to be yours –" She pointed at Phoebe. "Then we got to talking…and –"
"Stop. You mean Joey is alive?"
"Of course he's alive. What else would he be?" Janice cackled. "Chandler Bing, you're always such a drama queen!"
Rachel appeared in the doorway of the bedroom like a ghost slowly finding its way to the land of the living.
Chandler shook Janice's arm slightly. "Where the hell is he then?"
"Don't be such a grouch. He's downstairs, parking my Lexus so I wouldn't have to walk in the rain. Isn't he the sweetest? You know he-"
They were all interrupted when Rachel ran across the room and bounded out the door.
"Where's the fire, honey?" Janice called after her. "Ah, love…we remember what it was like…right Chandler?" She laughed and gave him a knowing wink.
~*~*~
Down the stairs two at a time. The sound of her feet pounding the stairs competed with her heart racing in her ears.
She slammed herself against the exit door to push it open and hit the wet sidewalk with both feet.
She stopped, rain pelting her from every direction while she scanned the street with her eyes. She didn't see a Lexus or Joey anywhere.
She ran down the sidewalk, raindrops hitting her face, coating her hair, soaking her shirt. She reached the corner and ran without looking at the crossing light.
The hazy form of a silver car and a guy with dark hair behind the wheel appeared in her line of vision. She raced down the sidewalk. She couldn't get there fast enough. She would only believe he was real when she could put her arms around him.
She missed falling into a puddle by an inch. A horn honked at her when she crossed the street. She heard the shouts of a cab driver telling her to watch what she was doing. She didn't look back.
Rain splashed up from the curb when she stepped down, saturating the hem of her jeans. The car was directly across from her. There was no mistaking it. Joey had just stepped out of the car.
He glanced up and did a double take at the sight of Rachel running toward him, drenched in rain and looking as if she'd seen a supernatural apparition.
She hurled herself at him, wrapping her arms around him in a grip that nearly knocked him over. He was warm and alive and hers, forever.
"Rach! What's wrong?" He put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back to look down at her face. "What are you doing here?"
"I lied to you!" She shouted above the sounds of traffic and sirens and rain that hummed like white noise. "That night at the restaurant, when I said I didn't believe in soul mates anymore. I lied to you!"
He shook his head, droplets of rain flying from his black hair. "I don't –"
She interrupted. "You're mine – you're my soul mate – you always have been and you always will be. I've been lying to both of us, pretending that you're not."
Concern and shock mixed in his face. "But – but what about –"
"What about what? None of that means anything now." She stood on her tiptoes to stare into his eyes. "You've come back to me! That's all that matters, and as long as we live, nothing will ever keep us apart."
He didn't answer her with words. Instead he pulled her against him for a kiss that made what happened at the door of room 1202 seem restrained, both heedless of the rain that poured down around them.
~*~*~
"Start at the beginning." Monica sat down in the big chair with Chandler. "You got to the airport, checked your baggage, and went to a restroom. Then what?"
Phoebe finished wrapping a blanket around Joey and Rachel, who sat beside each other on the couch. They were both dripping with rain and for once Monica wasn't concerned about her white couch.
Rachel wrapped her hand around his and put her head on his shoulder. He smiled at her, still dazed at this sudden turn of events.
"I went to the bathroom and I was washing my hands. I looked in the mirror and noticed that Phoebe's ring was gone." He turned to look at Phoebe, who was perched on the arm of the couch. "I'm really sorry I lost your ring, Pheebs."
"It did its job and has gone on to a better place." Phoebe shrugged with a philosophical smile.
"I thought maybe it had fallen down the drain. The chain broke, or something. So I got a maintenance guy in there to stick this wire thing down the drain – it took like an hour to get him in there, then I don't know how long we spent digging in the drain." He shuddered. "Really gross stuff in there. Anyway, by that time I had missed my flight."
"Thank God," Rachel whispered before kissing his cheek, leaving a perfect lipstick mark.
"Then what?" Monica leaned forward.
"Needless to say, all my clothes went with the plane. So I reported that to the airline and gave them Estelle's number to reach me. Then I went to this little restaurant inside the airport and bought a sandwich. I was just going to have a snack then go book another flight, but –" He paused.
Rachel propped her chin on his shoulder. "But what, sweetie?"
He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a wrinkled pink envelope. "I read this."
Rachel gasped. "My letter!" She reached to take it from him and he held it out of her reach.
"Uh-uh, I'm keeping this." He put it back in his pocket.
"Wait a minute." Monica raised her voice an octave. "You read that letter and it stopped you from getting on another flight?"
Joey nodded. "Every page, front and back."
Rachel hugged him, so happy that it scared her.
"How could I leave, after reading this? I knew I had to come back and give it another try."
"That's where I came in." Janice stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her. "I had just dropped Sid off – he's on a business trip in Baltimore – and I saw Joey sitting alone, reading this letter in the snack bar. So I went over to him and said, 'Three for three, Joey – it's your turn now!'" Janice laughed, sitting down at the end of the couch.
Joey gave a forced chuckle. "I gotta tell you guys, I love this woman!" He pointed at Janice, who threw her head back and laughed, then he turned to Chandler and mouthed the words 'no I don't' emphatically.
"I got him to confess…he told me all about the movie deal, and Rachel, and Ross – the whole story. I told him he had to give her another chance, that sooner or later everyone would come to their senses and end up with the right people." Janice swung her dark hair, letting it fall around her leopard clad shoulders. "Then we looked around the airport for Phoebe's ring, retracing his steps…never found it." She turned to Phoebe. "Sorry, honey."
"Never mind about the ring. Why didn't you just come home right then?"
"I walked Janice to her car, and she offered to give me a ride home. Then she mentioned she was heading up to Connecticut to buy lottery tickets…"
"So I proposed Joey And Janice's Day Of Fun, Part Two!" Janice howled.
"That's when I decided to go up to Connecticut with her and buy you guys some lottery tickets. I was feeling lucky." Joey reached into his other pocket and produced a handful of tickets.
"You are lucky." Rachel felt as if she would never tire of looking at him.
Monica and Phoebe both reached for them. "No way." Joey stopped them with a hand before giving the tickets to Rachel. "She's going to hang on to these until the drawing. Learned the hard way that you two can't be trusted with lottery tickets."
"Ok." Chandler interrupted. "I understand going to Connecticut. But didn't you turn on the radio? You really didn't know your flight had crashed until we told you about it?"
"I never listen to the radio in the car." Janice batted her eyes at Chandler. "I only listen to mix tapes. Custom made."
"Skipping over that…" Monica threw Chandler a silencing glance. "You're telling us it took you that whole time just to buy lottery tickets?"
"Well…" Joey hedged. "We didn't just drive to the state line like you and me did that time. We went over to New Haven so we could get pizza."
"We went to Sally's!" Janice gloated. "And we split a pitcher of beer and a pizza, then we had to wait until I sobered up enough to drive us back!"
"How did you stand having a meal with her?" Rachel whispered in Joey's ear.
"That's what the beer was for," he whispered back to her.
"Then we drove back here, and it was pouring rain, so Joey offered to park the car for me. He let me out at the door, and I came up here." Janice leaned back, satisfied at getting to play such a large part in Joey's averted disaster. "And here we are."
"Here we are," Rachel echoed, squeezing Joey's hand.
Everyone was quiet for a moment, pondering the nearly miraculous events the day had brought.
"As much as I hate to do this…" Joey cast a longing glance at Rachel. "I've got to go to Queens. My mother and sisters made me promise I'd come see them as soon as I dried off." He shed the blanket and rose to his feet. "Walk me to the door?" He extended his hand to Rachel.
She took it and stood up. "I'm going with you."
His face registered surprise. "You sure?"
She tightened her grasp around his hand. "You're never getting away from me again."
"Awww," Janice cooed in the background.
"Then we better go, if we're going to catch the train." They headed for the door, hand in hand.
"Wait!" Monica jumped to her feet and rushed past them to get something from her purse. "Take the Porsche." She tossed the keys to Joey.
"You trust me with your car after the spaghetti incident?"
Monica grinned. "I think we've all taken enough chances with public transportation for one day."
"Go before she changes her mind." Rachel muttered under breath.
The stepped into the hall and closed the door behind them. Neither quite knew what to say.
Rachel finally broke the silence. "This is where we said goodbye."
"Not something I like to remember." He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Is this really happening?"
She put her arms around him and drew him in for a kiss.
After a few seconds he pulled away. "What was that for?"
One corner of her mouth turned up. "For never having to say goodbye again."
~*~*~
"I told you, they always take out their feelings in the kitchen." Joey unlocked the door to apartment #19 and held it open for Rachel. She followed him inside and waited while he opened the fridge. "I don't think we'll need to cook for a few days."
"I don't think I'll be able to eat for a few days." Rachel placed the leftovers in the fridge with a groan. "Was it just me, or was every known Italian dish on that table?"
"Pretty much." He looked at her suitcases, which were beside the bar where she'd left them. "I guess you came here first when you got back."
She nodded, watching him taking a seat in the recliner. She felt calm and peaceful, as if the hand of destiny had guided her to this place, this moment, this person.
The right time had been waiting to arrive. And it was finally here.
She half listened while he told her how much his mother liked her, how even the bad tempered Cookie had given Joey her approval regarding their relationship. Mostly she looked at him, seeing her future, knowing that the rest of her life was beginning right now.
This would be the person she spent the rest of her life with, the father of her future children. She'd had her last date, her last first kiss, and she couldn't be happier about it.
He continued talking about his sisters. She opened a drawer and took out a notebook and pen, flipping it open to a blank page, on which she wrote three words:
"DO NOT DISTURB!"
She put the cap back on the pen and fished a roll of tape out of the back of the drawer before strolling to the front door with the sign in her hand.
She flung open the front door and taped the sign securely beneath the #19 and closed it.
He stood up from the recliner. "Need me to help you carry your bags across to Monica's?"
"Phoebe is staying in that room while David's in Moscow." She leaned against the door, looking at him.
"If you're not going home, where are you gonna sleep tonight?"
She locked the door with a click. "I'm staying here tonight." She turned and secured the chain on the door. "And I am home."
He instantly became nervous and jittery. "Rach – all my clothes were on that plane. I don't have anything to sleep in tonight."
"You won't need anything." She stepped closer to him, reaching to one side and shutting off the ringer on the phone.
"But – "
She stood toe to toe with him and placed a finger across his lips. "Don't talk."
"Are you – " His face was a question.
She interrupted. "Yes." She placed her hands on the back of his neck and kissed him. "It's time."
He returned her kiss, holding her like he'd never let go. She became aware that they were moving backwards, then he took one hand off her to reach behind him and open the door to his room.
He pulled her shirt over her head in one movement. Everything else she had on hit the floor with his clothes following in rapid succession.
And then she was falling backward onto his bed.
Her senses were enveloped in a strange blur, one running into another like a watercolor painting left out in the rain.
She knew without reason that they wouldn't be interrupted this time. Their relationship would be permanently changed. But they were ready.
His hands explored every inch of her bare skin, awakening feelings long dormant. When he kissed her again, his tongue swirling around hers, it was like springtime when everything bursts into color after the cold gray death of winter.
Her body was more than alive beneath his touch, hypersensitive to everything he was doing, everything he was making her feel. The rush of emotion she experienced was starting. She'd known it would be amazing. She hadn't known it would make every other experience she'd ever had seem like a prelude to this and she felt unequal to it. Sheer physical limitations would constrain her ability to pour out the depths of her feelings. Her body couldn't serve the intensity they were creating, increasing with every second.
She whispered his name and his body responded. Urgency surged through her and she gasped when he settled himself on top of her. He was attentive, making sure her needs were met and that she was ready. But they had forever to be leisurely. She couldn't wait anymore tonight.
"Joey, now…" She wrapped a leg around him and pushed herself against him.
His hands were on her breasts and his lips showered her face with kisses. "I'm not ready for it to be over."
"I don't want to wait. I'm feeling too much…" She brushed her lips against his then deepened the kiss with a precise demand. "We have forever to take it slow. We have all night…"
She moved her hand over his back then under him, touching him that way for the first time. He moaned and she curled her other leg around him, undulating beneath him in a way that would make it impossible for him to resist.
She drew a deep breath when he joined his body to hers. Motionless, he looked down at her, allowing them both to savor the enormity of the moment.
Almost unconsciously, she moved slightly beneath him. "Don't," he mumbled against her lips. "Don't move. Let me do everything."
He rocked back and forth against her, timing each movement to the cadence of their fevered kisses. He smoothed one hand down her side, sliding it underneath her and cradling her closer to him. She couldn't still her shaking. The strength of her response was unnerving.
He quickened his movements and she knew she was going to cross the threshold any second. "I'm so close…" She ran her fingers through his hair. "So close…"
"Want me to stop and slow it down?" He paused, perfectly still. She'd never seen him breathe so fast.
"Don't stop." She trailed her fingertips over his face. "I love you."
"I love you more." His eyes locked onto hers. "I love you so much that it scares me."
"You don't love me more." She raised her face to his for a searching kiss. "You don't have to be scared. We're not going to lose each other again."
He sank against her and resumed, his pace slower now. She tried to catch every single sensation and hold on to it, but the pressure inside her was fighting rational thought as it built to a thundering crescendo.
She opened her eyes again to look at him. His face was inches from hers, his dark eyes closed and an expression of concentration unfamiliar to his features took her by surprise. She'd never seen him look like that before.
But then, she'd never done this with him before.
Pictures of the two of them together flowed from her memory, blowing past her like autumn leaves carried about by the wind - each one passing too fast to do anything more than grab the occasional stray. The rest drifted by with only an indistinct impression left in their wake.
Her mind turned these things over as her body shot forth into the stratosphere, taking him right along with her. For a few seconds she was mindless, defiant of gravity. The feel of his weight resting on her brought her back.
She put her arms around him, a strange motherly desire to comfort him supplanting the raging passion of a few moments before.
"I meant it when I said I love you." She put her hand under his chin, making him look at her. "How do you feel?"
He rested his head on her chest. "Overwhelmed."
She was sated but not ready to relinquish this interlude to the past. She shifted just enough to reach his mouth again and kissed him, her tongue tangling with his.
"I can't, not yet." He frowned, embarrassed.
"Let me help you out." She reached beneath the sheet.
"No, just give me a few minutes." He rolled away so he could see her. "This is…different."
"Different good?"
"You know when you said you were feeling too much?"
She nodded, stroking the side of his face with her hand. "I'm still feeling it."
He brought her hand to his lips for a kiss. "It's like I feel so much that I'm not big enough to contain it. Like I need to do something with it. You know what I mean?" He shook his head, aware of his lack of clarity.
"I know exactly what you mean." She inched closer.
He engulfed her in an embrace, kissing her with a ferocity that erased her thoughts. They rolled from one side of his bed to the other, united in an unbroken kiss. The mattress springs creaked in protest. The rain outside had slowed to drizzle against the windowpane. All these things wove themselves into the experience, adding oddly colored threads to the tapestry.
She felt him nudging against her again, ready. Without a word she positioned herself, inviting him. He eagerly returned.
This time was slower out of necessity. Her body was desensitized from the previous encounter, but it wasn't the physical pleasure she was after at this point. It was the closeness, the oneness with him that mattered.
But little by little, her enjoyment began to increase. The feeling was vast and expansive, like she was the ocean and he was the tide rolling in. He began to kiss her again, and she was aware of a strange sense of the eternal happening between them. It wasn't the fleeting passion of a heated sexual fling. Her senses surprised her by throwing her over the edge with a sudden kick.
She waited for him to find his release and when he did, she rolled them both over on their sides.
"Don't," she protested when he tried to draw back. "Stay like this." She put his hands on her breasts and threw her leg over his side. "How long have we been in here?" She lowered her head to kiss his chest.
"I don't know what time it is. I packed the clock." His voice was shaky and his breathing uneven. "Did you –"
"Oh yeah." She smiled. "Didn't you?"
He rolled his eyes. "What do you think?" He ran a hand over her rear end. "I can give you another turn when you're ready."
She placed her hand over his pounding heart. "As good as that sounds…I don't want tonight to be about turns…I want us to be together."
"I want that too." He cradled her against him and they lay in comfortable silence.
"Rachel?"
"What, sweetie?"
He rolled her over again and started for a third time. It was insane. They were no longer having sex for the point of sex itself but for some other unarticulated reason. What they were doing seemed barely connected to sex anymore.
They somehow got completely turned around sideways on the bed, her head hanging off the edge. She tried to wiggle back around but she got too swept up in the sensations of it all.
"Oh, God…Joey…" She heard a crash but didn't turn her head to investigate.
"Monica and Chandler are going to hear you," he cautioned. She bit down on his shoulder, digging her nails into his back when he brought her around with more force than the previous two times combined.
~*~*~
The night passed. At times they slept. They talked a lot, nonsensical conversation that neither would recall the next day. A jumble of words, certain phrases highlighted here and there. One would fall asleep, then the other would speak and they'd both be awake again. They made love over and over again, both of them too tired to feel anything but still needy.
When light pierced through her eyelids, Rachel woke up again, the sheet draped loosely over her. Joey was less than a foot away, the other half of the sheet barely reaching his waist.
She raised up and looked around. The bed was a mess, the fitted sheet pulled away at one corner, the bedspread and blanket in a wad on the floor along with their clothes.
The lamp, which normally sat on his bedside table, lay in pieces on the floor.
She sat up, every muscle screaming out with soreness. An angry bite mark on Joey's shoulder glared back at her, nicely juxtaposed with a few scratches along his back.
She raised her hand to the side of her head and touched it gingerly. She'd hit it on the headboard, so hard that she'd literally seen stars for a few seconds.
She didn't know what time it was and she didn't care. She eased herself back under the sheet and looked at him sleeping peacefully beside her.
The rain had finally stopped, and their new life had begun.
~*~*~
A/N: Only one more chapter left. I still need to resolve Ross and Phoebe, and enjoy a little J&R happiness after all the torture they've been through. I'd also consider doing a "three years later" epilogue, if there's enough interest.
As for this chapter… talk about pressure! I think expectations for this chapter would be almost impossible to live up to, so I just shut all that off and decide to write the BIG SCENE the way I wanted it written. I have to say, it was one of the most challenging scenes I've ever written in my entire writing life.
Having said that – PLEASE don't email me and complain that it wasn't graphic enough. I think the detail is appropriate for this story. I have written plenty of very explicit J&R fics recently (you know where to find them, heehee!) and that just wasn't right for this story. I was much more concerned on conveying how the felt than graphic descriptions of what they were doing.
I hope you enjoyed it, and don't worry, the torture is over. Time to be happy for a while!
Now…go leave me a review!
