Dawn

By Monnie

I suppose you're expecting me to apologize for not updating sooner. I think you guys can handle me not updating right away. Heee. I'm not a dork, I swear. Okay, well, I have the outlines finally complete for the rest of the story, so the updates *hopefully* will come sooner because I won't have as much writer's block. But that's not saying they won't. I've also been going through a lot of stuff, I'm sure some of you guys know what I'm talking about. Gotta get down to business, don't I? How long do you think this thing should draw out? I'm not exactly sure. I'm thinking either 5 more chapters or maybe 10, it depends on the general opinion or my own judgment. I dunno. Maybe I should stop rambling. It's not that interesting to anyone but me, anyway, right?

"I'm a bitch, I'm a tease; I'm a goddess on my knees…" There's a tin foil star to anyone who can figure out what song that's from. Yes. I said tin foil. I don't have gold. Authors don't make that much money, okay?! xx

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Chapter Eight – Only Time

Who can say where the road goes,
Where the day flows?
Only time...
And who can say if your love grows,
As your heart chose?
Only time...
Who can say why your heart sighs,
As your love flies?
Only time...
And who can say why your heart cries,
When your love dies?
Only time...
 


"Mon, I really think I'm sick!" Rachel hiccupped and leaned over the patch of dry grass on the side of the block nearby, vomiting again. Monica and Phoebe cringed, looking away, as Rachel helped herself back to her feet.

"You think it's poison?" Phoebe asked, and Monica shrugged.

"I suppose. Rach?"

"Hmm?" The young girl's face was pale, with a tinge of green, and she was clutching her stomach, her knees wobbling. And yet – that physical weakness still did not look as apparent as the fear and devastation that shone from Rachel's cold, grey eyes. Monica's breathing hitched, and something in her mind clicked into place.

"Do – do you think it's poison?" Monica asked, knowing the answer.

"No, I don't think so. It only flares up once in a while."

"I see." Monica sighed, and closed her eyes.

==

"Duh – I kinda figured, but – how many?"

"How many times?"

"No, how many women?"

"Oh!" Chandler grinned weakly, and leaned back against the wall, his knees up against his chest. "Well – I, uh --"

"C'mon, you can tell me, it's no big deal."

"Oh. I always thought it was --"

"Sacred? Come ooooon." Kip entered the block, obviously listening in on the conversation.

"Well yeah. It's a big deal."

"Not really, Chandler. It's just sex." Kip sat down on his bed, and Joey looked up from his.

"Kip, how many girls have you had sex with?"

"Oh – too many." Kip smirked and Joey shook his head.

"Kip," he said, "Even I know how many girls I've been with."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." Joey leaned forward, challenging him.

"How many?"

"Eight." Joey grinned.

"I've had more than that."

"So I figured."

"Hey --" Chandler interrupted, "Why is this a competition? It's sex, for cryin' out loud. Just because one of you has less respect for women than the other doesn't mean you have to discuss it like a bet on a horse race."

"Fuck that, Bing. I'll bet you've screwed more women than a U-boat crew."

"Kip – shut up, man!" Joey stood up, and Kip did as well. Chandler, nervous about what would happen if things got out of hand, slinked down in his bed to secure himself.

"Why are you pushing this, Tribbiani? Sit down."

"All right, Kip, I'll sit. But only if you apologize to Chandler, and tell me what your number is."

"Whatever. Sorry, Bing – don't think you've had that many opportunities." Joey rolled his eyes, and Chandler blushed and mumbled something under his breath. "What did you say?" Kip barked, and Joey stepped forward.

"'Ey! Tell me before you go interrogating him!"

"Twenty seven."

"Twenty seven?!" Chandler exclaimed, putting his feet on the floor, with his guard dropping just as quickly.

"Yeah! I'm lonely up here, all right?!"

"Kip, you're fucking married," Joey yelled, slamming his fist against the wall, and sitting with his head in his hands.

"So? Not gonna do me much good havin' one while I'm up here. Not like I'm gonna even get outta here, anyway."

Chandler was flabbergasted. "Still, Kip – dude, why? I mean, sure, you're lonely, but why? Why not – like – I dunno, find someone you love?"

"Because, Mr. 'I'm Not Telling', unlike you, I don't care if I'm in love or not. Sex is sex. That's all. Besides, Marianne would never do it with me anyway – she kept telling me I hurt her."

"Maybe you did." Joey snipped.

"No! I'd never hurt Marianne. I love her."

Chandler clenched his hands into fists. "Why would you do this to someone you love, then? I mean, whether you think so or not, we all have feelings. We're all human."

Kip let these words sink in for a moment. "Because the itch is killin' me. I gotta do it somehow."

"Kip – I've had the itch for years. I've only ever had sex with two women." Chandler then blushed furiously and fell silent. Kip stared at him.

"You serious?" He asked, and Chandler nodded. "You poor fella. I gotta get you hooked up. You know, I know this real nice lookin' girl over in block --"

"Kip!" Chandler found his voice again, while Joey's eyes darted back and forth between the two. Chandler then smiled. "I don't need to have this itch scratched, though. Not just yet."

"Why, you waiting for someone?"

==

"Yep."

"Still?" Phoebe was left slack jawed, as Monica nodded in agreement. A few seconds later, Rachel emerged from the lavatory, clutching her head and her stomach.

"There you are…" Monica put her arm around her friend as several women entered the lavatory to take their cold, two minute showers. Monica and Phoebe skipped theirs to help Rachel get to breakfast on time.

"How you holdin' up?" Phoebe asked, patting her friend's stubbly brown hair comfortingly.

"Not so good. It's so annoying, I drink hardly anything, and Pheebs, you've been so sweet to off your food to me, but no matter what, I always have to use the bathroom, and I'm always hungry."

"Hun, we're all always hungry."

"Yeah, but you're not like me. I have this weird thing going on in my stomach."

"Why, do you have cramps or something?" Phoebe asked.

Rachel shifted her weight in her seat, messing her face up in irritation. "What do you mean?"

"Like, abdominal cramps. From your cycle?"

"No, I don't think so."

Monica froze. "Rachel, have you had your cycle recently?"

"No, strangely. It's almost been two months. Why do you ask?"

Who can say when the roads meet,
That love might be,
In your heart.
And who can say when the day sleeps,
If the night keeps all your heart?
Night keeps all your heart...

Who knows?


Only time.

====