Ross stared at the computer screen some more. No one had told him that being a professor would entail so much reading of badly-written papers. How any of these people passed high school English was beyond him. If he saw another their/there mistake he was going to fail the lot of them.
He forced himself to stand up and walk across his apartment to the window. The room was empty, Rachel having taken Emma for a walk. He appreciated the silence; he had a ton of papers to grade before Monday. Yet for some reason he couldn't really focus the way he needed to.
Ross looked across the street to the familiar bay window. There were curtains draped across it now, and they were almost always closed. A fitting symbol of what had changed; that apartment had been the center of his life for such a long time, and now it was forever closed to him.
On an impulse, he turned, grabbed his keys from the table, and left. He quickly made his way across the street and knocked on a door.
It opened and Joey grinned. "Hey. Since when do you need to knock?"
"I, I don't know. Things are so different now, it doesn't feel right to... be so casual." Ross followed Joey into the apartment, sat on a stool in the kitchen.
"Yeah." Joey turned off the television and sat opposite Ross. "I remember thinking when I first moved here how stupid the hot women across the hall were for never locking their apartment during the day."
"Anyone who tried to attack Monica would be in for a surprise." Ross tried a smile.
Joey's smile seemed a little forced itself. Then he brightened. "Hey, did you hear about Phoebe?"
Ross raised his eyebrows. "No, what?"
"She's pregnant."
"Wow, that's great." Ross's smile was now genuine. "We should throw a party for her."
Joey's expression quickly sobered. "Better wait on that a bit. She hasn't told Mike yet."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Not sure, really. She seemed... I dunno... not excited."
"Well, it's a big change for her." Ross stared beyond Joey at nothing at all. "Her whole life is about to become focused entirely on her child. She's not going to have as much time for Mike... or us... or herself, even. Given, given the way she's lived her life until now, that's going to... take some adjustment."
Ross continued staring at nothing for a while. Then a surprisingly gentle voice said, "What's wrong, man?"
His eyes focused on Joey, who had a concerned expression on his face. Ross suddenly realized this was the whole reason he had come over here, and the words started tumbling out. "It's, it's Rachel. And me. I don't, I don't know if... our relationship... is going the right way."
"Oh come on!" Joey sounded frustrated. "You guys worked so hard to get back together, why are you trying to screw it up now?"
"We're, we're not... trying to. It, it's just..." Ross sighed. "It's like we went from being friends to being a couple that's been, like, married for years and years. I mean, we love each other, there's no question of that, but there's... no heat."
"No heat?" Joey shook his head. "I walk between you two, and I catch on fire. How can you say there's no heat?"
"For the first day or so, there was, we were both so happy. Then..." Ross shook his head. "We bicker over little things. It's not much, it's not like we yell or anything. But... well, that's how it started with Carol. First the heat ran out, then we started bickering, then fighting, and then... then it was over. I, I'm afraid... Rachel and I have started the same thing, just... just more accelerated."
Joey stood up, walked once around the apartment, then sat back down opposite Ross. "Look, dude, let me tell you about my life."
Ross smiled without humor. "I think I know about your life."
"No you don't, not... not the way I mean. Look..." Joey seemed to be struggling for words. "I got heat, I got lots of heat, every week there's a new woman, we burn down entire forests. And then it goes out, and I move on, trying to find more heat. But I... I don't got... I've never had what you guys have."
Joey leaned forward, staring intently at Ross. "You and Rachel, you had that heat when you first went out, except it kept going and going, I kept waiting for it to die out and was just amazed that it didn't. You had the heat right until you broke up, and even then it never went out, it just kind of smoldered. It seemed like every year it would erupt again, then die back down. Ross." Joey's voice was hard, unyielding. "You guys belong together. You've got a kind of long-burning love that I never found in twenty years of messing around. Don't be fooled if it seems to cool down a bit, just stoke the embers and it'll blaze right up. Trust me."
Ross blinked at Joey. That was an amazing speech. Joey was like this, someone who fumbled with the meaning of basic words sometimes, but was quite capable of speaking passionately and eloquently when provoked.
With an effort, Ross pushed back his reaction to Joey's soliloquy and tried to focus on his words. It sounded like an interesting analysis. He wanted to believe it was true. "But... I mean, maybe, maybe we're too intense. We, we seem to bring out the worst in each other sometimes, I mean there's heat but sometimes it's... it's the wrong kind of heat."
"Oh for the love of Pete!" Joey bounced to his feet. "You're the smartest guy I know and you're still a moron. Do you really have to invent reasons not to stay with her?"
Ross blinked. Joey was unusually angry. "I'm, I'm not inventing-"
"Yes you are! You've been doing it for years, both of you have." Joey was gesticulating quite a bit, and Ross leaned back to avoid getting inadvertently smacked. "You guys have no idea how frustrating it's been for us to watch from the outside. There's every reason in the world for you guys to end up together, yet you both go out of your way to keep yourselves apart. Just get over it man!"
Joey reached over and grabbed Ross's shirt. "You love her, she loves you, and that's enough. Just remember why you went chasing after her in the airport, and everything else will work itself out. If you don't try to screw it up."
Ross looked down, unable to match Joey's righteous outrage. "If you say so," he said forlornly.
"I do!" Joey released his shirt, sat back down. "Now get back there and have some sex. And if you happen to do it in the living room with the curtains open, I'll consider myself repaid for the advice."
This caused Ross to look up with a smile. "You can't see us from your apartment."
"What, like there isn't a roof?" Joey was fighting off a grin.
"Anyway, Rachel isn't there," Ross said. "Thanks, man. Sorry I bothered you on a Saturday."
"Bah. It's not like I've got a lot to do." Joey lifted a script from the counter. "Two scenes, and I only speak in one."
Ross frowned. "Are they phasing you out?"
"I don't know. I didn't want to ask."
"Maybe, maybe you should start looking around. Have something else lined up."
"Well, I'd need an agent first."
"You don't have an agent?" Ross looked at Joey incredulously.
"Well, after Estelle, it didn't seem right to go to anyone else," Joey said defensively.
"Look, Estelle would want you to succeed. Call someone. You're a soap opera star, I'm sure there's a ton of agencies that would sign you in an instant."
"Maybe." Joey seemed thoughtfully pleased by the prospect. "Imagine, agencies fighting to represent me!"
"Uh, well, don't let it go to your head. Just find one that will take you and go with it."
"Yeah." Joey took his cell phone out of his pocket, turned it on. "What's the number for William Morris?"
Ross shook his head in bemusement. "I don't know. Look it up."
"Okay." Joey grinned. "Wanna stick around and order pizza?"
"I'd love to, but another time. Rachel and Emma will be back soon." Ross stood up.
"Uh, yeah, I suppose so." Joey's smile dimmed slightly. "Say hi, and remember what I said."
"I will. Thanks Joey." Ross lifted his hand as a farewell, then turned and left.
He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He didn't know how to react to what Joey said. But he did know that he was going to think about it, and in the meantime try to keep himself in check.
Because Joey was right: he really did love Rachel. And he desperately wanted that to be enough.
---
Monica watched the babies sleep, frightened by how much she loved them. It was so intense, and had happened so quickly. She wasn't certain it was a good thing, but she certainly wasn't going to try and change her feelings. She liked intensity.
In an attempt to focus her mind on other things, she walked out of the nursery, taking the monitor out of its charger and clipping it to her belt loop as she walked. Chandler was out shopping so it was just her and the twins.
Brightening, she walked into the den and grabbed the phone. She dialed a number and waited. Soon, Phoebe's voice answered, "Hello?"
"Hi!"
"Oh, hi! How are the babies?"
"They're great. They're sleeping right now." Monica walked into the living room and sat on the couch. "Speaking of babies..." She left the sentence hanging.
"Oh, I suppose Joey told you."
"Joey told Ross who told me. Isn't it wonderful?"
"Uh, yeah." Phoebe's voice was less enthusiastic than Monica had been expecting. "Yeah, it's wonderful, the miracle of birth and all that, except, you know, I've done it three times already so it's not great. Uh huh. Yes, it was all at one time, but still, the thrill is gone, you know?"
Monica blinked. Phoebe was babbling, and Phoebe rarely babbled. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? Who says anything is wrong?" Phoebe spoke in a curious sort of tone. "I mean, yeah, I'm not exactly jumping up and down and all that. But this is what I wanted, after all, this is why I got married, I wanted to have kids."
Monica furrowed her brow, trying to figure out where Phoebe was going with this. She tried gently prompting, "Is it?"
Phoebe didn't reply for a moment. "Is it what?"
"Is it what you wanted?"
This time the silence stretched for some time. "I... I don't... how do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Take such... such total responsibility for another life." Phoebe sounded agitated now. "How do you go about raising your kids so they... they don't eat chalk or go to jail or give away their own babies or... or... put their head in... in a..."
"Phoebe." Anything to keep her from completing that sentence. "There's... only so much you can do. You can raise them and love them, but ultimately they'll make their own decisions about the kind of people they want to be."
"But it's not good enough!" Phoebe sounded unusually shrill. "I've seen people who had perfectly loving mothers do some terrible things, and... and I can't, I can't be responsible for that."
"You won't be." Monica was treading quicksand now, flailing about desperately. "I mean, look at you, you didn't have that great a childhood and you turned out wonderful."
Phoebe snorted. "Yeah, I'm not nearly as wonderful as you might think. The things I... oh Monica, I don't want my child going through that."
"Then don't let them. Provide for them the best environment you can, shower them with love like only you can, and you'll give them the best possible chance to choose to become good people."
"Yeah?" Phoebe sounded thoughtful. "Yeah, maybe. It's just... I... I don't know that... that I can... that I'm capable of... giving them that chance."
"Sure you are! Mike will help, too. What does he think about this?"
"I haven't told him."
"You haven't told him!" Monica retreated into a safe, righteous indignation. "Phoebe, you have to tell him! He's the father, he has a right to know."
"I know. I know I have to tell him. I just... wanted to be... ready. With a plan. You always had a plan, I wanted to try having one, too."
"Well, that's good, I think organization is good." Monica paused. "But... that's me. That's not... necessarily you. Sometimes, sometimes I admired your... spontaneity. Like, like the time you got everyone to go to Vegas on the spur of the moment. You're good at that kind of stuff, you shouldn't lose that."
"Spontaneity." Phoebe seemed to warm up to the idea. "Mexico! We could go to Mexico and I could tell him there! That way he'll be warm and happy before I tell him."
Monica laughed. "And after you tell him, too."
"You think so?"
"I know so." Monica grinned into the phone. "You'll be a fine mother, Phoebe, I know that, too."
"O-okay." Phoebe didn't sound convinced. "Thanks Monica. I'm going to go make plane reservations now."
"Without telling Mike?"
"He'll come. I'm very persuasive."
That sounded more like Phoebe. "All right. Call me before you go."
"I will. Bye!"
"Bye." Monica hit the disconnect button and stared at the fireplace.
Several minutes went by before the door opened. "Hey, I'm back. I got the baby-dry diapers because I wanted to see how they could possibly keep our children happy and comfortable. If they do, I'll use them myself."
Monica looked up at the smiling face of her husband. "How do we keep our children from eating chalk?"
Chandler did a small double-take. "By not feeding them a blackboard?"
"Easy for you to say. How can we possibly accept such total responsibility for our babies' lives?"
Chandler frowned slightly, then sat next to her. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing." Monica hugged him fiercely. "Just hold me for a while, okay?"
"All right." He put his arms around her, and for a while Monica drew strength from the simple physical contact.
---
Rachel opened the door and beamed a smile at the world in general. "Hi!"
Ross looked up from where he was typing at his computer, still grading papers from his classes. "Hey there. How was your first day at work?"
"It was wonderful!" She went over to him, leaned down, kissed him quickly but forcefully. "They're all such great people! And my boss, he's a great guy, really smart, really knows his stuff, he showed me all around. They have lots of new people and I met them all and we have this... this real energy, you know?"
Ross grinned. "I think I'm feeling it a little bit."
"Yeah, it's like we all make each other work better." Rachel put her briefcase on the desk. "I'm sorry I was late, we just had so much to talk about today. Is Emma asleep?"
"Yeah."
Rachel walked quietly into Emma's room, looked down at the sleeping form of her daughter. Just as well she was asleep; Rachel was so full of excitement that it would probably have kept Emma up as well. Rachel gently touched Emma's face, then went back out into the living room. "Thanks for taking care of her."
Ross had a peculiar look on his face. "You don't have to thank me, you know. We, we're her parents. That's what we do."
"I know." Some of her good mood dissipated. "It's just... you may have to do more of it than I do. For a little while, anyway, while I get settled in."
"I understand." Ross went back to typing comments into the computer. "I should be able to for a while. If I get that grant, we may have to think about trying to get a baby-sitter. But that won't be for weeks yet."
"Good." Rachel brightened. "You should see my office, it's wonderful, they have all this art in there, and they said I could buy some if I wanted to and expense it. Oh, and they're having a formal gathering Friday night, at the Plaza, it'll be formal but relaxed, they said, and we'll get to meet everyone and their families. All the new people like me meeting all the people who have been working there, socializing and familiarizing and bonding and all that wonderful stuff. It's going to be great!"
Ross looked up. "It does sound great. Friday, you said?"
A cold feeling washed over Rachel and her smile vanished. "Um... Ross."
"Yeah?" He looked puzzled.
"I... I know I said... family, but..." Rachel leaned against the wall, wondering if she was trying to put distance between them for some reason. "But... for now, for right now, I wanted... I wanted this to be... for me."
Ross thinned his lips and looked back at his computer. He began typing again, his fingers moving rapidly.
Quailing, Rachel found herself continuing. "I don't want to explain... everything just yet. I, I'm not ashamed of you, or Emma, I'll tell everyone who asks, but... but I want them to know me, me as I am by myself before... before they know you."
Ross continued to fixate on his computer's screen, his fingers practically stabbing the keyboard, not saying anything.
"It's just, sometimes, you tend to dominate a conversation, and... for this, I don't want that, I want..." Rachel bit her lip. This was bad, this was going bad, she wasn't saying things well. "I want... to be able to present myself without... being overshadowed, even if you don't mean to."
"Oh come on!" Ross gestured at the screen. "Don't you know your stratigraphy! You're only off by a few hundred thousand years!"
Rachel shook her head slightly, confused. "Ross?"
He looked over at Rachel and his voice and expression softened. "Hmm? Oh, did you say Friday? I'm sorry, it's Phil's sixtieth birthday and we're going out for drinks after classes to celebrate. But you go to your work thing without me, I'll get someone to watch Emma."
Rachel blinked. She stared at Ross, who was looking back at her with a slight smile. And then a tremendous feeling of relief washed over her. She walked over to him, bent down until they were almost nose to nose, smiled at him. "Thank you honey." She kissed him, not passionately but with feeling, to let him know she understood what he had done for her just now and that she appreciated it.
They shared that kiss for a few seconds, then she broke it off, smiled widely at him, then straightened and turned away. "Oh, I've got so much reading to do. I'm going to take a bath while I do some of it."
"All right." Ross's voice contained an echo of contentment. "I've still got a few more papers to finish up here."
Rachel picked up her briefcase and headed towards the bathroom, feeling strangely euphoric. It was going to work, it really seemed like it might actually work, and that would be the best thing ever.
---
(to be continued)
Author's Notes: This is now looking like it will be five parts. Chapter Three should be out very soon.
He forced himself to stand up and walk across his apartment to the window. The room was empty, Rachel having taken Emma for a walk. He appreciated the silence; he had a ton of papers to grade before Monday. Yet for some reason he couldn't really focus the way he needed to.
Ross looked across the street to the familiar bay window. There were curtains draped across it now, and they were almost always closed. A fitting symbol of what had changed; that apartment had been the center of his life for such a long time, and now it was forever closed to him.
On an impulse, he turned, grabbed his keys from the table, and left. He quickly made his way across the street and knocked on a door.
It opened and Joey grinned. "Hey. Since when do you need to knock?"
"I, I don't know. Things are so different now, it doesn't feel right to... be so casual." Ross followed Joey into the apartment, sat on a stool in the kitchen.
"Yeah." Joey turned off the television and sat opposite Ross. "I remember thinking when I first moved here how stupid the hot women across the hall were for never locking their apartment during the day."
"Anyone who tried to attack Monica would be in for a surprise." Ross tried a smile.
Joey's smile seemed a little forced itself. Then he brightened. "Hey, did you hear about Phoebe?"
Ross raised his eyebrows. "No, what?"
"She's pregnant."
"Wow, that's great." Ross's smile was now genuine. "We should throw a party for her."
Joey's expression quickly sobered. "Better wait on that a bit. She hasn't told Mike yet."
"Oh? Why not?"
"Not sure, really. She seemed... I dunno... not excited."
"Well, it's a big change for her." Ross stared beyond Joey at nothing at all. "Her whole life is about to become focused entirely on her child. She's not going to have as much time for Mike... or us... or herself, even. Given, given the way she's lived her life until now, that's going to... take some adjustment."
Ross continued staring at nothing for a while. Then a surprisingly gentle voice said, "What's wrong, man?"
His eyes focused on Joey, who had a concerned expression on his face. Ross suddenly realized this was the whole reason he had come over here, and the words started tumbling out. "It's, it's Rachel. And me. I don't, I don't know if... our relationship... is going the right way."
"Oh come on!" Joey sounded frustrated. "You guys worked so hard to get back together, why are you trying to screw it up now?"
"We're, we're not... trying to. It, it's just..." Ross sighed. "It's like we went from being friends to being a couple that's been, like, married for years and years. I mean, we love each other, there's no question of that, but there's... no heat."
"No heat?" Joey shook his head. "I walk between you two, and I catch on fire. How can you say there's no heat?"
"For the first day or so, there was, we were both so happy. Then..." Ross shook his head. "We bicker over little things. It's not much, it's not like we yell or anything. But... well, that's how it started with Carol. First the heat ran out, then we started bickering, then fighting, and then... then it was over. I, I'm afraid... Rachel and I have started the same thing, just... just more accelerated."
Joey stood up, walked once around the apartment, then sat back down opposite Ross. "Look, dude, let me tell you about my life."
Ross smiled without humor. "I think I know about your life."
"No you don't, not... not the way I mean. Look..." Joey seemed to be struggling for words. "I got heat, I got lots of heat, every week there's a new woman, we burn down entire forests. And then it goes out, and I move on, trying to find more heat. But I... I don't got... I've never had what you guys have."
Joey leaned forward, staring intently at Ross. "You and Rachel, you had that heat when you first went out, except it kept going and going, I kept waiting for it to die out and was just amazed that it didn't. You had the heat right until you broke up, and even then it never went out, it just kind of smoldered. It seemed like every year it would erupt again, then die back down. Ross." Joey's voice was hard, unyielding. "You guys belong together. You've got a kind of long-burning love that I never found in twenty years of messing around. Don't be fooled if it seems to cool down a bit, just stoke the embers and it'll blaze right up. Trust me."
Ross blinked at Joey. That was an amazing speech. Joey was like this, someone who fumbled with the meaning of basic words sometimes, but was quite capable of speaking passionately and eloquently when provoked.
With an effort, Ross pushed back his reaction to Joey's soliloquy and tried to focus on his words. It sounded like an interesting analysis. He wanted to believe it was true. "But... I mean, maybe, maybe we're too intense. We, we seem to bring out the worst in each other sometimes, I mean there's heat but sometimes it's... it's the wrong kind of heat."
"Oh for the love of Pete!" Joey bounced to his feet. "You're the smartest guy I know and you're still a moron. Do you really have to invent reasons not to stay with her?"
Ross blinked. Joey was unusually angry. "I'm, I'm not inventing-"
"Yes you are! You've been doing it for years, both of you have." Joey was gesticulating quite a bit, and Ross leaned back to avoid getting inadvertently smacked. "You guys have no idea how frustrating it's been for us to watch from the outside. There's every reason in the world for you guys to end up together, yet you both go out of your way to keep yourselves apart. Just get over it man!"
Joey reached over and grabbed Ross's shirt. "You love her, she loves you, and that's enough. Just remember why you went chasing after her in the airport, and everything else will work itself out. If you don't try to screw it up."
Ross looked down, unable to match Joey's righteous outrage. "If you say so," he said forlornly.
"I do!" Joey released his shirt, sat back down. "Now get back there and have some sex. And if you happen to do it in the living room with the curtains open, I'll consider myself repaid for the advice."
This caused Ross to look up with a smile. "You can't see us from your apartment."
"What, like there isn't a roof?" Joey was fighting off a grin.
"Anyway, Rachel isn't there," Ross said. "Thanks, man. Sorry I bothered you on a Saturday."
"Bah. It's not like I've got a lot to do." Joey lifted a script from the counter. "Two scenes, and I only speak in one."
Ross frowned. "Are they phasing you out?"
"I don't know. I didn't want to ask."
"Maybe, maybe you should start looking around. Have something else lined up."
"Well, I'd need an agent first."
"You don't have an agent?" Ross looked at Joey incredulously.
"Well, after Estelle, it didn't seem right to go to anyone else," Joey said defensively.
"Look, Estelle would want you to succeed. Call someone. You're a soap opera star, I'm sure there's a ton of agencies that would sign you in an instant."
"Maybe." Joey seemed thoughtfully pleased by the prospect. "Imagine, agencies fighting to represent me!"
"Uh, well, don't let it go to your head. Just find one that will take you and go with it."
"Yeah." Joey took his cell phone out of his pocket, turned it on. "What's the number for William Morris?"
Ross shook his head in bemusement. "I don't know. Look it up."
"Okay." Joey grinned. "Wanna stick around and order pizza?"
"I'd love to, but another time. Rachel and Emma will be back soon." Ross stood up.
"Uh, yeah, I suppose so." Joey's smile dimmed slightly. "Say hi, and remember what I said."
"I will. Thanks Joey." Ross lifted his hand as a farewell, then turned and left.
He wasn't sure what he was feeling. He didn't know how to react to what Joey said. But he did know that he was going to think about it, and in the meantime try to keep himself in check.
Because Joey was right: he really did love Rachel. And he desperately wanted that to be enough.
---
Monica watched the babies sleep, frightened by how much she loved them. It was so intense, and had happened so quickly. She wasn't certain it was a good thing, but she certainly wasn't going to try and change her feelings. She liked intensity.
In an attempt to focus her mind on other things, she walked out of the nursery, taking the monitor out of its charger and clipping it to her belt loop as she walked. Chandler was out shopping so it was just her and the twins.
Brightening, she walked into the den and grabbed the phone. She dialed a number and waited. Soon, Phoebe's voice answered, "Hello?"
"Hi!"
"Oh, hi! How are the babies?"
"They're great. They're sleeping right now." Monica walked into the living room and sat on the couch. "Speaking of babies..." She left the sentence hanging.
"Oh, I suppose Joey told you."
"Joey told Ross who told me. Isn't it wonderful?"
"Uh, yeah." Phoebe's voice was less enthusiastic than Monica had been expecting. "Yeah, it's wonderful, the miracle of birth and all that, except, you know, I've done it three times already so it's not great. Uh huh. Yes, it was all at one time, but still, the thrill is gone, you know?"
Monica blinked. Phoebe was babbling, and Phoebe rarely babbled. "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? Who says anything is wrong?" Phoebe spoke in a curious sort of tone. "I mean, yeah, I'm not exactly jumping up and down and all that. But this is what I wanted, after all, this is why I got married, I wanted to have kids."
Monica furrowed her brow, trying to figure out where Phoebe was going with this. She tried gently prompting, "Is it?"
Phoebe didn't reply for a moment. "Is it what?"
"Is it what you wanted?"
This time the silence stretched for some time. "I... I don't... how do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Take such... such total responsibility for another life." Phoebe sounded agitated now. "How do you go about raising your kids so they... they don't eat chalk or go to jail or give away their own babies or... or... put their head in... in a..."
"Phoebe." Anything to keep her from completing that sentence. "There's... only so much you can do. You can raise them and love them, but ultimately they'll make their own decisions about the kind of people they want to be."
"But it's not good enough!" Phoebe sounded unusually shrill. "I've seen people who had perfectly loving mothers do some terrible things, and... and I can't, I can't be responsible for that."
"You won't be." Monica was treading quicksand now, flailing about desperately. "I mean, look at you, you didn't have that great a childhood and you turned out wonderful."
Phoebe snorted. "Yeah, I'm not nearly as wonderful as you might think. The things I... oh Monica, I don't want my child going through that."
"Then don't let them. Provide for them the best environment you can, shower them with love like only you can, and you'll give them the best possible chance to choose to become good people."
"Yeah?" Phoebe sounded thoughtful. "Yeah, maybe. It's just... I... I don't know that... that I can... that I'm capable of... giving them that chance."
"Sure you are! Mike will help, too. What does he think about this?"
"I haven't told him."
"You haven't told him!" Monica retreated into a safe, righteous indignation. "Phoebe, you have to tell him! He's the father, he has a right to know."
"I know. I know I have to tell him. I just... wanted to be... ready. With a plan. You always had a plan, I wanted to try having one, too."
"Well, that's good, I think organization is good." Monica paused. "But... that's me. That's not... necessarily you. Sometimes, sometimes I admired your... spontaneity. Like, like the time you got everyone to go to Vegas on the spur of the moment. You're good at that kind of stuff, you shouldn't lose that."
"Spontaneity." Phoebe seemed to warm up to the idea. "Mexico! We could go to Mexico and I could tell him there! That way he'll be warm and happy before I tell him."
Monica laughed. "And after you tell him, too."
"You think so?"
"I know so." Monica grinned into the phone. "You'll be a fine mother, Phoebe, I know that, too."
"O-okay." Phoebe didn't sound convinced. "Thanks Monica. I'm going to go make plane reservations now."
"Without telling Mike?"
"He'll come. I'm very persuasive."
That sounded more like Phoebe. "All right. Call me before you go."
"I will. Bye!"
"Bye." Monica hit the disconnect button and stared at the fireplace.
Several minutes went by before the door opened. "Hey, I'm back. I got the baby-dry diapers because I wanted to see how they could possibly keep our children happy and comfortable. If they do, I'll use them myself."
Monica looked up at the smiling face of her husband. "How do we keep our children from eating chalk?"
Chandler did a small double-take. "By not feeding them a blackboard?"
"Easy for you to say. How can we possibly accept such total responsibility for our babies' lives?"
Chandler frowned slightly, then sat next to her. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing." Monica hugged him fiercely. "Just hold me for a while, okay?"
"All right." He put his arms around her, and for a while Monica drew strength from the simple physical contact.
---
Rachel opened the door and beamed a smile at the world in general. "Hi!"
Ross looked up from where he was typing at his computer, still grading papers from his classes. "Hey there. How was your first day at work?"
"It was wonderful!" She went over to him, leaned down, kissed him quickly but forcefully. "They're all such great people! And my boss, he's a great guy, really smart, really knows his stuff, he showed me all around. They have lots of new people and I met them all and we have this... this real energy, you know?"
Ross grinned. "I think I'm feeling it a little bit."
"Yeah, it's like we all make each other work better." Rachel put her briefcase on the desk. "I'm sorry I was late, we just had so much to talk about today. Is Emma asleep?"
"Yeah."
Rachel walked quietly into Emma's room, looked down at the sleeping form of her daughter. Just as well she was asleep; Rachel was so full of excitement that it would probably have kept Emma up as well. Rachel gently touched Emma's face, then went back out into the living room. "Thanks for taking care of her."
Ross had a peculiar look on his face. "You don't have to thank me, you know. We, we're her parents. That's what we do."
"I know." Some of her good mood dissipated. "It's just... you may have to do more of it than I do. For a little while, anyway, while I get settled in."
"I understand." Ross went back to typing comments into the computer. "I should be able to for a while. If I get that grant, we may have to think about trying to get a baby-sitter. But that won't be for weeks yet."
"Good." Rachel brightened. "You should see my office, it's wonderful, they have all this art in there, and they said I could buy some if I wanted to and expense it. Oh, and they're having a formal gathering Friday night, at the Plaza, it'll be formal but relaxed, they said, and we'll get to meet everyone and their families. All the new people like me meeting all the people who have been working there, socializing and familiarizing and bonding and all that wonderful stuff. It's going to be great!"
Ross looked up. "It does sound great. Friday, you said?"
A cold feeling washed over Rachel and her smile vanished. "Um... Ross."
"Yeah?" He looked puzzled.
"I... I know I said... family, but..." Rachel leaned against the wall, wondering if she was trying to put distance between them for some reason. "But... for now, for right now, I wanted... I wanted this to be... for me."
Ross thinned his lips and looked back at his computer. He began typing again, his fingers moving rapidly.
Quailing, Rachel found herself continuing. "I don't want to explain... everything just yet. I, I'm not ashamed of you, or Emma, I'll tell everyone who asks, but... but I want them to know me, me as I am by myself before... before they know you."
Ross continued to fixate on his computer's screen, his fingers practically stabbing the keyboard, not saying anything.
"It's just, sometimes, you tend to dominate a conversation, and... for this, I don't want that, I want..." Rachel bit her lip. This was bad, this was going bad, she wasn't saying things well. "I want... to be able to present myself without... being overshadowed, even if you don't mean to."
"Oh come on!" Ross gestured at the screen. "Don't you know your stratigraphy! You're only off by a few hundred thousand years!"
Rachel shook her head slightly, confused. "Ross?"
He looked over at Rachel and his voice and expression softened. "Hmm? Oh, did you say Friday? I'm sorry, it's Phil's sixtieth birthday and we're going out for drinks after classes to celebrate. But you go to your work thing without me, I'll get someone to watch Emma."
Rachel blinked. She stared at Ross, who was looking back at her with a slight smile. And then a tremendous feeling of relief washed over her. She walked over to him, bent down until they were almost nose to nose, smiled at him. "Thank you honey." She kissed him, not passionately but with feeling, to let him know she understood what he had done for her just now and that she appreciated it.
They shared that kiss for a few seconds, then she broke it off, smiled widely at him, then straightened and turned away. "Oh, I've got so much reading to do. I'm going to take a bath while I do some of it."
"All right." Ross's voice contained an echo of contentment. "I've still got a few more papers to finish up here."
Rachel picked up her briefcase and headed towards the bathroom, feeling strangely euphoric. It was going to work, it really seemed like it might actually work, and that would be the best thing ever.
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(to be continued)
Author's Notes: This is now looking like it will be five parts. Chapter Three should be out very soon.