Disclaimer: I don't own Friends.

A/N: Well, after reading amelia's wicked awesome suggestion that I should continue this story for the first three episodes of season eight, I decided, what the hell. It's a great idea, and I thank you a million times over for thinking of it. I'm so thankful, in fact, that this story is totally dedicated to you. You can get in touch with me via e-mail if you have any more suggestions in the future, just to let you know.

Other reviewers: thanks for giving me the positive feedback :). I hope you continue reading.

Everything except Rachel's thoughts are taken from The One After "I Do".

XXX

Two minutes.

I can't believe Phoebe covered for me. And so well, too (note the sarcasm). But really, I owe her so much for doing that. I just didn't want everyone finding out about the baby until I had told Ross. Except he's out there flirting with some tall, skinny blonde who's acting like she wants to be the next in the long line of Ross Gellar's wives.

I'm not jealous. Not at all. I just know that if he knew what I knew, he wouldn't be out there trying to impress that woman. He'd be here with me.

It is his.

One minute and thirty seconds. Not that I'm counting.

I'm such an idiot. I wasn't even thinking when I took that champagne from the waiter. Monica had gone on so long about the hardships Phoebe (well, I) would be facing that I needed some sort of relief. I mean sure, I was going to tell my best friend eventually, but not right after she got married. That's stealing her thunder, which is something I've accidentally done in the past, and hadn't wanted to do today.

"That's how the French drink it." God, I'm so stupid.

I have to admit that I'm so glad Phoebe and Monica know. Keeping this to myself has been eating me alive, but now my two best girl friends can be there for me.

It's not like Ross can. He's too busy with that slut. But of course I can't blame him. He doesn't even know. Yet.

One minute and seven seconds. Still not counting, of course.

Monica and Phoebe have been so great to me these past few hours, now that they know. Sure, they don't even realize that the father is their brother and best friend, but they'll know soon. I actually think they're both kind of excited.

After Phoebe offered to get a test for me and left Monica and I by ourselves, I couldn't help but imagine the little baby that might be growing inside of me. Monica had had to get back to guests, since it was her wedding reception, which left me to my thoughts.

Fifty-two seconds. Ah hell, I'm counting.

I wonder what they'd look like. Would it be a boy or a girl? Blonde hair like mine, or dark like Ross's? Blue or brown eyes (or maybe a mix)? Would it take after it's father in the smarts department, or love frivolous things like me?

Aunt Monica would teach him or her to cook, and Uncle Chandler would teach them horrible jokes that I'd laugh at just because they're my child. Phoebe would fill their head with weird facts and songs that make no sense, and Joey would teach them everything your parents don't want you to do. My parents would spoil them just because they can, and Ross's parents would invite him or her to their house all the time because they love them. Ben would be a big brother and learn the true meaning of 'sharing'.

Ross would be a father again. And I'd be a mother. Someone would actually call me 'mom'.

I've lost count in my musings, so I ask Phoebe how long is left.

Thirty seconds.

Monica returns, and assures me they're all gonna be there for me. I feel kinda bad for yelling at the woman who wanted to use the bathroom. This is more important though.

I can't even check the test myself, so Phoebe does it for me.

Mom. I could get used to being called that.

"It's negative."

Or not.

Suddenly everything I had pictured in my new future are gone, and I'm left with my old one that seems so empty.

I'm brought to tears for the hundredth time today, but I try to pretend I'm fine for Monica and Phoebe, who are looking at me with something like sympathy.

"Wow, this is so just the way it was supposed to be," I finish, then shake my head. "God."

Monica lets out a tentative 'great'.

I feel like I can't stop crying. Sure, a baby would have changed everything in my life, especially my relationship with Ross, but it would have been okay in the end. There would have been a person who was dependant on me, a person I could love unconditionally. That's all I can think about; I can only picture the face I'll never get to see.

"How could I be upset over something I never had?" I ask no one in particular, swiping my eyes with the tissue Phoebe handed me. I take a step forward and look at her. "It's negative?"

She smiles a bit. "No, it's positive."

I'm floored. The words go into one ear, mill around my brain, and head out the other. I know I'm smiling a little through my tears. The bright future returns to my mind.

"Well, yeah, I lied before," Phoebe replies when I ask if she's sure, and hands me the test. It's definitely positive. "Now you know how you really feel about it," she says.

"That's a risky little game!" I say, still grinning over the stick I hold in my hands, my voice thick from moments before.

They're both looking at me, but I'm too wrapped up in my own mind.

"Are you really gonna do this?" Monica asks, all of us near tears again.

"Yeah," I tell them. "I'm gonna have a baby. I'm gonna have a baby!" I declare, and we join together in a big group hug.

If nothing else, my child will grow up surrounded by so much love that they'll actually get sick of everyone doting upon them.

As we continue to hug I secretly pray the baby has Ross's eyes.

XXX