Lauren's note: Took me long enough. Will you forgive me, Amy my love?

Amy's note: I don't know, Lauren. I just don't know…Oh, who am I kidding? I love you, Lauren. Do you want to divorce TNEO and marry me?

Lauren's note: Yes, yes, a thousand times yes! I'll provide the cheesecake.

888

"How the hell did you know I was going out with Chandler?" Monica demanded. Rachel swallowed and tried to come up with a reason that sounded semi-plausible. She wanted to look away from Monica's crossed arms, or the way her eyes seemed to bore into her head like she was attempting to perform telepathic surgery, but she couldn't seem to tear herself away from what she knew would be a conversational train wreck.

"I – well – obviously, Joey told me," Rachel answered uneasily.

Monica looked furious. "I told Joey not to tell anyone!"

"I mean – I – Chandler told me!"

"When?" Monica asked incredulously.

"I guessed! I guessed!" Rachel corrected fitfully. "I knew it! Ha! I knew you and Chandler would end up together! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!"

Monica looked worried for Rachel's health. "Rach, sweetie –"

"I knew it!" Rachel said frantically, waving her arms. "I knew it, okay? You're going to go off to – to – Westchester – and you're going to have millions of babies, and grow old together, and understand each other perfectly, because that's just how it is, and it's not like I can ever have that, because, my God, I can hardly even – and I know it's so stupid, but I – when did it become so damn complicated?"

"Shhh, sweetie, it's okay," said Monica, gathering Rachel into an embrace. "Ross'll come around, soon, I promise." She stroked Rachel's hair. "He's a little slow on the uptake, but he's a good guy, and I know that this will happen for you. It has to."

Rachel closed her eyes. Monica gave her a reassuring squeeze.

"Hey, listen," Rachel said, murmuring against her shoulder, "have fun on your date with Chandler, okay?"

Monica silently continued to thread Rachel's hair with her fingers.

888

"Monica loves me?" Chandler repeated. He stared disbelieving at Phoebe. "She loves me? Monica loves me?"

"I know, I couldn't believe it either," Phoebe said.

"Hey, that's funny, it's just what I needed! A self-esteem boost!" Chandler said sarcastically.

"You know, Chandler, I don't appreciate that kind of attitude," she told him sharply. "You should learn some patience."

Chandler shut his mouth, taken aback. Phoebe looked surprised at herself. "I didn't think I could pull off the frustrated mom thing! Wow, I really do rock at everything!"

"Phoebs, back to me –"

"You again?" Phoebe asked exasperatedly. "You're so self-involved."

Choosing to ignore her, Chandler asked desperately, "What do I do?"

"About what?"

"Everything! Monica, Rachel – you –"

"Me?"

"I'm always wondering what to do about you, Phoebs." Chandler sighed. "What's with all the secrecy?" he decided to shoot.

"Well, if you must know, I'm running a self-employed exorcism service," she said simply. Chandler squinted at her.

"Really?" he asked in a small voice.

"Ummm…no." Phoebe laughed. "The last thing I need is some more demons pissed at me." She rolled her eyes and stood up. "Good luck, Chandler." She went back inside her apartment, and closed the door slowly, making sure that Chandler couldn't see what was inside.

888

While Rachel had her breakdown with Monica, and Chandler left Phoebe's company feeling even more confused about his situation, Joey talked to Ross about the whole 'Monica and Chandler thing' (so he dubbed himself).

"So." Ross paused, mulling over his words. "They're going out. On a date." He spoke slowly, and then took a sip of his coffee.

"Yes." Joey nodded.

"And they like each other."

"Yeah, they do." Joey giggled like a little school boy.

"Huh." Ross took another sip of his drink.

"Isn't it great?" Joey asked excitedly.

"Well, I know that you're lying," Ross said evenly.

"Wha – hey, I'm not lying!" Joey protested.

"Joey," said Ross in an infuriatingly patient tone, "the world would sooner collapse in on itself then Monica and Chandler would voluntarily go out on a date together."

Joey looked angrily at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Did the Pliocene Epoch happen overnight?" Ross countered.

Joey stared.

"Listen," continued Ross, ignoring Joey's feeble attempts to comprehend his meaning, "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but it's not funny, okay? Monica's my sister, dude, and if you don't realize –"

"Chandler's my best friend!" Joey interrupted. "And it's not supposed to be funny! They're going out on a date. The end. It's not a comedy, Ross!"

"What?"

"I said, it's not a comedy, R –"

Ross grabbed Joey by the collar. "They're going out on a date?"

Joey pried Ross's hands away irritably. "I just ironed this, man!"

"They're going out on a date?" Ross repeated.

"Well, yeah, that's why I was here in the first place, spelling it out for you –"

Before Joey could say another word, Ross stormed out the door, slamming it resolutely behind him.

888

Chandler bounced on the balls of his feet, hesitating outside the strangely foreboding door of Apartment 20. He felt winded, despite the fact that he had only walked several steps from his own apartment (his lung capacity was still a little shy of the norm); and his hands were sweating again, although he had just dried them seconds before (God, did it have to be so muggy?). He simultaneously wanted to dance and die. He was going out with Monica, Monica, and that alone was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity – and yet, jumping out a window and plummeting to his death also seemed to have its own perks.

He didn't have the chance to decide, however, because as soon as he prepared himself to move, the door swung open and Monica appeared, looking as beautiful as ever. Her own agitation was blindingly obvious: her nails were fake and painted, to keep from biting them to the quick.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," he replied, as he gave her the once-over; she instinctively returned the gesture.

"You cleaned up well," she complimented, fidgeting with her purse.

"Yes, well, I did learn that showering makes it easier to score," Chandler replied. Monica's eyes widened. He panicked.

"Not that I'm trying to score with you or anything, because that would mean that you were just some – some – hooker or something –" Chandler continued in vain, "I mean – not that I think you're a hooker – I mean – I mean – you're Monica, sometimes I don't even think of you as a woman at all!" Chandler wanted to die. "Sometimes you're just, like, a – an asexual non-hooker –"

They looked away from each other, utterly mortified. Chandler looked heavenwards. Why did people allow him to talk to women in the first place?

"Listen," said Chandler, after a short period of wallowing, "let me start over." He tentatively touched her shoulder. "You look stunning."

Monica finally smiled. "I knew you'd get it right eventually."

"At least you have faith in me," he replied, grinning.

"Don't get too cocky. You could still screw up."

"You think this is cocky?" he asked her in disbelief. "You obviously haven't seen me at my worst."

Monica sidled closer to him, linking her arm within his own. "Janice, Chandler? Rachel and I were both there when you revealed the unspeakable barley incident."

Monica was smiling at him, but Chandler couldn't concentrate.

Rachel. Chandler felt his blood run cold. An unexpected bout of guilt swept through him. God, what was he doing? He wasn't like this – he wasn't like Joey, who could juggle two relationships without the bat of an eye. If what he had with Rachel could be called a relationship, that is – and even still, being torn between a woman he had been secretly pining for, and another – another who was beautiful, and funny, and wonderful . . . it shouldn't feel like this. He should feel overjoyed that he was able to boast one date with someone like Monica, or wake up next to someone like Rachel.

He couldn't even remember who it was about anymore. Could he give something up he had, for what he wanted? Or give up what he wanted, for what he had? And it wasn't like he didn't want Rachel, but Monica was Monica – he was in mental turmoil after she had laughed at his boyfriend material suggestion. Mental turmoil. That usually took a day subjected to Janice and afterwards a long conversation with Joey about various ways to kill her.

"You okay, Chandler?" Monica asked him, her eyes soft with concern.

I wish.