A/N: Just so you know, when I say someone's name in this chapter, it's them in their respective body. Like, if I say Ross, it's Ross in Rachel's body.

"Ross? Oh my God! Ross, where are you?"

Ross rolled his eyes, flicking his now short brown hair over his shoulder. Then he threw up. Or rather, the him in Rachel's body threw up.

But the fact that he was some how in his roommate's body no longer fazed him. Oh, sure, the first reaction when he saw Rachel in his reflection was absolute panic and terror. However, he didn't have time to scream. His mouth had other ideas.

Why couldn't I have been switched with Chandler or Joey or anyone else who isn't pregnant? All he knew was that he wouldn't be able to take another morning of this constant regurgitating. Morning sickness sucked.

It turned out that it sucked even worse when you had company. Rachel, er, Ross launched himself into the bathroom. The Ross in Rachel's body had thought he had seen it all, but that was before his body ran into the room…without him in it. He maintained calm, though. He could tell from the panic on his face that Rachel was only just discovering the switch.

Rachel shrieked upon entering the bathroom. She was used to throwing up every morning, but seeing someone else do it in her body was shocking, to say the least. "Oh God, Ross, is that you?"

He, well, she turned her head to shoot Rachel an annoyed glance. "No, it's Tess Coleman. Hey Anna, what's up?"

Despite the situation, Rachel had to laugh. One night they had been channel surfing and stumbled upon Freaky Friday on one of the movie channels. Quickly getting over the joke, she returned to freaking out. "How the hell can you be so calm about this?"

"Trust me, you're how I was an hour ago," Ross assured her…him…Crap, this is confusing. "Or, you're how I was an hour ago…you know what I mean!"

"Oh my God oh my God oh my God!" Rachel began pacing the bathroom, her hands on her hips. Ross grimaced at how girly she was making him look. "How did this happen?"

"Maybe it was something we ate," Ross suggested, puking once again.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "I doubt that reheated Chinese food would do this to us."

"I think it did it to you," Ross quipped, indicating the leftovers that were now in the toilet.

"You know what I was saying," Rachel huffed. "Anyway, the how isn't what's important now. What's important is…how do we switch back? I can't go through the rest of my life as a guy!"

"The feeling's mutual. Only it's worse for me. I really don't want to have this baby for you," Ross confessed, placing a hand on the seat to rest.

Rachel pounced on him. "Oh, but I thought a big strong man would be able to handle it better! In fact, I bet you couldn't get through one day of being pregnant."

"I'll take that bet." Ross wiped his mouth. His stomach was settled, at least for the moment. "And, I just thought of something. I have to teach a class tomorrow! Let's see how you get through that!"

"Wait, hold on, that's totally unfair!" Rachel protested. "I can't teach paleontology! I don't have a degree. I mean, I slept through history class in high school!"

"It's not my fault someone wasn't there to wake you up," Ross taunted. Although Rachel did have a point. If she went to his work, it wasn't just him who would be affected. His students would be cheated out of a class, and his reputation would be at stake. "Oh, by the way, the puppy-dog pout doesn't work when it's on my own face."

"Crap." Rachel stamped her…his foot.

"Fine. If this whole thing isn't fixed by tomorrow, you can just tell my students to outline some chapters of the textbook," Ross offered. "But the other bet's still on."

"So what do I win if you burn out?" Rachel asked. Just because she was in a weird and horrifying situation didn't mean she couldn't get something out of it.

"Fifty bucks?" Ross proposed.

"Yeah…" Rachel almost agreed, but got a brainstorm. "Hah, I know! If you can't take it like a woman, you have to wait on me hand and foot until the baby's born."

"What? That's…that's interesting." Ross paused. He had been about to protest, but then had a sudden thought. "Okay, but if I win, you have to do everything yourself until the baby's born. And I mean your actual self, not your bodily self which would actually be me."

Rachel deliberated for a split second, then stuck out her hand. "Deal."

"Deal." Ross took her hand and shook on it. "It's weird shaking my own hand."

"I know…" Rachel leaned in closer, examining her hand. "Huh, is that a hangnail? I am so giving you a manicure."

"Yeah right." When he realized she was serious, he fled from the bathroom before she could come at him with a nail file.

The screams and shrieks emanating from Monica and Chandler's apartment could have woken the dead.

"Why do you look like me?" Monica demanded. They had both gotten out of bed about the same time. It only took one glance at each other for both of them to see that something was horribly wrong.

Chandler shook his head in disbelief. "No, you're the one who looks like me!"

"You know, there's only one way to solve this." Grabbing his, uh, her arm, she dragged him to the front of the mirror over the dresser. There were not, in fact two Monicas, or two Chandlers, but one of each, as there was supposed to be. However, neither reflection matched up with its respective person.

"Maybe it's the mirror?" Monica tried, putting her hand to the glass, only it to touch the image of Chandler's.

"No, it's not the mirror. We're in the wrong bodies," Chandler announced, turning away from his, well, Monica's reflection.

"But…how?" Monica asked, turning to face him. "What is this, some cruel cosmic joke?"

"Could be," Chandler shrugged. "We have been arguing an awful lot."

"That only happens in Disney movies. This is real life," Monica reminded him. They were both in a frenzy, zipping around the room in panic. "In real life, people who argue do not typically switch bodies!"

"It does make sense though." Chandler had no clue why he was so calm. Typically that was Monica's job. "You know, the whole 'walk a mile in each other's shoes' thing…"

"There's an added phrase to that," Monica supplied. "'Walk a mile in the other person's shoes. That way, you're a mile away and have their shoes'."

"You're not helping," Chandler advised.

"All I know is that this is not…right! I want to be in my own body!" Monica whined.

"This could be a dream…" Chandler pondered. "Maybe we'll go through the whole day, wake up, and realize it never really happened."

"We can only hope," Monica sighed.

"So…what do we do now?" Chandler asked.

"Let's just…call in sick," Monica decided. "We can't go to work like this."

"Why not?" Chandler inquired. "It's not too hard to process data. I do it."

"But if you go to my job, you have to cook. And you can't do that," Monica worried.

Chandler was struck with an idea. "Fine, you can call in sick. But you have to go to my work at least! How else will you check out my assistant?" It was perfect. Monica could go to his job, do all the work he left, and see for herself that there was nothing between him and his assistant. Meanwhile, he would lounge around all day in pajamas and eat junk food. Man, this body switching thing rocked!

Monica considered his argument. "You know what, that's a good idea. It's about time I see what you do all day."

"You won't be seeing much," Chandler warned.

"That's okay with me." Monica was about to say more, but stopped. "Now, if you'll excuse me…" She then left, with the intention of going to the bathroom.

Before she could leave, Chandler called, "You need any help?"

Monica turned to glare at him, thinking he was being funny. "Of course I don't need help, I know how to go to the bathroom…" She cut herself off, understanding what he meant. Technically, she wasn't a woman anymore, so… "Oh, God. This could be a problem."