There were many more people here than Monica had thought possible. Ross had invited a lot of people from the museum, Chandler had dragged in a bunch of people from his temp job, and Bobby had produced his own gaggle of followers. Monica's three friends from work seemed hardly adequate.
Bobby fought his way through the crowd and offered her a beer. She showed him her half-full glass and shook her head. He quickly drained his own beer and started sipping from the can he'd brought for her. "So, hey, it's going great, huh?"
Monica looked around and nodded. People did seem to be enjoying themselves. There was lots of laughter, some dancing, and lots and lots of drinking and eating. The food she had prepared was almost entirely gone, which very much pleased her.
"So, tell me more about this guy that moved out. Last week I got so wasted I can't remember much about what Chandler said. Real loser, huh?"
"Oh yeah." Monica looked over at Kip's old bedroom. Chandler had converted it into a dance floor for this party, and was even now bouncing around it looking rather like a marionette with its strings caught in a tornado. People were cheering him on, and Monica wondered how long it would be before he threw up or collapse in total exhaustion.
Bobby wasn't done with the questions. "Was there some kind of history between you two?"
"Yeah. There was." She made a shooing motion with one hand. "I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."
"I don't mind at all." Bobby laughed. "This isn't a night for being moody, it's a time to party! Live it up, Monica!"
She smiled at him. They clinked beer cans and she took a moderate sip while he chugged down half of it. She watched him as he did so and decided she liked watching him. He was pretty cute and a blast to hang around with so far. Monica looked down at her beer can, wondering how drunk she was, how far lowered her inhibitions were at this point, and whether she should drink more in an attempt to lower them all the way.
"Hey, there you are." Ross came up, his smile sliding towards silliness, which indicated he was at least halfway towards being drunk himself. "So, glad that Kipface is gone?"
Monica snorted. "What do you think the answer is? Yes, of course I'm glad. Now I can actually come over to Chandler's apartment for a change."
"Oh?" Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying you and Chandler-?"
"Good God, no." Monica shook her head bemusedly. "We just hang out together. He comes over for dinner a lot with my brother and my roommate, Phoebe."
"Cool." Bobby grinned, slapped Ross on the back. "So, Geller, we haven't really talked yet. What's your story? Have a girlfriend?"
"No, a wife." Ross's smile dimmed slightly, Monica was sad to notice. "She's not here."
"Well, next time the party will be at your place and we'll show her a good time." Bobby paused. "I mean, a good party time, not a good time time, if you know what I mean."
"Hey, any good time would be a good time." Ross shook himself slightly. "What do you do, Bobby?"
"Bah. Whatever I do during the day is just an excuse to have enough money to enjoy the night. Rock on, dude!" He clinked beer cans with Ross and quickly quaffed the rest of his beer.
Ross took a small sip, and looked over at Monica. "So, is Phoebe coming?"
"No." Monica looked down at her beer and decided that she'd keep her inhibitions in place for tonight. She set the beer can on the coffee table. "She's still in her pajama phase. After work she just sits there and stares and doesn't say anything unless you ask her a question. I, I want to, to kind of snap her out of it but I'm not sure how."
"Oh, that's easy," Ross said. "Just make her have fun."
"Oh, it's easy, is it?" Monica glared at the slightly rose-faced visage of her brother. "How do you make it so she'll have fun?"
"Lotsa ways. Call me tomorrow, I have an idea."
"All right." She eyed his beer. "What time will you be getting up? Noon?"
"Anyone who gets up before 3pm on a Sunday didn't party hard enough the night before." Bobby slipped an arm around Monica's shoulders. "You're a great girl, Monica, but man, let loose just a little bit. It'll be fun, I guarantee."
Monica discovered that she liked the physical contact, and didn't mind so much that he was trying to goad her into enjoying herself more. She put her arm around his waist and felt free and comfortable doing so in a way she'd never felt with Kip. Which had to be a very good sign. "All right, I'll try."
"Awesome." Bobby tried to drink from his empty beer can. He looked forlornly at the refrigerator, and Monica could almost see the battle going on in his head: stay here and maintain contact with Monica, or go over and get another beer. Monica looked at him, idly wondering which side of him would win.
Bobby looked back over into the dance area. He crushed his beer can and threw it. With remarkable accuracy, it bounced off Chandler's head. "Yo! Tony Manero! Stop scaring animals and small children and get me another beer!"
Chandler looked a little relieved at the interruption. He smiled as the people around him laughed. "You're no fun, Bobby."
"I am too! Beer, dance-boy."
"Yes, Sahib. My feet are like wings, Sahib." Chandler gave a mocking bow and ran towards the kitchen.
Monica grinned and looked up at Bobby. "You are fun, Bobby."
"Fun Bobby!" Bobby yelled out to the crowd. "I have now been officially rechristened by Monica, you are all to call me Fun Bobby from this moment forward!"
This was meant with general cheering. Monica laughed, then impulsively kissed Fun Bobby to the sound of even louder acclaim.
Monica walked into the apartment, saw Phoebe, and groaned.
Phoebe looked over from where she sat, in her pajamas, on the couch. "What's wrong?"
"God, I'm still hung over. I like Fun Bobby's parties but I always wake up with a headache that lasts all day." She stumbled into her bedroom, changed, and walked out.
Phoebe looked up in surprise. "Going to bed early?"
"Maybe. I'll try to fix dinner first." Monica readjusted her pajamas so they hung a little more loosely, then walked into the kitchen. Simple would be best, spaghetti and salad. She began gathering the ingredients.
The door burst open and Chandler came in singing. "Happy happy joy joy! Happy happy joy joy! Happy happy joy joy joy!"
Monica frowned at him. "What is that?"
"Monica, you have got to get cable. You're becoming isolated from today's culture." Chandler did a strange kind of dance that Monica had never seen before. "I'm celebrating a month of Kip-less existence."
Phoebe cocked her head. "In your pajamas?"
"Yes!" Chandler pulled at his tee-shirt. "Since he's been gone I've been wandering around naked - just because I can! But for dinner I'd thought I'd at least throw this on."
"Thank God." Monica began emptying cans of tomato paste into a pot. "Dinner will be twenty minutes."
Chandler pointed a finger at her. "Cable. It's not too late to join the MTV generation."
"I thought it was the Pepsi generation?"
"Depends on which advertising agency you accept as the Word of God." Chandler walked over, plopped down on the loveseat. "So, Pheebs, how's the whole massage smelly biz going?"
Phoebe didn't seem respond. Monica sneaked a peek over and saw that Phoebe was just staring at Chandler with a slightly confused look. To his credit, Chandler's expression was perfectly innocent as he looked back at her.
The door opened again. "Hey everyone. Man, it's colder outside than it looks."
"Hi Ross." Monica dumped the spaghetti into the water, added a bit of oil, then turned to see Ross unbuttoning his full-length black winter coat. He took it off, revealing a set of bright blue silk pajamas underneath. Monica smiled and couldn't help commenting, "Ooh, you're all shiny."
"Hey, they feel good against my skin." Ross hung up his coat. "I just bought them yesterday, decided I needed to wear them in before I actually sleep in them.
He went to the refrigerator, grabbed a bottle of water, then walked over to the couch and sat next to Phoebe. "Hey."
Phoebe's eyes were now quite wide. She looked at Ross, then at Chandler, then over towards the kitchen. Monica had to quickly avert her eyes, afraid she'd burst out laughing if she looked back at Phoebe.
No one said anything for perhaps a minute. Then, finally, Phoebe burst out with a plaintive, "What are you doing? You're all being silly!"
Monica laughed, unable to contain herself anymore. Chandler joined in, but Ross merely grinned. "Who says we're being silly?"
"I do! You are! You're all wearing pajamas for no reason!"
"How about that." Ross reached over, slightly tugged Phoebe's pajama top. "We're wearing pajamas for no reason."
Phoebe blushed slightly. "I, I have a reason."
"Well, so do we." Ross folded his arms across his chest. "As long as you wear pajamas, we'll wear them, too."
"That's no reason!"
"It's as good a reason as yours."
Phoebe grimaced. "You don't know my reasons."
"I know more than you might think." Ross's voice was a little more sober. "I know that you feel something inside of you dying, and you just want to hide inside yourself and hope that if you hide long enough, the world will magically change around you. But it doesn't. Wishing for love you never had won't make it appear. You can either sit and mope about it, or you can enjoy the time you spend with people who do love you." Ross grinned again. "I know which one I prefer. How about you, Pheebs?"
Phoebe looked down, looked over at Chandler, who nodded, then over to Monica, who raised an eyebrow. Phoebe looked back at Ross, then sighed. "If, if I change out of my pajamas, will you all do the same?"
"Sure!" Chandler leaped to his feet. "I've got a tux I've been dying to try on. Be right back!" He ran from the apartment.
Phoebe watched him leave, then looked back over at Ross, a questioning look on his face.
Ross snorted. "He's not really going to change into a tuxedo. I'll be right back, gonna borrow some clothes from Chandler." He smiled at Phoebe, then stood and left as well.
Monica wanted to look at Phoebe but the sauce and noodles were at a critical phase. She stirred the sauce quickly, then lifted the pot with the noodles and dumped it into the sieve she had set up in the sink. While it was draining she returned to the sauce, regretting, stirring it some more while lowering the temperature on the stove.
"Was this your idea?"
"No, it was Ross." Monica decided things could keep for a couple of minutes, and turned to face Phoebe. "But I agreed something needed to be done. You've been miserable far longer than you needed to be. We just wanted to snap you out of it and realize that things aren't so bad as you think they are."
Phoebe blinked. "They aren't?"
Monica paused a moment. Phoebe's question seemed sincere. Monica wished she knew exactly what had happened between Phoebe and Duncan, but she felt confident enough to answer, "No, they aren't."
"Okay. Okay." Phoebe went towards her bedroom. "I knew I should trust you guys."
Monica blew out a relieve sigh and walked quickly into her own bedroom to change. That had gone surprisingly well. Phoebe would recover now, and Kip was gone, and Monica had a new boyfriend, and life was as perfect as it could be.
Almost. Monica's slight smile faded, wondering how much of Ross's speech to Phoebe was based on his problems with Carol. Monica shoved that thought aside, chastising herself for trying to invent reasons to feel bad. Everyone was happy - right here, right now, everything was good.
Ross yelled something about the spaghetti from the kitchen, and Monica smiled and ran out to join everyone for dinner.
(to be continued)