A/N: For some reason, the last chapter that should've just been a short one, turned out to have a lot more potential than I thought. (If even only a lot of potential for mushy sweetness, so consider yourself warned!) So, I finally decided to split it in two so you won't have to wait even longer than you already did (sorry for that), which means there is another chapter before this story is finished.

Thanks to all my faithful readers for your reviews and your patience and to Melanie for much needed bugging. :) Enjoy.

TOW the baby

Rachel was looking for a new word. A word that would describe how she felt in her skin right now. Because 'uncomfortable' wasn't even beginning to cover it. She was way beyond just feeling 'uncomfortable'. When she stood or walked, her feet and legs hurt, when she sat for too long, her back did. When she lay down, her breath was shortened to shallow gasps, because of a drastically decreased lung capacity. When she tried to move, she was sure she knew exactly what being a beached whale must be like. Then there was the additional joy of being kicked from the inside, which wasn't so much cute anymore, but sometimes downright painful. And to top all that off, it was in the midst of summer and hot like hell. No, she really wasn't only 'uncomfortable'.

And then there was this woman, this doctor, who was supposed to help her when she didn't feel well but acted as if everything was just fine and dandy. Which Rachel was well beyond having patience for.

"Why isn't she coming out?" she shrieked, a little too shrill for her own liking and glad that Joey wasn't here to hear it. "Pregnancies are supposed to last nine months. It's almost ten and she's still in there!"

The doctor smiled encouragingly, which did nothing to calm Rachel's irritation with her situation.

"Miss Green, you're just a week over your due date, there is nothing to worry about. I know, the last days of a pregnancy feel a little uncomfortable…"

Rachel let out a puff of breath and was sure that if she was a cartoon character, her eyes would be turning red right now.

"I'm not worried, I'm sick of being pregnant," she hissed, trying her hardest not to shout, which was what she really felt like doing. "I have half a mind to go in there and bring her out myself."

The doctor smiled her indulgent smile again and said, "There are a few things you might try."

"What?" Rachel asked impatiently, not hoping for much.

"In this flyer is a list of a few herbs you can try," the doctor said while handing her a little brochure. "And there is one thing that helps most women."

To her endless dismay, the doctor chose that exact moment for a dramatic pause.

"Do I have to torture it out of you?" Rachel asked through gritted teeth when no further elaboration was forthcoming.

The smile was a lot terser now, not that Rachel cared about that, but at least she got her answer.

"Having sex is a relatively sure method of helping things to get started."

Rachel blinked a few times and then leaned her head back, her anger suddenly draining out of her in a rush. A tiny smile stole to her lips at the pleasant recollection of the events from the past eight weeks, filled with rediscovering their relationship, with recovering both the emotional and the physical intensity of their love. Her increased size had limited the physical aspect a little, but hadn't made it completely impossible, much to both their delight.

"If that worked, she would've been born quite a while ago," she finally whispered almost to herself, smiling at the doctor while climbing off the examination table.

With an even wider smile, she took the flyer from the hands of the doctor, who seemed somewhat baffled by her sudden mood swing.

She could still give those herbs a try.

Joey was fidgeting. He knew his whole body was constantly in some kind of nervous motion, either his knees were bouncing up and down or he was rocking nervously back and forth, he just couldn't keep still. Nor could he concentrate on anything.

He wanted to. He desperately tried to find something that would hold his attention for a while, that would take his mind off the fact that the woman he loved was almost forty two weeks pregnant and that he was about to become a father any minute now.

It didn't sound like much. Ten days. But since the books said it could happen from the thirty eighth week on, they had been waiting for almost four weeks now. It began to take its toll.

He couldn't sleep, he lost his appetite, he was cranky.

He knew Rachel was there too, although she tried to play it down, to keep the appearance of staying calm, acting as if she was glad to have a few more days to sleep and to do what she wanted before the baby would change her life forever. But he knew that was for his benefit.

He knew she was far past the point where she felt comfortable with the pregnancy. He knew she couldn't sleep either. He'd seen her standing in the nursery at night, gazing in the empty bassinet, probably imagining how it would be to get up in the middle of the night if there was actually a baby in that bassinet, crying for its mother. Sometimes he pretended not to notice, pretended to be asleep when she came back to bed. Most of the times, though, he had gone to her, encircled her in his arms from behind and gently caressed her belly. The first time she seemed surprised, even jumped a little at his touch, but then she had leaned back into him and they had just enjoyed their closeness until they had both become drowsy enough to want to go to sleep again, or gotten drunk enough on each others presence to do… other things.

His nervous bouncing ceased for a moment. No, it really wasn't like those last eight weeks hadn't been a completely happy and wonderful time. They had been. But still, he wanted that time to end. He wanted the waiting to be over, wanted the sudden bouts of fear to stop that sometimes out of the blue reminded him of the risks of childbirth. He wanted to stop wondering if he'd be any good as a father, he just wanted to be one. There was a jealousy that he felt and resented, he was jealous that Rachel already had a connection to the baby that he – the daddy – had not. He finally wanted to see his daughter, he ached to hold her in his arms, to tell her how much he loved her.

"Joey, I know it can't be easy going through what you're going through right now, but you're driving us up the wall here."

He stopped bouncing and lifted his gaze to Chandler who looked at him not quite as pissed as his tone might have suggested. He looked compassionate.

"Where is Rachel anyway?"

"She wanted to go over to Monica, let her pamper her a bit."

"Maybe she should've come down here, too?"

"She doesn't want to go outside in this heat."

Chandler nodded and turned his attention to his newspaper again while Joey started drumming with his fingertips on the table, which prompted a warning glare from Phoebe.

"Joey, seriously, then go to Rachel and drive her crazy."

"See, that's the reason she told me to come here."

Gunther came to the table, bringing another soda for Phoebe and when he turned to go back he mentioned in passing to Chandler, "Your wife called. Something about things getting started."

Joey leaped to his feet in a second, knocking over his chair and only missing the table by an inch. He was out the door before anyone even started thinking.

When he barged into Monica's apartment, almost collapsing from having run up the stairs in the oppressive heat, Rachel sat on the couch, obviously concentrating on breathing.

He felt like passing out. Bracing one hand against the kitchen counter, he tried to catch his breath and come up with something to do or to say. It was the moment both Monica and Rachel turned their eyes to him, looking at him expectantly.

Right in that moment it hit him that from now on, he was the one who was expected to know what to do, he was the coach, the guy who was supposed to help Rachel through this and not only through giving birth. He was the guy who was going to be a father.

He realized he had two choices here. Freaking out and being a nervous wreck of a man, making himself a laughing-stock; or stepping up, facing the challenge and being the man Rachel deserved to have at her side.

After having taken a deep breath, he asked as calmly as he mustered, "How far apart are the contractions?"

Rachel's relieved smile made his confidence come back to him in at once. They would get through this somehow. Together. They had been through much worse.

"About five minutes," she said still smiling and caressing her belly, "But they're getting stronger."

He gave a serious nod, trying to remember everything he was supposed to do, worried he might forget something.

"All right. I'll hail a cab and as soon as it's here I'm taking you to the hospital and we're getting that baby out of you."

"Joey," Monica cut in, "I already called a cab, it should be here any minute."

"Thanks, Mon," he nodded at her distractedly. But then he suddenly had a feeling he had more to be thankful for than just her hailing a cab. "Thanks for everything, Monica," he added with a warm smile.

"You're welcome," she smiled back.

Phoebe, Chandler and Ross appeared in the door, all concernedly looking at Rachel, who concentrated on her breathing, obviously having another contraction. It was over before he even reached her and when he put his hand over hers, they shared a smile that conveyed both their wonder at the journey that now was so clear ahead of them. Now it was only a matter of hours and if it went as smoothly as it had until now, it would be a walk in the park.

"I said don't touch me!" Rachel barked at Joey, who quickly drew his hands back as if he had burned them.

Strands of hair stuck to Rachel's sweaty face, while she took deep, measured breaths, her face contorted with pain. He'd never felt so useless in his entire life. Finally, the contraction seemed to be over and she turned to him, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Sorry, Joe, I just can't…" he nodded bravely, carefully keeping his distance. Of course they had told him in the Lamaze classes that some women couldn't stand being touched during delivery and that he had to respect that, so he tried his best not to feel hurt.

"I think I can't walk around anymore," she panted after having fought through another contraction. They came pretty close together now, after only two hours and the midwife had been sure that it would probably take not more than another two or three hours for the baby to be born. Which to him – and certainly to Rachel – felt like an eternity.

They slowly made their way to the bed and he tentatively helped her onto it. After she lay down, she took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

"I'm glad you're here with me."

He was about to answer, when she closed her eyes with a pained moan and started breathing heavily again.

Joey had prided himself for being thoroughly prepared for the birth of his child. Sometimes he even thought he was better prepared than Rachel, because unlike her, he even had witnessed the birth of a baby before, so he knew exactly what to expect.

Or so he had thought.

Truth was, nothing could've prepared him for seeing the woman he loved suffer and feeling guilty about it because – yeah – it was sort of his fault. Back with Lydia, it had been another guy who was to blame and he was the knight in shining armor who had just been there to lend a helping hand. And – he had barely known her enough to care.

With Rachel, he felt her pain, even if only in the way she crushed the bones in his hand she held in a vice grip and he felt utterly useless for not being able to help her. He would've gladly taken it upon himself to go through that if only he could.

Then, suddenly, after seemingly endless hours of labor, everything happened all at once. Rachel was ordered to "Take a deep breath and push! Push!" and he was asked to "Please stay at the head of the bed!"

And then the world stopped turning and just like in some weird sci-fi movie, time froze and events culminated in one tiny moment. Rachel sagged back to the bed, eyes closed, relieved, completely exhausted, tears streaming down her face and making a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

The midwife announced the arrival of the baby and some facts about respiration, skin tone, fingers and toes, but the voice and the sound most clear to him because of its complete novelty was the tiny, miserable cry coming from the newborn, from his daughter.

When the world started spinning around its axis again, when time snapped back to its usual flow, it had changed drastically. From now on, this point in time would mark the threshold between 'before' and 'after', because nothing would ever be like it had been before this very moment. Everything that had happened before, as dramatic and important as it might have seemed at the time, was dwarfed into insignificance at the life-changing experience they had just shared, would continue to share for every hour of every day to come. Even if he couldn't put it into words, it was this understanding that came to him like a vision when he first heard the voice of his child.

He watched the midwife swaddle the baby into a blanket, umbilical cord still attached and leading between Rachel's legs, slightly pulsing in a decreasing rhythm. Gingerly she put the baby into Rachel's waiting arms. Rachel, who beamed with pride and smiled and looked as relaxed and beautiful as if she hadn't just gone through the hardest and most painful hours of her entire life.

"Oh sweetie, my little angel, hallo. God… you're so… so beautiful," Rachel cooed at her in a choked whisper, tears filling her eyes once again.

Joey could only agree. Crouching down beside Rachel, he stared in wonder at the tiny human being, who just had single-handedly changed his world.

"She's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen," he said, his voice scratchy from the tears that burned in his throat.

Rachel turned to him and favored him with a warm and happy smile that he reciprocated. It felt like they were beyond words, that all the 'We're parents', 'I'm so proud of you', 'I'm so happy' could only poorly describe what they felt right now. So he just leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her slightly trembling lips.

There was one thing, though, he thought needed to be said.

"I love you so much," he whispered against her lips before pulling back and turning his attention to his daughter once again.

"I love you," he heard her say right next to his ear while he gently caressed his daughter's wondrously soft cheek with his index finger, marveling at the fact that this little miracle was indeed real.

"Would the daddy like to cut the cord?" was the question that brought them back to the reality of the delivery room, where nurses were bustling about, cleaning things and preparing a bath for Julia.

Joey nodded and reluctantly pulled away from his girls – his family, as he reminded himself, which put a proud grin on his face – and followed the midwife's instructions to sever the last physical bond between Rachel and the baby.

She was then taken from Rachel for another examination and then for bathing and getting dressed and then they said they would need to tend to Rachel now, which was obviously a cue for him to leave because he was ushered out of the room.

He stood there for a few moments to get his bearings and then the thought "Gotta tell the others" made him move his feet towards the waiting area.

When he caught sight of them, sitting on a couch, sipping coffee out of plastic mugs, talking, joking and laughing, he started thinking about what he was supposed to say.

'We have a daughter, everything went well, and mother and child are fine.'

He turned the words over in his head when the full implication of them hit him and made him stop dead in his tracks. Everything had gone well, Rachel and his daughter were fine. It felt like the happy and sometimes anxious anticipation of the last weeks had been holding him together somehow and now that everything was so suddenly over, he fell apart.

A shuddering sob tore free from his throat and he put his hands over his eyes, turning his head away so no one would see him cry. He couldn't help it. All the happiness he felt, the relief, the love – every single emotion seemed determined to pour right out of his eyes.

After he had gotten a grip again, he patted his pockets for a tissue, but came up empty. When he looked up one was handed to him by a tentatively smiling Ross.

"I take it everything went well," he said in a low voice, while Joey wiped his face and blew his nose.

Joey looked past Ross into the deeply concerned faces of his friends who stood about ten feet away. He smiled at them to counteract the wrong impression his embarrassing breakdown had probably made.

"Didn't mean to scare'ya, it's just…" he trailed off, at loss for words to explain what had just happened.

"I know," Ross said with a smile. "Happened to me, too. It can be… a little overwhelming."

Joey looked searchingly at Ross's face and discovered a banal truth that was nonetheless shocking to him. Ross had experienced that too, and he understood what he was going through without explanation. He probably had been the one to stop Chandler, Phoebe and Monica from rushing to him when they saw him cry, knowing that he needed that moment for himself. They had something very profound in common and needed no explanation for it. There was someone by his side he could come to for advice, for help, or just for a sympathetic ear and he found himself thankful for that. Thankful for having a friend like him.

Ross's smile changed to a broad and beaming grin. "Congratulations," he said loudly and shook his hand vigorously, but then froze for a second when Joey enveloped him in a bear hug.

"Thanks Ross," he said when he pulled back again and Ross acknowledged this monumental shift in their relationship with a nod.

Then Joey finally turned to the other three, still waiting their turn. He spread his arms as if he wanted to embrace the whole world and exclaimed.

"We have a baby!"

Cheers erupted and he found himself enveloped in a crushing group hug, not that he complained, and peppered with questions. Yes, very healthy. Yes, it's a girl like the doctor said. Her name's Julia. Yes, we decided that way before she was born. Yes, she already has hair, thick raven hair. Yes, like me. No, probably not my eyes, they're baby blue. No, I don't know if she looks more like me or more like Rachel. Yes, Rachel is okay and very happy. Yes, she was in pain, but nothing out of the ordinary – or so I've been told and I'm sure she's already forgotten all of it. No, Chandler, it's not scary, it's wonderful, really. No, you can't see her yet, maybe in a few hours. No, I don't know how much the baby weighs, I only had a few minutes in there before they threw me out. Yes, of course I'll let you know the minute you can see both of them. No, I don't want anything to eat or drink right now. Yes, of course I'm happy, never been happier.

Joey had always found babies to be cute. These miniature versions of human beings, that on the other hand lacked so many qualities that were known to define someone as human, like the upright walk and verbal speech.

He'd always loved to hold them, smell their unique baby scent, feel their incredible soft skin that seemed almost too fragile to touch it with callous male fingertips and entirely too tender to press the coarse, stubbly skin of a man's face against such a soft baby cheek.

Yes, generally, he'd always loved babies.

Maybe it was because of that, that he was entirely unprepared for the rush of feelings, the overwhelming realization of just how much one can love and adore his own child. Even now, almost twenty four hours after little Julia had been born, he stood there in front of the nursery window, glass dividing him from his daughter, and stared at her in wonder. Wonder at how this little girl had turned his life upside down (or finally from its head to its feet again) how she was undoubtedly the most beautiful baby between all the other sleeping or screaming little ones lined up in front of that window.

"How wonderful life is, now you're in the world."

Wonder at how much her birth had changed what he felt for Rachel, that it was even possible to love her even more than he already had. Wonder that now that she's born his child, he felt a bond to her so indestructible, that it gave him back a sense of security he thought he'd lost forever.

Wonder at how much difference it made that this particular baby was his. His daughter, his to love, hold and care for, his responsibility.

He sighed a little at the last thought, at the ever present fear of failing spectacularly at that. Because right now, he felt like he wanted nothing more badly than being a good dad.

"I thought you'd look happier," a quiet voice suddenly jerked him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Phoebe standing beside him, looking at the baby.

He smiled.

"I am happy," he assured her, maybe stressing it a little too obviously. "It's just…" he trailed off and sighed, realizing how stupid it would sound if he'd actually said it.

"Afraid you won't be a good dad?" Phoebe asked, her tone still light and quiet.

Joey looked over to her, not too surprised she could read him like that. She always could.

"Yeah," he admitted with a nod.

Phoebe put a hand on his upper arm and made him look at her reassuring smile.

"Don't let it crush you. You're gonna be great as a father, Joe."

He smiled despite himself. "How do you know that?"

Phoebe chuckled a little and gave his arm a playful punch.

"Because you're a great guy. That's what she saw in you. That's why she fell in love with you."

Again, the thought made him grin. "I don't really think she considered my…uhm… paternal qualities, back then."

Phoebe shook her head, still smiling. "Maybe you should give her more credit. And yourself, too."

Then she turned to the babies again, sighing. "She's really beautiful, isn't she?"

"Of course she is," a grin still playing around his lips. "She's Rachel's and my child."

Phoebe let out a short, laugh. "Of course. You're just the perfect couple, right?"

His grin faded to a wistful smile and he once again contemplated the little box safely tucked away in his pant pocket.

"Right."

tbc