Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine. Do you think there are people out there who might actually wonder if I didn't make that clear?
Chapter 2
That's Never All
Several hours later, Rachel reclined on Chandler's bed, propped up against both of his pillows and one of Joey's, comfortable and filled near to bursting with junk food and caffeine. Chandler lay on his stomach, his head at her feet, fully engrossed in Star Wars, which they'd found on television during the first intermission in their gluttony.
"So, OK, so, let me get this straight," mused Rachel. Chandler had been shocked to discover that she had only seen the final installment of the original trilogy, and had refused to turn the channel, insisting that if she didn't agree to watch the first one with him, that he would kick her out and keep all the snacks for himself. "Luke and Leia are brother and sister, right?"
"Raafft," confirmed Chandler, his pillow muffling his response.
"But…they seem to…like…each other…in that way."
Chandler turned his head to stare at her in shock. "Rachel! They don't know they're related yet! Haven't you been paying attention at all??"
Rachel huffed. "Yes! It's just, it's…science fiction. You're lucky I'm still even awake, you know, what with all this business about Judos and stuff!"
"Jedis, it's Jedis, Rach. You said you had seen Return of the Jedi. It's right there, in the title!!"
"Hey - I only went to see that movie because I heard Jimmy Valducci was going to be there!! I spent the entire two hours looking around for him in the theater, and then trying to find the right moment to 'bump into him'. Well, that, and going back and forth to the lobby to get more popcorn for Monica." She took her hair down, fluffed it. "Seriously, I mean, what is so interesting about this stuff? I just don't get it! It seems really dull to me…like…dinosaur dull!"
Chandler gasped dramatically, feigning insult. "Hey, now, we talked about this already! No – "
" – I know, I know… 'No making fun of The Movie.' Blasphemy, and all of that. I remember. But after this is over, I get to find something that I want to watch, and you have to sit here and like it, no matter what it ends up being."
"Hey, that wasn't part of the deal!"
"Chandler…" Her voice was a warning.
"OK, OK, you win." He turned his eyes back to the screen, resting his chin on the pillow once more. He was completely relaxed, and more than a little surprised that it was Rachel that had made him feel that way. He'd always considered her a sort of wild card; a friend, certainly, insanely beautiful, and of course, fun to be around - but not necessarily someone with whom he'd voluntarily spend an entire evening, alone, in a hotel room. She'd surprised him, though, and he realized with a jolt that if she hadn't agreed to watch the movie, he would have given in and turned the channel - just to keep her from leaving. That's…interesting…he thought to himself. Trying not to concentrate too long on the "Rachel-as-Leia" mental image Ross had inadvertently given him several years ago, he tuned back in to the movie. "Ooooh, here comes the good part!"
***
"Breakfast at Tiffany's?? Seriously?"
"Look, mister, we had a deal. No arguing." She ripped into the last bag of popcorn and cracked open another soda. "You'll like this, I promise!"
Chandler grumbled good-naturedly and swiped a handful of popcorn.
***
"Cat!? Cat!?!!" Audrey Hepburn sobbed from the television screen. "Oh, Cat…"
Rachel dabbed the corner of her eye with her T-shirt as Paul watched Holly wander through the alley in search of her beloved pet, almost breaking up completely at the sight of the feline huddled, wet and frightened, on a packing crate. As Holly wrapped her trench coat around the cat and turned to gaze at Paul, Rachel distinctly heard a sniff from Chandler's end of the bed. "Chandler, sweetie? Are you OK?"
He cleared his throat, affecting a deep, manly voice. "I'm fine. I just don't see what all the fuss is about." He began flipping aimlessly through the channels. "Besides, everybody knows they completely ignored the ending in the book when they made the movie."
Rachel smirked at his failed attempt at apathy, then frowned, confused. "Wait…there was a book?!"
***
Several hours later, Chandler awoke to the sound of the hotel room door opening. He realized that at some point, apparently still half-asleep, he had repositioned himself on the bed, as he was now underneath the blanket and staring at the back of Rachel's head. He heard muffled whispering from the doorway, but couldn't make out the words. There was a soft giggling noise, and then the door closed again, quietly. He waited to hear Joey make his way into the darkened room, but after a few moments of silence, he pushed himself up on his elbows to investigate. From the bluish light originating from the television, Chandler could see that no one had come inside. Squinting through eyes hazed with sleep, he read 1:14 a.m. on the alarm clock.
What's going on? Where's Joey?
Confused, he started to go look for his roommate, but the movement disturbed Rachel; mumbling, she turned and threw an arm across his back to draw him closer. Before he could slip away from her, exhaustion overtook him.
***
The next thing he knew, soft light was filtering in through the curtains, a car alarm sounding in the distance. He blinked several times, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar surroundings. Yawning widely, he eased himself up as carefully as possible, not wanting to wake Rachel. His bare feet found the scratchy carpet and he stood, stretching. Rachel made a small, contented sound and rolled over onto her back. He found himself staring down at her - mesmerized by the way the early morning sunlight played against the blonde strands of her hair, slightly mussed from sleep. Despite the fact that they had seen each other practically every day for the past four years, he was stricken by the feeling that he was looking at her for the first time. There was something almost angelic about her face, the way her nose turned slightly up at the tip; the way her long, dark eyelashes fluttered as she slept. He felt an odd tightening in his chest as he noticed her fingers curling around the edge of his pillow, gracefully, affectionately. He was resisting an inexplicable urge to lie back down beside her and sleep away the rest of the morning when the door popped open and Joey sauntered in, yawning loudly. Chandler jumped at the sudden noise, feeling a sharp surge of guilt, as if he'd done something naughty just by looking at her while she slept.
"Well, good mornin', sunshine," Joey whispered. His eyebrows bounced upward at the sight of Rachel sleeping soundly in Chandler's bed, with his own so obviously unused. "Well, well, well…what do we have here?"
Chandler scoffed, exaggeratedly. "With what? With Rachel?! Please…nothing happened, man. We just hung out last night, y'know, had some snacks, watched a movie." He scratched the back of his head, trying to appear casual and completely confident with his description of the previous evening. He heard Monica's voice in his head, on Richard's answering machine: I'm breezy! "I guess we fell asleep…wh-wh-where've you been?"
"I came in last night and saw you two, 'hangin' out'. Didn't want to interrupt anything, so I, ah, I slept in Monica and Rachel's room." He slipped off his shoes and unbuttoned his rumpled shirt. "So. You were here all night, alone, with Rachel, lookin' like she does, and you didn't try anything at all with her?" Joey shook his head in disappointment. "Chandler, you and me need to have a serious talk."
Chandler rolled his eyes. "You know, it doesn't always have to be about sex. Rachel is – she's practically asexual, as far as I'm concerned. I look at her like I'd – like I'd look at a sister!" Liar! Liar!! "She's my friend, man. That's all."
Joey shook his head again. "Dude, with guys and girls, that's never all."
***
Well, that's strangely insulting, thought Rachel, willing herself not to betray her state of nowhere-near-asleep. So…Chandler thinks I'm 'asexual'. Huh. She waited silently until she heard Joey announce that he needed a shower, and then pretended to be awakened by the sound of the bathroom door closing. Opening her eyes, she discovered Chandler in the entryway, systematically preparing coffee from the in-room coffeemaker. She mentally berated herself for finding his makeshift pajamas charming, his face endearing, bleary-eyed and sleep-tousled as he was. You have to admit, he *can* be adorable. It's too bad he thinks you're his little fucking 'sister'.
What does it even matter, anyway?, the logical voice inside her head chided her. It's not like you're interested in him – it's *Chandler*, for God's sake! In an attempt to silence her meaningless and bizarre inner dialogue, she faked a large, overly emphatic yawn and was slightly pleased to see that she had startled him.
"Mornin'," he greeted her, gruffly.
"Good morning," she replied, rolling onto her stomach and burying her face in her pillow, pointedly not acknowledging to herself the boyishly attractive way his hair stuck up at the back of his head. All right, all right, so it matters. It matters because even though I'm his friend, I'm still a woman! And he, as my friend, is required by law to publicly ignore that fact while privately admiring me! That's the rule! She frowned into her pillow. 'Asexual', my ass. I'll show him 'asexual'! She flipped casually over onto her back and kicked the blankets down to the bottom of the bed. Trusting that she had attracted his attention, she groaned and pushed her hands up into the headboard, stretching her body to its full length and making certain that her t-shirt slipped up just far enough to display her bellybutton. Noting the distinct absence of sound from Chandler's location by the coffeemaker, she rolled off of the bed and bounced to her feet energetically, facing him but squeezing her eyes tightly shut in yet another yawn. Freeing her hair from its sleep-rumpled ponytail, she combed her fingers through it and sighed prettily, leaning her head back and pushing her chest forward. She heard a noise from his direction and risked a glance towards him, finding a certain satisfaction in seeing that he was preoccupied with the box of filters he had just dropped. Mm-hmm.
She slipped her feet into her bedroom shoes and picked up her wallet and keycard. "Mmmmm…that coffee smells goo-ood. I hope Monica's got some across the hall." As she brushed past him, she lightly slid her fingers along his back. "I had a really good time last night, Chandler," she cooed against the back of his neck. "I guess I'll see you guys later on at the rehearsal dinner?"
"Y-yeah. I guess so. I mean, I'll be there, and Joey'll be there, and y-you'll be there. We'll all be there. So, ah…we'll see you there!"
She tossed a cheery "OK, bye!" in his direction, grinning widely as the door closed behind her. Now who's 'asexual'!?
Inside the room, Chandler stood, eyes bulging, with both of his hands gripping the countertop, knuckles white.
What the hell was that?!?
***
"Mon?" Her friend nowhere to be seen, Rachel dropped her wallet onto her – unused bed? Why does that – wait. Joey *just* said he slept here. If Joey slept here, then why isn't this bed messed up? Surely he didn't make it up before he left – he doesn't even make up his *own* bed. She examined the empty room, trying to find a logical explanation for the unfathomable conclusion towards which her brain was careening. But if he didn't sleep in my bed, then where – she gasped as the realization hit her.
She heard Joey saying, "That's never all," and gaped, open-mouthed, at the very idea.
Joey and *Monica*?!?! Nooooooooooo…it isn't possible! Stunned, she eased herself down onto her bed, resisting the urge to run directly across the hall and get Chandler's thoughts. I can't say anything to him – I wasn't supposed to have heard his conversation with Joey. I can't say anything to Joey, Monica isn't here – oh God, oh God, oh God…
As if on cue, the telephone rang. She dove for it, relief for the distraction flooding her veins. "Hello!?"
"Rach? Hi!!!" Phoebe's voice sounded in her ear, the most beautiful music she had ever heard.
"Pheebs!! Oh my God, am I glad to hear your voice!" She glanced at the clock, confused. "Wait – isn't it like – 4 a.m. there? What the hell are you doing out of bed?"
"Ugh…the babies were up all night, playing freeze tag on my bladder. Trust me, it's not something you can ignore. I just thought I would call to make sure the trip was OK, before everyone left the hotel for the day." She paused. "So, wait, so, what's up? Why are you so glad to hear my voice?"
Briefly, Rachel described the situation, pacing back and forth between the two beds. "…and so now, now I don't know what to do! I mean, Monica was so upset last night, and, and – the things Joey was saying this morning, Pheebs, I mean, obviously, whatever happened between him and Monica didn't mean very much to him, and she's just – she's not in a good place for something like this to happen!" Getting no immediate response from her friend, Rachel stopped her pacing, mid-stride. "Pheebs? Are you still there?"
"Hang on, I'm listening to Steve!" Phoebe continued to sit in patient silence, casting serious doubts in Rachel's mind as to whether or not she'd chosen the right person in which to confide.
"Steve? Who the hell is Steve?? Did you even hear anything I just said?"
"Steve is my spiritual connection in London. What, did you think I was going to just let you guys fly halfway across the planet without me and just, just sit here for three days, alone, completely out of the loop?? Please! Now, shhhh. Steve doesn't like to be interrupted."
Rachel prodded her right temple with her index finger. This wasn't going exactly as she'd expected. "Pheebs, really, I – "
"Rachel! Do you want my help or not?!"
"Yes, but – "
"Then shut up and let the man talk!!!!"
Rachel sighed, plopping down onto her bed again in frustration. She was just considering hanging up the phone when Phoebe's voice broke the silence. "OK, my sources tell me that nothing happened between Joey and Monica last night."
"But – "
"Let me finish! Nothing happened last night, but it's my understanding that something is definitely going to happen tonight. Don't worry, though. I have been assured that whatever is going to happen is a good thing, and I don't think you should interfere with that."
Rachel forced herself to be patient, counting to five before she responded. "But, Phoebe, you don't understand. Monica was talking crazy last night – she's thinking about Richard again! She said she was lonely! And, and, and then she went out to dinner with Joey, alone, and then this morning, he said – "
"Rachel, you already told me all of this. And I told you what I know. The universe has her reasons – you can't go messing with the universe and her - her reasoning!! Just calm down, go have some breakfast, maybe a Valium, and let things be. It's going to be fine. Trust me!"
Rachel felt certain about few things at the moment, but one thing she was certain of was that Phoebe was obviously not going to be of any help to her on this particular subject. "OK. OK. You're right. It's none of my business anyway. I'm just gonna go shopping, clear my head a little bit."
"Good, that's good! Steve tells me there's some really great shopping in London – he's happy to offer you some recommendations. Want me to ask him for addresses?"
Rachel smiled wanly. If nothing else, at least she felt a little better. "No, sweetie, that's OK. I got a guidebook." She lay back against the pillows. "So, freeze tag, huh?"
"Yeah, it was unbelievable. Leslie is definitely going to be an athlete. Chandler didn't really seem to want to play, though…
***
A/N – Reviews are welcomed, but please use the gentle cycle!
