Channie was sitting in front of her laptop chewing her nails. Her exam results were in, and she was deathly afraid of looking at them. If she didn't pass...

"Just do it," Ben suggested, making her jump. She had almost forgotten he was there.

"I can't 'just do it,'" Channie scoffed. "This is my life we're talking about here. If I failed..."

"You didn't fail," Ben cut her off. "You're are so damn smart that I bet you aced them all."

"I'm glad you have so much confidence in me," she sighed. "Wish I had some of that."

"You do have it," Ben told her. "You just don't believe it."

"Am I really that complicated?" she asked him.

"I wouldn't say complicated," he replied. Her phone rang just then, startling her.

"Hi, Mom," she said into it. "No, I haven't looked yet. Yes, they're posted. Why? I'm nervous. I know. I will! Yes, I will, I promise."

"Hi Mom," Ben said as she hung up.

"She doesn't know about you yet, remember?" Channie said.

"And when is that going to change? You did promise," Ben pointed out.

"If I pass these exams, you can have dinner with me and my parents," Channie promised.

"I'll hold you to that," Ben said sternly with a smile. He watched as she stared at the computer screen, blowing air out of her lips hard.

"I can't," she said, sitting back.

"Oh for Pete's sake," he said, grabbing her computer. He clicked on her name, and the grades popped up. "Oh my God."

"What? What?! I failed didn't I? Oh my God what am I going to tell Mom?!" Channie cried. She pulled at her hair.

"Channie," Ben said, awed. "You got 99, 96, 97, 92 on your exams."

"What did you say?" she whispered.

"Here," he said, turning her screen around. "Look for yourself. Chan, you passed!" She stared in disbelief. Then she screamed with joy. She threw her arms around Ben hard, knocking him off his chair. They crashed to the floor laughing and shrieking in delight. 7

"I told you you were smart," Ben said, "but I take it back. You're brilliant!"

"I just studied really, really hard," Channie said, crying now.

"You're gonna be a therapist, Chan," Ben smiled. "You achieved your dream. I'm so proud of you." He kissed her then, and she kissed back feverishly. She couldn't wait to tell her family, but she wanted this moment to last, just him and her. She was becoming more open to the idea that Ben was a fixture in her life. She was becoming more open to the idea of having a public relationship with him. It was on her lips as they were rolling around kissing, the words "I love you." She felt startled that they came to her mind at all. She never thought she could fall in love with anyone ever again. The problem was, she wasn't brave enough to voice these words. As Ben sat on top of her and pulled off her clothes, she wanted to say them, she really did. They were trapped in her throat. She knew he wouldn't say it first because she had explained mostly everything to him, but a piece of her wish he would so she could say it back. She felt the prompt would help her, but unfortunately, Ben had no idea that she wanted him to say it. So she kept silent. Maybe next time they popped into her brain, she would be able to say them out loud.

Frank

He was unpacking another skid of dried goods on another day of another boring job. Frank had landed here at the local grocery/general store as a "box boy" or someone who stocked shelves and unloaded boxes. It was pretty tame and boring, but it paid him, and money was something he needed right now. He didn't go to school like his sister, Chandler, did. He was like his dad in that department. School was the first thing you bailed on as soon as you got the chance. He was lucky he even made it to grade 12 and graduation, but his mother ensured he pulled through. It didn't help to have her yelling at him in the halls to pick up his bootstraps, stop making out with girls and stick his head into a book. He smiled a little. He really did give her a run for her money at times.

"Buffay?" a voice asked. He looked up.

"Yea?" he asked.

"Cleanup in aisle 10," his coworker sniggered. Frank sighed. Since he was still technically new, the other staff enjoyed making him do all the dirty jobs. He wondered if they made the messes themselves sometimes. He rounded the corner to find Emma standing amongst a sea of pickle juice. She was holding her nose to block out the smell, and she looked like she was about to cry.

"Emma?" Frank asked. She looked over at him.

"Frank," she said. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I'm new," he replied, pointing to his In Training badge.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," she said, launching into an explanation of how her purse had caught the jar on the shelf as she had passed. Frank didn't care. She just looked so damn cute in pickle juice, not that he could tell her. It would mortify her to death.

"It's okay," he laughed. "Let me get a mop. Just stand still." He left and came back. She was still looking embarrassed as he mopped up around her.

"Thank you," she said after. "I think these shoes are done for, though."

"That's too bad," he said, looking down at her feet. They were pretty feet too. Everything about Emma was just so pretty.

"I'll see you later?" Emma said as a question.

"Yea. Hey, did you get that job in the end?" Frank asked as she turned to go. She stopped.

"No," she said, a flicker of irritation going across her face. "But as my mom says, I need to be in the right place at the right time."

"You could work here," Frank said stupidly. He knew it was ridiculous as soon as he said it out loud. Emma stared at him.

"What?" she asked.

"I mean, you're in a place at a time," he rambled. "You could work here. There's an opening. We also have a clothing department."

"Really," Emma said.

"Yea. I know you're into fashion and all, but maybe you could, like, give some input to the clothing manager. She's always looking for new ideas."

"Interesting," Emma mused. "Frank, thank you. I'll look into it." She smiled at him brightly, making his insides melt.

"You're welcome," he said. She waved goodbye and wandered over to the clothing department. He smiled to himself. Wouldn't it be glorious to work with Emma every day? He couldn't even imagine.

Erica

"It's finished," Erica said, collapsing onto the couch.

"Hey, hey!" Jack yelped. "Paint!" She groaned and got back up. Out of the two of them, Jack took after their mother more, which was odd to both of them.

"Don't you even want to see it?" Erica asked. "I've spent a whole week on it."

"Of course I want to see it," Jack said. "I just don't want you to get paint on the apartment."

"Okay, Mom," Erica said, rolling her eyes. Ignoring her dig, Jack followed her to her room. He stopped short in front of the easel, jaw open in awe.

"You...you...wow," he said. "Just...wow. I don't know what else to say."

"Really?" Erica asked. "You think so?"

"It's amazing! It's...stupendous! Honestly, you have a gift," he said, nodding to her. He looked back to the painting. It was a country scene, one from the place their parents had taken them on vacation once one weekend years ago. Erica had captured the essence of the dirt road and the blazing fall colors on the trees.

"How much should I charge for it?" Erica asked timidly.

"Honestly? I'd say at least 800 bucks," Jack said. "I've seen much worse for 500, and I wouldn't pay 10 cents for them."

"Oh, that seems like a lot to ask for," Erica said, worried.

"Hey, you just spent like a week and a half straight painting this, and don't forget all your supplies. Erica, it's worth at least 800. Maybe even more."

"No, no! I think 800 is enough," Erica replied hurriedly.

"If you say so," he shrugged. "I can be your manager if you want."

"No. Thanks, but I'm good," Erica said. She hugged herself when he left, looking at her picture. It really was something. She just wished her parents would be proud of her. Monica had been less enthusiastic than Chandler had been. Erica knew they wanted her to be in school, but she needed the money first. This was how she was going to do it, and if she succeeded, then maybe she would just keep doing this altogether. She didn't have to decide right now.

Monica & The Gang

It was Phoebe and Mike's homecoming. Monica had everything all perfect. She was excited to see her friend again. She just hoped everything went without a hitch.

"Mon, relax," Chandler said, rubbing her shoulders. "Everything is amazing. You've outdone yourself."

"Yes, you have," Ross chimed in. "Monica, you've gotten a lot better at this in your old age."

"Oh ha ha," Monica replied sarcastically.

"You're a better hostess than me," Rachel added. Her concentric circles were still not up to Monica's standards, but she learned not to care as much.

"She's here!" Joey called, excited. He bounced up and down at the doorway, waiting for them to knock. When it came, he flung open the door so hard it almost came off its hinges.

"Phoebs!" he shouted, pulling her into a bear hug.

"Hello to you too," Mike said behind Phoebe.

"Get in here!" Joey called, grabbing him and pulling him in. The others stood to the side until Joey was done crushing them.

"You all look so beautiful!" Phoebe cried, hugging them all. Mike followed behind her. "Oh, I missed you so much!"

"It's been too long," Monica agreed. Two years was a long time not to see her dear friends. She noticed Phoebe looked tired.

"Tell me about Paris!" Rachel demanded. She wished she had at least gone and visited during the whole potentially working in Paris ordeal all those years ago, and she never had the nerve to ask Ross to go since. She felt it was kind of taboo, that Paris would rip their relationship apart like it almost did back then.

"It was fantastic!" Phoebe said. "I brought you something." She held out a dress that she had bought for Rachel.

"Oh my God!" Rachel squealed. "You shouldn't have!" She snatched it and held it up to herself. "It's soooo beautiful!"

"It is lovely," Monica said, feeling a tad jealous.

"Oh, Mon, I got you this," Phoebe said, pulling out a cookbook. It had all of Paris' delicacies within it, and Monica was impressed that Phoebe would think to get her something like that. She was so sure she'd get an apron with some dirty French saying on it.

"Wow, Phoebe," Monica said, flipping through it. "This is great! There's so much in here!"

"We're gonna be eating French food for months aren't we?" Chandler asked in his usual sarcastic tone.

"Yes, and if you wanna do other French things, then you'll stop talking," Monica told him. He got her gist.

"So what made you decide to come home?" Ross asked.

"Well," Mike said, looking at Phoebe. "We just felt it was time."

"Yea, and we missed you guys so much," Phoebe added.

"What about the triplets?" Joey asked. "Are you kicking them out of your apartment?"

"No," Phoebe replied. "Mike got us another place."

"Oh? Where?" Ross asked.

"Funny story..." Mike said.

Leslie

She was hurrying around and trying to get dinner finished before Chandler and Frank came home. It had to be perfect. This was the dish she was going to present to her Aunt Monica and Monica's partner at the restaurant. Monica had called and told her she had a chance at working there with them if her dish was good enough. Leslie heard Frank's steps at the door.

"Holy crap," Frank said when he entered. "Something smells incredible in here."

"Really?" Leslie asked, popping her head out. "You think so?"

"I'm already drooling," he answered. "Can I eat right now?"

"It's still cooking," Leslie giggled. Her brother always knew how to make her laugh.

"I'm hoooome!" Channie called. "Wow, Les! I feel like I've just walked into a 5 star restaurant."

"Oh my God! Chandler!" Leslie shrieked. "Really?!"

"Dish it up! I wanna taste the amazing smell," Channie said, hopping up on the barstool beside Frank.

"It needs like 10 more minutes," Leslie said. She stirred and simmered as they chattered behind her. If it was as amazing as they were saying it was, then she might have a shot.

"You passed?!" Frank exclaimed. Leslie whipped her head around. Channie was red in the face but very happy.

"Congratulations!" Leslie shouted. She went around and hugged her sister.

"So now what?" Frank asked.

"I look for a job," Channie answered. She wasn't looking forward to that part. The only other thing she hated besides exams was interviews. It was a whole different avenue of life she was about to embark on. She looked around at her siblings and felt at peace and happy. Life was just getting good.