"Phoebe, are you sure you can't wait a little? I mean, it is still early ..."

"Of course I can't wait! I need to be out of here by ten! Latest!"

"Ten?!"

"Yeah. That's when they get around to – making their rounds. You know, after they'd had their coffees, checked their mail, finished their briefings –"

"Who?"

"What do you mean who? They! Them! The – the government guys!"

"Oh them. Ten a.m. though? That would mean you're pretty high up on their lists. Are you sure you're not like something around one or two p.m., first thing after lunch break?"

"You don't think thirteen million dollars would get me a spot in the morning?"

Chandler sighed. "Can I at least finish my coffee?"

"You do realize they'll arrest you as accessory if they find me here …?"

Not for the first time Chandler wished that Monica was there. It was most unfortunate that she was in charge of the breakfast shift that day and had had to leave early. He had wanted to get some writing done until she returned, but clearly Phoebe had other plans – and he was definitely no match for her, not alone by himself.

"Nobody will find you here. Because no one will look." But he could see in her face that it was absolutely no use arguing with her.

"Fine. Just give me your keys. You can join me later."

No use whatever, so Chandler sighed again as he got up from his chair. "Alright, I'm coming … No, you'd better let me go in first."

"Why?"

"Well, you know … Eddie doesn't really like strangers …"

"I'm not a stranger. He stalked me for years!"

"Right. He did. But still –"

"Just open the door. Come on!"

Chandler shrugged resignedly and put the key into the lock. "I still don't think – oh, he's put the chain on. Guess we'll have to wait after all."

"What? Let me see. Uh-huh … Just give me some room."

"Pheebs? What are you doing?" Phoebe was standing quite still with her shoulder to the door and her eyes screwed shut in concentration while she carefully slid her hand into the crack between the door and the jamb, fumbling at the chain. "Easy! If I need that lock changed again, Treeger will kill me!"

"Don't worry … there … Yes! I've got it! Yay! Ughh, what's that smell?"

"There's a smell? But there wasn't one – oh no, is he dead?"

"I don't know. Who?"

"My roommate! Is he dead?"

"How should I know? He's not here!" Phoebe moved forward cautiously and Chandler deemed it safe to put his head around the door. From what he could see everything looked normal. Normal as in quiet and seemingly deserted, and –

"Ugh, you're right with the smell. That's the aquarium. He must have forgotten to feed his fish again."

"But you said he only kept goldfish crackers?"

"Also real fish, but they never last long … Well I guess he's not here – what are you doing?!"

Phoebe had gone over to his roommate's door and bent down to peep through the peephole.

"Pheebs? Is he –"

"SSHHH!" Phoebe waved him off without taking her eyes off the keyhole. "I think … I think he's asleep. There's someone in the bed anyway."

"Let me see … Ah. Okay. Yeah, it's the dummy."

"What?"

"The dummy. Don't you remember? Joey got it for me before he moved out, so I wouldn't feel so lonely."

"Oh. Oh that one! Yeah! Are you sure?"

"Yup. Eddie never sleeps in his bed, too dangerous."

"Where does he sleep then?"

"On the floor in front of the door. In case someone comes in you know."

"Oh. Is that where he's now?" Phoebe got down on her knees and tried to look under the door. "Don't think so, there's nothing to block the light ..." She got up again. "I guess he left then. Pity. What time does he come back usually?"

"No idea. Could be anytime."

Phoebe considered for a moment and then shrugged it off. "Okay, I'll deal with him later. Now let's get your things out of your room, so I can move in."

"Now? You want to move in now?"

"Didn't I say that? Of course I mean now!" Phoebe strode over determinedly to his room and pushed the door open, nearly falling into the room when the lower half remained in place.

"Hey, your door is still sawn in half! I thought you'd fixed that!"

"No. I tried gluing it, but Eddie separated it again."

"Why did he do that?"

Chandler winced. "So it's easier for him to get into my room. He does that … sometimes. Well, all the time really."

Phoebe shrugged again. "To check if anything's changed? Of course he would do that. What's so weird about that?"

Chandler stared. "You're okay with that? What if he does it when you're there?"

Phoebe's smile widened. "Oohh, I hope he does! I can't wait to see his face when he sees it's me! Hey, that will be so exciting!" She went into his room and stood at the end of the bed, looking around her critically. "Let's get your stuff out before he gets back. What shall we take first? That dresser?"

"That's not mine, it was here when I moved in."

"Oh. The bookshelf then."

"Also not mine."

"The wardrobe?"

"That actually is mine – but I don't think it can be moved. It's pretty shaky -" He winced when Phoebe tried to open it. "Careful! You need to hold on to the jamb like this, otherwise – oh shoot. Yeah, like that – ouch – oops – oh shoot …" Just as Phoebe jumped back, the upper shelf of the wardrobe broke off and crashed to the floor, spilling his shirts and pants on the way.

"Great. Now what? Where will I put all my clothes?"

"Did you really think you could move that crap over to Monica's? We'd better throw it away."

"But where will you put your clothes?"

"My wardrobe of course. We'll move it over. But we have to get your things out first. What? What's the matter?"

Chandler sat down on his bed and stared disconsolate at the wreck of his wardrobe.

"I don't know. All of this is happening so fast - I guess, I haven't really thought it through."

"So?"

"Well … I mean, it didn't matter much before, but now – look at this. All I have is pretty much crap - there's almost nothing I want to keep. My laptop is already over at Monica's. A few clothes, some books, maybe this radio – that's it."

"Really? That's great! I thought I would need all day to move, but now –"

"But Phoebe – I'm not sure I should. Not anymore."

"What? Why? But I thought you wanted to! Don't you want to live with Monica anymore?"

"Of course I do. But – this is so sudden. Ross was right. What if – what if it doesn't work?"

"Of course it will work. You love her, don't you?"

"Yes. Yes I do." And as soon as he said it, he realized that it was true. When Phoebe looked at him strangely, he blinked at her confusedly. "What?"

"It's just – wow, I just didn't expect you to be so … certain."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. She loves you too, you know. I'm not sure why, but she does. So why shouldn't it work?" As he gestured at his room helplessly, she snorted. "Just because you don't have a lot of stuff? She'll love you all the more for it, because this way she can keep all her stuff the way it is. You know how she hates to change things in her apartment. When I moved in it took us months to get adjusted. I'm even not quite sure we are adjusted yet!"

Chandler sighed. "Maybe you're right. But I still feel as if I should bring something with me. Just so I don't feel like a complete parasite."

Phoebe patted him on the back. "Oh, don't worry about that. If it was any other woman you'd move in with, then yeah, maybe, but with Monica – I think you'll be fine. Yes, you will. Better than me probably."

"Well, maybe. But what if we have a fight? Or if I can't pay the rent? Where would I go?"

"You could move back here again. Or live with Joey. Or Ross if he has a place by then. Chandler! Why are you so worried? You won't fight with Monica. And even if you do she'll never kick you out. Though it's possible you'll have to sleep on the sofa once in a while ... And trust me, the rent is the last thing you need to worry about."

"Oh. Well, if you're sure …"

"Yes, I am. Now let's get going. I want all traces of me eliminated from Monica's apartment. As if I've never even been near the place! Come on, we'll put your things in boxes and make room here, then we'll get my things."

Chandler got up from the bed. "Right. But I don't want to move my things over just yet. Not before Monica says it's okay."

Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Fine! But you really needn't worry you know. You're shaping up as the perfect henpecked hubby already."

.

In fact, packing up his clothes, linen, towels and other belongings was accomplished almost depressingly fast. Hardly an hour later, the boxes with his stuff were stacked in a corner of the living room and they could start on Phoebe's things. As it turned out, most of the furniture in her room belonged to Monica's apartment, so after moving the wardrobe they only had to pack up her clothes, linen, throws, blankets, and various small things, like lamps, candles, books, an assortment of handbags and briefcases plus an impressive ashtray collection. And also two big … art things. Chandler vaguely assumed they were pictures, since they came in frames. If pictures could still be called pictures if they had dolls stuck on them with their arms and legs hanging out of the frame anyhow, for all the world like they wanted nothing better than to break out of their homes and go exploring. Secretly he was rather glad that Phoebe wouldn't think of leaving them behind.

"Hey, careful with Gladys, she's a little –"

"Loose? Unhinged? Not all there?"

"Fragile." Phoebe shot him a dirty look. "And look who's talking, that Beetlejuice poster of yours looks ready to crumble to dust – ugh, what's that? Hey, there's a hole in the wall behind it!"

"That's from a wall plug. The walls are pretty thin here."

"No, it's a hole! An actual hole! I think I can look into your roommate's room!"

"What? No way. Why would there be – oh my god."

"Well, it's Eddie. I'd have been more surprised if there hadn't been a spyhole."

"But how did he see anything through the poster? Oh no, look at that, he put a hole through that too!" Right through the window of the house that Beetlejuice was sitting on, where it didn't show unless you looked really hard. Chandler tried to look through the hole into the other room, but couldn't actually discern much. The blinds seemed to be down and the room was almost dark.

"I can't believe he watched me through that. I mean, why?"

"Beats me." Phoebe smirked. "Maybe he just fed a wire through here or something."

"Are you really going to be okay here, Pheebs?"

"Oh yes! Don't worry about me. I'm going to beat him with his own weapons. Oooh, that will be so exciting!"

"Well, if you change your mind, you're always welcome to your old room. I don't think Monica and I are going to use it much."

Phoebe grinned at him. "That's what you think. I'm betting you anything that Monica will turn it into a perfect guestroom. You know with lace curtains and chintz bed covers and dolls sitting in easy chairs. And a Victorian tea table with covered legs and a really fancy china tea set that can't be used ever, only looked at. Kind of like a life size dollhouse room where you can't even sneeze without breaking something – what?"

Chandler stared. "Seriously?"

"Well, it sort of looked like that before I moved in. Don't you remember?"

"I think that was before I moved in here. Oh god. You really think she wants that room back?"

Phoebe shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe she changed her mind by now. It was a long time ago. You'll find out, won't you? Now, do we have everything? Oh, what about my bed?"

"Is it actually yours?"

"No, but the mattress is. And oh god, I almost forgot!" And she rushed out of the room and back to apartment #20, with an almost terrified expression on her face. When Chandler caught up with her, he found her lying on the floor by the bed, groping around under it.

"Oh no, she's gone, she's – ah, oh thank god! I got her! To think I almost forgot her!" And she sat up again cradling a large silver vase like container in her arms.

"Forgot who?"

"My grandmother! Ooh, I could never leave her behind! At least not until I find the right place for her to be scattered. Until then I have to keep her."

"Under your bed?"

"I didn't want to freak out Monica with her, but I couldn't put her into the wardrobe. Too dark and lonely. Do you think Eddie will mind if I put her on the counter?"

"No idea. I think when he comes back, your grandmother will be the least of his worries."

"Oh good! Okay, that's only the mattress left now, and then we're set. Ooh, that makes me so happy! I think I have to write a song about it. Hmm … 'moving, grooving, gotta keep moving … keep my granny moving too …' Something like that?"

.

When Monica came back at noon, Phoebe's former room really looked as if she never had lived there. Except for the remaining furniture, the carpet and the curtains it was completely bare. Chandler hadn't wanted to put his horrible old mattress into the bedstead without consulting Monica first, and the empty frame made the room look even more deserted.

"Chandler, come on, let me see!"

"Uh-uh. You don't want to see this."

"Oh please. This is still my apartment. I've seen worse!"

"Really? I don't think so. Seriously, it's - - rather grim. Dreary even."

"Did you and Phoebe really clear out everything?"

"Pretty much. Everything that didn't belong here."

"Oh. That's … Wait. Did she take Gladys too? Please tell me she did!"

"Yes, she did. Glynnis too. And her grandmother. "

"Glynnis' grandmother? Oh, you mean her grandma's … ashes."

"Yup. Though she nearly forgot those."

"Thank god she remembered. So there's nothing left? But where's your stuff? Why didn't you put it here already?"

"I didn't want to move it behind your back."

"Oh that's so sweet! You left everything? Your furniture?"

"I don't have any furniture. Well, the wardrobe, but we threw that away when it broke down."

"No furniture? Your bookshelf?"

"Not mine."

"Your desk?"

"I don't have a desk."

"Oh my. Your … oh, your bed?"

"Not mine. I've got a mattress though, but it's really crappy. Actually Phoebe left her bedstead and just took the mattress."

"So what do you have?"

Chandler hesitated, trying to meet her gaze and failing. "Actually … not much."

"I see." And then she took his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "And you feel bad for that?"

"Umm … maybe. Most of it is so old and crappy – I really don't want to have it here. It wouldn't fit. It's not – " he got caught in her steady blue gaze and swallowed heavily. "It's not – good enough."

Her gaze softened. "Chandler …"

"That's what I realized when Phoebe and I were packing everything. I don't have anything that's worth anything. Never had really."

"That's not true. And even if it was – there's still you. And I want you, no matter what you bring with you. Even if you had absolutely nothing, it still would mean that I get to have so much more than I had before!"

He grinned. "Nothing? Even if I was completely naked?"

"Oooh, could you be? Then I could dress you up again - oooh, I'd love that!" And she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips on his.

"Ummm … mmmh … okay, should I take my clothes off here or across the hall …? Ouch … mmh … ha, then I'd be like that French princess!"

"Huh?"

"I think I saw that on TV once. There was this French crown prince who had to marry a foreign princess and they met at the French border. And she had to leave everything she owned behind, even her clothes and cross the border completely naked."

"Oh my god. Wasn't that Marie Antoinette?"

"Could be. So, if you insist …?"

She smiled widely and twinkled at him. "Well, not in the hall … but maybe on the doorstep of my bedroom? OUR bedroom I mean."

"Really? Ours?"

"Of course ours! If you live here, then it's yours too. And I definitely want you naked, but not right now, because I'm starving. Aren't you hungry too, after all that packing?"

"Actually I really was, but now …"

"Aw, come on. Look at it this way, if I don't get anything to eat now, I lose more weight, and you hate that."

"That's true. Have you lost more weight?"

"I don't know, I didn't check. Maybe."

"Remind me to check that. Really thoroughly."

.

During lunch he told her how he had spent the morning packing and moving with Phoebe, and about the mysterious absence of his roommate and the hole in his wall.

"What a creep! I hope he won't come back. Or that Phoebe'll scare him away for good. Ooh, maybe I had better check if he had a camera installed in my apartment too!"

"What? Oh god. You're right, I never thought of that. But there wasn't one in Phoebe's room, I'm sure of that."

"But what about here? In the kitchen? Or my bedroom – oh my god!"

"I don't think so. You would have noticed."

"Really?"

"Of course. Remember the time Joey rearranged the fridge magnets? No, I don't think Eddie ever got into this apartment. He was too scared of Phoebe."

"But can we check anyway?"

"Of course we'll check. I want to be sure he's not watching us ... do stuff."

She twinkled. "So maybe we should do it in Phoebe's room until we're sure."

"But there's no bed in there. No mattress. And no, I'm not putting my old mattress in there. It's too old, and besides, it won't hold up."

"Hold up to what? Oh. That bad?"

"'Yup. And now that I've spent so many nights in your bed, I don't want to go back to it anymore."

"Our bed" she corrected him gently. "That's so sweet! But then we'll have to get a new mattress."

"For what? The guest room?"

Monica looked startled. "What guest room?"

"Well … Phoebe said, you wanted to have a guest room. With lace curtains and chintz covers and – um – well, that's what she said."

"Oh. Um, yeah, I may have wanted that. Once. Before you … before us."

"And now? What's wrong with a guest room?"

"Nothing, but I thought, if you lived here, maybe you would like to have a workroom. You know, where you could write."

"Oh. Oh my god. You're right. I could use it for writing … but –"

"But? It's perfect! No one would disturb you there."

"But I don't need a work room. I never had one before."

"I know. You always come here to write."

"True. Actually it's where I work best. In your kitchen."

"Our kitchen."

"Right. Our kitchen. That's even better. So what would I need a work room for? Also it's too big for an office."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Anyway, we needn't decide right now. Maybe we'll find another use for the room before long."

"Like what? A store room? I already have a closet, you know."

"I was thinking, if it should turn out that you're really pregnant …"

Monica covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes widening. "Oh my god! I keep forgetting. Um. Yeah. Of course, it could be the baby's room. But – "

"I know. I don't want to think about that either. Not until we're sure." He leaned forward and put his arm around her. "For the time being we can put all those boxes with my stuff in there. Later though. I had other plans for our afternoon."

She grinned conspiratorial. "Don't you have anything to do? What about Joey?"

"On Friday afternoon? He's probably on his way to a party already."

"And Phoebe's still unpacking. Wow, looks like we're both free!"

"What? You mean, you don't have anything either? No vacuuming? Laundry? Window cleaning? Ironing?"

"Weeelll – if you put it that way …" When his face fell, she burst out laughing. "Gotcha! No, there's nothing that can't wait."

"Even unpacking?"

"Oooh, unpacking! Yes, but later. For now I only want to unpack you."

Chandler closed his eyes in bliss. "No problem."

.

Much later they lay close together on her bed (their bed, even though he still had trouble believing it), arms and legs still intertwined, resting and catching their breath. Earlier Monica had drawn the blinds two thirds down and shut the door, and now it seemed to him as if they were removed from the world outside, in their own little bubble of space in the twilit room where no one could intrude on them, or spy on them, even care about what they were doing, leaving them completely in peace. It made him realize how much he had longed for that, to be completely at peace with himself and the world. And yet not alone, or worse, lonely.

"You know, I never thought I would have sex in the afternoon. I mean, I'd pretty much given up on sex too, but during daytime too – that's soo … I don't know, decadent? Bohemian?"

"I wouldn't know. I never had sex at night before you."

"Really? Why?"

"I don't know why. We always did it in the daytime. She never let me stay the night."

Monica opened her mouth to say something and shut it again, just looking at him expectantly. Chandler took up a strand of her hair to play with it, not meeting her eyes.

"I still don't know why. She wasn't married or something like that. But she was – sort of particular. Very much so. She had very firm ideas about everything, especially sex … Are you sure you want to know?"

"Of course. I wanted you to tell me before, only there was always something else –"

"That came up?" He grinned. "Yeah I know. But it's a rather pathetic story. Bound to be a letdown for you."

"That doesn't matter. I want to hear it. Was she really your first? What's her name?"

"Her name was Joanna."

"Was?"

"She died in a car accident."

"Oh my god, that's terri-"

"Not for me. I know it sounds horrible, and I feel bad for not feeling bad about it, but it was kind of a relief. Until then I had been living in fear that she would find me again one day."

"Why, what would she have done?"

"Chained me to her bed probably. Again. Or her desk."

"… Chained? Oh my god. Why –"

"Well, she needed to be in control. All the time. Otherwise it didn't work for her. She had to set up everything beforehand. Time, place, position –"

"What position?"

"There was only one. She was always on top. It was either that or no sex at all."

"Oh god. Did that even work for you, I mean, could you even –"

"Yeah. Sort of. I told myself that I got to have sex and that was all that mattered. But it wasn't easy. She would always take so long. So before she got the cuffs, it actually got quite boring. I nearly fell asleep once. "

"And then?"

"Then she got the cuffs, and I got scared – on top of being bored." He smiled wryly when her eyes widened even more. "Scared that she would leave me like that, chained to the bed for hours, while she went shopping or to work even. And yes, that really happened. Once. But after lying there for two hours I found that I could get out of the cuffs with a little squeezing – okay, a lot of squeezing – and then I just grabbed my clothes and lammed it. And that was the last time I saw her. And had sex actually, before you."

"Oh my god. I'm sorry you had it so bad. Though I'm glad she didn't spoil it completely for you."

"No, she didn't. Though I was a bit discouraged for a while."

"And I suppose you'll never want it in that position again?"

"Oh. Actually – I haven't really thought about it. You're right, we've never had you on top, have we?"

"Yeah, but that's okay, I don't want that anyway."

"Why? I think I'd like to try it with you."

"But – but I don't."

"Why not? Don't worry, I won't fall asleep. You're nothing like her."

"I know!"

"So?"

"I don't want to. Well, not now. Maybe later, when I'm –", and she pressed her lips together, avoiding his gaze.

"When …?" he prompted gently.

"When … when I'm not so heavy …" now she was crimson all over. Chandler just blinked at her confusedly.

"You're not too heavy. Actually I really don't mind that you're heavy. Which you aren't. Not to me at least." He put an arm around her and drew her close. "I want you just as you are."

"I know. I know that, but …"

"You won't crush me either if that's what you're afraid of. And I won't fall asleep, not with you. I just want you, no matter in what position. On top, sideways, doggy style, whatever. It doesn't matter, as long as it's with you." When she opened her mouth again he shushed her with his and for a good while they remained like that, locked in a close embrace and kissing until they ran out of air. When her breasts pressed against his chest, the nipples hardening again, it made his head swim with sweet desire, and he felt himself getting ready for round two at once. Then Monica drew back a bit, breathing hard, and smiling a little uncertainly.

"Um … what exactly is doggy style?!"