Chapter 1: The Devil You Know

"OK! Sperm Donor #03815! Come on down!"

Chandler jerked sharply from over at the kitchen table when he heard Monica's chipper voice. He was busy watching Joey trying and failing to properly eat a jar of jam that the beautiful chef had brewed homemade. He now felt his stomach roil with an odd feeling of nerves at hearing Monica bring up sperm donors.

…. He hoped this didn't have anything to do with Richard. That her grieving the loss of her relationship was driving her to make irrational, impulsive, un-Monica decisions. Monica never did anything out of desperation, nor should she. She was more than that, far above that. Besides, being desperate, especially in matters of love, was his job. Chandler had every reason to be desperate. Whereas, with her confidence, her brightness, her beauty, Monica had no reason to be desperate. Shit, she had gotten one of her father's friends, a man old enough to be her father, to go 'Ah-OOOO-ga!' and boink her between the sheets with all the randyness of a cartoon character. Or a really, really horny teenage boy. While Richard didn't exactly look the part of a teenage boy, he had certainly acted like one by going to bed with a woman he had apparently known when she was in diapers.

Chandler shook his head, trying to ignore Monica flitting over to Rachel and Ross on the couch.

"OK: 6'2", 170 pounds and he describes himself as a male Geena Davis!"

Oh, crap….. Must… not…. Make a joke….

"So there's more than one of us?" Chandler smiled at Monica casting a pointed look at him over her shoulder.

"You can't do this, Mon!" Ross was moaning. "If you do this, I'm… I'm gonna…."

"You're gonna what?"

"I'm gonna…. Tell Mom…" Ross trailed off lamely.

"Honey, he's right; I'm sorry. I love you, but you're crazy…" Rachel murmured.

"What? Why? Why is this crazy?" Monica demanded. "So this isn't the ideal way to do something…"

"Oh, so it's not the ideal…?"

"Lips moving, still talking!" Monica cut off her brother schoolmarmishly. "I mean, it may not be ideal, but… I'm so ready! I… I see the way Ben looks at you. It… it makes me ache! You know?"

Joey ruined the moment by crowing about his ability to make jam crackers, which to Chandler appeared to be nothing more than a graham cracker with jam smeared on it. It was too clever by half.

"OK. All right - how's this?: 27. Italian American guy…" Monica read off, Ross nodding along. "He's… an actor. Born in Queens. Wow! - Big family! Seven sisters…. And he's the only…. Boy…." The Geller siblings' faces both fell with realization as they rounded on Joey, who was still happily nibbling on his jam crackers, in disbelief. "Oh my God - under personal comments: New York Knicks Rule!"

"Heck yeah the Knicks rule!" Joey crowed.

"Joey!" Monica whined, blushing. "This is you!"

"Lemme see…" Joey got up and rounded the table, reaching for the paper with his arm that wasn't in a sling. After a quick scan, his face lit up. "Oh, yeah!"

"When did you go to a sperm bank?" Rachel inquired, sounding as though she feared the answer.

"Well, right after I did that sex study, down at NYU. Hey, remember that sweater I got you for your birthday?" He turned to Chandler.

"And that's how you bought it?" Chandler squeaked, not wanting to think of his best buddy using blood money he'd gotten from jacking off into a cup to go on a shopping spree for his birthday.

"No…. That's what I was wearing when I donated!" All of Joey's friends studied him in horror; face buried in his file, he didn't notice. "I'm kinda surprised there's any of my boys left…"

"Oh, honey, it's pretty competitive," Monica explained. "I mean, I've got an actual rocket scientist here!"

"Hey, maybe I should call this place and get them to put my Days of Our Lives gig on here. Huh? Juice this puppy up a little!"

Chandler barely refrained from rolling his eyes.

Over on the ottoman, Phoebe was deep in thought. "Maybe you should accept Joey's profile, Mon."

"What?!" Ross whined, glancing to the ditzy masseuse in shock. Phoebe shrugged.

"I mean, what are the odds that a profile matching one of your best friends ends up in your lap for further screening? Maybe it's the universe trying to tell you something."

Ross started to laugh really uncomfortably, waving his hand dismissively. Monica, meanwhile, was studying Phoebe in bemused, even piqued thought.

"How do you mean, Pheebs?"

Phoebe bit her lip. "Well…. most women who go to a sperm bank prefer the donor to be anonymous. As in, he's just a number…." She gestured to Sperm Donor #03815. "But you can accept a donor who is known to you, as well. I think it's called an….. open donation, something like that." Her face brightened. "We get them all the time at the Red Cross during the holidays!"

All the others studied her dubiously. "Wow, those little tin pots must get to quite a boil with folks ejaculating into it from right off the street," Chandler quipped.

"Oh, they don't give sperm. They give money," Phoebe corrected, her tone making it sound as though Chandler had been genuinely confused.

Monica rose from her place on the couch, slapping Joey's file against her palm, deep in thought. Chandler observed her warily. He wanted to laugh same as Ross, but the sound got caught in his throat, which was starting to oddly constrict. He watched her curiously glance to Joey, then away. Joey cocked his head to one side, then glanced down and shuffled his feet.

She…. she couldn't possibly be, actually be considering this…. could she?

"I mean, Mon, be honest: wouldn't you rather have a child with a father who you did know than someone who you didn't?" Phoebe rationalized.

Monica took a deep breath. She studied Joey's donor profile one more time. Finally, taking a deep breath, she rounded on her friend. "OK." There was a thrilled, exhilarated, terrified smile on her face.

Joey glanced up sharply, his jaw dropping. "Huh? What?"

"Let's do it. Let's have a baby!"

Joey's eyes bulged. Ross leapt off the couch, letting out that really uncomfortable giggle again.

"Monica…"

His sister ignored him, staring at Joey. "I want to be a mother more than anything in this world. And if I could have a baby with someone I care about, all the better." She chuckled a little shyly. "You might be the last person I would have expected to pick, but damnit, my ovaries are about ready to damn burst, and I want to at least know what my kid and I are getting! So how about it, Tribbiani: …. do you wanna have kids with me?"

She was staring at Joey, her eyes searching him. Joey gaped at her for a long moment. …. And then he grinned broadly. "Why go through all the paperwork and red tape when we could do this the old fashioned way….?"

Monica gently pressed a hand into his chest, nudging him back, her lips pursed in a mixture of amusement and discomfort. "My ovaries aren't bursting that much, Joe!"

Joey smirked and shrugged, conceding the point. He took a deep breath. "…..OK"

Monica lifted one eyebrow. "OK…..?"

"OK!" Joey started to laugh. "Let's do it! Let's have a baby!"

Monica let out a noise that was a mixture of laughter and crying and she threw her arms around Joey's neck, hugging him. He lifted her off her feet and spun her around. Phoebe clapped her hands together giddily, bouncing up and down on the love seat. Ross and Rachel just glanced at each other, stunned.

Still over by the kitchen table, Chandler felt short of breath. A mixture of despair, wounded betrayal and another emotion he couldn't bear to name, much less acknowledge, was choking at his throat, cutting off his air. He staggered out of his chair, to his feet, the apartment feeling all at once too hot. He needed to get out of here. He needed air.

He stumbled over towards the side bookcase by the door, starting to round it, but his hip bashed into the corner and he let out a curse.

"Chandler, are you OK? What's the matter? Where are you going….?"

Rachel's voice called at his back, but he ignored it. Lurching, lunging for the door to Apartment 20, he wrenched it open and lumbered out into the hallway.

He was barely at the stairwell before he was breaking into a run.