Chapter 3: I'm Doing This Because I….

It was dark by the time Chandler arrived back at Bedford Street, hiking up to the third floor. Standing in the space between Apartments 19 and 20, he briefly debated poking his head in and asking Monica how she was doing. Maybe he could glean more about her decision. A part of him dared to hope that she had come to her senses and backed out of having a baby with Joey Tribbiani of all people. Flip-flopping wasn't a good look in most areas, including politics and especially in deciding whether or not to have a baby, but in this case, Chandler thought Monica going back to her original instinct might prove prudent. She had been all ready to reject Joey's profile once she had identified him, initially…. Her reversal had and still disturbed him. He fought to keep his paranoid thoughts from running away from him.

Chandler was just deciding that he would sleep on his thoughts (while hoping Monica did too…. with her own thoughts, not his. That would be weird) when he heard voices coming from behind the door of Apartment 20.

"Mon, if you think this is some way to force Joey to…. grow up, agreeing to accept his sperm and have his baby isn't the way to do it!" Rachel sounded adamant.

Chandler drifted closer to the door, intrigued. Just as it was never a good idea to take the decision of having a baby lightly, it was even worse to use the possibility of reproduction as a sort of joke. He hoped that Monica didn't have any ulterior motives like the one Rachel had just floated, bonkers as it sounded. If this was some sort of practical joke or prank on the part of Monica, it was far from funny – she shouldn't be playing on Joey's feelings like that. Setting aside for the moment his beliefs regarding whether or not Joey was ready to be a father, Chandler could tell his roommate had been excited when Monica had reconsidered his profile.

…. And yet, at the same time, a tiny part of Chandler hoped that Monica was pulling a joke, in agreeing to take Joey's sperm.

What Chandler heard Monica say next dashed that little bit of hope:

"Rach, you know I wouldn't joke about something like this! Phoebe's right: I would rather be pregnant with the child of someone I knew and cared about, then by some stranger."

Hearing this rationale stung all the worse for Chandler. With Richard's departure from the scene, there were only three men whom Monica was close enough with to really care about. Eliminating Ross for reasons including, um, incest, that left either Joey or Chandler in contention as someone whom Monica, by the criteria just laid out, would consider having her baby with.

When given a coin-toss choice between the two, Monica had chosen Joey. She had chosen Joey over him, Chandler. The man who was arguably her best guy friend. Why? It didn't make sense, and it for damn sure hurt. Chandler couldn't put this feeling into thought yet – he didn't dare.

"….. besides," Monica was continuing. "My child would have the famous Tribbiani genes. Joey's one of eight children, Rache – I'd be almost guaranteed to get a fertilization on the first try!"

Chandler would have called this shrewd strategy, if it also didn't on some level disgust him. Considering, viewing Joey on the merits of his ability to achieve a conception felt as though Monica was using him. As if he was some sort of baby factory. It felt cheap, especially for such a heavy decision. Then again, Chandler supposed that was one of the metrics by which a sperm donor candidate was weighed: their genetic make-up, family history and all that. By that measure, at least, he couldn't help but admit that Joey outclassed him. The prized only son amidst seven sisters, whereas he, Chandler, had been an only child born to two people who in retrospect had no business being parents in the first place. Chandler wouldn't even look at himself and see sperm donor material. Not with his gene pool and history of familial drama. He wouldn't wish that on any fetus, especially not Monica's.

Thoughts in a tempest, he turned away and reached for the door handle to his own apartment. He was just opening it when he heard the door to Apartment 20 open behind him, followed by someone sucking in a breath. Chandler froze, ice in his veins, fearing that he had been caught eavesdropping. Then a force was plowing into his back as someone threw her arms around his neck.

"Chandler!" Monica spun him around, only to sway onto her tiptoes and throw her arms around his neck again. "Thank God! Where have you been?! We've been worried sick!"

Chandler gazed at her, baffled. "I went for a walk."

"For three hours?!" Monica gaped at him. "I would have already long ago called the cops, if Ross and Joey hadn't told me to chill out!"

He couldn't help but smirk at that, while also inwardly letting warmth flood him at the thought that Monica had fretted about him so. Her bright, baby blue eyes were searching him with tender concern.

"Are you OK, sweetie? ….. You left really abruptly."

Chandler pretended to slough it off, even as he fought to hide how his face was flushing. "I felt hot. Needed some air." Now it was his turn to search her face. "Are you really going to have Joey's baby?"

Monica smiled nervously, excitement dancing in her eyes. "I know! Seems crazy, doesn't it?"

Chandler nodded, the motion barely perceptible. It was crazy, all right, but saying so, even in concurrence…. He didn't want to risk offending her.

"I…. I just want to make sure you and he have thought this through."

"Joe and I have talked about it. We had a serious discussion after you left." Monica bit her lip, wringing her hands. "He's honored, of course. Thrilled."

"Does he even know what this means?" Chandler barked out suddenly, working to keep his tone even-keel.

Monica leaned back slightly, giving him a funny look. "Yes," she gasped. "Joey knew when he donated that there was a possibility his donor profile would be accepted. Donated sperm doesn't lapse for seven years."

Chandler hadn't known that.

Monica was studying him again. "Chandler? You support me in this…. don't you?"

Chandler sighed. "Of course I do. It's just that…."

"What?"

He hesitated. Should he tell her why he had reservations about this? Could he? Technically, this wasn't any of his business. He scratched at the back of his neck. "I just don't….. happen to agree with Phoebe that it's better to accept a sperm donor you know than one you don't."

Monica smiled easily, almost reassuringly. "It's called an open donation, sweetie. It happens more often than you think. The sperm bank has statistics on it and everything. I can show you, if you want; you're a numbers guy."

True, he was, but Chandler didn't fancy going over statistics outside of work at the moment.

"I'm just saying that…. have you thought about the legal implications of all this? You're set on having a child from sperm donated by your neighbor from across the hall. It's not like there isn't any risk of the kid one day bumping into its dad – there is! In that alone, you'd be better off accepting a donor anonymously!" He racked his brain for a way to explain this that didn't reveal his true reasoning. "Like, say I was considering having a baby with you, or Rachel or Pheebs! It would feel like Joey trying to have a baby with one of his sisters!"

I can't believe you just said that! Why did you just say that?! Chandler's inner thoughts were throttling him and screaming at him. All he could do was maintain a flat affect, even as he gazed at Monica while stewing in regret. I don't look at you as one of my sisters. Not at all. I'd want to have babies with you. Please let me have babies with you. Why didn't you choose me?...

Monica folded her arms, frowning in confusion. "So you think that just because Joey and I are close, you think that our having a baby would be like if I had a baby with…. Ross?" She scrunched up her nose and made a face. "Like, it's incest?"

"Yes. I mean, no! Well, no….. not like that. I'm just saying that…. people talk about the devil you know versus the devil you don't know. There is such a thing as the devil you know way too well. If you're really intent on raising this baby alone, isn't it just going to make things more awkward with the uninvolved father living less than fifty feet away?" A pause, and then he took a deep breath as he floated out loud that thought which he hadn't dared contemplate. A part of him still didn't want to. "Unless…. Joey is going to be more involved, or…. living with you, because…."

Monica shook her head. "Joey and I aren't together, Chandler." (He wrestled to not let out a whoosh of air in relief). She giggled. "Don't you remember the lemonade incident?"

Chandler did, but not because he had been there, thank God! He had heard the story initially from Joey, when his roommate had moved in, his first night in the apartment. Then he'd heard it retold by Monica in front of all their friends later. By now, some years on, it was one of those awkward moments upon which friends looked back and laughed.

"Oh, do I! And yet, even after such an epic killing of the mood, you've agreed to have a baby with the guy."

Monica betrayed an amused grimace. "Not in the way Joey probably envisioned…."

Chandler chuckled. "Don't take it personally," he quipped. "Joey would sleep with anything feminine!" He immediately second-guessed whether he had unintentionally insulted her, except Monica was chuckling in dry agreement.

Chandler inwardly sighed. It looked like she was going to do this. He could be unhappy about it, but he also knew the onus was on him to be supportive, regardless of his feelings on the matter. Monica was probably getting enough judgmental flak from Ross as it was.

Chandler had to be supportive, because he….

"I still say you should at least meet with a legal professional about this. Hash out some details. Though you've probably already thought of that." He didn't want to sound as though he was lecturing her. "Listen, I heard about a colleague recently going to a family lawyer about some personal stuff at home. I can try to track down the name of the practice and get a recommendation, if you'd like."

"Oh, Chandler! Would you?" Monica's baby blues were shining, and she was suddenly throwing her arms around his neck again. "Please do that for me! I'll love you for it!"

Chandler felt his heart leap at the last phrase: I'll love you for it! He struggled to tamp down the somersaulting in his chest, not wanting to give himself any false hope. He merely drew back from the hug and smiled at her. "Sure thing. I'll get that lawyer's name first thing in the morning. You don't even have to use it, but it would be a good baseline for hiring the right attorney!"

Monica nodded gratefully. "…. Thank you, Chandler." She started to turn back to her apartment, then doubled back, biting her lip. "If you were really uncomfortable with this, you would tell me…. wouldn't you?"

He wanted to howl that, yes, he was uncomfortable with this! Hadn't he implied it in trying to talk her out of an open donation? Instead, Chandler shook his head. "I would," he lied. "But I'm not. It's your decision, Mon. Yours…. and Joey's, I guess." He gave her a little wave, turning to step inside his apartment. "Goodnight."

"Night, Chandler…." He heard her reply in a soft murmur before the door closed behind him.

The living area of Apartment 19 was dark. The door to Joey's room was closed; guy must be asleep. Good. Chandler didn't exactly want to talk to his buddy right now. He stalked into his own room and stripped down to nothing but his boxers, flopping onto his bed. He tried to go to sleep, but rest eluded him.

When he finally did drift off, he wasn't even aware of it.

DREAM

"You want some help with that?" Monica asked shyly, as Joey bent to heft some boxes, showing off some of his impressive figure as he did so.

"No, thanks, I got it – Ohwp! No, I don't!" He staggered back into her as he struggled to take the weight of the box.

"Whoa! You OK?" Monica asked, allowing her hands to linger on his abs from where she had braced him. Damn…. He had some muscles….

"Yeah. I stood up too fast. Got a little head rush."

"It's the heat…." Monica excused lamely, flushing. She finally dropped her hands, in favor of playing with her hair. "And – and the humidity…."

"Yeah, that's a, uh…. tough combination…." Joey agreed, grin broadening. There was an awkward pause.

"Do you…. wanna come in for some lemonade?" Monica offered, almost blurting it out.

Joey's grin turned into an intrigued smirk. "Like you wouldn't believe…." Following Monica in, he glanced about, impressed. "Wow…. This is a great place…."

"Oh…. thank you…." she stuttered. "Just…. make yourself comfortable."

"Gotcha," Joey winked.

Monica turned to bustle about in the fridge. "This place is really my grandmother's…. I got it from her when she moved to Florida. Otherwise, I could never afford a place like this…." She moved back over to the kitchen counter, her back still to her guest, not noticing how he had stripped down to nearly nothing in almost record time. "So, if the landlord ever asks…. I'm an 87-year-old woman who's afraid of her VCR! …. You thirsty?"

"You bet I am!" Joey almost growled, chipper.

"OK – here's your….. penis!" Monica yelped, turning around and almost dropping the glasses of lemonade. She couldn't help but stare. Oh…. oh, my…..

Joey glanced with a befuddled frown over at the actual, literal glasses of lemonade. "I'm guessing that's maybe for after?" he quipped.

Monica just gaped at him.

"You did say 'You wanna come in for some lemonade'….. right?" Joey stared at her probingly.

Monica turned her face away slightly from the sight of his…. trying and failing to hide her blush. "….. I did say that, didn't I?"

She quickly crossed back to the front door and made sure that it was closed and locked. When she turned around, her baby blues had darkened into black pools of desire. "How about you and I actually work for that cool drink?" Her voice was husky as she crossed the room in three strides, grabbed Joey's cock in her fist and crashed her lips onto his.

The kiss deepened and Joey frantically and eagerly bent Monica back over the couch, working to help her peel her black dress up and shuck it over her head, where she let it fall to the side of the couch with a rustle.

Excitedly, the new neighbors began to make hot, raw love…..

END OF DREAM

Chandler awoke with a start, scowling and shaken. What the actual fuck? That wasn't how the story had gone! In Joey and Monica's telling, there had been embarrassing admonishments of 'Oh my God, what the hell are you doing?!' and bouts of confusion on the part of Joey, who had apparently taken lemonade to be some sort of euphemism!

Terrifyingly, the alternate ending to his two best friends' first encounter subconsciously prodded Chandler with one little point, in light of more recent, actual events: even if Monica said she and Joey weren't together, there was no way of guaranteeing that she and Joey might not come together in a romantic sense at some point in the future for the sake of the baby. There were….. hormones and….. cravings – were cravings more than just for food? Were sex cravings a thing? The thought of losing Monica – his Monica – to Joey, out of some obligation to circumstance was too terrible to even entertain. It would be quite the bitter pill to swallow.

Chandler flopped back down into his pillow, the green monster of jealousy eating him alive.

Despite his misgivings, Chandler did bite the bullet and approach his work colleague for the name of that family lawyer. The colleague gave Chandler both the name and a glowing recommendation, which he passed on to Monica.

Several weeks later, the gang was over at the girls' apartment for breakfast, per usual. Walking in, Chandler winced when he saw Rachel hovering over the stove, sliding an omelet onto a plate. He must have been showing his emotions too clearly on his face for catching his eye, Rachel scowled at him in offense.

"I'm just serving it! I didn't cook it!"

Thank God, Chandler thought as he took his seat. Rachel could often be counted on to not even get the coffee orders right at Central Perk. He glanced to his left, then did a double take:

Joey was dressed in a suit. A blazer and pressed slacks, tie and all. It was the kind of outfit you wore to…. a wedding (a horrible image of Monica in a wedding dress, marrying Joey, flashed through his brain, and Chandler quickly wrestled to banish it). Racking his memory, Chandler thought he might have seen Joey wear a suit one other time, at Monica and Ross's grandmother's funeral. Maybe twice, if you counted Carol and Susan's wedding.

Just the same….

"I've almost never seen you dress this nice. Not even for an audition! Or for a date!" He tried to keep the snark from seeping out into his voice.

Joey shrugged through a mouthful of eggs. "What? You have to look nice in court!"

"What did ya get arrested for? Uncharacteristic grooming in the first degree?" Chandler cracked.

Joey squirmed in his seat, buttoning the top button on his suit coat. "Mon and I are meeting with that family lawyer this morning." He nodded to Chandler gratefully. "Thanks for the rec, by the way, man – she said you got it."

Monica suddenly came bustling in, in a red dress that hugged her figure in all the right places. Chandler tried hard not to stare, and even harder not to drool. "Suit coat unbuttoned when seated, Joey!" Monica admonished, clucking at him like a mother hen.

"You cooked and had time to dress for family court?" Chandler asked, impressed.

"I know how to use my minutes," Monica shrugged off, accepting a plate from Rachel and wolfing down one of the omelettes that she herself had prepared. Chandler couldn't help but study her admiringly, marveling at her.

Scarfing down her breakfast, Monica turned back to the group, though her eyes landed on Chandler, seeking his approval. "How do I look?"

"Slightly stunned," he quipped in a deadpan.

"No, I mean how do I look?"

Chandler gazed at her for several long moments. Words utterly failed him. "You look….. beautiful….."

She smiled weakly at him in appreciation, clearly nervous. Gathering her purse, she grabbed Joey's hand and dragged him out of his chair and to the door before he could go for a second omelette. "We're going to be late! Thanks for helping set this up, Chandler! Bye, everyone!"

Chandler gazed after the spot where she had been for a few beats after the door slammed. He was broken out of his reverie by a gasp of Phoebe.

"You're jealous!"

Chandler turned, disconcerted at how the masseuse was staring directly at him, as if she could peer into his soul. He ignored how her outburst was causing Rachel and Ross to send him curious looks.

"Jealous?" he tried to laugh, scoff. "Of what?"

Phoebe pursed her lips with an odd sort of omniscience but didn't press anything further.