Chapter 1: Line of Succession

Monica Geller always did her best thinking when she was cleaning.

The act of cleaning her apartment, or really any one of her other domains, such as her workstation at the restaurant, had an almost mindless quality to it that allowed her thoughts to wander elsewhere even as she was still being physically productive. There was a rhythm to what she physically did, even as mentally there was no rhythm to be had. A symphony of motion to her tasks (she had heard the phrase from Chandler once – he'd been quoting something that had to do with rowing), whereas there was discordance to her thoughts. It was a balance, a push and pull, a complement.

She glanced back to where her husband was dutifully helping her rearrange where he could. She and Chandler were quite the complement to each other, she marveled all over again. Even after more than a year of marriage, he was always careful in trying to return everything to a place exactly to her liking – not because he was afraid she would snap at him, but rather that he was unconfident that he could replicate where everything should go, while knowing that even if he didn't know where everything should go, Monica would.

She shook her head with a small smile, turning back to her task at hand. The smile quickly disappeared from her face as she knelt to slice open the taped up box carrying her and Chandler's broken china plates from their wedding. While she mourned the loss of such finery, she wasn't really angry with Chandler. If she was mad at anyone at the moment, it was Rachel's cow of a sister, Amy.

Never mind that Rachel seemed to have made up with her sister by the end of the Thanksgiving meal. The tension from the earlier catfight between the Greens still hung thick in the air, leaving an awkward silence in its wake, one for Chandler and Monica to deal with after all of their guests had left. A tension that was up to the married couple to dissipate, even though neither of them had really been involved in the disagreement, and certainly not a disagreement pitting husband and wife against each other.

Monica finally got the taped box open and began to dispose of the china shards inside. She set aside her grief, finding it silly – after all, they were just things…. Special thing with value, perhaps, but even so... She set this grief aside in favor of finding anew her inner joy at the pleasures of housekeeping. Cleaning was like….

Touching the divine. There it was. The rest of that rowing quote Chandler had mentioned to her, apparently from a book he'd read. Cleaning, especially when you really got into a groove, was like touching the divine.

Set back into her mindless tasks, Monica allowed her thoughts to drift back to the kerfuffle between the Green sisters once more. Amy had been totally out of line with her comment about Emma – absolutely. And also, in so saying, the bitch had labeled herself a hypocrite. She apparently felt entitled to raise her niece as a godparent even though Amy hadn't bothered to visit the baby in the hospital, and then had the audacity to declare that the little infant wasn't even that cute. Where did she get off?

Monica finished dumping the last of the china shards into the garbage and now started to take apart and flatten the now-empty cardboard box.

One good thing had come out of the bizarre exchange with Amy: Rachel had stood up for herself in a way that had been a joy to see, from Monica's perspective. Not that Rachel couldn't be assertive, but this - it had to have come from a place of maternal instinct. Monica wished she could experience something like that. That maternal instinct.

More important, however, was that not only had Rachel defended Emma, she had expressed and then defended her choice for godparents in naming Monica and Chandler. Entrusting them with her child if, Heaven forbid, something ever happened to Ross and her. Monica had been really touched, and Chandler, even more so.

Of course, then Ross had had to ruin it by gaming out every possible line of succession scenario like it was some sort of flowchart. Or a fanfiction episode of The West Wing. There was taking necessary precautions, and then there was overthinking it. Considering who would get the baby in what circumstances – circumstances so apocalyptic, they were unlikely to ever play out anyway – only worked up to a certain point. At some point, discussions of death just left one feeling depressed and morbid and with a bad headache. More and more, the appointment of godparents was being seen as more of a symbolic gesture. Monica wasn't even sure how wise it was that she and Chandler, as the married aunt and uncle to the baby, were being tapped for the honor. Because what if Ross and Rachel died and left them with the baby, only for something catastrophic to happen to her and Chandler?

She huffed and had to restrain herself from taking her frustration out on the dishes she was now scrubbing. Great. Now she was thinking in apocalyptic scenarios. Still, if something did happen to Ross and Rachel, and then something happened to Chandler and her, who would get the baby? Joey or Phoebe, probably – if it were in Monica's powers to decide, she would sooner entrust Emma to Joey and Phoebe than she would to Amy Green.

No, wait: in that scenario, her order of preferred guardian would go: Phoebe, Joey, her father, her mother and only then, after all other options had been exhausted, Amy. And when Judy Geller outranked someone in turns of fitness for guardianship, whomever that someone was below her had to be very, very bad. Shit, to rank Joey in second place behind Phoebe was kind of a shocker, and Monica loved Joey like he was another brother. But God bless him, in a Defcon 5 world, Joey did not have the skillset to look after a child.

"…. You're quiet."

Monica turned back with a soft hum at her husband's voice, finding him studying her. "Something's bothering you, Mon."

"Oh, it's the whole thing with Amy," she waved away, continuing to wash dishes. "She just seems so deluded. I mean, does she really think Rachel would turn to her first for guardianship? Over me? Over you? From how little Rache has talked about her, I had almost forgotten she had another sister!"

Chandler nodded thoughtfully. "Don't worry yourself over it. Honestly, I'm surprised you don't have more godchildren. Anyone and their brother would be crazy not to entrust their kid with you!"

Monica glanced back at him with a smirk of amusement. "So I'm guardian to the children of total strangers now?"

Chandler chuckled and drew up behind her at the sink, resting his hands on her hips and letting her lean back against him. He dropped a kiss to her neck. "I'm just saying…. you're a born mother. It makes me so excited to someday see you with our own kid. Heck, we're grown adults, and you kind of mother the rest of us!" At her bemused glance at him, he amended. "…. in the best way. You're always feeding Joey, you keep the peace between Rachel and Phoebe when needed…." His voice trailed off before he could get lost in the rhetorical weeds. "…. Who wouldn't want you, as a godmother for a child? How could Rachel have chosen anyone else but you for godmother of Emma? Besides, you're godmother for Ben, aren't you?"

Monica nodded, smiling at the thought of their nephew.

"Remind me: was there ever a ceremony to make that official, for you with Ben? You know – a baptism?"

Monica smiled and rolled her eyes. "We don't have baptisms in synagogue, Chandler." She paused. "Well, we have something similar, but we don't call it a baptism. It's called a tivlah."

"A tit-what?" Chandler blinked.

She giggled. "Tivlah. Tiv. It basically means an act of immersion in naturally sourced holy water."

"…. When is holy water naturally sourced?"

She shook her head. "You're missing the point. Tivlah basically inducts a newborn child into the faith. It's one of the purification rites in Halakha – Jewish law and tradition," she translated before her husband could ask what that meant. "Ross and I both experienced tivlah when we were born." She turned back to washing dishes. "Anyway, Ben's never experienced that, as far as I know. If there ever were a decision to raise him in faith, it would probably be up to Carol and Susan."

"Yeah….. somehow, I can't envision two lesbians wanting to subject their child to church or any other place that claims God's law forbids two hot women from having sex," Chandler deadpanned. "But even if that weren't the case, why doesn't Ross have a say? He's the father. He seems to want Ben to know his heritage…." He tried and failed to hold back a guffaw. "Remember that Hanukkah story he was trying to tell Ben, the Christmas before we got married? And all while dressed in that ridiculous armadillo costume!"

Monica snorted and threw up her hands. "I don't know where he got that from!"

"What, there aren't any armadillos mentioned in the Torah?"

"No…." she turned back to him with a raised eyebrow, half-heartedly chiding. "But I'm pretty sure the Torah does mention something about broken plates!" Chandler flushed, embarrassed. Monica took pity on him by pulling him into a kiss.

"Well…. maybe Emma will one day have a tivlah. Maybe…." he ducked his head shyly. "…. One day a child of ours will have a tivlah."

"Really?" Monica drew back, a pleasantly surprised smile coming across her lips. "I didn't think religion was all that important to you."

"It's not. But I like hearing you talk about your traditions, how you grew up." Chandler grinned. "I wish you did it more. Here I am, married to my best friend, and I'm still learning something new about you every day! You're just… you're so amazing, Monica."

She blushed. "Ross has always been more into the customs than I am…." She shrugged. "Giving Emma a tivlah would be nice, but it's the legal documents that count for godparenthood. Ross and Rachel will have to revise their wills, and that's going to be challenging, especially since they're not married…."

"Ross and Rache will take care of it," Chandler grinned, bending and kissing his wife chastely. "And you are going to be the most amazing godmother."

Monica beamed back. "You'll be a fantastic godfather."

Something in Chandler's smile shifted. "Only because I'll have you by my side. Didn't you hear Ross tonight?..."

"Stop," Monica pursed her lips, shaking her head. Taking her husband's face in her hands, she kissed him again, deeper this time. "If, in some incredible scenario, something happened to Ross and Rachel and me, I know they would want you to take care of their daughter. I would trust you to raise our niece."

Chandler beamed weakly, reassured. "I love you…." Husband and wife embraced and shared a long kiss once more. When they broke apart, Chandler sounded emotional as he spoke next. "Promise me…. that you will never leave me…. That we will grow old together and be together, forever, for the rest of our lives!" It overwhelmed him, how much he loved his wife. How much he needed her. The amount of comfort she gave him.

Monica smiled softly, her voice gentle and crooning. "I promise…."