Chandler looked up from his magazine. "What's up, Pheebs?"
Phoebe lifted her hands from her purse. "I brought my charger, but I forgot my cell."
Chandler smiled and opened a drawer so close to him he didn't even have to stand. "Here. Use mine."
"Oh. 'Kay, thanks." Phoebe took the phone and dialed her husband's number.
The familiar and unusually caustic voice came on, "Chandler, I told you never to call me again. I thought you were smart enough to know what that meant."
"Mike, it's Phoebe."
In the delay that followed, Chandler forced an awkward smile. "Oh, you called Mike."
Phoebe stared at Chandler as she listened to Mike's breathing. "What's going on with you?" she asked.
"Doesn't matter," Mike said curtly.
"Of course it matters! You're my husband, he's my eldest friend...I thought you were cool with one another."
Mike hesitated. "Sorry," he finally said, and then there was only the buzz of the dial tone.
"Mike?" Phoebe asked, and eventually disconnected. "He hung up on me!"
"How rude!" Chandler said insincerely.
Phoebe just stared at him.
"What? It's one of the nicer things he's done to you." Chandler looked up from his magazine, realizing too late his error.
"There's worse?" Phoebe demanded. "Like what?"
He looked at her, wishing he could take it all back. "Knocking up another woman."
"WHAT!" Phoebe yelled, making him visibly flinch. "When?"
"Uh, last...last month." Chandler squirmed.
Phoebe went very still, looking judgmentally at him. When she spoke, her only words were, "He knocked up another woman and he's telling you off? I'm confused."
Chandler grimaced, throwing his magazine onto the near table. "Well, I mighta...gotten a little lippy with him."
Phoebe sagged. "He kissed you too?" she asked desperately.
"Wha-No! No, God, no. That just means I might've..."
Phoebe looked expectantly at him. He wasn't leaving this room without explaining himself.
"You know, I might've said that if he hurt you, I'd have his head on my wall."
Despite all that she had heard, and was still trying to process, Phoebe failed to suppress a giggle. "You threatened him?"
"Yeah. What's so funny about that?"
"I just can't imagine you as a tough guy!" Phoebe stood, oblivious to Chandler's hurt. "Well, screw Mike. I'm gonna go find Joey and see how Mike likes to be cheated on."
"Uh, what?"
"I'm gonna go sleep with Joey. And then I'm going to dump Mike's ass. See ya!" Phoebe let herself out and pulled the door shut.
Chandler sat in confusion for a moment. "I'm tough," he told himself. "I stood up to bullies...I chased down a bus...For God's sake, I played football." He stood and walked into the bathroom, looking at his reflection. "Sure I'm tough."
But all he saw was a boring office guy. The office guy who once realized that he had allowed his twins to eat all the candy in the house because he had been too busy filing papers to know what he was giving them permission for.
With a sinking feeling, he realized that the last brave thing he had done was change two babies' diapers, about five times a day, every day. Meanwhile Monica was skirting around him wearing gloves, cleaning up every mess the moment it was made.
And now his kids were all grown up, and he was stuck behind the same desk, filing papers. And suddenly he knew exactly why the concept of him being threatening could make an aging woman giggle.
-0-0-0-0-
Phoebe rang the bell with a rather steady finger. Rachel answered, looking at Phoebe in obvious surprise. "Oh, hi. I didn't think I'd be seeing you tonight."
"I'm not here to see you. I'm here to see Joey."
Rachel's disappointment was obvious as she turned and quietly went inside. Seconds later Joey walked out of the room into which Rachel had gone. He approached Phoebe. "Hey, what's up?"
Phoebe gazed at him. "Will you go on a date with me?"
"What? What about Mike?"
Phoebe took a slow breath. "Mike cheated on me. Once we get back to New York I'm filing for divorce."
"Oh, Pheebs. God, I'm sorry."
"So, could we go out for awhile?"
"Absolutely. Let me just get my stuff."
As he walked back inside, Phoebe turned and wandered a few paces down the walk. Holding herself she stared at the elms across the street. Suddenly Joey was there, a warm gentle hand on her shoulder, and he guided her to the Gellar-Green Camaro. After Joey had shut the passenger door for her, she looked out the window and saw Rachel stepping inside and closing the door.
Did she really want to divorce Mike? Maybe she could stay married to him, and if she got to die before him she could leave him a nasty note. "For Mike, my husband. I knew all this time you knocked up a different woman. Remember me with regret. Not Truly Yours, Phoebe."
Joey got into the driver's seat, jarring her from her unpleasant thoughts. For the briefest moment, his hand covered hers before they rode into the night.