"Spent the night, didja?"
"Uh...a little."
"So your date went okay, then?" Chandler asked.
"Oh, yeah," she assured him. "We went to the casino and I tripled my money, went to the Eiffel tower, shared a midnight boat ride and ate the most expensive food for free. And then we went up to the highest floor of this place and slept together." She smiled proudly as he squirmed.
"Okay, lovely," he said awkwardly.
"It was! I'm seeing him again tonight. What're you doing? Are you going back to Monica soon? I mean, it's weird, you two not being together."
"Nah, it's alright. She gets me; she knows I want to soak this in before I have to go back to my...boring office job." He grimaced.
"You know, Chandler, you don't have to go back."
"Course I do!"
"No, listen to me, alright? You can retire. I see those baggy eyes. And you can wear a hat all you want, but your gray eyebrows aren't fooling anyone, okay? You would have to, like...I don't know, dye your eyebrows. Ooh! Dye-brows!"
He tried to follow her train of thought.
"So, okay, you're not going to be with Monica."
"Nah, we've been together every night since we got married. I think we could maybe even benefit from this."
"So you're just going to spend the entire trip by yourself?"
"Not the entire trip. She's my soulmate, always will be. And anyway, tonight I'm seeing Alison again."
Phoebe looked at him askance. "Wait, what?"
"Yeah, it's crazy, I know, but I ended up having a great time!"
"No, you...you s-swore with your fingers!" she sputtered furiously.
"Phoebe, chill. Alright? There's a wedding ring on her finger, too."
She tilted her head. "Really?"
"Yeah! She has two girls and a boy, a husband, a dog, a nice house...the white picket fence kind I wanted Monica to have." His voice was losing its friendly warmth. "She gets to live in Paris, and I'm stuck back in NYC behind a desk with my boss's gum on it..." And then his voice was completely bitter, "I hate that woman."
"Why? Look how good you have it. You have a wife, and children, a roof over your head. Why should you envy somebody else?"
"I thought that if I worked hard and did my best, I could give Monica what she deserves."
"She has what she deserves! She has the man she loves, and she had the children she used to want so much. Do you know why I finally got that laser tattoo?"
"Honestly, I just thought you'd lost your marbles and considered your body to be a canvas."
"I got it to cover a scar."
Chandler blinked. "I didn't know you had a scar."
"A big one. I got it when I was stealing clothes from the donation bin. Somebody saw me and threw a beer bottle at me. Chandler, that is what the streets are like. You try to provide for yourself, you try to find anything you can use to make your life better, and you pay dearly. You have no idea how freaking lucky you are."
He absorbed the new information.
"Promise me again you love her."
He looked up at her. "What?"
"Promise me you won't have an affair."
Chandler tried to smile. "Pinky swear."
-0-0-0-0-
Ben was putting his laptop into a box when Ross knocked on the door. "Hey, uh, we're ordering a pizza."
Instead of answering, Ben kept packing, hardly sparing his father a glance.
"We're doing vegetarian 'cuz Phoebe's coming over."
Still no response.
"Uh, by any chance, have you seen your aunt Monica? I don't think I've seen her since last night."
"Maybe she got lost looking for the toilet," came Emma's disembodied voice. Ross finally found her sitting in the living chair in the corner, blending right in with the black leather. "Shares your genes, right?"
"Don't talk back to me. Young lady," Ross said, unconvincingly. Emma just rolled her eyes.
He turned back to his son. "So, you about all packed up?"
" 'Bout." Ben scrawled his name onto the box and picked it up. With quick, sure steps he was gone, leaving Ross alone with the dragon.
Turning to face Emma he saw the dragon leaning close to a mirror, examining her tongue piercing. "Whoa, hey. When did you get a tongue piercing?"
Emma's eyes briefly met his in the mirror. "About the time I got my tattoo."
"You have a tattoo?"
Emma leaned forward and slid her boots on over her feet, clad in tight black leggings.
"Where are you going? We're doing pizza."
"I'm having dinner with Jesse tonight. I told you that yesterday."
"Uh, no, no. Yesterday you told me you were going to a concert with Pete and Dylan."
Emma pulled a winter toque on. Surprisingly it went well with her outfit. "Yeah. Next week."
"How many boys do you know?" Ross demanded.
She shrugged. "People like me, Ross. I take after Mom."
"Don't call me Ross! We've been over that. You're not adopted."
"I prefer to keep an open mind." She grabbed her keys and was gone, leaving Ross to stand in his son's bedroom feeling more lost than ever. Sighing, he dug out his cell phone and dialed his sister's familiar number. "Monica," he finally said. "It's Ross. Um...Sorry to keep leaving messages, but I'm getting worried. Call me back."
He hung up and stared at the phone awhile before leaving the room, turning off the light.