FRIENDS
The One with All the Holiday Conversations

by RJB

DISCLAIMER: Friends and all characters belong to Warner Brothers and Bright/Kauffman/Crane productions. This is non-profit fan fiction; no money is involved and no infringement is intended.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story takes place during the 10th and final season of “Friends,” between “The One with the Late Thanksgiving” and “The One with the Birth Mother.”

--

CHAPTER ONE: THE GIFTS

New York City looked like something out of a postcard: Softly falling snow, carolers roaming the streets, the city decked out in lights. Chandler Bing would have thought it an amazing, magical night to be alive... if he wasn't busy freaking out. Since he was freaking out, the city could have been full of softly falling hailstones and zombies roaming the streets, and he wouldn't have noticed.

As they walked toward Central Perk together, Joey Tribbiani sensed something was wrong with his friend. He chalked this up to the unerring intuition and rapport with people instilled in him as an actor, and also the fact that Chandler had mentioned it about seventeen times since they left their building.

“I'm going crazy. I'm literally standing here, I'm going crazy,” said Chandler. “I have no idea what to get Monica for Christmas.”

“Dude, relax. You guys have been together for five years now. That means you've done this...” Joey stopped to do some quick math. “...like half a dozen times before. You always get her somethin' good.”

“That's not really true,” said Chandler. “One year I got her a candle-making kit.”

Joey frowned. “A candle-making kit?”

“Well, I was thinking chef... cooking... fire... look, I don't know, I get crazy this time of year! Plus this is hopefully the last year with just us before we get the baby, and I just want it to be really special, you know? So come on, please, help me think of something!”

“Okay, okay...” Joey thought hard, which wasn't easy since he'd memorized a lot of lines earlier and there was only so much thinking he liked to do in a given day. Finally he said: “Have you thought about lingerie?”

“Eh, some when we get a new catalog, but probably not as much as you ha--” Chandler blinked. “You meant for Monica. I dunno, I'm a little leery of lingerie as a Christmas gift.”

“Okay, so it's not like a traditional holiday thing--”

“Actually, it's a little too much of a traditional holiday thing in the Bing household.” Chandler assumed a far-off look. “Though to be really traditional, Monica would have to give it to me and I'd have to model it for the houseboy.”

The mental image Joey got reminded him exactly why he didn't like thinking. He doggedly stuck to the subject: “But c'mon, wouldn't Monica look great in a lacy, black--”

“Don't finish that sentence,” Chandler said, glaring at his friend. “In fact, from now on when you picture Monica, I'd prefer she was wearing something flannel.”

“Dude, it was her in the lace or you. I call self-defense.”

Chander considered that. “Yeah, fair enough. But c'mon, seriously: Let's say I gave Monica her own restaurant for Christmas. How do you think she'd react?”

“Are you kiddin' me?” said Joey. “I think she'd go nuts!”

“Okay, now let's say I'd have to save up for another twenty years for that. How can I get that same reaction in two weeks?”

Joey was afraid that question meant he'd have to do more math, but right then they arrived at Central Perk and he didn't have to think for the rest of the evening. He did stop to get an attractive woman's phone number, but fortunately he'd reached the point where he could do that just on reflex.

--

Later that night, Joey returned to his apartment to find his roommate, Rachel Green, just getting home from the office. Rachel tossed her purse on the counter and collapsed into her chair, exhausted.

“Long day?” Joey asked sympathetically.

“Argh, it was the worst! I just don't know how the work piles up like that! It's like, you take one or two long lunches-- or three or four or five-- and suddenly you're swamped!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Joey frowned. “Well, actually I don't, but my character, Dr. Drake Remoray, he's always spending long nights at the hospital. So you know, it's kind of the same.”

“It's really not,” said Rachel, who looked about ready to fall asleep in her chair.

“Aw, sure it is! In fact, next week I dramatically burn out and then go up to the mountains for a vacation, and that's where I'm seduced by my nurse's evil twin.”

“Ooh, Maya has an evil twin?” said Rachel, perking up. Soap opera gossip was one of the few forces powerful enough to penetrate her sleepy haze.

“Well, yeah, y'know, she's been on the show for like five years now and she hasn't had one yet. The actress was startin' to complain...”

“I wish I had an evil twin,” Rachel yawned. “Then I could send her to the office and I could stay here all day, eating cookie dough right out of the package...”

Joey felt a surge of pride. Before she'd moved in with him, Monica used to have Rachel convinced that eating raw dough was sloppy or rude or potentially fatal or whatever. It was nice to know he'd taught her something in their time together.

Thinking about Monica reminded Joey of something. “Hey, Rach, what d'you think about lingerie as a gift?”

Rachel quirked one eye open. “Well, honey, I gotta be honest, I don't think you really have the figure for it...”

“No, not for me!” said Joey. “Chandler's goin' crazy trying to get her something for Christmas. And I said Monica would look great in a lacy, black...”

“Joey!” said Rachel. “She's married to your best friend!”

Thinking fast, Joey decided to try the same line that had worked on Chandler. “Hey, it was either her in the lace or you-- ooh.” His eyes lit up. “How you doin'?”

“Joey! That's it, I'm going to bed!” Rachel made a weak attempt to rise from her chair, but didn't seem to have even that much energy. “If you could just like pick me up and carry me in there...?”

“Hey, that's even better than the line usually works...”

“Ack! I'm up!” said Rachel, and she hopped out of the chair. She must have done it so fast she got dizzy-- Joey knew the feeling well-- because she stayed in one place for a minute, holding her head. “Y'know, I'm supposed to go shopping with Monica tomorrow. I could hint around a little bit, see if I can find out what she wants.”

“That's be great, Rach!” said Joey. “I bet Chandler would really appreciate it. He's so stuck, he was talking about gettin' her a restaurant...”

“Mmm,” said Rachel, barely acknowledging him as she trudged sleepily into her room.

Several minutes later, after Joey had already gone to bed, Rachel opened her door to complete the longest double-take in the history of human civilization:

“A restaurant?”

--

Across the hall, Chandler was greeting his own wife, who'd had the night off and had spent the evening immersed in a special project.

“Hi, honey, I'm back from a night of wanton carousing.”

Monica greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. “Uh-huh, and how'd that work out for you?”

“Well, you know, the usual. Joey got a phone number. I got a cinnamon roll. I remembered why I used to have a huge inferiority complex before you.”

“Don't you still have a huge inferiority complex?” Monica asked.

“Yes, but now it's only for things where I actually am inferior.” Chandler glanced over at the living room, where Monica had been working. “Did you get a lot done?”

“You bet I did! By the time the baby gets here, there won't be a single bit of correspondence from the past three years that won't be categorized, alphabetized, and properly filed.”

Chandler frowned. “That's good, because you know, they say disorganization is one of the biggest problems faced by... newborns...”

“Oh, come on!” said Monica, in her Over-Enthusiastic Voice. “We're going to be able to show all these things to the baby someday... stuff from when we were dating and getting married and from the adoption process. It's gonna be really great-- plus, I got to use my label-maker!”

“Ah, the holidays...” said Chandler. “Oh, honey, speaking of holidays, I was wondering if you'd gotten my Christmas gift yet?”

“Chandler! I can't tell you that!” Monica broke into a huge grin.”But if I could, you would be so excited! It makes last year's gift look sick!”

Chandler sighed. “Honey, we've been over this. As cute and occasionally terrifying as your competitive streak is, you don't have to be constantly topping yourself with better Christmas gifts every year. Just doing it on my birthday is fine...”

“No, I know, but really, I think you're going to love this. I put a lot of thought into getting you the perfect gift.”

“The... perfect gift?” Chandler said uncomfortably. “You're sure it's not just, like, a pretty good gift or a halfway decent gift or...”

“Aw, honey,” said Monica, touching his arm, “you don't need to get me a huge gift just because I got you a huge gift. I have so many things to be happy about... you and the baby and my friends... so really all I need is to know you love me and BWAH--!” She stopped and covered her mouth. “I'm sorry, I'll get through it with a straight face this time, I promise...”

“That's alright,” said Chandler. “It so happens I've got a couple of great ideas, a few things in the works. I think you're going to be really pleased with your gift this year; you might even love it as much as I love you.”

“Chandler...” Monica hugged him. “That's so sweet, I'm gonna pretend you're not even full of it.”

“That's all I ask.”

“Okay,” she said as they separated, “So, do you want to see my organizational method?”

Chandler frowned. “Will it lead directly to sex?”

“If I get worked up enough.”

“Well, then let's break out the fancy font on that label-maker!” said Chandler. He followed her into the living room.

--

The next morning at Central Perk, Rachel ran into Phoebe Buffay while waiting for Monica. That was kind of bad, because Rachel already felt confused and Phoebe didn't have a track record of making things better in that department.

“Morning, Pheebs,” she said.

“Good morning. Ooh, happy Esperanto Literature Day!”

Rachel frowned at her. “Happy what?”

“Yeah, no, everybody makes a big deal about the holidays and being inclusive, but they only talk about the big holidays like Christmas and Hanukkah. I think the little holidays must feel left out, so this year I'm making a special effort to include them. I've got this one, Kenyan Independence Day, and... oh, yeah, the feast of Saint Lucy.” Phoebe frowned. “That one disappointed me, because I thought it would have something to do with that girl from Charlie Brown, but it doesn't.”

“Okay, good luck with that,” said Rachel. She sat down with her cup of coffee and her growing headache. “Hey, Pheebs, did Chandler tell you what he's getting Monica for Christmas?”

“No,” said Phoebe. “I don't think he's bought it yet. Ooh! He should get her some Esperanto literature!”

Rachel wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I don't think that's really the way he's planning to go...”

“Okay, then what is he gonna get her?”

“I'm not sure.” Rachel sipped her coffee, hoping caffeine would clear her mind. “I had a weird talk with Joey last night, and he said something about getting her a restaurant...”

Phoebe performed a double-take of her own. “A restaurant?”

“Yeah... I dunno, though, I was really tired, and I must have misheard him... I mean, that doesn't make any sense, right? How could Chandler afford to buy Monica a restaurant?”

“I dunno,” said Phoebe. Then she frowned. “Ooh, guess who I ran into today?”

“Aw, Pheebs, this isn't gonna be one of those things where I guess for half an hour, and the answer turns out to be 'the ghost of Elvis,' is it?”

“You wish!” Phoebe snorted. “No, c'mon, really, guess. We'll play twenty questions.”

Rachel sighed. “Okay... is it somebody I know?”

“Yes.”

“Someone I've seen recently?”

“No.”

“Is it, like, an old friend?”

“Yes.”

“Ooh!” said Rachel. “Is it that girl Melissa from my sorority?”

“No.”

“Okay, is it, ummm... Mark?”

“No.”

“Is it... I dunno... Barry or Mindy?”

“No,” said Phoebe, shaking her head.

“Huh... an old friend, but it's not Melissa, it's not Mark...” Rachel frowned. “Wait, Pheebs, is this an old friend of mine?”

“No!” said Phoebe triumphantly. “Ooh, and you wasted three questions. I bet somebody's wishing she'd been a bit more specific.”

“Argh! Will you just tell me?”

“Okay, okay,” said Phoebe, rolling her eyes. “That's why I'm still the master at this game...”

“Pheebs, who did you run into?”

“Oh, yeah. I ran into Pete.”

Rachel blinked. “Pete? You mean Pete Becker, that really rich guy Monica used to date?”

“Uh-huh,” said Phoebe. “The gift thing reminded me, 'cause he wanted to talk to Chandler.”

“What, Chandler? Not Monica?”

“That's what he said.”

“Huh.” Rachel took another sip of coffee. “Wait, Pheebs, don't you think it's just a bit of a coincidence, Pete showing up looking for Chandler today?”

“Maybe,” said Phoebe. She looked cagey. “I'll bet he wants to invite him to an Esperanto Literature party!”

“No... honey... I don't think that's right...”

“I'll say it's not right!” said Phoebe. “He didn't even invite the rest of us!”

“Argh! No! I mean, Chandler's gonna borrow the money for a restaurant from Pete!”

“Ooh! Or that!” said Phoebe, and Rachel sighed.

--

Meanwhile, across the street from Monica's building, her brother Ross was getting ready for work when Monica charged in, furious.

“You're not gonna believe this!”

“Wait-- let me guess-- They showed that Maxwell House holiday commercial, and this time Peter doesn't come home for Christmas?” Seeing his sister's glare, Ross shrugged. “Okay, so I'm no Chandler. What's the problem?”

“You know that super-great gift I got for Chandler? The huge digital TV he's wanted, like, forever?”

“Ooh, yeah. I'm really looking forward to watching the Discovery Chan-- I mean, the big game on that baby!”

Ross started tying his tie, but apparently he didn't tie it straight enough for his sister's obsessive-compulsive tendencies, because she stalked over to him and re-tied it while she fumed:

“Well, I just got an e-mail from the company and guess what? It's been recalled! Apparently it was made from sub-standard parts and, I don't know, burned down a few houses or something! Man! Why does everything happen to me?”

“Okay, Mon-- first of all, you're choking me a little--” Ross pulled away and finished with the tie himself. “Second, you got him a Kirachi TV? Those have a terrible reputation! I read all about them in Techno-- I mean, in Field and Stream!”

“Aw, Ross, give it up. I'm the last person on Earth you're ever going to convince you're cool-- and I've got to say, you've got an awful lot of other people to work on first.”

“Okay, fine!” said Ross, “but still, why would you get the bargain-basement brand? You know that's a bad idea!”

“Well... we're still recovering from Chandler being out of work last year, and now we had to get so much stuff for the baby... it was the only kind I could afford!”

“Okay,” said Ross as he put on his jacket, “so you'll send the TV back, you'll get the refund, you'll buy him a smaller TV. The Lions and Bears will look almost as good... although I'm not as sure about the football teams...”

“No, I can't!” said Monica, sulking. “He's been hinting for the big one! I can't just get him a lesser gift... on purpose! It would be like losing-- no, not even losing! Forfeiting!”

She said 'forfeit' as though it was the most evil word in her vocabulary, and Ross groaned.

“Oh, I see, this is another competitive thing. I forgot how you always tried to outdo my gifts for Mom and Dad when we were kids...”

Monica snorted. “Please! I was just trying to compensate back then! Remember the year I got them a record player and you gave them an ashtray made out of a brick? Which one made them burst into tears?”

“Hey, mine was hand-made!” Ross protested.

“Look, Ross, I'm just gonna have to find the money for a better TV. That's why I was sort of wondering...”

Her brother was already halfway to the door, but he stopped and sighed. “Okay, fine... how much do you need, keeping in mind I'm a father of two who has to buy for both Christmas and Hanukkah?”

“I don't know exactly,” said Monica in a sheepish voice. “How much is it worth to you not to see your little sister and niece or nephew killed by an exploding television?”

“Oh, you're good,” said Ross, and he reached for his checkbook.

CONTINUED IN CHAPTER TWO