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 THREE: AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT...

A few minutes later, Monica rushed into Central Perk and found Phoebe sitting on the couch alone.

“Hey, is anybody else around?”

“No,” Phoebe said, “Joey was just here, but he went to get his second dinner.”

Monica blinked. “His second dinner?”

“Yeah, no, well... you see, he threatened to go on a hunger strike when I wouldn't get him another cookie-- yeah, and then I reminded him that hunger strikes involve, you know, not eating anything. I think that scared him a little bit, so he went to get a pizza.”

Monica tried to absorb all that for a second, then waved it off as she sat down beside Phoebe. “Okay, forget it. Look, I brought the earrings...”

She took a jewelry box out of her pocket and showed it to Phoebe, who 'oohed' and 'ahhed' appropriately.

“Monica, they're gorgeous! She's going to love these!”

“I know!” said Monica. “Listen, tell your friend Donna I really appreciate this, and--”

“Oh, it's not Donna who wants the earrings. It's Danielle.”

Monica frowned. “I thought Danielle was the girl with the snakes who came to your birthday.”

“No, that was Donna! Donna belongs to the snake cult, Danielle is the one I met while I was a roadie for Aerosmith.”

Monica just stared for a minute. “You have got to write a book someday.”

“Oh, I know. I'm waiting for my Muse. Yeah, but she's still mad at me for selling out with that Smelly Cat jingle, so I just have to hope she forgives me someday, which she will if I'm really sincere in my art...”

“Either that, or the Great Pumpkin will show up,” Monica said.

“Oh, don't get me started!” said Phoebe. “Ooh, there was something I was supposed to tell you... did you know that Saint Lucy and Lucy from 'Peanuts' aren't the same?”

“I think I could have guessed,” said Monica. “Why were you supposed to tell me that?”

“Oh, no, you just reminded me of that. That's not what I'm supposed to tell you. You're going to have to pay better attention.”

“Um... I'm sorry?”

“Yeah, no, what I was supposed to tell you was: Okay. You should probably not be placing any, like, big food orders for your restaurant... yeah, because there isn't any restaurant. Uh-huh, yeah.”

Monica burst out laughing.

“Wow... I can see you're really broken up about it...”

“I know there's no restaurant!” Monica chuckled. “Come on, I know my husband better than that... Chandler doesn't like to borrow money and he hates taking risks! Plus-- well, just trust me, I know there's no way he'd buy something like that in the city right now.”

Phoebe looked puzzled. “Then... why are you selling the earrings?”

“Because... you know, it's our last year with just the two of us, and I know this TV will really make him happy. I don't care what he gets for me. I want to do this for him.”

“Aw, Mon, that's so moving...” said Phoebe.

“What? We're not moving!” said Monica quickly.

“You two really love each other-- I'm gonna add five more years to my bet in the divorce pool.”

“Your what?”

“Nothing,” said Phoebe. “Wait-- I just talked to Rachel on the phone, and she thought you didn't know. Why didn't you tell her?”

“Oh, that...” Monica grinned impishly. “I kinda like how flustered she gets when she thinks there's a crisis...”

“That is fun,” Phoebe agreed, and they laughed.

--

Joey was just enjoying his first whiff of the cheese on his Joey Special-- smelling the pizza was his third-favorite part of the dinner ritual, behind eating the pizza and eating leftover pizza-- when Ross walked into the pizzeria.

“Hey, man... eating alone tonight?”

Ross frowned at him. “No, actually I'm here with Chico, my invisible velociraptor pal.”

Joey winced at the bad joke. “Dude, you're no Chandler.”

“I know...” Ross went to the counter and ordered two slices of mushroom pizza, then sat down at Joey's booth. “Actually I'm just grabbing a quick bite before I meet Rachel. We're picking up Emma from my mom's.”

“Oh, hey, yeah... Man, it must be cool havin' a kid this time of year. You get to do the whole Santa thing...”

“That is pretty cool,” Ross agreed.

“I remember when I believed in Santa. Best sixteen years of my life.”

Ross blinked. “You believed in Santa 'till you were sixteen?”

“No, nineteen. I wasn't countin' the first couple years, y'know... babies don't understand deep philosophical stuff.”

“Uh... right,” said Ross. “But yeah, it is great being able to be around Emma now. I just wish I could be around Ben, too.”

“Yeah, Phoebe said you were a little bummed.” Joey frowned around a bite of pizza. “Is there anything I can do, for you or Ben? I don't like to think of my namesake unhappy...”

“Uh, he's not your namesake,” Ross said. “Not unless your name is Ben. See, that's how that works.”

“Hey, Phoebe named a kid after Chandler! It's not my fault you don't care about your friends as much as she does! So in my mind, he'll always be Joseph Ben Tribbiani-Geller-Willick-Bunch.”

“Ah. Poor kid...”

“Yeah.”

Ross swallowed a bite, then continued, “Anyway, I'll be fine. I've got plenty to do for Emma, believe me. You see, Rachel has some funny ideas about how many gifts we should be getting her...”

“Really? How many?”

“Well, I don't know exactly,” said Ross, “how many are there?”

“Ouch.”

“I just worry what we're teaching her, you know? Is this really what the holidays are about? Getting more and more stuff and... and necklaces and big TV's... oh, by the way, man, nice job on that whole restaurant mix-up. Vintage Joey.”

“Thanks,” the actor grinned. Only much later would he wonder whether that was actually a compliment.

“Are we just getting bogged down in materialism? Have we lost the true essence of hope and miracles that's supposed to define this time of year? Are these the values we want to impart to Emma? Well, Joey?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, man, I kinda spaced out there... this is good mozzarella.”

“You know what? Never mind.” Ross finished all but one crust of his pizza and stood. “I guess I was just hoping for something... I dunno. Something different. A miracle, maybe.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh.” Joey pointed at the crust. “You gonna eat that?”

“No, you can have it.” Ross put on his jacket. “Night, Joey...”

“Night. Hey, Ross?” The other man stopped. “You know what we said about Santa... well, you're Science Guy, right? Do you think if a reindeer started running downhill like, really really fast for a good long stretch, and then if he jumped really high--”

“No, Joe. It's not physically possible.”

“Damn!” said Joey, and he drowned his disappointment in his second pizza.

--

Later that night, Phoebe strummed her guitar in Central Perk as she unveiled her new holiday-themed composition:

“You come in the mail when the doorbell rings
With a postmark from afar
Just a cake full of fruit and spice and things
And those green bits, but I don't know what those are

Everybody sing!”

Before the coffee house patrons could oblige, Chandler ran in and started waving to her. Phoebe stepped away from the mike, to scattered applause. Actually it was one guy and Phoebe was pretty sure he was being sarcastic, since he'd been lobbing gingerbread men at her earlier, but Phoebe already knew her music wasn't the showy kind that got a lot of overt applause. Her stuff was more thinky

“Pheebs!” said Chandler, startling her out of a thinky moment. “Is Monica still here?”

“No, she went to get your gift. Hey, what do you think of this lyric:

My music doesn't get a lot of applause

But throwing things at me breaks all kind of laws?”

“It's great, Pheebs,” said Chandler, shaking his head. “Listen, I really need to talk to Monica and her cel phone's off. This gift thing has us running around in circles; it's crazy! This year more than ever, all we should need is each other!”

“Ooh, that's good!” said Phoebe. “You should try writing lyrics! We could collaborate! Yeah, now how are you with songs about global warming?”

“I dunno, Pheebs, I get kind of stuck after I rhyme 'climate change' with 'home on the range'...”

“Wow, okay, that's gold!” said Phoebe, taking out a notepad. “'Home... on... the...' Ooh, you know what? I think somebody already used that.”

“Really?” said Chandler, staring. “Well, I guess I'll have to fall back on my song about the dog named Bingo...”

“Yeah, good idea. But sorry, no, Monica's gone. I don't think you'll have time to catch her.”

“Dammit!” said Chandler. “How did this get so screwed up?”

“Um, maybe 'cause it's you and Monica?” Phoebe shrugged when her friend glared at her. “Well, I'm sorry, Chandler, but you two do kind of have a knack for, you know, making the simplest things really complicated.”

“That's true,” said Chandler. “Or maybe it's the fault of all our friends who can't go two hours without meddling in our business?”

“Okay, now that's just crazy talk.”

Chandler sighed. “Look, do you still have the earrings?”

Phoebe patted her pocket. “Yeah, I've got those, but Danielle is gonna be here in, like, ten minutes to pick them up.”

“The snake lady? Never mind, look... I'll buy them back from you.”

“I can't do that!” said Phoebe. “I promised Danielle, and she's had a really hard time ever since she stopped touring...”

“Well, you'll have to tell her I'm sorry, but I'm not gonna let Monica sell one of her most treasured possessions just to get me some dumb TV... with 1080i resolution and a 50 inch screen...” Chandler whimpered.

“Okay, fine. It's not like Danielle doesn't already have the jewelry Steven gave her. The earrings cost...”

“I'll pay you later,” said Chandler. “I have to find Monica...”

“Wait!” said Phoebe, as he stepped toward the door. “I'm gonna need a deposit and some ID.”

“What? Pheebs, we've known each other like 12 years...”

“Yeah, well, but how do I know you're not, like, evil-twin Chandler?”

Chandler laughed. “People in real life don't have evil twins.”

“I do!”

“Oh, yeah, that's true,” said Chandler, and he reached for his wallet.

--

On the way back to the department store, Monica ran into Joey coming out of the pizza parlor.

“Joey, it's like eleven o'clock! Are you just finishing dinner?”

“Second dinner,” Joey corrected her. Then he looked guilty. “Okay, third.”

“I remember third dinners...” said Monica wistfully. The two of them spent a moment contemplating food, until she snapped out of it: “Actually it's good that you're here. Want to come to the store with me and help me get this TV home?”

“You want me to help pick out a big TV?” said Joey, grinning. “I'm so there! You might as well ask me to pick out a supermodel!”

“Great,” said Monica, and they started walking.

Pretty soon, Joey said: “Hey, Mon, you're a chef right? D'you think if you had, like, a really good cookie recipe, and it was light, y'know, not too filling, is there any way--”

Monica sighed. “No, Joey, there's no way he could eat cookies at every house in the world in just one night.”

“Dammit!” Joey blew out a cloud of steam. “Eh, worth a shot, y'know? By the way, Mon, I'm really sorry about that whole restaurant rumor. I keep forgettin' I'm a star now; I gotta be more careful what I say. When Joey talks, people listen...”

“Uh-- yeah,” said Monica, turning aside to hide the grin. “No, Joey, it's okay. I'm sure this was gonna get screwed up some way...”

“Because it's you and Chandler,” said Joey, nodding.

“No!” said Monica. “Because it just feels like we're going about it all wrong... like we've forgotten what the holidays are supposed to mean, you know? There's supposed to be more to it than borrowing money from my brother so I can compete for gifts... although, you'll notice, I'm winning the competition.”

“'Course,” said Joey. Then, “Wow, Ross probably could've used that money, too.”

Monica frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, y'know, so he could go see Ben for Christmas. I was just talkin' to him. He didn't tell you?”

“No... he didn't say anything... He did cry a little when he gave me the loan, but I thought he was just being cheap.”

“Well, with Ross, prob'ly a little of both...”

Monica looked at Joey. Joey looked at Monica.

Monica said, “Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

Joey said, “If you're thinking you might look better in red lacey lingerie than black, then sure.”

“No!” cried Monica. She turned on her cel phone and dialed her husband's number. “Hi, honey. It's Mon. Listen, I have kind of an idea what to do about our gift situation. Can we talk? Where are you? Oh...”

Seeing her wince, Joey asked, “What? Where is he?”

“He says he's been running behind us for three blocks.” Monica turned around and looked down the street. “Oh, there he is! Chandler!”

She and Joey both waved. Joey called, “Hey, Chan, watch out for the... snowman! Ouch.”

“Are you alright?” Monica said to the phone. “The broomstick got you where? Eh, it's okay... we're adopting anyway...”

“Ouch,” said Joey again, wincing in sympathy.

They both waited for Chandler. When he arrived, huffing and puffing, Monica hugged him.

Joey said, “Great, so now that everybody's here, who wants get a pizza?”

The others frowned at him. Joey slapped his forehead.

“Right! First we do the gift thing, then we get a pizza...”

--

Emma Geller-Green gurgled happily in her car seat while, in the front of the car, her parents discussed the upcoming holiday.

“I dunno, Rach,” Ross was saying. “Do you think we need to get her the dollhouse and the tricycle? She can't even ride it yet...”

“Look,” said Rachel, “I'm sorry, but everybody's got their holiday traditions, and for the Green girls, being incredibly spoiled is a big one. I'm sorry, that's just how it is...”

Ross sighed. “Okay... but, I mean... what if she ends up like your sisters?”

“I don't think there's much chance of that,” Rachel scoffed. “They're both such incredible daddy's girls...”

Ross frowned at her. “What, you don't think Emma is daddy's girl?”

“I just think she favors her mother. C'mon, Ross, she can't even say your name yet.”

“She can't say any names!”

“Yeah, right, okay,” said Rachel, conceding the point. Under her breath, she murmured, “I'll bet she says mine first...”

Ross would have argue, but fortunately at that moment they arrived at his building. Ross unpacked the car, staggering under the weight of about a dozen packages. Rachel took Emma and a scarf. This arrangement lasted until they got to the apartment, and Ross couldn't find the key.

“Honestly, Ross,” Rachel said as she tried to balance the presents and he patted down his pockets. “You've got to keep better track of these things...”

“Yeah, that's the problem here,” he gasped from underneath the packages.

Finally, they got inside. The apartment was all darkened, illuminated only by the lights on a small Christmas tree. And underneath the tree...

“Oh, wow,” Rachel breathed.

Ross, who still couldn't see past the presents, snapped, “What? Did we forget something? Emma's pony? Her deed to a diamond mine? Her Microsoft stock? What?”

“No, Ross... look...”

Ross put down the presents and gasped. Somebody had decorated the whole living room like a winter wonderland, with sparkling ornaments and bows everywhere. Underneath the tree was an envelope tied with a red ribbon. While Rachel hugged Emma, Ross opened the envelope. The card inside was in Monica's handwriting:

'Dear Ross: In all the fuss about gifts, Chandler and I realized the greatest gift was the family we're about to start, and the friends we love so much. That's what it's really all about, and nobody should be apart from that. So we chipped in with Joey and Phoebe and bought these tickets to...” Ross looked up in surprise. “'Tickets to California for you and Rachel and Emma. The hotel is all paid for, just go and have a good time and Merry Christmas...”

“Aw...” said Rachel, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“P.S.,” Ross read, “'Try to beat this gift next year, loser!”

He and Rachel both laughed. Rachel joined Ross beside the tree and wrapped an arm around him.

“You'll come, right?” Ross whispered.

“Well... I guess I can't stand in the way of a holiday miracle...”

They stood there holding Emma, watching the tree, and suddenly Ross looked away. He seemed moved-- even upset.

“Aw, honey,” said Rachel, “are you tearing up a little bit, there?”

“No-- well, kind of,” said Ross. “I just realized: I'm not going to see that loan money again, am I?”

“Ross, let it go.”

“Okay,” he said, “but technically speaking.”

Rachel wanted to hit him. She hugged him instead. It was shaping up to be a pretty good Christmas.

THE END