Elegant Sufficiency
Exploring the options after events in Barbados. Mainly revolves around Rachel, Joey, and Ross, but hopefully with the other characters as well later on. Just for a bit of background, this story begins when everyone has returned home from Barbados, so events will be explained in later chapters (which, by the way, I haven't written yet nor planned out, so reviews and criticisms as well as plot suggestions are very welcome). This first chapter is mainly setting the scene. And also, the title probably won't make sense until later.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Friends' or any of the characters. This story is all in good pure fun.
.........
Chapter One: Reluctance
Rachel sighed as she began to unpack her suitcase, pausing briefly as she ran her hand over the soft material of skirts and blouses, smoothing out their creases before choosing either closet or hamper. J. Crew capri khakis, hamper. BCBG blouse, closet. Rachel smiled, thinking Monica would be proud of the fact that for probably the first time, she was actually unpacking her suitcase, instead of living out of it for a week until everything was gone. She could almost feel Mon's congratulatory hug.
She was alone for the first time in a few days, some of the most confusing and life-altering and blissful days of her life, and she was fully prepared to sort out her rumpled thoughts. But all she could think about was the weather, how temperamental New York was after the soft rain of Barbados. The rain that kept people inside and have the type of cabin fever that made them do things they would not ordinarily do. Like go to pharmaceutical conventions, confess feelings, and kiss. And fall in love. She glanced out the window, taking in the dark clouds drifting menacingly over the city. The sky was split in two, half the gloriously deep blue of early evening and half an angry, brewing black. The black was winning.
Putting the last pair of sandals, those foam flip-flops you're supposed to wear to the beach with a straw hat and sarong tied around your waist, into the bottom of her closet, Rachel zipped her now empty suitcase shut and pushed it to a temporary storage place under her bed. She could deal with that part later. Right now all she wanted to do was relax in Joey's barcalounger with a glass of white wine and think. Joey was gone, still on an airplane from Barbados with Ross and Charlie, their flights having a different return time than the rest of the gang. They wouldn't be home for a few hours. Emma was still at her mother's, and would be until tomorrow. Noonish.
Rachel shuffled out to the kitchen and uncorked a white Zinfandel, splashing it into a stemmed glass, swirling it and watching the veins slide reluctantly back down into the liquid. Reluctance, she thought, as she slipped herself into Joey's barcalounger, reveling in the comforting Joey scent emanating from the soft leather. Reluctance was exactly her problem, her condition. She was at a crossroads, her past laying behind her, a history encompassed by one person: Ross. He was the foundation. He held the joys, the heartbreaks, the sadness of the past nine years. That whole part of her life was wrapped up in him. The others had important roles too, but they weren't Ross. They weren't the center.
Ahead was her future, uncertain and pliable, ready to be molded like soft clay in a potter's hand. She saw two directions, one a road much like the one she had been on for the past year, with no one in particular to share her life with besides her five close friends and her little Emma. This was the path on which nothing changed and no one would get hurt except herself. And in the other direction she saw Joey, her fun, lovable, endearingly honest, devastatingly handsome Joey. The one to whom she had confessed her feelings to in Barbados. The one she had kissed. The one she had started to fall in love with. She could feel herself falling, and it scared her. Could this wonderful man be her future? Or was the road too dangerous? The lives of five friends and one daughter hung in the balance.
Which road would she choose?
She brought the glass of wine to her lips and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she decided, she would pick a road. She would pick it in her sleep, where her dreams would help to guide her and aid her in her decision. Reluctance has no place in the morning.
Three hours later, the apartment soaked in honey light drifting from Rachel's open bedroom door, the only sound was the drone of Manhattan traffic, the rain that had started to fall on a darkened city, and Rachel's steady breathing as she explored in her dreams. The front door opened, Joey pulling a suitcase behind him, his hair slightly disheveled from the airplane and sleepiness lining his eyes. His gaze fell on her asleep in his chair, a half-full glass of wine on the floor beside her. Half-full, he thought. Never half-empty.
He quietly shut the door behind him and placed his keys on the counter. The clank was loud in the hushed room, and Rachel's eyes flew open. Her decision was in front of her. Her morning was here.
..............
To be continued.
Please review, it's very helpful!
Exploring the options after events in Barbados. Mainly revolves around Rachel, Joey, and Ross, but hopefully with the other characters as well later on. Just for a bit of background, this story begins when everyone has returned home from Barbados, so events will be explained in later chapters (which, by the way, I haven't written yet nor planned out, so reviews and criticisms as well as plot suggestions are very welcome). This first chapter is mainly setting the scene. And also, the title probably won't make sense until later.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'Friends' or any of the characters. This story is all in good pure fun.
.........
Chapter One: Reluctance
Rachel sighed as she began to unpack her suitcase, pausing briefly as she ran her hand over the soft material of skirts and blouses, smoothing out their creases before choosing either closet or hamper. J. Crew capri khakis, hamper. BCBG blouse, closet. Rachel smiled, thinking Monica would be proud of the fact that for probably the first time, she was actually unpacking her suitcase, instead of living out of it for a week until everything was gone. She could almost feel Mon's congratulatory hug.
She was alone for the first time in a few days, some of the most confusing and life-altering and blissful days of her life, and she was fully prepared to sort out her rumpled thoughts. But all she could think about was the weather, how temperamental New York was after the soft rain of Barbados. The rain that kept people inside and have the type of cabin fever that made them do things they would not ordinarily do. Like go to pharmaceutical conventions, confess feelings, and kiss. And fall in love. She glanced out the window, taking in the dark clouds drifting menacingly over the city. The sky was split in two, half the gloriously deep blue of early evening and half an angry, brewing black. The black was winning.
Putting the last pair of sandals, those foam flip-flops you're supposed to wear to the beach with a straw hat and sarong tied around your waist, into the bottom of her closet, Rachel zipped her now empty suitcase shut and pushed it to a temporary storage place under her bed. She could deal with that part later. Right now all she wanted to do was relax in Joey's barcalounger with a glass of white wine and think. Joey was gone, still on an airplane from Barbados with Ross and Charlie, their flights having a different return time than the rest of the gang. They wouldn't be home for a few hours. Emma was still at her mother's, and would be until tomorrow. Noonish.
Rachel shuffled out to the kitchen and uncorked a white Zinfandel, splashing it into a stemmed glass, swirling it and watching the veins slide reluctantly back down into the liquid. Reluctance, she thought, as she slipped herself into Joey's barcalounger, reveling in the comforting Joey scent emanating from the soft leather. Reluctance was exactly her problem, her condition. She was at a crossroads, her past laying behind her, a history encompassed by one person: Ross. He was the foundation. He held the joys, the heartbreaks, the sadness of the past nine years. That whole part of her life was wrapped up in him. The others had important roles too, but they weren't Ross. They weren't the center.
Ahead was her future, uncertain and pliable, ready to be molded like soft clay in a potter's hand. She saw two directions, one a road much like the one she had been on for the past year, with no one in particular to share her life with besides her five close friends and her little Emma. This was the path on which nothing changed and no one would get hurt except herself. And in the other direction she saw Joey, her fun, lovable, endearingly honest, devastatingly handsome Joey. The one to whom she had confessed her feelings to in Barbados. The one she had kissed. The one she had started to fall in love with. She could feel herself falling, and it scared her. Could this wonderful man be her future? Or was the road too dangerous? The lives of five friends and one daughter hung in the balance.
Which road would she choose?
She brought the glass of wine to her lips and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she decided, she would pick a road. She would pick it in her sleep, where her dreams would help to guide her and aid her in her decision. Reluctance has no place in the morning.
Three hours later, the apartment soaked in honey light drifting from Rachel's open bedroom door, the only sound was the drone of Manhattan traffic, the rain that had started to fall on a darkened city, and Rachel's steady breathing as she explored in her dreams. The front door opened, Joey pulling a suitcase behind him, his hair slightly disheveled from the airplane and sleepiness lining his eyes. His gaze fell on her asleep in his chair, a half-full glass of wine on the floor beside her. Half-full, he thought. Never half-empty.
He quietly shut the door behind him and placed his keys on the counter. The clank was loud in the hushed room, and Rachel's eyes flew open. Her decision was in front of her. Her morning was here.
..............
To be continued.
Please review, it's very helpful!