Restless
It happens in the same turn of events with a slight alteration. Stirring from her kitchen. Monica shuffles into the kitchen wearing the blue silk robe she recieved from Phoebe for her birthday.
Rachel is usually sitting by the window, her feet curled underneath her, the moonlight forming pools on the floor. She typically has a magazine in her lap, usually. Lucky, Jane, or People. Rachel sticks her tongue out of the side of her mouth slightly as she does the crossword in People and looks up when Monica approaches.
"Hey," Monica says. She grabs a pillow from the couch and sits down beside Rachel. "I couldn't sleep." Rachel nods.
"Neither could I. Relationship thoughts keeping me up. Hey, help me finish the puzzle. A Tale of Two _____." Monica sees the tiny balcony lights reflected in Rachel's eyes.
"Cities," she finishes for Rachel. Rachel shakes her head, and fills it in.
"Oh! I always thought it was a A Tale of Two People. Thanks Monica." She looks up from writing and Monica thinks that Rachel's smile rivals moonlight.
"We have got to get you reading more classics. Actually, books in general," she comments, taking the magazine away from Rachel. She crosses over to the couch, flicking idly through the pages and folding down the corners of articles she'll want to read later. Rachel comes next to her, taking the issue back.
"Hey, I just bought that!" she exclaims. Monica arranges the magazine neatly on the table.
"Stealing it from Joey and Chandler's mailbox is not buying it." Rachel shrugs and sits beside her. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she pulls it loose. Monica watches the strands fall softly around Rachel' s face, framing it delicately.
"I had a key," she retorts. She gets up and strolls to the kitchen, her pink silk robe a twin to Monica's, thanks to Phoebe going through a stage where she gave matching presents to everyone. She opens the cupboards and pulls out two champagne flutes .
"How about you and I have a little bubbly?" she asks, grabbing the corkscrew. Monica jumps up from her chair and tries to stop Rachel.
"Rachel! That's Ross' champagne! He was saving that for after he recieved his Racks award!" she scolds, taking the glasses away. Rachel pouts a little.
"Oh, Monica, come on. He can always get another bottle of nine fourty-nine..some name I can't pronounce," she stammers. "God, that's old. Oh well, waste not, want not."
It's useless to argue with Rachel. Monica takes the glass, grabbing a jar of fresh cherries as well, and they head to the balcony. There's a soft breeze in the air and it whips Rachel's hair around, while Monica's stays still, pinned neatly back. Above them the sky is an infinite landscape of stars.
"I have a theory that for every wrong guy there is a star in the sky," Rachel comments, dropping a red cherry in her mouth. "And that each right one is a falling star..and what are the chances of seeing those? So, I'm screwed."
Monica laughs. "That's not true. You've been with great guys. There was Barry." Rachel looks at her sideways. "Okay, bad example. There was Ross. And that other guy..and Ross..and.." she trails off. "You know what? I am so glad I'm not an astronomer."
"Aw, honey, thanks," Rachel coos, placing her empty glass on the balcony. "But I think I need to take a break from dating, you know. Even though, let's face it, I haven't looked better."
Monica reaches over and brushes her hand across Rachel's cheek. Her skin is alabaster, soft and silkier than Monica's robe. "Well, yeah, you look great."
"And you do too, Monica," Rachel adds. She pours more champagne into the flutes. "How about a little more?"
Monica chews on a cherry thoughtfully. "Do you remember when you almost choked on these trying to woo Joshua?" Rachel blushes.
"God, don't remind me. I was such a sad, pathetic...mess that day. But he was great, wasn't he? That was my shooting star, but then I killed it. I wished too much on it and it fell crashing to the ground like..you know, stars do. I don't think I'll ever find someone as good as Ross...or Joshua."
"Oh, don't say that. You're going to find a great guy," Monica chirps a little too happily. "Tomorrow, we'll go out and snag you the perfect guy. A great dresser, courteous, clean fingernails and who puts a coaster down, because what animal leaves a ring on the table?" Rachel throws back her head with a bell-like laugh.
"Oh, Mon. I'd love to, but I think maybe I need to hold off. I could become a nun or a lesbian. No men for me," she sighs, holding the now empty cherry jar.
"Rachel, you wouldn't last two days as a lesbian!" Monica replies slyly. "You'd be back to men faster than you can say Anne Heche!"
"Is that so, Ms. Geller? Women don't know what they're missing." Rachel then kisses her firmly. "See?"
Monica's shocked but doesn't pull away. She runs her tongue over her lips. "Not bad," she comments. "Not bad at all. Though, I have to say, if there was a kissing olympics, I would be champion."
She grabs Rachel, placing both hands on her face and brushes her lips against Rachel's softly and quick, lingering for a second. Rachel is sitting stunned beside her, and Monica folds her arms across her chest defiantly. "And that is how it's done," she gloats.
This is the point at which Monica wakes up. She's drenched in sweat and feels her heart palpitate as she looks over at Chandler, sleeping soundly beside her.