A/N: Ok, so this story is sort a sequel to two other Phoey stories I have written: All in Good Time My Love, and The One With Joey and Phoebe's Baby, HOWEVER, reading those fics will not be necessary to understand this one. All you need to know is that Phoebe and Joey are married, have one child and this takes place about 2-3 years after season 10 ended. Which makes Mondler's twins about 2, and Emma around 4 or 5. Thank you for giving this fic a chance, and I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are very much appreciated. I'd love to know what you think. :)

It's not even 6am yet and Phoebe is awakened for the second time this morning, much to her annoyance. Not that getting up at ungodly hours is unusal for her.

Normally, by this time, her infant son would be awake, standing in his crib and loudly demanding to be fed in his gibberish baby language. Much like his father, the baby refuses to do much of anything on an empty stomach until he eats. However, this is one of the few pleasant mornings where he decides to sleep in, thus allowing his parents to sleep in. That's why it's so frustrating to be awakened by her phone's loud noise to let her know she has yet another text from Monica, who's twin children are well past the crib age. Yet, if there are plans set out for the day, Monica is the one you'd expect to obsessively insist on sticking to a schedule, if it means being prepared hours before said scheduled event. This morning happens to be a morning gym work-out, for her, Phoebe and Rachel. They were happy enough to find a gym with day care accommodations for their kids while they work out. But since then, Monica's become infatuated, and much too enthusiastic about her new work-out routine.

Phoebe blindly reaches out, her eyes still closed, feeling around on the night stand before she feels the phone and picks it up. For a brief moment, she worries about Greyson, when she sees that time, and realizes he's still not awake, but the sound of his peaceful breathing coming through the baby monitor reassure her that he's alright. She sighs, allowing her eyes to focus on the screen of her phone to read the message:

'Hey Pheebs. Just got a text from Rach, she is sick this morning so she bailed. Looks like it's just you and me. Still up for meeting at Central Perk at 7:30?"

Joey, who could normally sleep through a hurricane if he had to, seems to also have been rudely awakened by Phoebe's phone. He turns onto his stomach on his side of the bed, his head turned towards his wife. "What does she want, now?" he sleepily mumbles. He knows no one else who would be texting Phoebe at this hour, unless there was an emergency, but Monica.

"Rachel's sick.." Phoebe replies.

"That's nice." Joey responds, still only half awake and unable to fully maintain a conversation. Phoebe sets down her phone. She contemplates getting up, as she knows she'll have to soon enough anyways, but she decides to savor the few precious moments she has to go back to sleep. That is until she feels her husband wrap his arms around her, as he shifts closer to her. A smile crosses Phoebe's lips when he lifts his head, and gently plants a kiss on her cheek.

"Greyson still asleep?" Joey asks.

"Mm-hm." Phoebe answers. She rolls onto her back, gazing up at her husband, while running the back of her hand affectionately over his cheek. "You'd hear him if he wasn't."

"It's about time that kid slept in," Joey mutters. He smirks, dips his head down towards her and kisses her lips, slowly. "It's been a long time since I've had my gorgeous wife all to myself."

"Well," Phoebe responds. "Only 18 more years before we can kick him out." Placing her hand on the back of his neck, she pulls him closer, returning his kiss, and enjoying the intimate moment.

They happened few and far between since Greyson was born. As much as Phoebe adored her baby boy, she's already forgotten how much she misses her and Joey's mornings together. She can tell that Joey -who prior to becoming a father, couldn't go a day without sex - misses this too, from the way his hand begins to eagerly slide up her side, as he moves his kisses to the sensitive skin below her jaw line. She's only able to enjoy the sensation for a moment before the sound of the baby monitor nearly causes both of them to leap from their skin.

"Dada! Dada! DADAAAAH!" Phoebe can hear the 11 month old bouncing impatiently, both on the moniter, and from his room across the hall in their apartment.

Joey drops his head, giving a sudden sigh of defiance. "Dammit.." he mutters.

Phoebe, however, see's the silver lining in the fact that for once, Joey is awake when Greyson is. Meaning she's not the one who has to get up with him. Recently, Joey had been got a small role working on a new crime series, similar to CSI, and sometimes, he wasn't home for days.

"I believe that would be you.." she tells her husband, before she turns back onto her side to relax.

"Pheebs, he calls everything Dada. He calls the tv Dada."

"Because he knows that his dad is on tv. He's very smart."

"In that case, his dad could be anyone." Joey says, as he too, flops back down onto the bed.

"Nice try.." Phoebe tells him. "Your son is hungry."

"So go feed him. You're the only one here who has boobs!"

"He eats food now, you know that!" Phoebe argues, growing tired of his excuses. "Besides, you never get up with him!"

"I got up with him in the middle of the night and changed his diaper!" Joey proclaims.

"Yeah, well...my mom's dead!"

"My mom's husband is having an affair!" Joey retaliate.

Phoebe turns over to face him. "Oh, how sad. You know, I'd love to tell my mom all about that, but she's still dead! "

Joey gives a groan. By this point, Greyson's noise has become more adamant, crying as well as shouting, to get his point across.

"Fine.." Joey grumbles, irritably pulling himself out of bed. Grabbing his robe and putting on, Joey leaves the room.

Baby Greyson -who's not quite old enough to walk on his own, but old enough to pull himself to his feet- is standing up in his crib, pulling on the bars like a tiny little inmate in prison, proclaiming his innocence. Only instead of proclaiming, he's wailing at the top of his lungs.

"Woah! Hey, hey, what's all the yelling about, huh, buddy? C'mere.."

Greyson's tears transform into a 4-toothed grin at the sight of his daddy, whom he loves dearly, and isn't used to seeing this time of day. He reaches his little arms up and babbles happily as Joey picks him up. Joey plants a kiss on his son's chubby cheek. Greyson has curly locks, almost as blonde as Phoebe's hair, but big, brown eyes, like Joey. Rather angelic-like features that make his rambunctious behavior easy to forgive.

"How's Daddy's handsome little man this morning?"

After changing the baby's wet diaper on the changing table, Joey lifts him up again. "Alright, big guy. Let's go see about getting us some grub, huh? I don't know about you, but I am starving!"

"Dadadada..." Greyson babbles in response, as Joey carrys him to the kitchen, in one arm, and opens the fridge door with the other. After staring for a moment, still attempting to wake himself up, Joey selects a few items:

A carton of eggs, a plate of left over ham, some cheese, onion and mushrooms. He sets it all down on the counter, nearly forgetting about Greyson's breakfast. The baby reminds him - by making a loud noise that isn't quite a word, and wiping a tiny, slobbery hand against Joey's cheek- that he too needs to eat. Joey's become used to drool, puke, and any other disgusting function a baby could make, after being a father for 11 months.

"Oh, right!" he says, re-opening the fridge. "Sorry, dude...let's see. How bout some yogurt and bananas for you, and a an omelette for Daddy. Sound good? That's what monkey's eat, right?"

He makes the baby laugh by tickling his belly and making monkey sounds, before he places and secures him into his high chair so he can prepare Greyson's breakfast. He peels and chops up a banana into small pieces, and places it in a small plastic bowl, with some yogurt, which he knows will be a pain to clean up later, but that's to be expected when you have an 11 month old.

With Greyson quiet and satisfied with his breakfast, Joey goes back to cooking his own meal. He puts a few slices of bread in the toaster, turns on the coffee pot and then starts with his omelet. Soon after, he hears his wife get up and go into the bathroom.

"Hey, Pheebs..what do you want in your omelet?" he calls over his shoulder.

"..motherfucker!" he hears her curse instead of answering him. Joey's eyes grow wide as he looks at Greyson, who momentarily glances at the bathroom door with curiosity, his face smeared with mashed banana's and yogurt.

"Pretend you didn't hear that, ok, dude?" Joey says, as he reaches out and ruffles the baby's hair as he steps towards the bathroom door. He raps on the door, with concern, thinking she's hurt herself. "You alright, Pheebs?"

The door opens, and Phoebe emerges, her shirt pulled up half-way, over her stomach. "Joey... is it just me or, am I getting fat?"

"What!?" he snaps, thrown off guard by her question. "Pheebs, come on.."

"No, really. Am I? Cause it just seems like my stomach is sticking out more than usual, what do you think?"

"Uh.." Joey's eyes dart uncomfortably from her stomach, to her face, unsure of how to answer, without getting himself in trouble. If that was even possible. If he says no, she'll assume he's lying. If he's honest, well..before he can make up his mind over which is worse, she smacks him, with the back of her hand across the chest. "Oww!" he cries. "What!? I didn't say anything!"

"Exactly! You took too long to answer!" Phoebe tells him, lowering her shirt. "I knew it! I'm putting on weight again! Ugh! How is this possible!? I just lost all of my baby weight, and now it's coming back!" she angrily shrieks.

"Pheebs, no it's not.." Joey insists. "You're just imagining things!"

Phoebe lets out a sigh, becoming more frustrated. "Y'know, I don't get it! Monica's been making us go to the gym with her almost every day and SHE's the only one who's losing weight! When we weighed ourselves yesterday at the gym, Monica lost 6 pounds, Rachel and I had both gained a pound!

I swear, that bitch is into voodoo or something! She's taking all of her weight and she's cursing us with it!"

Joey gives a snort. "I highly doubt that. Look, Pheebs, you want my honest opinion?" He pulls her towards him, landing a kiss on her forehead. "You look beautiful. Smokin' hot. You always will be, to me."

To his satisfaction he sees the corners of her mouth curve into a grin. "Thank you, sweetheart." she leans in, giving him a peck on the lips.

"Besides, if you do gain some weight, hey, I'm ok with that. More bounce for the ounce, you know?" He grins, and she hits him again, less violently this time.

The sound of Greyson's spoon crashing to the floor catches both of their attention.

"Hey! Woah!" Joey cries, rushing back to the kitchen to clean up the yogurt, splattered on the floor. "What have I told you about wasting food, man? You're a Tribbiani! We don't do that!"

He suddenly remembers his omelet, which is going to burn soon, if he doesn't flip it, and returns to the stove, having cleaned up the mess. "Pheebs, you didn't answer me on what you wanted on your omelet."

"Oh..don't worry about it." Phoebe says. She goes over to the baby, to clean the remainder of his breakfast off his face, and get him ready to go. "I don't have time, anyways. Drill Sargent Monica will have a fit if we're not there on time."

Once Joey's food is done, He tries to hand one of the slices of toast to Phoebe. "Well here, you have to eat something."

"Alright.." Phoebe reluctantly agrees. She lifts Greyson from his high chair before she takes the toast. "I'm probably not going to burn any calories, anyways thanks to Monica, and her voodoo spell.."

"By the way," Joey says, as he picks up his fork to eat his omelet. "What's wrong with Rachel? You said she was sick."

"Oh..I'm not sure, Monica just said she was sick." Phoebe replies, as she hastily begins to remove Greyson's yogurt and banana covered pajamas, while she's holding him.

"Maybe she has the same thing you had last week." Joey suggests. "You know, when you were throwing up."

"Oh, that...no, I think that was just a 24 hour flu, or something because I feel fine, now."

"Hey!" Joey cries out in protest, as his son has taken a sudden interest in the food on his plate. It takes everything within him to control his first instinct, which is to smack his tiny hand away with his fork, as he see's it reach down and grab a piece of egg, before stuffing it in his mouth.

"Come on, dude! When you can chew like a man, you can eat like a man! Until then, you leave my food alone!"

"Actually, you know, that smells really good.." Joey watches in utter horror as his wife takes his fork out of his hand and takes a bite of HIS omelette. "Woah, woah, WOAH! Listen, woman..." he begins. "Greyson, is just a baby! But YOU, of all people, know better than to take food off of my plate! And secondly! That has meat in it!"

Phoebe pauses from chewing and looks at him with disgust. He expects her to spit the omelet out, immediately. Instead she gives a shrug and takes another bite. Before Joey can scold her, a thought suddenly comes to mind, as he watches her devour about a third of his omelet. The last time he saw her craving ham, was when she was...his eyes double in size with sudden realization.

"Pheebs.." he begins, eyeing his wife, with suspicion. "Are pregnant again?"

Phoebe's brow furrows. "What!? No!" she tells him, her mouth still full. She puts down the fork. "I'm just...I was just hungry. That's all."

Joey doesn't take his eyes from her face. "Your sure?"

"Yes! God...I told you, Monica put a spell on us to make us fat!"

"She didn't put a spell on you to crave meat!" Joey points out.

"Well..she might have. You don't know that."

"Look, Monica doesn't know voodoo, Pheebs.." Joey insists.

"Yeah, well..maybe she does. Maybe she looked it up online. I dunno.. Look, I gotta go. We're running late. Come on, sweetie.." she says to Greyson as she takes him back to his room to dress him.

Joey sits down at the table, with what's left of his omelette. But he's too confused to eat at the moment. His mind is too full of questions. What if Phoebe really is pregnant? what if they were going to have another baby?

He starts to eat, while pondering what it would be like to have two babies. If Monica and Chandler could do it, it couldn't be that hard. He's still trying to wrap his mind around the idea, when Phoebe and Greyson return to the kitchen, fully dressed and equip with Greyson's diaper bag. "Alright...we'll be back, soon."

She bends down, to give Joey a hug, with one arm, from behind, and kisses him on his head. "Love you, sweetie. Say 'Bye, Daddy'!" she tells Greyson.

"Love you guys!" Joey calls to them, as they rush out the door, in a hurry. Joey finishes his omelet after they leave, still feeling hungry when he's done, and still annoyed that Phoebe ate part of his food. She didn't even act upon the cravings she had when she was carrying Greyson. But when she was carrying

Frank and Alice's triplets, that was a different story.. Joey sighs, and returns to the fridge to find something else to eat, and take his mind off of Phoebe. It's driving him crazy, not knowing if she's pregnant or not, despite the nagging feeling he has, that she is.

His thoughts are interrupted by the wall phone buzzing, telling him there's someone outside, at the door.

Joey picks up the receiver, assuming Phoebe forgot something in her rush, that she was going to ask him to bring downstairs. "Yeah?"

"Joey? I-It's Ross. Dude, can I come in? I really need to talk to you.."