Hello my friends. This story starts at the end of the final season, which aired on May 6th 2004, and then goes into the time period five years later. I simply just had the idea one day a couple of weeks ago and hadn't had time to finish the first chapter until now. This story will probably be rather long with many chapters.

I sincerely hope you enjoy it, thank you for reading :) Please review, I enjoy your words ever so much...

Five years later...

Chapter One

'Ross and Rachel'

Ross entered his apartment with a glum stride violently slamming the door behind him. He strolled sluggishly over to his light brown two-seater sofa, pressed the button on his answering machine and slumped down with a sigh. Booooooop. Rachel's voice blasted out of the answering machine.

"Ross, hi. It's me." Ross perked up, listening intently. "I just got back on the plane. And I just feel awful. That is so not how I wanted things to end with us." He looked towards the floor and repositioned himself back in his seat. "It's just that I wasn't expecting to see you, and all of a sudden you're there and saying these things... And... And now I'm just sitting here and thinking of all the stuff I should have said, and I didn't." Ross concentrated on her voice, contemplating her words. "I mean, I didn't even get to tell you that I love you too." He leant back sadly and crossed his arms on his chest. "Because of course I do. I love you." He stared straight at the machine listening. "I love you. I love you. What am I doing? I love you! Oh, I've gotta see you. I've gotta get off this plane." Ross leant up.

"Oh my God!" he said shocked and confused.

"Excuse me?" Rachel asked the air stewardess.

"Miss? Please, sit down!" the stewardess replied with authority. Ross perked up. Listening. Absorbing the words that were spoken.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, but I need to get off the plane, okay? I need to tell someone that I love them." she pleaded.

"Miss, I can't let you off the plane." Ross rose from the sofa and exclaimed,

"Let her off the plane!" to the stewardess as if she could hear.

"I'm afraid you are gonna have to take a seat." the stewardess insisted.

"Oh, please, miss, you don't understand!" Rachel pleaded, begging her to let her off the plain.

"Try to understand!" Ross shouted to the answering machine, throwing his arms towards it.

"Oh, come on, miss, isn't there any way that you can just let me off the..." Rachel ended. The message had finished. Ross stood there in despair, open-mouthed and wanting to know what happened.

"No! No! Oh my God." Ross cursed again, bent over the answering machine fumbling with the keys. "Did she get off the plane? Did she get off the plane?" he asked, shouting.

"I got off the plane." came a voice from the doorway. Ross span around. The door ajar, with Rachel standing there looking straight at him. Ross stared at her dumb-founded, breathing heavily. His chest rising and falling rapidly.

"You got off the plane." Ross said to her, his gentle brown eyes sad like a puppy's; yet happy at the same time.

Five years later...

Rachel brought her index finger up to her lips. "Hey, honey." Rachel whispered as Ross burst through the door. "Oscar's sleeping."

"OK." he said and silently crept through the apartment over to Rachel like a villain in a cartoon tiptoeing with exaggerated movements. "Where's Emma?" he questioned.

"She's with with little Ramond, having a play date." They continued to talk in hushed tones.

"Aahh yes. He better stay away from my little girl." Ross said defensively in a joking manner.

Later on that evening

Emma had arrived back home safely earlier on in the evening, dropped off by Ramond's father. Now Oscar and Emma were now both sound asleep neatly tucked up in their beds.

"Baby, I'm bored." Rachel declared out of nowhere.

"OK, so what do you want to do? Do you want to go out somewhere?" Ross asked.

"I don't mean bored now. I mean I'm bored here. In Paris. We don't have any proper friends. Just work colleagues." Rachel let out a monumental sign.

"I can't believe you feel the same way. I don't want to live here anymore either. I want to go back to America. Shall we? Why shouldn't we?" Ross inquired.

"Can we? Should we?"

"We can! We shall! Let's do it!" they both leapt up simultaneously and fell into an ecstatic hug. Waaaaaaaa! A feeble cry echoed from the room across the corridor of her living room.

"Ooops..." Ross mumbled with a cheeky grin. "I'll go."

Ross and Rachel relaxed upon their luxurious abyss of a sofa which was stuffed full of ample duck feathers. They discussed in length about what they should do as they weren't happy in Paris any more.

"I mean, what area should we even move to?" Rachel asked herself and Ross.

"What about the suburbs? I'd like to be near my parents so they can see Oscar and Emma more. We should be near our friends too. Hey! We could move into a sizeable house in the suburbs so Oscar and Em can play in the garden and we can get swings and a play set and a golden retriever and and..."

"Getting a bit carried away there... but yes, a house in the suburbs sounds amazing. We'll look tomorrow." a magnificent beam shone across Rachel's face.

"Chandler? Hey, is that you?" Ross whispered into the phone trying to sneak away from Rachel, she didn't need to know yet.

"Don't tell Monica but we're thinking of moving back to America. Can you check to see if there are any houses in your area? Let's keep this between me and you though, OK?"