"Star-Cross'd Lovers"
by Balthasar
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters. The story is mine, however.
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Rain cascaded down the overflowing gutters like Mets' fans to and from a
double-header. Rachel, among others soaked from the sudden downpour, was
trying to hail a cab. Unsuccessfully, you might say. A stranger pushed his
way to the curb relocating Rachel to the nearest post box.
"Watch it, pal!" she cried as she re-collected herself and her briefcase
which had fallen in the midst of abrupt chaos. People's politeness seemed to
be nonexistent as long as the clouds wept.
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Rachel rubbed her aching side as she unlocked the door guarding the apartment
she shared with Joey. Her kidneys felt as if they'd been punctured with a
letter-opener. She gave no thanks to the rude businessman on the corner of 5th Avenue and
88th Street.
"Hey, Rach," Joey and Ross said almost in unison. Joey was relaxing in the
recliner; Ross took comfort to a stool at the counter. They drank beers
absent-mindedly while listening to the radio.
"Hey, guys," she replied. "Ross, did you get trapped in the rain on your way
home from work, too?" His wet hair and wrinkled jacket didn't keep secrets
especially to those with a fashion sense. She rested her handbag on the
counter, and peeled her dampened trench coat from her equally dampened body.
"Oh, just barely.... I had just gotten off the subway when it started so I
didn't get it as badly as you did," he said as he gestured to her clothes.
Rachel took a sweeping look at her own attire. Her light, button-up shirt was
utterly see-through and plastered to her chest leaving little to the
imagination. If that wasn't bad enough, her skirt was hiked up revealing her
smooth thighs. "Oh, well, huh?" She tended to adjusting her Peeping Tom
endorsed clothing. "How long did they say this crummy weather is gonna last?"
She started towards her room to change.
"I dunno," Joey offered. "The cable is out."
"What? Is it? That's terrific. What next?" she mused quite amused by Joey's
downtrodden face. "Joey, I'm sure it'll be on again soon."
Ross said loud enough for Rachel to hear inside the closed door of her
chamber, "We borrowed the radio from the bathroom. So far they've had more
commercials than weather updates, unfortunately."
"Good thinking about the radio!" she shouted to be sure they could hear her.
Rachel resumed her undressing. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt and let it
fall to the floor. She ran her hand over her stomach and up to the front her
bra. Like her shirt, they were wet, also. She stripped down to her panties so
she could dry herself with the towel from the morning's shower. She glanced
at herself in the mirror. At the small of her back was a reddish mark from her
encounter with US Postal Service equipment.
Oh, great, she thought. That's definitely leaving a mark. She finished
dressing with a pair of red track pants and an oversized, black fleece. She
had replaced her wet bra with dry sports one. The racer back was comfortable
for hanging around the house. Her hair needed attention, but she opted for a
loose bun because, hell, it was just a Tuesday night.
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"Hey," she said to Ross as she entered the living room. "Where's Joey?"
"He went down to the coffee house. I was waiting for you to come, too,
but...judging from what you're wearing..." he drifted off.
"Oh, sorry. I'd come, normally. You wouldn't have guessed that I wouldn't
today. Sorry," she said with a smile. She curled up on the recliner. "You can
hang out with me here if you want. I'm just gonna station surf, though."
"Is that a warning?" he said jokingly. "If you want some company, I'll stay."
"Of course, I want your company," she said. "You, me, and Raymond will hang
out."
"Uh, Ray the radio, huh? Okay. Sounds good to me. I'm gonna get some
coffee first. Do you want anything? It'll only take me five minutes," Ross
offered kindly. He started to pull on his jacket; he'd surely need it if he were to step foot outside.
"Hmm...." Rachel scrunched her lips and then said decidedly, "I think I could
go for a mochaccino," she sat cross-legged in the chair, "with a side of
Ross."
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"Doctor, doctor, give me the news. I've gotta...bad case of lo-oooovin'
yo-ou...."
Rachel and Ross belted out the lyrics to the vintage Robert Palmer song. The
radio station was in full swing of their exclusive flashback hour, and the
caffeine was beginning to make its way into Ross and Rachel's blood streams.
"Hey, you turd!" Rachel accused Ross. "It's my turn still! You just gave me
your two kings." She grabbed the bicycle card from Ross' hand and buried it
beneath the "pond" of cards as it was before.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot again," Ross apologized for what seemed like the
millionth time since they brought out the deck.
"It's all right. I don't suppose I should just expect a man with a Ph.D. to
know the rules of 'Go Fish,'" Rachel started to pick a fight for what seemed
like the millionth time that evening.
"Well, hell, if you would quit singing and start playing the game we wouldn't
have these problems," Ross fired back at her. He knew she was looking for an argument. After
all, she was losing. He ran his hand through his partly-dry brown hair trying to make some sense
of the tangled locks.
"Oh, shut up, Ross," Rachel said as she threw her "book" at him. She liked
how flushed his face got when he was annoyed. It gave him a nice glow that
was much needed on a gloomy day such that it was. He collected her strewn
cards and organized them: deuces with deuces, tens with tens, jacks with
jacks, etc. "Ross, you could have left them there. It's not a big deal."
"Oh...." he said just realizing his work was unnecessary. Without warning,
she gathered the cards he had organized and threw them everywhere. Ross sat looking at
her dumb-founded. She leaned forward and took Ross' cards from his hands. She
threw them behind herself. "Now what, Dr. Geller?" Her attitude got the best of her at times. It
wasn't as if her attitude didn't get to Ross at times, either, though. He didn't mind the flare that it
brought about her one bit. Rachel rose from her spot on the floor to test the cable's current
position.
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"Well, look what's working now...." Ross said as he turned to witness the cable in
full force moments later. Rachel turned around and smiled.
"I guess the gods are on my side," she said as if it were her magic touch that cured the television.
"Let's find something good." Ross hauled a stool from the counter next to the recliner so he could
share in the late-night programming, too. Rachel failed to locate the remote control so she was
forced to turn the channels by the ancient method. She stood in front of the box and surfed
network by network, station by station, channel by channel.... Her thoughts, however, were
focused on the pain that was developing in her lower back. Ross noticed that she was rubbing her
back and instantly became concerned being Ross and all.
He asked, "Rach, what's wrong with your back?" Rachel turned her head quickly to him and then
back at the screen.
"Oh, nothing much. I got shoved by some guy on the street today. You know, mob mentality,"
she answered giving up on the channels.
"Well," Ross said inspecting the injury from the safety of his stool. "I doesn't look like 'nothing
much.'" He stood up and reached out for her waist. Caught off-guard by Ross' actions, Rachel
quickly jumped to the side. "Woah, hey. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just let me see." Rachel stepped
back toward Ross and let him stake out the premises. He lifted the back of her shirt quite a ways
revealing her bra and silky-smooth, olive skin. The scrape covered more area than Ross had
expected; as assumed, the worst of it was located south, though. With careful hands, he
massaged the cut with surprising expertise.
"Oh, that feels better," Rachel said breaking the silence. She was enjoying Ross' touch. It worked
out perfectly that Ross was enjoying the touch, also. He stepped backwards to the recliner and sat
down on the floor in front of it. Rachel turned around to get a look of what it was that he was
doing.
"Sit down here. It'll be more comfortable," he advised. She sat down in front of him and slid
herself back as he parted his crossed legs. After minutes of slouching forward, Rachel eased up
and leaned back against Ross. Needless to say, he didn't mind. Rachel closed her eyes and took a
deep breath as he rested his chin on her shoulder while continuing to rub her lower back. The
skin was soft and smooth. He could tell she was relaxing nicely by the lack of tension in her
muscles.
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Joey and his date made an entrance around half-past one. They barged through the door kissing
and giggling.
"Baby, am I gonna show you a good time tonight," Joey said loudly. "The Tribbiani way or no
way...." The bimbo giggled as if there were no tomorrow. Apparently, his charm was a big turn-
on. Kissing and groping, they made their way to Joey's bedroom.
Within seconds, Joey's head popped out of the door, and his eyes focused on the two figures
sitting in front of the television. He raised his eyebrow and waited for an explanation.
Rachel sighed and said, "Joe, get back to your date and quit worrying about us, okay? God, what
is it with some people?" She got up angrily and went straight for the bathroom. Ross looked at
Joey and shrugged his shoulders. He really had no idea what had gotten into Rachel.
"Well," Joey said as he stuck his head inside his room. "I gotta go, Ross."
"Um, yeah, bye," Ross managed to say as soon as the door slammed shut.
After a little while, Rachel emerged from the bathroom. When she got to her door she said,
"Good night, Ross. Thanks for hanging out with me and...stuff." Then she shut her door quietly.
What is a guy to do?
by Balthasar
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters. The story is mine, however.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Rain cascaded down the overflowing gutters like Mets' fans to and from a
double-header. Rachel, among others soaked from the sudden downpour, was
trying to hail a cab. Unsuccessfully, you might say. A stranger pushed his
way to the curb relocating Rachel to the nearest post box.
"Watch it, pal!" she cried as she re-collected herself and her briefcase
which had fallen in the midst of abrupt chaos. People's politeness seemed to
be nonexistent as long as the clouds wept.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Rachel rubbed her aching side as she unlocked the door guarding the apartment
she shared with Joey. Her kidneys felt as if they'd been punctured with a
letter-opener. She gave no thanks to the rude businessman on the corner of 5th Avenue and
88th Street.
"Hey, Rach," Joey and Ross said almost in unison. Joey was relaxing in the
recliner; Ross took comfort to a stool at the counter. They drank beers
absent-mindedly while listening to the radio.
"Hey, guys," she replied. "Ross, did you get trapped in the rain on your way
home from work, too?" His wet hair and wrinkled jacket didn't keep secrets
especially to those with a fashion sense. She rested her handbag on the
counter, and peeled her dampened trench coat from her equally dampened body.
"Oh, just barely.... I had just gotten off the subway when it started so I
didn't get it as badly as you did," he said as he gestured to her clothes.
Rachel took a sweeping look at her own attire. Her light, button-up shirt was
utterly see-through and plastered to her chest leaving little to the
imagination. If that wasn't bad enough, her skirt was hiked up revealing her
smooth thighs. "Oh, well, huh?" She tended to adjusting her Peeping Tom
endorsed clothing. "How long did they say this crummy weather is gonna last?"
She started towards her room to change.
"I dunno," Joey offered. "The cable is out."
"What? Is it? That's terrific. What next?" she mused quite amused by Joey's
downtrodden face. "Joey, I'm sure it'll be on again soon."
Ross said loud enough for Rachel to hear inside the closed door of her
chamber, "We borrowed the radio from the bathroom. So far they've had more
commercials than weather updates, unfortunately."
"Good thinking about the radio!" she shouted to be sure they could hear her.
Rachel resumed her undressing. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt and let it
fall to the floor. She ran her hand over her stomach and up to the front her
bra. Like her shirt, they were wet, also. She stripped down to her panties so
she could dry herself with the towel from the morning's shower. She glanced
at herself in the mirror. At the small of her back was a reddish mark from her
encounter with US Postal Service equipment.
Oh, great, she thought. That's definitely leaving a mark. She finished
dressing with a pair of red track pants and an oversized, black fleece. She
had replaced her wet bra with dry sports one. The racer back was comfortable
for hanging around the house. Her hair needed attention, but she opted for a
loose bun because, hell, it was just a Tuesday night.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
"Hey," she said to Ross as she entered the living room. "Where's Joey?"
"He went down to the coffee house. I was waiting for you to come, too,
but...judging from what you're wearing..." he drifted off.
"Oh, sorry. I'd come, normally. You wouldn't have guessed that I wouldn't
today. Sorry," she said with a smile. She curled up on the recliner. "You can
hang out with me here if you want. I'm just gonna station surf, though."
"Is that a warning?" he said jokingly. "If you want some company, I'll stay."
"Of course, I want your company," she said. "You, me, and Raymond will hang
out."
"Uh, Ray the radio, huh? Okay. Sounds good to me. I'm gonna get some
coffee first. Do you want anything? It'll only take me five minutes," Ross
offered kindly. He started to pull on his jacket; he'd surely need it if he were to step foot outside.
"Hmm...." Rachel scrunched her lips and then said decidedly, "I think I could
go for a mochaccino," she sat cross-legged in the chair, "with a side of
Ross."
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
"Doctor, doctor, give me the news. I've gotta...bad case of lo-oooovin'
yo-ou...."
Rachel and Ross belted out the lyrics to the vintage Robert Palmer song. The
radio station was in full swing of their exclusive flashback hour, and the
caffeine was beginning to make its way into Ross and Rachel's blood streams.
"Hey, you turd!" Rachel accused Ross. "It's my turn still! You just gave me
your two kings." She grabbed the bicycle card from Ross' hand and buried it
beneath the "pond" of cards as it was before.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot again," Ross apologized for what seemed like the
millionth time since they brought out the deck.
"It's all right. I don't suppose I should just expect a man with a Ph.D. to
know the rules of 'Go Fish,'" Rachel started to pick a fight for what seemed
like the millionth time that evening.
"Well, hell, if you would quit singing and start playing the game we wouldn't
have these problems," Ross fired back at her. He knew she was looking for an argument. After
all, she was losing. He ran his hand through his partly-dry brown hair trying to make some sense
of the tangled locks.
"Oh, shut up, Ross," Rachel said as she threw her "book" at him. She liked
how flushed his face got when he was annoyed. It gave him a nice glow that
was much needed on a gloomy day such that it was. He collected her strewn
cards and organized them: deuces with deuces, tens with tens, jacks with
jacks, etc. "Ross, you could have left them there. It's not a big deal."
"Oh...." he said just realizing his work was unnecessary. Without warning,
she gathered the cards he had organized and threw them everywhere. Ross sat looking at
her dumb-founded. She leaned forward and took Ross' cards from his hands. She
threw them behind herself. "Now what, Dr. Geller?" Her attitude got the best of her at times. It
wasn't as if her attitude didn't get to Ross at times, either, though. He didn't mind the flare that it
brought about her one bit. Rachel rose from her spot on the floor to test the cable's current
position.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
"Well, look what's working now...." Ross said as he turned to witness the cable in
full force moments later. Rachel turned around and smiled.
"I guess the gods are on my side," she said as if it were her magic touch that cured the television.
"Let's find something good." Ross hauled a stool from the counter next to the recliner so he could
share in the late-night programming, too. Rachel failed to locate the remote control so she was
forced to turn the channels by the ancient method. She stood in front of the box and surfed
network by network, station by station, channel by channel.... Her thoughts, however, were
focused on the pain that was developing in her lower back. Ross noticed that she was rubbing her
back and instantly became concerned being Ross and all.
He asked, "Rach, what's wrong with your back?" Rachel turned her head quickly to him and then
back at the screen.
"Oh, nothing much. I got shoved by some guy on the street today. You know, mob mentality,"
she answered giving up on the channels.
"Well," Ross said inspecting the injury from the safety of his stool. "I doesn't look like 'nothing
much.'" He stood up and reached out for her waist. Caught off-guard by Ross' actions, Rachel
quickly jumped to the side. "Woah, hey. I'm not gonna hurt you. Just let me see." Rachel stepped
back toward Ross and let him stake out the premises. He lifted the back of her shirt quite a ways
revealing her bra and silky-smooth, olive skin. The scrape covered more area than Ross had
expected; as assumed, the worst of it was located south, though. With careful hands, he
massaged the cut with surprising expertise.
"Oh, that feels better," Rachel said breaking the silence. She was enjoying Ross' touch. It worked
out perfectly that Ross was enjoying the touch, also. He stepped backwards to the recliner and sat
down on the floor in front of it. Rachel turned around to get a look of what it was that he was
doing.
"Sit down here. It'll be more comfortable," he advised. She sat down in front of him and slid
herself back as he parted his crossed legs. After minutes of slouching forward, Rachel eased up
and leaned back against Ross. Needless to say, he didn't mind. Rachel closed her eyes and took a
deep breath as he rested his chin on her shoulder while continuing to rub her lower back. The
skin was soft and smooth. He could tell she was relaxing nicely by the lack of tension in her
muscles.
$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$
Joey and his date made an entrance around half-past one. They barged through the door kissing
and giggling.
"Baby, am I gonna show you a good time tonight," Joey said loudly. "The Tribbiani way or no
way...." The bimbo giggled as if there were no tomorrow. Apparently, his charm was a big turn-
on. Kissing and groping, they made their way to Joey's bedroom.
Within seconds, Joey's head popped out of the door, and his eyes focused on the two figures
sitting in front of the television. He raised his eyebrow and waited for an explanation.
Rachel sighed and said, "Joe, get back to your date and quit worrying about us, okay? God, what
is it with some people?" She got up angrily and went straight for the bathroom. Ross looked at
Joey and shrugged his shoulders. He really had no idea what had gotten into Rachel.
"Well," Joey said as he stuck his head inside his room. "I gotta go, Ross."
"Um, yeah, bye," Ross managed to say as soon as the door slammed shut.
After a little while, Rachel emerged from the bathroom. When she got to her door she said,
"Good night, Ross. Thanks for hanging out with me and...stuff." Then she shut her door quietly.
What is a guy to do?