(A/N) Arg, I know I've been in the middle of two fics for a while, but I recently fell back into a phase I had gone through previously: Rachel and Chandler. It's been so long, I've forgotten how obsessed I used to be with them. I blame long semester-system college summers and my recent acquisition of all 10 Friends Season DVDs, heehee. Had to get the storyline onto paper - or e-paper, whatevs - before it faded. Takes place in Season 9 - soon after Chandler and Monica marry and Rachel has Emma. It's all Randler; sorry, Mondler fans. :( Hope everyone enjoys, regardless!

Four letter word for 'fencing sword', Chandler Bing pondered, squinting at the crossword puzzle in his newspaper. Starts with E… I know this… He squeezed his eyes shut, as if willing the word to materialize behind his eyelids. This word is on the daily crossword at least once a month. It's like the menstrual cycle of the daily crosswords. So why can't I remember it? Agh, it's on the tip of my tongue. Ep…

The door to Central Perk banged open. "Guys! Guys, guys, guys," Rachel Green, in a short white trench coat and, shuffled over – practically ran, really – to their usual couch. "Guys!"

"Damn it!" Chandler cursed, as Rachel's loud interruption caused the word to slip through his cranial grasp. All five friends turned to stare inquisitively at him, including a surprised Rachel. She had been on the verge of sharing some apparently exciting piece of news with them, but currently was standing with her right arm outstretched and cherry lips parted in a small 'O'.

Chandler sat there, frozen for a second or two, then stammered, "I mean, damn it, Rach, you just look fantastic today!"

She regarded her outfit briefly before shaking her head and continuing, "Anyway, so who wants to come to a really exciting company retreat with me tomorrow afternoon?" She clapped her hands and supplied a radiant beam.

Immediately, there was a round of unenthusiastic and evasive responses.

"Oh, come on!" Rachel snapped. "Tomorrow's Saturday!"

"Sorry, Rach," Ross replied. "I have to run – um, a review session for that class that has that exam coming up."

"Me too," Monica piped up. "The restaurant has a private event tomorrow that I have to cook for…"

"Yeah, fine, whatever," Rachel huffed, brushing some blond strands out of her face. "What about you, Chandler? There can't possibly be any emergency at your job, can there? No advertisements that desperately need to be analyzed or something?"

Chandler was tempted to remind her that she still couldn't even name his job, but he decided that that ship had already sailed. Try as he might, he couldn't seem to find a believable excuse.

"Unfortunately, that is true," he sighed, looking resigned.

"Yay!" she squeaked, grinning. "Thank you." She turned to Phoebe and Joey. "What about you guys? I mean, you both only work like two days a month, so you must be free, right?"

"I can't," Phoebe shook her head. "It's the anniversary of my mom's death tomorrow, so Frank and I are going to go over to Ursula's to try to persuade her to film a memorial documentary with us. Like we do every year."

"Oh," Rachel responded, taken aback. "Well, I'm sorry, Pheebs."

"Eh, it's whatever." She smiled and waved a hand dismissively.

"What about you, Joey?"

Joey swallowed his bite of scone. "Sorry, Rach, no can do. I have a date."

"Ugh, Joey!" Rachel stomped a foot lightly. "You can have a date any time. But you'll only have one chance to go on this exciting retreat with me… an all day picnic in Central Park. You know, we're going to have trust games and gifts. Oh, and free food!"

Joey's eyes widened. "Free food?"

"Oh yeah," Rachel nodded fervently. "Turkey sandwiches as far as the eye can see…" She drifted off expectantly.

Joey seemed to think for a while before looking tortured and responding, "I really want to, Rach, but I can't. This girl is amazing. Like, amazing enough to give up turkey sandwiches for. And that's pretty amazing. She's different."

"You mean this one graduated high school?" Chandler quipped.

"Hey, hey!" Joey pointed a warning finger. "Watch it."

"So she did?"

"Well, I didn't say that."

"Okay, okay!" Rachel waved her hands to silence the side conversation. "So none of you can make it except for Chandler?"

A round of guilty mutters went through the group.

The situation suddenly dawned on Chandler. "Well, wait, hold on," he stammered, waving his hands quite frantically. "If I'm the only one that's going, I don't want to go!"

Rachel pursed her lips to the left and folded her arms. "Why is that?"

Chandler froze again. "Uh…" His eyes darted from side to side.

"You can't hang out with me unless someone else is with us?"

"Um, no." He was, once again, caught in an awkward moment. How do I get myself into these stupid scenarios? I hate myself. "I mean, I'll be there?"

Rachel smiled thinly. "Good answer."

Chandler returned the thin, mirthless smile and stared back down at his crossword. Gah, what did I just walk into? An all-day picnic with Rachel. The idea filled him with awkward dread. It wasn't that he didn't like Rachel; in fact, that couldn't be farther from the truth. He loved her; she was a great friend. It was just that, he often felt like he and Rachel didn't have as close a relationship as some other pairs in their group had. Now that he thought about it, throughout the nine years he'd known Rachel, they'd never spent more than a couple of hours together – just the two of them, that is, with no other friends around. And now a whole day? As much as he adored Rachel as a friend, the very idea frightened him.

Apparently, Rachel was thinking the same thing. She stepped over Phoebe's feet and plopped onto the couch next to Chandler. The left side of his body became flush against hers – her stockinged legs against his neat, pleated trousers, and her arms crossing his as she leaned over to squeeze his hands. Chandler turned to see her, a few wispy blond bangs falling in her face, smiling eagerly at him.

"Oh," she sighed happily, rubbing Chandler's hands between hers. "This is going to be just great. It's never just the two of us hanging out! We're going to have so much fun, right, Chandler?"

Chandler forced himself to smile, though he was far more concentrated on Rachel's warm skin on his and how her black pencil skirt seemed to riding dangerously high over her thighs. "Yep," he agreed absentmindedly, tilting his head slightly to, uh, assess the damage her skirt was doing.

Monica noticed first. "Chandler!" she scoffed, slapping the back of his head. "Stop looking up Rachel's skirt!"

"What, wh-what?" Chandler sputtered, trying to recover. "I was doing no such thing!"

Rachel let go of Chandler's hands immediately and stood up, scoffing. "God, Chandler. If I wasn't so desperate for my coworkers to think I had friends, I would totally uninvite you to retreat tomorrow." She grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. "All right, everyone, I'm going to head off now. Chandler, I'll be ready tomorrow at eleven, okay?"

"Okay!" he answered, a bit too quickly.

"And maybe wear long pants or something," Monica supplied helpfully, while shooting Chandler a glare.

The gang said their goodbyes, and Rachel departed into the New York evening.

Everyone turned to stare accusatorily at Chandler. He stared sheepishly back. "Well," he broke the silence awkwardly, "if anyone cares, I just recalled – a four letter word for fencing sword is epee."

(A/N) How was it? I hope you enjoyed it. Please feel free to leave a comment/question/review... they make me very happy and motivate me! Thanks for reading; I'll update soon. (: