AN: This takes place in TOW The Cheesecakes. Slight AU- Joey never saw them eating the cheesecake off the floor, and never joined them. And if the beginning anf the end seem abrupt and like the middle of a story except of a one-shot, that's on purpose. This is a hugely "implication" story. You decide how they got to this point in the conversation, and where (if anywhere) it leads, and if it's Chandler/Rachel friendship or what…. :twiddles thumbs and whistles innocently:
"So what is the deal with you two," Chandler asked after a pause broken only by small yet violent arguments over which part of the cheesecake was Chandler's and which was Rachel's. "You and Ross," he clarified when she didn't answer.
Rachel took a long, shuddering breath, and absentmindedly gathered the remaining crumbs from the floor, holding the cupped in her hand. The garbage can suddenly seemed miles away. "I love Ross," she said finally, "just… not in the way I'm supposed to."
"I wasn't aware that there was a way you were supposed to love someone," Chandler said archly, raising an eyebrow (a gesture that was lost on Rachel, who still hadn't looked up).
"Neither was I," Rachel muttered bitterly not quite under her breath, before straightening and continuing in a louder tone, "You know when you read one sentence and it hits you like a ton of bricks, when he seems real and everything seems real...like Heaven on earth. Or…" she trailed off, searching for a less corny analogy, "Or when you have a bite of cheesecake and you swear it's the best thing you've ever taste? That's love, Chandler."
Chandler avoided her eyes, absently tracing a smiley face that had been carved into the molding. "So…what d'you feel with Ross? If it's not…that."
'He was giving her a way out,' Rachel realized. He was giving her a chance to say that she still was desperately in love with Ross; that she still contemplated making a dartboard with Emily's face on it; that she still stayed up late into the night crying over Phoebe's stupid analogies and cursing the fact that Ross was allergic to lobster. Of course, he couldn't know that. Chandler would think of love as something squeaky clean and sugar-coated, like his relationship with Monica always seemed to be.
…then again, almost nothing was as it appeared.
Rachel clenched her hands tightly together, watching the whiteness seep across her knuckles. After watching her for a moment, Chandler gingerly reached out and rested his fingers on her wrist, snapping her back to reality with an unpleasant thud. "When you eat and you eat and you don't get any fuller, and you read page after page and none of it sinks in. And when you're spinning so fast you can't stop and nothing seems real…."
"Yeah…."
"That's how it feels with Ross. It's like I don't have any control of my life anymore. I mean, he was already so deeply in love with me when I didn't even know the color of his eyes, or that he was so proud of his mustache just because as a kid, Richard was his biggest role-model, or…we're just not on the same page anymore. He's just…well, I'm sure you can imagine. Ross has always read faster than me. And you guys…you all think I should be with him, too, even now. I used to think it was just a running joke, but you're still doing it. I have expected something like this to happen, when everyone kept mentioning Phoebe's lobster theory long after we broke up. …"
"We don't do that anymore," Chandler said unconvincingly. Rachel snorted.
"Monica had a "girl talk" with me and told me I should get back together with him at our last girls' night out."
"And when was that, like September?" Chandler encouraged. "I'm sure by now…."
"This was last Monday, Chandler!" Rachel exclaimed, tears stinging her eyes.
"Hey, I'm sorry!" he said in a panic. She inwardly cursed her tendency to burst into tears at any remotely emotional situation.
"None of this is your fault."
(Don't pretend this never happened when we go back inside. Don't you dare encourage Monica to encourage Ross.)
"I'm sorry," he said again, with a sort of quiet desperation, brushing away her tears with lightly callused fingers.
Rachel attempted a weak smile. "It's all right."
(Pleasedon'tleavemepleasedon'tleavemepleasedon'tleaveme.)