I have to hand it Chandler—he keeps his word. I told him I wanted to spend more time together in public as a couple, and he made it happen.

He was quick about it, too. A couple of days after our trip together, he was waiting for me after I got off a shift at work, ready to take me to dinner. He'd even brought clothes for me to change into.

Now, two or three times a week, we do that sort of thing. I've discovered that I genuinely don't care what it is that we do as long as I get to spend time with him. But that's probably how one our newest favorite clothed pastimes evolved; we ride the subway together.

I'm sure that's the sort of thing that sounds beyond strange to most people, but we discovered that, for all the years we've lived in the City, we've never really explored it. Our need to spend time together has helped us realize what a great place it is we live in, and how much it has to offer.

We usually just hop on the subway, pick a line, then get off at whatever stop sounds interesting at the moment. This has led to the occasional less-than-desirable location, but for the most part, it's been amazing. We stop at food carts, we discover old architecture and odd, out-of-the-way shops, we take pictures of ourselves in front of random places…we're a couple.

The picture thing is the one thing about all this that we nearly had a fight over, which seems silly in retrospect. He thought it was too much of a risk to keep photographic evidence of us being a couple, but I begged (actually begged) for him to understand—I explained that one day, we wouldn't be in hiding and we might like having this sort of memory. So for now, I have a stash of pictures hidden under a pair of shoes in a shoebox in my closet.

Today, though, he took me to the Bronx Zoo. I hadn't been to a zoo since I was little, and never to that particular one, but we had the absolute best time. Even though it was cold and near the end of the zoo's season (I guess the animals have to…hibernate? Maybe it's bad I don't know what they do with these creatures for almost 6 months a year), we just walked around, hand in hand, observing animals in their unnatural habitat. It was such a stereotypical New York thing to do that I half expected to hear a piano score in the background. Except maybe that these aren't the things that New Yorkers do; they're just things people think we do. But I even managed to pull Chandler into a photobooth at one point (though he's fighting me on the pictures less and less these days), so now we have a silly strip of pictures to add to my collection.

I sigh happily and lean my head against his shoulder as the subway jostles us back to Manhattan. "Thank you for today."

He wiggles his fingers against mine, making our joined hands do a little dance. "You're welcome. I had a great time."

"You're just full of surprises, you know that, Chandler?"

"Not really. I just stop by a tourism booth every once in a while to see what else is out there."

I throw my hands—and by extension his hand—in the air in mock-disgust. "Way to ruin the mystery, Chandler. And here I thought you were getting creative on me."

He grins as he leans over to kiss me, and I can't help but marvel in the fact that he's so comfortable with public displays of affection. For all of his insecurities and issues with relationships, he's remarkably at ease with just stopping to kiss me in the middle of the sidewalk whenever the mood strikes him, or taking me in his arms and twirling me around to the music of some street performance we stumble across.

"I'd do anything for you, Monica," he whispers against my lips before kissing me again, and I swear my heart flutters. The feelings I have for this man are so intense that I don't how to handle it most of the time. I've never felt anything like this before. The power of it all should scare me, but for the first time in my life, I feel complete. He's the other half of my heart. I so desperately want to tell him that I love him, but I think he has to be the one to say it first. If I tell him before he's ready to hear it, he'll bolt, and that would crush me. I can live with being in love with Chandler and not telling him; I can't live without him, though.

He pulls back and smiles at me again before leaning his head back against the window of the subway car. I lean my head against his shoulder once more, then smile when I feel him shift a bit so his head is resting against mine. In a little while, we'll get off at our usual stop, then head to the store to buy a few groceries as some sort of cover as to why we're out together. In a little while, we'll go back to pretending that we're just friends.

But for now, I look at our reflection in the window across from us—the two of us leaning against each other, my legs crossed nearly on top of his, Chandler's eyes closed and a happy little smile on his face, and the big toothy grin on my face.

I really like what I see.

*A/N…okay, so I've never been to the Bronx Zoo, but I know it's a thing. I even checked to make sure there was a subway line out to it. I have no idea if there was a picture booth there in the 90s, but it's probably a safe assumption. Also, this is the first time I've written them fully clothed! Yay for personal growth!