Sometime Around Midnight
Chapter 2: Couple Number Dos
~.~
So…I started this a super long time ago. And abandoned it because I didn't like where I was going with it. But, I suddenly decided, hey, I have the better part of the next three and a half chapters of this written, just sitting on my hard drive, so, before I go and start another fic, I should probably post them and finish this.
So, I am.
~.~
Rachel sighed, staring at Ross's closed door for a moment longer before heading down the hall, deciding to go for a walk on the beach and pout instead of staying in her room to pout, because that somehow seemed to make the act less juvenile. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, though, she was surprised to see Chandler standing by the counter, attempting to make a card-house out of the deck of cards that Joey had made out of paper. When it fell down and he sighed in frustration, she let out a small laugh, causing him to look up.
"Sorry," she apologized for laughing at him, walking over to join him. "Couldn't sleep?"
"No, someone upstairs kept yelling," Chandler offered a soft smile, and Rachel smiled back slightly in apology. "You okay?" he asked, going back to attempting to build his card house.
"I don't know," Rachel sighed. "Yes. No. Maybe," she again sighed heavily.
Chandler laughed. "Yes, those are the three possible ways to answer that question…."
"Shut up," Rachel laughed as well, heading over to the refrigerator. "There is still one full bottle of margarita mix and half a bottle of tequila," she grabbed both. "Care to drown some sorrows with me?"
"I suppose I could find a few sorrows to drown," Chandler laughed, but then groaned in frustration as his card house again fell down. "Stupid fake cards," he pushed them aside before turning back to Rachel, who was pouring the mix and tequila into the blender. "Whoa, using enough alcohol?" he asked as she poured nearly half of what was left in the bottle into the blender before adding ice.
"I'm just making margaritas," Rachel turned to him. "If you have a problem with that, I don't have to share with you."
"So, you're just gonna sit here and drink alone, then?" Chandler asked as Rachel turned on the blender, grabbing a glass.
"Fine," Rachel grabbed him a glass, too. "But, I hate men tonight, so be nice," she pointed her finger at him warningly before turning the blender off and pouring some into each of their glasses. "Here's to screwing Ross," she held up her glass.
"Figuratively, I hope," Chandler added, and Rachel scowled at him. "Right, screw Ross," Chandler held his glass up to hers, adding, under his breath, "those damn Gellers."
"What?" Rachel asked, looking up at him after taking a drink.
"What? Nothing," Chandler shrugged off her question, taking a drink as well, but coughing at how strong it was. "Oh my god," he coughed again, making a face.
"Something wrong with my margaritas?" she raised her eyebrows at him.
"Nope," he shook his head fiercely. "Though they may require a drinking game to finish," he made a face as he attempted to take another drink. "Go Fish?" he asked, holding up the cards.
"Really? Go Fish is the best drinking game you could come up with?" she stared at him. "Is that even a drinking game?"
"Rach, did you not go to college?" he asked, beginning to shuffle the cards. "Anything can be turned into a drinking game…."
"Didn't Joey say that last night?"
"No, he said that anything can be turned into a stripping game," Chandler corrected her as they both sat down at the table. "I'll let you keep your clothes on," he winked at her jokingly, beginning to deal out the cards.
"Always the gentleman," Rachel shook her head at him, picking up the cards in front of her before taking another drink of her margarita.
~.~
Rachel woke up, head pounding so loudly she was having trouble hearing her own thoughts. Or, rather, she was having a hard time coming up with a single coherent thought. Groaning, she began to remember the events of night before. Not getting back together with Ross, making margaritas, playing card with Chandler…and that about as far into the night as she could get. Squeezing her eyes shut still, she rolled over, rolling into someone else. Heart pounding, she tried to remember the rest of the night. Did she come back up to Ross's room? Did they make up? She didn't remember. This couldn't be good. What the hell happened after she was playing cards with Chandler?
"I told you that was way too much tequila," Chandler's voice made her jump, though he had spoke barely above a whisper. She turned quickly to face him, but immediately regretted the move, as it left her head spinning even more. Head in her hands, Rachel tried to think quickly, remember any part of the night before that would have left her in bed with Chandler.
"What the hell happened last night?" she finally asked, removing her hand from her head before looking under the covers, noting that they were both fully dressed before breathing out a sigh of relief.
"You mean besides finishing off that bottle of tequila?" Chandler attempted a joke, but Rachel just glared at him, wondering if he felt as horribly as she did at that moment, how he could be making jokes. "Sorry," he added quickly. "I don't know, Rach," he rolled over, burying his head in his pillow. "I don't remember much after we started playing cards," he mumbled into the pillow, and Rachel sighed, the confusion not helping the pounding in her head. Any moment now, her eyes were going to explode, she was sure of it. Making a mental note to herself never to drink again, she closed her eyes, trying to keep down the contents of her stomach.
"I need to go back to my room," she whispered finally, but didn't move to get up, unable to make herself.
"Kay," Chandler mumbled, face still in his pillow. When she didn't move, he looked up slowly, first at her and then at his clock. "It's only quarter til five," he said quietly. "I mean, if you're still as drunk or hungover or on the verge of death or whatever the hell this horrible feeling is as me and can't move, you don't have to quite yet…."
Rachel almost laughed at that, but her stomach told her that wasn't a good idea. Instead she gave him a grateful smile, though his eyes were already closed, before closing her own eyes again and giving in to some much needed sleep….
Rachel woke again two hours later, now finding herself cuddled up beside Chandler, his arm around her stomach. She was still hungover, but now able to function a bit better than earlier, at least enough to get back to her own bed. Trying to get up without waking him, deciding that could lead to nothing but awkwardness, she lifted his arm off of her, rolling out from underneath it. At that action, though, Chandler just rolled closer, fitting his body against hers, still not awake. Rachel stifled a laugh at that, because he had claimed not to be a cuddly sleeper. She would have to tell him differently later.
"Chandler, I need to go," she finally said quietly. "People are going to start getting up."
"Mmm, kay," he mumbled sleepily, moving over enough so that she could get up. "Are you okay?" he added as he stretched, voice hoarse, as she stood up. "I mean, besides being hungover?"
"I will be," Rachel smiled at him. "Thanks for…whatever the hell happened last night. I'm assuming it was fun…."
"Yea, if you figure it out, let me know," Chandler gave her somewhat of a lopsided smile, and Rachel couldn't help but smile wider at that.
"I'll-I'll see you later, okay?" she stumbled over her words, not sure what, exactly, was the cause of the sudden butterfly-feelings in her stomach, but attributing it to her hangover.
"See ya," Chandler mumbled, having already rolled over to go back to sleep.
Rachel tiptoed out of his room, closing the door quietly behind her. Heading down to the kitchen, she decided some sort of painkillers, as well as water, were definitely needed. After searching through a few cupboards, she found a bottle of advil, taking a couple and leaving the bottle out for Chandler to find whenever he wandered downstairs. Turning around at the mess in the kitchen, Rachel groaned. As was clear from the empty tequila bottle, they did, in fact, finish off the tequila. And from the pairs of cards on the table, it looked like Go Fish had been played, as well as some form of the Happy Days game since that was out, as well. Frowning at the scene, she tried hard to remember what had happened the night before.
Deciding that going for a walk on the beach might clear her head, and unable to sleep anymore through the pounding of her head, she headed outside into the cool morning air and down towards the beach.
~.~
Monica and Joey both looked up from the kitchen table as Chandler came down the stairs, still wearing his crumpled up clothes from the day before.
"Are you the maker of the mess?" Monica asked him as he walked over to the counter, grateful that his wish for advil had been magically granted, and a bottle of it was already sitting out.
"What?" he asked, turning slowly to face them.
"The maker of the mess," Joey repeated quietly, motioning to the mess Chandler and Rachel had left from the night before. "Monica's not too happy about it…."
"Oh, I guess I'm half of it," he continued talking quietly. "And, please, stop yelling," he added, sitting down at the table as well, rubbing his temples.
"Who's the other half?" Joey asked.
"Rachel," Chandler mumbled, staring at the glass of water in front of him as he tried to decide if going upstairs to puke would make him feel any better or not.
"What the hell did you guys do last night?" Monica laughed at his current state, starting to pick up the cards on the table.
"Well, we obviously played Go Fish the drinking game, followed by the drinking version of the Happy Days game," he motioned to the table. "While managing to finish the rest of that bottle of tequila," he nodded slightly towards the bottle on the counter.
"So, like, drinking, strip Happy Days game?" Joey nudged Chandler, who shook his head slowly.
"Nope, just drinking Happy Days game."
"Dude, if you play a drinking game alone with a girl, it's supposed to lead to a stripping version of a game…."
"So, did you two just suddenly decide you hate your livers, or…" Monica ignored Joey's comment.
"No, her and Ross had a big fight, so she was really upset," he shrugged, "and I guess I was just along for the ride…."
"Good morning," Rachel walked in the front door in much better shape than Chandler currently was in.
"How are you not about to die?" he groaned, leaning forward with his elbows against the table.
"I guess I can just handle my alcohol better than you," she smiled at him. "Although I did take about eight advil and drank a good gallon of water earlier," she added, sitting at the final spot at the table.
"Sorry about you and Ross," Joey looked at her sympathetically.
"Yea, well," Rachel shrugged, watching as Monica stood up and walked over to the refrigerator.
"Shoot, we're out of soda," Monica sighed in frustration, closing the door again.
"Oh, I'll go out and get you some," Chandler turned around to face her.
"Really?"
"Nope, 'cause I'm not your boyfriend," he smiled at her for only a second before turning back towards Rachel. Rachel caught his eye for a moment before he looked down, and she suddenly remembered what his reason had been for drinking the night before. At his avoidance of any further eye contact, she realized he had remembered it, too.
~.~
"But what'id- what did you mean earlier?" Rachel asked. "Do you have any eights, by the way?"
"Go fish," Chandler shook his head. "And what did I mean by what?"
"What'id you mean by 'damn Gellers?'" Rachel asked, slurring her words slightly. "And you are lying! There are no more fish," she pointed to the table, where there were no cards left.
"I'm not lying," Chandler leaned forward, showing her his cards. Rachel frowned for a moment.
"Oh, wait! I have two eight's!" she laughed, laying the pair down. "Do I drink for that or do you?"
"I think we both drink for that," he grabbed his glass, clinking it to hers before they both took a long drink, the alcohol going down much easier now that they were already drunk. "I'm not boyfriend material," he finally said, and Rachel looked at him inquisitively.
"What?"
"I'm not boyfriend material," he repeated. "Do you have any three's?" he added, and she handed him her three.
"Why not?" Rachel asked.
"Ask Monica," Chandler shrugged, frowning at his cards.
"Why would she know?"
"Because she's the one that thinks it."
~.~
It wasn't that Chandler was upset about not being boyfriend material, no. He was upset that Monica didn't think he was boyfriend material. Looking back up, Chandler caught Rachel's eye for a moment before breaking the eye contact and standing up.
"Well, I'm going to go shower," he mumbled, heading towards the stairs. Rachel started after him, trying to remember other tidbits of the night, but coming up with nothing other than playing card games, drinking, and laughing.
Turning back to Monica, who had gone back to cleaning up the kitchen, Rachel watched her for a moment, wondering if she knew what doing what she probably thought was joking around with Chandler was actually doing to him, and wondering if she liked him, too. Rachel felt a tinge of jealousy at that, but brushed it off. She was all thrown off today; too much drinking and not enough sleep.
"I'm going to go take a nap," she finally announced before heading upstairs, not waiting for Joey or Monica's response to that. At the top of the stairs, as she walked by Chandler's room, he was walking out, about to head down the hall to the bathroom. They both awkwardly tried to move out of each other's way for a moment before laughing.
"Here, you move here," Chandler grabbed her shoulders, moving her over. "And I'll go this way," he grinned, moving past her. As he made eye contact, though, Rachel suddenly realized where the weird feelings for him today were coming from: there had been kissing last night.
At the physical contact with her, Chandler suddenly remembered a few more parts of the night before as well, both of them standing in awkward silence and staring at each other, trying to figure out what to do with that.
~.~
"But why doesn't Monica think I'm boyfriend material?" Chandler asked as he finished off yet another margarita. "We need more margaritas…."
"There are no more margaritas," Rachel, who was now, for some reason or another, actually sitting on the kitchen table, sighed sadly.
"In the world? What will the college kids on spring break drink?" Chandler asked with much seriousness, and Rachel laughed so hard she almost fell off the table, but caught herself before she did.
"Ohh, you're funnier when I'm drunk," she pointed at him, reaching for her glass, but then frowning as she realized it was empty as well.
"I'm funnier when I'm drunk?"
"No, I said it right the first time," Rachel shook her head.
"Huh," Chandler thought for a moment before shaking his head to get back to the topic at hand. "I think we're thinking of this the wrong way."
"Thinking of what?" Rachel looked up from the cards she had been picking up from the table. "The college kids?"
"Why I'm not boyfriend material, c'mon, Rach, keep up," Chandler sighed, leaning onto his elbows against the table.
"Right," Rachel scooted closer to him, crossing her legs and sitting up straight. "Okay, go," she clapped her hands together, ready to listen.
"Okay, I think that instead of focusing on why I'm not boyfriend material, we should focus on what Monica thinks is boyfriend material."
"Okay…."
"Okay, now you go," Chandler looked at her. "You're a woman. What makes a man boyfriend material?"
"Hm," Rachel thought for a moment. "Okay," she again clapped her hands together. "Having a job. You have a job."
"I do have a job," Chandler nodded.
"Um, physical attractiveness, because, we're not gonna lie, looks do matter," she paused, looking him over. "I think you're okay there."
"Not the strongest answer, but okay," Chandler frowned at her.
"Let's see, let's see…"
"Indecisiveness here might help explain why you ended up with Ross…."
"No, you help explain why I ended up with Ross," Rachel looked at him sternly. "I blame you for that."
"What?"
"I didn't like him until you told me he liked me! You and your damn crystal duck theory! All your fault. All of it. The past two years, all your fault," she pointed at him.
"Kind of harsh, but okay," Chandler shrugged. "If that makes you feel better…."
"No, it doesn't make me feel better!" Rachel jumped off of the table. "Us being able to work would make me feel better. Understanding exactly at what point we went wrong, somewhere before the whole, 'we were on a break' fiasco, that would make me feel better. Never being with him and not knowing what I'm missing out on by no longer being with him, that would make me feel better," Rachel ranted, and Chandler watched her pace back and forth, unsure of what to say to that. "You have to have chemistry with someone," Rachel finally said, softer, as she sat down in the chair beside Chandler.
"What?"
"Job," she counted on her first finger, "attractiveness," she held up another finger, "chemistry," she held up a third finger, and Chandler realized she was dropping the subject of Ross.
"Oh," Chandler sighed.
"No, I think you're good there. Me and Phoebs have actually talked about it before, and you two definitely do," Rachel continued, still sounding sad.
"What else?" Chandler urged her on, trying to get her mind off of Ross.
"You have to be able to carry on a conversation with the other person. And, you're kind of a sarcastic pain in the ass-"
"Thank you," Chandler cut her off with a grin.
"You would take that as a compliment," Rachel nodded. "But, sarcastic pain-in-the-ass or not, I think you are capable of conversating."
"Is that a verb?"
"Definitely," Rachel nodded. "Oh! Good in bed. You can't be in a relationship with someone who is horrible in bed."
"Although I've had no complaints, we're definitely getting ahead of ourselves, because she wouldn't know that…."
"Okay, well, kissing is just as or even more important than that. You don't even want to get to that next level with someone if they're a bad kisser," Rachel added, and Chandler looked down. "You've kissed Monica before?"
"Never when both of us are completely sober," Chandler sighed. "So, you think that's it? What if I'm a bad kisser?"
Rachel laughed. "Chandler, I'm pretty sure Monica is just joking around with you. She doesn't think you're being serious."
"I'm not being serious."
"Yes, actually making that list definitely says 'joking around'…."
"Okay, maybe, like, three percent serious," Chandler admitted, pausing for a beat. "What if that three percent is a bad kisser?"
"I'm sure you're not," Rachel sighed.
"Right," Chandler scoffed.
"Kiss me," Rachel scooted her chair closer to him, a phrase clearly brought out by the massive amount of alcohol that had been consumed in the past couple of hours.
"What?"
"Kiss me. Then we'll know if you're a bad kisser," she explained, and though Chandler was just as drunk as she, he was still hesitant, though eventually did lean slowly in, closing the gap between them as he brushed his lips slowly across her. Rachel was just about to tell him he was wrong, that there was nothing wrong with the way he kissed, when she realized that, not only was he not stopping, but she was kissing back. Hurried, drunken kisses, lips pounding down on each other too quickly for her mind to keep up with. And then, his hands on either of her thighs, pulling her forward, off of her chair, on top of him, still kissing. Her hands were on his chest, gripping his shirt, his on the back of her head, raking through her hair, still kissing.
They needed to stop. She clung to that thought, knowing that if she let go for one second, this would go too far. They were both extremely intoxicated and needed to stop before this went any further and they both regretted it in the morning, which they surely would, since neither of them was the one the other wanted to be kissing at that moment.
Slowing the kisses down, Rachel fought herself to take control of the situation, grasping at the last shred of self-control she could find as she finally pulled back, attempting to catch her breath. Staring each other in the eye, they both tried to comprehend what had just happened, but were not in the right frame of mind to figure that out.
Finally, Rachel broke the silence. "Definitely not a bad kisser," she whispered slowly, sliding off of his lap and back to her own chair. "I'd recommend you to a friend," she added with a smirk.
Chandler smiled back, beginning to pick the cards up off the table to play another round. "Thanks."
~.~
"We drank way too much last night," Rachel finally whispered.
"Way too much," Chandler agreed.
"I'm gonna go nap," she pointed to the bedroom down the hall.
Chandler nodded, pointing in the opposite direction. "I'm gonna go shower."
They both headed in their own direction, and that was as far as they got actually talking about anything that may have transpired the night before.
