Sometime Around Midnight

Chapter 4: Streetlight People

~.~

It's a slight blow to my ego to only get one review for a chapter I didn't even like, ha, but I'm going to keep on posting, anyway….

~.~

"Sorry you got stuck with just me tonight," Chandler apologized to Rachel over dinner at a pizza place down the street from their building that different combinations of the six of them found themselves at many a Friday night.

"That's okay," Rachel shrugged. "Out of you guys, Ross only got his sister, so I still came out on top."

"Right," Chandler nodded, taking a bite of pizza.

"Besides, I'm almost sure there are worse people to get stuck with on a Friday night than you."

"Oh, really. Like who?"

"Oh, ya know," Rachel took a drink of her soda in front of her, "Paul Bundy, Jack the Ripper…."

"Are those the only serial killers you can name off the top of your head?"

"Jeffrey Dahmer," Rachel thought for a moment. "Yea, that's all I've got."

"Well, glad I beat their company, at least," Chandler laughed, pausing as the waiter came to refill their drinks, taking a rather long time to do so. "Thanks."

"Thank you," Rachel added as well, waiting for the slightly creepy man to walk away. "You know who he always reminds me of?" Rachel leaned in closer.

"That bartender? From that bar in college-"

"Across the street from campus! Yes!" Rachel nodded eagerly, glad she wasn't the only one to see it. "God, what was the name of that place?"

Chandler thought that through as he chewed, finally shaking his head. "Got me."

Rachel racked her brain for the name of the bar as well, coming up with nothing. "Wanna go by there when we're done here and see?"

"Oh, yea, definitely."

~.~

"Okay, it was definitely not called Burger King," Chandler let out a sigh of defeat, staring up at the sign.

"How could they close that place!" Rachel exclaimed, staring up at the sign as well.

"I don't know, it was clearly so memorable, we can even remember the name of it," Chandler replied sarcastically, and Rachel glared at him. "Hey, wanna keep walking? Find another college bar we'll be entirely too old to be at?" he asked as he turned to continue on down the street.

"Hey, what did I say about using the 'o' word?" Rachel warned, following after him.

~.~

Chandler stood impatiently at the bar trying to get one of the bartenders' attention, suddenly remembering how frustrating crowded college bars could be and why he was definitely too old to go to them. He sighed impatiently, so Rachel grabbed his arm, moving in front of him and pulling him with her as she effortlessly pushed through the crowd and up to the bar, directly in front of where the bartender was standing.

"What can I get for ya?' he asked as Rachel flashed a grin, leaning forward to order. Chandler watched in disbelief as Rachel handed him a drink and a shot seconds later, taking them from her as she grabbed each of her own and they retreated from the bar.

"How did you-"

"Being a pretty girl," Rachel interrupted him as she darted for a table she saw people leaving from, "does not hurt in moments such as this," she grinned, sitting down on a barstool at the table and setting her drinks down. "Or for getting out of speeding tickets," she added as Chandler pulled up a barstool beside her.

"To being a pretty girl, apparently," Chandler held up his drink.

Rachel looked at him. "Are you a wuss? Take the shot first," she held up her shot glass, clinking it to his as he did the same, both of them taking the shots quickly.

"Really?" Chandler made a face, chasing the shot with whatever was in the other glass, "vodka?"

"When in Rome," Rachel shrugged, motioning to the college bar they were in.

"That," Chandler set the other glass down after taking a drink, "is nothing but alcohol."

"It's a dollar Manhattan Iced Tea. Apparently it's the Friday night special," Rachel shrugged, taking a drink of hers.

Chandler laughed, looking around the bar and feeling a bit ridiculous since they were both obviously a bit older than the barely-legal crowd around them. "Do you feel like you're twenty-one again yet?"

Rachel laughed, as well, glancing down at her watch as they announced that karaoke would be starting in ten minutes, and to get names in now because spaces fill up fast. "Oh, do I ever," she again laughed. "Twenty bucks says you won't sing," she motioned up to the stage and the crowd of people who were getting their name and songs in to sing as she playfully took the straw in her drink between her teeth.

Chandler shook his head. "I don't need twenty dollars that badly." He took another drink of his drink. "A few more of these and I might be easier to convince, though."

Rachel smirked.

"That wasn't a challenge."

Rachel set down her drink, slipping off the barstool.

"Rach-"

"I'm just getting another round," she smiled innocently, motioning to the bar.

~.~

Rachel hadn't known that Chandler was competitive at all. Maybe it was because Monica was competitive enough for the entire group. Maybe it was because he rarely let his guard down enough for anyone to know that about him.

But, whatever the case was, after a few more rounds of shots and Manhattan Iced Teas, and calling Chandler girly for chasing his shots with the Manhattan Iced Teas, and calling him even more of a girl for not getting up there and singing….

Somehow, Rachel had broken him down. And with a wager of doing dishes at Rachel and Monica's for a month and the next round of drinks on the table, Chandler had given in.

He was now onstage. He had only sung karaoke at a bar before once in his life. It was at Ross's bachelor party. And enough alcohol had been consumed that they all should have probably been comatose in the morning. He hated singing in front of anyone. He knew very well he was able to sing, but still hated it.

Luckily, he was enough drinks into the night that he was just past the point of caring about that. Walking over to the microphone as the first few chords of his song of choice began to play, he grinned and shook his head at Rachel, who had moved to a table closer to the stage, his blue eyes glistening under the bright stage lights in the otherwise dimly lit bar.

He took a deep breath, licked his lips, and began to sing.

Just a small town girl
Livin' in a lonely world
She took the midnight train goin' anywhere

Rachel froze, staring up as he began to sing.

Chandler Bing could sing. The other groups around the stage, namely, the groups of girls, began to quiet down as well, listening and watching as the man on stage sang.

A singer in a smoky room
The scent of wine and cheap perfume
For a smile they can share the night
It goes on and on and on and on

Good lord, the man could sing. His vocal ability rivaled Steve Perry's for the song. How did she not know this about him? In all of the years she had known him, how could she have completely missed this fact?

The girls around her were whispering, all apparently regulars, as were most of the people who sang, she gathered from the conversation, and they were trying to figure out who, exactly, this "hot guy" who could sing was.

Chandler was hot? Apparently. Or at least to these at least slightly intoxicated college girls. Rachel stared up at him as he continued to sing. Yes. Yes, he definitely was.

Strangers waiting
Up and down the boulevard
Their shadows searching in the night
Streetlight people
Living just to find emotion
Hiding somewhere in the niiiii-iiight

And, said hot guy was staring at her as he sang. Crooned. It was more like crooning, the way he sang. His voice hitting every note, smooth, flowing like molasses. Or dark chocolate. The kind of smooth you could just soak up. Was his voice this smooth when he spoke, too?

And his eyes, his deep blue eyes, shining in the stage lights playfully as he smiled down at her. Were his eyes always so blue?

And then the crowd picked up in volume, singing along with him as he neared the end.

Don't stop believin'
Hold on to this feelin'
Streetlights, people...

As the song faded, he jumped off stage, thanking the crowd quickly through the cheering before making his way back over to Rachel, seemingly embarrassed.

"I hate you," he whispered, leaning close to her, though the playful look in his eyes said differently. "What?" he added, when Rachel failed to respond, still staring at him in disbelief.

"You can sing," Rachel said, astonished.

Chandler gasped. "Is that what I was doing up there?"

Rachel tilted her head to the side.

"Thanks," he smiled, eyes softening a bit as he did. "So I've been told."

"No, Chandler," Rachel shook her head. "You can sing. Like, if you ever get tired of…whatever the hell it is you do with numbers," she shook her head again, pointing towards the stage, where another, slightly less well-versed singer had taken over, "that is what you could be doing."

"Singing karaoke professionally?"

"Are you physically unable to take a compliment?"

"Yes, but the doctors are working on it," Chandler smirked, and Rachel hit him playfully on the arm. "I believe part of the deal was another round of drinks?" Chandler motioned to the empty glasses on the table, shifting the conversation, and Rachel smiled, letting him.

"Be right back," she smiled, making her way back over to the bar.

"Dude." Rachel turned around as an obviously intoxicated girl, who might barely pass for being twenty-one tapped her on the shoulder as she made her way back to their table from the bar, drinks and shots balanced carefully in hand. "Your boyfriend is hot and can sing. Marry him," she nodded, her friend nodding eagerly along before heading on their way.

Rachel laughed at the two girls, watching them retreat for a moment, arm-in-arm, laughing to one another before heading back to her table.

"You could have any girl in here you wanted right now," Rachel smirked at him, setting one of the shots and drinks in front of him.

"Right," Chandler laughed, unconvinced.

"Seriously, Chandler. They are all swooning right now," she picked up her shot glass, holding it up.

Chandler clinked his glass to hers before taking it, smiling slightly after. "I made you swoon a little bit," he smirked, taking a long drink, the Manhattan Iced Tea going down much more smoothly now.

Rachel looked down, feeling the flush of her cheeks and neck; Chandler smiled at the reaction.

~.~

"Why is there so much rain?" Rachel asked overdramatically as they made their way out of the bar a few hours later, having closed the bar down with a group of girls who referred to Chandler as the "hot singing guy," and, therefore, kept buying him drinks. However, after a few rounds, he had started passing half of them off to Rachel, unsure how he lacked the drinking ability to keep up with a group of girls only five years younger than himself.

Chandler shrugged, staring out at the sheets of pouring rain, the buildings across the street barely visible. "Are you gonna get a cab?" Rachel asked, nodding towards the street, not about to go out in the rain.

"Yea, okay," Chandler laughed at her, not wanting to go out in the pouring rain, either. "Only if you come with me," he grabbed her hand.

"What?" Rachel shrieked, pulling back, but he was stronger, not letting go.

"You keep calling me a wuss tonight. I took vodka shots. I sang karaoke. And you, Miss Green, are not going to melt in the rain," he playfully pulled her with him out into the pouring rain, and she resisted for only a moment before allowing him to pull her with him into the rain, arm raised, as a cab pulled up. Chandler opened the door, letting Rachel crawl in first, following quickly behind.

He told the driver where they were heading, scooting closer to Rachel on the seat, feeling her shiver from the rain, both of them soaked from the short walk. Chandler wrapped an arm around her, and Rachel smiled at the feel of his body heat, glancing out the window.

"Hey!" she pointed out the window to the group of people standing under a streetlight smoking in the pouring rain. "Streetlight people! Like in the song."

"It's streetlights, people. Not streetlight people."

"Pretty sure it's streetlight people," Rachel shook her head.

"Pretty sure you're wrong."

"Oh, but I'm positive I'm right," Rachel grinned. "Positive trumps pretty sure."

"It's too bad you're wrong, then," Chandler shrugged.

Rachel squinted her eyes. "What are we arguing about?"

"The streetlight people."

"So, you admit I'm right then."

Chandler laughed, shaking his head. "You've been living with Monica for too long. She's rubbing off on you."

Rachel shook her head. "If that were the case, I would be capable of making grilled cheese without setting off the smoke detectors. Which I did yesterday." Chandler laughed, and Rachel relaxed into the seat, leaning her head against Chandler's shoulder. "Why don't we hang out more?"

"Rach, I don't know what your definition of 'hanging out' is, but I'm pretty sure that's all we do."

Rachel rolled her eyes, lifting her head to look up at him. "You and me, not the six of us."

"Oh," Chandler replied. "Yea, we don't, do we?"

"We should," Rachel nodded, again leaning her head against his shoulder, cuddling against him for warmth. "It's nice."

Chandler smiled, tightening his arm around her, cold also from the rain. "It is."

Rachel closed her eyes momentarily, letting Chandler's body heat mixed with the feeling of the car ride and sound of the steady rain all but lull her to sleep on the rest of the short drive home, her head too fuzzy to fight it.

"Rach," Chandler nudged her slightly, and Rachel immediately sat up straight, realizing they were home.

"Do we have to go out there again?' Rachel groaned, not wanting to go back out in the rain.

"Unless you want me to keep the meter running," the driver butted in in a thick accent, and Rachel shot him a dirty look before motioning to Chandler to get out.

"On the count of three," he looked back at Rachel, "we run for the door. One," he reached for the door handle with his left hand. "Two," he took her hand in his right hand. "Three," he opened the door, the two of them stumbling out, darting for the building, still hand-in-hand.

The second they were out of the cab, though, Rachel landed in a puddle, water splashing up at them as Rachel nearly collapsed in a fit of laughter, tripping in the hole responsible for the puddle. Chandler caught her arm, laughing just as hard as he pulled her with him, across the sidewalk and under the overhang of the building, running at full-force. Chandler landed, back against the wall, and Rachel let him pull her in, landing against his chest, his shirt soaked. Chandler smiled down at her as they both struggled to catch their breath from laughing, his hands on either side of her hips as she leaned against him, her soaking wet shirt devastatingly teasing.

Rachel smiled, staring into his eyes as the laughing subsided, wondering, for the second time that night, how she had never noticed how blue his eyes were before. And his voice—yes, his voice was always that smooth and intoxicating. And his fingers, his fingers were playing with the fabric of the bottom of her shirt, but she knew the feeling of his strong fingers raking through her hair, digging into her thighs….

And she knew that look. The softening of his eyes, his smile. Last weekend, after she had initiated an innocent kiss, she had every reason in the world to stop it. But, tonight, if he were to kiss her….

Tonight had felt like a date. And this felt like the end of a date. A very fun date she didn't want to end. And, from the look he was giving her, neither did he.

The thought momentarily crossed Chandler's mind that for the past week, while he'd been flirting with Monica just slightly more than usual, being a bit sweeter, trying to show her that he was, in fact, boyfriend material, he might very well have been putting his efforts towards the wrong girl.

He'd never thought of Rachel like that. Never considered the possibility of Rachel Green. And there were probably a million and one reasons for that, but he couldn't come up with one right now.

Chandler slid his thumbs up the curve of her waist, stopping just below her ribcage, eyes still locked, each one daring the other to make the first move, knowing they both knew that's where it was heading.

"You have really pretty eyes," Rachel finally whispered, and over the pounding of the rain, it was barely audible.

"You have really pretty," Chandler paused, looked her up and down, unable to decide which body part won, "everything…."

Rachel's mouth curled into a soft smile at that, knowing what was coming next, and doing nothing to stop it.

As he leaned in, hot breath against the coolness off her cheek, he hesitated. Rachel responded by wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling his shoulders move beneath his soaked shirt as he pulled her even closer, the warmth of his mouth shocking against hers in the cold rain.

"Upstairs," Chandler finally whispered against her ear, his warm breath teasing against her neck as he planted a kiss just below her earlobe, and Rachel nodded, hand still entwined with his as they made their way upstairs and into his apartment. The second the door was closed and locked, wet shoes were kicked off and soaked shirts were peeled off, leaving layers of goosebumps on damp skin as the two made their way, still kissing, towards Chandler's bedroom.

The kissing, however, came to a sudden halt as they crashed backwards into the entertainment center in the dark living room since it was blocking three-fourths of Chandler's doorway. Rachel nearly collapsed in another fit of laughter, Chandler holding her up, pinned against it, as he laughed, as well, drinking in her laughter. God, she had a beautiful laugh. All these years, he had been aiming to make the wrong girl laugh, always quite proud of himself when he'd get a laugh and "Monica look" after making a joke. Rachel's laugh, though….

Her laugh was beautiful, and intoxicating…and contagious. The more Rachel laughed, the harder Chandler laughed, until they were both reduced to tears, gasping for air, still leaning up against the entertainment center.

As they both stopped laughing and caught their breath, Chandler smiled down at Rachel nervously, feeling slightly more sober now that they were back home, though the fits of laughter proved otherwise. "Hi," he whispered, arms still around her, hands resting on her bare lower back.

"Hi," Rachel repeated softly, a warmness in her eyes he didn't recognize, as she ran her fingertips down his bare chest and across his stomach, leaving a path of gooesbumps behind. Chandler smiled as she wrapped her arms around him, missing the warmth of his skin on her own.

Chandler finally leaned down to kiss her again, taking the step and a half to the side so they could go into his room, kicking both halves of his door shut behind them.