Beautifully

Chapter 3: The Date

~.~

"Hey, Phoebs," Chandler greeted Phoebe, the only one present as he walked into Monica and Rachel's apartment wearing the dress pants and shirt Rachel had picked out for him.

"Look at you, all fancy," she looked him up and down.

"Rachel thanks you for that," he smiled at her. "Is she ready yet?"

"Is she ready yet," Phoebe laughed slightly. "Did you just meet Rachel?"

"I'm fifteen minutes late. I planned accordingly," he smiled, looking up as Rachel's bedroom door opened. She walked out, wearing a long, deep blue dress, almost black it was so blue, but just blue enough to bring out her eyes. There was a slit up the back, surely, he thought, surely just to tease men by giving them a glimpse of her legs as she walked, ever so gracefully in the kind of heels that made him grimace to think about a person putting something like that on their feet, but that Rachel walked in as if they were a worn-in pair of sneakers. God, there was something about a woman wearing shoes like that. Hair up. Bare shoulders-

"Close your mouth," Phoebe whispered to Chandler as Rachel walked closer to them, and he did so.

"I-you look," Chandler stumbled over his tongue, which was suddenly posing a problem by simply being in his mouth. It was only Rachel. His tongue should pose no such problems. "I'm really glad you picked out my clothes, because that's definitely the outfit I had planned on wearing, and that would have just been embarrassing if we showed up in the same thing," he shrugged casually, pulling on the coat he had in his hands.

Rachel snickered slightly, picking up her coat from the back of the couch. "I'll take a joke from you as a compliment," she smiled, pulling it on. "Ready?" she asked as she headed towards the door, Chandler not moving from his spot in the kitchen.

"Y-yes," Chandler again found himself fumbling for words, but at least got his legs to work.

"You guys have fun," Phoebe called out as they left.

"Bye, Phoebs," Chandler replied, placing a hand on Rachel's lower back as they walked through the door.

"Bye," Rachel replied as well as they left, Chandler pulling the door shut behind them, pausing as they reached the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, Chandler pulled himself together, reminding himself it was only Rachel, his friend Rachel, Rachel whom he had seen everyday now for well over a year. "You look…beautiful," he breathed out.

"Thank you," she smiled in reply. "From that reaction, I figured you thought as much."

Chandler smiled sheepishly as Rachel linked arms with him, heading down the stairs and out the door. She pulled his body closer to hers as the bite of the December air hit once they were outside, watching as Chandler effortlessly stepped forward and held up his hand, a cab immediately stopping. After living in the city again for a little over a year, Rachel still marveled at some people's ability to get cabs to just…stop. She had learned that, being a pretty girl, she could get people to do all kinds of things for her, but getting a New York City cab to stop was not one of them. But, Chandler, of all people, it seemed, was someone who could.

He held the door open for her as she stepped in, following her quickly and pulling the door shut behind him, though not fast enough to stop the cold air from following them inside. As he gave the driver the address, he slid closer to her on the seat, until his leg was flush up against hers, and for the second time in five minutes, she thought of Chandler Bing as capable of being suave.

Who knew.

~.~

"Wow, you have an actual office," Rachel looked around in disbelief as they slipped into his office to drop off their coats. "With a desk and a window and everything," she continued, slipping her coat off as she walked over to the window.

"And you were expecting…?" Chandler reached for her coat, setting it, along with his coat, on the back of his chair.

"I don't know. Smaller. No window. A cubicle with walls," she shrugged, turning to face him. "No offense."

"None taken," Chandler laughed.

"Just, for how serious you seem to take your job-"

"Yea, no, makes sense," Chandler shrugged, brushing it off. "Are you ready for so much fun you won't be able to contain yourself?" he asked, tone thick with sarcasm, and Rachel laughed.

"Am I ever," she smiled, letting him lead her out of his office and down the hall to where the party was, his hand on her lower back as he did so. She gave him another hypothetical point in her head, wondering if he was really as bad with women as he always claimed to be.

As the warmness of his hand left her back, she stopped, turning to the make-shift bar where he had stopped at to get them drinks. "White, right?" he asked, grabbing a glass of white wine for her and red for himself.

"Right," she smiled, taking the glass as he offered it. "How'd you know that?"

"Oh, I don't know, I've only seen you approximately three hundred sixty four of the last three hundred sixty five days, and I may or may not actually pay attention from time to time," he grinned, taking her hand, noticing that a few people were looking over at them and had noticed him coming in with her. "What?" he asked, off of the look she was giving him.

"Nothing," Rachel shook her head, trying to clear it as she took a drink, letting the sweet wine flow over her tongue. He seemed different tonight, but she wasn't sure exactly how to describe it. Maybe it was just the idea that Julie planted in her head earlier. Or, maybe it was something else. "It's just…you're slightly unpredictable," she finally added.

"Huh," Chandler thought that through, taking a drink of his own wine. "Oh, no."

"What?" Rachel looked over to where he was looking, a tall, red-haired woman walking towards them.

"That's Randy," he looked quickly at the woman and then back to Rachel. "She will talk for hours. Avoid eye contact. Maybe she won't come over here," he added quickly, attempting to turn away.

Rachel glanced up, where Randy was still heading towards them. "Too late."

"Brace yourself," Chandler said softly, leaning slightly closer to Rachel. Rachel squeezed his hand before releasing it, leaning into him and allowing his arm to slip around her waist, the feeling of his fingertips again playing against her lower back interrupting all other thoughts and making it hard to concentrate on the conversation at hand.

Unpredictable, indeed.

~.~

"Um," Rachel scanned the room, her vision landing on a pretty girl around their age, standing on the opposite side of the room talking to a couple of men. "Her. What's her story?"

"Jessica," Chandler smirked. "Female version of Joey."

"Huh," Rachel nodded, scanning the room for the next victim of their gossip, glad that after mingling for a while, Chandler was indulging her love of gossip by telling her the inside scoop on all of his colleagues. "Her," she then nodded to a slightly more homely looking woman who was probably in her late forties.

Chandler laughed, leaning back against the desk behind them. "Ally. She…has so many cats, the health department is probably going to show up any day now."

Rachel laughed at that as well, again scanning the room as she finished off her current glass of wine, this time nodding to a man standing by himself in a corner. "Him?"

"That's Mitch," Chandler leaned closer to Rachel as he took her empty glass from her, setting it beside his empty glass on the desk, talking slightly quieter this time. "I've never had an actual conversation with him. Actually, I'm not sure he talks to anyone. I'm pretty sure it's eventually going to come out that he's a serial killer."

"So glad you would bring me somewhere that there's a serial killer," Rachel cocked her head to the side.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Chandler smiled, and Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Okay, well, I can run really fast, and I'll try to let you keep up."

Rachel laughed at that, looking to the middle of the room at what had become, thanks to the open bar, a make shift dance floor, a few couples now dancing.

"Dance?" she suggested, nodding in that direction as a slow song began playing.

Chandler made a face at that. "I don't dance."

"Says the man who owes me."

"You really want to waste that on dancing with me?" Chandler raised his eyebrows, and watched as Rachel thought that one over. "Didn't think so." Rachel didn't respond, but instead tried her best puppy-dog look on him. Sad eyes, slight pout, that look had gotten her through her first twenty-three years of life.

Chandler sighed. Damn her. She was good at that. "Fine," he stood up from where he had been leaning back against the desk, letting her pull him over to the dance floor. "That guy?" he whispered against the back of her neck, motioning to a couple dancing as they walked over to the dance floor, "that's not his wife…."

Rachel smiled at that as they stopped walking, sighing with content as Chandler slid his surprisingly strong arms around her waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, the silk of his dress shirt sliding across them.

"It's funny," Rachel finally said quietly, smiling up at him.

"What?"

"Seeing a side of you I haven't seen before."

"What's funny about it?"

"For one, people call you 'Mr. Bing,'" she laughed. "So official."

"Only the ones who are trying to suck up to me," he laughed, as well.

"And there's another one. You have people trying to suck up to you," Rachel continued. "I, on the other hand, am a waitress. I don't know that there's anyone in the world who would try to suck up to me."

"Busboys?" Chandler offered.

"I bus my own tables," Rachel shook her head.

"Oh," Chandler replied, stopping racking his brain for something that would make her feel better about that as she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest, his heart skipping a beat as she did so. She had been a good sport all night, meeting his co-workers, who were everything from boring to crazy, and smiling and laughing politely as they made small-talk. Besides owing her, he made a mental note to do something nice for her for playing along with being his girlfriend for the night.

Rachel, however, was thinking that she had seen not only one side of Chandler she hadn't seen before, a Work Chandler, but a second side of him: Date Chandler. And, rather surprisingly, he wasn't bad at it. He held her hand, he kissed her cheek, he made sure she was included in the conversations with his colleagues, and the way he brushed his fingertips across her lower back from time to time made her wonder if there was any way in hell he was as bad at the whole dating thing as he claimed to be. And he was surprisingly charming chatting with his colleagues, not trying to hard to be funny, like he too often seemed to do.

But, he was funny. And tall, Rachel suddenly noticed, realizing how much taller he was than she. Had he always been that tall? And his shoulders seemed wider than she remembered. Maybe he just always projected a much smaller image of himself, and that was why.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," Chandler finally said softly, interrupting Rachel's internal inventory of him.

Rachel leaned back, only slightly, looking up at him, small smile playing on her lips. Had his eyes always been that blue, too? Maybe he had always been that tall, but if his eyes had always been that blue, she surely would have noticed before that moment. Sometime in the past year, or on one of the many times meeting him when they were younger, she would have noticed.

Or, maybe it was just that she had never seen this side of him, never considered this side of him before. Chandler Bing was a man. A tall man, a funny man, a…sexy man? A man whose arm around her all night had been sending butterflies racing through her stomach, and whose smile suddenly made her heart race.

"I had fun," she finally replied, finding her voice somewhere in the bundle of nerves that was her stomach at the moment. She wanted to attribute the knot in her stomach he was suddenly causing to the one-too-many glasses of wine she had drank throughout the night, but she knew she wasn't drunk. Slightly buzzed, but not drunk. This was an entirely different feeling, an entirely different rush.

"Really?" Chandler asked, not convinced she was having fun.

And, there it was, the reason he didn't do better with women: lack of self-esteem.

"Really," Rachel replied as sincerely as she could, and the look in her eyes, the intensity she was looking at him with, made him forget for a split second that this wasn't a real date. As the song that was playing ended, fading into a faster-paced song, the two continued dancing closely, holding the gaze.

He could almost swear she wanted him to kiss her.

And, he was pretty sure that at that moment, he wanted to kiss her, too. He'd honestly never really thought of her that way. Or, even more honestly, never allowed himself to think of her in that way. Ross had always liked her, and, besides, she was not at all his type.

But, at that moment, god, did he want to kiss her.

But, she was Rachel. Surely, he thought, surely, she didn't want to kiss him. That was a crazy thought. Ha! Rachel Green wanted to kiss him. She could, in all certainty, have any man in the room, and she wanted to kiss him. Him, Chandler. He was only Chandler. Her goofy friend Chandler.

That look, though…her fingertips lightly brushing the back of his neck sending goosebumps up his spine….

And she leaned in, against him completely, the curves of her body fitting into all the right places in his body as she rested her head in the crook of his neck. Chandler fought with himself over a sudden inability to swallow. He rested his cheek against her hair, breathing in her sweet scent. It was the middle of December, but, god, she smelled like summertime.

He leaned back slightly, so she looked up. Fingertips still sliding up and down his neck, eyes softer now….

If Rachel Green wanted him to kiss her, who was he to turn her down?

Chandler hesitated for only a moment before closing the very small distance between them, brushing his lips slowly across hers, waiting for a reaction to tell him he had read every signal she just gave him wrong. But the moment their lips met, she was no longer Friend Rachel, and he was no longer Goofy Chandler. They were RachelAndChandler. And as lips parted, where they were was at least partially forgotten, hearts racing as they stopped moving, Chandler's hands on either side of her face, hers still on his neck.

And then Randy's voice, somewhere in the near distance, brought them back to the party.

Chandler pulled back slightly, completely out of breath, ready to apologize in case he had been completely mistaken by her look, but she had been too wrapped up in the kiss as well to need an apology. Rachel bit her bottom lip sheepishly as she leaned slightly away from him, glancing around the room.

Chandler cleared his throat, glancing around as well. "I think we were just that couple," he whispered, leaning closer to her. Rachel laughed slightly at that, noticing a few people had been watching them.

They certainly knew who was going to be the topic of gossip on Monday morning.

Chandler paused, looking at his shoes, unsure of himself and if the following sentence would be taken in the wrong way. Or, moreover, if he wanted it to be taken in that way.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he asked slowly, and was nothing but relieved when Rachel eagerly nodded, taking his hand as they headed back to his office for their coats.

Chandler grabbed Rachel's coat, holding it out to help her put it on. Rachel accepted, slipping her arms into it, the two now awkwardly silent. As his fingertips brushed her bare shoulder, though, she turned to face him.

"Sorry," he whispered, not sure if he was apologizing for the kiss or the awkwardness, but feeling the need to get that word out.

Rachel shook her head slowly before leaning in to kiss him again, though this time not as slow, lips beating down on lips, as if this was what they were meant to have been doing for the past year they had known each other. Chandler moved two steps, pulling Rachel with him, slamming his office door closed as they continued the kiss, his hands wandering from either side of her hips beneath her coat to tangled in her hair, her fingertips clutching the back of his dress shirt.

Why hadn't they been doing this for the past fifteen months they had been living less than one hundred feet from one another?

As the kisses slowed down, Chandler brushed his thumbs across her face, her arms still around him.

Was he just making out with Rachel Green? Was Rachel Green just making out with him? And looking at him in the way that meant she wanted to get out of there with him? That was the look she was giving him, right?

The soft sigh she let out said that if her look didn't.

"Wanna go home?" he whispered, and she nodded, releasing her arms as he moved to get his own coat, her hand finding his again as they headed out of his office and towards the door.

The cab ride home was short, Rachel's body pressed against Chandler's in the backseat, her hand resting on his knee, his around her securely. They didn't say a word, though the earlier awkwardness had been erased by the making out that followed, they were simply silent, eagerly awaiting arriving home.

And when they got there, they made their way up the stairs, hesitating between apartments. They were slightly closer to his, and Chandler could tell she wanted to come in. She wanted to come in. Rachel Green. Wanted to come inside with him.

"I, uh, I had a lot of fun tonight," Rachel finally said softly, squeezing his hands as she spoke.

"Me, too," Chandler smiled, stepping even closer. He looked down, needing to look away from the wanting look in her eyes. Do you want to come in? He asked in his head, repeated it in his head. Do you want to come in? But he couldn't get the words out. What if she had simply had too much wine and gotten caught up in the moment? What if-

What if her fingertips were still laced between his, and her thumbs were tracing small circles on the sides of his hands. Oh, she was making this hard.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night?" he finally asked slowly.

"I, um, what?" Rachel asked, that question not being the one she expected to follow.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night? I have, um, Knicks tickets, and, um, do you want to, would you want to go with me?" he stumbled over his words, his smoothness from the rest of the night fading.

Rachel smiled at that. A date. He was asking her out on a date.

"I mean, if you already have plans-"

"I don't have plans," Rachel cut him off, recognizing the panic in his eyes. "I'd love to go to the game with you," she smiled.

"Really?" Chandler grinned, and she nodded. "'Kay."

"'Kay," Rachel repeated, and he realized that she still wanted to come in. God, so did he. But, if she came in tonight…this could all be one huge mistake in the morning. One big, huge, awkward, messy mistake. One big, huge, awkward, messy mistake he would have to face everyday.

"Goodnight," Chandler finally whispered, using every ounce of self-control he could muster not to ask if she wanted to come in. He leaned in to kiss her goodnight, brushing his lips against hers, pausing only a moment before pulling back, though that was far from what he wanted to be doing at the moment.

"Night," Rachel whispered in reply, already missing the warmth of his body against hers as he pulled away and stepped back towards his door.

"See you tomorrow," Chandler added, unlocking his door before walking inside.

"See you tomorrow," Rachel echoed, walking to her own door, both of them pausing momentarily before they walked into their own apartments.

Rachel sighed once she was inside, closing the door behind her.

"Hey!" Phoebe greeted Rachel from her spot on the couch.

"Hey," Rachel didn't try to hold back her grin as she sat down beside her, coat still on.

"How was your night, Miss Smiley?" Phoebe asked, turning the volume on the TV down.

"Good," Rachel smiled, nodded, ran through the night in her head. "Really good. But I think…I think I just went on a date with Chandler."

"Wasn't that kinda of the point?" Phoebe asked.

"No, I was just supposed to be his date to the party," Rachel spoke slowly. "But I definitely just went on a date with Chandler."

"Wait, what?" Phoebe now switched off the TV altogether, turning to Rachel, who was still smiling. "What happened? Did he kiss you? Did you kiss him? How did it turn into a date? Why are you home so early?" Phoebe asked eagerly, bouncing slightly on the couch. "I always thought it would be you and Ross and Chandler and Monica, but this works, too. Fill me in!"

"Wait, what?" Rachel shook her head. "Me and Ross?'

"Yea, well," Phoebe shook her head as well. "Not important! What happened tonight with Chandler?"

Rachel smiled, finally sliding her coat off. "I don't know," she shrugged, still grinning hopelessly. "I don't know what happened tonight. I don't know at what point in the night he went from being Chandler to Chandler," she drug out his name, and Phoebe grinned at the reaction. "I just-I saw a different side of him, and…I don't know," Rachel shrugged. "We're going out again tomorrow night."

"Like a date?"

"Very much like a date," Rachel replied, still smiling. "Damn, Julie was right."

"What?"

"Nothing," Rachel shook her head. "I'm going to bed," she stood up.

"Already?"

Rachel again smiled. "You know how when you have a really, really good night, and you don't want anything to ruin it, so you just want to go to bed and have it be tomorrow?"

"Aw," Phoebe smiled. "Rachel and Chandler, sitting in a tree," she began singing playfully.

"Phoebs-"

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G…"

"Good night, Phoebe," Rachel laughed, shaking her head as she headed towards her room.

"First comes love-"

Rachel cut off Phoebe's singing as she closed her bedroom door, leaning heavily against it, head spinning from the events of the evening.

What the hell just happened tonight?