Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the apartment, just the DVDs. There's no profit except writing practice being made here.

"Hey," Monica nodded to her friend as she walked into their apartment. "Where have you been all day?"

"With Chandler."

Rachel sighed her answer dreamily as she waltzed to her room.

Monica stopped washing up. She dropped the steel wool from her fingers and heard it slap against the surface of the soapy water. She didn't even stop to dry her hands on a dishtowel but turned to face Rachel's retreating form.

"You spent the day with Chandler?"

Rachel swivelled around, a hand pressed against her bedroom door, her hip cocked. "He's really great."

"I know," her voice dropped. He was the only friend she'd ever had who had never aboandoned her for a better offer, or ruined her clothes or furniture with tomato sauce, or scheduled a date when they'd already agreed they'd spend time together. Of course, she knew Chandler was great. But how did Rachel know?

"He set me up on a really great date but totally went about it the wrong way," Rachel told her, leaning against the door frame.

Chandler had set her up? That wasn't like him. He had told Monica, twice, that he would never set her up. Something about all the men he knew being completely boring and not good enough or Joey. She'd always assumed it was so sweet that he thought so highly of her and so little of everyone else. Except he set up Rachel without her having to beg him or bribe him. Clearly, his excuses weren't quite true and Monica had thought wrong.

"It was some guy from his work and it was a great date, really," Rachel's eyes rolled, which Monica expected of her snobbish friend. But then Rachel flapped her hands in mid air, gesturing with her palms up in an utterly Chandler Bing manner that indicated she really had been spending a lot of time with the man. "But it was only great because he told the guy I wasn't looking for anything serious, if you can believe that."

That was the Chandler Monica knew, tactless despite every effort to genuinely help.

"To apologise, he took me to a hockey game,"

"You sat through a hockey game?"

Monica squinted at her roommate. She'd seen Rachel play a baseball game in the park, mostly playing from the bench, and she'd seen her try to be effective in a football game, so Monica knew she'd come a long way from the cheerleader she had known in high school who didn't like to risk her manicure. But Rachel and the brutal sport of hockey, especially the Canadian ice hockey Chandler had converted Ross and Joey to be fans of, just did not compute.

"Yeah," Rachel shrugged. "It was really fun."

Fun? Monica moved a few steps froward and leant her hands on the back of the couch, gripping the hard edge to steady herself. Her voice was barely audible when she managed to ask, "Fun?"

Rachel hummed and flicked her hair over her shoulder as she walked into her room to change.

Monica touched her tongue to her teeth, could feel it making contact with her top lip. Her reflection in the television frowned deeply, dark lines visibly marking the skin around her mouth and eyes. She pulled at the floral upholstery, staring at the purple door, until Rachel re-emerged from her room wearing a pair of cotton pyjama pants and a singlet.

"You went to a hockey game with Chandler?" Monica wasn't totally sure why she was focussing on that aspect of Rachel's day, but she needed to wrap her head around the event, this development.

"Will you get over it?" Rachel sighed, moving her way across the living room to the fridge. "We had a couple beers, a hot dog, and watched a game together. No big deal."

"And then you came in claiming, 'Oh Chandler is great.' Don't forget that part." Monica wasn't too proud of the high-pitched imitation she enunciated with a scowl, her hands thrown up in the air as she tried not to point at her friend, but she couldn't stop herself. There was just something so wrong about the whole thing. "You know he has a girlfriend."

Rachel scoffed, slamming the fridge shut, a bottle of water in her hands. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Monica shrugged. "You've just been spending a lot of time with him ever since Kathy came into the picture."

Rachel's glare was intense as she popped the cap off the water, somehow threateningly. "Yeah, poor boy had a crush and needed a friend. I was there for him, Monica. We're friends. That's what you do for friends."

There had been something so attractive about Chandler when he'd realised that he had a crush on Kathy. He became soft and sweet and scared of hurting Joey. And that moment when he'd knocked on her door, ashamed that he'd bought Kathy a book they both loved for her birthday and she'd known it had been from him not her boyfriend, he'd been so subdued and not the Chandler she knew at all. She'd never seen him so serious about being in love and yet had insisted he wouldn't act on it, trying to be gentlemanly and put Joey's wants before his own. It was only natural if Rachel thought he had been attractive then too.

Except Monica knew how similar Rachel and Chandler were when it came to relationships. Chandler had a tendency to fall rapidly for women who couldn't commit to him for some reason or another. Rachel, on the other hand, had a penchant for almost exclusively lusting after men who had no interest in her. Maybe Chandler was the latest on that short list of men who didn't want her.

Blood drained from Monica lips. She hoped her didn't want Rachel.

Monica shuffled her feet to stand straighter and returned Rachel's glare, resenting the way she intoned her name. "Since when have you and Chandler been friends?"

She knew it was a cheap shot but Monica had always assumed Rachel and Chandler had been more like acquaintances than friends. They had a lot in common but they both had busy lives and other interests.

Rachel shrugged, either not hearing, or not caring about the sharp edge in Monica's voice. "Since my parents divorced, I guess. He was really understanding and helpful. He's a great friend. You know that."

Monica swallowed. There was just something about the way Rachel was rubbing how well she knew Monica's friend in her face that made her skin prickle. Her heart ached at the idea of Rachel and Chandler spending quiet moments alone on the balcony, sharing secrets like she and he did.

Monica wanted Rachel to understand the vice grip around her heart and there was only one way Monica could think of ensuring she did; Ross. Or, even better, the start of her relationship with him.

"Sure, but you have a knack for going after guys with girlfriends." Monica reminded her childhood friend. She didn't need to recount that her longest relationship had started while Ross was still dating Julie or conjure up images of Chip Matthews on prom night, who Rachel had almost immediately forgiven for running off with someone else. There was probably a more serious discussion about Rachel's low self-esteem that they needed to have but Monica filed that away for another time, it was beside the point.

"Ew, Monica," Rachel's face scrunched up and she laughed. "This is Chandler we're talking about."

"What's wrong with Chandler?" Monica shouted, relieved Rachel hadn't defended herself against the barbarous remark Monica vowed to apologise for later.

"Nothing. He's great."

"So why did you say 'ew?'"

Monica had definitely lost track of the conversation.

Her blood had boiled at the idea of Rachel and Chandler spending an evening together and something had flared inside her when she found out they had been drinking together. She knew first-hand how flirty Chandler could get when he'd had a few drinks. She had he used to drink beer around a pool table, lamenting their lack of relationships. He used to take her to hockey games when he had an extra ticket, and she would pretend she was interested just so he'd invite her again the next time his team was in town. Only, ever since Ross and Rachel had broken up, Monica was noticing Chandler was making much more of an effort to spend time with Rachel. He still had time for her, on weekends and after dinners and in the early mornings before everyone else woke up. She'd asked him about it once and Chandler had replied simply that as a group they had gotten pretty good at lifting out people when they broke up with one of them and said something cryptic about not wanting her to lose Rachel again.

Chandler made time for Rachel in his lunch breaks the same way he used to drop into the Moondance Diner to make sure she was enjoying herself despite the horrors of the job. Sometimes Rachel had been with him or already been there, but the two of them had seemed to cut Monica out of those lunches and hadn't dropped a stitch.

Rachel shrugged, eyeing Monica warily. That was a very Chandler thing to do too, use his body to answer a question. "Chandler's like my brother, Mon. I love him but he's mostly annoying."

Monica worked her jaw. Then why did Rachel spend so much time with him? She asked her as much.

"He's a bit of fun, isn't he?" There was that faraway look in Rachel's eyes again as she sipped her water. "He's just a playful little puppy most of the time. He can turn your worst day into your best and I don't even think he knows he's doing it. And God knows I need a bit of fun these days."

Monica blinked at the woman. Was Rachel unhappy? How had she not noticed? She seemed so together, so happy in her new job without Joanna.

Monica was almost glad Rachel had sought Chandler out in that case. She was right, after all. He made an effort to make everyone around him smile. It was his biggest flaw, she thought. Still, Rachel could have come to her. She should have come to her.

"Like, we had a great time tonight," Rachel explained. "Just talking and laughing and him explaining what was going on. He's so much calmer when you get him one on one."

"If you had so much fun, why did you laugh at the idea of being with Chandler?" Monica wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that.

Rachel barely even looked at her, walking around the kitchen with slumped shoulders, like she was exhausted of the roundabout conversation they were having. "He's completely taken with Kathy. Besides, it's not like any of us would ever actually hook up with him. Chandler is your weird, sarcastic neighbour, even if he is your best friend. He's like my brother," Rachel chuckled lowly, shaking her head. "And sometimes he acts like he's Phoebe's father the way he cheers her on. Suggesting he'd be anything more is a bit funny."

Monica could feel her frown deepen as she watched Rachel walk across the apartment. She liked that Rachel was so close with Chandler, really, and the sibling analogy was almost an accurate one. But Rachel hadn't acknowledged that her and Chandler were family too. Rachel had almost made it to her room when Monica frustratedly called out: "You did it again. Just then. You laughed at the idea of dating him."

Rachel threw her hands up in the air and whirled around to stare at Monica. "Why did you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You were the first person to tell me he was great, and I wasn't allowed to hurt him," Rachel pointed her water at her accusingly. "But at the beach. For two days straight, you laughed at him every time he asked you out. Why?"

Why had she laughed?