Sleight of Hand

A/N: I'm not 100 sure I like this chapter. But I needed a little break from all the dramatic angst the other chapter were, so I do like that this one's a bit quieter. I wrote it while listening to "Everything" by Lifehouse, so I just was in a really mellow mood haha. I hope everyone likes it, and the move reviews, the better :-)

He woke to the smell of coconut shampoo.

Opening his eyes uncertainly, he saw her. Well, the back of her head. Once he blinked a few times and gave the room a once-over, he remembered where he was. And then he was aware of his arms, holding something protectively. Something smooth, that rose up and down rhythmically, that had a pulse. He ran his hand up it and found it to be her stomach. Her back was to his chest, his arm flung over her waist, pulling her to him.

He smiled.

Carefully, he leaned his head closer, gently caressing the velvety skin of her shoulder with his lips. She sighed in her sleep, and adjusted herself a bit, but didn't wake. He moved further down, softly kissing her arm, and it seemed to be enough to pull her from sleep. She chuckled quietly, her body shaking under his arm. She turned herself around so she was facing him, and he saw silent gratitude in her eyes.

"Thank-", she began, but he interrupted her by leaning in and catching her lips. They kissed lazily, merely brushing their lips against the others for a few moments. Then Ross broke the pattern, kissing her full for a few drawn out seconds, and pulled back.

"You're welcome."

She sighed, half-smiling at him a bit. Then she moved closer, settling her head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around her back. She let one leg fall between his, nestling snugly into his side, as he let his other hand stroke her arm, slowly.

And all of a sudden, the peaceful moment left Rachel feeling a little short. There was no doubt that Ross made her feel better, but . . . what were they, really? She couldn't say they knew each other well enough to be good friends. And really, unless she counted going out for a simple few drinks a date, she wouldn't say they were dating.

But then what the hell were they doing?

"I have work soon," he said softly, as one of his hands moved in imaginary circles along the skin of her hip.

"Then you should probably leave and start getting ready," she flatly replied, detangling herself from him and beginning to gather her clothes. He watched her in confusion as she grabbed his clothing as well, and handed them out to him. "Well?"

"Yeah," he sighed, disappointed. "I guess."

They both dressed, and though the moment was thick, it was anything but awkward. It was comfortable, even, amidst all the tension. But Rachel had too many questions, and she needed to think about everything.He moved towards her, not sure how to say goodbye for the moment. He opted for a kiss on her cheek, and noticed how kept her eyes down after he pulled away. "I'll see you later, then."

"Bye," she whispered.

-----

She paced the hallway in front of his apartment, glancing at her watch every few minutes. After spending the entire day thinking about what to consider this . . . "thing" going on between Ross and herself as, and she still had no answers. All she knew was that he comforted her, even just his presence. But was that enough?

She heard footsteps ascending the staircase that was down the hall, and her heart jumped a bit. She wasn't even sure what she was going to say to him- all she knew was that she wanted answers. And if he was anything like her, he probably wanted them too.

He spotted her as he emerged from the staircase, turning the corner down his hall. He looked baffled, waving hesitantly at her as he made his way down the hall. She weakly smiled, taking a deep breath and going over everything she needed to know in her mind. Only when he finally reached her, and was standing merely an arm's length away, and his rich brown eyes were gazing down at her, it all left her mind.

"Rachel? What- what are you-"

"Ross," she interrupted, "There's something I need to know."

"Don't you work at the restaurant tonight?", he wondered.

"I got someone to cover my shift."

"Oh."

"Ross, I, um . . ." God, what was she even asking? She wasn't sure anymore. So she just said whatever came out. "What are we?" His eyebrows raised in surprise, and she guessed that he must be confused over this too. "I mean, we just met like last week, we barely know each other, we're both technically married . . . what is this? What are we doing?" A short silence followed before he moved to reply.

"Do you feel right?", was all that he asked. She was caught off guard.

"I guess. But-"

Cupping her cheek in one of his hands, he leaned in and kissed her, pulling her close with his other hand on her back. She slowly returned the gesture, slipping further under with each passing second.

"Then don't question it," he murmured between kisses. She felt him reach his hand behind her, unlock the door to his apartment, and allowed him to walk her backwards into it. And she let herself go to him once again.

-----

She propped herself up on her side later that night in bed, drawing the sheets around her naked body. She watched the man sleeping soundly beside her, this man that somehow made her forget. She didn't know how he did it, or why he was doing it. But being with him in this way made her forget all the shit that went on in some past life of hers, before she'd gotten here. Maybe it did the same for him.

She half smiled as he fidgeted a bit in his sleep, turning to his side before settling back into whatever dream he was having. She ran her hand softly through his hair, ruffling it up a bit before patting it back down. She let her hand run down his face before she sighed, turning to lie on her back.

Her eyes scanned his room. It was the first time she'd seen it. It was full of warm colors, his personal knick-knacks, some paperwork from his classes. There was a small table with a chair in the corner, and she noticed two photo frames that were face-down. Her eyes lingered; it seemed like something he looked at often. The chair was turned out, as though he sat there so much that he didn't care to push it back in. A partially empty glass of some unknown liquid sat next to them.

Curiosity got the better of her. She glanced at him one more time to make sure he was asleep before slipping out of bed. Grabbing his dress shirt from off the floor to cover herself, she sat in the chair and turned her back to him. As she clicked on the small lamp, she lifted the frames.

And then she saw the joy of two seperate weddings. Two very different brides with shining smiles- one, a striking blonde with pale blue eyes, and the other, a brunette with a warm gaze. But the very same groom, wide-eyed and excited, so foolishly in love. Or in love with the idea of love. Whichever it was, he seemed so innocently naive.

She felt a pang of hurt. One of these women was still his wife.

"The blonde one's Carol," she heard a soft voice behind her. Ross had woken up. He smiled sleepily at her. "My first wife." She nodded, noticing now that he looked years younger in that photo than in the other one.

"When did you find out about her?" She was speaking in hushed tones, though she didn't know why. It seemed to fit the moment. The air was so calm and the room was so still, she didn't want to ruin it.

"We'd been married, like, three years before anything," he began, kneeling next to her and laying one arm around her shoulders, resting on the back of the chair. "We'd always been best friends. We could talk about anything and nothing for hours. But then, we just started drifting. She was distant, all of a sudden. Spent a lot of time out with her friends. And before I could even find out what was going on, she just dropped this bombshell on me- she was gay."

"Wow," she replied, shaking her head. "I can't even imagine."

"Yeah, it was sort of an arrow to the heart," he said, in all seriousness. She felt his hand begin lightly stroking her shoulder.

"What went wrong with her?", she asked after a moment, motioning towards the other picture.

"Well, as I said, Emily's technically still my wife. We're seperated. It was just a matter of going way too fast. Once I'd found her, and we were dating, I just wanted so bad to have what was originally between Carol and I. I thought that was what I was supposed to have. We'd barely been dating a few months when i proposed. There was just . . . a lot we hadn't known about each other, a lot we hadn't anticipated."

"How long have you been married?"

"Three years, nearly. I don't know how. The problems just kept growing until we were barely talking. It was like sharing a bed with a stranger." He sighed heavily. "We've spoken since she left, but I think we're both certain that its too far gone to mend."

"And you're alright with all of this?", she asked in confusion. He remembered her breaking down to him the night before, about how everything really wasn't okay in her mind.

"Not really. I've sort of trained myself to be numb, but deep down . . . there's nothing okay about it. I'm just . . . learning to deal with it."

He looked over into her empathetic eyes. She knew exactly what he meant. He leaned in, closing the distance between them with a gentle kiss that lingered a few moments. He pulled away, still keeping his face close to hers.

"Want to go back to sleep?", she whispered. He nodded, stood up, and held his hand out to her. Taking it, she followed him back to the bed. After discarding his shirt, they settled in under the covers and wrapped themselves up in each other.

As she drifted to sleep, she couldn't help but feeling that, with learning more about him and knowing him better, maybe their connection wasn't so weird. Maybe she didn't have to question it.

It just was.