Chapter 2 – Why must people always put notes before and after every chapter… oh, wait, I just realised this is one! Never mind.

"You are!" Emma taunted gently, her clenched fist pushing against his bare chest. "Wow… these are great!"

He smiled and breathed in, inflating his rock hard muscles. They weren't particularly big, but they were certainly beautiful… kinda like a young Brad Pitt. He had silky blonde hair that was about 4-5cms long. His eyes were the most wonderful blue with hints of green around the edges, and he had smooth features with unblemished skin…

Emma noticed all this about him within the first five minutes, and she didn't even know his name. Heck, she could have painted him if he'd left now, and have it look like a photo rather than a painting… that is, if she could draw.

"Do you wanna come back to my place?" He bit his lip and took her hand.

"I don't even know your name." Emma drew back and extracted her hand from his grip.

"It's Henry. And yours?" He smiled and took back her hand.

She allowed him to lead her out of the coffee house, and finally answered him after a long kiss. "Emma."

He smiled and led her down the street to a large building that was clearly a copy of her own. They didn't talk as he took her to his flat on the third floor – number 36 – but each was nervous, and couldn't tell whether the other was.

Unknown to both of them, they weren't as easy as they made out. Whatever happened here was to be the first time for both of them. After words with Joey, Emma decided she was ready.

Once back in the room, they made out for a few minutes, with Henry's hand all the while up her top, and slowly moved to a nearby room. It had a double bed that was surrounded by posters of bands and picture of scantily dressed women. They landed, still in each others' arms, on the bed in a kissing heap.

Henry pushed himself up on his arms and looked down at the willing girl underneath him. He leant down and gave her a peck on the lips, then moved so that he was next to her. Biting his lip, he sat up.

"We shouldn't… I shouldn't be doing this. I don't know about you, but I don't want it to be this way. I want my first time to be special." He leaned forward so that he couldn't see any part of her.

"You sound like a girl!" Emma said, sitting up similarly. "But… I know what you're saying. I started feeling reluctant about…" she paused while she took a moment to think back, "ten minutes ago."

"We only met about seven minutes ago," Henry laughed nervously.

"I know, but just before you came into the coffee house, my mum's friend, Joey Tribbiani – off Days of Our Lives – suggested I slept with somebody and got it over with. I saw you about two minutes later and figured 'what the hell'." Emma turned to Henry who was now sitting bolt upright. "I saw how hot you were and started realising how nervous I was."

"You know Joey?" Henry winced, "No wonder… he'd the reason I chose to, um, you know. Well, he spoke to me just before and pointed at you."

Emma scowled and muttered, "He's gonna die."

Emma and Henry sighed simultaneously. Henry stood up and rummaged through a drawer to find a top to slip on. It turned out to be a red one with no sleeves and a hood; it had the number 04 on it its front, and appeared to have team-like stripes.

"Do you play…?" she gestured to his shirt that now, sadly, covered his once bare chest.

"Yeah…" he nodded, then continued, "football; at my school."

After a long awkward silence following this short discussion, Emma finally re-initiated talk.

"How about we start again?" Emma walked to the door. "We give each other our numbers, meet up, and get to know one another a little better."

Henry nodded and opened the door to allow her through.

"My building is right opposite. So… maybe we could have coffee sometime, or something."

They inserted their numbers into the other's mobile and Emma left, completely embarrassed.

Rachel watched the man as he wandered from the stalls to the sofa where she sat.

"What's your name, nice-lady-who's-strangely-letting-me-sit-next-to-her?" He sat down warily.

"I'm Rachel," she replied, "Don't you remember me?"

The man shook his head silently.

"Rachel! From Bloomingdale… we used to go out!" she smiled as his eyes lit up.

"Yes!" He grinned, "And you clearly know I'm Tag."

She nodded.

Tag sat there looking at her for a few moments, and then furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

"What is it?" Rachel asked; now she was the wary one.

"I'm trying to remember why we fell apart." He said seductively.

"Well, first of all it was me on my 30th Birthday because I needed someone more mature," Rachel talked while looking in the air as though to recall what had happened, "Then it was you because I was pregnant…"

"Yeah, I actually did remember, but I was just… you know," He put up his hands to do the air quotes, "flirting."

"Oh…" Rachel smiled, "Please continue."

"You look great!" Tag put a hand on her thigh. "How's your… daughter? Son?"

"She's fine. Her name's Emma and she's just turned 16." She put her hand on his hand.

"Oh… has it really been that long?" Tag moved his hand so that it was slowly rubbing a small area on her leg. "You know, I've had a kid as well. His name is Henry."

"Really…" Rachel sounded interested for a moment, and then sighed in annoyance. "Ok, I'm bored of flirting."

"What?" Tag pulled his hand back.

"Do you wanna go out tonight? We could bring our kids?" Rachel spoke quickly and to the point.

Tag grinned. "Yes, please."

Phoebe and Mike held hands as they entered their building. It was either a long walk or a short elevator ride to their floor, depending on how healthy they were feeling.

"Stairs?" Mike looked at Phoebe.

"Elevator." Phoebe ordered. "Need a pee."

As the elevator doors opened, a teenage girl of about 16 came out of them and nearly walked into Mike.

"Hey, slow down." He said, sounding kind.

"Sorry." The girl stopped to make sure he was ok.

"Emma?" Phoebe looked carefully at the girl.

"Yes…" Emma stared at this strange woman who knew her name. "Phoebe?"

"Yeah! Oh my god, it's been – like – ten years since I last saw you. You look so much like your mother." She held her hands and Mike patted her on the head.

"You've definitely grown up." He smiled.

After a few introductions and reminiscing, Phoebe declared she really needed the toilet, and that they should meet up sometime. Numbers were exchanged and they left each other.

As they reached their apartment, they found one of their sons lying on the couch.

"Hey, Henry. You'll never guess who we've just seen."

Oooh… which Henry is it? Can you guess? Wasn't as hyper when I wrote this one, but anyway… Please R&R! (That's read and review… but you know that.)