'Chandler!'

'Gah!' He leant against the doorframe, one hand pressed against his chest. His hair stood up in unwieldy tufts.

'I thought you were past the sweatpants phase.'

He peeled himself off the doorframe, padded across the apartment holding his dressing-gown closed. 'It's Saturday. Can't a man spend Saturday in his sweats if he wants to? What are you doing here, anyway? You don't live here anymore.'

'Joey stole our food,' Rachel said, 'so I'm stealing it back.'

'Fair enough.' He collapsed onto a Barcalounger, stared moodily into the middle-distance.

Rachel watched him for a moment, closed the refrigerator door. 'Are you okay?'

A grunt. Then: 'I just miss her. You know?'

'Oh, sweetie...' She crossed the floor, perched on the arm of his chair. After a moment he leant into her, his head in the crook of her arm. His hair felt glossy, impossibly soft between her fingers.

'I keep thinking, if I just call her- I shouldn't call her. Should I?'

'I-'

'I mean, it's my fault, really. I was the one who got all paranoid and crazy.' He took a breath. 'I'm the one who brought up the whole thing about her going with me while she was still with Joey.' He screwed his eyes shut. 'I still can't believe I said that.'

There were lines drawn deep between his eyebrows; there was a hardness in his face that she wasn't used to seeing and she didn't like it. This wasn't him; and seeing this person hurt her. She ran her fingers gently over the lines and he leant into her a little more.

'Chandler, look at me. I said look at me! Okay, so maybe you got a bit freaked out but that doesn't mean that what she did was your fault. I mean, it didn't take much for her to sleep with some other guy. One stupid fight? Some girls are just like that. Let me tell you something: some girls are jerks. Just like guys are. And if you called her- Well, would you really want to go back to that? To someone you can't and probably shouldn't trust?'

He peered up at her. 'I'm going to go with "no" on that one. But I still-'

'Miss her. I know.'

They sat.

'Do you ever think you'll die alone?'

'God, Chandler, are you always like this after a break-up?'

He shrugged. 'Dunno. Haven't had that many.' His eyes closed again. 'God, I suck with women.'

'Sweetie, that isn't true.'

'Oh please. In the pantheon of Guys Women Go For, you will not find the name of Chandler Bing.'

Which proved, Rachel thought, her point about women being jerks. 'Plenty of women go for you... What about that Italian girl, uh, Aurora?'

'She was married. And she had, like, ten boyfriends. I was just one of many.'

'Okay, okay... Well, Kathy liked you so much she broke up with Joey to be with you.'

'Yeah, and she liked me so much she slept with someone else while were still going out.'

'Right, so that was a bad example... Okay, Janice-'

'Oh my God! That's it.' He leapt up, dislodging Rachel. 'That is so it.'

'What are you...'

He was climbing through the window. He was climbing through the window onto the balcony. He was on the balcony and hanging over the edge and-

'Chandler! Chandler!'

She scrambled after him, caught one knee sharply against the sill and smothered the accompanying cry of pain, grabbed a handful of dressing-gown, heaved him backwards until he crashed against the window. He stared at her, hair wilder than ever, teeth clamped around a cigarette. There was a pack in one hand, a lighter in the other. Their hiding place evidently the ledge just beneath the balcony. 'What? For the love of God, what?'

Rachel pushed the hair out of her eyes. She could feel her chest shaking. 'You- I thought-' She should have just pushed him over instead of trying to pull him back. Anger was an almost preferable replacement for the fear. 'You're smoking?'

'Yes, yes, I am smoking; you're damn right I'm smoking.' He flicked the lighter, flame leaping up. Rachel snatched the cigarette from between his lips. They remained pursed for a moment, the flame still dancing and reflected in his eyes. 'Plenty more where that came from.'

Another cigarette in; another swipe to remove it. And a third. And-

'Will you stop?'

'No. I am not going to stand by and watch you slowly kill yourself. Chandler, you gave up smoking.'

'So what? I like smoking. I'm a smoker. I'm a big fat happy smoker.'

'You think it looks good? You think it's attractive? Well, let me show you something, buster.' Rachel grabbed the lighter, another cigarette, lit it gingerly and inhaled. It felt like swallowing a pack of razor blades. Her eyes watered. She coughed helplessly. 'See?'

Chandler watched the creamy folds of smoke between her lips, the haze that rose before her face. 'A hot girl smoking. Yeah, that's really really ... hot.'

'Are you serious?'

He nodded, dreamy. 'Will you take another puff?'

'Sure- No!' Her eyes narrowed. 'You're fantasising about me smoking, aren't you?'

'Uh...'

The fact that most men were so easily distracted was something that Rachel actually found quite endearing. 'How about me and Chantal-the-stripper both smoking?'

The expression on his face turned to one of reverence. 'Rach, you inspire the best fantasies. Ever.'

'Gee, thanks.' She stubbed out the cigarette.

They stood side-by-side, leaning against the balcony, taking in the mid-morning air that at their level was almost free of exhaust fumes; they spent a few minutes watching Ugly Naked Guy wrestle with his new Spacehopper.

'Twenty bucks says that hopper doesn't last the day.'

Rachel smiled, shook her head. 'No bet.'

She studied his profile out of the corner of her eyes.

'You know what? This is all Crying Guy's fault.'

She started. 'What? Who?'

'That guy who was crying at the Rangers game. You know, Crying Guy.'

'Oh, yeah, of course.' She frowned at Ugly Naked Guy's windows. 'Uh, why?'

'He asked me if I'd ever had my heart ripped out and I said, "Oh, not lately", and now here I am' -he thumped his chest- 'heart ripped right out. It's like-like Karma. Really, really crappy Karma. Ow.'

'Hit yourself too hard?'

'Just a little bit, yeah. '

Rachel bumped her shoulder against his; he looked at her and smiled in that way he had of smiling. The hardness had gone from his face. She put her head on his shoulder. Just as a friend, she told herself, just because he needs someone to be friend. She can be a good friend.

He kissed the top of her head and his lips lingered against her hair.

'There's a party at work next week,' she said, 'your should come with me.'

'Uh...'

Rachel raised her head. 'Hey, I went with you to your Christmas work thing.'

'Yeah, but, Rach... A Bloomingdale's party?'

'There will be hot girls there ... and some of them even smoke.'

His face went back to reverent. 'Rachel Karen Green, you know the way to a man's heart. Well,' he smiled, 'this man's heart.'

No man's eyes, she thought, had any right being quite that shade of blue. And no man, certainly, had any right looking at her quite so intently without intending to do anything about it. She looked away.

'So, you'll go with me?'

She saw him shrug. 'Eh, why not? There's free alcohol, right?'

'God, yes.'

'Then I'll go.'

She made herself look at him again. 'Great. Only...'

Chandler's eyes narrowed. 'What?'

'Can I dress you?'

He took in a breath through his nose that seemed to go all the way to his feet. 'I've actually been dressing myself for years now.'

'No, I mean- Okay, you totally rock a sweater-vest like no-one else, but...'

'Yes?'

'These are fashion people, sweetie.'

'And you're saying that sweater-vests are not fashion?'

'Not since about nineteen-fifty-six. Though you totally-'

'Rock them - you said.'

He looked amused. It was good that he looked amused.

'Okay, look, why don't we get some lunch and then we can go shopping and I can get you all-'

'Prettied up?'

'Chandler!'

He laughed. 'Okay, okay. But isn't that like a regular work day for you? We have lunch, you shop for someone?'

'Yeah, but this would be shopping for someone I actually like.'

Maybe he didn't notice the heat that sprang into her cheeks; maybe he didn't notice the way that suddenly she couldn't quite meet his eyes. Maybe he was just being kind and pretending he hadn't heard the way her voice had broken slightly.

'Where do you want to go for lunch?'

Rachel tossed her hair over her shoulder, straightened her spine until it felt like she had steel running through it. 'Let me get dressed and we'll decide when we're out.'

'Okay. See you in twenty? Thirty?' He rolled his eyes. 'An hour?'

She grinned. 'Great.' She started to climb back through the window; halfway through she twisted around. 'Hey. You won't die alone.'

His smile was lop-sided, lazy; his eyes glittered a warm sapphirine. 'Yeah, I know - I'll always have Joey.'

ooOoo

Across the hall, Rachel was greeted by Monica, her arms spread wide, mid-way through a lament no-one had been there to hear.

'-and I hate that stupid switch that doesn't do anything; and I hate the refrigerator light that only works half the time; and-'

'I really hate Kathy.'

Monica stopped, arms still spread. 'Where did that come from?'

'Huh?'

'You hate Kathy?'

'Did I say that out loud?'

Monica's eyebrows climbed higher. 'Uh, yeah.'

'Oh. Well, I do. Chandler's been so miserable since they broke up- How could she do that to him?'

The brunette sighed, joined Rachel at the table. 'I don't know. But-'

'But what?'

'Well... He did kind of, you know, get all Chandler-y about it.'

'What does that mean?'

Monica's lips pushed together, in and out, then: 'I mean... I mean the way he thought Kathy was cheating on him-'

'She was-'

'I know! But she wasn't before he thought she was.' Rachel stared at her; Monica shifted in her seat. 'Remember what it was like when Ross was all over you because of Mark?'

Rachel blew out a breath, waved a hand. 'That was totally different. That went on for weeks - months! Chandler and Kathy had one stupid fight and she ran out on him, she betrayed him. She had no reason to cheat on him-'

'You know Ross isn't here to hear this speech, right?'

They stared at each other for a moment, Rachel's mouth still hanging open. 'I wasn't thinking about Ross. This has nothing to do with- I was talking about our friend who is-is in pain and needs us. And why does everyone think I'm so hung up on Ross?'

Monica held up her hands. 'Okay-'

'And why are you taking Kathy's side?'

'I'm not!'

'Well... Okay.'

There was silence. Each girl stared in opposite directions. Monica started to fidget, fingers restless against the table-top; she was sniffing the air; her head inclined towards Rachel, eyes narrowing.

'Have you been smoking?'

'Well, Chandler-'

'Oh my God, Chandler is smoking? In our apartment?'

'No, and it was out on the balcony anyhow. And he didn't actually get to smoke.'

'So, what, you did it for him?'

'Monica...' Rachel took a breath. 'Just let it go.'

'Sure.'

She was still twitching, eyes straying longingly to the cans of air-freshener neatly lined up on the kitchen-counter.

'Mon...'

'I'm fine! I'm not going anywhere. See? This is me not going over there.' Monica clasped her hands together, tight. 'You, uh, you want to get some brunch?'

'Oh! Oh...' Rachel smiled, the apology half-hearted. 'I have a lunch date.'

'Oh?' Monica leant forward.

'Yeah.' Rachel stood. 'So, uh, so I better go shower and get changed.'

Monica watched her cross the floor to her bedroom. 'Who with? Rach?'

Rachel hesitated. 'Oh, you know, just some guy.'