'I was actually planning on, y'know, talking to you first, not just, well, doing that.'

'I would have been so disappointed if we hadn't done that.'

Chandler ran his fingers along her back, savouring the softness of her skin, and decided it was one of his favourite things in the world to do. Not the most favourite, but definitely high up the list.

'Yeah, but I'm a guy. I got distracted by the kissing-'

'You started it!'

'-and the touching-'

'Yeah, okay, that was me.' Rachel grinned happily, her chin resting on his chest.

'Then there was the whole nakedness thing. I pretty much stopped thinking with my brain by that point.' He squinted down at her. 'What was your excuse?'

'I just really, really wanted to be with you.'

'You did?' Still so hard to believe, even now, when she had moulded herself to him and lay in his arms and everything seemed to be glowing slightly.

Rachel rolled her eyes. 'God, Chandler, I've been trying to get you to do something since the Rangers game.'

'Wh-'

'Okay, not exactly then, 'cos you were still with Kathy, but since you two broke up... Yeah. Pretty much.'

The Rangers Game. The Rangers Game with Crying Guy and Rachel had been staring at him; then after Kathy and she had been so sweet, and she kept talking about Chantal to cheer him up; and in the changing-room at Bloomingdale's; and the party, and she had been jealous -yes, jealous!- of the girl flirting with him and then the dancing and-

'I didn't know that- How did I not know that?'

She stretched out, her back rippling under his hands and her smooth thigh slid against his. 'Well, I tried subtle but apparently you don't do subtle, but then you don't obvious either, so...'

'See,' he said seriously, 'this is why you should never listen to anything I say. I'm an idiot.'

'No, you're not.' The backs of her fingers brushed against his cheek. 'You are hard work, though.'

'You told me girls like hard.'

Her smile changed, something mischievous creeping in at its edges. 'Oh, we do,' she murmured and her hand slid down his chest. 'We really do.' Her hand slid lower.

He sucked in a breath. 'Oh, you are so bad...'

ooOoo

In the early morning light, in the room that used to be hers, and in the warmth of an embrace that was still so new yet seemed so familiar, Rachel felt at home. They lay twined in each other, his heartbeat steady beneath her ear. She tilted her head slightly, looking up at him through half-closed eyes and found Chandler watching her watching him. She smiled.

'Hey.'

'Hey.' One finger-tip glanced across her cheekbone.

She sighed. 'We do have to talk this over.'

'I know. Ross.'

'Ross,' she said, instantly deflated. Chandler wasn't looking at her anymore; the opposite wall was now an apparent source of fascination. She had spent so long thinking about Ross, wanting Ross, being mad at him, loving him. Funny, that she had grown so accustomed to the enormity of all that in her life yet for the past weeks she had not missed the absence of Ross-related thoughts. She hadn't even noticed the lack.

Not so Chandler. Guilt was etched into his face.

'Maybe it won't be so bad.'

His eyes came back to her face. 'Come on, this is Ross. Formerly of Ross-'n-Rachel. This will kill him. Right after he's killed me.'

Rachel sat up, cool air biting against her skin. She shivered. 'This is one big conversation we're going to be having.'

'Yeah.' His eyes, restless, found her again and softened; he ran his hand down her arm and she leaned into the touch. There was something closed-off in his face. 'If you regret this-'

'I don't.' She laid her hand against his cheek. 'I don't, I just- We just have to figure out how we're going to do this. And...'

'And until we do we probably shouldn't tell anyone. About this.'

Goosebumps on her arms; she shivered again. 'Wow. We will be having a huge conversation.'

He smiled, and his hand slid up her arm, back down, up, down- 'Look, we'll meet for lunch, we'll talk and we'll sort this out. How does that sound?'

'That sounds great- What was that?'

Noises outside, like someone bumping into furniture.

'Chand-' His hand landed lightly over her mouth.

'Joey coming home,' he said, his lips barely moving.

She could hear the fridge opening, vague fumbling sounds. She could almost hear the slice of bread being laden with luncheon meat. And Chandler's fingers were still lightly against her lips; they sat up together, his arm around her waist and the heat from his body contrasted with the snap of frigid air.

Rachel took hold of the hand against her mouth, took the the pad of one of his fingers between her lips, then the next. His eyes, darkened, followed her.

'Rach-'

'Shhh...'

She concentrated on his fingers, the feel of them against her lips, on the sinewy hand caught in hers and the strength and delicacy of the bones. His other hand on her hip, warm and heavy. When he pulled her to him she sucked in a sharp breath.

'Quiet,' he breathed against her ear. 'Quiet.'

Joey still outside and her with him in here. She was shivering again, no - trembling. And she would lose herself in him again, nothing beyond the room where they were, the world even smaller than that, shrinking to their locked embrace.

But quietly.

ooOoo

Hours later, at Central Perk, and Rachel still felt strangely boneless, as though she'd simply float away if anyone so much as breathed too hard. It was not an unpleasant feeling. Everything in her world had suddenly been reborn in the afterglow. Creeping back into her room before Monica woke up and she had realised that the indefinable scent that was always on the air behind Monica's Pine-Sol and the omni-present avian smell was Chandler and his aftershave and ... just him; her coffee tasted better; Manhattan looked shinier.

Curled in the corner of the sofa, Rachel allowed herself a few memories to replay themselves and felt herself smiling. She tried to stop. She'd been too happy, too pleasant that morning - Monica would soon get suspicious.

Ross.

That was the thought to permeate her good mood. It was a relief that he wasn't there with the rest of them - she wasn't sure that she'd be able to meet his eyes, and part of her, a big part, resented that.

'Hello, children.'

That familiar greeting and she was boneless again, everything melting. Rachel watched him at the counter, trading a joke with- okay, just telling a joke to Gunther. She had never noticed the elegant economy of his movements before, an ease - almost graceful - that belied the awkwardness with which she had usually associated him. How had she never noticed? Crossing back to the sofa, he flashed her a smile and she glowed.

'Dude!' Joey, grinning. 'You hooked up!'

Chandler's smile stuttered. 'Hook- Wha- What?'

'You totally hooked up! You have your hooked up hair.'

One hand moved to his hair, smoothing it down. 'I di- You- How do you-'

Joey's grin had turned complacent, smug; he nodded, his eyes half-closed, then sat forward. 'Who is she? Is she that cute girl from your office?'

Rachel found that her fingers had tightened around the handle of her coffee-cup. She felt Chandler's eyes on her. She didn't look back at him.

'No! No. There was no cute girl. I mean-'

'Well, who is she?' Phoebe this time, her voice bright and eager.

'I, er...'

'Ooh, I know!' Joey's eyes were alight. 'It's that girl who delivers the pizzas, right? You know, you two are always flirting. And, man, she is hot-'

'No!' It sounded like a yelp. 'It, uh, it was Janice.'

Joey's smile evaporated. 'Dude.'

Rachel looked up at him; he met her gaze helplessly.

'I thought we had an agreement,' Joey continued, 'you were not sleeping with Janice anymore.'

'Yeah, well, y'know... That's me. I always sleep with Janice.'

'Does an agreement mean nothing anymore?'

The smile Chandler was wearing had more in common with a rictus; his breath was coming in short barking gasps. 'Look... Okay, look, Joe, how about, how about I promise, promise, that you won't see or even hear Janice?' He gazed at his flatmate, pleading.

Joey folded his arms. 'Eh... But we're not done talking about this!'

'Oh... Goody. Hey, look at the time - really have to get to work.' He caught Rachel's eye for a moment and she saw the apology in their depths. She smiled a little, just for him, and saw the answering relief.

'I'll walk out with you,' Monica said, unfolding herself from the armchair. They left, chatting amiably. Joey followed their progress, still shaking his head.

'Can you believe that guy?'

'Oh, yeah,' Rachel said, 'it's, uh, it's a shocker.' She picked up a magazine, started to flick through it idly. She willed Joey to be distracted and, as though the deities were in her favour, he asked the two girls urgently,

'You want more coffee?'

'No, I'm okay, sweetie.' He looked deflated. Rachel looked at him, looked in the direction his eyes were taking and found the good-looking blonde at the counter. 'Actually, I think I'd like a glass of water.'

He grinned. 'You got it! Pheebs?'

She shook her head. He sprang out of his chair, adopting a nonchalant posture as he reached his goal.

'That's funny.'

Rachel shrugged. 'Joey hits on girls all the time.'

'No, I mean about Chandler.'

Rachel's grip on her magazine increased. The line she had been reading suddenly blurred.

'What he said about hooking up with Janice, it's just' -Phoebe's hands caught at the air- 'his aura's all the wrong colour for that.'

'H-his aura?'

'Yeah. Okay, when two people get together their auras kinda bleed into each other and he's definitely been with someone but his aura just doesn't look Janiced.' A pause. 'Actually-' She looked harder at Rachel.

Oh no.

There was a healthy frown building across Phoebe's face.

Oh, please, no.

'Oh...'

'No!'

'Oh!' Phoebe's eyes were wide. 'Oh my God! He's been Rachelled! You've been Binged!'

'Phoebe!' Rachel's eyes darted towards Joey, still mercifully engaged at the counter. 'Will you keep it down?'

'But-'

'Is that keeping it down?' Rachel hissed.

Phoebe leant forward, her gaze intent on Rachel. Her words came out from between lips that barely moved. 'You and Chandler?'

'Yes, yes, okay we-we slept together last night ... a lot. And this morning. Twice.'

The blonde let out a sharp breath. 'Oh my God!' Her eyes wandered over Rachel's face. 'You look ... really happy.'

She couldn't stop the answering smile, felt it bubbling up. 'I am.'

'Wow. Okay.' Phoebe picked up her coffee-cup, stared into it as though scrying through the faint rise of steam. 'So, are you guys, like, in love or something?'

'I-' Rachel sighed. She had the magazine rolled in a death grip in her hands; she let it go. 'I don't know. We haven't really had time to talk about that.'

'Oh, uh-huh.' A knowing smile; Rachel felt her cheeks warm.

'And we just want to, y'know, figure that stuff out before we say anything. So please please, Pheebs, don't say anything to anyone. Anyone.'

'Of course I won't.' She was silent for a moment. 'Ross is going to freak.'

Rachel winced. 'Yeah, not too happy about that. And that's another reason why we don't want to tell anyone yet.' Ross. Of all the things she didn't want to think about and was trying not to think about and suddenly he was everywhere. No, not everywhere. Chandler was everywhere; Ross was just hovering at the edges. All the edges. Chandler. Yes, Chandler was easy to think about. She felt all of her muscles change to that strange syrupy consistency that was starting to become familiar.

'So, uh,' she peered at Phoebe, 'so, what do you think about it?'

'Oh, I think it's great. For Chandler, especially.'

'What's that supposed to mean? Chandler is a great guy!'

'No, I know.' Phoebe smiled into her coffee.

'And what does that mean?'

'Well,' Phoebe placed her cup on the table with exaggerated care, 'for someone who's not in love with the guy you're getting pretty defensive.'

'I'm not- Oh, God, I am...' Rachel buried her face in her hands. She peered at Phoebe from between her fingers. 'What do I do?'

'Well, I'd sit up 'cos Joey's coming back over.'

And that, Rachel thought sourly, was a big help.

ooOoo

'Mr Bing, call for you on line one.'

Before he pressed the button, Chandler reflected that he would never quite get over the kick of his own secretary and the shallow simplicity of a call on line one - or a line of any other number.

'Chandler Bing.'

'Well, hello, Chandler Bing.'

Rachel. Rachel with her voice low and husky and he was back to thinking that she was bent on killing him and he still just didn't care. He needed a cigarette. He needed Rachel naked, but in the absence of that he'd make do with a bucket-load of cigarettes.

'Well, hello, Miss Green.'

'Whatcha doing?'

'Oh, you know... Thinking about you. Naked.'

She laughed, the sound catching in the back of her throat. Chandler leaned back in his chair, never so grateful as now for having his own office.

'Listen, sweetie, about lunch-'

He sat up again. Of course. The morning after the night before and she was having second thoughts. Regrets. Well, they had never promised each other anything.

'You can't make it,' he said, flat. He heard her sigh.

'No. Cindy's off sick and I got lumbered with her pain-in-the-ass client. I've changed my mind about my job - I do hate it.'

'Yeah, welcome to my world.'

A pause.

'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine.'

He'd spent most of his life being 'fine'. It was exhausting. On the other end of the line Rachel sighed again.

'I am so, so sorry about lunch... Can we meet after work? ...Chandler?'

Okay, maybe for once he actually was fine.

'Yeah, I'd- Damn, I can't. I have a- Uh, I have something.'

'What?'

He winced, took a moment. 'I have a racquetball game.'

'Really?'

'Yes, really.'

'Huh. Okay, could we meet after that?'

Chandler sat, the phone pressed hard against his ear. 'Uh, yeah, yeah, let's meet then.'

He could hear her smile. 'Great.'

ooOoo

Rachel slid along one of the raked benches overlooking the courts, staring intently at the action on court number four and the two men flinging themselves around it.

Chandler was good, she thought with some surprise. Very good. No wonder he'd kept it quiet: Monica would have him signed up for every tournament in the Tri-State area so fast all they'd see would be a Chandler-shaped blur.

She watched as he dived after the ball and it ricocheted around the court. Both men stopped moving, both breathing hard. They straightened, exchanged slaps on the back, shook hands. It looked sober, mature. Chandler hung back while his opponent left and-

Rachel smiled. Yup, there it was. The whirling arms, the little skips. The patented Chandler Bing Dance of Triumph.

That's my guy, she thought.

ooOoo

'You told Phoebe? Why-why-why-why would you do that? Why?'

'I didn't tell her, she guessed! Well, she didn't guess exactly, she saw it in your aura.'

'My what?'

'Your aura. It was the wrong colour or something. Oh, what the hell do I know? This is Phoebe.'

'That's it. She is not allowed anywhere near my aura anymore!'

Chandler swallowed down his drink, took a deep breath. 'So, uh, what did she say? About us, I mean.'

Rachel tossed the hair away from her shoulders. 'She said she thinks it's great.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, those were her exact words. Why, what did you think she'd say?'

'I...' He shrugged.

That Rachel must have been drunk, or insane, or had mistaken him for someone else.

Throughout the day, he had kept thinking that maybe Rachel had been drunk, or insane, or...

She sat opposite him in the darkened booth in a bar, elbows propped on the table, and ran the cherry from her drink along her lips before biting into it. He envied that cherry. Her eyes, unfocused, came back to him and her lips curved upward.

'You know how much work I got done today?' she asked.

'A lot?'

She shook her head. 'None. Well, not much.'

He smiled. 'Yeah, I hate to think about the state of the spreadsheets I sent upstairs.'

'Think anyone will notice?'

'If they're anything like me, probably not.'

She was golden, he thought. Everything about her: the honey-blonde hair, the gleam of her skin, the quality of her voice. The golden girl and she seemed to want him.

It was a thought so fragile that it threatened to break if put under too much scrutiny.

And that would be the result of telling everyone else, even leaving Ross out of it.

Ross. Every thought of that name was immediately followed by the echo of Traitor floating through his mind.

Phoebe, Joey, Monica- They'd all have an opinion, all have advice, all be watching them. And if it all went wrong there would be more advice, more opinions, sides picked. It would be nice if they could at least work it out for themselves first.

'I know,' Rachel sighed. 'I know. It's just- Y'know, I don't really mind the sneaking around.'

'Me either.' Apart from the teeny tiny massive part of him that wanted to stand on a rooftop and yell the fact that Rachel Green was with him to the world. Well, to most of Midtown, at least.

'But I hate not telling Monica.'

He nodded. 'Yeah, I hate not telling Joey. Mainly because, you know, you're really hot.' Chandler looked at her, sheepish. 'Is that okay?'

Rachel laughed. 'That's okay. And you're pretty hot, too.'

His mouth opened and he stared at her, wordless. She leant forward, placed her hand over his.

'Okay, that's just the plain old truth and I tell the truth. So, you'll just have to get used to it.'

He linked his fingers through hers. 'I think I can used to all of this pretty fast.'