Monica rests her elbows on the rail of the boat, looking out across the harbor. I wrap myself around her from behind, sliding my hands over her arms until our fingers link. She leans her head against my chin and I kiss her temple.

"Good call on the Circle Line Cruise," she says, pulling my arms more tightly around herself to ward off the chill of the early autumn evening.

"I have good ideas from time to time," I answer smugly.

"Well, no one we know would be on one of these things, that's for sure."

"A touristy-cruise on a Saturday night in New York? It's the hotspot, I'm telling you. All of our friends are planning to be here tonight."

She nudges me with her shoulder, but says nothing, probably just rolling her eyes.

It was brought to my attention recently that what Monica and I have been doing can't really be classified as dating since the bulk of our relationship has been horizontal. But as soon as I knew she wanted to be seen in public with me, I started trying to figure out a way to make that happen. Lucky for me, it turns out that there's a lot more do than just hang out at the coffee house.

"So, is this really a good date?"

She rubs her head against my chin, leaning back into me a bit. "It's perfect. Thank you."

"How is it for a first date?" I can't believe how insecure I am about this—we've been together over three months—we've had sex more times in those three months than I've had in my entire life. I have inspected every little bit of her body; I know every freckle, every scar, all of it, on a level I've never known with anyone before, but taking her out on a date has unnerved me in a way that I never would have expected. It makes this whole thing we're doing together so much more real; it's not that I'm not okay with that, but I feel like there's a whole lot more riding on us now, and it's a little scary.

Her fingers squeeze mine reassuringly. "This is the best first date I've ever had."

I kiss her cheek gently and see her smile in response. "Me, too." It's true; despite my nervousness at getting this right, I've never had a better first date in my life, and I know that it has everything to do with the woman standing in front of me.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," she answers.

"It's a little personal."

Her body stills for a moment. "The last time you asked me a personal question, we had the best sex I've ever had in my entire life. And while I'm not opposed to doing that again, or even sex in a relatively public place, this particular spot might be a little too public for my liking."

"Well, first of all, thank you. That night was pretty fantastic for me, too. Second of all, it's not really that sort of personal."

"Oh."

I pull back from her and look at the side of her face until she cuts her eyes toward me. "Am I crazy, or do you sound a little disappointed?"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt you to suggest it, you know."

"You actually want to have sex on the Circle Line?" I ask her incredulously.

"I'd just like to be asked."

I pause for a minute, not really sure what to do, until I see the corner of her mouth twitch. "You're screwing with me."

She shrugs, looking unapologetic. "Maybe a little." She shifts a little against me provocatively. "But remember that thing I did in front of you?"

I nod, unable to trust my voice.

"Well, there's a good chance that I'd let you be the one to do that do me tonight."

I feel myself stiffen against her painfully and groan into her hair. "You would say something like that to me when there's no way we can get off this damn boat." I push her gently against the rail as I wrap myself around her a bit more tightly, breathing deeply, as I do my damndest to get myself under control.

She slides out from my embrace, moving to stand next to me. She laces her fingers through mine once more. "Maybe this is safer."

I look at her in disbelief. "Yeah, right. 'Safe' for the two of us would probably mean being trapped on opposite sides of the country, and even then we'd still manage phone sex."

She giggles softly, but doesn't bite. "So, personal question. Go."

I shake my head in wonder; I've never met anyone able to switch gears the way she does. "I think the moment is gone."

She leans her head against my shoulder in response. "Sorry I got you all horny and stuff."

"I wish I could believe you."

"No, I am. I should have waited 'til later in our evening to mention that, not when we're trapped on a boat for another hour. I'll be good. But I really do want to know what you were going to ask."

I take a few deep breaths, refocusing my mind, trying to recall my thoughts. "What happened with you and Rachel?"

She turns and looks at me in confusion. "Something happened between me and Rachel? How did I miss that?"

"I mean back in college."

"You've lost me."

"Well, you guys were best friends growing up, right? All through high school, and I guess even through your first year of college. But we started hanging out more—what? The summer after that? That fall? Rachel was nowhere to be found. I didn't see her again until, well, we bumped in to her when the coffeehouse was a bar, but really not until she ran out on her wedding."

"Wow. Thanks for the recap." She bumps me with her hip and I nudge her arm.

"Anyway, I just figured that something must have happened to cause you two to not be friends. I'm just curious."

She sighs before laying her head on my shoulder once more. "I don't really have an answer to that. We never had a fight or anything. She just…I don't know…stopped."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we hung out all through winter break during our second year, but when spring break rolled around, I couldn't get in touch with her. I think she went to some standard party town or something, probably in Florida. But then I'd bumped in to her when we got home for the summer and she would act super polite and then avoid me. Never returned a call, didn't come over to see me. I knew she was around—we had enough mutual friends so that I'd hear about her from time to time, but never saw her. Finally, I stopped trying. I couldn't make her be friends with me."

"You guys never talked about it?"

She makes a noncommittal noise and shrugs. "I don't know; I guess I never really thought about it. At least not after she came to live here. Didn't seem that important." She pauses, and I can tell that there's something else she wants to say.

"What is it?"

"Well…I do have a theory."

"Do tell."

"It doesn't make me sound like a very good person," she warns.

"Why don't you tell me your theory and let me be the judge?"

"Well…I think she was threatened by me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She turns to face me, resting an elbow on the rail, keeping our fingers linked. "I was always her fat friend, and suddenly…I wasn't fat. I was competition. Even though I didn't mean to be, or even know that I was. I think she started to see me differently. Don't get me wrong; she was really supportive when I started to lose weight and went shopping with me when I needed new clothes but…I don't know. We went to a couple of parties together that winter, and I think that's when it started. All of a sudden I was getting a lot more attention than I was used to—at least, a lot more positive attention. I don't even know if she was getting noticed less, actually." She shrugs helplessly, and that's when I see that her eyes are shiny with tears.

"Monica, I didn't mean to upset you."

She shakes her head, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "You didn't do anything. I don't think I realized this still kind of hurt."

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close; her arms go around my waist and she squeezes me gently. "I was scared, you know? I mean, guys had never paid attention to me like that before. I didn't know how to handle it. Then my best friend stopped talking to me for no reason; I needed her to help me with all that stuff and she was just gone."

"I'm sorry, Mon. I really wish I hadn't brought this up."

She lifts up on tiptoes, planting a quick kiss on my lips. "It's okay. It was an innocent question."

"But still…"

"Don't worry about it. Anyway, that summer is when I came up with the whole 'threatened by me' theory. Whether or not it was true, it made me feel a little better. Or at least justified in being angry instead of sad. But, that summer is when Ross and I really started to become friends, so I spent a lot of time with him, and by extension Carol. That fall I started to spend time with you, too, and, well…you know the rest. Life goes on, Chandler. I missed Rachel, but there was nothing I could do about it. We went to different schools, she found different friends. It happens. And we're friends now, so everything is good."

We're silent for a few minutes, the gentle rocking of the boat peaceful as we hold each other.

"I just had an uncharitable thought," I say quietly, stroking Monica's hair.

"What's that?"

"Do you think Rachel was only ever friends with you back then because you were fat?"

She thinks about it for a few moments, her hands absently stroking my back. "No, I don't think so. I think we were friends because we'd known each other forever. Even though she was pretty much the most popular girl in school, she never seemed to care or notice that I was big, and I guess because I was friends with her, I had more of an 'in' with the cool kids. Our dynamic changed; we changed. I don't think she knew how to handle it, either. I mean, we were only eighteen."

"I guess that's true," I concede, kissing the top of her head. "Well, for what it's worth, you very quickly became a master at how to handle guys."

She tilts her head back to look at me, her forehead a little furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, c'mon, Monica. I was there—remember? You broke hearts left and right. You had a different guy chasing after you every day."

"No, I didn't."

I stare at her in disbelief. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Chandler, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Well, I can't speak for what your life was like when you weren't hanging out with us, but every time you were on my campus, there was at least one guy trailing after you like a puppy. Do you really not understand just how hot you are?"

Her forehead crinkles even further. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Monica, I've watched guys chase after you for years, but it was never anything like those couple of years in college. I guess maybe it's because you didn't even realize what was happening but you drove guys crazy."

I feel her hands slide under my jacket. "Did I drive you crazy?" I can tell by her voice that she's trying to distract me, probably uncomfortable with me talking about this with her.

"Well, yeah. Maybe I haven't said this enough, but you're hot. Even in college. So yeah, it kind of drove me crazy watching all those guys chase after my roommate's hot little sister. I kind of had an ongoing crush on you for a while."

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

I shrug. "Don't know. Maybe I thought it would have been weird. And I really liked hanging out with you. If I'd told you I was into you, it would have messed things up and things would have gotten all…weird. Look at what we would have missed out on. We wouldn't have been friends. We wouldn't have this right now which is so great."

Her lips are on mine without warning, her arms tightening around me. I briefly consider the other people on the deck around us before I melt into her. I bring my hand up to stroke her hair and she moans softly into my mouth.

"You're so sweet. You really had a crush on me in college?"

"Duh. On and off for the last ten years, really."

Even in the sunset, I can see her cheeks turn pink, and for the briefest of moments, she's nineteen again, and I have to wonder what our lives would have been like if I'd made a move on her back then. The romantic in me would like to believe that it would have worked out, that out of all the people pursing her back then, I would have been the one to stick, and that we'd be that obnoxiously cute couple that's been together forever. But realistically…I was an idiot back then. I'm an idiot now, too, but I was worse in at twenty. I would have screwed everything up, and there's a good chance she wouldn't even be my friend right now, never mind my girlfriend.

"You were so worth the wait, Monica," I tell her softly, stroking her cheek gently.

She smiles up at me, radiant, her eyes sparkling. "So were you."

Our lips fuse together, the world around us melting away, the people on the deck with us disappearing. In this moment, the grandeur of New York City at sunset is completely lost to us, and we're all there is.