Ross Gellar settled into his apartment with the spring semester catalog at New York University laid out in front of him on his apothecary table from Pottery Barn. Classes were due to start up again the following week and enrollment numbers were high in the science department after a promotional push from the university. Reaching for the remote and a bottle of his favorite beer, he settled in for a Discovery Channel marathon about dinosaurs in South America. As the opening credits rolled, a knock at the door pulled Ross away.
"The pizza guy must be early," Ross said to himself, opening the door to find Rachel in front of him. "Hey."
"Hey," Rachel said back, her voice tight and clipped. "Mind if I come in?"
"Sure," Ross gestured to the sofa. "I was settling in for a Discovery Channel marathon, but they'll be repeating it all weekend so I won't be missing too much."
Rachel nodded, distracted. "Are you doing anything tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow being New Year's Eve?" Ross asked. "Well, I was planning on watching TV and getting ready for a new semester of classes."
Rachel nodded, letting out a quick, 'um-hum.' "So nothing terribly important then?"
Ross titled his head to one side. "You have something better in mind?" he asked, brushing over her previous comment.
Rachel clapped her hands. "I do actually. I have this work event tomorrow night, a formal event, and I'm expected to bring a plus-one. I was going to go with my assistant Tag but he's in Colorado with his family and can't get away."
"So you were going to bring your assistant, who you're secretly dating to a work event?" Ross asked.
"Our official story at the office is that we are strictly professional, and Tag took the blame for that ill-timed limerick with Mr. Zellner."
"How many of us are coming?" Ross asked, referring to their close-knit friends group.
"Well Monica and Chandler are off doing engagement coupley stuff, and after the nightmare of the auction event, Joey and Phoebe are not invited to any more work events." Last spring, Phoebe drank all of the alcohol within reach at the table, and Joey (thinking it was a guessing game) bid on a very expensive boat named Mr. Beaumont.
"Fair enough," Ross agreed. "Where is this event taking place?"
"The Prince George Ballroom."
Ross nodded approvingly. "The museum hosted events there before."
"So you've been there," Rachel said brightly. "The event is black tie – I think you still have a tuxedo tucked away somewhere."
Ross could see where the conversation was going. "I do."
"The event starts at nine, so I figure we'll meet up around eight."
The 'yes' was inevitable for Ross when it came to Rachel. "I'll be ready; I guess I can tape the marathon."
Rachel let out a squeal of excitement. "You are the best, and this way we get to spend another New Year's Eve together."
A smile formed on his mouth. "This will be our seventh New Year's together."
Rachel nodded. "Well you've known me since I moved to the city. I've had so many firsts with you, like laundry, and you've gotten me out of more than one jam."
Ross paused. "Well it's what friends do," he said, breaking the silence.
Rachel stood on her toes to give Ross a quick kiss on the cheek. "I am going to finalize my gown for tomorrow night – can't wait to see you."
"Me neither," Ross agreed as he watched her leave the apartment.
Ross smoothed out his tuxedo for the last time, waiting to Rachel to arrive at her usual 'fashionably late' arrival time.
"It's open," Ross called out as he listened for the knock at the door.
"Professor Geller," Rachel said, standing in the doorway. "You might be the best looking college science professor I've ever seen."
"Did you take many science classes when you were in college?" Ross asked with a smile.
"I did not," Rachel admitted. "But that does guarantee you being at the top of the list." Rachel did a little spin for Ross in her midnight blue gown.
"You look amazing," Ross admired, taking a moment to draw her in. Ross reached for his wallet. "The cab's outside?"
"Sure is."
"Do we have a certain story or anything that we're telling people?"
"Telling people?" Rachel asked as they walked down the hall.
"About us," Ross clarified. "Are we here as friends, am I your escort, are we back together?"
"The first one," Rachel said quickly. "It's the easiest. And it will keep me on my A-game without having to go into the stickiness of our past."
"Sounds good," Ross agreed as they slid into the cab. "Any big designers there tonight?"
"Ralph will be there," Rachel explained, referring to Ralph Lauren. "But I'm still not really allowed to talk to him," she admitted. "It's a joint charity in the fashion industry, so representatives from Sachs, Louie Vuitton, Hermes, Prada, Hugo Boss, Gucci, will all be there."
"I hope I look okay," Ross said quietly.
"You look great, promise," Rachel assured him. "And I won't have to babysit you like Joey and Phoebe, so that's a definite plus."
"Tonight is your night to shine," Ross said. "I'll try not to fall asleep."
"Like at all of those industry meetings you came to," Rachel joked, continuing their banter. It had been years since their breakup, and they were both now in a place where they could talk about their past without making the other overly uncomfortable.
The Prince George Ballroom glittered with twinkly lights and decorations. Rachel led Ross to their assigned table before the mingling process began. Ross searched the room for a friendly face as Rachel chatted with her colleagues and fashion insiders. Eying the bar in the center of the room, Ross decided on his first landing spot.
Ross brought back two champagne flutes to the table.
"Oh thanks," Rachel said, sitting next to Ross. "I've been saying hello to so many people I didn't even get a chance to check out the bar."
"No worries," Ross said, gesturing to one of the waiters bringing over trays of food. "Are you hungry?"
"I'm almost too nervous to eat," Rachel admitted. "But you go right on ahead."
"Nervous, why are you nervous? This is your element."
Rachel drummed her fingers on the table. "I guess I still can't believe I'm here, two years later, still working at Ralph Lauren, selecting fashion and trends, doing what I enjoy."
Ross nodded, encouraging Rachel to split a plate of food with him.
"They have a really nice dance floor open before the keynote speaker," Rachel suggested. "I know you enjoy showing off your moves."
"We can share a dance while we wait for our food," Ross suggested, offering his hand to help Rachel out of her chair.
Rachel followed Ross to the center of the room as a new song began. She slid into his arms for a slow dance, impressed at how well they still fit together after all of their years and history. As the song came to a close, Rachel met Ross' gaze with her own. "This is a better dance than last year at Dick Clark's event right?"
"No contest between you and Monica," Ross assured her. "Just don't tell her that."
"Promise," Rachel agreed as they headed back to their table, knowing how competitive Monica was about every little thing.
"Do you know anyone else at our table?" Ross asked as they sat down to a plate of grilled chicken.
"Not yet," Rachel said. "I meant to look at the guest list, but it slipped my mind."
Ross excused himself from the table to go the restroom.
A tall gentleman approached the chair on Rachel's left. "Well this is a coincidence."
Rachel looked up and came face to face with a blast from the past. "Mark?" Rachel stammered, gripping her glass of water.
"Yeah, it's been a while." Mark Robinson opened his arms for a hug, which Rachel accepted after a beat.
"More than a while," Rachel said. "I haven't seen you since you left Bloomingdale's to go to – where did you go again?" Rachel asked quickly, feeling flushed.
"Louis Vuitton," Mark said helpfully. "Still there actually."
"Based in New York?"
"For the most part." He took a sit next to Rachel, gesturing to a young lady in a pink dress. "Remember my niece?"
"The one who worked on the pioneer report?" Rachel asked.
"That was four years ago," she laughed.
"Clara, this is Rachel – we used to work together at Bloomingdale's."
Ross sauntered back to the table, holding two more glasses of champagne. "Looks we have company," he said, stopping short when he saw Mark.
"Ross," Rachel said quickly, "You remember Mark from…"
"I remember," Ross said, his voice clipped. "Why don't I go and get us more champagne," he said quickly, walking away.
"I'm not allowed to drink," Clara protested.
"I'll get you a fruit punch," Mark said, looking at Rachel. "I guess he remembers me?" he chuckled.
"Yeah," Rachel said slowly.
"It's good that you two are still together," he said helpfully.
"Actually we're not…"
"Back," Ross said, bringing back extra glasses and a bottle of wine. "I snuck this when the bartender wasn't looking," he added.
"I'm going to get Clara a glass of punch," Mark said quickly excusing himself.
"Who?" Ross asked, popping the bottle open.
Clara waved at Ross. "I'm Clara."
Ross leaned into Rachel. "She's more than a little young for him don't you think."
Rachel pulled away slightly. "She is his niece," she hissed. "You be nice."
"I am always nice," Ross huffed.
Mark came back with a drink for Clara.
"So you couldn't find a date to the event, huh Mark?" Ross asked.
"I asked my folks if I could come," Clara clarified, trying to be helpful. "I'm doing a report on the fashion industry."
"Clara is an eighth grade," Mark added, taking a long sip of wine.
Ross shoved another piece of broccoli into his mouth. "Um-hmm," he muttered.
"So Rachel, are you still at Bloomingdale's working for Joanna?"
Rachel blotted her mouth with a napkin. "Joanna died three years ago, leaving me floundering as a personal dresser for clients. I stayed there another year before interviewing for Ralph Lauren."
"What's Ralph like?" Clara asked, taking pride out of saying his first name.
"She isn't allowed to talk to Ralph," Ross snickered, pouring the last of the bottle into his glass.
Rachel gritted her teeth, pinching Ross on the arm.
"I wasn't allowed to talk to the higher ups for at least a year and a half," Mark offered sympathetically.
"I'm going for a walk," Ross declared to the table walking off.
Rachel watched him go. "I should go after him." Sending a quick apology to Mark and Clara, Rachel stopped at one of the food tables for reinforcements. Gathering the provisions, she walked the perimeter of the ballroom. Stepping onto the outdoor balcony, she spied her target in the corner. "Hey you." Ross said nothing. "I brought you something to eat – to go with all of the alcohol," Rachel joked.
Ross turned around. "Wouldn't you rather talk to Mark?"
Rachel shook her head. "I came here with you," she reminded him.
"I was your second choice because your boyfriend couldn't make it."
Rachel shook her head, touching Ross' shoulder. "You are a lot of things, Ross but you are never a second choice. I can't even imagine coming here with Tag, he's practically a child."
"And I'm such a grownup?" Ross asked.
"On most days," Rachel conceded.
Ross reached for a cream puff from the plate. "Did you know he was coming tonight?"
"Who, Mark?" Rachel asked. "No, I had no idea – I swear. I haven't seen or thought of him in years."
"Right," Ross shrugged, reaching for another dessert from the plate. "I know this your event and everything, and I want to be here for you, but right now I just want to be alone."
Rachel nodded her head. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"I'll be fine – go back inside."
Rachel smoothed her gown and walked back inside. She paused at one of the corners to admire the paintings.
"How is he?" Mark asked.
"You remember how he was four years ago?" Rachel asked.
"Vaguely – he brought you lots of gifts at the office, he loved hanging around you."
Rachel laughed. "One of the few times I haven't enjoyed being pampered."
"So you two are just friends, right?"
"Um-hmm."
"I've never been able to stay 'just friends' with my exes. We just, stop speaking."
"Ross and I tried that for a while – turns out it didn't work out so well."
"Because you were in the same friend group?"
"Because we're drawn to each other," Rachel admitted. "It doesn't seem to matter if we're seeing other people or if we're single – we just keep finding ways to be together."
"So are you?" Mark asked. "Are you single? If you aren't with Ross, then…"
"I have a boyfriend, sort of – a guy that I've been seeing since Thanksgiving." Rachel felt suddenly ashamed of Tag, her young assistant at work.
"Does this guy that you're seeing know about everything with Ross?"
"No," Rachel said. And it wasn't because she was afraid to tell him; it was because she wasn't sure how serious she was about him in the first place. "We're still in the getting to know you phase of the relationship."
"That's always a fun phase."
"How about you? Are you seeing anyone?"
"If I was, I wouldn't have brought my niece Clara to a fancy New Year's Eve function," Mark grimaced.
"Fair point, but I bet that wins you the 'greatest Uncle' award."
"It does that," Mark agreed. "Doesn't exactly make me popular with the ladies though."
"Give it time," Rachel encouraged. "And now that we've seen each other again, if you ever feel like getting coffee or anything…."
"Would Ross be okay with that?" Mark asked.
Rachel leaned against the wall. "Given that Ross and I are just friends and not together – maybe we meet up in three months or so," she laughed.
"Three months or so," Mark agreed.
Clara raced over to her Uncle. "I just saw the gift swag bags – I am going to be so popular at school next week!"
"I'm happy for you, kiddo," Mark said, patting her on the back.
"Clara, how would like to see the extra special swag from Ralph Lauren?" Rachel asked. "I know where the goods are hidden."
Clara turned to her uncle. "Can I go with Rachel?"
"Sure," Mark said, checking the time on his watch. It was fifteen minutes to midnight.
Mark ventured out to the balcony, seeing a lone Ross still standing over the view. "I come in peace," Mark said, with his hands up.
Ross crossed his arms. "Wouldn't you rather be with Rachel? She's seeing someone but it doesn't seem very serious."
"Rachel and I tried to date, four years ago or so, it didn't work out then and it probably wouldn't right now." He cleared his throat. "I am not the reason that you two aren't together."
"Why are you telling me this?" Ross asked. "I thought you didn't like me."
"I don't," Mark laughed. "But Rachel is a great person, and she deserves to be happy – with the right guy."
"She's in a relationship."
"But he's not here tonight, and it's New Year's Eve, with seven minutes till midnight. Don't be stupid, Ross." Mark left it at that and walked away.
Ross looked at his watch, now five minutes till. He darted inside, hoping to find Rachel. "Hey!" Ross stopped short, nearly crashing into her. He grabbed her arm to brace himself.
"Hey yourself," Rachel said, catching his balance. "I was starting to worry about you. You know I didn't know about Mark being here tonight, and…"
Ross pressed his right finger to Rachel's lip to silence her. "Let me apologize for tonight," he insisted. "I was a complete jerk tonight – I was me four years ago – the me you broke up with."
"We all slip sometimes," Rachel reminded him. "I can forgive you for tonight – as long as you don't sleep with anyone else," she joked.
"Or mention the phrase 'we were on a break'", Ross added.
Rachel nodded.
"I really hate to say it, but Mark might not be the worst person in the world."
"You don't say," Rachel acknowledged with a smirk.
"I'm not going to start a fan club for him or anything, but if I ever see him again, I'll try not to be a complete jerk."
"Sounds very fair," Rachel appraised. "How long till midnight."
"Forty five seconds – we found each other just in time."
"Just in time, Rachel echoed as the chanting in the room got louder. Lost in each other's eyes, the yelling became indecipherable, all anonymous noise, as they came together for a New Year's kiss.