Disclaimer: I do not own Friends or any characters therein - I'm just playing with them.

Author Note: This is my first fic for this fandom: I'm not sure that my writing style is entirely suited to it, or that I've done justice to the characters. The story picks up from The One With the Girl from Poughkeepsie and the Rangers game to which Rachel and Chandler go. I have tried to keep to the canon timeline, but things will probably get altered slightly in favour of the current story. Nonetheless, I hope that you enjoy it and feedback is always welcome.

LOVE PLUS ONE

For someone who claimed not to be all that sports-inclined, Rachel thought, Chandler Bing certainly got into his sports - if the advice he yelled to the angry Canadians with the missing teeth was anything to go by.

'I hope you don't kiss your mother with that mouth,' she said when he dropped back into his seat. She spoke close to his ear, almost shouting over the roar of the crowd.

'Not if I can help it,' he shouted back. 'And if you heard half the stuff my mother says you'd be more worried about me- Oh, come on!'

Out of his seat again, gesticulating wildly as one heavily-padded figure slammed another against the barrier. Blood sprayed against the clear Plexiglas. The crowd cheered. Rachel flinched in sympathy.

'Can you believe that guy? You big baby!'

'Chandler! He's lost a tooth.'

He shrugged. 'Eh.'

'You know,' she said speculatively as he settled beside her again, 'until tonight I thought your idea of sport was watching Pammy and Yasmine running along a beach.'

'Hey, they are both athletes and great artistes. Not just artists, artistes.'

'Whatever, Bing.'

'You know, you're not getting into the spirit of this, Green.'

'It's just-' She glanced at the rink, flinching again as another few gallons of blood sprayed across the ice and the crowd went wild. 'It's really violent.'

Chandler's eyes widened. 'That's the beauty of it. You get all the catharsis of some serious ass-kicking, without having to get hurt yourself. It's great; why do you think so many people are here? If we had to get down on the ice and do that ourselves all you'd see is a bunch of grown men cold and crying.'

'Actually, that guy over there has been crying for the last fifteen minutes.'

He looked where she was pointing. 'Oh yeah.' They both stared at the quietly sobbing man for a moment; Chandler shook himself. 'Look, you were a cheerleader, right?'

'Yes.'

'So that's all this is!' He gestured at the crowd. 'It's cheerleading ... only with expletives instead of pom-poms.'

She grinned suddenly. 'You never spent a lot of time around cheerleaders, did you?'

His head tilted, thoughtful, wistful. 'You know, it wasn't for the want of trying...'

Rachel laughed, joined in the tail-end of the roar that swept through their side of the stadium. Chandler was right about the catharsis, she thought, feeling the sudden release of the tension across her chest. When another player slammed against the barrier she didn't flinch, didn't look away; she watched the snarl of fury behind the face-guard as he turned on his opponent; and she cheered him on.

ooOoo

'I think I've permanently damaged my vocal chords.'

'Yeah, you were yelling pretty loud.'

'Only 'cos you made me,' Rachel grumbled hoarsely.

They pushed their way through the crowds. Even away from the ice the air still smelt of cold and sweat. Rachel slipped her hand into the crook of Chandler's arm; the crush of people necessitated proximity. She smiled up at him. 'You know something? I had a really good time.'

'See? What did I tell you?'

'I know, I know... Catharsis. And we catharted the hell out of that game.'

'Well, you did.'

He looked at her along sparkling slanted eyes, head tilted. She squeezed his arm lightly. It was different hanging out with Chandler than with Joey or Ross. Well, not Ross, not now, maybe one day but not now. Chandler laughed at her jokes. Not in the patronising way Ross did, or the way that Joey laughed at the joke he thought she had made instead of the one she actually had; Chandler laughed as though he understood, as though he thought that when she was trying to be funny she really was.

Their progress was halted by a contraflow of people. They stood still and Chandler noticed the way she had taken her lower lip between her teeth.

'What?'

'Nothing.'

Chandler prodded her arm. 'C'mon, you can tell me.'

'It's nothing.'

'Tell me.' A sing-song voice.

She glared at him. 'Fine. I really need to pee. Okay?'

He shook his head. 'I asked if you needed to go before we left and you said no.'

'I didn't need to go then.' She shifted uncomfortably. 'Seriously, though, I really, really need to pee.'

'Bathroom's right over there.'

She screwed up her face. 'I don't really like public restrooms. And here?'

'Can you hold it in 'til we get home?'

'Uh...' She bit her lip.

'Okay, off you go.'

She grimaced, still chewing her lip, then gave in, slid her hand back out of the comfort of its resting place. 'Oh, while I'm there, will you get me a soda?'

He stared at her. 'My God, woman!'

'What? I need to pee, and I'm also thirsty.'

Chandler sighed, shook his head again. 'Fine. One soda coming right up.'

He watched her thread her way through the crowds, join the queue. She was dressed like most of the other girls but she still stood out somehow; she always stood out; like the lone gazelle stuck in the middle of a herd of cows. Chandler kept one eye on her, moved across to the foodstall. Crying Guy was there, he noticed. Still crying. Maybe he was trying to salt his popcorn with his own tears.

He glanced back at Rachel; she was shifting from foot to foot in the queue. Maybe he'd buy her some chocolates to go with her soda. Girls liked chocolates. And nothing said 'Sorry for messing up your love-life' quite like a box of concession stand chocolates. He shuffled along in his own queue, another glance at Rachel. She'd been joined by an extremely tall girl with purple hair. More shuffling. Crying Guy was looking in his direction. Chandler tried to avoid eye contact. Look back at Rachel and Tall Girl.

My God, he thought, she is freakishly tall. If there were a Tall Girl contest, she would win. Imagine kissing her; you'd get a crick in your neck. Why am I thinking about kissing her? I have a girlfriend. A great girlfriend. I love my girlfriend. Kathy. I love Kathy. Seriously, you would dislocate your neck trying to kiss that girl. I am a terrible, terrible boyfriend.

He looked away from Tall Girl and-

Oh, great. Crying Guy.

And he was still crying.

'She broke my heart, man,' Crying Guy told him.

In a stadium with thousands of people, Chandler wondered, why pick on me? Do weirdoes have some kind of radar and just track me down?

'It's like she ripped open my chest and tore my heart right out.'

Chandler stared with polite disinterest past Crying Guy's left ear.

'Have you ever had your heart ripped out?'

'Not lately,' Chandler said, resigned to being the confidante of a crying freak in the middle of a hockey stadium's foyer.

'This used to be our place. Oh man!' Tears welled up as he tilted his head to catch the music blaring from the sound-system. 'This used to be our song.'

Chandler squinted at him. 'Your song was Eye of the Tiger?'

Words were lost in an incomprehensible wail.

'Yeah, okay, bye-bye.'

Crying Guy ambled away, still clutching his bucket of popcorn.

If anyone were to look up 'freak-magnet' in the dictionary, Chandler thought gloomily, they'd find a picture of me. It was like some sort of anti-skill and it was all his very own. He looked back at the queue, found Rachel again and found her staring at him. He smiled at her and all the lines in her face softened.

Yes, he would definitely buy her the chocolates.

ooOoo

Rachel watched with amusement as the guy who had sobbed his way through the game closed in on Chandler. She'd almost feel sorry for her friend, except that the look of barely-suppressed horror on his face was just too damn funny.

The girl behind her bumped against her.

'Sorry.'

Why was it, Rachel wondered furiously, that when people bumped into her she was always the one who ended up apologising.

'No, my bad.' The girl grinned apologetically. One of those tall, willowy creatures who always made Rachel feel short and dumpy by comparison. Pretty, too. Except that her roots were showing and it was a bad dye job. A small consolation but Rachel took it.

'Your boyfriend's hot,' the girl said suddenly.

'What?'

The girl jerked her chin in Chandler's direction. 'He's your boyfriend, right?'

'Uh-'

She blew out a breath. 'The hot ones are always either gay or taken.'

'Well, he's not gay.'

Eyebrows - also purple - were raised expressively. 'See?'

Chandler Bing: Hot Guy. Rachel looked over at where he was still trying to inch away from the crying man - who looked like he was trying to cry all over Chandler. Chandler with the sarcastic comments; Chandler with the sweater vests; Chandler, apparently, the hot guy. She studied him. She'd grown so used to him, to seeing him all the time that it been too long since she had really looked and-

He turned and looked at her and he smiled.

And she forgot that she was standing in the middle of a crowd of a few thousand people. There were no other people. Chandler Bing was smiling at her. It caught her behind her ribs, around her heart, squeezing, and she couldn't catch her breath. She felt light-headed.

But it's Chandler, she told herself fiercely. This can't happen. There are endless reasons why this can't happen.

Because even back in the day when they'd first met he'd still just been Monica's geeky older brother's good-looking friend. God, because he was Ross' best friend. Because he was one of her best friends. Because of Kathy. Because Chandler was in love with Kathy.