A/N: This fic, I hope you understand that unless my mind is set completely on it and if what I write that day isn't just a load of crap, I will post it. Thing is, you guys deserve the best I can write and if it's not I simply won't post it. Also, sometimes I need to just write a load of randomness that isn't even related to it and then suddenly, I was walking down the street and *BAM* a fanfiction. I hope you understand why I haven't updated it as frequently and I would like too, and find it in your cold dead hearts (I'm kiddddinnngggg) to forgive me.

So, the moment you've all been waiting for *drum roll* A NEW ROSS AND RACHEL ONE SHOTTTTT.

Disclaimer: If you think i own friends you're obviously too lazy to watch the opening credits.

Warning from me to you my friends: This is a bit aghast-y and might non go exactly how you want it... Just saying before you proceed.

She's next door, literally. All that's between them is a cold, hard wall and it's driving him slowly insane.

Sometimes he's seriously considered finding a hammer and tearing it down, but that would be reckless —and he's not taking about demolishing the wall. Because, yes she's carrying his baby, and yes, she's living with him, but that doesn't mean she feels anything.

This hasn't been constant, just lately, it's the whole baby thing —he blames the baby. Though he knows considering who's baby it is he'll love that kid more than anything he's ever loved, and cherish her every living moment. Except of course, his other kid as well, which he has with another women. Christ. Sometimes he forgets that when he's with her— her presence is almost like a bubble, a consuming force, isolating him from everything that isn't Rachel. He gets hopelessly lost inside and it's agony to get out.

The little moments make all the difference. That's when the feeling's so tangible you could slice through it and let the truth bleed from all the cracks that are so glaringly obvious yet ignored for the sake of... well... he's not quite sure.

"Ross she's kicking, I felt it again!"

His hand overlaps hers on her growing bump, and she smiles up at him, pure adoration in her gaze. Her grip on his hand is the only thing that stops his from scooping her up and making her his again.

But he knows he can't just take her hand and waltz into the sunset, laughing and skipping like everything is perfect. Because it's not, and he knows it's his fault. He broke her heart then she broke his, and before the wounds had even properly healed, they'd ripped them back open again.

It just keeps happening over and over and over... and this time, the time he feels like he's stolen from the universe, he has something he doesn't want to risk loosing for he knows he'll never get it back. There's a baby that needs them and if they hack into the iceberg once more they might just shatter it altogether. He can't do that to another one of his children. He's so lucky to be blessed with another, he thought his chances where dead long ago.

It's funny, when you think you've landed a lucky one that seems so precious and you can't think who to thank —but still you're grateful, and you hold it tight and refuse to let go. Maybe he should have fought harder for that one. But this time— His god given miracle—he has two gifts, and they are just within his reach, waiting for him to grasp them and never let go. But he just doesn't trust himself with something that priceless.

Though when you loose things you don't mean to, it's not because you got bored and wanted a new one, sometimes it's just a twist of fate, the wrong words said and it's gone, poof. Even it's ghost seems to hide from your presence. Haunting you by it's absence, leaving you wanting what isn't there.

And this time if he looses one, he looses everything, all of it broken and shattered and they'll be nothing he can do about. He's had far to many wishes and he fears this is his last one.

He can't sleep, not now, not like this.

Not with her so close.

His feet touch the soft carpet, he reaches for the wall to steady himself. It's far to late to be wandering aimlessly about, and as soon as he rises he feels his head pound and his eyes droop, struggling against his will to open. But if he gets back under his sheets, he knows he'll never sleep, he know's he spend the night thinking, thinking about her, thinking about everything. Her.

Padding through the dark, he finally manages to reach the kitchen. The only light comes from the street lamps glowing outside and the moons smile. He doesn't look up as he pries the fridge open, grabbing the liquor like its his lifeline and wrenching the cap off to throw the sweet liquid down his throat.

He turned to leave to sink back into bed, hoping the alcohol works its magic quickly. That's when his idled glance catches honey blonde and he freezes.

She's perched against the counter, staring wordlessly at him, a blue cup nestled in her hand. Her hair is delightfully mussed, and she's blinking back at him with wide, tired blue eyes.

"Can't sleep either?" He asks her quietly, running a hand through his own mattered brown locks. She smiles and shrugs, taking a sip from the seaming mug.

"I guess not, tea helps me." She eyes the bottle in his hand and clears her throat. "And I'm pregnant"

Suddenly he's leaning across from her, their faces now inches apart. "Yeh, it's not that good." She smirks slightly, a brow twitching upwards. His eyes widen "The liquor, I mean, I love your pregnant...ness" he grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

Rachel chuckles quietly, her mouth curving into a dopey smile. "hmm"

Then, she places her mug down, yawning lightly. He crinkles his nose as her breath puffs across his face.

"Oi" she mutters softly, punching him playfully on the shoulder.

He watches her quietly for a moment, and then she smiles, her eyes crinkling beautifully.

Without instructing his hands at all, he reaches forwards and tucks a lock of gold behind her ear.

Then her eyes lock with his and they're trapped again, but there's nothing to stop him this time as his mind hasn't suffered nearly enough as his heart and it's demanding him.

Ebbing silence until.

Their hands reach for each other's faces, and they clash in the middle. He's desperate for her lips as he drags her closer across the counter.

She slips around the side and presses herself to him, merging them as one. Their lips move firece but slow and it feels too right when her tongue meets his. His hands are grasping her face and she moves hers to tangle with his hair, weaving her fingers through the strands. She tugs at them, moaning when he slips his hands down to her waist and pulls her straight against his body, their child between them in her slight bump.

It escalated quickly but neither seemed to care, she eagerly allows him to wrap her legs around his waist and he lifts her effortlessly, their mouths still fused to each other, passion driving them forwards, stumbling blindly through the dark he once shuffled through sadly.

He throws her on her back against the bed and for a moment it's all a blur of want and needing and its perfect and then—

"Wait, wait...Is this a good idea?" She's pulled back, panting as she stares wide eyed at him.

Ross licks his lips, drawing away slowly. "You're right, it's probably not."

She nods, pulling her night shirt back around her and sliding off the bed. There's a hint of disappointment, but he doesn't want to push it so he lets it go, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Well, I-I'll see you tomorrow... i guess.."

And then shes gone, but shes not gone. They had it a breath away but it was too close and they couldn't take it.

It's always too close, but that never seems to matter.