A/N: Completely plotless Chandler/Monica ficlet. I just... wanted to write something angst-free.

Reaping the Benefits

"Your shower is just across the hall," Rachel's palms sting as she bangs against the door for what feels like the millionth time. "Why do you have to use ours?"

It takes a few seconds, then, the water finally turns off and she hears Chandler's voice, muffled through the door. "Please. Have you seen our bathroom?"

Rachel has. She had actually been forced to live with that bathroom for some time, though she usually tries to forget about that period of her life. She grimaces, banging once more on the door as she hears the tiny snaps of bottles being opened and closed. Chandler better not be using her moisturizer.

"Monica," she whines. "Your boyfriend is hogging the bathroom."

Looking exceptionally not bothered in that specific way that Rachel knows to mean that she is actually quite pleased, Monica locates a spatula and begins to turn the bacon in the frying pan. "Now you

know how I felt when you were dating my brother."

"Oh, ha ha." Rachel raises her upper lip in another grimace, but can't come up with a good response. It only fuels her frustration. Thankfully, in that moment, the bathroom door opens and Chandler steps out followed by a cloud of steam, wearing only a t-shirt and a big towel wrapped around his hips, his hair wet and ruffled. "Finally!"

He gestures grandly with his hand, but the movement is soaked in sarcasm. "All yours."

"You know," Monica says from where she is placing the fried bacon on kitchen paper to drain the fat. "If you actually cleaned once in a while, that bathroom would be usable."

Chandler shrugs. "Gotta reap the benefits of this relationship somehow."

"I thought you reaped the benefits every night," Rachel mutters under her breath, then smiles innocently when Monica looks at her quizzically. In truth, she is a bit startled by the easy way Chandler calls it a relationship, even though she logically knows that they have been together for several months by now. Chandler had even professed his love for Monica a couple of days ago during the whole 'trying to expose each other'-fiasco. And even though Rachel had known about them for some time before that, seeing the two of them together like this is still a bit of a shock.

She knows how Monica behaves when she is in love, has lived with it several times over the years. Cheerful and energetic, but more centered, not quite as restless. Rachel knows how Chandler behaves as well, all enthusiastic puppy-love dangerously balanced with insecurities and a frustrating unwillingness to actually believe in his own happiness.

It is just difficult to put the two of them together like this.

They're Monica and Chandler. Bickering friends, not lovers. It should be like watching a car crash... except it isn't.

Yesterday Rachel had come home late and had opened the front door as silently as she could, surprised to find the apartment still fully lit but Monica nowhere to be seen. A bit curious, she had padded across the floor to her room, then jumped slightly when she noticed a slight movement from the couch. She raised a hand to her chest as if that would control her suddenly racing heart.

"Jesus, Chandler."

He had hushed her, nodding to Monica who was tucked against his side, sleeping, mouth parted just slightly. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, one of her arms carelessly draped over him. "Could you turn off the lights?" he said quietly, almost murmuring into her hair. "I can't move."

"Um, sure," Rachel whispered, feeling flustered for some reason. She had flipped the light-switch in her own room before letting the living room fall into darkness. She hesitated in the doorway, looking at the figures on the couch bathed now only in the light seeping from her own room. "What..." she said, then paused, uncertain what it was she wanted to ask.

"She worked double shifts," Chandler murmured. There was a slight sound from the cushions as he seemed to shift oh-so carefully on the couch. "Fell asleep when we watched a movie, don't want to wake her."

Rachel felt a pang in her chest, because it was so sweet and it made her miss something. Perhaps someone. She pushed the thought away before the melancholia could take over. "Can you even feel your arm anymore?"

"Not even a little" There was a bit of a groan in his voice, but it seemed to be in good humor. "But I have a good insurance, it'll cover the amputation."

Rachel rolled her eyes, but figured that he couldn't see it. "Well, have fun. Goodnight."

He mumbled something in response but Rachel couldn't quite catch it. Perhaps it had been directed at Monica and not her. She closed her bedroom door as quietly as she could manage.

The next day, Chandler occupies the bathroom for way too long, and Rachel feels like a bit of a stranger in her own home. It is annoying and feels weird, but Rachel knows that she will probably, hopefully, get used to it.

Chandler, still with the towel wrapped tightly around his hips and smelling suspiciously like Rachel's moisturizer, walks over to steal a piece of bacon from the counter. Monica slaps his hand lightly with the spatula.

Rachel rolls her eyes and slips into the bathroom.

Yeah, she will probably get used to it.