Disclaimer: I do not own Friends or the characters from the series.

This takes place after The One After The Superbowl, Part 2.

Chandler walked into apartment 20, and was surprised to find Monica there, alone, curled up on the couch and frowning into the air. She didn't even change position when he walked in.

"Hey," he said, sitting in the couch next to her, looking slightly amused as he kept his gaze on her annoyed face, "What's wrong?"

She jumped in place, her eyes focusing on him, "Oh! Chandler. Hey."

"Hey. What's wrong?"

"... Nothing."

"Something is..."

She cupped her face in her hands, groaning. "Ugh...You'll think it's stupid."

"Maybe," he agreed, "but since when do you care what I think?"

She looked up, smiling despite her frustration, and rolled her eyes. "... Alright."

He waited quietly as she considered her words.

"You're a guy, right?"

"I sure hope so. Don't want to think I lived my life as a lie.".

"You're a guy - admittedly, an annoying guy from time to time - but a guy."

She was slightly smiling to him, so he didn't take offence at her comment. Somehow, he always knew Monica could never really insult him. She meant no actual harm. "I think we've established my masculinity, or lack of, so you can continue."

"Are there..." She hesitated, "are there girls that all guys are attracted to?"

He leaned slightly back, surprised at her question. It just seemed so out-of-place.

But true nonetheless.

"... Yeah," he admitted, "I guess so. Why?"

"Is Rachel one of those girls, in your opinion?" She asked, avoiding his gaze.

Now he was really surprised. Since when are Rachel and Monica strained? Though actually, now that he recalls, while he had his clothes stolen by his fourth-grade pretty nemesis, there was this supposed fight between Monica and Rachel about some actor guy. And that guy apparently favored Rachel?

But Monica was expecting an answer, so he looked at her again and nodded with a slight shrug.

"I guess she is. I mean, she has that whole cheerleader-high-school-queen-girl-next-door look to her."

"And that's attractive to everyone?"

"I guess."

"Is it to you?"

He winced immediately. The conversation was not in extremely safe waters to begin with, but now it was reaching a dangerous territory. Rachel is... Ross's crush. Ross' wish. Ross's tragic love story.

Sure, Rachel is attractive. They kissed once at some party in college, and there was this one time in 1993 or something that she popped up at the bar they hanged out in and he thought she was hot.

But...It ended there. He is not Ross.

And she is so very not his type, personality wise, so it ended there.

"Mon, why are you asking all this?"

"Because, I can never go against her and win! She is prettier than me and guys go crazy for her in a way they don't go for me -"

Whoa.

"Mon," he stopped her, "just because she's pretty doesn't mean you're not."

Monica just deflated on the chair, watching him with sad eyes.

"You're... You're beautiful, Mon. You must know that... Right?"

She shrugged and looked down. "Not as pretty as her."

"Just as pretty as her," if not more, "this is crazy talking!"

A small smile crept on her face and one of her eyebrows arched as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "... What makes you say that?"

He gulped.

Great.

He escaped a dangerous territory to have a casual walk in a minefield. You don't go around, telling your best friend (who also happens to be his other best friend's little sister) she is beautiful. Even if she is. It's asking for trouble!

But... she was looking at him, expecting an answer, and the way she looked at him gave him no other opportunity.

God, he thought amused, her future husband is screwed. He'll be one whipped guy, there's no way to actually refuse this woman, especially with that look on her face.

"Well... I don't... Know. Just that you are?" He said finally.

"You had a whole explanation to why Rachel is pretty... How am I, if at all?"

He almost rolled his eyes. She is killing him knowingly. How is he to answer that without breaking at least twenty friendship rules?!

"I... Um," he scratched his neck, looking to his side, "well, you're..."

She slightly sunk in her place, reading his stammering as an inability to come up with an answer.

"Look. Forget it. I just... Need to accept my eternal second place in my friendship with Rachel. It's just so... Hard, because I'm not a second place kind of person."

He smiled at that and shook his head. "People have different types Mon. You can't really think Rachel is everyone's first place?"

She shrugged with the slightly bitter thought of Jean-Claude Van Damme only agreeing to go out with her when he thought she'd be willing to have a threesome.

"Oh god, Mon," he passed his hand through his hair, making a point to look away from her when he tells her furthermore on the very blocked fantasy that she is to him.

Just the prospect of her thinking that she is unattractive is ridiculous and has to stop. Hopefully she'll credit everything that comes out of his mouth next to him trying to cheer her up and not him trying to hit on her.

"People have different types, Mon, and you are not second place to everyone. I know this because..." He exhaled, "because you're not to me," her head snapped up and he smiled nervously at her, passing his hand through his hair again, "look... I'd be extremely lucky, to say the least, to go out with someone even half as great as you. You're not only ridiculously pretty, but you're also kind, and passionate, and smart. You're an amazing catch, Mon, and just because some dumb actor missed that is no reason to drop all of your self-esteem, so give yourself a break, okay?"

She smiled at him, her cheeks slightly flushed. "You're not so bad yourself, Chandler Bing."

"I try my very best to be." He said, chuckling.

She leaned back in her chair and smiled at him in a way that awakened a lot of different parts in his body. Damn her and her enchanting smile. "Efforts do pay off then? Duly noted."

He was slightly wordless at the compliment she just gave him (or maybe it was casual flirting?). He just smiled at her, and unbeknown to him, his half smile, which was sweet and honest and warm was better than anything he could've said.

Not for the first time Monica reflected on how her best friend can be really cute, when he lowers down his defenses and allows his sweet, kind personality to show.

Grinning, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, beaming warmly at him as she she leaned back. "You're so wonderful. Thank you for this."

"You're... You're welcome," she spotted the hint of nervousness in his voice as he jumped up and grinned back at her, walking slowly to the fridge. "Do you have any juice?"

A/N

Well, hello! I'm back but under a different name :)

These stories I'll be posting are not new, but as I returned to the site I decided I liked them enough and figured they should be out there and shared with you. Hopefully you all liked it :D

Let me know what you think!