The One Where I Got Off The Plane

Summary: Rachel's journey from the airplane to Ross's apartment in the finale. One shot Ross and Rachel fluff told from Rachel's point of view.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, places, etc. Parts of the dialog taken from "The Last One".

I cannot believe what had just happened. I slowly begin walking down towards my seat. Ross was there saying all of those things. What was he thinking? Did he really expect me to give up my job for him? What future did we have? We would get back together for a few months, a year at best, but then we'd break up. We were Ross and Rachel after all. We could not stay together for long.

On the other hand, I could have been more polite. It was Ross, after all. The two of us have been through a lot these past ten years. The dating, the breaks - we were not on a break that time though! - and Emma. We'll always have her. I'll see him again, won't I?

No, I'm out in Paris. Yea, Ross is a doctor, but he's not one of those hot ER ones. He doesn't make that much money. He can't just fly out to Paris any time he wants. I don't have the time to fly back to New York any time I want. I can't leave things like that. It's Ross. I need to let him know that. He deserves that at least.

As I sit back down in my seat once again, I reach into my purse for my cell phone. I have to call Ross. He has to know how I feel. Of course, I would prefer to do this face to face, but I'm pretty sure we're about to take off. There is nothing wrong with any phalange, so we should be leaving momentarily. I quickly dial the number I know by heart. I can't talk to him in person though. A message is better.

Ross's familiar voice comes on and starts saying something crazy about why he was not home. I know the truth, so I don't bother to pay that much attention to his message. Finally, the beep came. I could start talking. "Ross, hi," I say in a rather pathetic beginning. "It's me. I just got back on the plane, and I just feel awful. That is so not how I wanted things to end with us." By this point, the man next to me is once again looking at me as if this message concerns him. I do my best to ignore him. "It's just that…I wasn't expecting to see you, and all of a sudden you're there saying there things…"

I don't know what else to say. This was not supposed to be this hard.

"Now I'm just sitting here thinking of all the stuff I should have said and I didn't…I mean I didn't even get to tell you that I love you too…because of course I do. I love you." Wait a minute. Am I just saying that to be polite? He said it to me. "I love you." No, I'm pretty sure I meant that. "What am I doing?" Yea, it's genuine. I love that man. "I love you! Oh, I've got to see you. I've got to get off this plane."

Now I stand up, and the guy sitting next to me pretends to have just tuned in to my conversation. He has a slightly worried look on his face. I roll my eyes at him and try to catch the stewardess' attention. "Ok, excuse me," I call.

"Miss, please, sit down," she barks. She isn't that friendly. Someone clearly needs to get laid.

"No, I'm sorry, sorry, I'm really sorry, but I need to get off the plane, ok? I need to just tell someone that I love them," I explain as I try to get past her.

She stands absolutely still and refuses to let me past. Damn, she is strong. I wonder if she and Monica know each other. Not important, Rach. "Miss, I can't let you off the plane," she tells me in that stupid voice of hers.

I refuse to give up. I'll push her down. I'll use violence if I have to. I have to talk to Ross. I try to push past her again, but she does not budge.

"I am afraid you are going to have to take a seat," she stated as she tried to push me back to my seat.

"Oh, please, miss, you don't understand," I beg as I try to resist her. She is strong, I'll give her that, but nothing can stop a woman in love. "Come on, miss, isn't there any way that you could just let me off this damn plane?" I yell. I quickly search around for something to use against her. "I'll make a scene the whole way to Paris," I threaten.

One of the passengers stands up. It's an older looking man, probably in his late forties or possibly early fifties. "I'm not flying with her on this plane," he said angrily. "Now you let her off, or I'll do my business with some other airport on another airline."

The stewardess glared at me, but she did step out of my way. "Thank you," I say calmly as I start walking towards the gate.

"Quicker," the stewardess yelled after me.

"Yes, ma'am," I responded as I rushed towards the gate. Luckily the plane had not pulled away just yet. I do not know what the delay was this time, but something was in my favor. Hopefully Ross would still be out there. I open the gate and look around. The boarding area is completely empty. Ross is nowhere to be seen. Same goes for Phoebe. They left. Could I have really taken that long? If it weren't for that bitch of a stewardess…

I sigh as I see my plane starting to pull away. Shit. My bag's still on that plane. All of my bags. My purse even. My cell phone. My cash. I can call the airline for my suitcases, but how am I supposed to get out of this airport? I really should have thought this through.

I sigh once again. Might as well walk through the airport. I might find a payphone to call Monica. She'll understand, won't she? I make it about thirty feet before I hear someone calling my name. The voice is familiar and male, but I don't think it's Ross. I turn around slowly.

"Rachel Green!" the voice calls. It's getting louder. Could they really be calling for me? I mean, there are tons of people with the last name 'Green' in the area, and Rachel is a pretty common first name. On the other hand, what are the chances of there being two Rachel Greens at the same gate in the same airport on the same night? "Rachel Green!" the voice calls again. I finally turn around completely to face whoever it is. Oh dear god.

"Barry," I say slowly in recognition of my ex-fiancé. To think I almost married that man…Ew. I can't deal with that. I just need to find a ride home. If Barry can give me that, then I'm eternally grateful, and I wish him the best with whatever he does next.

Oh no. He's looking at me. He has that look in his eyes. It's the same look he got when he asked me what I thought of Aruba for our honeymoon spot. "Barry," I repeat in a slower tone.

"Hi, Rachel," he says casually. The two of us start walking towards the exit. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Trying to fix the biggest mistake I've made with my life," I say. "Besides, of course, saying I'll marry you," I add. Barry shrugs. "You?" I ask to be polite.

"Just came back from Aruba," he said proudly. Damn, he really is absurdly fond of that place.

"Alone?" I question. Not that I'm judging him or anything…

"Now I'm alone," Barry pointed out. "There was a woman involved, but she dumped me. I guess it wasn't meant to be." He looked over at me again. "Whose heart did you break this time?" he asked.

I frown at him. "No one's," I snap. "I'm actually not going to Paris to prevent breaking Ross's heart," I inform him. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Paris?" Barry asked. "Do you even speak French?"

"Not since high school," I answer softly. "Look, can you give me a ride to Ross's or not?" I ask.

Barry thinks it over for a moment. He did not say no, so that was a good sign. On the other hand, he still has to say yes. Come on, Barry, I mentally tell him. This is not that hard a decision. Help out the woman you almost married.

"Ok," Barry said finally. "As long as you don't make fun of me for what happened in Aruba."

"Deal," I agree as I follow him to his car. I look around the airport parking lot. I know that he's going to be in one of the further lots since he was parking there for a long period of time, but I cannot spot his car. We approach the backmost lot, and I keep looking. It is nowhere in sight. "Barry," I finally say.

"Yea?" he asks as he starts walking down an aisle of cars.

"Where's your car?" I ask. I'm almost afraid to hear the answer. The only cars left in the row are old cars. Barry lost all his money and now has to drive an old two mile an hour thing. No, we're passing those cars. Things are good again.

"Traded it in," Barry said as he stopped walking. "Bike's better for traveling," he said as he handed me a helmet.

Woah. Wait a minute. No one ever told me that I would have to ride on a motorcycle to get to Ross. I know I love him, but this is a bit extreme. A motorcycle. "Barry," I say again. "Is this some sort of mid-life crisis?" I ask.

Barry shrugs. "Perhaps," he says. "You want a ride or not?"

He has a point. I need to get to Ross, and I need to get there ASAP. "Fine," I say. "But if you tell anyone that you got me on this thing…"


The ride is not going as horribly as I would have thought. We are only about ten minutes away from Ross's place. Then it happens. The motorcycle starts slowing down, and Barry pulls it over. This is so not funny. I need to get to Ross's. "Barry, why are we stopping?" I ask impatiently.

This is crazy. I can see Ross's building. Kind of. Maybe. Ok, I can't, but if I were taller I probably could.

"Something's wrong with it," Barry said. "Sorry, Rach," he says. I can tell he doesn't really mean it. Ugh. Men.

Great. Now what? I still have to get to Ross's. I can't walk there. I'm not wearing the right shoes. Maybe if the distance was a bit shorter…Wait, what's that? A car is slowing down. It's coming to a stop. I turn around.

"Need a ride?" the too-familiar voice asks. She then laughs her annoying signature laugh which I would be willing to hear every day if it would bring me to Ross.

"Janice, are you serious?" I ask gratefully.

The woman, if you can call her that, rolled her eyes. "Get in," she commanded me.

I didn't have to be told twice. "Janice, thank you so much," I begin. "You have no idea what this means to me," I say.

"You can tell Chandler that I'm a happy woman," Janice interrupts me.

"Beg pardon?" I ask in shock.

"You heard me," Janice says. "Wait, where the hell am I taking you?" she asks.

"Oh, Ross's," I answer simply. "Formerly Ugly Naked Guy's place," I add since I don't know how long it's been since Janice has been to any one of our apartments. She could ramble on about Chandler all she wanted. I was not even listening to her anymore. I had to figure out what I should say to Ross. Something simple like 'I love you', which is the truth. It's what I feel. Should I try to apologize for my behavior? Should I just pull him into some big kiss and try to forget about the airport? Well, let's face it, the less I remember about the airport, the better.

"So can you tell him that?" Janice asks. Damn her.

"Uh, sure," I say as her car pulls up in front of Ross's place. "Thank you again, Janice," I say as I exit. I rush to the sidewalk and hear her speed away. Thank god.

I draw in a deep breath and walk up to the door of the building. Luckily someone else is exiting, so I can get in without buzzing. I rush over towards his door. Before opening it, I try to tell if he is home. I place my ear up to his door. I hear sounds. He's listening to my message. Oh, damn. I forgot that thing was still playing. In the rush, I must have forgotten to hang up. How much of it did he hear?

"Oh, come on, miss, isn't there any way that you could just let me off the--" I hear my angry voice say on Ross's machine. The beep cuts me off. I guess that's how much got recorded. Ross was clearly angry. I could hear him trying to rewind it as if that would tell him anything.

"Did she get off?" he asks the machine loudly. I seize the opportunity and open the door slowly.

I'm standing in the doorway. He does not notice me. He is too busy trying to figure out what happened to me. "I got off the plane," I tell him.

He turns around quickly. "Y-you got off the plane?" he asks.

Well, duh. I'm not a ghost. I don't say that though. I just nod. Ross rushes over to me and I towards him. We fall into each other's arms and start kissing each other. Nothing else matters. I know he is feeling the exact same thing that I feel. It does not matter what happened in the past. We're here now, and we're in love now. Nothing can screw that up. We're meant for each other.

"I do love you," I tell him.