


One Last Night

by timeaftertime09



Category: Ugly Betty
Genre: Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2013-12-21 04:44:52
Rating: M
Chapters: 30
Words: 84,202
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5921121/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/2336510/timeaftertime09
Summary: What could have happened if we had seen more of Daniel & Betty the night she left her family's dinner to help him with MODE's 100th anniversary issue.





	1. Chapter 1

Betty and Daniel were in his office. Even though Betty had supposedly left her family's dinner for work reasons, she and Daniel ended up spending the majority of the night talking and laughing over takeout.

She had tried so hard to come up with a way to tell him she was leaving, but every time she did, he said or did something that compelled her to avoid ruining one of the last evenings they'd have together.

Daniel leaned over Betty, one hand on the desk and his other arm casually resting around her shoulders, while they both tried to pick out a photo for the editor feature in Mode's anniversary issue.

Their body language and conversation with each other was so open and natural that any outsider would have assumed that they were a long-established couple.

"I don't know, Daniel. We've looked through all of your pictures from Mode – even in the archives – and there's not one that represents the way you are now," Betty said, her eyes tired of staring at the computer screen.

"What about the first one?" Daniel suggested, ready to give up.

"Daniel, we've been over this before – it's your 'fish face' – your poser look. I'm not going to let you humiliate yourself," she insisted.

"I think I look kinda like a well-trained model." Daniel proudly smiled and defended himself.

"That's not the 'M' word I would've used . . ." Betty playfully disagreed.

"Hey!" he protested. Betty spotted a camera lying on the filing cabinet.

"I've got an idea . . ." she picked up the camera and slyly grinned.

"No! _Betty_ . . ." Daniel backed away.

"Seriously?" he said.

Betty smiled and nodded.

"Come on Daniel, show me what you got!" she said, turning on the radio. The sounds of Kesha's 'Tik Tok' filled the room as she aimed the camera and started shooting.

Daniel really got into it with sexy stares and natural grins, then started goofing off a little. He grabbed the camera from Betty and pushed her in front of it.

"Daniel –no!" she giggled and protested. This is about _your_ picture – not _mine_!" she reminded him.

"Oh, come on Betty - have a little fun!" he pleaded.

Betty gave in, taking off her glasses to avoid a glare. After a moment, she finally started feeling comfortable.

"Work it, Betty. Work it!" Daniel joked, encouraging her. "Beautiful!" he exclaimed, then caught her in a more serious, sexy pose. "You're beautiful." he said, so quietly he wasn't even sure she heard him, as he stared a little too long and almost dropped the camera.

Betty broke his distraction by putting the camera on the tripod and dragging him in with her.

"Come on!" she grabbed his hand as they had fun posing together in clichéd cover couple poses.

Betty stuck her hand on Daniel's chest while giving a sultry look into the camera and he held her leg up and glared sexily at her. Then she grabbed his tie while giving him a playful "come-hither" look. They burst out laughing at some of the poses they made.

Daniel moved behind Betty and wrapped his arms around her as they continued to laugh. But when they caught each other's eyes, they suddenly realized it wasn't so funny anymore. They finally stopped when they realized the camera had run out of memory.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Ooh – what about this one?" she pointed out, after they'd uploaded them to the computer, Alicia Keys' 'Unthinkable' playing in the background.

"You sure?" he asked.

"Positive. It's the real you – the admirable, natural, but still confident guy you are today." she sweetly stared up at him, realizing how much he'd grown in the past four years, how much they'd both grown.

He gazed back at her, their lips mere inches apart from each other, when Betty's phone started to vibrate. They awkwardly pulled away and Betty fumbled for her phone.

"It's just a reminder I had to myself to get something for Justin before I forgot it in the morning. I didn't realize how late it was," she said, surprised.

"I'd better call the car service," she began to dial the number.

"Why don't I walk you home?" Daniel suggested.

"You don't have to do that, Daniel. My apartment's in the opposite direction from yours," Betty said, torn between the urge to stay with him a little longer, and the need to go before anything more happened.

"I want to," Daniel said, hoping she'd give in.

"Ok," she smiled, nervously.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As they walked along the streets of Manhattan, among the city's lights, Betty sensed a strange yet familiar feeling in the air. She couldn't quite pinpoint it, but knew if she kept obsessing over it she'd go crazy. And there was no sense in wasting one of the last moments she'd have with her friend to the quiet of the night.

"Have you heard from Alexis lately?" she broke the silence.

"Yeah, she and DJ are still living in Paris. DJ's captain of his freshmen soccer team and Alexis is busy overseeing fashion shows," Daniel said with a bittersweet smile.

"You miss them, don't you?" she said, sympathetically.

"Yeah . . . So – are Hilda and Bobby enjoying married life?" he changed the subject.

"They've already started apartment hunting. Justin has taken to being their unofficial realtor and is driving Hilda nuts." she laughed. "Speaking of moving, Daniel, there's something I've been meaning to tell you . . ." Betty looked nervously up at him.

Suddenly rain started pouring down.

"Oh my god!" she laughed in disbelief.

"Come on – let's go!" Daniel grinned and offered Betty his hand as they made a run for the closest cover.

"I've never run that fast before!" she said, out of breath.

"I'm surprised you could in those heels!" he chuckled, also out of breath.

Betty smiled, her hair tangled in her face from running, as she started to fix it.

"Here, let me," Daniel offered, delicately brushed her hair out of her face, letting his hands linger as he stared into her eyes.

He leaned in and gently kissed her softly but fully on the lips, feeling Betty kiss him back. He slowly pulled away, searching for any reassurance of how she felt about it.

Betty, a little bewildered at first, smiled and reciprocated by kissing Daniel timidly and then passionately.

When they finally broke there was an awkward silence. Betty fidgeted, cleaning her glasses. They both stared at the ground back and back at each other, unsure of what should come next. The weather broke their silence.

"Look – it stopped raining," Betty noticed.

"I guess we should go while we can," Daniel suggested.

They walked the rest of the way without speaking, and finally reached the steps of Betty's building.

"I guess I should be heading back . . ." Daniel said looking down at his feet, kicking a pebble with his toe.

"Yeah . . ." Betty agreed a little reluctantly.

"Goodnight, Betty," Daniel said and started to walk away.

"Daniel – wait!" she stopped him. "You can't go off like that – you're soaking wet. Come inside and dry off," she shyly smiled.

They entered her apartment and Betty immediately found a towel for Daniel, then quickly went to change and search for clothes for him to wear.

"I think I saw some of Bobby's clothes accidentally in with mine, the last time I did laundry at Papi's," she yelled to Daniel from her bedroom. "Ah! Found them!" she called, before coming out in hot pink PJ pants with tiny black polka dots and a black cami.

Daniel was shirtless, as he continued to dry himself off with the towel. They both dropped what they were holding when they saw each other, then fumbled to pick everything up. Betty managed to gain her composure and showed Daniel the bathroom.

"I'll call the driver for you," she said. Daniel came out of the bathroom dressed in a tight black t-shirt and jeans.

"Do they fit ok?" Betty asked, inappropriately thinking to herself they certainly _looked_ like they did.

"They're great, thanks. I'll get them back to you tomorrow," Daniel smiled, as the phone rang.

"That must be the car service," Betty guessed, answering it and nodding. She hung up.

"Well, I'd better go . . ." Daniel headed toward the door.

Betty reluctantly followed, opening it for him. They lingered in the doorway for a few seconds, both unsure of whether they wanted the night to end. Daniel eventually leaned in and quickly but firmly kissed Betty's lips.

"Goodnight, Betty. See you tomorrow," he said.

"'Nite, Daniel," Betty smiled and closed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been about a week since Betty had left for London. Daniel sat at his desk and gazed longingly at one of the pictures he and Betty had taken together the night before things got bad. He ran his fingers along the frame and tried to figure out for the hundredth time what went wrong.

Did she run because of him? He knew he couldn't face it if she did. It's why he acted like he didn't care, that that night meant nothing, why he practically burned down his office, why he refused to answer her calls, why he didn't come to her party, why he never said "Goodbye."

He had shut her out because she had shut him out and because he couldn't take the pain. But then again, not knowing if she really felt the same for him or not had been killing him inside. Torn, he slammed the picture face down and raked his fingers through his hair.

Hair. He smiled and remembered her making fun of him for drunk-dialing her about it. Betty. Not a second went by without something that reminded him of her. "Stop it!" He told himself.

He pulled out the mock-up of MODE – back to work. Back to a distraction. Leafing through the pages, he came across the editor section. He looked at his spread as an editor – his "fish face" on one side and of him now on the other. He read in his bio – the last gift Betty had given him - about how much he had evolved as an editor since he was first instated. How much he had helped MODE evolve.

And he realized, as much as he appreciated the opportunity his father had given him and the experience he had gained, it wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't something he had earned. He had never had a chance to really find what he wanted and make it happen.

He walked out of his office, laid the book on Wilhelmina's desk, and prepared for a new beginning.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Betty was so excited to be in London. She loved her new job, the people, the city, and the atmosphere. Everything was fresh and different. It was perfect, except for one thing – Daniel. She thought about that night all the time . . . getting lost in his blue eyes and longing for his lips to touch hers if only for one more time. She always found herself wanting to tell him something – how her day went, or an insignificant detail that only he would appreciate.

She missed his rants and his adorable idiosyncrasies, the way he could always make her laugh or comfort her after a rough day. She always reached for her phone to text him or leave a message – to hear his voice.

But she knew there wasn't any use – he hated her. Mrs. Meade was wrong – Daniel couldn't stand to look at her or to even speak to her over the phone. He thought she betrayed him and everything they'd grown to be. She'd never see him again . . .

Hilda interrupted her thoughts with a phone call.

"Hey, Hilda! Yeah, I'm on my way to lunch before heading back to the office. What's up?" Unaware of her surroundings, Betty continued to walk and talk through Trafalgar Square, bumping into a waiting Daniel.

"Betty?" he said, trying to act surprised.

"Daniel? What are you doing here?" Betty asked, truly shocked, completely forgetting about Hilda.

They sat on the steps as Daniel got Betty up to speed on what had gone on the past few weeks and apologized for not saying "Goodbye."

"I guess it's my turn to apologize." Betty said. "I should've told you the minute I decided to come here. I wanted to – I wanted so badly to tell my best friend the great news. But I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want to see that look on your face. _I_ didn't want to say 'Goodbye.' So I kept putting it off. I was going to tell you during that amazing night we had, but I got caught up in the spell and chickened out again. Then Marc had to overhear my conversation with Hilda, and the rest you already know," she explained.

"It's okay." Daniel assured her. "I guess we both handled the situation badly. But I think we can start over – if you want," he offered her his hand.

"Definitely." Betty accepted it.

"Come on." Daniel pulled her up. "Let's take a walk," he said, guiding her down the steps.

They passed through the streets of London, enjoying the sights and sounds, and it felt as if they were never apart. As they stopped at Betty's office building, there was an awkward pause.

"So I guess this is it . . ." she said, reluctantly. "You're going back to New York tonight?" she fished.

Daniel paused.

"I, uh, I have a confession to make," he nervously took her hands. "I didn't come here for closure. I want a new beginning, a new life – with you in it, if you want to be. I've spent most of my life dating random women, not really thinking about a future. But you changed me. You made me see what I really want – what I really need. And that's you Betty. You're everything I could ever dream of," he admitted.

"Daniel . . ." Betty tried to speak but Daniel continued.

"I guess on some level, I always knew there was something about you I couldn't resist. You're beautiful – inside _and_ out. You're smart and funny. You drive me crazy, but you always know how to keep me on my toes," he grinned.

She blushed, surprised he felt that way about her.

"You always know just the right thing to say or do to get me through anything. I can live without you, but I don't want to. You're like home to me. When you're not around, I don't feel whole. I know it took me four years to realize that. And I know I'm a screw-up and I won't always get things right. God, I can't even count how many times I made mistakes . . ." he went on.

"Daniel . . ." Betty tried to speak again, unsuccessfully.

"But I've learned. You taught me how to be a better man, the man I want to be. I kept searching for the right woman to spend my life with, and it turns out she was right in front of me all along. Look, I know I might be going too fast for you . . ." he prepared himself for rejection.

"Daniel," tears welled up in her eyes as she tried again and failed to get his attention.

"But I'm willing to wait as long as you need. All I'm asking is a chance . . ." he began to plead.

Betty suddenly pulled Daniel into a passionate kiss, leaving him flustered.

"Has anyone ever told you, you talk too much?" she teased. Daniel smiled, embarrassed.

"I'm in love with you, Betty," he revealed.

"I'm in love with you, too," Betty confessed.

They both smiled, shyly, looking down at the ground before back up at each other.

"Can I take you to dinner?" he asked.

"I'd love that," she grinned, just as the clock chimed. "I've got to get back to work," she said, hugging him like she never wanted to let go.

"I'll call you," he said, sweetly kissing her lips.

She rested her forehead on his as he brought his hand down to hers.

"You'd better," she teased.

She reluctantly pulled away and walked toward the steps of the building, looking back at Daniel and grinning giddily, her hand still holding onto his until their arms couldn't reach any further.

Daniel stared at Betty as she confidently walked away, beaming with joy, pride, and relief, thinking: That's _my_ girl!


	3. Chapter 3

Betty's leg was sprawled out on the bed, stuck outside the sheets. Her IPod alarm, playing Latin music, suddenly blasted throughout the messy room. She sleepily groaned, reaching over Daniel's chest to turn it off.

"Baby, you know I can't Salsa . . ." he muttered in his sleep.

"Sure you can, sweetie. I taught you some killer moves over the phone, remember?" Betty said as she kissed Daniel's lips. "Now get up – we don't want to be late for work!" she commanded, getting out of bed and putting on her robe.

Daniel happily stared at her, pulled on his pants, and followed.

"Well I don't know about _want to_. . ." he teased.

"Ok, ok – _need to_ – is that better?" Betty smiled and playfully smacked his ass, "Let's go!" she exclaimed, going into the kitchen to start making coffee.

Daniel came up behind her, wrapping his arms her.

"We seriously need to clean this place up before my family gets here next week. Papi would have a heart attack if he found out you were living with me." Betty said.

"I thought your father liked me? He always seemed to anyway." Daniel questioned.

"He does. You left your career, your family, everything you had and moved to another country just to be with me - even if you still won't admit it," she gave him a look.

"Hey, I was tired of working at a job I didn't earn – and I needed a change of scenery. You were just the icing on the cake," Daniel grinned, weaseling his way out.

"Mmmhmm. . . right . . ." she laughed in disbelief. "Daniel, you poured your heart out to me – it was so obvious," she smirked.

"Fine. Just shoot down my ego and make me pathetic," he pouted.

"You're not pathetic – you're adorable and romantic," she smiled and tweaked his nose. "Anyway, despite that my father has always liked you, he's still a traditionalist. We had what – three and a half dates before we slept together?" Betty recalled.

"Hey – it was four dates," Daniel corrected her.

"Coffee is not a real date, Daniel – especially not when it was on our way to work. And we moved in together a week later. We didn't have any courtship, really," Betty argued back.

"I think four years of spending practically every hour with each other counts. I mean we spent more time with each other than anyone else," Daniel pointed out.

"True, but I meant a normal one. Anyway, I'm just saying I think we need to lay low with my family until we find the right time to tell them the news," she said.

"Okay . . ." Daniel agreed.

"Why don't you go take a shower and I'll finish the coffee and make us breakfast – but don't use all the hot water!" Betty warned.

"How about we conserve water _and_ time . . .?" Daniel suggested.

"Mmm . . . I love the way you think! I can finish starting the coffee and meet you there," Betty said.

Daniel quickly kissed her lips and ran off.

After a few minutes, Betty headed toward the bathroom, when she heard a knock at the door.

"I wonder who that could be? Christina, maybe?" she guessed, opening the door to see her entire family.

"Surprise!" they exclaimed.

"Hey! What are you guys doing here? You aren't supposed to be here 'til next week!" Betty happily, yet a little nervously asked.

"Well, _I_ thought we should call first, but Papi wanted it to be a big surprise . . ." Hilda explained as they all filed into Betty's London flat.

They started talking and catching up when a wet Daniel came down the hall in nothing but a towel.

"Hey, baby – I thought you were going to join . . . me . . .?" he yelled, but trailed off when he noticed everyone staring at him.

"Look at that six-pack!" Justin muttered to Austin.

"Justin!" Hilda scolded.

"Hi, Mr. Suarez . . . Hi . . . all of Betty's family . . ." he swallowed, red faced and embarrassed.

"Hey, Daniel? Uh, why don't you go get ready for work – you have that big meeting today, right?" Betty quickly ran over to him and hinted.

He cleared his throat.

"Yeah, Betty – thanks for letting me use your shower – mine's broken," he smiled, trying to cover.

She muttered for him to go change and shoved him along.

"So! What does everyone want to do today? I've also got a meeting this morning, but my afternoon's free . . ." Betty attempted to change the subject.

"Mija, what are you doing?" Ignacio interrupted.

"Well we all know _who_ she's doing . . ." Hilda smirked.

"_Hilda!_" Betty exclaimed in protest.

Bobby snickered and Hilda jabbed him.

"What? You can make a crack but I can't laugh?" he defended himself.

Elena tried to distract Ignacio.

"Sweetheart, why don't you leave Betty's love life alone and concentrate on your beautiful new granddaughter?" she reached to Hilda for Rosalina.

Everyone started arguing and talking at once. The baby began to cry. Betty slowly backed away from the chaos as Daniel, fully dressed, came back into the room.

"How's it going?" he whispered into Betty's ear.

"You think if we sneak out, they'll even notice?" she wondered, desperately. "Help!" she pleaded.

Daniel whistled, causing everyone to become silent.

"Okay, everyone, look I know you have a lot of questions, but right now, Betty and I only have fifteen minutes before we need to leave for work. So can we please just table this discussion 'til later on?" he requested.

Her family reluctantly agreed.

"Okay. Betty – go take a shower." Daniel told her.

"Thank you!" she mouthed to him, before rushing off.

"The rest of you – there's a bakery across the street where you can have breakfast, and then there are some places nearby to go shopping afterwards. We'll meet you back here at 1:00 and go to lunch," Daniel showed them out the door, shutting it, and sighing.

Betty came out ten minutes later and planted a big steamy kiss on Daniel.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"For being you," she smiled. "Thank you for helping me deal with my family. I know they can be a little much at times," she cringed.

"It's cool, believe me – I'd trade them any day over mine," Daniel joked.

"Oh come on, Daniel, at least your mom's pretty sweet," she said, encouragingly.

"Yeah, but then there's Alexis, and Tyler – and don't forget my father," he looked down at the floor.

"Your father may not have been the most upstanding man, but he did love you," Betty pointed out.

"Yeah, and he was the one who brought you into my life. I'll always be grateful to him for that," Daniel said.

"Me, too." Betty smiled.

"So did you end up telling them yet?" Daniel asked.

"Do you honestly think I got a word in edge-wise? Besides, I want to tell them together," Betty said.

"Good point – maybe this afternoon . . . Let's go," Daniel smiled and grabbed her sparkling hand.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you all for your responses! They're greatly appreciated. I'm already working on the next chapter, so hopefully I'll have it out by the end of this weekend. Enjoy! :)_

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"Well _that_ went well . . ." Betty sarcastically commented as she and Daniel burst into her spacious, classically decorated office, much different from the modern clear walls and lines of MODE, and slammed the door. "I can't believe someone accidentally cancelled the photographer! Now the models are backing out, and the whole issue is on hold. If I didn't know any better, I'd think Wilhelmina was behind it," she complained.

They both laughed.

"But we both know she's happily taken over your job, and doesn't have any interest in a magazine featuring 'real world' people and issues," she said.

"I can deal with it, if you want to spend the day with your family," Daniel offered.

"No – I know you have the experience, but it's my job now, so I need to take care of it personally. Be thankful for your less stressful position as Creative Director," she paced back and forth, trying to think.

"You know you can do this, right? I mean how many times did you get me out of messes or give me pep-talks?" he encouraged her.

"I know, and a few minutes from now I'll be my normal positive self. You just never knew I always quietly freaked out before I came in to help you through a crisis," she revealed.

"I guess the only time when I saw you completely flip out was when Matt tried to sabotage your shoot, because he thought we were sleeping with each other," Daniel recalled.

"I'll never forget how fast you knocked him out, and then told the entire staff 'If you mess with Betty, you mess with me!'" she fondly remembered.

"Yeah, I guess everyone else saw we were practically an item, before we did," Daniel laughed and Betty smiled.

"I know this is a lot to ask, but could you take my family out, and maybe show them around the city? I'll try to get this taken care of as soon as I can and meet you guys later," she pleaded, grabbing his hands.

"No problemo," Daniel faked a smile, quickly kissing her lips as he started to leave.

"Wait a minute," she put her hand on his chest to stop him. "You're really not okay with this," she realized.

"What do you mean?" Daniel feigned innocence.

"'No problemo.'? In Daniel, that means 'I'm doing it but I don't like it,'" she knowingly translated.

"Where'd you get that idea?" he laughed.

"I know you. You said the exact same thing when I asked you to sign my release form at MODE. And we _and_ half the staff know what happened after that," she pointed out.

"I'm not going to set fire to myself. I'm just a little nervous about spending the day alone with your family after what happened this morning. I love your family, but they all know now that I'm not just a friend anymore, and they know my track record isn't the greatest," he admitted.

"Daniel, you'll be fine. Just ignore any inappropriate questions Hilda and Justin ask, talk sports with Papi and Bobby, and you'll do great," she assured him.

"Besides, I'm sure there'll be a bonus in it for you later . . ." Betty seductively kissed his lips.

Daniel moved his lips behind her ear, then on her neck, his hands gravitating toward her ass.

"_Aah-_" she warned, pulling his hands off. "Later . . ." she slyly grinned.

Daniel playfully pouted.

"Now go!" she giggled, pushing him out the door. Oh, how she loved that man . . . But back to work.

"Charlotte, how did you do on convincing the models to stick around?" Betty ran out to ask her assistant.

"I managed to get them to break for lunch on us – which I already got them - and meet back in the closet at 3:00PM. They'll only stay for an hour after that," the short, average-looking, slightly quirkily dressed, early twenties girl, with mid-length, reddish-brown, layered hair answered.

"Great. Not much time but at least we've still got them here. Oh – could you . . ." Betty started to ask.

Charlotte handed her a paper bag.

"Here's your lunch!" she smiled.

"Thank you. See, you'll be moving up in no time!" Betty ran back to her dark cherry wood desk and started racking her brain for a last minute photographer while she scarfed down her sandwich.

"Marc?" Betty tried a last resort.

"Hey, Big Ben! Don't tell me - they canned you already?" he said, a little too eagerly.

"Noooo . . . But I do need a favor. Our photographer bailed due to . . ." she attempted to explain.

"Zzzzzzzzzz . . ." Marc cut her off with fake snores. Betty huffed.

"You mentioned at one point that Cliff had moved out here and was looking for some work," she continued.

"Yeah, what's your point?" he said, hurriedly.

"Do you happen to have his contact number?" she asked.

"What's in it for me?" Marc inquired.

"Two roundtrip open-ended tickets to London for you and Troy?" Betty tried.

"All expenses paid?" he asked.

"Don't push it!" Betty warned.

"Okay, fine," Marc grumbled, giving her the number and hanging up.

Betty shook her head, rolling her eyes at Marc's typical attitude, and dialed Cliff's number. She proceeded to offer him a position as a full-time photographer. With all the things that had gone wrong, she figured it was worth the money to always have a backup.

"Bridget?" Betty stormed up to the reception area. "Bridget?" Betty looked all around the boxed desk area.

Suddenly, a wavy-haired strawberry blonde head popped up.

"Heey, Burrito Booty!" she smiled.

"Amanda, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be working in the closet," Betty said, irritated. She now had a feeling why the photo shoot got screwed up.

"Yeah, well Bridget needed to take an unexpected break, and I was bored working on plus-sized rags and needed the extra cash, so I'm covering for her," Amanda explained. Betty sighs.

"Did you happen to get a call from Luca Seganti's reps, confirming the shoot today?" Betty inquired.

"Well, there was some old man on the phone who kept talking gibberish . . . I yelled at him to speak American and he hung up . . . Seriously, people need to stop making up their own words and get with the program . . ." Amanda answered.

Betty wondered to herself why the hell she ever hired her.

"Amanda! Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused by doing that? That was our photographer for today's shoot, and today was the only day we could get both his and the models' schedules to coincide," she yelled.

"Looks like someone hasn't had their taco fix in a while – Oooo – are you and Lover Boy on the outs?" Amanda asked.

"What? _No_ – Amanda!" Betty didn't know how much more she could take.

"Oh, good – 'cause I was just thinking since I'm low on dough and you and I've both shagged him, we could all shack up together and be like The Three Musketeers – you know 'All for one and one for all' . . . Mmm!" she moaned.

"Eww! Gross!" Betty turned and walked away. She didn't have time for Amanda's twisted thoughts.

She rushed out of the building, needing a few minutes of fresh air before she went to meet the models. She ended up almost running into someone in her haste.

"Betty?" he said.

"Matt? Oh my god! How are you?" she asked, surprised, and hugged him. "So what are you doing in London? I thought you were still in Africa," she wondered.

"I'm actually interviewing for the Global Editor position. I was just checking the place out before my meeting tomorrow. What are you doing here – don't you still work at MODE?" he asked.

"Actually, I'm the Editor in Chief for B.A.M." she answered.

"Wow! In charge of your own magazine – you really have gone places since I last saw you," Matt said, amazed. "You want to grab dinner, later on?" he asked.

Betty tried to interrupt him.

"Don't worry - I'm not trying to bribe my way into the position – I just want to catch up and maybe see where we stand on a personal level . . ." he assured her.

Betty stopped him.

"Matt, I'd love to – but I'm with someone. I just got engaged," she tried to let him down easy.

"Oh. That's okay. Probably not anyone I know, since you're in London now, right?" he assumed.

"It's Daniel," she told him.

"Wow. That's great!" he faked enthusiasm. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised. No one could ever separate you two – it was bound to happen sooner or later," he replied.

There was an awkward silence.

"So, I guess I'll see you at the interview tomorrow?" Betty said.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." Matt nodded, walking away.

Betty looked at her watch and headed toward the closet. Amanda was helping the models with their final touches. She paced back and forth, wondering where Cliff was when Charlotte came up to Betty.

"The models are getting restless. What should I do?" she asked.

"Here's Cliff's number. See if you can track him down and call me when you do," Betty told her.

Charlotte started to go off when Betty's phone rang. She motioned for Charlotte to wait.

"Hello? What? Oh my god – are you okay?" she asked. "No. No, Cliff. I completely understand. It's fine. I'll just figure something else out. Get some rest and I'll see you in a couple of days," Betty hung up.

"Turns out Cliff was just in an accident on his way here," Betty informed Charlotte. "Everyone's okay, but he's still a little shaken up, so he can't make it in," she threw up her hands, exasperated.

"What can I do?" Charlotte asked.

"Get them some sample bags, and make sure they get paid for their time." Betty said, then walked over to the models.

"Everyone, I apologize for all that happened today. There were extenuating circumstances that could not be helped. We appreciate your time and patience, and hope you'll accept our invitation to come back for a later issue. Thank you." Betty apologized and walked off to figure out what to do next, Charlotte following behind.

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Meanwhile, Matt answered his phone in a café nearby.

"Did you get it done?" he asked, discreetly.

"All taken care of, bro!" the voice on the other end replied.

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Back in her office, Betty stared blankly at her computer screen.

"Any ideas?" she hopelessly asked her assistant.

"Didn't you mention Daniel doing a blank cover for MODE once?" Charlotte started.

Betty pulled it up on her computer and contemplated the idea.

"Yeah, but it's already been done, and it's not appropriate for this issue. I don't think having a blank cover when the theme is "Love & Success" sends the greatest message," Betty laughed. "Good suggestion, though," she said.

Charlotte noticed Betty's screensaver, which had the photos she and Daniel had taken together at his office on it.

"Those are so great! You guys look like you're models," she exclaimed.

"Charlotte, you just gave me an idea," Betty smiled.

Charlotte looked at Betty, puzzled.

"What if we use these photos for the cover?" she suggested.

"That's brilliant!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"It's not too narcissistic?" she second guessed herself.

"Not at all. First of all, we're desperate here. And second, it totally goes with the theme: You're successful in life and love, and had to work extremely hard to do so. Yours and Daniel's story would be perfect, and very humbling to our readers," Charlotte assured her.

"Ok. Great. Thanks. I'll run it by Daniel and then we should be good to go!" Betty said, excitedly.

"Great," Charlotte smiled.

"Do you need anything else?" she asked.

"No, enjoy the rest of the day off – I've got to meet Daniel and my family," she answered, packing up her things.

As Charlotte left, Betty called Daniel.

"Hey, you . . ." she smiled as she started walking toward the door.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you again for all the responses!_

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While Betty was at B.A.M., Daniel was struggling with his own issues. You can _do_ this, he told himself. He'd had meals with them before – hell, they had taken care of him when he was sick with a hangover. He'd even decorated their Christmas tree with them, while sharing intimate details of his less-than-perfect childhood.

He taught Justin how to play basketball, they harbored his fugitive mother . . . He'd paid for their plane tickets to Mexico when Mr. Suarez was deported . . . He was invited to Hilda and Bobby's wedding . . . They were practically family already – why was this so difficult? He felt like he was being judged earlier that morning, standing practically naked, vulnerable and on display.

Before, there was no pressure – he was just Daniel - Betty's crazily flawed boss and friend. But now that they knew he had more in mind, Daniel couldn't help but feel apprehensive. He didn't want to let them down, let Betty down - do or say something dumb-ass. _Stop it! It's all in your head_, he tried to convince himself as he went to meet the Suarezes.

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After they had already ordered, Ignacio brought up the dreaded subject.

"So, Daniel. I know you're a good man and I don't mean to pry, but I care about my daughter very much, and after witnessing the display this morning I was just wondering what your intentions were?" he delicately inquired.

Daniel took a deep breath, as everyone waited for his response.

"Mr. Suarez, I want you to know I'm not playing any games. I'm in love with your daughter and I'd never do anything to intentionally hurt her. She's my whole world and I have and would give up everything for her," Daniel nervously told him.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cry," Hilda said, fanning her face.

Ignacio's serious face broke into a welcoming smile.

"I'm glad to hear that. And relax - you don't have to be so formal. This isn't the Spanish Inquisition," he assured Daniel as he patted him on the back. Daniel let out a sigh of relief and smiled, sheepishly.

"Soooo . . . when's the wedding?" Justin nosily asked.

"Justin! Leave the man alone. These things take time," Hilda stopped him.

"But Mom, this is the classic modern-day love story movies are made of – a man crosses the ocean to be with the woman he loves - there's gotta be a fairytale ending!" he defended himself. "Right, Austin?" he asked.

"I'm just gonna stay out of this . . ." Austin said, trying to be neutral.

"Hey, you and me both, pal," Bobby agreed.

"Now, what I wanna know is how in the world you managed to run into my sister after she left? Betty told me the basics of what happened after, but I want the juicy details!" Hilda demanded, grinning.

"Mom, didn't you just tell me not to push?" Justin pointed out.

"Yeah, honey, but this is different – this stuff already happened. I'm just getting the facts," Hilda replied.

"I don't think we should bother Daniel. If he wants to tell us all the goods, he will. If not, it's really none of our business," Elena said.

"I agree. Why don't we let Daniel speak?" Ignacio suggested.

"It's okay." Daniels says. "You know, I haven't even told Betty this," he revealed. "I looked up where her new magazine building was located, and thought about just meeting her there. But then I felt like that was a little too obvious. I didn't want her to think I was there just for her, since I wasn't sure if she'd even speak to me, after the way we left things," he began.

"So I tried to figure out if there was a central place she had to go through every day in order to get to her office. I ended up finding Gio's number in the directory and asked him if he had any idea. He told me there was this café she mentioned she usually had lunch at, if she had the time, and that it was impossible to get to it from her building without passing through Trafalgar Square," he explained.

"So I camped out at around 11:00AM and waited - hoping she'd not be too busy for lunch or that I'd somehow miss her. I stayed until 2:00PM and was about ready to give up and try again the next day, when I saw her. So I stood in her path and acted like I just happened to bump into her. The rest is history," he finished.

"You're like the guy in that song – without the cardboard sign, I mean." Austin said.

"Oh, yeah . . . The Script's 'The Man Who Can't Be Moved'," Justin agreed.

Austin nodded.

"_You_ - are the sweetest man alive!" Hilda hugged Daniel as Bobby protested. "Except for my husband . . ." she saved herself, kissing Bobby on the cheek.

"Way to go, man! Our Chipmunk is a very lucky lady," he told Daniel, patting him on the back.

"Thank you," Daniel said. "Wait – 'Chipmunk'?" he asked, skeptically.

"Yeah, it's a little nickname I've always had for her. She had the cutest little chubby cheeks when she was a kid," he explained.

Daniel laughed.

"I'm never gonna let her live this one down," he joked.

They all started talking and laughing. Eventually, they left and started doing some sight-seeing. They were walking toward Buckingham Palace when Daniel's phone rang.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hey, you . . ." Betty replied.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Daniel teased.

Betty giggled.

"Shut up!" she playfully said.

"Where should I meet you guys?" she asked, walking toward the elevator.

"We were on our way to Buckingham Palace. But I just saw a frozen custard place. We could stop there for dessert and wait for you," he suggested.

"Sounds good," Betty agreed.

"Did you get the photographer thing worked out?" he asked.

"Yes and no," she sighed.

"Okay . . .?" he said, confused.

"Long story short, we still don't have a photographer for this issue. Good news is, we won't need one if you say 'Yes' to my brilliant idea," she coyly told him.

"Brilliant, huh?" he chuckled, intrigued.

"Yes – well, considering the crisis we're in . . ." she stepped out of the elevator and proceeded to enlighten him of her plan.

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Daniel just finished his cookie dough frozen custard, while the rest of the Suarezes were still working on theirs. Rosalina started crying and Hilda put down her spoon in order to tend to her.

"I can get her, if you want?" Daniel offered.

"Sure. Thanks!" she accepted. Daniel picked her up.

"Hey, Pretty Girl. Let's give Mommy and Daddy some time to finish eating their ice cream," he smiled, taking her on a short walk, showing her the trees, cars, and people.

"You're really good with her," Hilda came up to him.

"Thanks," he said.

"You'll make a great father someday," she told him.

"I hope so. I tried so hard with DJ, when I though he was mine. Even though I wasn't ready to jump into the father-thing out of nowhere, after I stepped up and accepted he was my son, I couldn't imagine not being a father. Guess I still wish he was mine, in a way," he admitted, making a face at Rosalina, who smiled and cooed.

"_Trust me_ - you'll be amazing when the time's right," Hilda assured him.

They both smiled.

"Okay, Princess. You want to go back to Mommy?" Daniel handed Rosalina to Hilda, as he saw Betty walking up to them. He grabbed her hand as they all went back to the table.

Betty looked at Daniel.

"You want to tell them?" she asked.

"Guess we should - before the new issue is out," Daniel agreed.

"K. Go ahead," she offered.

"Well, they're _your_ family . . ." he pointed out.

"Okay, if you have something to tell us – I don't care who says it – just spit it out already!" Hilda exclaimed.

"Yeah," Bobby chimed in.

The rest of them impatiently insisted.

"Okay, okay!" Betty gave in as Daniel squeezed her left hand.

"We're engaged!" she squealed.

"Oh my god!" Hilda shrieked as she ran over to Betty and they started jumping up and down like giddy school girls.

"Let me see that gorgeous rock!" Elena demanded.

"I _knew_ it!" Justin exclaimed.

"Way to go, Aunt B!" he told Betty.

The rest of Betty's family followed with congratulations, hugs, and questions. They spent the rest of the day sight-seeing and talking about the wedding.

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Betty and Daniel were in the bathroom, getting ready for bed when she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"I didn't want to ask you on the phone, but how did it go earlier with my family? You were kinda quiet on the way home. Did something happen?" she asked as she sat in her PJ bottoms and cami, taking off her makeup.

"No, it was fine . . . I was just thinking," Daniel answered as he unbuttoned and took off his dress shirt.

"See – aren't you glad you stuck with me, babe?" she winked.

He chuckled.

"Seriously. Are you okay?" Betty looked up at him through the mirror with her concerned, loving brown eyes.

"I'm fine," Daniel bent down and kissed the top of her head, then sat beside her. "It's just . . . as I was eating lunch with your family, I sat back and watched in amazement as they bickered with each other. And I thought, 'this is what I want' - to be a part of something so big. To have everyone who cares about you sitting around, laughing, talking, arguing over nothing but in the end still knowing they'd always love and be there for you no matter what," he admitted, half-smiling.

"Not that I don't love my own family, and I know they love me too. But there's always so much backstabbing, and viciousness. So many lies and secrets going on that it was hard to enjoy being together with all of them - most of the time. We were always disconnected and an unstable mess," he shook his head.

"Oh, Daniel . . ." Betty sympathetically caressed his cheek.

Daniel kissed her palm then held onto as he continued to speak.

"Mom and I repaired our relationship, since she's been sober, and I'm still working things out with Alexis, long distance. But, I feel like there was always something missing - something your family has had from the beginning. You're lucky to have had that in your life," he confessed.

"Yeah, I know," she smiled. "But you're lucky, too. And pretty soon, we'll _all_ be a family and have the best of both worlds," she reminded him.

"I can't wait!" Daniel said.

"Me neither!" Betty agreed as she quickly kissed his lips and dragged him into their bedroom.

"Oh, with all the craziness going on today, I almost forgot to tell you," she remembered as she took off her watch and laid it on the nightstand. "You'll never guess who I ran into today!" she continued, walking over to Daniel, who was on the other side of the room, checking his Iphone one last time.

"Who?" he asked.

"Matt," Betty answered.

"_Hartley_?" his head shot up. "_That_ punk? He better not have tried anything with you!" Daniel said, agitated.

"_Awww_ . . . Is someone jealous?" Betty teased, poking his stomach.

"What? _Betty!_ No. - _No!_ I can take that little weasel any day . . ." he defensively insisted as he paced back and forth.

Betty burst out laughing.

"This is really bugging you, isn't?" she said, amused. "I'm fine," he claimed.

"Relax, Daniel. I told him we're engaged," she calmed him down.

"So what's he doing here, anyway?" Daniel asked.

"He's actually interviewing for the Global Editor position, tomorrow," she answered.

"Don't hire him," Daniel insisted.

"Daniel! Haven't we been over this before? You can't mess with people's jobs just because you don't want them near me," she berated him.

"Besides . . ." Betty slowly untied the drawstring of his pants, letting them fall to the floor, leaving Daniel in nothing but his tight black boxer briefs. "_I'm_ . . ." she seductively stripped down to her lacey lingerie. "In charge now . . ." she slyly smiled and walked toward the bed.

"Oh, you are?" Daniel gave her a sexy smirk as he leisurely checked her out.

"Mmmhmm . . ." Betty turned her head back toward him.

"We'll just see about that . . ." Daniel came behind her, scooped her up in his arms, and threw her on the bed.

Betty squealed and giggled.

He slowly climbed on top of her.

"You're gonna pay for that, you know?" she playfully warned him.

"Promise?" he replied, with a wickedly sexy grin.

"Come here," she smiled and pulled him closer.

As their lips gradually parted, attaching to one another's in one of many fervent kisses, and their bodies intertwined, all else was forgotten.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks again for all the responses! Sorry for the delay - it's been a busy week, lol. Enjoy!_

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A couple of weeks had past. The Suarezes had gone back to New York. Betty had hired Matt, despite Daniel's protests, however he conceded considering Matt would be constantly traveling and only around for occasional meetings, etc. All in all, things seemed to be going very smoothly.

Daniel smiled as he gazed up at the framed blow-up of B.A.M.'s October issue. He'd never get tired of looking at it.

"Daniel?" his tall, lanky blond, early-twenties assistant, Ethan snapped him out of his trance.

"Hmm? What?" Daniel shook his head and swiveled in his leather wing back office chair.

"Your meeting for next issue's layout's been pushed up," he told him.

"How long do I have?" Daniel asked.

"Twenty minutes. Here's your bagel – extra hazelnut," Ethan answered, handing him the bagel.

"K. I'll be there as soon as I eat this and check my email," Daniel said.

Ethan nodded and went back to his desk.

Daniel skimmed through his mail.

"Spam . . . spam . . . spam . . ." he muttered while discarding it. "This one's from Betty – must be her ideas for this issue's concept," he assumed and clicked to open it.

His face dropped and his eyes fixated on the words in the message.

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Matt, finishing an assignment of the progress of the disaster relief in Haiti, received a text:

"Waiting for the fallout," he quickly texted back.

"Good. Let her know of our progress. If it doesn't happen, least it planted doubt," he pressed 'send' and slid his phone shut.

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Daniel quietly walked into Betty's office through the adjoining side door.

"Hey, baby. Ready for the meeting?" she innocently asked.

"Care to explain this?" he calmly responded before shoving the paper in front of her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You tell me," he waited for her reply.

"I'll meet you at the hotel at 7:00PM tonight. Don't worry - Daniel won't suspect a thing. ~ Betty" Betty curiously read the email, confused. "Daniel, I don't know what the hell this is, but I didn't write it," Betty insisted.

"It has your email address and your signature on it. You can't deny it! So who's the guy?" Daniel demanded.

"What? _Daniel!_ There is no guy! I didn't write this!" she adamantly responded.

"If _you_ didn't, who did, Betty? Did flying monkeys sneak in and wreak havoc on your keyboard?" he sarcastically snapped.

His tone made her flinch.

"No! I don't know, Daniel! The only thing I _do_ know is that I love _you_ and _only_ you. I don't understand how you could accuse me of something like this? You _know_ me. I didn't send that email. Please tell me you believe me!" she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes.

Daniel took one look at her and melted. He could never stand to see her cry, and could tell she wasn't lying. She was always a horrible liar.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he pulled her into him with a soothing and apologetic embrace.

Betty's arms were still limp, unsure of whether she wanted to forgive him yet. He noticed the tension and pulled back.

"I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. I just saw it and reacted," he admitted.

"No, you shouldn't have," she callously agreed, wiping her watery eyes.

"It's probably some idiot hacker. I'll have Ethan call the tech guy to look into it," Daniel suggested.

Betty silently nodded.

"Again, I don't know what else to say, except I really am sorry," he kissed her forehead.

She pulled away.

"I'm going to go fix my makeup before I'm late for the meeting," Betty coldly walked off, leaving Daniel standing alone.

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Betty was still reeling from what happened earlier. She'd never been so flustered at a meeting since she first started at MODE. It was a good thing Lindsay was out of town, she thought as she opened the door to her office. But after one look inside, she dropped the papers in her hands in shock. Daniel sauntered in from his office.

"So, I heard this girl's fiancé is a big jackass," he casually remarked, forcing Betty to come out of her stupor.

"He's not so bad," Betty smiled. "Besides, I hear his fiancée's pretty great, so I wouldn't blame him for not wanting to lose her," she teased.

He chuckled.

"Too much?" he asked in reference to the Gerber daisy and rose-filled office.

"A little. You always did go overboard, but I'm not complaining," she grinned.

"Well, I could always send them back . . ." he suggested with a twinkle in his baby blues, starting to pick one of the vases up.

"Don't you _dare!_" she playfully warned, as she slowly walked over and hugged him.

"So are we good?" Daniel uncertainly asked.

"We're good," Betty answered, sweetly kissing him.

Daniel headed back to his office, trying to sneak one of the vases out as Betty started to focus on her work again.

"Leave it," she said without even looking up.

Daniel put it down and gave her a boyish grin.

Betty smiled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Some things never changed . . .

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"Betty - I can't believe you're making me do this! _Ow!_" a blindfolded Daniel protested, as he bumped into a wall.

"Well, if you'd let me lead you, instead of insisting you can 'find your own way', you wouldn't hurt yourself, you big dummy!" Betty teased as she grabbed his arm.

"Hey, it's my birthday – be nice! Where are you taking me, anyway?" he asked for the umpteenth time since they got in the town car.

"You'll see . . ." she answered as she opened the door. "Wait here – I'll be back in a few minutes," Betty rushed off. "Okay, you can look now!" she said, as eager and nervous with anticipation as he was – if not more.

Daniel peeled off his blindfold to find himself in a dark, musty, bare, candle-lit room with nothing but a picnic blanket and Chinese takeout.

"What's this?" Daniel asked, surprised and confused. "Where are we?" He looked around and could tell there were no walls and no floors, just floorboards.

"Well, you know that building we pass by on our way to work every day in Holland Park, near Chelsea and Kensington? The white older one, with the pillars and intricate molding, you say the architecture reminds you of your grandparents' building in Manhattan?" Betty asked.

"Yeah, Alex and I loved spending a couple of summer weeks there every year. We could get away from Mom and Dad fighting, and Grandma and Grandpa always spoiled us. We had some really good memories there," he fondly recalled.

"Well, I thought we could make new memories here," she smiled.

"What? You – you bought a flat?" he asked.

"No . . . I bought the whole building," Betty grinned.

"How – how did you manage to do it?" Daniel asked, flabbergasted.

"Well, since it's 150 years old and needs to be completely renovated, it was at an enormously reduced price. I noticed it was up for auction, so I made a bid and won!" she proudly smiled.

"That's great, Betty! But –" Daniel got interrupted.

"I know, I know, it's hideous – but I think we could make it into something really beautiful. It'll be a lot of work and we really don't have the time, but I figured with the magazine sales booming, we could afford to have a contractor redo it for us – even if it's only one floor at a time. We could paint and decorate it ourselves on the weekends or something. And we can't live in my tiny one bedroom, one bath flat forever, sooo . . ." she excitedly gushed.

There was silence as Daniel took it all in.

"You're not mad are you? I mean I know I probably should've talked about it with you first. But we had already agreed we needed a bigger place and I knew you loved the exterior. I just wanted to surprise _you_ for once. It was impulsive and stupid. I'm sorry . . ." Betty trailed off, afraid she made a big mistake.

Daniel enjoyed watching her squirm for a while, before he couldn't control his laughter any longer.

"What? Daniel, are you laughing at me?" she finally noticed.

"I can't help it – you're adorable when you're freaking out," he teased.

Betty playfully shoved him.

"No. Seriously, Betty, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for. This is amazing! _You_ are amazing! I can't believe you did this. This is the best present ever!" Daniel spun Betty around and kissed her hard and fast.

"Mmm – there's more . . ." she said, taking his hand and leading him over to the blanket. "As another taste of New York, I got us Chinese," she smiled.

"I sense this is a theme?" he replied.

"Yep," she said.

"So tell me more about this place," he insisted, while hungrily digging in.

"Okay, it has four levels and 4,000 square feet - which should give us around 5 bedrooms, 4.5 baths, a huge kitchen, dining room, great room, loft, and office," Betty figured.

"What are we going to do with all this space?" he laughed. "Ooh! We could have a game room – with a pool table, video games, and a bar!" he planned out loud.

"Exactly! We could have great parties, and have plenty of room for our families when they visit," Betty agreed.

"Maybe even start one of our own?" Daniel quietly mentioned.

"Definitely," Betty promised, taking his hand.

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After they ate, Betty took Daniel on the grand tour.

"We'd better find an extremely good contractor to flip this place!" Daniel laughed. "But it's a good investment that I think will really pay off. This neighborhood is great with the shops, cafés, and park nearby. Who would've thought - my fiancée - the real estate genius?" he marveled.

"Well, I try . . ." Betty joked as they walked down the stairs to the first level. "And that reminds me – I have one more surprise. This is from Alexis." She handed him an envelope as they sat on the blanket.

He opened the card to find a ticket to New York and a ticket for the Harvard vs. Yale football game. Daniel was speechless.

"She remembered . . ." Daniel softly said.

She nodded.

"I had a chat with her and we thought that you guys and DJ could all go back to New York for a family weekend. She and DJ are flying out tomorrow and you'll meet them and your mom for brunch and spend the afternoon at your favorite spa – I know you miss your massages and manicures there," Betty gave Daniel a half-amused, half-sympathetic look. "Then you and Alexis will take DJ to the game on Saturday afternoon," she continued.

"So what are you going to be doing while I'm off having fun?" he asked.

"Well, I need to make an appearance for the mag at that gala tomorrow night," Betty said.

"I hate the thought of you having to go alone. And even more that I won't get to dance with you in that sexy new dress you bought," he smiled, with a steamy look.

"Don't worry – Amanda, Christina, and I decided to make it a girl's night out. And if you're good, maybe I'll try it on for you later . . ." she seductively kissed his lips.

"Deal," he slyly grinned.

"So what about the rest of the time?" he inquired.

"Well, Saturday morning I was planning on flying out to meet you. We need to go over some final decisions for the wedding while we're there – Christina's already making my dress, and the Plaza and church are already booked, but you've got to get fitted for your tux, we need to decide on the cake and catering, and I need Hilda and Justin's help with the flowers and stuff like that," she ran through the list in her head.

"Oh, and I thought at some point we could have dinner with both of our families together before we left Tuesday night?" she suggested.

"Sounds perfect," he answered.

"Good," Betty smiled and started to clean up the takeout cartons as Daniel grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to him.

"Thank you – for everything. No one's ever done anything like this for me before. I'm so lucky to have you," he confessed.

"You're welcome. I just want you to be happy. You sacrificed everything for me, moving here, and I don't ever want you to regret it. I'm lucky to have you, too." Betty admitted, rubbing her hand along his jaw line. "Happy birthday!" she smiled.

Daniel drew her in for a tender kiss as they fell back on the blanket, amongst the once neatly piled cartons.

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_Just a note that the apartment building in London, referred to in this chapter, actually does exist. I based it off of one I saw while watching an episode of HGTV's "House Hunters International - London", and just tweaked a few things to fit the storyline._


	7. Chapter 7

_Thank you again for all of your wonderful responses - I really appreciate them!_

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Daniel carefully stood up to exit the plane, holding his aching back and trying not slam his head on the ceiling in the process. He made a note to himself never to make love on particle board flooring again.

Betty tried to tell him they should go back to their flat, but as usual he had to be stubborn and spontaneous - insisting they 'christen' their future home.

Hopefully a massage at the spa would help, he thought as he walked through LaGuardia and saw his mother, sister, and nephew waiting for him at the baggage claim.

"Daniel, darling! How are you?" Claire greeted him with a hug too tight for him to stand in his current condition.

"I'm fine, Mom," he winced in pain and pulled away.

"Are you all right, dear?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm good. My back is just a little sore – I think I slept on it wrong," he answered.

"He's fine, Mom – aren't ya Danny Boy?" Alexis dismissed Claire's concern as she smacked Daniel on the back.

"Aaah!" Daniel gave Alexis a 'What the hell?' look.

"Oh, don't be such a baby!" she jested, completely unsympathetic.

A taller, older boy, with much shorter, slightly spiked hair, reached out his hand to Daniel.

Daniel extended his own and they pulled each other into the stereotypical 'guy' embrace. He couldn't believe it, but DJ was almost the spitting image of Alex when he was fifteen.

"What's up, buddy? Ca va? . . . Comment est . . . le football?" Daniel tried to remember what little French he knew.

"It is awesome! I cannot wait for next season!" DJ answered.

"Wow! Your English is really getting good." Daniel said, surprised.

"He's been taking classes in school – straight A's!" Alexis bragged.

"That's great!" Daniel replied.

"Alright, children, let's finish chit-chatting over brunch. If I don't get a Mimosa in me soon, I think I'll keel over," Claire interrupted.

"Mother!" "Mom!" Alexis and Daniel simultaneously exclaimed.

"Kidding! I'm just kidding. Relax - you two are so uptight. I _am_ famished, though. Let's go," Claire insisted.

Alexis and Daniel gave each other a relieved look, then gathered their bags.

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At the restaurant, while Alexis and DJ had excused themselves from the table, Claire couldn't resist fishing for the details of her son's personal life.

"So, Daniel, how is Betty?" she asked.

"She's good, Mom," Daniel answered.

"Good. I'm so glad you two called me with the fabulous news! And I must say, I'm proud of you for getting it right this time," she smiled.

"Thank you – I think," Daniel said, a little annoyed.

"I noticed the connection between you two, years ago. It's a good thing you finally realized it, before it was too late," she admitted.

"You knew?" Daniel was surprised.

"Of course, sweetheart. A mother can sense these things. Besides you were a little obvious, considering the fact that you were constantly bringing Betty up in our conversations in some way, shape, or form. There was nothing you didn't do for that girl. She was always more than just your assistant - no matter how much you denied it. I knew it was only a matter of time before you came to your senses," Claire frankly pointed out.

Daniel looked down in embarrassment.

Alexis and DJ returned, overhearing the tail-end of their conversation.

"You know, Danny Boy, I still haven't wrapped my head around you dating your assistant – well that_ specific_ assistant, anyway. She was always a sweet girl and I like her, but she was never in the same vicinity as being your type," Alexis smirked.

"She's not my assistant anymore. And just what exactly are you insinuating my 'type' is?" Daniel asked, defensively.

"You know, tall, super-thin chics who usually can't even remember their own names – much less, spell them." Alexis answered.

"Yeah, well you know don't me that well anymore, do you?" Daniel stated.

"Oh, and least I forget – beautiful. God knows Betty was _never_ –" Alexis continued to dig when Daniel interjected.

"That is _not_ true! Betty has always been beautiful. All those models I dated could never hold a candle to her – inside _or_ out. I just wish I had had the guts to fully admit it to myself sooner. I wouldn't have wasted so much time without her," he regretfully admitted.

"You really have changed, haven't you?" Alexis realized.

"Yeah, I guess so. And I have Betty to thank for it," Daniel smiled.

"I'm sorry, Bro. I'll lay off," she apologized. Daniel nodded and half smiled in forgiveness. "If frizzy-haired and metal-mouthed turns you on, then more power to ya!" Alexis couldn't resist.

Daniel lunged toward her.

Claire and DJ separated them before they killed each other.

"Honestly, I don't know why you two could never get along. A fifteen year-old acts more mature!" Claire scolded.

"I'm going to wait outside," Daniel said to Claire and left.

"DJ, dear, would you mind getting our coats?" Claire asked.

DJ got up from the table.

"Why must you torment your brother? He's finally found happiness with a wonderful woman, and you can't let him enjoy it," she berated her daughter.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just can't picture him with Betty without laughing. You know how shallow Danny's always been when it comes to women," Alexis replied.

"Yes, well your brother's matured immensely in the past few years. Betty has been a big part of it. And I believe Daniel has had a considerable impact on her, as well. Not to mention, you of all people should know what it's like to be judged," Claire lectures Alexis.

Alexis bowed her head in reluctant agreement.

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Daniel walked out of the restaurant and checked his phone. He smiled when he opened a text message to find a picture of Betty in her dress for the gala and the words "miss u" below it. It was just what he needed to forget about Alexis' crap. He texted her back: "remember that whn guys r all ovr u 2nte – love u" and put his phone away just as his family came out.

"Ready to go to the spa? I think it'll do all of us good to relieve some tension," Claire asked.

"Sure," Daniel said, and began to follow her and DJ. Alexis stopped him by touching his arm.

"Daniel, wait. Look, I'm really sorry about how I've been acting. It seems like you really have changed. And if you're happy with Betty, then I'm happy for you. Just do me a favor and treat her right – she deserves more than to be your flavor-of-the-month," she apologized.

"I know. Trust me – Betty's 'The One'. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else," Daniel promised as they walked along.

"Look at you – all grown-up," she smiled in amazement. "I'll have to admit I'm a little jealous that my baby brother's getting married a second time and I haven't even found _one_ right person to be with," she confessed.

"You'll find someone – probably when you're least expecting to," Daniel assured her. "Just look at me and Betty – four years of constantly working beside each other and being best friends. I sort of admitted it to myself - listening to a speech at her sister's wedding. But I was afraid to tell her. I thought I had all the time in the world to see where things would go. It never fully hit me until I found out she was moving to another country. I guess we take things for granted sometimes," he admitted.

"I guess so." Alexis agreed.

"Speaking of which, would you be my best man – er - woman?" Daniel asked, trying to make amends as best as he knew how.

"I'd be honored," Alexis smiled, linking her arm with her brother's as they tried to catch up with their family.

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Back in London, Betty was dancing and laughing the night away with her friends.

"You guys, I think I'm going to have to sit this one out," Betty said, holding her hand on her back.

"Is someone a wee bit tired from celebrating last night?" Christina teased.

"Maybe . . ." Betty admitted.

"Ohhh . . . yeah, I totally get it. Daniel and I used to do it in all kinds of places. This one time – " Amanda, as usual, began to share too much.

"Amanda – please spare me the details," Betty interrupted. "I think I need a drink . . ." she told an understanding Christina and walked over to the open bar, whose proceeds went to charity. "One Cosmo, one Sex on the Beach, and one Scotch on the Rocks." Betty ordered.

"Coming right up . . ." the bartender said, telling the other one the order.

Betty handed Amanda and Christina their drinks and took a sip of her Cosmo.

"So how are the wedding preparations coming along?" Christina asked.

"Well, I think they're going well. Daniel and I are going to make some more decisions once I meet him in New York this weekend," Betty answered, taking another drink.

"We can design our own dresses – right? I know your fashion choices almost look normal now, but I wanna look totally chique! I _am_ Amanda Tanen Sommers, after all." Betty took her backwards compliment with a grain of salt.

"Like I said, as long as they're the same color, length, and material, you can pick whatever style you want – but I get final approval," Betty reminded her.

"We don't want to upstage the bride!" Christina pointed out.

"Why not? No, seriously?" Amanda replied.

"Oooohhhh . . . I still can't believe you and Daniel are getting married!" Christina hugged Betty.

"Yeah, I thought _you'd_ end up being the old maid – not _me_," Amanda pouted as she joined in on the hug.

"Oh, Amanda. You'll find someone," Betty assured her.

"Whatever happened with you and Claire's son, with that Hartley fellow? I know you two took a break for a while, but I thought with Daniel out of the picture that you kids would get back together?" Christina asked.

"Tyler? Yeah, I thought so too, but he just kinda disappeared. I'm not even sure Claire knows exactly where he went. All he told her was he had to get away from the chaos of the Meade family and go 'find himself' or something. And then I decided to come here, so . . . Hey, what's Betty doing?" Amanda and Christina looked over to see Betty trying to climb up on the bar. They ran over to try and stop her.

"Whooooo! Lest get this party tarsted!" Betty screamed, slurring her words.

Everyone started staring and cameras flashed.

"Oookkay . . . looks like Chiquita Banana had one too many Margaritas." Amanda said as she and Christina pulled her down, before she made even more of a spectacle out of herself.

"She's a tad bit sloshed . . ." Christina agreed.

"She's not sloshed - whatever that means – she's hammered!" Amanda corrected her.

"I'm calling her a car," she replied as they both tried to hold onto a wobbly Betty.

"Come on guys, lests dance!" she tried to escape their grasp.

They pulled her over to a chair while they waited.

"I need call to Daniel," Betty fished for her cell. "Think he has my phone. Daniel . . .!" Betty started loudly talking into the upside down phone without even dialing.

Amanda rolled her eyes and grabbed it from her, sticking it back in her purse.

"What was _in_ that drink?" she rhetorically asked Christina.

Finally, the car arrived.

"Do you think we should go with her?" Christina asked after they got her in the car.

"Nah, she'll be fine," Amanda ensured. "I've been _waaay_ worse than that and didn't have curbside service to my apartment," she maintained.

Christina reluctantly agreed and told Betty she'll call her in the morning. She and Amanda then ran damage control with the photographers and press.

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Betty staggered out of the town car and up the steps of her building. As she fumbled with the doorknob, a man called out her name, from behind.

"Betty?" he said.

"Daniel? You're in New York? Oh, cares who – you're here now!" she grabbed his shirt and kissed him passionately, running her hands all over him.

She eventually shoved him in the building and to the door of the flat, all the while not coming up for air. She only broke from him long enough to search for her key, already in her hand.

"Where is it?" she whined.

"I found it," he took it out of her hand and held it up, before unlocking the door.

"Oh. You're _sooo_ smart!" she squealed and pushed him in the door and into the bedroom.

She ripped off his shirt, zealously captured his lips, then struggled with her dress.

"Someone's gonna get lucky . . ." Betty giggled before passing out on the bed.

"Yes. Someone definitely is . . ." the man agreed, while picking up his shirt and walking out the door.

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Matt received another text: "Game. Set. Match."

He texted back: "gr8 - got proof - can't w8 4 Wednesday . . ." and grinned.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting! Hopefully you'll like this chapter, but I've got my hard hat on just in case anybody decides to throw cyber burritos or glasses, lol. Enjoy!_

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Betty and Daniel walked through Heathrow, after a tiring trip back from New York. Betty didn't seem to let it phase her excitement, though.

"I'll never get over the look on your sister's face when she saw me!" she laughed.

"Yeah, I should've taken a picture, 'cause it was priceless." Daniel agreed.

"And I'm still in shock over your mother hiring us a wedding coordinator to handle the ceremony and reception details!" she marveled.

"Well, he's a friend of the family's and has helped us with a ton of social events," Daniel nonchalantly replied.

"Daniel – he handles _celebrity_ weddings – and now he's planning _ours_. This is _amazing_!" Betty insisted.

"Baby, we _are_ celebrities." Daniel reminded her.

"I guess I never really think of it that way. I mean, we both get press and everything because of B.A.M. and your family ties, but it's not like we're followed all over the place and ducking the paparazzi at every corner. We're just us," she humbly said.

She spoke too soon, as they were both bombarded by a crowd of reporters, photographers, and news crews.

"Ms. Suarez, is it true that you slept with your fiancé's brother after the gala?" one reporter asked.

"What? No!" Betty was overwhelmed and completely confused.

"Mr. Meade, how do you feel about your fiancée's betrayal? You're not still with her, are you?" another inquired.

"Huh? I don't know what you're talking about. Betty and I are fine . . ." Daniel replied in bewilderment.

"So am I to understand that she hasn't informed you of her indiscretion?" the media rep assumed.

"Betty, are you getting back at Daniel for never noticing you until after your makeover?" another one fished for information.

"Of course not! I would never do anything to hurt Daniel!" Betty adamantly insisted and pushed past her to find Daniel in the crowd.

They finally managed to break free of the mass of media and get into the town car.

"What the hell was all that?" Daniel asked, relieved to be away from the chaos.

"I have absolutely no idea!" Betty assured him.

"What went on at the gala, anyway?" he calmly questioned, resisting the urge to get upset, after jumping to conclusions before.

"Nothing. Christina, Amanda, and I went there, danced, talked, had drinks – can't remember anything unusual – except waking up naked, with the biggest hangover," she recalled, puzzled.

"So . . . no one took you home?" Daniel carefully asked.

"I . . . I honestly don't know. I don't remember anything after I finished my drink, except waking up the next morning," Betty admitted.

Daniel started to tense up.

"But Christina called to check on me and she said she and Amanda sent a town car to drop me off. You can call her if you want," she offered.

"No, it's okay. I believe you," Daniel rubbed her hand. "I just don't understand how the press had any way of spinning this. I mean, you were drunk, you went home in the town car, you crashed. And what I really don't get is how my brother was brought into it. The only brother I have is Alexis, and she was in New York with me. If they meant Tyler, he's been gone for a while now. Mom hasn't even heard from him," Daniel analyzed the facts. "You don't have any enemies I don't know about, right?" he wondered.

"Other than Kimmie, who's probably still pissed she got fired from MODE, and Gina Gambaro who's more Hilda's now than mine - since the fake Gucci thing - I can't think of anybody," Betty answered.

"And you're on good terms with your exes - at least from what you've told me," he looked at her hesitantly and she nodded in reassurance. "I still wish you hadn't hired Matt – even if he isn't around a lot," he complained.

"Matt hasn't been a problem, and you know it. He's still a nice guy. I know you have this thing against him, just like with Henry, and I know I was serious about him at one point. But trust me. I have no romantic feelings for either of them anymore," Betty assured Daniel, sliding closer to him and taking his hand.

"I love _you_. You're everything to me, and I have no idea what I'd do if I lost you. Why do you think I kept choosing you over everyone else in my life all those times? Subconsciously, I already knew who was most important to me. So you have to believe me when I say that I would never risk losing what we have," she promised.

Daniel squeezed her hand.

"I do," he softly kissed her lips and she rested her head on his shoulder.

He instinctively laid his head on hers, both of them trying to take in all that just happened, hoping they could get through whatever was going on.

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When they pulled up to the Dunne Publications building, more reporters were crowded around the entrance.

"Come on – let's go around back," Daniel took Betty's hand as they snuck behind the building before anyone noticed them. Once on their floor, they tried to focus on work.

"I'm going to go check on the proofs for the next issue," Betty told Daniel.

"And I'll go see how the Junior Editors are coming along with their pieces," he replied, pecking her cheek before leaving.

While walking to the photo lab, Betty bumped into Amanda.

"How could you, Betty? Isn't one brother enough for you? First Matt, then Daniel, and now _Tyler_!" she cried.

"Amanda, I didn't – " Betty tried to explain.

"Save it, Slut!" she brushed past her.

Betty sighed and picked up her phone.

"Charlotte - yeah, I know. Could you please get my notebook and bring it down to the lab? Thanks!" she requested.

A few minutes later, Charlotte arrived with the notebook.

"I thought you might want to see this . . ." she said, handing Betty a tabloid with pictures of her groping and kissing Tyler outside her apartment building, and one of their shadows kissing in her bedroom. The headline read: "Brotherly Lust – Mag Mama Swaps One Meade Brother for Another!"

"Oh my god! That's me and I'm – I'm – Oh my god! That can't be me – I would _never_ do that! And how the hell did Tyler even get there?" Betty started flipping out big time. "I've gotta show this to Daniel before he gets it from someone else!" she turned to rush off and ran into Daniel.

"Too late," he held up the tabloid, appearing as if he would explode at any minute.

"Put the proofs on my desk and hold all my calls. I'll be in Daniel's office if anything major happens," she requested before grabbing Daniel's arm and rushing him into his office, closing the door. She sat down on the dark leather chaise while Daniel leaned against his desk.

"You know, Betty, I tried. I really did," he cynically smiled. "I told myself not react on impulse. Not to make any accusations. That I screwed-up before. I needed to trust you - because you've never given me a reason not to. But you're making it really difficult," he slammed the paper down and paced around the room, running his hand through his hair.

"I know. I know it looks really bad – " Betty started.

"Betty – 'bad' doesn't even begin to describe this! There are pictures of you with my estranged brother – did you know he was in town?" Daniel interrupted.

"No! I never saw him Daniel – I swear! Look, I know it has to be hard for you to still believe in me after seeing these. But someone's setting me up – I would never do this!" she promised.

Daniel let out a loud, hesitant sigh, and sat down next to her.

"So that brings us back to who would?" he contemplated.

"Maybe not 'Who?', right now, but 'How?'. These pictures have to have been manipulated," Betty insisted.

"You're probably right. It's not like we haven't kissed in front of our building before. A simple cut and paste of Tyler's head over mine would be all it'd take. The shadows wouldn't take any work at all. But we need proof," Daniel figured.

"I agree, but where are we going to get it from?" Betty wondered.

Daniel pondered it for a minute and then remembered.

"The security camera," he said.

"Daniel – that's brilliant! All we have to do is ask to see the tape from that night," Betty exclaimed.

"Let's go!" Daniel got up and headed toward the door. Betty followed.

"The sooner we have it, the sooner we can get back to work and to our normal lives," Betty said, hopefully.

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It was a very long and awkward car ride to their flat. Neither one of them spoke, afraid of saying anything more until the truth was revealed.

Betty nervously twirled the ring on her finger and Daniel impatiently tapped his fingers to a beat in his head. She usually found his little habits endearing, but at that moment she just wanted to scream. She gave him a look.

"Oh. Sorry," he said, clearing his throat.

Finally, they arrived at their building and convinced the security guy to give them a copy of Friday night's tape. They rushed in their flat and popped it in.

"See, there I am – getting out of the car and walking to the door – alone." Betty pointed to the screen, relieved.

"Who's that guy?" Daniel asked as he saw Betty turn around.

"Oh my god," she quietly said as her face turned sheet white and she developed a nauseating feeling.

It finally triggered her fuzzy memory. She had thought it was just a weird dream, but it was turning into a nightmare. She tried to pause the tape before it went any further, but it was too late.

"Daniel . . ." she struggled to make the words form on her lips.

"Don't!" Daniel snapped, causing Betty to flinch.

"I thought it was you! I – I honestly couldn't remember what happened that night. I had this strange dream that you had come back home. Only I found out just now that it wasn't a dream – and it wasn't you," she attempted to explain – still confused, herself.

"You lied to me, Betty," he coldly stated.

"No," Betty softly insisted.

"You looked me straight in the eyes, and you lied to me," he repeated, the anger rising in his voice.

"No!" she cried.

"I can't believe I trusted you! But I looked at your face – how innocent and desperate you were - and I thought 'I have to believe her. She would never do this to me.' I loved you so much, I didn't want to see truth . . . I guess you've gotten pretty good at it though, haven't you? The lying - I mean. You strung me along for how long? Was the email meant for him, too? Were you planning on screwing him in some dirty hotel?" Daniel accused her.

"No!" she desperately insisted, his accusations, like needles, stabbing at her heart.

"_My_ brother – the brother I despise? Damn it, Betty – _how could you?_" he said, devastated.

"I didn't! I don't even know him!" she sobbed.

"And then you conveniently planned this trip, so you could finally get him alone in our apartment – in _our bed_ for Christ's sake!" he yelled in disgust.

"Daniel, that is NOT true! I only saw you – I swear! I had no idea Tyler or anyone else was there. The only time I've ever talked to him was in passing at MODE. When you got so upset with me then for giving him the time of day, I didn't speak to him again. Even though I felt it was childish, I respected your wishes because I loved you and our friendship more than anything else. I was just as clueless as you were that he was in London," Betty confessed, in between sobs.

"How do you explain this then, Betty? Tapes don't lie. And nobody gets so drunk from _one_ drink that they don't recognize the person in front of them," Daniel still refused to listen.

"I don't know," Betty sighed.

They were both silent for a while.

"Deep down, I – I guess I always knew I loved you a little more than you loved me," his voice cracked as he fought back the tears in his eyes. "After all, you made the decision to come here without even saying a word to me about it first – and yet I threw away everything in my life for just a chance – a _chance_ - to be with you. But I was okay with that. I figured I had enough love for the both of us. Now I'm not so sure," he confessed, his vulnerability exposed.

"Baby, where did you get that idea?" Betty wiped her tears, and moved over to where Daniel had finally sat down. "I told you why I didn't tell you – I was putting off saying 'Goodbye' because it hurt too much. And after that night, when we kissed for the first time, it made it even worse. All those times I had dreamt about that moment, and then to have it happen right when it did – I didn't know what to do," she revealed.

"I never left because of you – I left because I got the job offer of my dreams. I thought you didn't care – that you hated me. But leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. You were my partner, my best friend, and I thought we were becoming even more. Giving that up . . ." she admitted, a tear running down her face, as she trailed off.

"Then why didn't you tell me about the offer the minute you got it? We told each other _everything_ - we definitely talked about things like that before." Daniel calmly asked.

"Because I knew if I discussed it with you - you wouldn't mean to - but you'd talk me out of it. You'd tell me that you'd support any decision I made, but then you'd give me that look and tell me that you 'wouldn't know what you'd do without me'. And I knew that even though it would only be a business and platonic admission, I'd melt and cave. And I realized at the wedding that it was time for me to stop worrying about everyone else, and do something for myself for once," Betty confessed.

"Is that why you wandered off on me?" Daniel asked. She nodded and he began to reflect on his own feelings. "It's funny. I didn't know how to explain why I was doing the things I did – the animosity I felt towards Henry, why I was so offended that you uninvited me as your date, why I actually got bored with Trista, why I couldn't take my eyes off of you during the ceremony," he chuckled at himself.

"But listening to Hilda's speech – it all made sense - I was in love with you. And that night, I finally thought everything was perfect – you were in my arms and it felt right. I didn't know what was going to happen next. But I knew for those few hours, I was holding you, and nothing else mattered. Little did I know that _there_ was really the last place you wanted to be," he smiled, wistfully.

"That's not true, Daniel. Why do you think I asked you to be my date in the first place? I could've asked anyone, but I chose you. And I specifically said 'date' when you wanted clarification, as I recall," she mused.

"Yeah, I guess I just couldn't get over you asking me out - and how laid back you were about it," he shook his head.

"You wouldn't believe how nervous I was on the inside - I was afraid you'd laugh in my face," she admitted. "You know I would never do that," Daniel assured her.

They caught each other's eyes and gradually allowed their lips to touch. The kiss began to deepen until Daniel suddenly broke away, resting his forehead against Betty's.

"I can't do this," he said, regretfully.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"_This_," he stood up. "I can't just take a walk down Memory Lane and get all nostalgic. I can't forget what's happening right now. No matter how much you might have loved me in the past, something made you lie to me - _cheat_ on me. _God!_" Daniel stormed toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Betty got up to follow him, completely thrown by his change in mood.

"I don't know. But I can't stay here and be sucked in again. Say 'Hello' to my bastard brother for me," his replied, his tone hollow and bitter as he slammed the door.

Betty clung to it, sliding down to the floor and began to sob uncontrollably, finding it hard to breathe.

Daniel leaned against the other side. Unable to maintain his composure any longer, he allowed the tears to flow. When he heard Betty crying, he put his hand on the door knob, but resisted the urge to comfort her. He dried his eyes and walked out of the building, unsure of anything, anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

_So sorry for not posting more, sooner. It's been an extremely busy week. Thank you so much for reading and responding! I promise I'll have another lengthy chapter very soon!_

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Daniel rubbed his eyes. He hadn't fully slept in three days. He tried, but without the warmth of her body next to his . . . the way she fit perfectly in his arms . . . the smell of her hair . . . her skin . . . the sound of her breathing . . . he found it nearly impossible. He had managed to drift off for about a half an hour, just then, but that was it before he woke up to reality again.

He pulled the hotel comforter over himself and searched for the remote. Some cheesy romantic movie – the kind Betty loved – was on and he just couldn't take it. He needed an action flick with guns and fighting and people ripping each other's heads off. It was exactly what he wanted to do to Tyler right then.

The rest of the work week had been grueling. He had gone over to get some of his clothes, after he knew Betty had already left for the office. They'd spoken as little as possible, trying to avoid making a scene in public - that and he honestly was at a loss for words anymore.

He still loved her, but obviously that didn't matter. He couldn't trust her – the one person he had always counted on – and it was tearing him up inside. She was the only one who could get him through crap like this; calm him down, let him vent, make him see reason. But now _she_ was the one causing his pain and he had no one to turn to.

He decided to hit the gym, figuring maybe a few rounds with a punching bag would help, as he pulled on a white wife-beater and black running pants with white stripes on the sides. He flipped the hood up on his black sweatshirt and grabbed his sunglasses to avoid being recognized by any paparazzi.

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Drenched with sweat from his workout, Daniel grabbed a towel and headed toward the showers. He felt a little better after he had imagined punching his brother's lights out. Lost in thought, he didn't look where he was going and ran into someone.

"Oh. I'm sorry, man," he apologized, until he recognized the face. "On second thought – I'm not. You little punk-ass bastard! Where the hell do you think you get off?" Daniel shoved Tyler.

"Great, actually – that Betty's one fine piece of Latin ass –" he obnoxiously remarked.

Daniel clutched Tyler's shirt and threw him on the ground.

"You son of a b –" Daniel started, until Tyler interjected.

"Careful, Dan. That's _our_ mother you're talking about," he smirked and stood back up.

Daniel punched him in the face.

"Don't you _ever_ talk about Betty that way – stay away from her!" Daniel warned.

Tyler hit him back.

"I think that's for Betty to decide," he smugly replied.

Daniel lunged forward and decked Tyler again. Tyler shoved Daniel to the ground. Daniel kicked him in the crotch, causing him to fall down with him. They continued to roll around on the floor, with everyone watching.

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"This is Suzuki St. Pierre with Fashion TV. Latest dish? Former playboy and Chief of MODE magazine, Daniel Meade, has been duped in his own game – and not just by any random cover babe," Daniel's photo was shown.

"Betty Suarez, Daniel's _uber_ ugly former assistant and now _his_ boss as Chief of B.A.M. magazine in London, allegedly cheated on her fiancé with none other than his estranged half-brother by Mommy Meade and business mogul Cal Hartley," Claire's photo was shown. Then Cal's photo slid in beside it. The photos were merged and Tyler's appeared.

"Normally we wouldn't be crushed by this info, and would consider Daniel to be the lucky one. But this . . . is now _this_," Betty's Guadalajara poncho picture was shown and then a newer photo, from the article in B.A.M., appeared beside it.

"Yes, people, I did a double-take too. Looks like Ms. Suarez's new-found beauty has gone to her gorgeous little head and the Prince of Publishing is last season's Prada. _Ouch!_ No confirmation of an official break, but the vibe is that one of the biggest fashion weddings of the century is history," the picture of Daniel and Betty from the cover of B.A.M. was shown, and then was ripped apart.

"'More juice – Vogue stylist . . ." Suzuki went on, until a stunned Claire flipped the TV in her office off.

"Why didn't Daniel call me?" she wondered aloud. And she couldn't believe her other son would do that – not without encouragement, anyway. Was Wilhelmina secretly driving Tyler to drink again? She seemed so satisfied at being solely in charge of MODE – even nice to her. No. It wasn't likely. She picked up the phone.

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Betty put down the half-eaten pan of brownies and brushed the crumbs off of her sky-blue terrycloth bathrobe. As upset as she was, she couldn't eat anymore. How could she have done this? She had only had one drink, and yet she hadn't remembered anything after that until she had seen that tape.

She apparently had hallucinated Daniel being there, because she had absolutely no recollection of Tyler at all. Where was he by the way? Seemed a little strange that if he indeed _was_ with her that night that he wouldn't have come back around.

She missed Daniel. Fighting with him was unbearable and they had never gone this long without making up. She couldn't sleep. She would just lie awake and let everything run over and over in her head, never fully comprehending any of it.

Their bed felt so cold and empty. His strong muscular arms, wrapped around her, always made her feel so safe and loved. The comfort of the sound and feel of his breath on her neck . . . the faint smell of his cologne . . . the way the stubble on his cheeks and chin grazed against her skin when he stirred . . . how he woke her almost every morning with the sweetest kisses . . . She could look into his deep blue eyes and know that every day would be perfect, because he was there - except he wasn't. He was gone.

Through some uncertain fault of her own, she had managed to screw-up the most important thing in her life. If she could take it all back, she would in a heartbeat. Why did she have that drink? Why did she even go to the gala without him? She could've had Amanda and Christina cover for her and gone to New York with Daniel instead of waiting. As much as her career meant to her, she'd give anything to make things right with Daniel. Nothing was right without him there.

A humming noise snapped her out of thought. She rummaged through the pile of junk food wrappers to find her phone. It was probably Christina again.

"Beatriz Maria Suarez, what the _hell_ are you doing? You'd better give me a straight answer or I'm gonna jump on a plane and bitch-slap you back to Queens!" the voice on the other line spoke.

"Hilda! Nice to hear from you, too – Goodbye . . ." Betty said, irritated. She didn't need anyone else on her case right then – especially when she wasn't even sure if she deserved it.

"What I think my beautiful wife means is that we love you, Chipmunk, and just want to make sure you're okay," Bobby explained after grabbing the phone from Hilda, before Betty almost hung up on her.

"Thank you, Bobby, that's very sweet of you. I'm fine," Betty told him.

Hilda snatched it back.

"_What_ is going on with you and Daniel? Did you really _do_ that to him?" she asked.

"_No!_ I don't know . . . How did you find out?" Betty wondered.

"Well it wasn't that hard, considering your nephew's the Prince of fashion gossip. Suzuki and TMZ are all over you guys." Hilda replied.

Betty proceeded to unveil all she knew to Hilda. Hilda was about to respond when Betty heard a knock at her door.

"Hilda, there's someone at the door. I think it might be Daniel – I've gotta go! Tell Papi not to worry!" Betty told her.

"Okay, but you'd better call me later and tell me everything!" Hilda conceded.

"I promise," Betty assured her and hung up. She rushed to the door, her eyes lit up with hope.

"Daniel . . ." she opened the door and her heart sank to the floor.

"Matt?" she said, unenthusiastically.

"Don't look so happy to see me," he joked.

"Sorry, I was just hoping it was Daniel. What are you doing here?" Betty explained.

"I thought I'd stop by and see how you were doing," Matt answered, handing her a single yellow rose.

He had been very sweet to her lately, since returning from his assignment. Shockingly he had allowed her to freely vent about Daniel, without making any criticisms of him. It was nice, but a little weird, considering how much animosity Matt had always had toward Daniel.

"Thanks. How did you find my apartment anyway?" she wondered, accepting the flower.

"It's in the company directory," he casually replied.

"Oh, right," she remembered.

Matt stood in the door, expectantly.

"Sorry – um – come in," she stepped back and allowed him to enter. "I'll be back in just a minute," she said.

Betty ran into her room to change. She almost forgot she was still in her robe. She returned in a pair of jeans and a thin heather gray sweater Daniel had left. It was long and slightly baggy on her, but wearing it made her remember the good times they had shared. She recalled the first moment she wore it, as she fingered the sleeve:

_It was the morning after their first night together and she had unexpectedly stayed in Daniel's hotel suite. She had overslept and was in a rush to get to work. After taking a quick shower and blow-drying her hair, she frantically searched for her top, so she could run home and change._

_She found a sweater in Daniel's dresser drawer and threw it on, figuring she'd worry about her top later. She started to put on her pants, when Daniel woke up. _

"_And just where do you think you're going, my sexy sweater thief?" Daniel audaciously asked as he rolled on his side, his hand propping up his head. _

_Betty was startled by his voice, not realizing he was awake yet, and distracted by the way he looked right then – his hair slightly disheveled, a single white sheet draped across his hips, revealing his chiseled upper body, his elbow casually resting on the pillow, a sly grin on his face. _

"Damn . . ." she softly said, fondly musing to herself. How she ever got to work that morning, she'd never know . . .

_She managed to snap herself back into focus and answered. _

_"I've got to go home and change, but I can't find my top," she once more attempted to pull on her pants. _

_"Wait," Daniel told her. He got out of bed, quickly stuck on his PJ bottoms and pulled out a belt from one of the drawers. "Here, try this," he smoothly wrapped it around her waist and kissed her neck. _

_"Sweater dresses are in," he softly spoke and handed Betty her black stiletto boots that stopped just below her knees. "Now you won't be late, and we can go in together," he winked at her and went to get ready . . . _

"Betty? Are you okay?" Matt snapped a happily dazed Betty back to the present.

"Yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?" she cleared her throat and tried to pay attention to him.

"I was just wondering if you were up for a movie?" he asked.

Betty sighed.

"Why not? I could use a distraction – just no romantic comedies or anything like that," she laughed.

"Deal," he agreed.

"Let me just find my purse," she replied.

He had her, Matt thought to himself. The more time he spent with her, letting her cry on his shoulder and forget about the bad times, and the longer Daniel stayed away – she'd be his exclusively in no time. And with Tyler keeping him busy, it wouldn't be hard at all . . .

Betty's phone went off just as they were heading out the door.

"Hello?" she didn't recognize the number.

"Is this Betty Suarez?" the man on the other end inquired.

"Yes," she says, curiously.

"We've got a Daniel Meade down here at the Westminster Gym. He's been involved in a scuffle with another one of our members. You were the first person in his directory. Could you come down here and vouch for him?" he asked.

"I'll be right there. Thank you," Betty answered, hanging up.

"I'm sorry, Matt. I've got to go – that was about Daniel. He's been in a fight, and I need to make sure he's okay," she informed a wondering Matt.

"Do you need me to go with you?" he offered, hoping she'd say 'yes' so he could flaunt it in Daniel's beaten up face.

"Thank you, but I think it would be best if I did this alone. I know you and Daniel aren't the greatest of friends. I don't want to upset him even more," Betty answered, appreciating his concern.

"Okay. So a rain check on the movie?" Matt asked.

"Sure," she smiled, in a hurry to get out of there and get to Daniel. She was so flustered by the call that she forgot to ask if he was badly hurt.

Matt gave her a hug.

"Call me, anytime," he broke the hug and leaned his head toward hers.

Is he actually trying to kiss me? Betty silently wondered. Seriously?

He barely brushed his lips on hers before she pushed him off of her. She slapped him, infuriated that he would try to take advantage of her at a time like that.

"Cancel our rain check, Matt - I'll see you at _work__!_" Betty stormed off, praying Daniel was okay.


	10. Chapter 10

_Thank you so much for continuing to read and comment! Many apologies for not getting a new chapter out sooner! On top of another extremely busy week, my hard drive crashed. Fortunately, I didn't lose anything, though. Anyway, here are two more additions to make up for it. Enjoy! :)_

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Betty ran into the gym, past the mob of media vultures outside the door, and spotted Daniel, who was being restrained at the security desk in the lobby. His lip was puffy and bleeding, the area around his left eye was bright red, and he had gashes above his right eyebrow and on his left shoulder. He was holding his right hand, and had a few minor cuts on his arms. She couldn't pick up her feet fast enough to get to him.

"Daniel! What happened to you?" she said, with a pained and worried look on her face.

She'd never seen him look this bad. It took everything in her not to throw her arms around his waist and just hold him. But she controlled herself. For one, she had no idea what other injuries he had that were undetected, and for another, she had a feeling she was the last person Daniel really wanted to see.

Daniel's eyes shot up when he heard that familiar female voice. Why the hell did they have to call her? He was sure all she'd do was condemn him for picking a fight, tell him it wasn't worth it and he should know better.

Not to mention that just the sound of her voice and the sight of that concerned look in her chocolate eyes made him want to hold her and tell her everything was okay – that he didn't care about anything that may or may not have happened before. Except he wasn't sure he was ready to do that yet.

He guessed it was something that she did show up. After hardly speaking the rest of the week, he wasn't sure she would even care. She was wearing his gray sweater. _God_ – was she trying to drive him crazy? He swallowed the lump in his throat. This was going to be tougher than he had thought.

"Daniel?" Betty repeated, lightly touching his arm.

He snapped out of his thoughts.

"Hi. Sorry you had to come down here. You – uh – you're still the first person on my contact list," he admitted, embarrassed. The only one who he'd call in something like this, he thought to himself, silently cursing for not having another good friend.

Betty looked down, thankful that he hadn't erased her from his life.

"So, I talked with the guards and they said that Tyler's pressing charges," she told him, already getting the entire picture.

"You're not even going to ask me what happened?" Daniel questioned, a little irritated that she would just assume.

"Nope. I already know the gist of it from the guards, and I figure if you want to talk about it, we can. If not, it's fine. I'm just glad you're still in one piece." Betty faintly smiled, afraid of looking directly in his eyes.

Tyler came by at that moment, also being held by guards. He sneered at Daniel then noticed Betty.

"Had a rockin' good time that night . . . You're one sexy little thing," he winked at her obnoxiously, trying to get another rise out of Daniel.

Betty gave him a disgusted look and felt like she was going to throw up.

Daniel began to lunge at Tyler again, but Betty put her hand on his chest and pleaded with her eyes for him to stop. Tyler continued to stand there, silently daring him to make another move.

"Let me talk to him." Betty said, begging Daniel to allow her to help.

He sighed and rolled his eyes in reluctant agreement.

Betty awkwardly approached Tyler.

"What did you do to me?" she calmly asked.

"I just gave you a night to never forget," Tyler replied, full of himself.

"Save the B.S. for someone who'll buy it! I'm pretty sure nothing really happened between us. And even if it did, I have no doubt it was involuntary on my part," she snapped.

His facial expression stayed the same, but she could tell from his eyes that she had him pegged.

"What do you have against me? What have I ever done to you? And Daniel – he's your _brother__!_ I know he hasn't been very accepting, but then again you obviously haven't tried very hard either. Daniel's a good man. And I'm sure, deep down, you are too. Amanda saw something special in you, and Claire really does love you," Betty attempted to reason with him.

Tyler remained quiet, looking down when Betty mentioned Amanda.

"Look, it would be nice if you and Daniel could try to work things out, but the least you could do is drop the charges against him. I promise I'll get him to do the same," she implored.

Tyler deliberated for a minute.

"Okay," he reluctantly conceded.

"Thank you," Betty said, and went back to Daniel.

"Tyler says he'll drop the charges – as long as you drop the ones on him," she informed him.

Daniel grumbled, glaring over at his brother.

"Fine," he begrudgingly agreed. He really didn't want that piece of scum to go free, but on the other hand, he didn't want to be locked up, himself.

"So what exactly did you guys talk about? Never mind – it's none of my business . . ." he trailed off.

He began to feel too weak to finish his sentences. He felt light-headed, cold, and numb. His knees weakened and he grabbed onto the desk for support.

Betty, so exasperated by his attitude, didn't realize anything was wrong.

"Yes, it _is_ your business, Daniel. For one, we were talking about you. And for another, you and I are still a team, as far as I'm concerned – no secrets. I know you're still upset with me. And truthfully, I'm not completely happy with you either right now, but . . . Daniel? Are you okay? Daniel?" Betty noticed Daniel had suddenly fainted. She knelt down on the floor next to him. "Daniel? Are you alright?" Betty worriedly asked as she saw him slowly open his eyes.

"I'm good," he sleepily told her as he came-to and attempted to get up.

"Let me help you," she reached out her hands, but he refused them.

"I'm okay," he stubbornly insisted, then regretted his refusal when he almost passed out again.

Betty caught hold of him before he did.

"We need to get you to the hospital - you might have a concussion. Did you hit your head on anything when you and Tyler were fighting?" she asked.

"He slammed my head against the wall a couple of times. But I'm fine. Don't feel like you have to hover over me," he fought to resist her, but it was becoming more and more difficult.

Betty tried another tactic.

"You think I'm doing this for you? You're wrong. I'm only demanding you see a doctor because I don't want to have to call your mother and explain to her that her son died of a head trauma, just because he refused to get the care he needed and I didn't drag him there anyway. So, Mr. I'm-So-Full-Of-Myself-Everything's-About-Me, this is about saving _my_ ass – not yours," she stated, matter-of-factly.

Daniel didn't budge.

"Oh, c'mon. You have to admit that was a little funny, right?" she coaxed.

Daniel couldn't contain his amusement any longer and gave her a big grin.

"See. Now, will you _please_ humor me?" Betty pleaded.

"I . . . thought I just did . . ." he smirked.

"_Daniel_ . . ." she groaned.

"Okay, bad choice of words. Can we please just go?" she begged him. She could tell he was feeling a little better, but didn't want to risk anything happening to him.

Daniel could see how worried she was. He could never resist her adorable persistence. He caved.

"Fine. I will go. But only because I want to get rid of this nagging headache," he agreed.

"Oh my god – is it worse? Maybe I need to call an ambulance," Betty panicked until she noticed his blue eyes twinkling. "Daniel, I swear, if you weren't already injured, I'd hurt you!" she half-threatened.

"Come on – help me get out of here," he grinned. He admitted to himself that the humor and the flirting did distract him from all the pain.

They quickly signed some forms for the guards before leaving. Betty carefully aided Daniel into the town car, while avoiding the crowd of press, and they headed for the hospital.

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"So, is he gone?" Matt asked, holding his phone to his ear, casually lounging on the couch.

"No. I dropped the charges." Tyler answered.

"You _what?_ We had a deal!" Matt yelled.

"Sorry, Bro, you're on your own. I'm out. I won't say anything about you, but I can't do this anymore. He's my brother and neither one of them really deserved this. We went too far. I'm done!" Tyler hung up.

Matt threw his phone across his hotel suite.

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"Aside from the cuts and bruises and a broken hand, you are doing surprisingly well, considering. It'll take a few weeks for your hand to heal. However, it seems you have a slight concussion, as well. It's nothing to be extremely concerned about, but you'll need to have someone watching out for you overnight," the doctor told Daniel, then glanced over at Betty.

Betty timidly caught Daniel's eyes. He awkwardly looked back at hers.

"That's not a problem, is it?" Dr. Thatcher asked. Betty and Daniel looked at each other again.

Betty could tell Daniel was not so eager to agree, but she was tired of silently fighting with his stubbornness. She cleared her throat.

"No, Dr. Thatcher – I'll take good care of him," she promised.

"Thank you, Dr." Daniel said as he carefully got up to leave.

"_What the hell was that?_" Daniel asked, when they finished signing him out.

"What?" Betty innocently responded.

"_That!_ The _'I'll take good care of him, Dr. Thatcher_'" he mocked.

"_You_ were being a mule and I knew _someone_ had to be the voice of reason. Did you _want_ to pay a huge bill just to stay in a cold, sterile hospital, wind-up eating god knows what for dinner, and end up with a stranger for a roommate? Do you hate me _that_ much? I was trying to do you a favor. Next time, I'll just let you fend for yourself. Let's see how long the Pampered Prince lasts _then!_" Betty huffed.

She couldn't believe she even came after him when she got the call. She knew it wasn't going to be easy - she was prepared for that. But he had the audacity to get pissed at her for offering to be his nurse?

_She_ was going to have to wake him up every couple of hours throughout the night, make sure his wounds were iced, that he took his medication, and that he didn't accidentally rip the stitches on his forehead and shoulder. All he cared about was his damn ego. If she didn't love him so much, she'd walk right then and there.

Daniel regretted his tone and choice of words. He didn't mean to sound so selfish and callous. It just sort of came out of him. He was frustrated and didn't want her to see that he still needed her, so he lashed out. He walked in front of her, blocking her path.

"I – I don't hate you," he admitted. He was actually the complete opposite of hating her.

He still loved her with every fiber of his being. He only hated how much she could still get under his skin – how she knew him so well.

"I'm sorry. It's been a rough day," he apologized.

She silently nodded and looked at him with forgiveness.

"Where are we staying?" he asked before they climbed into the car.

"Ho – the apartment," she hesitated, sadly wondering whether he'd ever consider it their home again. "It's more convenient, considering – if that's okay with you?" she added, unsure.

"No. It's fine," he agreed, dreading going back to what their life used to be, when he knew it wasn't that simple anymore.


	11. Chapter 11

"So, what do you want for dinner?" Betty asked after she got Daniel settled on the couch. "There's spaghetti with that jar sauce you like, frozen pizza, or takeout," she went through the almost empty supply of food, since she hadn't felt like going anywhere lately. Not that she knew how to cook much, anyway.

"Pizza's fine," Daniel answered as he carefully stood up and walked toward the kitchen.

"Mind if I take a shower?" he asked.

Betty looked up from putting the pizza in the oven.

"So _that's_ what that smell was?" she teased.

"_You_ spend an hour with a punching bag and a treadmill and see if you still have the scent of vanilla and cocoa butter," he countered.

Betty couldn't believe he still noticed.

There was an awkward silence.

"Go ahead – I'll start a salad and by that time, everything should be ready," she answered.

"Ok," he smiled.

Betty went back to chopping then stopped.

"Daniel – wait!" she yelled.

"What?" he walked back in.

"The doctor said no showering for a couple of days. She doesn't want you to get your hand or stitches wet – or for you to accidentally pull them out - sponge bath only," Betty informed him.

"Right . . ." Daniel unfortunately remembered. He hated having to rely on her.

"I'll be done in just a few minutes," she nervously told him.

After changing into something that she didn't care about getting wet, Betty timidly walked into the bathroom, finding Daniel sitting in his boxers on one of the benches next to the sink. He was attempting to get his shirt off himself, but failing.

"Here, let me help," she offered and carefully eased his arms out, making sure not to get his injured hand or shoulder caught in the material.

She ran water in the sink and grabbed a bottle of shampoo, body wash, a couple of washcloths and a hand towel. She folded the towel and placed it at the edge of the sink.

"Lean your head back," she said.

As she slowly eased his head under the sink, making sure his neck was padded by the towel, they briefly caught each other's eyes before immediately turning away.

She awkwardly cleared her throat and placed a folded washcloth over his forehead to protect his stitches. She wet his hair, carefully cupping the water in her hand, making sure not to splash any. She then drained the water out of the sink and started applying the shampoo in his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

_What was she trying to do to him?_ Her fingers running through his hair were driving Daniel insane. Feeling her breath and being so close . . . knowing how hard she was trying to take care of him, despite their problems . . . He knew he was supposed to be mad at her, but it was almost impossible when she was making him feel so good . . .

His guard began to let down even more when Betty started washing his face. Making eye contact was unavoidable. The cool water on his skin . . . her gentle touch . . . her lips so close to his . . .

_Keep it together, Betty_, she told herself as she forgot what she was doing and rubbed the cloth too hard against his chest.

Daniel winced.

"Sorry - I'm so sorry!" she apologized and tried to focus.

_It's just a sponge bath_, she repeated in her mind. It wouldn't be any different if she were a nurse. _Do the job and get out. He's just a wounded guy_, she silently reasoned with herself.

Except he wasn't. He was _Daniel_ – _her_ Daniel. And he was naked and hurt, and regardless of their trust issues she couldn't help but be drawn to him. Honestly, there wasn't much of anything about him that hadn't turned her on – from the way he obsessed over the pettiest things (like which shirt to wear to a media event) to his unsuccessful poker face (the twitching corners of his mouth and the twinkle in his eyes always gave him away) . . .

"Betty? Are you okay?" Daniel snapped her back to reality as she realized she was clutching the washcloth so tight that it made a small puddle of water on his stomach.

"I–I'm fine!" she said, a little too perkily, as she quickly grabbed a towel. She continued to gingerly wipe down his scratched-up arms.

As she reached over to get his other shoulder, her breath on his neck . . . her cleavage practically in his face for a brief moment . . . he couldn't take it any longer. The heat between them was too much for him to bear.

He gently grabbed her arm. She was startled at first, but then timidly leaned her head in as they brushed each other's lips. Sinking more into the moment, he tenderly latched onto her upper lip, immediately regretting it.

"Ahhh!" he cringed in pain, forgetting his mouth was busted.

"_Ohhh_ . . . Baby I'm sorry. I should've known better," Betty caressed Daniel's jaw line in concern.

"No, it's my fault. Don't worry about it," he rubbed her arm, assuring her.

They stared awkwardly at each other, then began to laugh at the whole situation.

"Is something burning?" Daniel noticed.

"Oh my god – the pizza!" Betty ran out of the bathroom to check on it. She came back in a few minutes later. "Unless you like your pizza extra charred, I think it's ruined," she informed him.

Daniel laughed.

"So much for multi-tasking," he mused.

"Hey! I will have you know that I am the queen of multi-tasking. I had to be, working for you," she joked.

He smiled.

"So what now?" he asked.

"I just called and ordered another one," she said as she handed him clothes to change into and helped him put them on.

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"I thought we could pick out a movie while we wait for the pizza." Betty suggested, once they were back in the living room.

"Okay," Daniel agreed as Betty brought out their salads. "Hey, Betty? Where are all of my movies?" he asked, having a really bad feeling when he glanced at a glass on top of what appeared to be a DVD.

_Oh god!_ Betty suddenly remembered what she did. "Umm . . . Let's see what's on TV – or better yet, let's play a game. I want a rematch in Scrabble –" she stalled.

"_Betty_ . . ." Daniel knew she was hiding something.

"You know . . . this is funny – I promise you're gonna laugh," she nervously and too perkily said.

He gave her a skeptical look.

"I was going through an anger phase a couple of days ago and I . . ." she trailed off and started mumbling.

"What?" Daniel anticipated a more coherent response.

"I . . . I used them as coasters and threw the rest out in the trash," Betty spit out and then ducked for cover.

"You _what?_ _Betty!_" Daniel exclaimed, shocked and pissed at the same time.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" she told him. "I regretted it a few hours after I had done it – I was just so frustrated at the time, I didn't think about what I was doing . . ." Betty tried to defend herself.

Daniel reluctantly held back his anger and remained silent.

"I'll replace them – I promise," she insisted. He still didn't speak. "I'll even throw in that Blu-ray player you want for Christmas . . .?" she bargained, hopefully.

"Fine," Daniel grumbled.

Betty grinned and kissed his cheek.

"I really am sorry, Daniel." she said, seriously.

"I know," he said, putting his good arm around her. "So, what are my choices now? And please don't make me watch a cartoon!" he begged her before she started showing him the remaining selection.

He finally settled on "When Harry Met Sally". It was a classic, and at least it had a guy's point of view to it.

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Eating proved harder than he had thought it would, with his busted lip. The salad was worse than the pizza, but he still ended up having to have Betty cut it up for him. He felt like a child, without the use of his hand.

After eating, they curled up on opposite sides of the couch and watched the rest of the movie, unaware of gradually falling into their familiar patterns together by the end.

Both lying on the same side of the couch, Daniel had his arm wrapped around Betty's stomach and Betty was absently playing with his fingers, which were intertwined with her own. There was silence when the credits were finished.

"You still awake?" Betty coyly looked up at Daniel.

"Yeah," he smiled down at her.

"I'd better set the alarm on my phone just in case. And it's time for you to take more of your pain meds," she broke the moment and slowly got up, careful not to harm Daniel in the process.

"It's only 9:30PM – wanna watch another one?" she asked.

"Sure. You pick, this time," he agreed.

Betty searched through her stack of movies and landed on "Two Weeks Notice". She needed another comedy, and that one always brought back memories.

"That one, again?" Daniel questioned.

"What? It's one of my favorites," she countered.

"Yeah, I know – haven't you worn it out by now?" he joked, secretly liking it himself.

"Like you haven't worn out 'The Godfather', 'Lethal Weapon', or 'Austin Powers'?" she playfully fired back.

His mouth dropped.

"Fine. You got me – let's get this over with," he rolled his eyes.

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"I can't believe he called her at 3AM for advice on another girl," Daniel remarked.

"_I_ can," Betty argued, giving Daniel a look.

"What? I never did that to you," he innocently insisted.

"Daniel, you drunk-dialed me so many times over the years I lost count. And most of those calls were about whatever random girl you were with at the time," she corrected him. "I also remember even having to come get you a few times," she pointed out.

Daniel grumbled in regretful agreement.

Further into the movie, Betty started laughing and shook her head at Daniel.

"Don't look at me like that!" he said, defensively.

Betty paused the movie.

"Thanksgiving, a few years ago? You called me out of dinner with my family, claiming it was an emergency. I rushed all the way to your apartment only to find you couldn't decide on a shirt to wear to impress Sofia Reyes. You were just as bad, if not worse sometimes," she mused.

Daniel hung his head.

"Alright – I was scum," he admitted.

"No. You were just incredibly needy. Not that I minded. I actually found it cute, most of the time," Betty assured him. "And you got better – stopped coming to me at all, certain times last year. I was out of the loop with Tyler – Amanda, of all people, filled me in. What _was_ that, anyway?" she asked.

"I don't know. I guess after going to extremes to protect you from Matt and trying to protect you at work, I realized I probably needed to back off. You weren't my assistant anymore, and I knew you had your own problems to work through without me dumping on you," he explained.

"After what happened with Molly, I was trying not to rely on you so much – prove that I could handle things on my own. I didn't do so well, and Amanda was already my 'fun buddy', so I just told her my problems. Believe me, she was no you. But that time when we were fighting over your blog award, she really helped me gain some perspective," Daniel confessed.

"I'm sorry you felt like you had to distance yourself from me. I know I told you I didn't want special treatment at work, because everyone knew how close we were. But it didn't mean I wanted us to stop being friends. You could have always come to me. It hurt a little when you turned to Amanda - especially when I caught you in my hallway in your boxers – not the greatest way for me to find out about you two," she admitted.

"So _that's_ why you were acting so weird when you saw me? Because it's not like we hadn't been caught in worse situations before. Were you jealous?" Daniel asked, enjoying it a little too much.

"No! Well, maybe. I mean, I didn't want to think about you two . . . you know. And you never said a word to me about it before then. Plus I was stressing out with my family living with me . . ." she excused.

"_You_ were jealous," he grinned, satisfyingly.

"Okay, okay. Yes. I was jealous. You were flaunting your sex life in my face and I had no one at the time," she continued to deny it. "Can we go back to the movie now?" Betty pleaded.

"Whatever," Daniel smirked, amused.

She rolled her eyes and turned the movie back on.

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Betty woke up, in Daniel's arms on the couch, to the sound of her alarm. It was midnight and he was still fast asleep.

"Daniel? Hey, Daniel?" she gently nudged him.

"Hmmm? What? Come back to bed, babe," he muttered.

"No. Daniel, sweetie, you've gotta wake up for me," she nudged him a little harder this time.

"Huh?" Daniel's eyes sprung open and his head shot up.

"Hey," Betty quietly said. "Sorry – Round 1 of making sure you're still okay," she smiled. "Besides, I think you'll be more comfortable in a bed anyway. C'mon," Betty helped a sleepy Daniel off the couch and settled him in their bed. She turned to leave when Daniel stopped her.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm sleeping on the couch," she innocently replied.

"Why?" he wondered.

"I just thought you wouldn't . . ." Betty trailed off.

"Stay," he requested.

"Okay," she hesitantly agreed. "Let me go get my phone," she headed off to the living room.

Were they actually making progress? There were some moments earlier when she thought they might still have a chance. And his asking her to stay was a pretty big one. But it could just be the drugs and sleepiness, she second guessed, trying not to get too hopeful.

_Just take it slow_, she told herself as she took a deep breath and went back into their bedroom.

Daniel had already fallen asleep again, and Betty quietly crawled in beside him. He moaned and sub-consciously wrapped his arm around her. She smiled and closed her eyes.

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Betty's alarm went off again. It was 8AM - the last of many awakenings throughout the night. She reached for her phone and groaned.

"Daniel . . ." she absently felt for his arm.

"Mmm . . . Yeah . . ." Daniel muttered.

"Daniel . . . You have to get up," Betty half-heartedly insisted as she turned over to face him.

"Hey . . . ." he sleepily smiled.

"Hey," Betty smiled back. "You feeling okay?" she asked.

"Like a truck ran over me," he replied.

"I'll go get your medicine," Betty started to get out of bed.

"Wait," Daniel grabbed her arm. "I wanted to talk to you," he tried to sit up.

She warily lied back down next to him.

"I . . . uh . . . I want to thank you for what you did for me yesterday. I know I didn't make it easy on you and I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Daniel . . ." Betty began.

"Wait. Just hear me out," he requested. "You didn't have to come get me, and you didn't have to take care of me. But you did. You put up with all my crap, despite everything we've just been through. And I realized, it doesn't matter what the tape shows or what Tyler or the tabloids say. I believe you. I know now that you didn't do it, because anyone who would go out of their way like you did, wouldn't have cheated in the first place," he recognized.

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't see it earlier. I just – I've always had trust issues. My entire family life has consisted of lies and schemes and cheating at one point or another. And when I thought you were just like them, I broke down; because you were the only person I could count on no matter what," he revealed.

"I know we promised a long time ago not to put each other on pedestals, but I couldn't help it. I've been happier in these past few months than I've ever been before. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the dream to be over. And for a moment, I thought it had. I'm so sorry, baby, and I completely understand if you can't forgive me," Daniel took a breath in and nervously waited for Betty's response.

Betty was silent for a few minutes while she gathered her thoughts.

"You have to know by now that I would do anything for you, Daniel. A part of me wants to just forget everything that's happened the past few days and just go back to normal. But I can't. I know you've had problems with your family, and it's clouded your judgment," she hesitantly fidgeted with the comforter, knowing what she might say next could end their relationship for good.

"But you can't compare me, or anyone else, to them. It's not fair. Especially after all we've been through together. You really hurt me. And I'm sorry that you had to go through this - I know you were hurt, too. But we have to support each other – even if all the evidence is stacked against us. Otherwise, this won't work. I love you - more than anything in this world - but I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me," Betty told him, trying to hold back tears.

"Hey . . . Hey . . . Look at me," Daniel wiped her tears with the pad of his thumb. "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. It's going to take some time for both of us to heal, to get back to where we were before. But I'm willing to fight, if you are. There's nothing that I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you too much to let you go. So are you with me?" he asked.

Betty meekly nodded as Daniel held up his good hand. Betty skeptically slapped it.

"Alright!" he grinned.

"You're such a dork," she teased.

"Yeah, I know," he smiled, embarrassed.

"But I love you anyway," Betty tenderly kissed his cheek.

They held each other, relieved to have the worst behind them, and ended up falling back asleep again.

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Betty slowly opened her eyes and fumbled for her phone – 9:30AM.

"Hey, babe, you want me to get you a bagel?" she gently nudged Daniel. "Babe? You really need to take your pills," she tried again. "Daniel?" she gently shook him.

He didn't budge.

"Daniel, this really isn't funny. Baby, wake up! Daniel!" Betty began to panic. She checked to see if he was still breathing, and let out a sigh of relief before frantically calling an ambulance.


	12. Chapter 12

_Thank you again for reading and reviewing! I'm giving you guys an extra long chapter to make up for how long it's been since I've posted one. However, you might not like me once you get to the end of it, lol . . . Enjoy! :)_

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The next half hour was a blur. Betty quickly changed and threw some of Daniel's clothes in a duffel bag while she waited for the paramedics to arrive. So many questions were asked as they tried to assess Daniel's condition. Before Betty knew it, she was riding next to him in the ambulance, holding onto his hand so tight, afraid of letting go.

As he was wheeled into the ER on a stretcher, she was forced to break her grasp and entrust the doctors with the one person who mattered most in her life: her soul mate. The trauma room doors slammed shut in her face and she was left alone, sitting in confusion.

Had she done something wrong? She had followed the doctor's specific instructions. Did she miss something? She woke him up every two hours until morning. She made sure he took his medication. She iced his wounds. She didn't allow him to bathe alone. She watched that he didn't pull any stitches. She made sure he didn't drink any alcohol. She continued to go over this in her mind, obsessing until she couldn't take it anymore.

What was taking so long? It had been over an hour. Shouldn't the doctors have treated him by now – at least have _some_ information for her? He had to be okay. He couldn't _not_ be okay. He was her whole world; they just made up and were working things out; they were getting married . . . She couldn't lose him – not now. _Not ever._ He couldn't be – she didn't even want to think about it . . .

Daniel's phone rang. She took it outside, and absently answered without noticing the caller ID.

"Hello?" "Betty? Is that you?" the female voice on the other end asked.

"Yes . . . Claire?" she guessed.

"Yes. Hello, dear. I'm so glad to hear from you! So I take it the rumors are false?" Claire inquired.

"I-it's a long story, but I'll explain later. I was meaning to call you – everything's such a mess . . ." she trailed off, trying not to cry.

"What is it, Betty?" Claire asked, concerned.

"Daniel's in the hospital. He – he had a concussion yesterday and the doctor told me to watch him overnight. He was fine this morning. I checked on him just like she said - every 2 hours until morning. He was supposed to be okay after that. But we fell back asleep and I woke up and – and . . . _Oh god . . .!"_ Betty started crying, she couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Shhh . . . Calm down, sweetheart. It will be alright. Tell me which hospital you're at and I'll be there right away," Claire assured her.

"Raines Memorial. You mean by tonight, right?" she asked between sniffles, confused.

"I'm already in London. I flew in on the family plane early this morning and was just recovering in my suite from the jet lag. I will talk to you more when I get there, dear. Goodbye," Claire hung up.

It was a good thing she had made that call to Ignacio and got Hilda's number. She knew those two had to be in some sort of trouble if the media was already involved. And how in the world did her son wind up with a concussion? She prayed that he is alright, and called for a car service.

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"Betty?" Claire startled her out of her thoughts.

Betty got up and immediately threw her arms around Claire. She was so relieved to see a familiar face, someone who understood her apprehensiveness and who cared about Daniel as much as she did. Claire had always been like a second mother to Betty.

Ever since Betty had taken her to the spa a few years ago as a favor to Daniel, Claire had shown Betty guidance, respect, affection, and had cared for her and her family as if Betty were a part of her own. She felt comfort in knowing Claire was there. She was so scared for Daniel and knew he would need all the support he could get, especially from his mother.

"I'm so sorry - I should be the one comforting you, not the other way around!" Betty apologized, while wiping her tear-stained face. They both sat down in the waiting room chairs.

"Nonsense, dear. I know how much my son means to you – how much he's _always_ meant to you," Claire gave her a perceptive look.

Betty questioned her with her eyes.

"Oh, come on Betty, don't play dumb with me. You have done anything and everything for that boy since the moment you met him. Granted, part of it was your job, but most of it was out of love, friendship, and loyalty. And my son was the same. No matter how much you two denied, ignored, or were just plain oblivious to it, you loved each other. I always knew you two would end up together – it just took a lot more time than I thought it would for the both of you to own up to it," Claire mused. "Now, tell me what happened – from the beginning," she insisted.

Betty took a deep breath and began to speak when a doctor approached them.

"Ms. Suarez?" he asked.

"Yes?" Betty answered as she and Claire nervously stood up.

"I'm Dr. Michaels," Betty offered him her hand.

"Betty," she told him. He looked hesitantly at Claire.

"This is Daniel's mother, Claire Meade. Obviously, whatever you have to tell me, you can tell her," Betty assured him, while Claire offered him her hand.

"Daniel's head trauma was exacerbated by what we assume to be incorrect medication. After running a blood test, he appeared to be taking large dosages of an anticoagulant – we're assuming it may have been coumadin – which aggravated his brain injury and resulted in a subdural hematoma, or bleeding in his brain. His ICP, or intracranial pressure, level was elevated too high to prep him for surgery. Therefore, we had to drill burr holes in his temples in order to temporarily alleviate the pressure," the doctor explained.

"Oh my god! Is he going to be okay?" Betty asked, freaking out at the thought of a power tool being driven through her fiancé's head. She winced, imagining it, and just hoped that Daniel was alright. If she hadn't gotten him there in time, she'd never forgive herself.

"He has been stabilized, is receiving protamine – a drug used to reverse coumadin's effects. He is also undergoing a plasma transfusion, and is currently being prepped for a craniotomy – a procedure where we temporarily remove part of his skull and suction out the excessive blood in his brain that is causing the problem. I just need you to sign these forms for approval," Dr. Michaels finished his extensive report and held out a clipboard and pen.

When Claire didn't reach for it, Betty did, and immediately handed it to her.

"No, dear, he will be your husband soon enough," she insisted, still trying to absorb all of the information, giving Betty full responsibility of her son.

"Technically, unless you and Daniel are married or have his health power of attorney, I'm afraid his mother will have to authorize the procedure," Dr. Michaels informed Betty.

She incredulously handed the clipboard back to Claire. Thank god she was already in town! What would she have done if she hadn't been? Daniel's entire family lived either in New York or Paris. What if she hadn't been able to get in touch with someone? Would the doctors really have refused to properly care for him, even with knowing she was his fiancée? Betty shuddered at the thought.

Claire's hand shook like a leaf as she signed the papers. Betty's mind raced, watching her. Surgery? Brain surgery? Oh god! She went numb and felt as if she was going to throw up and faint at the same time. While she was sure she'd think of a ton of questions to ask later on, right then, she was finding it extremely hard to take everything in.

"One more thing – do you happen to have the medication prescribed to him?" Dr. Michaels asked Betty as he took the forms from Claire.

Betty frantically searched her bag and handed the bottle over.

"Th – they were just painkillers - Tylenol. Nothing was ever mentioned about an anticoagulant," Betty commented, puzzled.

The doctor opened up the bottle and studies the pills.

"These aren't painkillers. I'll have the lab take a look at these, but I am almost positive these are a generic form of Coumadin," he informed them.

"How the hell did this happen? What kind of hospital is this that the god damned pharmacy can't tell the difference between a pain killer and a blood thinner? My son's life is on the line because of you people! And don't doubt for a second that I won't sue your incompetent asses off!" Claire suddenly became enraged.

Betty took a deep breath and pulled herself together. She put her hand on Claire's arm and tried to calm her down.

"Claire, I'm extremely upset, too – infuriated, actually. But Dr. Michaels didn't cause this. Let's just let him do his job in treating Daniel and worry about making whoever did this pay, later. Daniel's who we should be focusing on right now – he's all that matters," she reasoned, her voice cracking as she held back tears of her own shock, frustration, and anger.

Claire reluctantly backed off.

"We promise we'll do everything possible to save your son," Dr. Michaels sincerely assured her and left.

"Oh, Betty, I can't lose my baby boy . . ." a usually calm and collected Claire broke down in her arms.

Betty began to cry along with her.

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"Is she gone?" The female voice asked.

"She arrived here early this morning," Matt answered.

"Perfect. While the bitch is away, I'll make sure she pays . . ." the woman remarked and abruptly hung up the phone.

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Claire searched through her purse for a tissue and stumbled across a small photo album. She must have forgotten to unpack it when she got to the hotel. She pulled the book out, deciding then was as good a time as any to look through it.

"Betty, I want to show something to you. I was planning on showing it to both you and Daniel, but I think it might make both of us feel better if we look at it now," Claire opened the book and moved closer to Betty, so they could both see it.

"Oh my god – is that Daniel?" she asked, viewing a photo of a tiny infant with a red crinkled up face and a touch of blond fuzz on his head.

"Yes, that's his first picture, right after they cleaned him up. He definitely wasn't in a very good mood," Claire smiled as they continued to flip through the photos.

"Aww . . ." Betty noticed a picture of Daniel and Alex asleep in the car, their heads on top of each other's.

"Yes, that was on our trip to Vermont. Bradford and I had decided to give them a different experience by driving instead of flying. The boys had tired themselves out, being in the car for practically eight hours straight – Bradford was not one for pit-stops. They fought like cats and dogs over an insignificant Transformer and whether Superman or Spiderman was the best superhero," she rolled her eyes.

"Bradford got so infuriated with them that he threw the Transformer out the window. I had to hand it to him, even though some of his parenting tactics could be considered cold, it did make the boys stop bickering with each other and bond over the loss of their beloved toy. But it was one of the most stressful family vacations ever. Understandably, it's the first and last time we drove on a trip that extensive," she fondly remembered.

Betty burst out laughing when she came across a couple more snapshots.

"Look at his hair – and those clothes! Daniel officially has no room to talk about the ridiculous outfits I wore anymore." she shook her head in amusement at a younger Daniel in a white dress shirt, briefs, white socks, and black shades, playing air-guitar. She could just picture him sliding across the floor, jamming to the music.

The next showed him with slightly longer, spiked hair, a tight t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and snuggly-fitted, light faded jeans with holes cut in them, holding a guitar.

"Daniel never told me he played the guitar." Betty commented, intrigued.

"Yes, well he tried. He and his friends formed a band. They were convinced they would be the next Bon Jovi," Claire smiled.

"Aww . . . I'll have some great stuff to hold over him, now," Betty said, mischievously.

Claire chuckled.

But then Betty heard someone over the loudspeaker paging a doctor and is brought back to reality.

"If he makes it out of here . . ." her voice began to tremble, and then she realized what she just said.

"I'm sorry – I'm so sorry – I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't be _thinking_ it! I – I'm just scared," Betty apologized to Claire. What _was_ she thinking? His mother was probably worried enough as it was without her contributing.

"It's quite alright, dear. I don't expect you to hold your true fears inside and walk on eggshells. You know I'm tougher than that. I'm afraid, too. But I'm a fighter - and so are you, and so is Daniel. He's going to get through this – he's a Meade. And _you_ will soon be one, too," Claire gave her a perceptive look and hugged her in reassurance.

"Can I get you some coffee or something to eat?" Betty offered Claire, after gaining her composure. She was unable to sit still any longer. Withstanding hours of torture in the private surgical waiting room had finally gotten to her.

"Perhaps a cup of coffee would help. I know I'm too nervous to eat anything right now. Thank you, sweetheart," Claire answered.

"Okay – I'm going to run down to the cafeteria. Call me if you hear anything," she squeezed her hand and left.

On her way to the cafeteria Betty simultaneously texted Hilda, Christina, Amanda, and Marc that Daniel was in the hospital having major emergency brain surgery. She knew that Hilda would contact Papi for her, and that she'd let everyone know all the details after she felt up to it and hopefully had better news.

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Betty came back with an entire sack full of food and two cups of coffee.

"I called Alexis. She and DJ will be coming in as soon as they can book a flight," Claire informed Betty, while she put her phone away. When she noticed the sack, she just stared at her in disbelief.

"Betty, darling, did you go to the grocery store?" she wondered

"No . . ." Betty sighed, handing Claire her coffee and setting the heavy bag down.

"I just got a couple of sandwiches, a couple of salads, a raisin bagel, an onion bagel, some fruit, five bags of chips, half a dozen chocolate chip cookies, and some fudge brownies," Betty innocently answered as she started unwrapping one of the sandwiches and offered Claire the other one.

"No, thank you, dear," Claire politely refused.

Betty put it back in the bag and vigorously began to eat hers. Daniel's procedure was going to take multiple hours, and the distraction was the only thing keeping her from going off the deep end.

"So, Betty, you were about to tell me what really went on between you and Daniel," Claire inquired as she sipped her coffee.

Betty swallowed the rest of her sandwich and tried to think of how to start. So much had happened since then, that everything was beginning to run together.

She gathered her thoughts and proceeded to tell Claire the entire story, while nervously bingeing on more of the food she had purchased.

Claire was very understanding and was horrified that her other son might have done something like that to Betty and his own brother, or anyone for that matter.

"Do you have any proof yet?" she asked.

"No. All we have is the security tape from our apartment. And that doesn't prove anything as far as a possibility of him or someone else drugging me or something. I haven't really had a whole lot of time to dig any deeper," Betty answered.

"You mentioned you don't remember much after you had your first drink. Could one of the bartenders have slipped you something?" Claire wondered.

"It's definitely possible. Maybe I should check the security camera tape there," Betty agreed. She paused to contemplate all of the disasters that had happened for a moment. "You don't think the medication mix-up was part of it, do you?" Betty speculated.

"Betty, after hearing all that has occurred in yours and my son's lives within the past two weeks, I sadly wouldn't dismiss it as a possibility. I love my other son. However, after knowing Tyler's history with drinking and witnessing Wilhelmina's shooting, I unfortunately would not be surprised," she stated, hesitating before continuing.

"But I don't feel he could have done this strictly of his own volition. However, considering the issues he has with abandonment, which are unfortunately my fault, it wouldn't take much for Tyler to be influenced by someone out of vulnerability and the need for approval," Claire sighed, disappointed with herself for failing to be there for her youngest son.

"It wasn't your fault, Claire. You tried to do the right thing for Tyler, and he's still alive today because you didn't listen to Cal," Betty eased Claire's insecurities of having given her son up for adoption. "And now that I think about it, Tyler wouldn't have been involved in switching Daniel's medication, anyway. He might still hold a slight grudge against Daniel, but he did agree to drop the charges against him after their fight at the gym. I don't think he would have done that if he had intended on harming Daniel anymore," Betty said, encouragingly.

"So you honestly think it could have just been a natural error made by the hospital's pharmaceutical staff?" Claire asked.

"It could be. I wonder if they have cameras planted in the pharmacy as well?" Betty inquired.

"I'm not sure, but I'm going to find out. Stay here just in case there is any news on Daniel. I'm going to go work my Meade charm and get us some answers," Claire told Betty and rushed off on a mission.

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Betty nervously tried to open another bag of chips while she waited. It ended up exploding, the chips scattering all over the floor. She bent down and started picking them up, tears brimming in her eyes. It was just one more thing to add to her day.

"Need some help?" Betty noticed a pair of men's sneakers and jeans and looked up.

"Tyler! What are you doing here?" she asked, shocked and angered.

"Mom got a hold of me," he answered.

Betty tried to comprehend why Claire would contact him, knowing what he had more than likely done to her and Daniel. And why would Tyler want to be here – to revel in everyone's pain?

"Haven't you done enough damage to your brother already? Just go away – I can't stand to be in the same room with you right now!" Betty snapped.

"Wait – I came for a reason," Tyler stopped her. "I uh, have a confession to make," he began, gesturing for Betty to sit down.

"You're right. I was trying to get back at Daniel. He's always had everything, and wouldn't give me a chance. Did you know he tried to buy me off? And he kept Amanda from me when he didn't even want her - acted like I needed his permission to date her. I guess I just wanted to take something away from him – the one person who meant the most to him – make it even, you know?" he bowed his head in shame. "I'm really sorry," he quietly said.

Betty could see that he meant it.

"Well, I can't say that I forgive you or that Daniel will – if he even makes it out of here . . ." she trailed off, holding back more tears. "But I'm grateful for your honesty. How - how did you do it?" Betty tried to remain calm.

"I found out Daniel would be out of town. I got a job as a bartender at the same place I knew the gala would be held . . . secretly slipped something in your drink that would make you hallucinate. Then I went to your apartment and waited for you, made you think I was Daniel. Which wasn't hard since that drug could make you think I was Heidi Klum," he confessed.

"Did you – did we – you know?" she nervously asked, expecting the worst.

"No! No – I never would've gone that far. You tore off your own dress and then passed out on the bed. I immediately left," Tyler insisted.

Betty sighed in relief. But simply knowing what _did_ happen made her shudder. He drugged her . . . stalked her . . . deceived her . . . seduced her in her own home – her and Daniel's home . . . saw her naked . . . exploited her . . . used her to get to Daniel . . . Tyler almost ruined her and Daniel's relationship – the best thing that had ever happened to her, the one thing that mattered most in her life.

And to think of what Daniel had gone through. If he hadn't been in that fight with Tyler over her, he wouldn't be battling for his life right now. This made her second guess her original instinct about Tyler and this entire situation. Maybe this had been part of his plan all along – to mentally torture Daniel with losing her to the brother he loathed and then physically torturing him one way or another to get rid of him.

Betty felt sick to her stomach again. Would Tyler really go that far to gain attention from his mother? Off Daniel to become Claire's only existing son? Could that really be true? Surely Claire and Cal couldn't have produced such a vile and twisted human being. He did confess to everything on his own and seemed to regret it. But she had to know about the medication.

"Did you drug Daniel, too?" she inquired.

"What? What do you mean?" Tyler asked, confused.

"Come on, Tyler, don't lie to me! You switched his medication, didn't you?" she accused him.

"What medication? I don't know what you're talking about – I swear!" Tyler insisted.

"He's telling the truth," Claire suddenly appeared in the waiting room.

"I just viewed the security tape from the pharmacy. It was a Hartley . . . but it wasn't Tyler," she informed Betty.

"Matt?" Betty deduced in disbelief. Claire nodded.

"Oh my god! But he – I – " Betty stuttered, struggling to find coherent words, a million thoughts running through her mind. However, she was interrupted.

"Ms. Suarez? Mrs. Meade? We have some news," Dr. Michaels approached them.

A surgeon was beside him with spots of blood still on her scrubs. Betty and Claire turned around and simultaneously grabbed each other's hands, preparing for the worst.


	13. Chapter 13

_Thank you again for reading and for all of your comments! :)_

_In response to AndromedaAiken: No, I'm not a med student, but I'm flattered you thought I might be, lol. Truthfully, I spent a lot of time in hospitals, as a patient when I was younger, so medical shows and procedures have always intrigued me. Because of that, I try to do my research and incorporate them as realistically as I can. :) _

_Now, I won't leave you guys in suspense any longer, lol. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! :)_

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"Ms. Suarez, Mrs. Meade, this is Dr. Elizabeth Hunter. She's one of the top neurosurgeons in Europe," Dr. Michaels introduced them and allowed Dr. Hunter to explain.

Betty felt like her knees were caving in again. She couldn't take her eyes off of the blood – Daniel's blood – on Dr. Hunter's scrubs. _Oh god_ – something happened! He couldn't – he – he couldn't be – She took a deep breath, tried to focus.

" . . . Daniel has been stabilized and seems to be recovering well. He did suffer from a few complications. Another bleed occurred, causing his BP to drop and his heart to go into cardiac arrest. Fortunately, we were able to revive him and finish the procedure. We will need to keep a close eye on him in the ICU, but we expect a full recovery," Dr. Hunter assured them.

"Oh, thank god!" Claire exclaimed and hugged Betty, then Tyler.

Tears of joy and relief streamed down Betty's face.

"Now, I'd just like to prepare you for what might happen when you see Daniel. He might suffer from some temporary memory loss. It's common in most patients who undergo neurosurgery. But there is no need to be alarmed – most patients are back to normal very soon. Some don't even have a problem at all, but I just wanted to make sure you kept that in mind, and didn't panic," Dr. Hunter informed them.

"Dr. Michaels, could you please take them to Daniel's room?" she asked and prepared to leave.

They all thanked the surgeon and nervously walked what seemed to be twenty miles before they got to his room.

"He's still waking up from the anesthesia, so he might be a little groggy," Dr. Michaels told them. "I'll leave you two alone with him," he said.

Betty and Claire thanked him and timidly went in, while Tyler waited outside.

Betty was overwhelmed with emotion when she walked toward Daniel's bedside. He looked so weak, so helpless just lying there asleep . . . his head bandaged . . . his face and arms still cut and bruised from the fight with Tyler . . . his broken hand still in a cast . . . his face pale. And yet, he was alive – he was going to be okay. She sat down and grabbed his good hand.

"Hey, baby, you're going to be fine. I'm right here," Betty quietly told him.

Claire was on the opposite side, her hand on his forearm, smiling, relieved.

Daniel began to randomly mutter in his sleep.

"Mmm . . . Betty . . . forget your panties . . ." he smiled. Betty's face turned red in embarrassment.

"_Daniel!_ You're _mother's_ here," she whispered in his ear and prayed he'd shut up or wake up before he said anything worse.

"Well at least we know _that_ part of his brain wasn't damaged," Claire broke the awkwardness. "Leave it to my son to only have one thing on his mind . . ." she rolled her eyes.

"Figures," Betty sheepishly smiled, still not able to directly look at Claire, yet.

Daniel continued to fade in and out for the next half hour.

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"Betty . . .?" Daniel slowly opened his eyes, feeling like a semi ran over his chest and a boulder was dropped on his head. His throat was scratchy and his mouth felt like cotton. Betty looked over at him.

"Hey," Betty smiled and lovingly kissed his cheek, thankful that he still recognized her.

He gave her a pleasantly surprised look that went unnoticed. Betty had always been the more touchy-feely one in their friendship, but she'd never kissed him before. Whatever happened to him must be _really _bad. How did he break his hand? And _what_ was that itchy thing wrapped around his head?

"I - I had this dream that I was going bald – my hair's not thinning, is it?" Daniel groggily worried.

"He's definitely his normal self," Betty assured Claire, amused.

"Mom?" Daniel slowly looked over at Claire. "What are you guys doing here? Where am I?" he asked, confused.

"You're at the hospital, sweetheart. You were given the wrong medication and had to have emergency surgery on your brain. The doctors had to shave part of your head. That's probably why you had the dream about being bald," Claire briefly explained, not wanting to say anything too extensive until she felt he could comprehend it.

Daniel paused for a moment, letting everything sink in.

"Medication for what?" he asked.

"For your concussion, babe," Betty answered patiently, stroking his cheek.

Daniel was even more puzzled by the term of endearment, but instantly dismissed his curiosity when he noticed the ring on her finger.

"You got engaged and didn't tell me? It better not be to that greaseball, Henry – or that weasel, Matt! I thought we really connected at Hilda's wedding – decided to stop going backward?" Daniel was agitated and hurt Betty hadn't told him – especially since he was starting to fall for her himself. His head began to hurt in more ways than one.

"I'll leave you two alone for a while," Claire told Betty as she pecked her son on the cheek and headed for the door.

Betty gave her a knowing look and nodded before turning back to Daniel.

"Hey . . . hey . . . calm down. You don't need to worry about anything right now except getting better. Besides, it's okay. I'm engaged to _you_, Silly!" Betty smiled at him, trying to hide how concerned she was about him.

Daniel stared blankly at her. He would remember something like that – he knew he would – it's _Betty_. She was all he could think about recently . . .

"You really don't remember . . . do you?" Betty asked him.

He knew that look – he could see right through her brave face to the pain behind it.

"No," he whispered. _Damn it_ – he was actually with her but he couldn't remember a thing. It was if he'd taken a trip into the future or something. "But if it helps any, I _really_ wish I did . . ." he smiled, flirting with his piercing blue eyes, figuring she obviously knew how he feels about her, so what did he have to lose?

"I-it's okay. I'm just glad you're alright. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you," Betty gave him a bittersweet smile and kissed the top of his hand, trying not to cry.

Daniel pulled her closer to him, inviting her to rest her head on his shoulder. Betty took a deep breath and sighed. Daniel absently played with Betty's intertwined fingers, silently trying to rack his brain for any memory of them as a couple.

Claire and Tyler came back about an hour later to find the two of them fast asleep together. She realized it wouldn't be long before visiting hours were over, but just smiled at them and allowed her son and future daughter-in-law to rest peacefully. The hospital knew they had a potential lawsuit looming over their heads – one slip, such as kicking her and her family out, and she could easily make their lives a living hell.

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Betty woke up with a crick in her neck. She looked down at Daniel, who was still fast asleep. A part of her wanted to wake him - fearing he'd fallen unconscious, that she'd lose him again. The whole thing had been a complete nightmare, and now he didn't even remember their romantic relationship.

She guessed it could be worse – much worse. At least Daniel still seemed to have feelings for her . . . seemed to be intrigued that they were together. Her mind wandered to that embarrassing dream he had. Was Daniel's subconscious still in the present, waiting for his conscious to catch up, or had he really fantasized about her before they were together?

She just wished everything would go back to normal . . . that Daniel was healthy and had his memory back . . . that no one was trying to destroy either of them . . . that the only stress they had was whether their guests would blow bubbles or throw rose petals at their wedding . . . that Amanda wouldn't break out and perform some inappropriate number in the middle of the ceremony . . . Wedding . . . would they ever make it down the aisle? She noticed Daniel beginning to open his eyes.

"Morning . . ." he sleepily said.

"Morning . . . How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Still sore . . . and a little nauseous if I move my head too fast," he answered. "I had another strange dream. You were taking a job in London and I burned my hand when I set fire to your release form - the entire staff was watching me. Then I gave MODE to Wilhelmina and moved to London to be with you. Crazy, right?" he mused.

"Daniel . . ." Betty softly tried to begin, but he didn't even hear her.

"Speaking of work, could you call Wilhelmina for me and tell her what happened? I'm sure she's gonna have a field day when she finds out I'll be out of commission for a while – but just because I'm not at work doesn't mean I can't have work brought to me. Willie did it, right?" he figured, still oblivious.

"Daniel," Betty attempted a little louder.

"Where's my phone? I need to get someone to set things up for me – we've got the anniversary issue coming up and I'm not about to let Willie take credit for it all – " Daniel was so engrossed in his thoughts that he wasn't even paying attention to Betty's efforts.

"Daniel!" Betty yelled.

"What?" he innocently inquired. Betty lowered her voice. "The anniversary issue was months ago. You and I don't work at MODE anymore. You resigned and gave Wilhelmina full control of MODE." she carefully told him.

"So all that stuff in my dream . . . it was true?" he asked, in disbelief.

"Mmmhmm . . . all of it," she informed him.

"Oh my god. Wow! So . . . we're in London? And where do I work now – does anyone there know?" he asked, trying to absorb it all.

"You and I work for B.A.M. – the new magazine Lindsay Dunne put me in charge of. You're the Creative Director. I already called Lindsay and our assistants to let them know what's going on. He told me to tell you to get some rest and not to even think about the magazine for a while." Betty explained.

"So I'm slacking off, taking a lighter load as Creative Director, huh?" he smiled, amazed at how much things had changed.

"Well, I wouldn't call you a slacker. As your boss, I'd say you were a very diligent worker with inventive ideas." she teased. "No. Seriously, Daniel, you're great. And I think since you're not so stressed with all the technical details of running a magazine, you've really been able to put your whole heart into it. I'm proud of you," she smiled.

"So I finally stepped out of my father's shoes and did something I wanted . . . but I obviously didn't have to work my way up for this job either, did I?" he said, ashamed.

"Truthfully, Daniel, you're way over-qualified - even for the position you have now. But that doesn't mean you skirted by because of your father's name. You changed MODE and made it better; you learned so much as EIC and worked so hard. You were never just a figurehead – well except maybe the first month or two – but that's beside the point," she told him.

"You might not have had to get someone their morning coffee and bagel, had a thousand papers shoved at you to collate, got in trouble for not knowing who a designer was, constantly juggled someone's entire week – including their dates and massages, dealt with psycho-girlfriends, or a million other things. But you did gain a lot of experience as EIC and earned your title. So _don't_ for a _second_ think that you don't deserve any position you decide you want." she insisted. Daniel just smiled at her with a goofy grin.

"I love you," he said, the words shockingly rolled so easily off his tongue - even though it was the first time he ever recalled saying it to her in a romantic way.

"What?" Betty was caught off-guard.

"Daniel, you don't have to do that," she told him, thinking it was too easy.

"Do what?" he innocently asked.

"_That_ – push yourself. I know you don't remember us and are still feeling your way around through all that's happened –" she tried to explain.

"I like 'feeling' – you can discover all _kinds_ of interesting things that way . . ." he said with a devilish grin.

"And now, you're just being horny," she gave him an annoyed look, but failed to hide her equal amusement.

He chuckled.

"Look - it's okay not to remember us, not to feel for me what I feel for you. I want it to come naturally – not be something you think you're obligated to say," she assured him.

"I know, and I am – saying what comes naturally. I honestly have wanted to tell you I loved you since your sister's speech at her wedding. Her words just reaffirmed what I already knew I had been feeling for a long time . . . feelings that had slowly been building for years," he shyly smiled.

"And just now, listening to you give me one of your famous pep-talks . . . getting so worked-up about me being down on myself again . . . You're so cute . . . so passionate . . . it just came out. And it felt easy – no pressure, because I wasn't worried about how you felt. It was like I'd already said it a thousand times before," Daniel confessed. ". . . Which is probably 'cause I have . . ." he looked at Betty, sheepishly.

She smiled and nodded, taking his hand.

"Okay . . . we're in London, we're engaged . . . Do we live together? Have we . . . you know?" he coyly asks.

"You just don't stop, do you?" she flirted.

"What? They're legitimate questions . . ." he feigned innocence.

". . . Yes . . . and yes . . ." she slowly said. "Wow . . . How can I not _remember_ something like that?" he wondered in disbelief.

"I don't know – you tell me . . . Speaking of which – I'm not too happy with you!" she gave him a look.

"What? What'd I do?" he asked.

"Um, well yesterday you kinda muttered my name and 'panties' in your sleep, while your mother was in the room . . ." she cringed.

"I did? God, Betty, I'm so sorry! . . . But then again, you look so cute when you're mortified . . ." his eyes twinkled.

"_Daniel!_ It wasn't funny!" she glared at him. "How long have you been having these fantasies, anyway? . . . Is that why half the staff started whispering and giggling, saying 'Way to go Betty!', after the last time you fell asleep during a financial meeting at MODE?" Betty's eyes widened, realizing the connection.

"They did?" Daniel's face dropped in shock. "_That_ explains all the winks, jabs, and pats on the back I got afterwards . . . I thought they were impressed with my presentation . . . Ok. Okay. Sorry – I'm really sorry!" he laughed.

Betty grumbled and pouted.

Daniel chuckled.

"Sooo . . . how did I wind up in the hospital? You mentioned something about a concussion?" he inquired.

Betty took a deep breath and sighed.

"It's a long and complicated story – are you sure you're up for it?" she warily asked.

"Obviously, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, and I've slept more in the past day than I ever have before so . . . yeah, I am," he smiled.

She leaned back in her chair, and proceeded to tell him everything.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Betty contentedly watched Daniel sleep. She had just told him the entire story, and he had been exhausted from hearing all the details.

Claire opened the door and quietly walked across the room, noticing her sleeping son.

"Here, I thought you could you some of this," she handed Betty a cup of coffee.

"Thank you," Betty took it.

"How's he doing?" Claire asked.

"Pretty good – other than he doesn't remember anything after Hilda's wedding . . ." Betty looked down at the floor, discouraged.

"Sweetheart, I know it's upsetting and I'm concerned too, but the doctor did warn us something like this might happen. What you have to keep in mind is that it won't be long before Daniel will have his entire memory back. We just have to keep positive and try to help him out as best as we can," Claire tried to comfort Betty.

Betty nodded.

"Have you heard anything more about Matt yet?" she asked, knowing Claire had contacted the police before she had returned to the waiting room last night.

"Not yet – the police put an APB out on him, but no luck yet. Tyler has offered his assistance, though. He thinks he might be able to lure Matt to an undercover cop. He's at the police station working out the details with the officers right now," Claire answered.

"Good. I can't believe I ever saw anything in that guy. Looking back, he just went from one obsession to another. Unfortunately, his last one ended up hurting Daniel. I should've listened to him when he begged me not to hire Matt. But I didn't think it'd be a problem, since he wouldn't even be in the country most of the time. It's all my fault . . ." Betty started to cry.

"Betty, it isn't your fault at all. Regardless of whether you hired him or not, Matt would have found a way to get to you. He had it in his mind that he wanted you back and it's obvious that he would go to any lengths to obtain his goal. You couldn't have had any idea that Matt would be this destructive. True, he had always been a flake and the jealous type, but he still appeared to be a good man. I know you wouldn't have dated him, had he not been," Claire comforted her.

"And while he and my son did not see eye to eye, he _was_ kind enough to help get Daniel out of that damned cult. However, I'm sure Matt only did it as a favor to you – not to my son. Honestly, I feel most of their animosity and their civilities toward each other revolved around you. The other was probably from their similar backgrounds," she observed.

"I do remember having to play referee with them a lot," Betty shook her head. "I just hate that it had to end up like this - and that your other son ended up being involved. I'm glad that Tyler's trying to help make things right – it's just sad that he has to go from being at odds with one brother to the other. I – I don't think I'm ready to forgive Tyler. But I can understand why he felt the need to team up with Matt," Betty carefully said.

"It's quite alright, Betty. I'm not exonerating my son by any means. I'm just proud of him for realizing his mistakes and trying to make amends. I would completely understand if you and Daniel never forgave him. However, the mother in me wishes all of my family would soon be able to get along with each other," Claire admitted.

Betty put her hand on Claire's and smiled with empathy.

"Did Alexis and DJ ever get a flight?" she asked.

"Yes, they got in last night, but you and Daniel had fallen asleep so I suggested they get some rest themselves and come visit him today," Claire explained. Her phone started vibrating. "Oh – I'd better take this. It might be Tyler with some news," she stepped outside.

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"Betty . . ." Daniel groggily called.

"What is it, baby?" she asked.

"My throat's dry. Could you see if they have any apple juice? Oh – and maybe some pudding? But not that bread pudding crap – we had that at that restaurant in Kensington and it was awful. Think they have banana?" he wondered.

"Sure, sweetie – I'll go ask at the nurses' station - wait – did you just mention us eating in London?" she paused.

"Yeah . . . I don't think we could've survived all these months without food . . ." he looked at her skeptically, not grasping it.

"Daniel, you remembered something!" Betty squealed.

"Hey, I guess I did!" he smiled.

"Is there anything else you remember about London?" she hopefully inquired.

"You bought us our dream home for my birthday . . . your family saw me in nothing but a towel . . ." he recalled.

She beamed, tears of joy brimming in her eyes.

He slowly moved over on the bed, making room for her, and started to pull her next to him.

"Daniel . . . Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you . . ." Betty was hesitant.

"It's okay," he assured her.

She carefully settled herself beside him, and they laid there in silence for a while. Daniel broke the silence with another memory.

". . . We spontaneously made love for the first time in my hotel room – I wanted it to be perfect, kept planning all these romantic set-ups; work always got in the way. But just being with you, being that close, holding you through the night – it couldn't have been any more perfect," Daniel smiled lovingly at her.

"I agree," Betty says, stroking his jaw line. "I love you so much – I'm so glad I have all of you back," she beamed.

He chuckled.

"Me, too," he gingerly kissed her lips, aware of his own being busted-up, then furrowed his brow.

"What?" Betty asked.

"Could you get me that juice now?" he meekly requested.

"_Daniel!_" she protested.

"What? I'm still thirsty," he defended himself.

"Fine. But only because I don't want you to dehydrate," she grumbled.

"Thank you . . ." he kissed her temple.

She slowly got out of the bed and walked toward the door.

"Hey, babe? Don't forget the pudding . . ." he reminded her.

"You really are a pampered prince," she shook her head in amusement and left. He was definitely back . . .

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Betty ran into a distraught Claire on her way back from getting Daniel's food.

"Claire – is something wrong? Was that Tyler on the phone?" she asked, concerned.

"No, it was Wilhelmina. Apparently there's been a crisis at Mode. She went on vacation with Connor, after having dropped the book off with the printer; making sure the issues would be shipped immediately afterwards. However, someone managed to switch the book out, and instead of our new holiday issue, the holiday issue from '86 was re-printed and shipped out. I don't know what we're going to do," Claire sighed.

Betty's face dropped.

"Who would do something like that?" Betty wondered.

"I don't know, Betty. I don't know. But more importantly, right now, is what are Wilhelmina and I going to do to cover our asses and keep MODE afloat," Claire pointed out. "I'm sorry, dear. I shouldn't be burdening you with my business problems. You have your own magazine to run, now," Claire apologized.

"No, it's okay – really. I'd be happy to help you think of a solution. MODE was a big part of my life for four years. Working there changed me in so many ways; I met Daniel and so many other great people and learned so much, have so many great memories there. I wouldn't be EIC of my own magazine if it weren't for the experience I gained at MODE. And it's part of Daniel's legacy, so I wouldn't want to see anything happen to it," Betty assured her.

"Thank you, Betty. After just coming out of one crisis, I could use all the help I can get on this one," Claire admitted, gratefully.

Betty smiled.

"I've got to get this to Daniel. Maybe he can give you some insight?" Betty suggested.

Claire nodded in agreement.

"I don't want to tire him out, but he might be able to help a little. Is he doing any better?" Claire inquired.

"Oh – I forgot to tell you with all the MODE talk. He has his memory back!" Betty squealed with excitement.

"Oh, Betty, that's wonderful! I was so worried about him! At least something is going right in the world," Claire hugged her.

They both went inside the room, grateful to have him doing so well.

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The woman stared at MODE's shipped issue.

"No one does it better . . ." she marveled, with an evil laugh.


	14. Chapter 14

_Hi! Thank you so much for the comments! So sorry it's taken me so long to update this. Had a case of writer's block, along with being extremely busy. Here's an extra long chapter to make up for it. Enjoy! :)_

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"That was a brilliant idea you two had!" Claire raved about Daniel and Betty's last minute fix to repair the disaster at MODE.

She held up the current issue, showcasing a recycled paper cover attached to the real one with the words 'Fabulous Holidays Then & Now: 1986 & 2010' across its front with pictures of the old and current covers on it.

"It still ended up costing us a bundle, especially with having to add an extra feature article and shipping out two issues for the price of one. But at least we didn't look like total asses. You two are my saving graces. I'm so proud of you both for pursuing your own dreams, but MODE will never be the same without you. And believe it or not, Wilhelmina was surprisingly grateful for your quick thinking. I think she even misses you sometimes," she continued.

"Yeah, misses taunting me and Betty and trying to undermine my authority – she probably has no idea what to do with herself now," Daniel scoffed, casually putting his arm around Betty.

She rested her head on his shoulder.

"I don't know, Daniel. She softened a little after she came out of her coma. Marc claimed she even promised him she would stop scheming – which is huge for her! And she actually wished me well at my party, giving me a compliment - in her own way," Betty pointed out, looking up at him.

"I'll have to agree with Betty. Wilhelmina's demeanor is a lot less rigid. She's by far no angel, but I believe being shot was a turning point in her life. And it doesn't hurt that she now has the one thing she's wanted all along – MODE," Claire added.

"I guess you're right. I'll just never forget how horrible she's treated our family," he added, rubbing Betty's leg to let her know she was included. "Promise you won't get snowed by her recent change in attitude. I still wouldn't fully trust her," Daniel replied.

"Darling, I've had decades more experience. I can spot a wolf in sheep's clothing from miles away. You have nothing to worry about," Claire assured her son. "What I am concerned about is finding out who caused this catastrophe. That wretched excuse for a woman is dead and Wilhelmina would never sabotage her own baby . . ." Claire pondered.

"I'm not sure, Mom . . . Does Wilhelmina have any enemies – never mind – that was a stupid question. Is there anyone who recently contacted her or who she's seriously fought with?" Daniel rephrased his question.

"Not that she can think of. And I haven't had any problems with anyone either," Claire responded.

"Did Fey have any relatives, other than Amanda, who might hold a grudge?" Betty inquired.

"Not that I know of. She never married, her parents died years ago, and she didn't have any siblings that I can recall," she answered. "I'm at a loss as to who would do this. I would consider it an accident, however that particular issue has too much meaning for it not to have been an intentional stab at our family and the company," Claire frowned.

They all tried to rack their minds as to who could have done it, but were unsuccessful. Betty's mind wandered to the reason they were sitting in the cold, sterile room.

"Did you hear anything more from Tyler?" she asked hesitantly, knowing it was a touchy subject.

"Yes. He helped the detectives find Matt, who is now being held in custody. For his cooperation, Tyler made a deal with the DA and will only have to do some community service," Claire replied, carefully watching Daniel as she spoke.

"He drugged Betty and almost raped her and he's getting off that easy? What the hell? That bastard should rot in jail right along with that snot-nosed son of a bitch! This is _bullsh-_" Daniel exploded.

"Daniel . . . your mother!" she quietly pleaded for him to stop, putting her hand on his forearm.

He looked at her and knew he needed to calm down.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I just don't think it's right for Tyler to basically be set free with no more than a slap on the wrist after all the pain he's caused – even if he is your son," he apologized to Claire.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I understand your anger and I don't blame you. What he did was dreadfully wrong. I'm disappointed that he felt the need to choose one brother over the other and would go to such lengths to please him. However, I will say you never really helped matters much; trying to buy him off and being resentful of him. Not that that excuses his reprehensible behavior. I just hope you don't fault me for still loving all of my children, unconditionally," Claire told him.

"I'm proud of Tyler for turning himself in and offering his assistance. At least I know he still realizes right from wrong and is taking responsibility for his actions. It's difficult to see your children go to jail, so forgive me if I'm grateful that he isn't," she continued to explain.

Daniel nodded, remembering when he and Alexis both were facing jail time for the attempted murder of Christina and she ended up serving it. There was silence for a while.

"Well, I think I'll leave you two alone. Betty, why don't we meet at your apartment tomorrow morning, so we can all plan how to celebrate Thanksgiving? Besides, I'm sure you'll want another chance to freshen up in a respectable bathroom," Claire suggested.

"I'll be there," Betty smiled.

After Claire left, she curled up, resting her head on Daniel's chest, content with simply listening to the beating of his heart.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Daniel couldn't take his mind off of the news about Tyler. How the hell could the cops have given him such an easy punishment? And why did his mother still want anything to do with him? This guy had caused pain to her other son and to a woman she'd come to treat like a daughter – who cared if he was her son? He looked down at Betty, so sweet and peaceful.

To think he might not have been here or that she might not have taken him back – all because of his half-brother and her ex – made his blood boil. But then he glanced back at Betty and felt calmer already. He was alive and had her in his arms and that was all that mattered right then. He could deal with the rest later. He just wondered how she was coping with the recent information.

"So you never really said how you felt about all this . . . I mean, you were the real victim – I was just collateral damage when all else failed," Daniel broached the subject again.

Betty paused.

"I don't know . . . Of course I'm upset – I'm beyond pissed at Matt," she felt her anger rising. "He tried to _kill_ you, just to get me to come back to him! I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive him. It keeps me up at night thinking about how I fell for him and then he turned out like this. _God!_ What if I had stayed with him? And then I _hired_ him . . ." she shuddered. He rubbed her shoulder.

"Hey, you couldn't have known. Sure, I didn't want him around, but it's not like I had a premonition or anything. I just never really liked the guy. I only tolerated him for your sake. To be honest, I never really felt any of the guys you dated truly deserved you," Daniel admitted. "But then sometimes I think I don't deserve you either . . ." he added.

"Daniel, why would you ever think that? Yeah, you were a jerk to me in the beginning and we've had our differences. But you were always there for me - whether it was to protect me from making a mistake or to dry my tears when I didn't listen and it turned out just like you warned me it would. You sacrificed your job and your reputation every time you stood up for me at MODE," Betty pointed out.

"You supported me every time I moved closer to achieving the career of my dreams – well, except for this one; but even then you loved me enough to let me go in the end. And you moved across an ocean to be with me; giving up your job and your family. Whenever my family was in trouble, you went above and beyond to help us," she added.

"And you love me for me. Don't ever believe you aren't good enough – because it isn't true! You make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world to be with you," she assured him, caressing his jaw line then bringing him into a tender kiss.

"You know I feel that way about you, too. I guess I still feel so guilty for not trusting you. Everything that I said to you . . . the way I treated you . . . you didn't deserve any of it. I want you to still feel like you can tell me anything and know that I'll believe and love you no matter what - because I will," Daniel vowed.

"If anything good has come out of this mess it's that I've realized I can't allow my past fears to take over. I have to learn to let go, to fully trust or I'll end up losing the people who matter most in my life," he admitted.

"And that's part of what being in love is about – taking the risk of trusting and caring for someone so completely, letting go of your fears," Betty said.

"Well I have no doubt been in love with you for a long time, but I want to make sure you never feel any pain on my account again," he replied.

"That's so sweet, but don't feel like you have to be perfect around me – that won't do either of us any good. Besides, I love you, flaws and all. We're both going to make mistakes along the way, we just need to continue to work any problems out and forgive each other when they happen. So could you do me a favor?" she asked.

"Anything, baby," he said.

"Could we put everything behind us and just concentrate on our future?" she requested.

"Promise . . . just one more thing before we do, though. You never said how you felt about Tyler's lack of a punishment?" he inquired.

Betty sighed.

"I guess I'm kind of torn. I mean, part of me wishes he and Matt had a permanent jail cell together. He did his best to tear us apart. He drugged me and made me believe he was you. I could easily have slept with him, had he let it get that far. But the other part of me feels Tyler's learned his lesson," she began.

"He did confess on his own and offered any assistance he could to find Matt. He helped to turn his own brother in. Plus, like it or not, he's your brother, too. I think he wanted so badly to be accepted by his biological families that when you more or less bought him off, he was willing to do anything for Matt because at least he didn't treat him like a gold-digger," she considered.

"And I don't think he cared anything about the money – remember that it was your mother who went to find him, not the other way around. I feel so bad for her – she's caught between her two sons," she paused, hesitantly.

"I can see why deep down, she wishes you both could get along. It would be nice if you could embrace having a little brother, instead of resenting him for not knowing he existed. That wasn't his fault and it's not like he knew you or Alexis or Matt existed either," she reasoned.

"What makes it harder is how far he went to in order to get attention. It's going to take a lot to forgive what he did to both of us. But in time, I'd be willing to try; simply because he is a part of your family and in the end he tried to do the right thing," she confessed, expecting an earful from Daniel.

"You're probably right. I just think it'll be a long time - if ever - before I'm ready to take that step. Just thinking about him makes me want to beat the crap out of him again," he answered, his fist clenched.

Betty was surprised his reaction wasn't worse - that he wasn't upset with her for attempting to see both sides.

"It's okay. Just don't actually do it - you're still recovering from the last time," she pleaded, rubbing his chest.

"I won't," he promised, kissing her forehead and calming down.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving! I'm so glad I don't have to eat that nasty hospital food for Thanksgiving. When are Alexis and DJ getting back with the food? I know it probably took them a while to find a place that served stuff like that, but it's been two hours –" Daniel complained.

"Oh stop your whining, Baby Brother; we've got your precious food!" Alexis teased as she and DJ came in with bags of food and began unloading them.

"Wait a minute . . . what restaurant gives away Tupperware containers?" Daniel asked, puzzled.

"Bistro de Meade-Suarez," Alexis answered.

"You guys did this? Wow! This is amazing . . . Uh-oh – Mom, I hope you did all the cooking and Alexis and Betty just bagged it up and bought dessert," Daniel joked. "No offense, baby, but you once substituted ketchup for chili powder," he pointed out, noticing from the corner of his eye that Betty was shooting daggers at him.

"How did you - ?" Betty asked, her face turning red.

"Your dad told me," he explained, chuckling. "Besides, it's not like I haven't witnessed some of your culinary disasters before. Remember the extremely fried rice with eggshells stuck in it? Oh – and you didn't have soy sauce so you used Tabasco," Daniel laughed.

Betty continued to glare at him.

"Watch it, Danny Boy - Betty and I can both kick your scrawny little ass any day of the week! And besides, Mom gave us some lessons. We ended up making most of it ourselves and I'll bet you 100 bucks it's great," Alexis wagered.

Claire smiled and nodded.

"Eat up, Meade! I'm betting a week of cleaning our apartment - once you're healed, of course," Betty added.

"Looks like you have a challenge on your hands. I'd keep up your strength, if I were you, Son. All that cleaning can tire a person out," Claire joined in on the fun.

"Mom! You, too, huh?" Daniel feigned betrayal. "I guess you're ganging up on me, too, man?" he looked at DJ.

"I made the macaroni avec fromage and the salad," DJ smiled. Daniel groaned.

"What the hell? Chances are I'll be $100 richer and a week more relaxed . . . I wonder if there's a costume shop that has one of those sexy little maids' outfits . . .?" he playfully pondered, sinfully staring at Betty.

"_Daniel!_" she warned him, mortified.

He smirked, getting the exact reaction he was looking for.

"Okay . . . at least if I get food poisoning I'm already in the right place . . ." he joked.

Betty playfully smacked his arm.

"Just shut up and take a bite!" she insisted as she handed him a plate.

Daniel swallowed and made a strange face.

"Holy crap!" he exclaimed. Everyone believed he didn't like it, but awaited a more comprehensive response. " . . . This is actually good!" he grinned, enjoying messing with them.

They all playfully attacked him.

"Hey! Hey! Ow! Easy! I'm already incapacitated!" Daniel laughed, fighting them off. "Okay! I was wrong and I sincerely apologize. This is great, you guys . . . Thank you!" he said, seriously.

"This is one of the best family Thanksgivings I've had in a long time . . . Maybe I should get sick more often . . . gifts, flowers, attention, waited on hand and foot . . . I could get used to this . . ." he teased. They all jumped on him again and started bickering. "Stop! It was just a suggestion . . ." he laughed, feigning innocence.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

After their dinner, everyone decided to go back to the hotel to rest from the overload of food. Betty stayed with Daniel and was relaxing beside him.

"Thank you for today," he said.

"It was your mom's idea. You know I can't cook, but she insisted that Alexis and I learn how to make something. She couldn't believe I was that bad when my father's a chef," Betty mused, her arm resting on Daniel's stomach.

"That part was great, but I was really just referring to spending time with my entire family on a holiday, without some sort of crisis occurring. You fit right in – and I mean that in a good way," he told her.

"Thank you. I wish my family could have been here, too. But none of them could get off of work the next day. They did mention coming back for Christmas, though," she replied.

"Good," he smiled.

They laid in silence for a while, both a little sleepy from all the turkey.

"Do you remember that night at your sister's wedding?" Daniel asked.

"How could I forget? You couldn't stop staring or smiling at me the whole time. I couldn't tell whether you were checking me out or if I had something stuck in my teeth," Betty laughed.

"I was checking you out - believe me," he assured her.

"I remember our last dance – I had just gotten off the phone with Lindsay . . ." she recalled.

Their minds flashed back . . .

"_Hey, there you are. I thought I'd lost you. Is everything okay – you didn't accidentally drop Hilda's dress in the toilet, did you?" Daniel asked, concerned. _

_"No – Hilda's over there talking to some of our relatives," she laughed. _

_"So you're good?" he asked, wondering why he found her standing alone, clutching her cell phone._

_"Yeah. Great!" she said, a little too perkily, as they walked back over to the dance floor. _

_Daniel was too high on champagne, Hilda's speech and the romantic atmosphere to notice any different. _

_"Good. Because I put in a last request . . ." he said, taking her hand as Sonny & Cher's 'I Got You, Babe' began to play. _

_Betty beamed and put her arms around Daniel's neck. He held onto her waist and she pulled him close, resting her head on his chest. _

_"I can't believe you still remember," she said. _

_"I'll never forget that night – it was actually one of the best all-night dates I've had," he confessed._

_"Date? Don't let Hilda hear you say that or I'll never live it down. She never shut up about it once I got home that morning," she laughed. _

_He chuckled. _

_". . . They say we're young and we don't know . . . We won't find out untiiiillll we grow . . . Well I don't know if all that's true . . . 'Cause you got me and baabbby I got you . . . Babe. I got you, babe," Daniel quietly sang to her as they danced. _

"_I got you, babe," Betty joined in on the last line of the chorus, looking up at his entrancing blue eyes with a bittersweet smile and trying not to cry. _

_But she wouldn't have him for much longer. She would soon lose her best friend, the man who she was starting to see as something more. How was she going to tell him? She couldn't bear the thought of breaking his heart. It broke her own, thinking about it. _

_"Is something wrong?" he noticed a small sadness in her warm chocolate eyes. _

_He wondered if he had gotten excessively romantic by singing to her like that. Maybe it was too weird for her and she couldn't tell him. _

_Betty answered by shaking her head and smiling. Not tonight, she thought. Tonight was about happiness and fun . . . making every special moment they had left count. _

_"No, it's just the wedding and this song . . . I'm a little nostalgic," she covered, blinking back tears. _

_"Me, too," he sighed, tenderly kissed her forehead, then rested his head on top of hers as they continued to sway to the music. _

_Betty was a little surprised by the kiss, but considered their moods, new-found closeness the past few months - the fact that they were technically on a date - and tried to savor the moment while it lasted. She clung to Daniel as tight as she could, afraid to let go, knowing she soon would have to . . ._

"What made you think of it?" Betty asked.

"I don't know. Considering the holiday, I thought about how thankful I am to be alive . . . to be able to hold you in my arms. And that night changed my whole perspective of our relationship. I'll never forget it," he explained.

"Me neither. And I am definitely thankful to have you," she smiled and noticed the opened brown shipping box on the nightstand.

"What's that?" she pointed to it.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Your dad sent me some of his famous cupcakes, all the way from Queens. They arrived this morning, while you and my family were still taking care of the food," he smiled.

"Good old Papi . . . Hey! You've been holding out on me. Hand 'em over!" she playfully demanded.

He took one out of the box and fed a bite to her.

"Mmmmm . . . I'd forgotten how good these are!" she moaned, taking the cupcake and feeding a bite to him. She started to giggle.

"What?" he asked.

"You've got some icing on your nose," she answered as she kissed it off.

"Guess it's good practice for our wedding, right?" he grinned and kissed her sugary lips.

"Right," she grinned.

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A few days later, Daniel was cleared to leave the hospital. His family had left the previous evening to return to work and school.

"How can you watch this crap? I need to get back to work again just so I'm not forced to watch anymore of these ridiculous Spanish soaps," he light-heartedly complained, while lying on the couch with his head on Betty's lap.

"_Telenovelas._ I don't know why you can't get into them – my father loves them," she replied.

"They're just ridiculous – sleeping with one woman and then banging another the next minute – and practically everyone's related or has slept with each other at one time or another . . ." he explained.

"Sex, musical beds, romance, passion, lies, betrayal – isn't that basically your whole life history in a nutshell?" she skeptically said.

". . . I guess you're right . . . But they make it so overdramatic and unbelievable – not to mention I can't understand a freakin' thing they say," Daniel answered.

Betty laughed.

"I get tired of them too after a while – but sometimes they're a great escape from reality," she admitted, stroking his head. "Your hair's starting to grow back – I think it'll be the perfect length by the wedding. And your scars will probably have faded by then," she absently commented.

"Good. 'Cause I don't want you to have to marry a guy who looks like a combination of one of the Three Stooges and Frankenstein – all I need are the deadbolts screwed into the sides of my head. I feel like a moron right now," he sighed in frustration, rolling on his back.

"_Aww . . ._ Baby, I don't care what you look like – I'm in love with _you_ and I'm marrying _you_ – not your hair. You're a smart, sweet, caring, sexy man who can always make me laugh – even in the worst situations," she smiled.

He took her hand and kissed it, then held it to his heart.

"Besides, this works both ways. I was a mess when you first met me, but you accepted me for who I was. You saw past my furry eyebrows, frizzy hair, braces, and baggy mismatched clothes. You loved me for me, even though I was ugly on the outside," she reminded him.

"You were never ugly, babe. I could see the beauty in you after I stopped being so shallow and opened my eyes. I meant what I said on the bridge that night – you're better than any model - always have been," he corrected her.

Betty shyly smiled.

"So you'd marry me even if I wore my poncho?" she teased.

"In a heartbeat - but I'd get to wear that sombrero you gave me," he chuckled.

"I'm holding you to it – cancel the Plaza - we're getting married in a tiny village in Mexico with a couple of donkeys as our witnesses!" she joked.

"I love you . . ." Daniel grinned.

Betty leaned down and cupped his face in her hands, slowly parting his lips in a tender kiss. Daniel deepened the kiss and without breaking, sat up and maneuvered himself on top of Betty, at the other end of couch. He began unbuttoning her blouse from the bottom up, making a trail from her belly to her breasts, then crashed into her lips, sliding his tongue into the warmth of her mouth. Betty ran her hands over his back, about to remove his shirt, when she remembered.

"Mmmm . . . Baby . . . we can't . . . mmmm . . . no strenuous . . . mmmm . . . physical activity . . . for another . . . mmmm . . . week . . ." she muttered between kisses.

Meanwhile, Daniel had managed to halfway remove her jeans.

"Betty, do you realize how long it's been?" he responded, his breath erratic, piercing blue eyes looking at her desperately.

"I know Daniel – _believe me_ - I know. But I just got you back. I don't want to lose you again just because we can't keep our hands off each other," she gently pushed him off of her and stood up, pulling her jeans back on and buttoning her blouse. "Come on, we're going out to a museum or something. Oh, and later, we can find a contractor for our house," she insisted, pulling him off the couch.

"You know, I can keep my hands off you and still –" he teased.

"Don't you _dare_ finish that sentence! Let's go!" Betty warned and handed him his coat.

Daniel gave her a boyish grin and pecked her cheek, then grabbed her ass.

She swatted his hand away.

"Daniel, please don't start in again . . . Let's just go," she pleaded.

"Fine . . . I wonder if they have any clothing museums here?" he asked, while putting on his coat.

"Ugh! We've been over this with you 1,000 times – clothing museums never existed!" she answered in frustration.

"You and Alexis are just messing with me. We went to them all the time when we were kids – I swear!" Daniel insisted.

"No we're not! Your _mother_ was messing with you. They were department stores!" she exclaimed.

"I don't think so," he still didn't believe it.

"Were there price tags on everything? Were there sales people at registers and counters with ladies getting their makeup done?" she asked.

"Yeah . . . but mom said they were just actors pretending to recreate the history of shopping . . . Oh my god – you're right!" it finally had sunk in. Betty burst out laughing.

"Shut up!" he grumbled.

"Come on – I can think of a couple _real_ museums that'll be just as fun and definitely more educational," she dragged him out the door.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"That _was_ fun – _I told you there was a clothing museum!_" he grinned with satisfaction, holding up the brochure from the Fashion and Textile Museum.

"Yeah, well I wouldn't get too cocky, if I were you. I guarantee from what you and Alexis have told me that you've never set foot in anything but a department store," she playfully fired back.

Daniel grumbled in defeat.

"The Sherlock Holmes Museum was awesome too, but I don't think the Hard Rock Café really counts," he smiled as he and Betty walked along the sidewalk, only a few buildings from their flat.

"True, but there was still some really cool memorabilia there that they don't have in New York and it worked for lunch. Oh, I got you something," she remembered as she rustled through the bag of souvenirs for her family, including a fitted t-shirt for herself, and held out a flat plastic container.

"What's this?" Daniel asked, taking it and looking at the Fender picks.

"Just something I thought you could use if you ever take your guitar out of hiding," Betty nudged him.

"Ow! What was that for?" he protested.

"Why didn't you tell me you played?" she asked.

"I don't know. I'm not that good – I just started a band with a couple of guys from high school. We didn't last long – just tried it for the girls. Molly didn't tell you, did she?" he wondered.

"No, your mom showed me some pictures. But now I really feel left out – after all the karaoke bars we went to and you never uttered a word that you could sing and play for real? You owe me a song, Meade!" she playfully demanded, tugging at the front of his shirt as they stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.

"I don't have it," he told her.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"The guitar - I brought it on the plane with the rest of my stuff that was checked-in and it got destroyed.

"I'm sorry, baby," she said.

"It's okay. And I can still display these with my collection of concert tickets once we get our house finished," he said, quickly kissing her lips before they continued walking.

"Thank you. I also have something for you," he reached into his bag, having gotten a couple of things for DJ and a t-shirt for himself. "I thought your battered graduation bunny could use a friend," he smiled and handed her a Hard Rock teddy bear.

"Aww . . . he's so cute! Thank you!" Betty hugged him on the step before they went inside the building.

"Mom called while you were checking out. She said she made it in okay and that she'd email us a list of reputable contractors, here. It'd be nice if we could have everything finished before the wedding," Daniel commented.

"Good. Definitely! But you need to get some rest when we get in. I hope you didn't over-do it," she worried.

"I'm fine," he insisted, trying to fight back a yawn.

"Oh! And I need to call Charlotte and see if those proofs for the next cover came in and what time our advertisers are coming in tomorrow," Betty remembered.

"I'm glad the holiday issue with Simon Cowell's exclusive interview, after starting his new show, is getting such a great response. You'd never know what a caring and generous guy he is from watching Idol," he commented.

"Yeah, he really is a nice guy, from interviewing him. And he's inspired so many people to pursue their dreams. That's not even mentioning all the charity work he's done," Betty agreed.

Daniel nodded.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you that Amanda actually convinced him to wear one of her designs instead of his signature black t-shirt. But then she ruined the moment by insisting on auditioning for him with a horrible version of Leona Lewis' 'Bleeding Love'," she laughed.

"Really?" Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. ". . . _Man!_ I can't wait to get back to work again!" he exclaimed.

Betty snickered.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. It's just a few years ago you would've been basking in all the free time you had, without a care in the world," she mused. "I'm proud of you," she smiled.

He grinned sheepishly.

They happily stared at each other, holding hands, unaware of the man sitting outside their door until he spoke.

"Hi," he hesitantly said, standing up.

"Tyler!" they both exclaimed in unison.


	15. Chapter 15

_Sorry! I know I haven't posted a new chapter in almost two months, but after writer's block and lack of time, here it is. It's a short one, but I had to divide it up and nowhere else made sense. Two more chapters are already in the works. Enjoy! :)_

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"You little punk-ass bastard! How dare you show your face here? Is loitering your new hobby now?" Daniel shouted.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come here," Tyler said, rethinking his actions.

"Damn right you shouldn't have! Get the hell out!" Daniel lunged toward him, but Betty put a hand on his chest and pushed him back.

"Daniel, stop! _Please!_ Let's just let him say what he came to say," she pleaded.

He took one look in her desperate eyes and backed off.

She walked toward the door of their apartment and unlocked it, placing her souvenir bag on the small table.

"Tyler, why don't you go inside? Have a seat," Betty civilly offered.

"Thank you," he said, going in the apartment. Betty shut the door behind him.

"_Betty!_ What the hell are you doing?" Daniel exclaimed.

She sighed, taking his hands.

"Look, he obviously came here for a reason. And he doesn't seem like he's here to antagonize us. So please, let's see what this is about without causing any more trips to the hospital, okay?" she discreetly begged him, knowing they'd already produced enough disturbance in the hallway as it was.

He looked at her stubbornly.

"For your sake? For your mom's sake? If anything else, for mine? This stress isn't doing any of us any good," she reasoned with him.

"Fine. But if he so much as _looks_ at you the wrong way . . ." he reluctantly agreed.

"Thank you," she rubbed his back and gently pushed him towards the door.

"You've got five minutes – start talking!" Daniel snapped at Tyler as he slammed his bag on the floor and sat on the opposite side of the couch.

"_Daniel . . .!_" Betty reminded him, sitting closely beside him. Daniel sighed.

"Fine. What do you want?" he asked.

"I just wanted to formally apologize to you. I didn't think it was the right time while you were still in the hospital, but I thought since you were out . . . so here I am," Tyler explained.

"Oh. Well that's nice of you, Tyler," Betty politely told him.

"What . . . possessed you to do this?" Daniel asked, trying to control his anger.

"I uh - I know. It was wrong and stupid and vindictive . . . I know 'sorry' isn't gonna cut it, but I _am_ sorry. I just . . . I wanted to fit in, be a part of the family – I've never had a brother," Tyler looked down at the floor, embarrassed.

"Obviously . . ." Daniel inaudibly scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"But you refused to speak to me, and when you did, you tried to buy me off like I only came to New York for the money. You wouldn't even let go of Amanda when you didn't even care about her that way. And when you did, it was like I was given your 'permission' to be with her. I realized you weren't going to change. And Amanda had mentioned Matt, when we were still together," Tyler went on.

"After I found out Cal Hartley was my father, I put the pieces together and contacted Matt. He seemed like such a nice guy, and at the time, I just wanted to know what it was like to have a brother – share that bond. So I went along with his plan and figured I could get back at you at the same time," Tyler elaborated.

". . . So Matt wanted Betty and you wanted me dead because I didn't accept you as my brother?" Daniel carefully spoke. He already knew the gist of things, but he wanted to hear everything from Tyler's mouth.

"_No!_ No - not at all! When Matt suggested switching the prescriptions I told him I was out. All I wanted was for you to lose Betty like you caused me to lose Amanda – feel some sort of pain - because you obviously didn't care whether you knew _me_ or not," Tyler insisted.

"I – I uh . . . guess I believe you," Daniel told him.

Betty gave him a look and nudged him. She hadn't forgiven Tyler for what he did, but still felt Daniel shouldn't have acted so immature and jealous about him when he first came to New York.

"What?" Daniel looked back innocently at Betty.

She gave him another look.

"Fine," he grumbled and turned back to Tyler. ". . . And . . . I'm sorry I wasn't that welcoming when you came to New York," Daniel paused.

"I shouldn't have made a big deal about Amanda either. I wasn't really into her and you were - as much as she was with you. I was being possessive and it wasn't fair," he reluctantly apologized.

"It's okay. I can now understand how me coming in out of nowhere and stepping all over your territory would make you feel. I didn't ever mean it that way, but I get how you saw it like that," Tyler replied.

Daniel cleared his throat.

"Um, yeah . . . kinda," he admitted.

"I'm glad we could talk. I know it'll take some time – probably a lot - but I was hoping we could eventually get to know each other better. I know you won't believe me when I say this, but I'm not normally a bad guy," Tyler confessed.

". . . That's something to consider," Betty slowly said, then looked cautiously at Daniel, knowing he was more than likely holding back a snide remark.

"We want to thank you for helping to find Matt. We feel safer knowing he's in police custody," she added.

"And we'd feel _a lot_ safer if you were, too," Daniel couldn't contain himself.

An awkward silence filled the room.

"Tyler . . ." Betty tried to smooth things over.

"No - Daniel has every right to think that. And so do you," Tyler stopped her.

"I know it was a long shot to even get you guys to talk to me again. I don't expect you to instantly forgive me – or forgive me at all. I'm hoping for someday, but I realize you might not – ever. I just wanted to officially apologize to both of you. I'll leave you alone now. Sorry for taking up your time," he continued, getting up and walking toward the door.

"Thank you, Tyler," Betty followed him, showing him out.

Daniel brooded silently on the couch, resting his chin on his clasped hands.

"Well that was awkward," Betty commented, sitting back down beside him. "Still obsessing over admitting Tyler was right?" she guessed, gently bumping him with her shoulder.

"No . . ." he lied.

"Daniel . . . Face it. You acted like a five year-old from the moment he set foot at MODE. The whole modeling thing, Amanda, your mom – everyone was fawning all over him the way they used to fawn all over you. You even flipped out at me for daring to say two words to him. You were jealous and afraid he was your newer, younger replacement," she observed.

"How do you do that?" Daniel asked, annoyed.

"Do what?" she wondered.

"Get inside my head and reveal the last thing I want said out loud," he answered, turning his head toward hers.

"It's a gift," she teased, locking her arm in his and resting her head on his shoulder.

"I saw you talking to him that day and I had to say something. I couldn't lose you of all people to Team Tyler. I didn't care how childish I seemed – you were off limits," he confessed.

"I love it that you got all possessive over me back then," she smiled.

"Yeah, now that I think about it, I've always had a hard time letting you go," he reflected.

"Me, too. Baby, you know from the day I met you, I've always been on Team Daniel. When have I ever strayed?" she asked.

"Well, there was that time you left me to work for Wilhelmina . . . and when you kept her affair with her bodyguard a secret from me . . ." he pointed out.

"Daniel, the whole time I was trying to get you back in at MODE . . . And it killed me to keep that secret from you, but my dad was in serious trouble . . ." she defended herself.

"You're right. I'm sorry – I was just teasing. I know you've always been there for me," Daniel brushed her hair back, softly kissing her lips.

"And I always will . . . which is why you're now going to get into bed –" she told him.

"Mmm . . . you _are_ good to me!" he seductively whispered, running his tongue along her earlobe.

Betty felt her breath catch but stopped herself from getting pulled in again.

"Your mind has a permanent home in the gutter, doesn't it?" she rolled her eyes, gently pushing him away. "Beds do have other purposes . . . ever heard of that little thing called 'sleep'?" she teased.

"Really? Sounds kinda boring," he mischievously mocked as she pulled him off the couch.

"Yes, well . . . as 'boring' as sleep may be, you really need a nap. It's been an eventful day, and I don't want you to have a setback or something," she informed him.

"As long as you come with me," he bargained, hugging her waist and kissing her neck.

"I don't think any sleeping would get done that way – at least not with the mood you're in right now. Now go!" she giggled, turning him around, playfully smacking his ass.

"You're so sexy when you're in 'Bossy Betty' mode – sure you don't want to join me?" he sinfully looked back at her.

"Daniel . . . Don't tempt me okay?" she pleaded with him.

"K – Love you, babe," he gave her a bittersweet smile.

"You too, baby," she smiled back, and decided to look at her email to see if Claire had gotten back to them yet about the contractors. She needed a distraction from what she couldn't do with Daniel and from the whole mess with Tyler and Matt. Something positive to focus on . . .

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Matt Hartley is going to rot in that damn jail for life, if I have any say in it - he crossed the line! . . . And _nobody_ messes with my plans and gets away with it!" the woman exclaimed.

"And _you!_ You ratted him out - leaked everything. Remember our deal – don't utter a word about my part in this – or your precious little Meade family will be sorry!" she threatened.

"Yeah, yeah – I remember. But we also had another deal – no one gets seriously hurt," Tyler refreshed her memory.

"Your brother screwed up – too late for that. I won't make any promises. If it weren't for those _bitches_, I'd be a Meade! They're going to pay – _pay!_" she abruptly hung up the phone.


	16. Chapter 16

_Thank you for understanding and for still reading and reviewing - it's greatly appreciated! :) As for the identity of the mysterious woman, only a lot of time and patience will tell, lol. In the meantime, enjoy the next chapter . . ._

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"Was that the same tone-deaf truck-driver we saw four years ago?" Daniel wondered as they walked out of the pizza place.

"I think so. He must be a regular," Betty laughed.

"I can't believe they upped their prices – _two_ songs?" he said.

"Come on, Daniel. We're still recovering from a recession – not everyone is rolling in money. They've gotta make people really work for half-off," she pointed out.

"Oh my god – I wish I had a video of you rapping 'Baby Got Back' - it'd get so many hits on YouTube! I can see it now - 'Daniel Meade: Mag Millionaire Turned Hip-Hop Star'" she doubled over in laughter.

"Hey – I thought I was pretty good?" he took offense.

"You were, baby – you were," she patted him on the arm and stifled a snicker as they continued to walk along the almost empty streets.

"It's too bad there weren't any wedding receptions to crash," he smiled, thinking back.

"Why? Were you looking to hit on another bridesmaid with big boobs?" she teased, bumping him with her hip.

"No . . ." he bumped her back. "And I still think it's weird when you say that," he chuckled and shook his head. "Besides, I've got someone better – I've got a gorgeous _bride_ . . . with _very . . ._ _sexy_ . . . boobs," he lowered his voice flirtatiously, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Daniel . . ." Betty blushed and smiled up at him coyly. "You're such a hypocrite – funny how _you_ can say it but _I_ can't – and _I'm_ the one who has them," she mused.

"I don't know, it just takes me back to when you were so adamant about me 'getting back on the horse' . . . The thought of you, a girl, trying to find me another girl to sleep with and talking like a guy would was abnormal," he clarified.

"Oh. Yeah, I probably would've reacted the same if you had tried to find me a date and started talking like a girl about him," she agreed.

"About the reception - I really was just craving some good free cake for dessert," he admitted.

"That cake we copped was yummy," she remembered, tucking her hair behind her ear, avoiding the wind. "It feels weird being back here," Betty buttoned the top button of her magenta pea coat and hugged her arms, trying to fight off the bitter cold of the New York night as she leaned against the railing of the bridge, staring at the skyline as the snow fell down.

"Yeah, our lives were so screwed up the last time we were here," Daniel agreed, coming behind her, wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm.

"Why didn't you ever call me?" he asked, remembering his promise to her.

"I don't know – it just never happened I guess. We both got tangled up in other things – too busy to just come here and look at the city like this," she sighed, recalling the constant chaos. "And I knew you probably didn't mean it, anyway – we were still half-drunk, half-tired and waxing nostalgic," she remembered, with a bittersweet smile, before looking down at her gloves.

For some reason, standing here, looking back, made her feel a little like she was his lowly assistant again – only this time with a major crush - stupid, but true.

"I meant it – I probably should've called _you_, instead. I would've gone anywhere for you – even then. There was something about you that just got to my heart," Daniel told her.

"_Aww . . ._ I still can't believe we made it this far – we're so different than who we used to be," she observed.

"You were so afraid of change – letting go of being my assistant, looking a little different. But it can be a good thing," he remembered.

"A very good thing," she agreed, turning around, running her hands from his shoulders down to his chest. "We're still us though – just new and improved," she added, adjusting his cashmere scarf, smiling as she looked up at him.

"Exactly," he kissed her cold nose. "Wanna get some hot chocolate – you're like an icicle," he noticed.

"Sure. It's freezing out here, and the last thing I want for Christmas is pneumonia," she joked.

"It was really nice of your dad to offer to let us stay at his house while we're here. You don't still have those 'Little Mermaid' sheets on your bed, do you?" he teased.

"No! I got rid of those a long time ago," she rolled her eyes, smacking him on the arm.

"Just checking," he chuckled.

"I think Papi's been pretty lonely. The house is empty, since Hilda, Justin, and Bobby moved to Manhattan and I moved to another country. Elena hasn't finished with nursing school, so Papi's been by himself. We told him he should get a dog or a cat, but he claims they're too much trouble and he's fine," she sighed. "I worry about him. But I know Hilda checks on him every day, so I guess I shouldn't," she added.

"You took care of everyone in your family for so long, it's only natural for you to worry. But I think they're all doing great on their own. I can tell your dad's more than happy to have one of his daughters back with him for a little while, though. Plus, it's the holidays, so I'm sure Hilda and Justin will be in and out a lot because of it," Daniel figured.

"That's true. Everyone's coming over tomorrow to help decorate the tree we bought Papi. You had a good idea about getting him an artificial one that looked realistic," she told him.

"Well, I just thought he might throw his back out or have another heart attack trying to cart a real one home, every year. Plus, they're less maintenance," he humbly responded.

"I love how you look out for him," she smiled up at him.

"Well, he's been really great to me from the beginning . . . given me better advice than my father ever took the time to give. And I saw what you went through when he had a heart attack - what I went through with my dad. I just don't want anything to happen to him," Daniel admitted.

Betty stared lovingly at him, stopping him from walking, before reaching up and planting her lips on his in a slow, ardent kiss, leaving them both breathless.

"What was that for?" Daniel asked, still dumbstruck.

"I – I just couldn't put into words how amazing you are," she gazed at him adoringly.

"Well that definitely works," he grinned.

"Yeah, I guess it does," she laughed as they continued to head toward her father's house.

"I hope my mom's enjoying Paris. Alexis was excited for her to see it at Christmas time," he said, looking at all the decorations while they walked the streets.

"Me, too. We should go sometime. I've always wanted to see Paris," Betty suggested.

"It's beautiful – you'd love it. We could go there for our honeymoon, if you want," he offered.

"I'd love that," she smiled, shyly, and took his hand.

Who knew after standing on that bridge, consoling Daniel from a broken engagement with a successful magazine editor, that four years later _she'd_ be the editor marrying him? Sometimes everything felt so surreal; she had to pinch herself to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"Betty?" Daniel waved his other hand in front of her face.

"Huh? What?" she shook her startled head.

"What were you zoning out about?" he asked.

"Nothing, just the irony of everything," she smiled. "What were you saying?" she wondered.

"Nothing – just that I hope we won't wake your dad up when we come in and start banging around in the kitchen," he reiterated.

"Oh, don't worry. Hilda and Bobby gave him one of those single cup coffeemakers like we have, since they had another extra one from their wedding gifts," she answered.

"How come I didn't see it when we ate lunch?" he furrowed his brow.

"Papi's stubborn and refuses to use it. Says he can't ever figure out these 'new-fangled contraptions', even though a monkey could make a cup in two seconds," she rolled her eyes.

"Hey! It took me forever to figure out I didn't need to pull off the lid or where to put the mug . . ." he objected, his voice raising an octave.

"Sorry, baby – a _very intelligent_ monkey," she snickered and rubbed his back.

"Glad I could amuse you," he pouted.

"Aww . . . you know I love you," she assured him.

"Yeah, love to make fun of me . . ." he grumbled.

"Daniel, you have a degree from Harvard – I know for a fact you're not stupid. You just refuse to read directions, or actually use that brain of yours sometimes," she gave him a knowing look.

"You're beginning to sound like my mother," he complained. "But I guess you're right," he admitted.

"Aren't I always," she smiled mischievously.

"Watch it – there's a big pile of snow over there that's calling your name," he playfully threatened, pointing to the mound in front of her father's house.

"You wouldn't dare . . ." she challenged.

"Try me . . ." he countered as he hoisted her over his shoulder and threw her in the cold, wet snow.

"Aaaah! Daniel!" Betty squealed, pushing herself up. "Okay, I deserved that," she admitted.

Daniel grinned, satisfied.

"Apology accept –" he began before she knocked him down into the same pile and pretended to walk away.

"And just where do you think you're going?" Daniel asked, sitting far enough up to grab Betty's hand and pull her back down with him as she squealed in protest.

"You devious little –" he grinned.

"What?" she giggled.

"Come here," he pulled her close and captured her lips in a seductive kiss.

"Mmm . . . I told you never to mess with a girl from Queens," she flirted as they broke.

"Well, I guess I learned my lesson . . ." he chuckled before pulling her in again.

"Umm . . . Daniel?" Betty mumbled into his lips.

"Yeah, baby?" he asked, slightly pulling away.

"I think we need to go inside," she suggested.

"Mmm . . . we _definitely_ should go inside," he agreed, continuing to kiss her lips then her cheek.

"No – not that – I mean the snow's seeped through my jeans and my legs are beginning to get numb," she explained.

"Oh – sorry!" he quickly got up before offering her his hands. "Come on," he pulled her up and they quietly went inside.

As they stepped through the entry, they slipped and slid, falling on the floor before they could even take their boots off. Betty started to giggle, which made Daniel start in.

"Shh . . ." she snickered. "We'll wake Papi up!" she warned him.

"I can't stop – I just have this image of you falling flat on your ass and I can't get it out of my head," he whispered, trying to muffle his laughter.

"Daniel, that's not funny!" she smacked him, then thought about it for a minute. "Okay, maybe it's a little funny . . ." she started giggling again as she took off her boots. "Now all I can think of is the look on your face when I took you down with me . . ." she laughed into his chest to stifle herself.

"Get up! I need you to help me get the coffeemaker," she told him, still high on laughter. "It's in that top cabinet, but –" Betty began to tell Daniel before he took it from the bottom of a pile of pans that consequently crash and clang to the floor. ". . . take the pans out first," she sighed, finishing what she was trying to tell him.

"Sorry," he sheepishly smiled.

"Daniel! Now I _know_ you woke Papi up – and probably half the neighborhood!" she whispered, exasperated.

"_Me?_ What about _you_ and all the giggling? And why are you whispering if you're so _sure_ we woke him up?" he countered.

"You are five years-old, right now. Why can't you just admit you're too impulsive to listen before you act?" she fired back. Why were they arguing, anyway? All Daniel did was make a stupid petty mistake.

"You're right, I'm sorry. You knew where it was and how to get it down. I should've listened instead of acting like I knew everything," he apologized.

"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have jumped all over your case. I don't know why I did, except I was really hoping we wouldn't wake Papi up," she hugged him. "You aren't hurt, are you?" she looked up at him, concerned.

"Nah . . . just my pride," he smiled and kissed the top of her head just as Ignacio walked in to the disaster of a kitchen.

"What are you dos locos up to this mañana?" Ignacio chuckled in disbelief, observing the mess.

"Nothing . . . we were just trying to quietly make hot chocolate with the new coffeemaker you refuse to use," Betty innocently smiled.

"A-and Betty knocked down all the pans trying to get it down," Daniel nervously finished for her.

Betty backhandedly smacked him in the stomach.

"We _both_ knocked them down," she told her father before glaring back at Daniel. "I'm sorry we woke you, Papi. We were trying not to," she apologized.

"It's okay, Mija. I needed to start breakfast, anyway," he smiled.

She smiled back, still feeling guilty. She couldn't believe after they just talked about it that he'd go and make out like _she_ did it, in front of her father.

"We'll be right back," Betty told her dad, grabbing Daniel's arm and pulling him up the stairs.

"How the hell could you do that? You really _are_ five!" she berated him.

"I'm sorry – I just didn't want to get on your father's bad side," he squeaked, defensively.

"Over some pots and pans falling? Coward!" she yelled.

"What? I am not! I just knew he wouldn't take it out on you. I wasn't sure how he'd react with me . . ." he protested.

"Exactly – you were afraid. _God_, Daniel! What's wrong with you? What happened to the guy who'd punch-out or fire my ex-boyfriends, who took down Tyler, who'd take the fall when I unintentionally plagiarized a story, who'd defend me every time Wilhelmina tried to throw me to the wolves? Now you can't even own up to knocking down kitchenware?" she shouted.

"I'm sorry – I –" Daniel attempted to apologize.

"Just forget it, okay?" she told him in a quieter, but still livid voice. "Can you manage to clean up the mess – or is that too scary for you, too? I'm taking a shower –" she retorted.

"Betty –" Daniel tried to smooth things over.

"And no, you can't come!" she snapped before slamming the bathroom door in his face.

Daniel ran his hand over his face and through his hair, in frustration.

Ignacio came up behind Daniel and gently put his hand on his shoulder.

"The Suarez women are very passionate," he began, leading Daniel back down the stairs. "I can't count how many times Rosa and I had huge fights over nothing," Ignacio fondly recalled.

"How did you get through them?" Daniel asked.

"Yo no se. But we always made up and sometimes couldn't remember how it started. The key to a long, happy marriage, my son, is not to hold things inside. If you keep everything that bothers you bottled-up, put on a polite face - never argue - it eats you alive," Ignacio warned.

Daniel curiously looked at him.

"I'm not saying you should constantly yell and scream and make each other miserable, but keep a happy-medium – like huevos rancheros. You've got to have just the right amount of fire with the salsa blended with mildness of the cheeses and eggs. And when in doubt, the woman is always right," he winked.

"Thanks, Mr. Suarez," Daniel smiled.

"Ah – it's Ignacio," he reminded him. "Would you like to give me a hand with these pans?" Ignacio asked.

"Sure," Daniel answered, picking two up and placing them in the dishwasher.

"You made one hell of a mess," Ignacio observed.

"How did you? But – I – Betty –" Daniel nervously stuttered, thrown that her father had figured it out.

"Daniel, I know my Betty is too short to reach that cabinet. And her pants were too wet for you to want to throw her on your shoulders. It had to have been you," Ignacio pointed out.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Daniel admitted, lowering his head.

"Don't worry about it, Mijo. It takes a lot more than pots and pans crashing to upset me. I raised Betty, didn't I?" Ignacio joked. "She was always bumping or crashing into something - I'm used to all the accidents. And Daniel, you're part of our family now and we love you. You're a good man. Don't ever feel uncomfortable or like you can't be yourself around me or anyone else," Ignacio assured him.

"Thank you, Ignacio. I love you guys, too," Daniel said.

Ignacio patted Daniel on the back and they finished cleaning up.


	17. Chapter 17

_Thank you all for reading and responding - it's always appreciated! This chapter's extra long. Enjoy! :)_

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"Hey," Daniel timidly walked into Betty's childhood room, noticing her wet-haired, sitting pretzel-style, clad in purple, gingerbread men-printed PJ bottoms and a solid lilac fitted t-shirt, glued to her phone.

"Hey," Betty responded, barely looking up from her Blackberry. He put his mug down before taking her phone and handing the other mug to her. "We need to talk," he began.

"What's there to talk about?" she stubbornly replied, concentrating on the melting marshmallows in her hot chocolate.

He knew he had screwed up, but he didn't think she'd still be this pissed about it. He picked up his mug and sat in front of her on the bed.

"Don't do that. Look, I'm sorry. I _was_ being a coward. I chickened-out and placed the blame on you. I just didn't want to look like an idiot in front of your dad," he told her.

"Like _that_ hasn't happened before," she scoffed.

"Okay fine – since you and I have been together," he clarified.

"Didn't we already have this conversation a few months ago? Daniel, my dad isn't going to bite your head off for something simple like that. Why are you so afraid of him?" she wondered.

"He's the same man you've had dinner with and taken advice from for years – you threw up in every room in this house, for god's sake! In my opinion, he had a hell of a lot more reason to be upset about _that_ than dropping pans," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but I wasn't marrying his daughter then. I was just her screw-up friend. There's a big difference," he remarked.

"Yeah, I guess so," she agreed.

"But I had a really good talk with him and I finally realized I don't need to feel that way anymore," he said, taking a sip from his mug.

"That's good," she curtly replied. "Can I have my phone back now – I need to finish texting Charlotte and Amanda about next issue's shoot?" Betty requested.

Daniel gave her an inquisitive look. It was the holidays – no one was working right now. They had already set everything in place for the next issue, as far as concepts and all the details. It was just a matter of pulling it together when they got back.

Betty sighed.

"Yes, it's Christmas and everyone's off. And I'm sure you just think I'm making this up to avoid you. But if you look, you'll see Charlotte just texted me that Aurora Maddox –" she unwillingly began to elaborate.

"That artist from Wales who paints for charity?" he assumed, forgetting her name.

"Yeah. Anyway, she insists on everything green," she finished.

"The color?" he smirked.

"No, Daniel – don't play dumb! Green as in eco-friendly – including her clothes for the spread," Betty huffed in aggravation. "Now hand it over before I have to knock you down and wrestle you for it!" she demanded.

"This could get very interesting . . ." he pondered, mischievously.

"I'm not in the mood for your kinky games," Betty rolled her eyes.

"Give me the phone!" she commanded.

"Not until you tell me what's really bothering you," Daniel insisted.

"It's nothing. I just think staying up all night after a long flight that morning was a bad idea. I'm tired, and you know that makes me bitchy about every little thing," she dismissed his concern.

"Are you sure? You can tell me anything, Betty. If I've done something -" he asked, still not completely buying her explanation.

"Daniel, I told you – don't worry about me – I'm fine," she insisted and held out her hand for the phone.

Daniel reluctantly gave it to her.

"Are we okay?" he apprehensively asked.

Betty looked into his kind blue eyes and softened.

"Yeah, we're good," she kissed his lips apologetically. "_Ewww_ . . . Babe, you kinda stink," she wrinkled her nose.

"Thanks . . ." Daniel feigned offense.

"Okay . . . I'm gonna take a quick shower and let my hot chocolate cool down. I love you," he pecked her cheek.

"I love you, too," she forced a smile.

When she was sure he was gone, she began to let the tears flow. It was something she needed to do herself; she'd done it for years – no reason to drag him into it . . .

"Baby, where are the towels?" Daniel popped back into the doorway, half-dressed. "Hey, are you crying?" he rushed to her side.

"No – no – I'm fine," she sniffled, quickly wiping her tears.

"Betty, you are _not_ 'fine'. Tell me what's wrong?" he gently commanded.

"I don't want to bother you with it, okay? I know you have your own issues, and with what happened with Matt – it's just too much," she told him.

"Baby, if you hurt, I hurt – we're a package deal – always have been. So you might as well just tell me. Let me help you," he pleaded, taking her hands.

Betty sighed.

"Okay," she reluctantly conceded. "But do me a favor and go take that shower first," she weakly smiled.

"K – don't go anywhere," he agreed and rushed out, only to come back two seconds later.

"Closet by the bathroom door," she answered before he even opened his mouth.

He nodded and ran back out.

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Daniel returned, ten minutes later, in a white v-neck t-shirt and navy blue running pants, his hair still wet.

"Are you okay with telling me? I don't mean to push you – I just want you to know I'm here for you – no matter what," he slowly sat down and caressed her arm.

"Thank you. You really don't need to worry about me, though. I – I know I said we'd talk about it, but could you just hold me, for now?" she looked at him, her brown eyes desperately pleading him to oblige her.

He nodded, unable to stand seeing her this way.

"Come here," he lay down on his side, behind her, and gently pulled her against him, soothing her until they both end up falling asleep.

He wished she would open up to him. He hated being helpless as to how to make that gleaming smile show up on her face again, the bubbly girl who used to get excited over free company pens. Whatever was making her cry, he had to stop.

About a half an hour later, Daniel slowly woke up and quietly slid out of bed, careful not to disturb Betty. As he sleepily sauntered into the hallway, he bumped into Ignacio.

"Daniel - I was just coming to let you two know that breakfast is ready," Ignacio mentioned.

"Oh, thanks. Betty's taking a nap; I kinda don't wanna bug her. But I'm starving!" he said as they went down to the kitchen.

While eating, Daniel paused, still preoccupied with Betty.

"Is something wrong?" Ignacio noticed Daniel absently pushing the remainder of the eggs on his plate.

"No – the food's great . . . Can I ask you something?" Daniel began.

"What's on your mind?" Ignacio inquired.

"Betty and I made-up – I think. And she claims she's just tired, but I know there's something more to it. When I asked her, she finally agreed to tell me, but then backed out. I'm worried about her," he admitted.

"I don't know, son. Maybe Betty really is just tired . . ." he took a sip of juice, then slowly set it down. "_Dios mio!_ What was I thinking? It's that time of year again," Ignacio exclaimed, shaking his head in shame.

"Huh?" Daniel wondered, confused.

"Christmas was her mother's favorite holiday. Betty tried to hide it. She's afraid she'll upset me, but she always has a hard time coping this time of year," Ignacio explained with sadness.

"Why couldn't she just tell me?" Daniel asked, frustrated. "Never mind, I know the answer to that one. She's always concerned about other people, but refuses to let them help her – thinks she can handle it all . . ." Daniel shook his head, wishing she'd just let him in.

"That's my Betty for you, she gets it from her mother," Ignacio agreed.

"Does anything help her through it?" Daniel hoped to find something to do for her.

"Well, there is one thing . . ." Ignacio began, stopping when he noticed Betty coming into the kitchen. "Did you have a nice siesta, Mija?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you, Papi. Mmm . . . this smells good!" Betty grabbed a plate and dug in.

Daniel and Ignacio looked at each other.

"So when is everyone coming over?" Daniel tried to think about anything else.

"Hilda said they would all be here for dinner," Ignacio replied.

"Great. I can't wait to decorate the tree with you guys, again," Daniel said.

"Why don't you kids go out, see some more of the city now that it's daylight," her father suggested, looking secretively at Daniel.

"That sounds like a good idea. What do you think, Betty?" he asked her.

"Papi, are you trying to get rid of us for some reason?" she suspiciously wondered.

"Betty, of course not. I just think you and Daniel would have more fun in the city than hanging out with your old man," he covered.

"Papi . . ." Betty looked at her father with pity.

"Besides, I need to do some shopping, go to the market, prepare dinner . . ." Ignacio rambled on with excuses.

"Okay, okay – I get it – we're going as soon as we get dressed," she laughed. "Come on, Daniel – let's get out of Papi's hair," she stood up and headed toward the stairs.

"Just a sec, babe – I wanna get a little more orange juice," he told her.

"K," she went upstairs.

Once he and Ignacio made sure Betty was gone, Daniel asked what he had in mind. Ignacio found a notepad and began to write.

"Take her here – it sometimes makes her feel a little better," Ignacio handed him the piece of paper.

"Thanks," Daniel smiled and went to change clothes.

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"I can't believe you wanted to bring me here – how did you even know?" Betty shook her head in awed disbelief and nervously fingered the small wreath in her hand.

Daniel helped her up the steep, snowy hill.

"Your dad mentioned you might be missing her and that coming to see her helps, so I figured now would be a good time," he shrugged as they reach their destination.

Betty squeezed Daniel's hand before crouching in front of the gray cement headstone, marked 'Rosa Suarez'.

"Hi, Mami – it's me, Betty . . . I've been thinking about you a lot . . . and I'm sorry I haven't been here lately. Life's been really crazy . . . but I know that's no excuse . . ." she guiltily fidgeted with the bow on the wreath. "I - I brought someone with me who I'd like you to meet . . ." she motioned for Daniel to come down next to her.

"This is Daniel. He's been the rock in my life pretty much since I started working for him. I'm sure I've mentioned him before . . ." she smirked, knowing she was almost always talking about him in some way, when she came.

"But there's a reason I brought him with me today . . . We've been best friends for years and neither one of us expected it, but right before I moved to London, we fell for each other . . . Daniel's the best man I know – he's kind, smart, fun, generous, caring . . . and definitely not bad on the eyes," she nervously giggled, glancing at Daniel.

"You'd love him, Mami . . . I honestly don't know what I'd do without him . . . which is why we're getting married in June. I really wish you could be there . . . you have no idea how much . . ." Betty sniffled, attempting to fight the flood ensuing. No longer able to speak, she motioned for Daniel to say something.

"Hi, Mrs. Suarez. I'm not very good at this . . . um . . . I just want to tell you that you've raised a beautiful, amazing daughter, and I'm so grateful that she literally slammed into my life," he smiled, remembering that day. "Betty means everything to me – I love her with all my heart," he caressed Betty's cheek before continuing.

"And I promise I won't waste a minute trying to make her safe and happy . . . It was nice meeting you – it's too bad it couldn't have been in person," Daniel awkwardly cleared his throat and stood up.

Betty carefully positioned the wreath on the grave.

"Merry Christmas, Mami. I love you," she wiped the tears from her eyes and got up, taking one last look before nodding at Daniel that she was ready to go.

"So, back to your dad's? Or maybe some lunch?" he asked after a few minutes of silence. She shook her head.

"There's one more place I think we should go first . . ." she looked knowingly at him as they reached the MEADE town car.

"No – Betty – it's really not necessary – I –" Daniel objected.

"Yes, it is. When was the last time you went?" Betty asked.

Daniel mumbled.

"What was that?" she mocked, climbing into the car. Daniel huffed.

"Since his funeral . . ." he reluctantly admitted.

"Exactly what I figured – we're going!" she commanded, giving Phil the directions.

"I don't know why I even bother putting up a fight . . ." he chuckled, kissing her temple.

"See, you're finally learning," she playfully smiled. "Besides, it's only fair that we go see your father, after you took me to see my mother," Betty added, her tone more serious again.

". . . This morning - I just – when you knocked down those pans . . . it reminded me of my mom," she revealed.

"Because she did the same thing?" Daniel carefully assumed.

"No, I did – well, Hilda and I did actually," she sighed, remembering. "Hilda was twelve and I was five. It was Christmas vacation and she insisted on making cookies for breakfast as a surprise for Mami and Papi," she went on.

"We fixed the dough okay, but needed a cookie sheet. Hilda couldn't reach it by herself, so she forced me to climb on her shoulders. It was on the bottom and Mami always told us never to pull anything from the bottom of a pile – to take what's on top off first. But Hilda couldn't hold me any longer, so I took the pan out anyway and everything fell," Betty said, picking at a loose thread on her sweater.

". . . Just like it did this morning?" Daniel figured.

She nodded.

"We argued over whose fault it was and when Mami came downstairs, Hilda immediately said it was all my fault. I started crying, afraid I was in big trouble. But then Mami's face softened and she started laughing uncontrollably at the sight of us, covered in flour and dough, standing in a pile of pots, pans, and broken egg shells. I'll never forget that laugh . . ." she smiled fondly at the memory of her mother.

Daniel took hold of her hand and squeezed it.

"So what happened after that?" he asked.

"She helped us clean up our mess . . . Papi came down, and we all baked and decorated the cookies together. I forgot about that day until now . . ." she looked down at the floor of the car, ashamed of forgetting anything about her mother and their moments together.

"It's alright to forget. It doesn't mean you love her any less than you always did," Daniel assured her, knowing he felt the same way about his father sometimes – even guilty for continuing to hold a grudge after he was gone.

"I know, but I still blame myself, because those memories are all I have left of her," she explained, tears beginning to fall again.

He immediately took her in his arms and held her.

"Shhh . . . Baby, it's okay . . ." he tried to comfort her, the best he could, as she wept into his chest.

"I'm sorry. I do this every year around this time. I never know when it's gonna hit me, but something always triggers it - usually putting the angel on the tree, but not always. I try to keep it to myself – Papi has enough trouble as it is. Christmas was Mami's favorite holiday . . ." Betty wiped her stained cheeks.

"The holidays are always the worst," Daniel agreed. "Even though most of my memories of Christmas as a kid weren't very enjoyable, I still remember the one year Dad dressed up as Santa for me and Alex. He tried to fool us, read us 'The Night Before Christmas', asked us what we wanted . . . one of the few great times we had with him. But then Mom came in sloshed, and ended up pulling his beard down and ruining the whole thing," he chuckled, shaking his head. Betty started giggling.

"I can't picture Bradford Meade ever doing anything like that. It's very sweet," she commented.

"Yeah, he had his moments and a soft side, even though he didn't show it very often," Daniel cleared his throat and rubbed one of his eyes.

"Babe, you're crying," Betty touched his cheek.

"No – I'm fine. I just got something stuck in my eye," he brushed her off.

"You don't have to hold it in. I know you and your dad didn't have the best relationship, but it's okay to get emotional. He was still your father, and I know you loved him," she assured him.

"Sometimes I wonder if he loved me," he lowered his head.

"Daniel, you know he did. He wouldn't have cared what you did with your life if he didn't," she insisted.

Daniel still wasn't convinced.

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Twenty minutes later, they approach the Meade family plot, the monstrosity of a monument hard to miss by anyone.

"Dad never did anything small," Daniel mused. "Well, we came – can we go now?" he anxiously begged.

"Daniel, we barely got here. Isn't there anything you want to say to your father?" Betty reasoned with him.

"What's the point? It's not like it'll change anything – he's dead. I'll be talking to a piece of stone – same as when he was alive. And even if he could hear me, nothing will make things right . . ." his clenched his fists in frustration.

"Daniel . . ." Betty's heart bled for him. She couldn't imagine what it would have been like to have Bradford Meade as a father - despite knowing he hadn't been completely bad.

"I know it's silly and you probably only talked to my mom just to humor me. But at least for me, it's therapeutic. Even though I can't see her or hear her, there's something comforting about telling her things. It makes me feel like she's still here in some form. Maybe it won't work for you, but I think you should try it – just say whatever's on your mind," she suggested.

"Okay . . . umm . . . where do I start?" he approached Bradford's grave. "Hey, Dad – it's your screw-up son. Only I don't think I'm such a screw-up anymore . . . If you were here, you'd probably disagree and yell at me for quitting my job, being happier with less pay and a less prestigious title. But I don't care. I've finally found something I love – found _someone_ I love - and I think that's good enough, even if you don't," he swallowed, a huge lump in his throat as he struggled to form the three words he had always found difficult to tell his father.

"I – I love you, Dad . . . and I wish I really knew that there was some part of you that loved me back, that it wasn't all about control and making sure your god damned reputation wasn't crapped-up . . . I was so freakin' sick of being criticized, being compared to Alex, never living up to your expectations. Every time you told me I had done a good job . . . it was like Christmas morning . . . because those times were so rare," his voice cracked and he choked back tears, ashamed that he was still so infuriated.

"I spent most of my life obsessing over how to please you and the other half telling myself to 'screw it' because there was no use in trying . . . _God!_ I'm surprised I didn't need a therapist. I wish I wasn't a disappointment to you, that you were truly proud of me, that you really cared about me – not what others thought. I'm so tired of feeling like this!" Daniel kicked the marble headstone before breaking down on the ground in front of it.

Betty immediately fell to her knees, inviting him into her arms. Daniel reluctantly clung to her. He knew he was being a hypocrite, but he hated being so vulnerable. Even with Betty, who'd already seen him at his worst. Regardless, he clutched onto her even tighter. Something about being in her arms always made the pain subside.

"_Oh, baby_ . . . shhh . . . just let it out . . . you'll feel better," she assured him.

"I tried so hard . . ." he shakily said, attempting to catch his breath.

"I know . . . Daniel, you're a good man. You're nothing like the jerk I met on my first day. Never forget that," Betty told him, stroking his back.

". . . I never told you this before, but remember when your mom got arrested at the hospital and you asked me to stay with your dad?" Betty nervously began.

"Yeah?" Daniel wondered, pulling back.

"Well, he held my hand and asked me to take care of you. He told me I was the only one who had been able to keep you in line – that you'd be lost without me," she revealed.

"He actually said that?" he asked, shocked.

"He did," she nodded, taking his hand. "And I want you to know that I didn't stay with you out of obligation or guilt. I already had doubts about leaving – I was just afraid of changing. After having to lie to you for Wilhelmina, I thought I was losing myself. But your father's words stuck with me," she admitted and turned toward Bradford's headstone.

"Hi, Mr. Meade. It's Betty Suarez – you probably wouldn't recognize me if you saw me today, but I used to be Daniel's assistant . . . you asked me to take care of him after you were gone . . . well I'm still here and always will be. I bet you never expected or intended for us to fall in love when you asked me that. But we have," she took a deep breath, afraid of confronting Daniel's father even after he was gone.

"I hate how much you've hurt Daniel. But I know you loved him. Thank you for hiring me – working for Daniel . . . it changed my life . . . I finally met my true soulmate. You have a wonderful son who you'd be very proud of," Betty glanced back at Daniel. "Oh – I hope you're having fun at the beach," she added, smiling.

"The beach? What are you talking about?" Daniel questioned.

"Your father's ghost haunted me –" she revealed.

"Wait – my dad haunted you? Like a nagging voice in your head or like those scary movies you insist on watching and then end up clinging to me the rest of the night, making me check behind the shower curtain and under the bed?" he wondered.

"_Hey!_ I do _not_ do that!" she protested. "And even if I do, who was the one who made me unplug the DVD player and the microwave the last time we watched 'Tommy-knockers'?" she smirked.

"Yeah, whatever. Back to my question," he grumbled.

"I really did see your dad's ghost. He wasn't scary – well except for whenever he popped up out of nowhere . . . it was weird, though – he wore a Hawaiian shirt and went to the beach afterwards . . . But he made me realize that where I needed to be was with you. It was almost as if he knew something we didn't at the time," she told him.

"That's freaky . . . Why didn't you ever tell me this?" Daniel tried to process everything.

"Mainly because I didn't want you to think it was the only reason I stayed at MODE. Yes, I wanted to respect your father's wishes, but I never wanted to leave you to begin with – just the job - because I thought it was consuming me." she paused in thought.

"It turns out that it was just helping me stop being so naive – understand not everything is easy or fair and not everyone is pleasant to work with . . . And that sometimes it's okay to bend the rules and be deviously resourceful, that it's possible to change yourself without losing who you are. It helped me grow – _you_ helped me grow. We needed each other. I guess your dad could see that, even when we couldn't," she observed.

"Yeah, I guess he did . . ." Daniel smiled at Betty, then back at his father's grave.

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"I wonder what Tyler's doing?" Daniel concentrated on the cracks in the sidewalk leading up to her father's house, hesitating about whether he should really be thinking about it at all. "I still don't really like him, but I know what it's like to spend the holidays alone. Sort of a family tradition until recently," he bitterly scoffed, thinking of briefly visiting his mother in the mental institution and trying to stay far away from his disapproving father and his ritzy holiday parties, bragging to everyone about Alex, his 'golden boy'.

"I'm sorry you had to go through such horrible Christmases. I promise from now on they'll be great," she hugged him tight while they reached the front of the gate.

"Thank you. As long as I have you, I don't need anything else to make me happy," he wrapped his arm around her waist.

"It's sweet that you care about Tyler," she commented, flipping the latch up.

"I don't . . . care about him," he insisted, kicking a dirtied ball of snow off the sidewalk.

"It's okay, if you do. It doesn't make you a bad person – just means you're human," she assured him as they walked through.

"You're not mad at me? Or disappointed?" Daniel asked, surprised.

"Babe, why would you think that?" Betty wondered, closing the gate back.

"Because of what he did to you – I'm supposed to be defending you, be on your side – not feeling sympathy for the enemy," he explained.

"Daniel, I told you before – I don't mind if you forgive Tyler or at least find a way to co-exist. He's your brother – even if you didn't know him your entire life. If you didn't start to feel something toward him, I'd wonder. Do you see me upset with your mother because she still loves and cares about him?" Betty pointed out, opening the door.

"No . . ." he sheepishly replied as they stepped in the entry.

"Besides, it's the season to forgive and forget. I'm not saying I think you should buy him a flat-screen TV or an IPad, but it's fine if you want to call and talk to him. I'm sure your mother has his number," she reassured him, just as her phone rang.

"It's Marc – probably wanting to know what time we want to meet him for lunch tomorrow," Betty assumed, before answering it. "Hey, Marc!" she cheerfully greeted him.

"Betty . . . delivery . . . truck . . . boom . . .!" Marc frantically hyperventilated.

"Wait – Marc – slow down! I can't understand you. Where's your inhaler?" she asked, wondering what had him so freaked out.

Marc took a few puffs and finished.

"I was making sure the new issues were delivered – Willie didn't want another fiasco to happen. After the last truck was filled and the driver got in, it exploded. I was _this_ close to being leather to a Prada bag!" he flipped out.

"Oh my god! Marc, are you okay?" Betty exclaimed.

"Has less metal in your mouth made you dumber? Of course I'm not okay! Willie's gone on some phoneless, tech-less cruise with Conner, and your dearest mommy-in-law isn't answering her cell – not that it'd matter because she's all the way in the fashion capital of the world!" he panicked.

"Wake up, my Latina Londoner, and stop eating so many English muffins – they're shrinking your I.Q. and expanding your waistline! Can you get your loaded lover-boy on the phone – no wait – he's even worse. I'm screwed! _Oh god_. . . tell Troy and Mandy I love them . . . and - and feed Schmoopie Jr. for me . . . !" he nervously rambled on.

"_Marc! _Get a grip!" Betty shouted, exasperated.

"Well _excuse me_ for having a Lindsay moment!" he took offense.

"I'm sorry, Marc. Just calm down and don't lose your inhaler. We'll meet you at the loading dock as soon as we can," Betty told Marc, before hanging up. She looked worriedly at Daniel.

"Let's go!" he told her, then called Phil with their change of plans, while Betty called the police.


	18. Chapter 18

_Thank you for reading and for all the wonderful comments! Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! :)_

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"Marc! Are you okay?" Betty rushed over to her shaken friend.

"Well it's about damn time you and your lost puppy got here - I was about to wear a hole in my new Farragamos!" Marc complained as Betty hugged him.

"Are you hurt? Daniel – go get that paramedic over there," Betty frantically commanded after checking Marc for cuts and bruises, finding a couple of scratches on his face amongst the ash and debris on his cheeks and forehead. If Marc hadn't still been traumatized, she was sure he'd have a heart attack from the way he looked at the moment.

"Sure, babe," Daniel left as she requested.

"So now he's _your_ lackey. Oh how times have changed . . . we've warped into some alternate dimension," Marc joked.

"He's not my lackey . . . we're just equals now," she smiled, amused. "Do you have any idea who did this? Did you see anyone suspicious?" she asked as Daniel came back with an EMT.

"Like I told the cops – and don't tell Troy, but one of them was _definitely_ an officer and a gentleman – the only people I saw were the printer and the usual drivers and loaders. Hank, Ralph, Mitch, Buzz, Lloyd . . ." Marc babbled on.

"You mean Steven, Jacob, Dane, Andrew and Brandon?" Betty corrected him.

"Yeah, whatever – you know I'm like 10 Second Tom in '50 First Dates' when it comes to names . . . Anywhooo . . . th-that's all I know," he huffed.

"Marc, is there something you're not telling us? You seem a little squirrely – even for you . . ." Betty wondered.

"What?_ Nooooo . . .!_" he nervously guffawed.

"Trust me, my little Chimichanga; you have nothing to worry your chunky little cheeks about," Marc assured her.

Daniel gave him a skeptical look.

"And you either, Austin Powers," he told Daniel.

"Marc, if you're keeping things from us, we can't help you or my mom or Wilhelmina - or anyone else," Daniel reminded him.

"I know, I know. _God_, don't you think I want to find out who did this? That could've been _me_ or Willie who got flambéed . . ." Marc shuddered, then flashed back to right after he had spoken to Betty over the phone.

The gloved hand that had muzzled his mouth from behind . . . the eerie, distorted voice threatening him to leave well enough alone or it could be him or someone close to him who'd be next . . . It was Christmas, but he felt like he was starring in some overrated Halloween slasher film.

"Marc!" Betty snapped her fingers in front of his face in a third attempt to get his attention.

"Whaaat?" he jumped, irritated by the surprise.

"You _are_ hiding something, aren't you?" she said suspiciously, observing his edgy mood.

"_No!_ I – I - can we get out of here? This place is giving me the creeps," he answered, half-telling the truth.

"Sure," Daniel obliged, giving Betty a look to temporarily back-off. "While you were off in your own little world, the officer said we were free to go. I did say I'd call all the families as a courtesy from the company, though. I wish I could get ahold of Mom or Wilhelmina – it's really their job right now and I hate to seem like I'm taking over," Daniel worried.

"You're not, Daniel. You can't get in touch with them and Marc's too out of it. You're still a part of this company and you're only trying to do the right thing. I don't think anyone would fault you for it – not even Wilhelmina," Betty rubbed his arm in assurance.

"She's right. I appreciate you guys coming down here . . . and I'm sure Willie will too," Marc added.

"Thank you, Marc. We'll always be there for our friends," Daniel smiled supportively. "We were just about to get some lunch – have you eaten yet - maybe you guys can decide while I'm finishing up?" he offered, knowing it really didn't make much difference since Marc's idea of eating was a celery stick and a piece of lettuce.

They nodded as Daniel walked over to a quieter corner.

"How about that Japanese steakhouse we used to go to?" Betty suggested, remembering how much fun they had with Amanda before moving to London.

"Sure – I could have the veggie plate and a couple of pieces of your Hibachi chicken. And maybe this time one of us won't get our hair singed . . ." he started to laugh, when his voice trailed off.

Betty bowed her head.

". . . Maybe it's best to stay away from fire for a while. How about Gray's Papaya? I haven't had that in sooo long . . ." she started craving the quick-serve restaurant.

"Seriously? I thought you'd never want to see a hot dog again after that embarrassing job article we did. I know_ I_ don't!" Marc objected.

"Okay fine. What about La Famiglia?" she suggested.

"Italian? Really? Do you have any idea how many carbs there are in a plate of pasta or a slice of pizza? I don't think so," Marc turned up his nose.

"_Marc_ . . . if you keep turning places down, where are we supposed to eat?" Betty whined in protest.

"I don't know – but it's not like you couldn't stand to skip a meal and lose a few pounds – or fifty . . ." he retorted.

"Hey! Enough!" Daniel obviously overheard Marc's uncalled for cut and glared at him so hard Marc thought the daggers would go right through him.

"Now Marc, since you keep turning Betty's suggestions down, there's obviously someplace specific you've got in mind," Daniel observed.

"Well . . . I could go for a Pinkberry . . ." he answered as they begin to walk along the cold streets of the city.

Betty groaned.

"Baby, all they serve there are smoothies – that's _not_ lunch!" she protested to Daniel.

"One shake's my breakfast, lunch and sometimes dinner," Marc smirked as she rolled her eyes.

Daniel sighed at the two of them.

"You know, usually _I'm_ the immature one. I can't believe I have to play referee between you guys again," he shook his head in disbelief. Some things would never change. "I'm sure I remember a deli somewhere on our way. We can split a sub, then get smoothies at Pinkberry and take everything back to your dad's, okay?" he offered a solution, and pleaded with Betty to comply.

"Okay . . ." she reluctantly smiled and softly but briefly kissed his lips.

"Ugh! Must I endure more of your disgusting displays? It was bad enough when you two were still working at MODE . . ." Marc complained, secretly loving it. He had been tired of dropping hints and was glad they'd finally figured out the obvious.

Betty smiled at Daniel before turning back to Marc.

"Face it, Marc. You know you love us," she teased, affectionately attacking Marc from the side.

"I do _not_ . . ." he half-heartedly protested, eventually allowing a content smile to form on his face. ". . . So I heard from Mandy, and I guess she's spending Christmas with Tyler, back in London?" Marc mentioned to Betty as they walked arm-in-arm, slightly ahead of Daniel.

"Wait! What?" Daniel took a step twice as large to keep up with them.

"Did you know about this?" Daniel asked Betty, knowing how close-knit she and Amanda were.

"No! Daniel, I swear – I would've told you if I did," Betty insisted.

"_Oh, for the love of Prada!_ Don't ruin your weird little paradise over it! This is exactly why Mandy didn't say anything – I should've kept my gorgeous lips shut . . ." Marc tried to calm them down.

"So that rules out Tyler . . ." Daniel muttered.

"You mean you thought _he_ did this?" Betty turned to him, shocked.

"Oh, come on Betty! You have to admit that his apology was a little too easy –" Daniel pointed out.

"So one minute you want to call him and make amends and the next you're accusing him of killing five innocent people?" Betty questioned him. "I hate to think what you really think of _me_ sometimes, considering how bi-polar you apparently are!" she irritably looked at Daniel.

"_What? _And since when were you all Team Tyler, anyway?" Daniel wondered, pissed at her non-chalant attitude, in light of what had just happened. "The guy drugged you and practically raped you and now you're his biggest cheerleader? I thought you'd at least be concerned for our friend, if you're not concerned for yourself!" he accused her.

"Stop it! _Stop the madness!_" Marc dramatically came between them. "I hate seeing you guys fight over nothing! You two are the reason I still believe in _love_ . . . okay that's not true, but it sounded _fabulous!_" he satisfyingly grinned, complimenting himself. "Anyway, if you should be upset with anyone, it should be Mandy. But I honestly don't think she deserves it either. Tyler's obviously innocent in all this. Give him a break, people! And go back to your sick lovey-dovey ways before I have something to feel guilty about!" Marc reasoned with them.

Daniel and Betty looked at the ground, remorsefully.

"Don't just stand there! _Kiss_ – _hug_ – make your nerdy inside jokes that no one normal understands . . ." Marc desperately pleaded.

"I - I'm sorry. It threw me when you assumed Tyler was the bomber . . . I just thought you were coming around to the idea of him being your brother. I haven't forgotten what he did to me – I don't think I ever will. But like I've told you before, that doesn't mean I won't forgive him – or that you shouldn't either," Betty apologized to Daniel.

It just seemed like they were having the same fight over and over again. She wished Daniel would accept his brother so that the controversy between them would finally end.

"I'm sorry, too. I know I said it didn't bother me that you're okay with Tyler – or getting there. And I know I was leaning toward wanting that too. But it's been a long day and I'm just worried about you and my family and the company. And the first person who popped into my mind _was_ Tyler. I know I didn't think that with the first incident after Matt was arrested, but he was helping the police so I figured he wouldn't risk it," Daniel admitted.

"Oh, Daniel . . ." Betty sympathized.

" . . . I guess I got scared . . . and paranoid. I wanted an excuse not to forgive him. I thought maybe he came over to apologize so we wouldn't suspect him. But I realized he couldn't have really done anything all the way in London, anyway. . . Whoever's doing this means business. And Matt's in jail, so he's not a possibility either . . ." Daniel explained, pulling Betty close to him.

"Unless he has someone on the outside working for him . . ." Marc guessed.

Betty gave him a puzzled look.

"No . . . You don't think Matt's still trying to cause trouble, do you?" she looked at Daniel for his opinion.

Daniel merely shrugged, not surprised about anything at this point.

"That'd mean he was involved in the wrong issue being shipped out – I don't think he had any idea of the meaning behind it. It doesn't make any sense," Betty calculated the facts.

"I don't know, either. But they've gotta be stopped before anyone else gets hurt or killed," Daniel said, determined to make things right again. "I'm placing extra security everywhere. And Marc - you, Wilhelmina, and my mom are going to have personal bodyguards. Betty – you, too," he insisted.

"_Me?_ . . . Okay, I have no problem with that, I guess – as long as _you_ have one," she maintained.

Daniel started to object when Betty finished.

"Have you forgotten that you landed in the hospital with a major brain injury because someone intentionally switched your meds? And we don't know whether Matt's still behind this or not. If _I_ have to have a bodyguard, _you_ need one," she reasoned.

"You've got a point," Daniel agreed.

"I'll get us all bodyguards until this whole thing is over – even your family and the rest of mine," he decided.

"It's really that bad, isn't it?" Marc looked at them.

Daniel nodded.

"Someone's out to get my family, the company, and the people I care about. It's clear they'll stop at nothing to get what they want – whatever that is. I don't think anyone we know is safe, anymore," he sighed, as Betty glanced worriedly at him while taking both his and Marc's hands.


	19. Chapter 19

_Thank you so much for your responses and for still reading - it means a lot! I finally have the next chapter up - it's mostly fluff, but I thought our couple could use some, considering. Enjoy! :)_

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"_Betty_ . . . is this really necessary? I can't even go to the bathroom without this guy tailing me! I feel like I'm wearing that ankle bracelet again," Ignacio complained.

"Papi, you're exaggerating. I know it's a little inconvenient having someone following you everywhere, but it's better for you to be safe and annoyed than hurt," Betty reasoned with her father.

"I'm sorry, Ignacio. I know this is a pain, but after the explosion with Marc and the printing guys, I couldn't take any more chances. Until we catch whoever's doing this, we're all going to have to deal with some changes," Daniel apologized.

"It's okay, Daniel. I understand and I appreciate your concern for us. I just hope we can catch this creep before I go out of my mind," Ignacio half-joked.

"I don't know what you're talking about Grandpa – I feel like Joe Jonas, having a bodyguard following me around. All my friends are uber jealous!" Justin disagreed as he walked in the room.

"I have to agree with you, sweetie – I feel like such a celebrity. Take _that_, Gina Gambaro!" Hilda chimed in as she entered the kitchen, carrying multiple shopping bags.

"I don't know, you guys. I'm gonna have to side with Ignacio on this one. It's like havin' a parole officer watchin' your every move – so I've heard," Bobby added his opinion.

"Guys, this isn't a joke – this is serious. Someone is out to get everyone at MODE and anyone associated with them. So if it makes you feel better to pretend you're a celebrity, fine. But just remember to be careful. We have no idea what this person is going to do next," Betty warned them.

"Betty's right. This isn't a game. I'm not saying we have to stop living our lives, but just be a little more cautious and let our bodyguards do their jobs, okay?" Daniel added.

"Hey, as long as I can still make it to the after Christmas sale at Bloomingdale's, I'll be on my best behavior," Hilda replied.

"Me, too," Justin agreed.

"Do they have any leads yet?" Ignacio asked. "

Well, they did find a white gold hoop earring near the scene, but it could've been anyone's . . . Oh! They also found a tube of lipstick that forensics is looking into," Daniel answered.

"That's a start, I guess," Bobby said, hopefully.

"Yeah, except there aren't any suspects to compare the evidence to," Betty pointed out.

"What about all of those enemies Wilhelmina must have? Victoria Beckham must've been pretty pissed at her after she made her wear that hideously unflattering bridesmaid dress – or Fabia – they fought over St. Patrick's Cathedral – or what about Mrs. Meade? She's got a lot of backstabbing bitches for friends," Justin suggested.

"_Justin – language!_" Hilda scolded.

"Sorry Mom, but it's true. What about Victoria Hartley or Liz Smith - or any one of her prison buddies?" he continued.

"Those are all good ideas, but I'm not sure any of them really have enough motive to do something this drastic," Betty told him.

"Yeah, I've been racking my mind, but I can't think of anyone who'd want to destroy us that badly," Daniel said.

"Well, let's hope the police can figure this out soon. But for now, I say we concentrate on the holiday," Ignacio recommended.

"Yeah, I've gotta go upstairs and wrap these before anyone gets into them – and yes, Papi, I mean _you_!" Hilda light-heartedly scolded.

"What? I just want to make sure you aren't giving me one of those damn musical ties or a reindeer sweater again . . ." Ignacio innocently shrugged as the rest of his family judgingly stared.

Hilda shook her head.

"You're gonna regret that tomorrow when you find out what we got you this year," Hilda warned and gave Betty and Daniel a secretive look.

"Did you boys give Rosie her bath?" she asked Bobby and Justin.

"She was sleeping – we didn't want to wake her," Bobby replied. "Yeah, and I had math homework," Justin adds.

"Justin Michael Suarez I happen to know you didn't have any homework over break. You were watching that holiday episode of 'Best & Worst Dressed Celebrities' on Fashion TV, weren't you?" she admonished.

Justin hung his head in admittance.

"And Roberto Christian Telercio – you can't even pay attention to our daughter for a couple of hours? Ay! Que es tu problema?" Hilda berated as she stormed up the stairs with Justin and Bobby close behind, spouting off more excuses to her.

"I'd better go make sure Hilda doesn't kill those two. Honestly, Rosalina was sleeping the entire time – and I know from experience never to wake a sleeping baby. You girls were terrors," Ignacio fondly remembered as he headed up the stairs.

"So . . . turns out you weren't _always_ a good little girl," Daniel teased.

"I was a baby – that doesn't count," Betty pointed out.

"I guess not . . . Hey, look where we're standing," he pointed up to the frame between the kitchen and family room.

"Mistletoe . . . well rules are rules and being a good girl, I have to behave . . ." she joked while cupping the back of his neck, bringing his head down to hers for a slow, ardent kiss.

"I hung that there on purpose, you know?" he grinned.

"You naughty boy . . .!" she playfully scolded.

"Hey, I thought we should experience our first real mistletoe kiss," he excused.

"Not like the awkward pecks on the cheek or forehead at the office Christmas parties?" she remembered.

Daniel knowingly smiled.

"True, it _is_ our first Christmas together. But I'll still have to teach you a lesson for your sneakiness . . ." she said before kissing him again.

"Mmm . . . if this is my punishment, I could stand here all day," he smiled.

"That seems like an appropriate penalty for your misbehavior," she agreed, capturing his lips once more, deepening the kiss as they fell into the moment, forgetting everything that was wrong in their lives if only for a few minutes.

"Are you two ever gonna come up for air?" Hilda asked, staring at them in disgust.

"What do you think?" Daniel muttered into her lips.

"Just ignore her – she's in a mood," Betty mumbled back and continued to enjoy the closeness between them.

"You're gonna need an oxygen tank if you don't pry yourselves from each other soon . . ." Hilda remarked before grabbing a sugar cookie and leaving.

They both snickered.

"What flavor of lip gloss do you have on?" Daniel wondered, running his tongue across his lips.

"Berry Mintmas," Betty replied.

"Clever, and it tastes really . . . good . . ." he indulged himself again.

"I could get you a tube, if you want?" she flirted. Daniel chuckled softly into her ear.

"I think if I want some, I know exactly where to find it . . ." he whispered before separating her lips with his tongue, delving deeper into the warmth of her mouth.

"Mmmm . . . Baby . . . as much as I love this, maybe we should do something more . . . productive?" Betty suggested, reluctantly breaking away.

"Like . . .?" he sighed.

"Like wrapping presents – it _is_ Christmas Eve . . ." she said.

"Wait – didn't you have everything we got this week gift-wrapped already?" he assumed, confused.

"No. Why would I do that, when it's more fun and cheaper to wrap everything ourselves?" she said.

"Well, maybe I'll just watch you do it . . ." he replied.

"Oh, no - you're not getting out of this that easy, Meade! Just because you've been a pampered prince doesn't mean you're going to make me do all the work. I'm not your assistant anymore – you're doing your share," Betty insisted.

"Umm . . . Babe, what if I told you I've never wrapped a present in my entire life?" Daniel told her, embarrassed.

"Then I'd say you've got a lot of learning to do – come on!" she dragged him up the stairs to her old room.

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"Now, the first thing is to see how much paper you'll need. Let's start with a box, since they're easier to wrap," she pulled a Bergdorf's box out of the multiple shopping bags.

"Roll out the paper and put the box face-down on it," Betty told him.

"Okay, what now?" Daniel asked.

"Fold the paper until it covers the top of the box then tightly roll it and the box over until it's completely covered," she demonstrated.

"Who taught you how to do this so well? Justin? He's always been good with artsy stuff," he wondered.

"No . . . My mom," she gave a bittersweet smile.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad again," he apologized.

"No. It's okay. It's good to remember her . . . She taught me when I was seven. And now I can pass it on to you," she squeezed his hand.

"I think my dad was teaching me and Alex about bank accounts back then," he chuckled. "Not exactly a kid's idea of entertainment – especially at Christmas," he chuckled.

"No . . ." Betty smiled and sympathetically pecked his cheek, gently bumping her forehead against his temple before going back to the gift.

"Alright, make a tiny slit with the cutter just about where the paper overlaps at the bottom – that's your place-marker for where you need to cut the paper," she instructed.

"Okay," he watched her.

"Now just unwrap the box and cut the paper where the marker is," she handed him the cutter.

Daniel cut a jagged, crooked line that went everywhere.

"Didn't you learn how to cut a straight line in kindergarten?" Betty teased.

"I think I must've been sick that day," he defended himself.

"Yeah. Right," she snickered and placed her hand on top of his.

"Here. Pull the paper tight so it doesn't wrinkle and just push the cutter straight across," she physically guided him through the process. "There! Lucky for us you left us a little extra to work with," she smiled, turning her head toward his.

"At least I did something right – even if it was a mistake. But I will say that being a screw-up has its perks - I get to work extremely close with a beautiful woman," he seductively kissed her neck.

"_Daniel_ . . . focus!" she half-heartedly reprimanded.

"Oh, _okay_ . . . What's next?" he relented.

"We have to measure and trim the top side . . . Fold the paper so it covers a little over the end then let it go and cut the opposite side, close to the edge of the box," she motioned for him to cut.

Daniel repositioned himself at angle to cut the other end, resting on his shins and forearm, bending over.

Betty found herself absently staring at his firm backside as he trimmed the paper.

"Babe? Earth to Betty . . . You know, I was thinking about buying a big fish tank and filling it with deadly flesh-eating piranhas . . ." Daniel tried to bring her back to the present.

"What? Oh, that's great, baby," she blithely answered.

"Betty – you just agreed to us having multiple killer-fish as pets. You were staring at my ass, weren't you?" he playfully accused.

"No I wasn't . . . Okay, maybe I was. But only because it happened to be in my direct line of view . . . and because it's a very nice one . . ." she flirted.

"See, you can't blame me for getting off task when the teacher can't even maintain her focus," he smirked.

"Just get over here before I give you a time out," she snapped, trying to hide a smile.

Daniel obeyed, and moved beside her again.

"So the next step is to center the box on the paper then fold the left side over the box and use the clear tape to attach it to the box . . . Make sure the paper is tightly wrapped around the box before you bring the other side over and pull it tight – but not so tight you tear it," she warned just before Daniel did it.

"Now, tape that side and then on both sides of where you just taped it," she directed.

"Okay, what now?" he said.

"Fold the top side down and press it against the box, tape it, then make creases where the paper is bent . . . Now fold those tabs so they make a point and then tape it down," she showed him then handed him the package so he could fix the other end.

"So is this right?" Daniel asked, forming the paper into a point then folding it over the end of the package.

"Good. Here's a tip: See how there's a little extra? Fold the point down a little before you tape it," she guided him.

"Like this?" he looked at her, unsure.

"Yep. Perfect. Now just put a piece of tape on it. And if the sides are loose, tape them too," she advised.

"You're a tape-freak," he laughed, taping the end and setting the finished package off to the side.

"I _am not_ – I just want the paper to stay on," Betty defensively maintained, taping his mouth shut.

"Ow!" Daniel peeled the tape from his mouth.

"Yeah, so it never comes off again," he cracked and stuck it on hers.

Glaring at him, Betty ripped it off.

"Okay – now you're gonna get it!" she tackled him and began to tickle him.

"_Betty!_ Stop!" he laughed before rolling on top of her, tickling her.

"Ahh . . .! _Daniel_ . . ." Betty giggled as they continued to roll on the floor in laughter, unknowingly taking the wrapping paper with them.

"Baby . . . I think we're stuck," Daniel concluded. Betty tried to wiggle her way out.

"I think you're right . . ." she agreed. "Go that way," she pointed with her head.

"This way?" he rolled in the opposite direction.

"Babe, I just said – _this_ way," she attempted to point again just as Justin knocked and peeked his head through the cracked door.

"What's with all the noise? What are you guys doing?" he gave them a puzzled look.

"Just, uh, doing some wrapping, buddy . . ." Daniel told him.

"Right . . . UD! I'm not five anymore," he smirked and started to walk out.

"Wait! Justin – help us . . ." Betty pleaded.

"Sorry, AB! I think this is something you guys have to figure out on your own," he snickered and left.

She banged her head down on the carpeted floor in frustration.

"I can't believe my nephew thought we were – you know – for anyone to see . . ." she groaned.

"Hey, he's going to be my nephew too, and that's not the kind of example I want to set. But in this case we were fully clothed and weren't doing anything but having a tickle fight," Daniel assured her.

"You're right – we weren't doing anything. Plus, he's a 16 year-old boy. He probably already has a dirty mind . . . Okay – back to our dilemma. I'm leading this time, because we got nowhere when you did," she sighed.

"Hey, we were doing perfectly fine until Justin came in," he protested.

"Daniel, just go!" she giggled, pushing him in the correct direction.

They tumbled over and unwound from the wrapping paper.

"Finally . . .!" Betty exclaimed.

"What? Are you saying you weren't happy being trapped with me?" Daniel feigned offense.

"Baby, I'll get trapped with you any day," she caressed his cheek.

"I love you," he grinned.

"I love you, too," she stared in his blue eyes. He gently brushed her lips with his.

"You know, this wrapping thing is pretty fun," he admitted.

"Really? You think you're ready for bows and double-stick tape this time?' she eagerly asked.

"Later," he told her, reaching up to shut and lock the door.

"I'm not ready to graduate yet. I think I need some more one-on-one interaction," he deviously wriggled his eyebrows, seductively nibbling her ear.

"Mmm . . . well I guess a little more practice couldn't hurt . . ." she said, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Merry Christmas, Daniel," she smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Betty," he lovingly kissed her lips.


	20. Chapter 20

_Thank you for all the great comments! I know it's been a while, but here's the next chapter. Just a warning, it gets a tad bit violent in the end . . ._

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"You're really obsessed with this blindfold thing aren't you," Daniel mused, as Betty led him through their house back in London.

"No more than you and your high-fives," she countered. "Now stop messing with it or I'll have to tie your hands behind your back," she playfully threatened.

"Am I the only one who doesn't see that as a bad thing?" he flirted.

"_Daniel_ . . . Come on, we're almost there," she pleaded.

"Fine," he conceded, reaching for her arm as he ran into a step.

"Okay, you can take it off – and I mean the blindfold . . ." she caught him before he even had a chance to try.

"You know, you take all the fun out of everything," he good-naturedly complained.

"Well if that's how you feel then maybe I won't give you my Christmas present . . ." her hands stopped him from removing the cloth over his eyes.

"No – I'll be good – I promise," he assured her.

"Alright. Now, even though this is mostly for you, you have to promise to share . . ." she told him.

"Promise," he said.

"Good. Here, open your eyes," she commanded, pulling off the blindfold.

"Oh . . . my . . . god! Betty, this is amazing!" Daniel exclaimed in awe.

"I'm glad you like it," she beamed, leading him farther into the elaborate game room complete with built-in dark cherry bookshelves, wet bar, and a pool table with the Harvard crest printed on the felt. A stylish but still comfortable leather sectional sat in the gaming console/movie area, along with a 52" 3D LED TV and Blu-ray player.

"I _love_ it . . . I love _you!_" his smile grew wider and wider as he threw his arms around her.

"How did you manage to get this all done – we were gone?" he asked.

"I asked Amanda to house-sit for us – check-in to make sure the workers did what they were being paid double to do," she smiled.

"I'm guessing Tyler was with her?" he assumed.

"Probably, but I thought you were starting to get past that? And he obviously didn't do any harm while they were here . . ." she pointed out.

"You're right - I'm being stupid. This room is incredible and I'm glad Amanda . . . and Tyler were able to help us out," he begrudgingly admitted.

"You replaced all my movies . . ." he noticed with a bittersweet smile.

"I told you I would – and they're on Blu-ray now, so better quality," she replied.

"Thank you . . . so, you wanna try out some of my new toys?" he excitedly grinned.

"Sure! But first, I've got one more I think you're gonna like," she said, going behind the bar and picking up a black Fender acoustic guitar signed by Jon Bon Jovi.

"Are you serious? Betty, how did you find this?" he asked, stunned as he admired his new instrument.

"I'm _just that good_ . . . well . . . and so is Ebay," she joked. "I did have to fight this crazy bidder on there who wouldn't back down . . . nyc_stud96? The guy was insane!" she added.

"_You're_ queensbttrfly84?" he said, shocked.

"That was _you?_" she exclaimed.

"Yeah - if I had known, I wouldn't have dared to mess with you – you never give up on _anything!_" he teased.

"Apparently neither do you . . . But more importantly, we could've saved a lot of money - $1,500 for a guitar? It was only $850 when everyone else quit," she good-naturedly laughed.

"Oh, well. The important thing is you're happy," she smiled.

"Very . . ." he grinned. "You know what makes me even happier?" he carefully put down the guitar and slyly inched closer to her.

"What?" she played coy.

"You . . ." he said, kissing her lips fully, firmly, as he pulled her into him, eliminating the remaining space between them.

"Mmmm – you know what'd make me happy?" she commented between kissed.

"What?" Daniel mumbled, grazing his teeth along her neck.

"A song . . ." she looked expectantly at him.

"R-Right now?" he nervously asked. "Mmm-hmm!" she said.

"Baby, I haven't picked up a guitar in a while – _at least_ not since I moved here," he told her.

"It's okay, I'm not asking for perfection. I've just never heard you play before," she assured him.

"I don't think you want to right now – give me some time to practice . . . maybe look up how to play some new songs and I promise I'll let you hear them," he said.

"Okay," she agreed, a little disappointed.

"But for now, we can listen to people who aren't out of practice . . ." he suggested, turning on the stereo and pushing play on his IPod. He offered her his hand as Bruno Mars' "Marry You" began to play. He spun her around, causing her to giggle.

"_Is it the look in your eyyes? . . . Or is it this daancing juuice? . . . who caares, baby? . . . I think I wanna marry youu . . ._" Daniel sang along, pulling her toward him.

"Is this a hint?" she flirted.

"It's more than a hint. I can't wait 'til I can call you my wife," he whispered in her ear.

"I can't believe we have to wait six more months . . ." she said.

"I know – it seems like a lifetime away," he agreed.

"Remind me why I picked June?" she sighed.

"Because Hilda, Justin, Elena, and Amanda all insisted you should choose the most popular wedding season, since we're 'celebrities'," he shook his head and dipped her.

"Right . . . Not that I'm complaining about the time or the venue – I can't believe your mother insists on paying for everything but the rehearsal dinner . . . but I just wish we didn't have to wait so long," she pouted.

"Me, too," he agreed, then his eyes lit up.

"What if we got married tonight? Just the two of us – no one else would have to know – we'll still have the big ceremony, but this would be for us?" he suggested.

"That sounds amazing . . . and completely romantic - but we can't – you know that . . . it would break my father's heart – and your mother's, too," she reasoned with him.

"But they'd never have to know –" he insisted, before Betty touched her fingers to his lips.

"Do you honestly believe we'll be able to keep it a secret for seventy or eighty years?" she asked before lightly kissing him.

"Probably not," he chuckled, then matched her kiss with another.

"Then I think we'll have to stick it out . . . Look at the bright side – we've basically done everything but make it official. And we don't have to wait for the wedding night . . ." she whispered, flicking his earlobe with her tongue, trailing kisses along his jawline.

Daniel shifted his head and captured her lips as her hands roamed over his ass.

"You've made some very good points . . . And I think we suffered long enough in that department . . ." he added, backing her against the pool table and lifting her up on the edge.

"Definitely . . ." she agreed, wrapping her legs around his waist and peeling his sweater off.

"Ow!" she exclaimed after her head knocked into one of the pendant lights.

"You okay?" Daniel asked, kissing the top of her head.

"Yeah. Umm . . . Baby? As much fun as this might be . . . mmm . . . don't you think we'd be more . . . mmm . . . comfortable in a bed?" Betty suggested between kisses.

Daniel carefully pulled her blouse over her head as he pondered her proposal.

"Well, I did practically . . . ahh . . . throw my back out . . . mmm . . . the last time on the floor . . . but there is no bed," Daniel answered while continuing to let Betty's hands and lips wander freely along his body.

She fumbled for a remote without breaking from Daniel's embrace.

"And you say you know me . . ." she breathlessly teased, pushing a button to unveil a well-disguised Murphy bed.

"What the hell? Next you'll show me a hidden bookcase, revealing a secret passageway," he marveled, helping her down and admiring the cleverly concealed contraption.

"Actually, it's a bathroom - but never underestimate the powers of an intelligent woman," she satisfyingly smirked, opening up the two bookcases.

"This is insane! Did you study some of my movies or something?" he grinned.

"Let's just say I know a thing or two about 'Sherlock Holmes' and 'James Bond' . . ." she playfully raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Then I guess you know how much Bond loves his beautiful women?" Daniel slyly grinned, picking Betty up and laying her sideways on the bed.

"Just as long as I'm the one who tames him . . ." she flirted, pulling him down to her.

"There's no one he'll ever want more . . ." he promised, kissing his way down to her jeans, before removing them.

"Better not be," she teased, flipping him over and unbuckling his belt.

"Never," he devilishly grinned as she started to slide off his jeans.

". . . Good," she captured his mouth and they tumbled over each other, until it appeared the earth literally moved.

"What was that? Babe, do you feel something moving?" Betty asked.

"Baby, if you have to ask that question then you're obviously not as into this as I thought you were," Daniel replied, oblivious.

"Not _that!_ I mean, I think the bed's moving – as in up?" she rolled her eyes at having to spell it out for him.

"Oh . . . _Oh!_" he finally let it trigger his mind as the bed proceeded to slowly move up towards the space in the wall.

"Where's the remote?" she frantically asked.

"I don't know – I thought you had it?" he said.

"Noooo . . ." she huffed, and quickly tried to search the covers, simultaneously trying to prevent herself from sliding down the bed.

"We're gonna get smashed!" she whined when her attempts to defy gravity failed.

"Shh . . . it's okay – it's gotta be here somewhere . . ." he attempted to calm her down. "Ah - found it!" he exclaimed just before the bed rose all the way up.

"Oh my god . . ." Daniel laughed, relieved.

"Yeah . . ." Betty giggled. "Okay – the remote is going far away from this bed!" she insisted, putting it on a shelf.

"Good idea. Now bring your sexy body back over here – I'm not finished with you . . ." he playfully commanded.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Bond," she smiled, obeying his order.

"Actually it's Meade – Daniel Meade. Happily engaged millionaire - former playboy, with a license to thrill," he corrected her.

"Wow, your fiancée must be one special girl," she giggled, stroking his chest as she continued to play along.

"She definitely is . . ." he said, enveloping her lips in a deep, fervent kiss as he fumbled to unhook her bra.

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"Mmmm . . . that was the best sleep I've had in weeks. You're definitely 'licensed to thrill', baby . . . you wore me out," Betty moaned, groggily waking up, eyes slowly opening.

"Babe, you awake?" she turned over and reached for him. "Baby?" she called, after discovering he wasn't there. "You'd better not be taking a bubble bath in the new tub, without me . . ." she good-naturedly warned, getting up and looking in the bathroom to no avail. "Daniel?" Betty repeated, quickly putting on her clothes.

"Ryan? Colin? Have you seen Daniel?" she yelled to their bodyguards, running down the newly renovated winding staircase. "Oh my god! Who did this to you?" she exclaimed, finding both guards sprawled on the floor at the foot of the staircase. "Please be alive! Please be okay!" she pleaded to herself as she checked for their pulses.

"I wouldn't be so concerned with those two if I were you. They'll be fine by the time I'm gone. Your boy-toy on the other hand . . . well, let's just say he's all tied-up with nowhere to go but down," the young blonde woman evilly cackled, approaching Betty from behind.

"Who are you and what have you done with Daniel?" Betty demanded answers from the intruder.

"Let's just say I've come to avenge my mother's death and get what I've deserved for years," the woman replied. "As for your precious Daniel – he's right here, but not for long . . ." she grinned, leading Betty into another unfinished room of the home to reveal four thugs and a bound and gagged Daniel with a gun held to his head.

"Daniel!" Betty cried, horrified when she saw his brutally abused state and the threat of the cold steel pressing against his temple. She could see the fear in his piercing blue eyes, the fear for her life as well – but she didn't care. She couldn't lose him – no matter what the cost.

"Baby, I'm gonna get you out of this – I _swear_. I love you so much, just hold on," she promised, desperately trying to think of a way to save him.

Daniel looked at her with love, knowing it was impossible to stop her from doing anything she set her mind to.

"Please, Daniel didn't kill anyone! He didn't have anything to do with your mother's death!" she begged to the sinister woman.

"You're right, he didn't. But his mother murdered my mother. She took away any possibility of me knowing my own flesh and blood . . . of inheriting what's rightfully mine – MODE and part of the Meade fortune," the woman responded. "So I'm going to destroy what matters most to her – her darling boy and her beloved magazine," she sneered.

"No! Don't! We can work something out – I can call Claire for you right now – she'll give you whatever you want. Just please don't shoot Daniel!" she frantically bargained, realizing Fey and Bradford must have had an illegitimate daughter, after all.

"That's such a lovely gesture, but I think I'll stick with my original plan. You see, killing Daniel will be far more painful for Mommy Dearest than simply taking her business and all of her money," she dismissed Betty's offer.

"Because of that drunken cold-hearted bitch, I was forced to be raised by some poor, pathetic nobodies – never to be acknowledged for my deserved high-class heritage. Bradford wouldn't dare admit to his 'darling' Claire that he had created a lovechild with my mother," she bitterly scoffed.

"No . . . I think it's high time Claire Meade truly suffers for her crimes . . . Bruno – you know what to do," Fey's daughter told the man holding the gun.

"_No! Please! God, no!_" Betty desperately cried, rushing toward Daniel, clinging to him as hard as she could.

"Say goodbye to your little boyfriend, Betty," the young woman said as her goons pried Betty off of Daniel, kicking and screaming.

Betty managed to grab a loose board, leaning against the wall, and fight them off. She then jabbed Bruno in the crotch with it, stealing his gun. But before she could accomplish anything more, the malicious young blonde pulled out her own weapon and fired with perfect aim at Daniel's head.

"_Nooooooooooooo! Noooooooooooooooo! Daniel!_" Betty screamed and sobbed at the same time, throwing herself on Daniel's lifeless body.


	21. Chapter 21

_Thank you so much reading and for the reviews! :) I won't keep you in suspense any longer, lol . . ._

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"_Nooooo!_ Daniel you can't leave me. Baby, _pleeaaase_ . . . I love you so much . . ." Betty cried, as her heart shattered into a million pieces. "

You _BITCH!_ How could you do this? Daniel's innocent – h-he's your brother for god's sake!" she lashed out at Fey's daughter.

"Not anymore . . . pretty soon, he'll be fertilizer," the wretched woman coldly cracked.

"You'll pay for this – I swear!" Betty threatened.

"Keep telling yourself that, sweetie. But as you can tell – nothing will bring back the man you loved. Just like nothing will bring back my mother," the blonde harshly stated, leaving Betty to sob over Daniel until she was hoarse.

"Daaaanniel . . . . noooooo . . . noooooo . . ." she hopelessly wept.

"Hey . . . Betty, it's okay," she felt someone with a soothing voice trying to pull her away from Daniel.

"No, it's NOT okay! Get the hell off me! Nothing will ever be okay again!" she screamed, struggling to stay with her fiancé.

"Baby, wake up," Daniel tried to calm Betty from her nightmare.

She finally opened her eyes to discover Daniel alive and right beside her.

"Daniel? But you – y-you were . . ." she trailed off as tears of uncertainty streamed down her face.

"Shhh . . . Come here . . . Baby, I'm right here . . . I'm not going anywhere," Daniel promised, holding Betty close as he stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Daniel asked, after Betty quieted down.

She meekly shook her head, sniffling.

"Maybe later," she said, wanting to tell him but too shaken to rehash everything at the moment.

"Okay," he understood, kissing her cheek. "Here . . ." he said, throwing her his sweater and pulling on his jeans. "I know exactly what'll take your mind off of it . . ." Daniel grinned.

"What?" Betty curiously asked, putting his sweater on.

"The new 'Call of Duty'," he answered, dragging her out of bed.

"Babe, no. No guns – _please_. I-I can't take it right now," she protested.

"Okay. Sorry, I just thought shooting virtual bad guys would relieve some stress," he apologized. "How about 'Super Mario'? It's fun and takes you back to being a kid, right?" he suggested, picking it out of the shelf filled with games and movies.

Betty hesitated, unsure whether any game was going to be a big enough distraction.

"Come on, I'll even let you be Mario this time . . ." he coaxed, handing her a controller.

". . . Okay," she caved, figuring it couldn't hurt to try.

"Babe – watch out for that mushroom! Don't just stand there – jump! _Betty!_" Daniel anxiously yelled.

"That turtle guy came out of nowhere – I didn't have a chance to jump! I'm trying! Sorry, I'm not as good at this as you are . . ." she sighed as she continued to fight off yet another animated enemy.

"Yes . . . you are. You kicked that crazy dragon's ass the last time we played and took us to the highest level I've ever gotten on this thing," he reminded her, pausing the game.

"You're right - I'm just preoccupied . . . and hungry," she half-smiled.

"Well, then _I_ will go get us some breakfast . . . and a new distraction," he briefly kissed her lips, a mysterious twinkle in his eyes.

"What are you up to?" Betty eagerly perked up.

"Let's just say there's someone in this room who hasn't received her Christmas present yet," Daniel winked.

"Now strip!" he held out his hands.

"Excuse me?" she said, confused.

"I need my shirt back . . . unless you expect me to go out in 10-below weather like this. And honestly, not even football teams are worth it," he admitted.

"_You_ were one of those guys with the painted chests in the freezing cold?" she giggled, disbelievingly.

Daniel sheepishly cringed.

"Well, I guess I'm not too surprised . . . with Beckett Scott as your friend," she rolled her eyes and threw him his shirt.

"Hey, be nice – he's in the wedding party," he playfully warned, catching it.

"And will probably hit on every straight woman there, including the bridesmaids – two of whom are married and one who's in a committed relationship," she scoffed, searching for her clothes.

"Betty . . . don't you think you're over-exaggerating a little?" he says.

"Fifty bucks says he hits on Alexis," she confidently challenged.

"Really?" he chortled.

"Didn't _you?_" she teased, pulling her top over her head.

"How did you know that?" he asked, his eyes widening with shock and embarrassment.

"I have my sources . . . But back to our wager – 25 more says Becks _knowingly_ hits on her," she gambled, buttoning her jeans.

"Oh, come on, Betty. That's low. What happened to your open mind and positive attitude – seeing the good in everyone?" he asked.

"If Becks is anything like he was the last time I saw him, I'll be $75 richer," she smirked.

"But if he's lucky enough to find a smart, sassy, kind-hearted, gorgeous woman like I have, then you'll be in the hole and choking down feathers," he grinned, relishing the thought of it.

"Mmmm . . . we'll see," she sealed their bet with a kiss, refusing to back down.

"So what do you want me to get?" Daniel asked, getting back to the original topic.

"Do you really have to go?" she pleaded.

"Babe, as much as I would love to play video games and stare at your naked body all day, we've gotta eat. And . . . I can't wait any longer to give you your present," he smiled, nuzzling against her cheek.

"Daniel, I'm scared," Betty admitted.

"Of what – my gift?" he teased.

"No . . . of what could happen to you while you're gone," she explained.

"Betty, Ryan's going to be with me the whole time. He's a professional – not to mention a _really_ big dude. I'll be fine," Daniel assured her.

"He's not invincible . . ." she said, unsure.

"Is this about your dream? Because you seemed fine when we were in New York – well as fine as anyone's expected to be," Daniel assumed, leading her back to the couch.

The images of her nightmare vividly flashed back in her mind, causing her to shudder. She inhaled a deep breath and prepared to rehash the horrid dream.

"I-I woke up and you were gone . . . Ryan and Colin were at the foot of the stairs - knocked-out and drugged . . . and you had been brutally abused and were tied-up and gagged . . . with a gun to your head," she said, her voice wavering as she hugged her knees.

"Wow . . . by whom?" he wondered.

"By one of her thugs – Fey's daughter," Betty elaborated.

"Amanda?" Daniel said in disbelief.

"No . . . not Amanda – your half-sister," she corrected him.

"Wait – you dreamed that my dad and Fey Somers actually _did_ have a kid?" he shook his head.

"But it gets worse – she wanted to kill you to get back at your mom . . . I tried to stop her – I tried so hard . . ." she began to cry again. "I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry, baby . . ." she broke down.

"Hey . . . Babe, you have _nothing_ to be sorry for – it was just a dream," Daniel reassured her, wiping away her tears.

"I know, but it was so _real_. And what if something else _does_ happen? What if you _do_ have a crazy half-sister out there? It makes sense when you think about it," she maintained.

"I don't know, Betty. I think the creative writer in you is kicking in," Daniel skeptically disagreed.

"Daniel, I know it's a long-shot and I know you're trying everything not to blurt out that I'm a lunatic for even slightly believing it could be true, but why would this pop into my head out of nowhere? Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something," Betty analyzed.

"You're not a lunatic . . . maybe a little too imaginative sometimes – but you're not a lunatic," he chuckled.

"_Hey!_" she lightly jabbed him. He briefly kissed her lips in an apology then took a moment to process her theory.

"It _would_ explain everything . . ." he admitted.

"Exactly! The sabotage of the holiday issue with Fey's famous sleigh ride, the explosion at the printer, and we know it was a woman because of the earrings and lipstick - it all fits," she said.

"Yeah . . . except for the part where I have a long-lost sister," he agreed. "You have a long lost brother – stranger things have happened," she pointed out.

"I guess – I mean my dad did have an affair with Fey, so it wouldn't be impossible if they had had a secret child out of it . . ." he conceded.

"They even had a hidden sex room – so my guess is there were plenty of opportunities for 'accidents' to happen," Betty added.

"They had a _what?_" Daniel said, shocked.

"A sex room – behind The Closet in MODE, there was a hidden room with a bed and a ton of Fey's belongings, toys . . . That's where Amanda found her diary," she told him.

"Why didn't I ever know about this?" he asked, irritated.

"I don't know . . . it just never came up. What was I supposed to do – slip it in over a cup of coffee? 'Hey, Daniel? By the way, did you know your dad and Fey Somers had their own private sex lair?'" she defended herself.

"I guess it probably was a touchy subject . . . I know this is stupid, but it makes me even more pissed at him. He spent all those years judging me and scolding me for 'improper' work ethics and _he_ couldn't even keep it in his pants 'til he got to a hotel or Fey's apartment – he had a _room_ built," Daniel clenched his fists.

"Daniel, calm down before you do something you'll regret. I know how angry you must be at your father's hypocrisy. But you can't let it consume you. Besides, aren't you glad you stopped your player ways? I think your dad was right, he just thought he was the exception to his own rule," she told him.

"I know . . . Say I _do_ have a sister out there – how would we even go about proving it?" Daniel considered.

"I doubt the police would help, since there's no evidence that A – she exists, and B – that she's connected with these crimes . . . But what about a private investigator? They'd probably have some way of searching birth records or something, right?" Betty suggested.

"That's a great idea – if she does exist, we'd know and could at least go from there," Daniel said.

"So you're really going with me on this?" she timidly asked.

"I'm not saying it's not insane, but we're not getting any other leads so what do we have to lose?" he said.

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"Hey, baby, I'm back," Daniel called, with a coffee holder and a bag of bagels in his hands.

"Oh, thank god you're okay!" Betty put the remote down and rushed over to greet him, throwing her arms around him.

"I told you I'd be fine," he smiled and pecked the top of her head, before carefully maneuvering the food down on the bar as she continued to hold him tight.

"I know, I just worry about you. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you . . ." she said, still clinging to him.

"That will _never_ happen," Daniel promised, rubbing the small of her back.

After a few minutes, Betty lifted her head from his chest, puzzled.

"What's that noise? You'd better go check on Colin and Ryan!" she panicked, hearing banging and whimpering sounds.

"Oh, they're fine – trust me. But there _are_ a couple of little guys I'd like you to meet . . ." Daniel said, going out into the hallway.

He came back with two Cavalier King Charles spaniel puppies with red and green bows around their necks; one was Blenheim and the other tri-colored.

"Merry Christmas, Betty," he grinned, seeing the expression on her face.

"Oh my god . . . Daniel, they're adorable!" she exclaimed, half-crying as she picked the Blenheim one up.

"I knew you always wanted a dog and I read two are better than one, so I figured we could each have one," he shrugged.

"Papi insisted they were too much trouble and responsibility . . . Thank you!" she beamed, trying to control the squirming puppy in her arms.

"Wow, he's feisty," she giggled as he let out a small yip.

"Maybe we should call him Sparky?" Daniel suggested.

"Sparky . . . it's perfect," she smiled and traded puppies with him. "If I had a girl puppy, I always wanted to name her Princess Daisy, since I loved daisies and knew I'd love her even more," she remembered, as the sweet tri-colored puppy licked her fingers with its butterfly tongue.

"Wasn't that your code name that one time?" Daniel vaguely recalled.

"It stuck with me," she innocently shrugged. Daniel chuckled.

"Daisy's a great name," he agreed. "But if she's going to have a title, Sparky here says he's of equal royalty," Daniel joked.

"Of course he is – he's a prince . . . and so are you," Betty said, giving Daniel a soft loving kiss, before the puppies began to lick their faces. They both laughed, pressing their foreheads together.

"Hey, can't you see I'm trying to have some private time with my girl?" Daniel teased the puppies.

"I don't think they get the concept – do you, babies? No – you guys just want all of our attention," Betty said, cuddling with both Daisy and Sparky. "So what made you decide to get this breed?" she smiled, petting both dogs.

"Well, they _are_ the same breed an English king made famous – which I thought was fitting, since we're now in London. But I also read that they aren't extremely active dogs – and I figured that was good since we don't have a ton of time to take them to the park every day," he explained.

"Good choice – because they're the most adorable puppies I've ever seen," she grinned.

"I'm glad you're happy. Come on, let's eat before everything gets cold," Daniel suggested, kissing her temple.

"Do you have their crates? We probably shouldn't let them run around without keeping a close eye on them. Oh – and they'll need puppy food and beds and training pads and collars and treats and some chew toys -" Betty rambled.

"Baby, relax. Everything's out in the hallway – including your other gifts," he deviously smiled.

"There's more?" she says, surprised.

"What? You didn't think I'd let you show me up, did you?" he teased.

"_Daniel_ . . . this isn't a contest. You know I wouldn't care if you got me anything, as long as I have you," Betty told him.

"Okay . . . well I'll just take these little guys back . . ." he messed with her.

"Don't you dare!" she giggled, lightly smacking him. "You _and_ my new babies," she added, kissing the tops of the puppies' heads before putting them in their crates. "You're impossible – you knew what I meant," she grumbled, tugging him closer to her by his sweater.

"But that's why you love me," he flirted.

"I love you _in spite_ of it," she corrected him, her hand cupping the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips. "So what are these other gifts?" she asked, taking her coffee and a bagel.

"You'll see . . ." he mysteriously answered.

"You're no fun . . ." she pouted, taking a bite of her bagel. "So were you able to find a PI?" she wondered.

"Yeah, I called around and finally got ahold of Wilhelmina. I told her everything that's happened. It turns out her father knows this guy who'll start searching after New Year's," Daniel told her.

"You asked Wilhelmina Slater for help and she actually gave it to you?" Betty said, practically spitting out her mint mocha latte.

Daniel nodded.

"Of course I had to tell her it was in her best interest if we find something. And she proceeded to tell me I was a 'damn idiot for believing that delusional, run-of-the-mill fiancée of mine', but she said it was my money to 'throw in the incinerator' and gave me his number," he rolled his eyes and finished his bagel.

"Well at least she didn't refer to me as hideous this time – that's a couple of steps up," Betty cracked.

"Come on, Betty. You know how shallow she is. Besides you're far from average – you're gorgeous," he reminded her.

"I think you're a little biased . . . but if you believe it, that's all I need," she shyly smiled, affectionately bumping him as they sit on the bar stools.

"It's the truth," he maintained.

Even after all the time they had been together, he still managed to make her blush.

"You know I love you," she smiled.

"Always," he returned the smile, when the puppies began to whine. "I think they're tired of being cooped up," he chuckled. "Why don't you let them out, while I go get the rest of the stuff in the hallway?" he suggested, putting down his coffee.

"Okay," she agreed, letting Daisy and Sparky out of their cages. They scurried out to explore the room.

"What's that?" she asked observing the stainless steel frying pan with a red bow on it.

"It's part of your next present," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Really? 'Cause I thought maybe it was something I could use in the future – you know, in case I ever got extremely pissed at you," she teased.

"Maybe I'd better return this . . ." he laughed, grabbing it. Betty took the pan back from him.

"Nope. So . . . is it a new kitchen?" she guessed.

"Maybe . . . and maybe there's something else to go along with it . . ." he conspicuously responded.

"What?" she asked.

"You see the brand?" he pointed to the tag.

"Yeah . . ." she said

"Let's just say we're going to get private cooking lessons from a certain celebrity," he smiled.

"Rachael Ray? Shut _up!_" Betty excitedly shoved him. Daniel grinned.

"Yeah, turns out she wants to do a few episodes in London and I got her to give us some lessons while she's here . . . Of course, there is one tiny catch – _nah_ – you probably won't go for it . . ." he dismissed.

"What? What's the catch? Come on, Daniel – tell me!" she started poking him for an answer.

"Ow! Okay – we have to make a guest appearance on one of her episodes," he couldn't contain his smile any longer.

"_She_ wants _us_ on her show? SHUT _UP!_" she squealed, jumping up and down, then jumping on him.

"_That's_ the reaction I was waiting for!" Daniel chuckled.

"Really? Are you sure it wasn't this one?" she said, giving him a kiss that left him completely breathless.

"Th-that was even better," he stuttered.

"Thank you," she grinned.

"You're welcome, baby. I just hope your father doesn't kill me – you know, since this is his thing," Daniel worried.

"Oh, he'll be glad to foist me off on someone else. He gave up on me being a successful cook a long time ago," she laughed.

He chuckled.

"You know, there's a whole set of cookware out there – think it's safe to bring it in, now?" he joked.

"Daniel?" she asked, slightly perturbed.

"Yeah?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"Shut up," she smiled, kissing him again before the two puppies demanded their attention once more.


	22. Chapter 22

_It's been a while, but I'm back and determined to finish the fic. So, here's the next chapter and there will be more to come soon. Thank you so much for all of your comments - they're much loved! Enjoy! :)_

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"I'm so happy the kitchen's finished. It looks _amazing!_" Betty exclaimed for the tenth time since it had been completed. She leaned against the enormous island with pendent lighting admiring the forty-two inch dark cherry cabinets complete with crown molding and customized features such as pull out drawers and Lazy Susans, granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, a smooth cooktop, ceramic tile backsplash, and a spacious walk-in pantry.

"And now I actually know how to use it. Rachael Ray was in here – _Rachael Ray_. _She_ taught _me_ how to cook and we were on her show and we got a great interview for B.A.M. . . . I still can't get over it!" she excitedly marveled.

"I'm happy you're happy. And it _is_ nice to know we won't have to eat take out for the rest of our lives – that stuff's not the healthiest and I'm not as young as I used to be," he agreed, patting his stomach.

"Well, just don't get the idea that I'm the one who'll be doing all the cooking - she taught you, too," Betty warned, poking his belly.

"I didn't say that. I fully plan on trying out some stuff from her cookbook," Daniel promised, his arms encircling her waist.

"Good," she smiled, briefly kissing his lips.

"I don't mean to break the mood, but the PI called with some news," he said, taking her hands.

"Oh?" Betty curiously questioned.

"Yeah . . . she uh, she found a twenty-three year old woman in Scarsdale whose New York birth certificate stated she was Fey Somers' daughter. Her name's Addison Mitchell and she's still living there now. The only problem is that the father's name states 'unknown'," Daniel said.

"Oh my god! It's true? I didn't expect to be right about this. Wow . . ." she said, shocked.

"Yeah. Crazy, isn't it?" he agreed.

"So there's no proof she's your sister, though," Betty concluded.

"Or that she has any motive in all of this," he added.

"Unless . . . what if she doesn't need to be related? Take Amanda – she despised your mother for the longest time," Betty contemplated.

"True . . . I don't know. I guess we'll find out." he said, returning Leila's call to find out details on how to proceed.

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"So how are we going to do this?" Betty asked, after Daniel got off the phone.

He gently pulled her onto his lap as he sat on the sectional.

"Leila is going undercover as a new neighbor renting a house in Addison Mitchell's subdivision. She'll befriend her, grab a sample to test her DNA with mine - and hopefully with the earring and lipstick. Eventually, Leila will find out where Addison was the morning of the explosion. If we get enough evidence, we can submit it to the police," Daniel went over their plan.

"And if that doesn't work – or if the sample's not a match for any of this?" she played devil's advocate.

"Then we punt. This was already a longshot to begin with. But as you said – we're desperate." he replied.

"It's the only reason you're humoring me, isn't it?" she sighed.

"Hey, you're right so far . . . and desperation isn't the only reason . . ." he smiled.

"Yeah, I know – because you love me," she presumed.

"That, and it was a surefire way to get you to still sleep with me," he flirted, a twinkle in his eye.

"Daniel!" Betty berated him.

"What?" he boyishly grinned.

"You _know_ what! And since when have I ever withheld because you disagreed with me on something?" she questioned, agitated.

"Well, there was the one time –" he countered.

"That was _once_ – I do _not_ use sex as a weapon!" Betty maintained.

"Relax – I was just messing with you," Daniel said, kissing her cheek.

"I'm sorry – I'm nervous. I feel really bad about putting you through this. I mean, we're digging around your father's past hoping to find more skeletons. You could wind up with another secret sibling. I know how hard it's been accepting Tyler . . ." she apologized.

"But if we _do_ end up finding some solid evidence – even a strong lead – this could all be over and we could finally get back to living our lives and this will all be worth it," he pointed out.

"You're right. I don't know why I can't be more positive lately," she sighed.

"We've both been under a ton of stress. Don't worry about it. I'm sure my peppy Betty will make her appearance really soon," he smiled and held her close.

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It was five months later. Addison Mitchell's DNA had been tested and she was indeed Daniel's half-sister. Leila had found enough evidence for the police to convict her, including a bitter tape, confessing her resentment of the way her biological parents had treated her.

She was jealous of the way her siblings received attention and time in the spotlight while she was forced to sit in silence or have her trust fund revoked – money she wouldn't receive until she was thirty. Her adoptive father left when she was only five and her mother had died in a car crash, like Fey, a year ago.

Regardless of Addison's almost convincing pleas that she hadn't done anything, the DNA on the earring and lipstick matched up and that and the tape were enough to arrest her.

While they couldn't prove she was behind the MODE holiday issue switch, she would still be charged for the deaths of the five workers of Meade Publication's distribution department and the attempted murder of Marc St. James, which would put her behind bars for an extremely long time.

That should have lifted a huge weight off their lives, but Betty still didn't feel a hundred percent relieved. She tried to let it go and concentrate on the last-minute details of the wedding, which was approaching within only a month's time.

"I'm calling Amanda to make sure she can watch Daisy and Sparky while we're on our honeymoon. It'll be better than leaving them at a kennel for two weeks – two days will be bad enough. Plus, she'll love it – she hasn't had a dog around since poor Halston died," she told him, as the puppies slept in their crates.

"Just as long as you remind her that they're living, breathing beings – I wonder sometimes how that dog survived as long as it did," Daniel shook his head in disbelief.

"I'll make sure Tyler is around to supervise," she smiled.

"If he keeps them alive, I'll definitely be more inclined to forgive him . . ." he half-joked. "Oh! No chocolate, tomatoes, grapes, raisins, garlic, onions, salt, artificial sweetener, or beverages of any kind," he emphasized.

"Yes, Daddy," she teased. "I'll make sure they only get puppy food, water, and those treats they love," she said, picking up the phone.

"K – ask them to keep an eye on the house, too. I'm hoping construction and everything will be finished by then. I want to be able to completely move in there when we get back. I'm tired of not knowing where all my crap is," Daniel added.

Betty agreed.

A few minutes later, she plopped down on the couch and sighed.

"What happened? Did Amanda back out on you?" Daniel guessed by her mood.

Betty shook her head.

"I just have this weird feeling – like something's still not right. I mean, everything's falling into place now and it seems too good to be true. What were the odds of my nightmare becoming a reality, to some extent? And now the seed of our problems is locked up," she confessed.

"Baby –" he began.

"No - we have nothing to do but get married and live happily ever after. It doesn't seem possible. Something or someone should be stopping us right now, barricading us from moving forward and on with our lives together," Betty insisted.

"Why are you feeling this? Don't you believe we deserve to be happy?" Daniel tried to understand her anxiety.

"Of course I do – that's not it. I know we should be happy – I know we belong together – but why has everything been so hard for us? It's like every time we finally have some peace in our lives, someone or something tries to tear us apart – first Tyler, then Matt, then your long lost sister . . ." she explained her fears.

Daniel pulled her into a comforting hug.

"Hey . . . it's over, okay? We have nothing to worry about," he assured her.

"I hope so," Betty sniffled.

"I know so," Daniel told her.

She weakly smiled, still not completely convinced, but willing to let it go for Daniel's sake.

"I can't believe you're holding it together so well. When you found out about Tyler, you flipped out. You don't have to be tough for my sake. It's my fault you found out about Addison in the first place. If you're feeling angry or sad – anything – just let it out. I can take it. I want to help you through this," she said, slightly breaking away in order to see his face.

He pushed a lock of hair away from her eyes, adoringly gazing at her.

"I know you do, but that's just it – I don't feel anything. I'm numb. I guess after going through this before, I'm not surprised it happened again – especially not with my father. We all knew about his affair with Fey. Their having a child together wasn't nearly as unexpected as my mother's having one with Hartley," he admitted.

". . . I guess, in a way, it hurts that Addison didn't even meet me or my family before she tried to destroy us. But in another, I probably deserved it. I wasn't very welcoming to _Tyler_," Daniel reflected.

"True, but it didn't justify what he did to you – or me, by association. I don't know . . . I think you had every right to be upset with your mother – even a little leery of Tyler's intentions at first. But I think you took his showing up to mean more than it was. And jealousy definitely reared its ugly head between both of you," she laughed.

"I did go a little nuts over all the attention he was getting. And things really went too far in the end. I shouldn't have been so adamantly opposed to accepting him into the family. That's why I wish I had had a chance to do it right this time – with Addison. Maybe all those people wouldn't have lost their lives . . . Marc wouldn't have been traumatized . . . Mom and Wilhelmina wouldn't have taken a loss on the magazine . . ." he confessed.

"You didn't know. And this wasn't your fault – you were pre-judged, stereotyped. We both have an inkling what that's like - look at when we met. I was the ugly, klutzy assistant who didn't appear to have any promise in the fashion world. You were the rich playboy who didn't seem to be concerned with anything but spending his father's fortune and sleeping with any beautiful woman he ran into," Betty pointed out.

"There was definitely more to both of us than people saw," he agreed.

"Exactly. And Addison didn't take the time to get to know you first. If she had seen the amazing man I came to love, I guarantee she wouldn't have done what she did. And Tyler wouldn't have, either," she said.

"_'If' _being the operative word," he regretfully mused.

"And now I've got _you_ depressed. I'm sorry, baby. You don't need to feel guilty about this. And it's probably best if we both moved on. It happened and it's over now. We may have scars, but no one can permanently separate us from each other," she tried to think positively, give Daniel the pep-talk he needed.

"You're right. I think it's time I finally put this behind me and forgive Tyler – for myself. I can't keep obsessing over what he did to you. He's apologized and tried to make it up to us. I need to let it go and get to know my brother the way I'll never know my new sister," Daniel agreed.

"I'm proud of you . . . for having an open mind, being able to see past all the hate," Betty looked at him with admiration.

"Speaking of which – how's Amanda been taking all this? I haven't had a chance to really talk with her about it," he wondered.

"You know Amanda – she's more upset about having a sister who's also Bradford Meade's daughter than she is about what Addison's done. Obviously, I think it would've been different if Marc had been severely affected, but that's Amanda for you. She's the only one _not_ relieved that the press has died down . . ." Betty rolled her eyes.

"You gotta love that girl," Daniel chuckled. "So is everything set for the wedding?" he asked.

"I had to fight Amanda on her dress – she wanted to wear this design she created that was too runway for a formal wedding. I know the media's making it into a huge fashion event, but this thing's ridiculous – the top's a glorified corset with see-through panels. Yes, they're in right now, but I want my wedding to be tasteful, not provocative. And one of my bridesmaids sporting lingerie as she walks down the aisle doesn't convey that message," she digressed.

"Did you get her to fix it?" he said.

"Yeah, I told her to fill the panels up with solid material. So she's using some leftover material Christina had from my dress and we're going to incorporate it in some way into hers and Hilda's dresses too. It's just been really frustrating. But – I have it all under control now and everything is in place," she told him, confidently.

"Great. And I've got our honeymoon taken care of," he said.

"Paris, here we come!" she grinned. "I can't wait to see the Louvre, and the Tour Eiffel, and go shopping – all those designer shops. I never thought I'd get so excited over them, but working at MODE made me appreciate haute couture," Betty giggled.

"I think you forgot something," Daniel told her, leaning closer, his breath on her neck.  
"What?" she wondered, oblivious.

"I don't think we'll be spending much time sight-seeing . . ." he whispered, his teeth grazing her neck.

"Mmm . . . that's why we booked two weeks there – plenty of time for both," she replied, turning her head to latch her lips onto his in a firm, seductive kiss.

"I guess I can sacrifice a few hours," he mischievously relented, equally matching her kiss with another while pushing the material off her shoulder, exposing her bare skin.

"Daniel . . ." she giggled, her laughter filling the room.

Daniel felt so taken with her right then. He didn't know what had come over him – whether it was all the drama they had recently faced or their pending marriage ceremony. But he wondered how he ever was so blind to the immense love he felt for her.

She was so captivating in the simplest of moments, her hair tumbling away from her face as she leaned her head back, her smile widening as she looked into his eyes with so much love and adoration. She was perfect for him; he was never surer that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

"What?" she asked.  
"Nothing . . . just . . . I love you," he smiled and carried her to their bed.

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A woman with black gloves slammed a tabloid magazine on the table.

"'Fairytale Fashion Wedding of the Century', my _ass!_" she angrily scoffed, stabbing a knife through the picture of Daniel and Betty on page six. "They'll pay for this – especially _Betty_ . . ." she vowed.


	23. Chapter 23

_Thank you so much for the reviews! I won't leave you in suspense any longer . . . :)_

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"Suzuki St. Pierre, here, with Fashion TV. We have the latest dish on all the fabulous frocks and countless celebs of one of the biggest events of the century - the Meade-Suarez wedding. Yes, people, it's really happening – Daniel Meade is officially off the market for good! No pity proposals this time – although it would've been one five years ago . . ." Suzuki smirked into the camera before Betty's poncho photo was shown.

"No need to panic – just in case you've been out of the real world - Betty Suarez is one gorgeous Latina Londoner today and perfectly worthy of the Publication Prince," he assured the viewers, showing her current picture.

"But enough about them – let's talk trends and trannies. Alexis Meade, bro-sis of the bridegroom is wearing an uber chic black, white, and red strapless mermaid dress by Oscar de la Renta. And except for her title, _nobody_ will be thinking _anything_ manly about her!" the camera panned to a shot of her coming out of the limo, followed by DJ, Becks, and Daniel.

"The rest of the groomsmen – nephew DJ Meade, photographer Beckett Scott - and the groom, himself, are sporting black tuxes with apple red shirt ties and vests by Versace. Now, onto the maids . . . Matron of Honor and sister of the bride, Hilda Talercio is wearing an apple red satin halter with an A-line tiered skirt, accented at the straps and bust line by pale gold embroidered flowers, designed by European fashion designer and former MODE stylist, Christina McKinney. Also part of the party, McKinney is modeling one of her own, an apple red one-shoulder fitted organza gown with flared flange skirt and the same patterned strap as the previous gown. Amanda Tanen-Somers, BAM stylist and daughter of the late MODE EIC Fey Somers, is fashioning her own design, an apple red corset top with floral accented panels, and feathered skirt. These dazzling divas are sure to turn heads tonight!" Suzuki raved.

"We have yet to catch a glimpse of the blushing bride. However, sources have given us a detailed description of her gown – another McKinney original, ivory sweetheart strapless satin ball gown with the same apple red and pale gold embroidered floral patterned material accenting her bust and flowing diagonally down the front of her gown, enlarging as it meets the bottom with the pale gold flowers also accenting her cathedral train. It's sure to be a stunning ensemble! Now to the massive star-filled guest list – Vera , Tim, Chloe, and Chubby Chutney, Natalie, Heinrick, and Fabia just to name a few . . . And later we'll be getting the scoop on the rest of the bridal party's wardrobe, plus footwear and what Daniel's long lost sister is sporting from afar . . ." Suzuki went on.

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Inside the church, Betty prepared to leave the dressing room and walk down the aisle until Marc barricaded the door.

"Wait – just one more little thing . . ." Marc rushed up to her, ripping the glasses off of her face and throwing them on the floor.

"Marc! I can't see anything without those!" Betty berated him, feeling around on the floor to pick them up.

She suddenly heard a crunch from below as he broke them with his foot.

"Oh – oops! _Sorry . . .!_" he emptily apologized with an impish grin.

Betty froze in utter disbelief.

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen – wear these and do a favor to all of us who have to stare at your pudgy freckled face. No one likes a nerdy bride," Marc brushed off her reaction and threw her a box of contacts.

"Are you serious?" she questioned, her eyes widening. "I don't know how to use these!" her hands resisted the urge to strangle her friend.

"Calm down! You'll thank me later – and so will everyone else,' Marc insisted confidently, as he opened the box, giving her no choice but to put them in.

Betty was so livid with Marc for getting her all worked-up, minutes before she walked down the aisle. However, she should've predicted he'd pull something – especially after he had kept quiet all day - not even insulting her once.

She reluctantly put them in and tried to get used to them in the short time that she had. Once she shoved Marc out the door, she tried to relax.

Justin guided Rosalina and William down the aisle and her bridal party followed behind them. The violin began to play Train's 'Marry Me' as Betty linked her arm with her father's and focused on only one thing – Daniel. Nothing could ruin this day for her – not even Marc.

As she spoke her vows, everything felt so surreal. She couldn't believe it was finally happening.

". . . It's funny how some things come to be, no matter how silly they seem to begin with. I never dreamed five years ago that I'd be standing here in front of you and all of these people, pledging my love and devotion to you. But here I am and I couldn't be happier," she shyly smiled.

"You're the best man I've ever known – sweet . . . funny . . . smart . . . handsome – I could go on for hours. You're my best friend . . . my soul mate . . . You know me better than I know myself. And regardless of what happened in our lives, we always had each other," Betty reflected.

"Even though you have your flaws and you bug me to death sometimes, I love you even more for it; you're not perfect . . . but you're perfect for me," she reached her hand up and gently stroked his cheek.

"I know I've gotten on your case so many times for goofing off and not taking things seriously. But you taught me it's okay to take risks sometimes – to have a little fun and really live my life," she looked at him, sheepishly.

"No one has ever loved me or stood by me the way you do. And I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. You're my everything, Daniel. I feel lucky every day just to have you in my life and I don't know what I'd do without you," Betty admitted and untied the ring from William's pillow.

"So . . . with this ring . . . I promise to love, honor, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live," she placed the platinum wedding band on his finger.

Daniel nervously cleared his throat. He wondered for a brief second if he could even speak. Forming words suddenly became difficult. But then he felt Betty squeeze his hand, letting him know that it was just the two of them that mattered. She gave him the courage to continue. He looked into her beautiful brown eyes and knew exactly what to say.

". . . I never thought I would be the kind of guy who could make a relationship last. But you taught me I was better than that. You made me want to be a better person . . . do something good with my life," Daniel began.

"Even though I wouldn't admit it, part of me has always known there was something special about you; part of me has always loved you in some way. It took me four years to figure it out, but now that I have you, I'll never let you go,"

"All those enthusiastic hugs and pep-talks you gave me, I fought off at the beginning. But they came to be the favorite part of my day – the way you cared about me unconditionally – I-I'd never had that until I met you. And there was nothing more I wanted than to see you happy – the way you always tried to make me," he revealed.

"Looking back, I think you're right – we _are_ soul mates. Because no matter who we were with at the time or what came between us, we were always drawn to each other in some way. There's nothing we wouldn't have done for each other – despite what it cost us in life,"

"You taught me how to love without boundaries and I will never stop showing you that love, Betty. You're the best part of me and you will have my heart forever," he said, taking the ring from the pillow.

"Which is why . . . with this ring . . . I promise to love, honor, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live," he slid the platinum diamond band on her finger and kissed it.

"By the power vested in me by the holy church and the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride," the priest told Daniel.

Daniel eagerly kissed his new wife before they walked hand in hand up the aisle, elated that their official life together had finally begun.

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"You owe me seventy-five bucks, Mr. Meade," Betty grinned satisfactorily as they stood on the Queensboro Bridge while Vincent Bianchi took their individual pictures, the bridal party already headed on to the reception.

"For what, Mrs. Meade?" Daniel feigned innocence.

"Our bet – Becks totally and _knowingly_ hit on Alexis," she told him, looking into the camera.

"He did _not!_" he maintained.

"Since when does grabbing her ass and saying 'Hey, sexy, what do ya say we blow this place and go back to my hotel? I'll show ya a _whole new world . . ._' _not_ count as hitting on her?" she mocked Becks' pick-up attempt. "He didn't even make it to the reception, yet," she added.

Daniel rolled his eyes, still refusing to admit to defeat.

"And if you keep denying it, just wait 'til we get the pictures back – the group shot with Alexis threatening to throw him into the water will be my new screensaver," she smirked.

He unwillingly found his mouth curling with amusement.

"Okay, fine. But given that my money is now your money and vice versa, isn't this a little counterproductive?" he reasoned, muttering in her ear as another photo was shot.

"Maybe . . . But I'm sure I can think of other ways you can pay me . . ." she deviously smiled.

"Your wish is my command . . ." he said, kissing her neck from behind, the camera snapping yet another candid picture.

"Good . . . 'cause I was thinking, maybe you could start by . . ." she turned, seductively running her hands over his chest, then paused as Vincent captured the pose. ". . . cleaning up Sparky and Daisy's occasional messes and taking them for their early morning and late night walks?" she finished.

"You really know how to kill a mood," Daniel cringed.

"Hold on a sec while I change lenses," Vincent said.

They both smiled and nodded.

"You said you'd do anything – I'm holding you to it," she giggled.

"Betty . . ." Daniel whined.

"I'll say 'boobs' again . . ." she playfully warned.

"Okay, you win!" he chuckled as he glanced out at the view, remembering that fateful night when he realized how special she was to him.

"One more shot for me – turn this way and smile. Perfect! Okay, guys – I think I've got everythin'," Vincent told them.

"Great! Are you _sure_ we don't owe you anything?" Betty asked, still disbelieving his charitable offer.

"Positive. Us guys from Queens gotta stick together. Just send me a couple of those sausage and pepper gyros from Saul's and we'll be even," he assured her. 'Now c'mon, all this food talk's makin' me hungry," he joked.

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"I can't believe you and Becks pulled this off - Pat Monahan from Train! This is incredible!" Betty squealed, hugging Daniel so tight he found it hard to breathe.

"Yeah, well, turns out Becks met him at some event he had to work at. The band had a gig there, and they became pretty good friends," Daniel explained.

"I have to say it's the best wedding present we've gotten – wait - I take it back. You playing your guitar and singing with him to me was the best present," she smiled proudly at him.

"It was pretty cool, wasn't it? But I swear, if Suzuki leaks the actual performance, _everyone_ will know about Byron Woo . . ." he replied as they danced to 'Hey, Soul Sister'.

Betty giggled.

"You're not _that_ bad. Your guitar playing was really good . . ." she joked as he swung her around the dance floor of the Plaza ballroom.

"I'm gonna get you for that," he threatened, dipping her almost to the floor.

"Ahhh! Daniel!" she protested.

"See – next time I'll just drop you," he smirked.

"You wouldn't dare . . . I know you'd never let me fall," she smiled, lovingly at him.

"You're right – I would _never_ let that happen," he assured her, seductively kissing her lips when a shot rang out.

"Nobody move. It seems Daniel has something to tell me," the woman stepped out from behind one of the decorative red silk drapes to reveal herself.

"Renee?" Daniel said, shocked.

"Hi, sweetie. Nice to see you missed me, but we can fix all that," Renee greeted her former-lover.

"Renee . . . I don't –" Daniel calmly tried to explain, but was ignored.

"It seems that while I was being held captive in a mental hospital by my lovely sister, Wilhelmina, he was having an affair with that _slut!_ I knew she was after you, Daniel," she revealed to everyone, then turned back to Daniel.

"I told you she had a crush on you – that she purposely arranged your schedule so you wouldn't have any time with me – that she followed you all around and hung on your every word. But you wouldn't listen. _Betty_ was your assistant. _Betty_ was innocent. _Betty_ had a boyfriend. And apparently it was _you_. She was sharpening her claws the entire time, just waiting to pounce on you the second I was gone. She and my sister couldn't stand that I was happy – that I had the perfect man," Renee desperately spoke to Daniel then abruptly darted her eyes toward Betty.

"But I've got news for you, _Betty_: Daniel's _mine_, now – just like he always was!" Renee insisted aiming the gun at her.

"Renee, please, you don't want to do this. I wasn't even with Daniel until a little over a year ago. We want to help you," Betty calmly attempted to talk her out of it.

"She's right. I never intended to hurt you, Renee. I was only thinking of your best interests," Wilhelmina added.

Renee switched her aim to her older sister.

"Really, Wanda?" Renee cynically laughed. "It seems you both got what you wanted – I was locked up so you could avoid any bad publicity for your damn joke of a magazine, and _Betty_ stole my man," she continued to reflect her version of the truth.

"But I'm not going to let either one of you screw with me anymore! I'm taking back my boyfriend! And after everyone learns what you did to your poor sister, you'll never work in the magazine world again!" she threatened, then whipped the gun back to Betty.

Meanwhile, Tyler, standing next to Claire and Amanda, slowly grabbed a large glass centerpiece and knocked Renee out from behind. But the bullet had already been fired.

Daniel immediately tried to protect Betty as they both dove down, the impact of the shot causing Daniel to roll off of Betty, his body and head slamming against the tile floor. Blood was everywhere, but it was hard to tell whose.


	24. Chapter 24

_Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed - your feedback means a lot to me!_

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Betty slowly lifted her body up from the hard surface. For a split second, she was unsure what had happened. But then it all came back to her and she immediately turned to Daniel, who was unconscious and bleeding profusely.

"Daniel? Daniel! _Oh god!_ Baby, you have to be okay!" Betty cried as she instinctively used her dress to make the blood subside, everyone crowding around them.

Sadly, no sound came out of him. She only felt a faint rising and falling of his chest, his limp body on the cold tile floor – the only thing that had saved her from the bullet.

But at that moment, she'd give anything for it to be her. He had already endured one near-death trauma at the expense of defending her . . .

She could distantly hear her family calling to her, the buzz from the rest of their guests, see flashes of cameras, but all she could focus on was Daniel. Nothing else mattered.

"He's still bleeding . . . no matter how hard I press down – he-he needs a doctor!" she desperately pleaded, applying pressure to the wound on his side to no avail, the blood seeping through the satin and underlying tulle of her dress.

"Aunt Betty, you're bleeding, too!" Justin observed.

"No, Justin - I'm just trying to stop Daniel's blood," she assured him.

"No – _you're_ bleeding – your shoulder," Austin told her viewing the open wound where the bullet had grazed her.

"Oh . . ." Betty realized. Too numb with shock, she hadn't even felt the sting until her nephew and his boyfriend had pointed it out. "I-I'm fine – just call 9-1-1 – someone – _please!_" she pleaded.

"Daniel is going to be fine, dear. Remember, he's a Meade – just like you are now. We're resilient - and we _never_ give up a fight," Claire assured her daughter-in-law, trying to hide the fear she had, herself.

"They're already on their way, Chipmunk – and so are the police," Bobby told Betty, putting away his phone.

"To get that psychotic maniacal bitch of a woman," Claire added.

"Runs in the family . . ." Justin joked.

"_Justin! Estás loco en la cabeza? _Wilhelmina's right over there!" Hilda scolded.

"It's quite alright. The boy isn't . . . entirely wrong. I've made some questionable decisions in my time . . . And given the chaos my sister has caused, I won't fault him for lashing out at my family," Wilhelmina approached them. "However, if he intends to continue his internship, I'd advise him to tread carefully . . ." she warned before guiding the police and paramedics to the situation.

"Step aside everyone," one medic requested, taking a look at Daniel before asking a second to assist him.

"Miss, are you injured anywhere else?" another asked, examining Betty's shoulder.

"_Oww . . .!_" Betty grimaced. "No – I-I don't know – I don't think so. Just take care of Daniel – please!" she begged.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to have to examine you properly. Can you stand up?" the EMT requested.

"No – I mean I can – just don't worry about me – help Daniel!" Betty insisted.

"I know you're worried, but there are only so many people who can work on him at a time. We're doing everything that we can. The best thing you can do for him is let us check you out," she told her.

Betty continued to hesitate, not wanting anyone's focus to leave Daniel, when she felt a hand on her other shoulder.

"Daniel's gonna be fine, Mamita. I swear. Now please, let them take care of you. It's what he'd be telling you right now and you know it," Hilda told her.

"She's right, Betty. Danny would wanna make sure you're okay. And I know he'll have my ass if you're not. Do it for him," Alexis added.

"He'll be okay, darlin'. And if he isn't, he's a freakin' moron for leavin' behind such an incredibly sexy wife," Becks chimed in.

Betty nodded, conceding to their requests. As she left Hilda and Alexis to fight Becks over his piggish attitude, she hoped they were all right about Daniel. She couldn't take it if anything happened to him.

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As Daniel was being wheeled immediately to the OR, Betty was told by a resident that he had severe internal bleeding near his lungs due to where the bullet had lodged itself and also had intracranial pressure from suffering yet another blow to his head. She could barely form her fingers around the pen to authorize the operation and ended up signing a very shaky 'Betty Suarez' out of habit.

However, that was least of her problems at the moment. She couldn't stop thinking about what might happen to him, if he didn't make it out this time. It was twice as dangerous as his last surgery, maybe even more so because of the repeated damage to his brain.

If only they hadn't been so quick to assume everything was back to normal. If only they had kept their bodyguards, hired extra security for the wedding . . . if only she had listened to her gut-feeling, maybe Daniel wouldn't be fighting for his life at that moment; maybe her husband would be safe and happy, on a plane to their honeymoon – not facing the possibility of . . .

She couldn't take it anymore, she had to concentrate on something else – think optimistically, like she normally would in any situation. Only the past several months it seemed as though there were very few positive things to focus on – especially now . . .

Her husband of a mere few hours might be simply that. He'd never get to share with her everything they'd dreamed about. He'd never get to be the father he'd always wanted to be . . . or a grandfather . . . even just enjoy the current life they had . . .

She nervously paced in the surgical waiting room, the second time she'd been in one in the past year. She'd thought she'd get used to it – the hours of nerve-wracking time, smells of antiseptics and cafeteria food, chairs not meant to be sat in for multiple hours, the urgent paging of doctors – but it never got any easier. At least she had a lot of people around to support her and Daniel this time, though.

"How are ye doin', love? Sorry, not the best choice of words . . . I know ye must be climbin' up the walls," Christina came up to her.

"It's okay – I know what you meant . . . I'm sorry I ruined my dress," Betty looked down at the blood that almost matched the red material accenting her gown.

"Don't worry 'bout it. You'll get it dry-cleaned an' it'll be fine," Christina assured her.

Betty gave her a bittersweet smile.

"Doesn't make up for the blood-bath knock-down in front of 750 guests," she sighed.

"It was a gorgeous weddin', Betty - even the reception. It's a shame what happened, but don't beat yerself up about it. We all knew Wilhelmina's sister was a bampot but no one had a clue she'd escape from the loony bin an' come after ye an' Daniel," Christina assured her.

Betty nodded.

"I thought that Daniel and I had caught the right person. It all made sense – Addison was Fey and Bradford's lovechild, her DNA was on what little evidence the police had, she had plenty of motive considering her parents refused to publicly acknowledge her . . . I just can't believe we didn't think of Renee. Of all the women Daniel dated, she was the most possessive and even accused me of trying to steal him away from her. All the press about us this year – if she even heard or saw one piece of it . . ." Betty guiltily reflected.

"Betty, none of this was yer fault. Renee was mentally ill and managed to pull one over on her doctors. You can't blame yerself – I won't let ye and I know Daniel won't either," Christina tried to ease her friend's mind.

"I won't," Betty half-heartedly promised.

"Good. I've gotta run – I left little William with Stuart an' he's screamin' like a banshee – William, I mean," Christina joked, hugging her friend.

Betty nodded.

"I'll be back when I get 'em settled at Hilda's," she promised before leaving.

Wilhelmina entered a few minutes later.

"Renee is temporarily being held overnight for a concussion. Guards are manning her door and she is handcuffed to her bed. Subsequently, she'll be transferred and held at the police station until everyone involved has made their official statements and her arraignment can be scheduled. I presume you'll want to contribute yours at some point – after Daniel comes out of surgery of course," she informed her.

"Yeah . . . _If_ he comes out of it . . ." Betty lowered her head fighting back tears.

"Betty, I'm deeply sorry about my severely disturbed sister. Frankly, she never was quite all there, as I'm sure you remember. I tried my hardest to give her the utmost quality care, but apparently the facility's staff wasn't as highly trained as I had been told," Wilhelmina sighed.

"No kidding!" Betty scoffed.

"But I will say that Renee could be very convincing when she wanted to be," Wilhelmina added.

"She sure as hell fooled Daniel a few years ago," Betty agreed, remembering the fire in his apartment.

"Yes – I tried to warn him, but sadly lust and the need to ignore the enemy were stronger. And it never helped that The Senator has connections to . . . everyone. She was always 'Daddy's Little Girl'," Wilhelmina rolled her eyes.

"So, your father got her released from the mental institution?" Betty asked.

"In a manner of speaking. Renee was transferred to a lower security facility and eventually only had to attend mandatory psychiatric sessions and continue to take her medication. It was inevitable that something would eventually set her off . . ." Wilhelmina explained.

"And Daniel was the last man she was with . . ." Betty concluded.

"While Daniel and I never saw eye-to-eye –or _you_ and I, for that matter - I would never wish this situation on anyone. I hate to admit it, but you and Daniel have always seemed to complement each other . . . in an obscure, Lady Gaga and unsightly ensembles sort of way, that is," Wilhelmina gave her sympathies, hesitantly patting Betty's unwounded shoulder.

"Thank you, Wilhelmina . . . I think," Betty replied.

Wilhelmina nodded.

"Well, I'd better be leaving. I need to finish giving my statement to the police. _Connor!_" she called.

Connor wrapped-up his conversation with Marc and Amanda and approached them.

"Betty, you have my deepest sympathies. We've all certainly had our differences, to say the least, but Daniel is a stand-up man and you are a lovely young lady with a lot of promise. I know he's in there fighting to come back to you. I just hope it ends better here than it usually did in the ring. Hang in there, sweetheart," Connor said, giving Betty a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks," she said as they left.

It was comforting to know that he and Wilhelmina possibly had both changed for the better, while still maintaining a little of their old personalities.

A couple of years ago, Wilhelmina wouldn't have given a damn what happened to Daniel or her as long as she wasn't directly affected by it – neither would Conner for that matter. They had both used her and Daniel to get what they wanted. But maybe they had truly learned their lessons in life by now . . .

"There's our Bridezilla! So . . . how are we feeling?" Marc greeted her.

"_Marc . . .!_ Be more sensitive! Betty's new hubby could end up like a banana and then she'd have to put the cork in him . . ." Amanda whined, jabbing him.

"Sorry, Mandy – I was just trying to lighten the mood a little," Marc defended.

"It's okay, you guys," Betty assured her friends, almost immune to their oblivious tactless remarks. "I just think I need to sit down for a while," she told them, walking toward the waiting room chairs. "My feet are killing me and – Whoa!" she suddenly felt dizzy.

Marc caught her before she fainted.

"Mandy – a little help here – I'm not strong enough to support an elephant!" he exaggerated.

If Betty had felt better she would've smacked him. Fortunately, Amanda did.

"Marc! Just shut up for once! You have trouble lifting _five_ pounds – _anybody_ over that is an elephant to you. Betty is our friend and she needs us right now so suck it up!" she commanded, guiding Betty to a chair.

"Okay, okay, okay! I can do without the bitchiness," Marc surrendered as he sat down. "I'm sorry, Betty – you know you'll always be my little Chimichanga no matter what," he apologized.

"Thanks, Marc – I love you, too," Betty smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Aww . . . Brad and Jen are together again . . ." Amanda questioned, flipping through a magazine.

Betty snatched it from her.

"Amanda, this mag is from 2000," she informed her.

"Oh. Well, Angie's prettier anyway," Amanda brushed it off. "And can't they splurge for a freakin' prescription to MODE or something? I almost broke out my harem pants again," she complained.

"That's why I always make a point to donate the mags I get as soon as I'm done reading them," Betty commented.

"Good idea. I think I'll start doing that with mine. No wonder so many people here are fashion-impaired," Marc ridiculed.

"I wish we would hear something from the doctors – an update – something. Daniel's been in surgery way too long," Betty worried.

"I'm on it!" Amanda said.

"On what?" Betty and Marc both wondered.

"Flirt-patrol. I can get anybody to talk – and I mean _any_ . . . _body_ . . ." Amanda confidently said, sexily sauntering over to the reception area.

Betty and Marc snickered as Amanda coyly attempted to fish for info and was abruptly cut off.

"Look, Miss – I don't care how cute you think you are or if your friend owns the whole damn hospital! Bribery and batty little eyelashes don't fly with me! As it says on the sign – I don't know anything until the doctor calls me. And when he does, I'll call your friend! Now _sit down_ or I'll have to ask you to leave!" the female assistant in her late-twenties bellowed.

"She must've jumped back fifteen feet!" Betty giggled.

"I'm surprised she didn't start bawling!" Marc chortled.

"That's the best laugh I've had all day," Betty admitted with a bittersweet smile.

"Me, too," Marc agreed as Amanda came back.

"She yelled at me – she threatened to kick me out if I tried that again," Amanda sniffled.

"Aww . . . Mandy . . . Some people just don't like that sort of thing," Marc told her.

"I think it might've worked better on a guy," Betty added.

"A _straight_ guy," Marc corrected her.

"But I'm adorable – I'm great with people. That's why I was the first person everyone saw when they walked into MODE," she defended herself.

"Yes, we know you are, sweetie," Marc patronizingly said as Amanda continued to pout.

"I still don't understand why anyone would do this to us. I know Renee's mentally ill, but she and Daniel were through years ago. How could she put him through something so horrible? Did she really think that killing me would make him love her again?" Betty lamented.

"I don't know, Churro. Willie's sister was always Coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. Maybe, in her mind, she and Daniel were still together. Or who knows, maybe she went with the theory of if she couldn't have him, no one could," Marc shrugged and put his arm around her.

"I'm just glad that beeyotch was caught! Nobody messes with my bestie and my ex-fun-buddy and gets away with it!" Amanda added.

"Thanks, Amanda," Betty told her.

"You're right, I'm glad Renee's going to be locked away. I kinda feel bad for Willie, though. But I guess she kinda asked for it," Marc said.

"What do you mean?" Betty wondered.

"Well . . . Willie was the one who caused Renee to go off her rocker while she was with Daniel," he revealed.

"What?" she and Amanda shot up.

"Mmm-hmm. Yeah, she caused Renee to forget her pills and go Looney Tunes again," he said.

"Why? Or do I even wanna know?" Betty asked.

"I'm not sure really, to get her out of her life? You know how Willie was back then," he answered.

"Yeah, she'd literally scare the crap out of poor Halston just for the fun of it," Amanda scoffed.

"I wonder what would've happened if Wilhelmina hadn't sent Renee off the deep end? She and Daniel were moving in together . . . he might have been married to her instead of me, right now," Betty speculated.

"No more champagne for you, my dear! Eventually that psycho would've cracked. And there's no way Daniel would've chosen her over you. It might've taken him a few more months, but he'd have figured out how overly possessive and paranoid she was and kicked her where the sun don't shine!" Marc assured.

"Yeah, Betty. Even then, you were the most important thing to him. He wouldn't have let anyone treat his Chunky Chica that way," Amanda agreed.

"I don't know . . . I tried to talk to Daniel about Renee at the time. She kept trying to rearrange his schedule and plaster it with things for them to do together and she wouldn't stop harassing me –asking me where he was, demanding to speak to him every ten minutes . . ." she recalled. "Daniel just brushed it off and asked me to get along with her. He was so oblivious," she sighed.

"Aren't all men?" Amanda pointed out.

"Tell me about it," Marc agreed.

"But I can't help but love 'em . . ." Betty said, holding back tears. She'd give anything to be with her oblivious man again.

"Yeah . . ." Marc and Amanda smiled, thoughtfully.

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An hour later, Betty, Marc, and Amanda were draped over each other, fast asleep. The exhaustion and stress from the days' events had finally taken their toll on them.

"Betty? Mija?" Ignacio tried to wake his daughter up.

"Huh? What? Is it Daniel? Did you find out something?" Betty abruptly opened her eyes.

Ignacio sadly shook his head.

"Sorry, Mija. We haven't heard anything yet. But I thought the three of you might want a snack," he held up a small paper grocery bag and unloaded leftover wedding cake and three coffees.

"Thank you, Papi," she smiled. "Did everyone get home okay? I hated leaving all of our guests like that . . ." she lowered her head, the horrible images running through her head.

"They are all just fine and completely understand. Oh! That singer from 'Truck' –" Ignacio began.

"You mean 'Train'?" Betty corrected him.

"'Train', 'Truck', 'Taxi' . . . dios mío . . . He said to tell you and Daniel he was sorry about everything and to give you these," he handed her two tickets and backstage passes to one of their concerts.

"Aww . . . that was so sweet of him," she smiled. "So is everyone else okay? I haven't seen Claire or the rest of Daniel's family around.

"Hilda, Alexis, and Christina are taking care of the reporters. Bobby and Stuart had to drag Justin out of there - I don't understand his need to be where the action is," he said, amused.

"Well, he does have an internship at MODE now. And he's always been obsessed with being in the spotlight, so I get it. But he's not experienced enough to deal with the paparazzi. And once he is, I'm sure he'll learn it's not as glamorous as he thinks . . ." she smiled, pensively. "So what about everyone else? I hope Claire makes it back in time," she said.

"Elena and DJ are with Bobby, Stuart, Justin and the children. Wilhelmina, Claire, and Tyler just got back from the police station. Claire and Tyler are quickly grabbing coffee before they come up and Wilhelmina is going to take over press duty so Alexis can be with her family," Ignacio replied.

"Good," she sighed.

"Now, I want you to stop worrying about other people and concentrate on yourself for a change," her father told her.

"But Papi –" Betty objected.

"You've had a long night, Betty. You need your strength for when Daniel gets out of surgery. Eat something, por favor," he requested.

Betty nodded and nudged Marc awake.

"_Troy!_ I swear on Mandy's Dolce blouse the next time you jab me, you're sleeping on the couch!" Marc shot up.

"I'm going to see if the girl at the desk knows how much longer it will be," Ignacio good-naturedly shook his head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you – just ask Amanda," Marc warned him and elbowed her.

"Hmmm? Tyler, not now – I'm too tired to be kinky . . ." she mumbled.

Ignacio sighed.

"Mandy! Up!" Marc demanded.

"What do you want?" she whined.

"Betty's dad is about to battle The Beast!" he explained.

"No! Uncle Papi - save yourself! Betty's heart can't handle it!" Amanda frantically discouraged Ignacio.

"She's right, Dad. You don't wanna mess with that girl," she giggled, only to be called by that same woman to the desk.

"Betty Suarez?" she paged.

Betty nervously walked up to the station, hoping she'd finally get some information on Daniel.

"Hi – it's Meade – it's our wedding day," Betty explained.

"_Really_ – I thought it was Halloween and you were the Bride of Frankenstein," she sarcastically remarked noticing Betty's hard to miss blood-stained gown.

"Is there any news on my husband?" Betty rolled her eyes, not in the mood for the nurse's lack of a bedside manner.

"He's in recovery – the doctor will be here to talk to you in a few minutes. You can go sit your little pampered-self down, now," she remarked, noticing the rock on Betty's finger.

Betty turned to leave, but stopped herself.

"Excuse me . . . Veronica," she glanced at her name tag. "But I don't deserve to be treated like this. And neither do any of the other people who enter this waiting room. Whether they're rich or poor, every person in here is concerned about someone they love . . . afraid of whether they'll come out of surgery or not . . . worried if they'll make it afterward . . ." she swallowed the lump in her throat.

"And your attitude isn't comforting to them at all – hell, it's not even _civil!_" she remarked.

Veronica rolled her eyes.

"I don't need this power-trip, Princess! I'm here to do my job – not placate rich snobs who can't wait patiently like the rest of us," she scoffed.

"My friend only meant well – you didn't need to bite her head off. And not that it's any of your business, but I wasn't always 'pampered'. I worked for everything I got in life and just happened to fall in love with someone who also has money," Betty matter-of-factly stated.

"Speaking of my husband, his family owns a wing in this hospital and I'm sure it wouldn't take much to get you fired. I'd think about that, if I were you," she warned her, having no real intentions of doing it, but figuring it might make the woman change her demeanor.

She self-assuredly started to walk back to her chair but suddenly felt weak in the knees again. Her head was spinning as she ended up collapsing on the floor.

"Mija? Betty? Chunky Monkey!" Ignacio, Amanda, and Marc all crowded around her.

"We need a doctor over here!" Ignacio requested.

"No – Papi, I'm fine. Honest. I think I just tripped over my dress – it's not a big deal," Betty insisted, not wanting anyone to hover over her when Daniel's surgeon was supposed to give them an update.

"She's probably right – I can't count the number of video clips I uploaded to YouTube _a day_ of her tripping over the thin air at MODE," Marc snickered.

Betty glared at him.

"Betty . . . You almost refused an examination before – I really think you need to stop being so stubborn and let a _doctor_ check you out while you are in a _hospital_," Ignacio advised.

"A plastic surgeon already stitched up the wound on my shoulder while you were taking care of things at the Plaza. I feel fine," she maintained, silently thanking the doctor for the painkillers.

"She almost passed out a couple of hours ago," Marc ratted.

"_Marc!_" Betty evilly looked at him.

"What? You think I'd forget practically needing a forklift to get you off of me?" he innocently remarked.

Ignacio raised an eyebrow at his daughter.

"Fine. I'll get checked out again – I promise – but I'm not going anywhere until I see Daniel and know he's okay," Betty adamantly insisted. "His doctor's supposed to be here any minute – can you go call Claire?" she asked as they helped her up.

"Of course, Mija. I'll be right back," Ignacio kissed her cheek and went down to the lobby, knowing the hospital didn't allow cell phones in the surgical waiting area.

"Mrs. Meade?" a surgeon with bloodied scrubs approached Betty.

As she grabbed onto Marc and Amanda's hands, it took everything in her not to collapse again.


	25. Chapter 25

_Thank you all so much for your reviews - they really mean a lot! :) I won't leave you in suspense any longer - despite all the burritos you might throw at me afterwards, lol!_

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"Mrs. Meade, are you alright?" the doctor repeated, noticing her face had turned sheet-white.

"M-My father just went down to call her – oh – wait – you mean me . . . Sorry – I'm not used to being called that . . ." she trailed off, after regaining her composure.

"It's okay. My wife had the same problem for a few weeks after we got married, too. I'm so sorry about your wedding. I'm Dr. Salinger, by the way," he smiled.

He appeared to be no older than Daniel was – mid-thirties, handsome, shockingly charming for a surgeon. She just hoped his medical skills were as good.

Her father and Daniel's family appeared just then and the introductions continued for what seemed like forever. She wished someone would spit out the news – good or bad – she couldn't take the suspense any longer.

Finally, Dr. Salinger seemed to be prepared to deliver the information.

"Daniel lost a lot of blood and went into cardiac arrest during the operation. However, we were able to revive him and stop the internal bleeding. We removed the bullet around his lung and relieved the intracranial pressure in his brain. While the operation was successful, his body endured a lot of stress and shut itself down as a way of healing," he began.

"S-So you're saying h-he's d-dead?" Amanda was the first one to speak, practically blubbering.

"H-He's in a coma, isn't he?" Betty assumed, fearfully, having watched enough medical dramas and been in enough hospitals by then to figure it out.

"Yes, he's in a coma," Dr. Salinger confirmed her fear.

"Oh god, my poor baby boy!" Claire cried.

Tyler and Alexis consoled her.

"Dios mio! ¿Por qué siguen castigando a mi familia?" Ignacio sadly shook his head.

"He's not dead!" Amanda happily sighed, wiping her tears.

"Yeah, but being a vegetable isn't much better," Marc muttered.

"We're not positive if or when he will come out of it. But there is still brain activity and his body, while in a fragile state, is continuing to function so we are hopeful he will make a full recovery," the surgeon explained.

Betty remained quiet, unable to form the words of anger, anxiety, and frustration she felt at that moment. She was right – Daniel wasn't dead – just in a deep sleep. A sleep he had to come out of.

"Betty, are you okay? Because you're going to draw blood from my arm if you don't get your French-tipped claws off of it!" Marc hinted.

"I want to see him. I-I have to see Daniel," she said.

"We're in the process of putting him in a room right now. I'll take you to him, myself," Dr. Salinger offered.

"I'm coming with you," Claire insisted.

"So are we," Alexis spoke for herself and Tyler.

"I'll be right here, Mija," Ignacio told his daughter.

"Gracias, Papi," Betty weakly thanked him.

"So will we," Marc and Amanda assured her.

"Thank you," she said before leaving with the doctor.

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"He'll be able to hear us, right?" Betty asked as they reached the door of Daniel's room.

"Yes, it's important to talk to him, be positive. Listening to the voices of the ones who care about them has been shown to give coma patients a better outcome. But there is something else I'd like you to be aware of – Daniel might make slight movements every so often - a twitch of the mouth . . . a lift of a finger . . . a grasping of a hand – even faint noises. A lot of people mistake them as signs that patients are starting to wake up. However, most of the time, these movements and sounds are involuntary – reflexes. I don't want any of you to falsely get your hopes up," Dr. Salinger informed them.

They all nodded.

"We'll be keeping him monitored. I'll leave you to have some time with him," he told them before leaving.

"Mom, why don't you and Betty go in first? Tyler and I will wait out here," Alexis suggested.

Claire nodded, drying her tears.

"Let's go, dear. We have to be strong – for Daniel's sake," she said, leading Betty into his room.

As they walked in, Betty felt a sense of déjà vu. The same type of bandage wrapped around his head, his face pale, his body frail, the rhythmic beeping of machines . . . And this time, it wasn't just a matter of memory loss – there was a possibility he wouldn't wake up period.

But she knew she couldn't think like that. It wouldn't help anyone – especially not Daniel. Positive. Perky. Like she was when she first met him. He always loved that about her; how she managed to find the silver lining in the worst situations.

She slowly walked toward him and took his hand.

"Hey, baby – it's me. Not that I'm not grateful that you played hero for me, but did you have to put yourself in a coma over it?" she joked. "Wake up soon – you owe me a honeymoon in Paris," she said, kissing his cheek.

She had so much more she wanted to say to him, but still felt uncomfortable saying it around Claire, even as close as they'd become.

Claire, however, had no trouble at all.

"Daniel, dear, it's your mother. I know I can't order you around like I used to, but I'm doing it anyway. I demand that you fight this or I'll show everyone a certain picture of when you were six that will make the public question why, like Alexis, you didn't also become Danielle," she threatened.

Betty found it hard to contain her laughter, imagining Daniel and Alex playing dress up with Claire's clothes or tea party with their transformers or something.

"You are strong and stubborn – just like your father. And you have so many people who love you in this world – do it for them. If anything, do it for your lovely new wife – no one deserves to be a widow on their wedding day. Well, perhaps there is _one_ exception – but not Betty. She loves you and makes you happier than I've ever seen you before. You deserve to have a future with each other – one that entails a grandchild for your poor mother. Your sister, through no fault of her own, already cheated me out of the first years of DJ's life . . . But I digress. Just open your eyes, son . . . You have so much left to live for," Claire spoke, a crack forming in her voice near the end.

"I'm going to go tell Alexis and Tyler they can come in if they want," Betty said and walked out, needing a moment to collect herself.

Alexis took one look at Betty's expression and squeezed her hand before going into the room.

"Danny's gonna be okay," she insisted.

Betty nodded, and sat beside Tyler, whose head was buried in his hands.

"This is all my fault," he groaned.

"What? Is there something you haven't told us?" she asked, hoping he hadn't been behind Renee's hit.

"There was a woman behind the whole scheme Matt and I had to break you and Daniel up. I never met her or knew who she was – but she was the one who called the shots most of the time. I only talked with her once and that was after I had agreed to help the police. We couldn't trace her phone or where she was,"

"What about Matt? Did he know exactly who she was?" Betty wondered.

"Yeah, he did. He started the whole thing with her to begin with. And I tried everything I could to convince him to give her up, but he wouldn't. Said if he couldn't have you, he didn't give a damn what happened to you or to him," Tyler said.

"Wow. I can't believe I ever saw anything in him. At the time, he was charming and sweet. He had had a childhood similar to Daniel's. But he could also be really vindictive and flakey. He couldn't commit to a career – just obsessed over one thing after another. The only thing he could commit to was me, and I wasn't ready to become as serious as he was. When he found his next muse – going to Africa – maybe he thought there was a chance I'd be there when he got back. Or maybe just finding out that of all the guys I could've been engaged to, Daniel ended up being that guy," Betty reflected.

"Every time I mentioned his name, he'd go off. I wanted to get back at Daniel, but Matt loathed him – almost like he was the one who got in the way of your relationship or something. I don't know – he didn't go into it that much," Tyler told her.

"He and Daniel fought over me – it wasn't romantically on Daniel's part, but I think Matt thought it was. And maybe he could see what Daniel and I couldn't. One time, even though he and I were broken up at the time, Matt accused me at a photo shoot of sleeping with Daniel. Daniel didn't really help matters any by punching him out in front of everyone, but he thought he was. And I secretly loved him for doing it," she smiled.

"Were you?" he asked.

"No. Daniel was getting over his first wife's death at the time," Betty replied.

"Daniel was married before?" Tyler said, surprised.

"To Molly. Her cancer - she had been diagnosed with it before she and Daniel met - had come back not long after they started seeing each other. She refused to go through another round of treatment, even though Daniel tried so hard to fight her on it. He eventually gave Molly what she wanted – to live out the rest of her life the best she could. They had a wedding soon after she found out. Molly died a couple of weeks later," she explained.

"Wow . . . that must've been rough," he shook his head.

"It was. Daniel was going through an extremely difficult situation and even though I had been promoted, I still found it tough not to act as his assistant. I tried to juggle my new job with my old along with figuring out what Daniel and I were to each other, since I was no longer directly working for him - Matt had actually become my boss. And I ended up neglecting my new job to help Daniel grieve. I shouldn't have, but I wasn't about to let him deal with something like that alone. Matt and everyone else at MODE took it to mean more than it really was," she replied.

"After the way Daniel reacted to me showing up in town, I always figured he was just a spoiled rich boy who didn't want to share all the attention he got with his illegitimate brother. But I guess he had real problems of his own," Tyler reacted, feeling even guiltier.

"Daniel's had a pretty difficult life – Molly was only one part of it. But I won't bore you with any more stories," she said.

"You're not boring me at all. It actually helps . . . learning more about my brother. I'm beginning to understand him a little more," Tyler assured her.

"Good. I'm glad . . . But back to what you were telling me – about Matt?" she questioned.

"Yeah, so he refused to reveal who she was. I know I should've told you guys about her being connected, but I wasn't getting anywhere and I didn't want to get your hopes up that we would catch her. When you hired that PI and that Mitchell girl was arrested, I just assumed she was the one. I should've tried harder with Matt . . . I'm really sorry, Betty – about everything," Tyler apologized.

"From what you've told me, you couldn't have known. And you tried - I appreciate that. I honestly believe you want to make things right," she said, squeezing his hand in forgiveness.

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Betty solemnly entered Daniel's room again. She was waiting for her father to get her suitcase from the hotel, which kindly continued to hold their luggage free of charge after the disaster at the reception.

It was the first moment alone she had had with him. He looked so peaceful, like he was merely sleeping after a long night. She gingerly crawled in beside him, her gown pooling over the edge of the bed. Maybe the presence and warmth of her body would stir him to consciousness. She was desperate to try anything.

It was supposed to be their wedding night. Daniel should have been unlacing the corset of her dress and enjoying the barely-there lingerie that lay beneath it. They would have been joining the 'mile high' club in the Meade jet by now, floating their way to Paris. Instead, Daniel was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life. And she was powerless to do anything about it.

She took a deep breath, deciding the only thing was to talk to him and hope.

"You remember the night you proposed to me?" she started.

A mechanical beep from a machine was the only response she received.

"You wouldn't tell me where you were taking me, only hinted that it was the one touristy place we hadn't explored," she took his hand. "I went down the list in my mind – I couldn't figure it out. I drove you nuts playing 20 Questions. You threatened to kick me out of the cab if I didn't shut up," she mused. "When we got to the London Eye, you stopped. I never even thought of it, because I knew you were afraid of Ferris wheels ever since you got stuck on one in Coney Island with Alex and he tried to throw you out of it," she rolled her eyes at the immense sibling rivalry those two had.

"As you led me into the private capsule, you said it was time for you to face your fear again with someone who would actually catch you if you fell . . . that you knew you could face any fear as long as you had me . . ." she smiled, remembering. "Then you got down on one knee and pulled out the most gorgeous ring I'd ever seen . . ." she glanced down at it.

"You told me I was the only woman who had ever made you feel whole, in every aspect of your life . . . That you wished you could build a time machine and change all the moments we had spent not knowing what we had together . . . That I was the only girl you'd ever pictured growing old with you – but only because I was the best at nagging and bugging the hell out of you," she giggled. ". . . You wanted a little you and a little me – to spoil them like crazy and give them all the love and attention you were lacking as a child . . ." she recalled.

"You wanted a life, Daniel. And I want that too – so much . . . But you have to wake up, baby. _Please_ . . ." she softly pleaded with him, a few tears streaming down her cheeks as she closed her eyes, wishing it was only a horrible dream.


	26. Chapter 26

_Thank you all again for reading and for your feedback - it's much loved! I can't promise a break from the drama just yet, but hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway, lol! :)_

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It had been a month since their wedding . . . a month since Daniel had been conscious. Betty had sat vigilant by his bedside the entire time, hoping for any sign of a recovery. She left the hospital only to get a quick shower at Claire's or pick up food, but immediately returned in case he woke up. She bathed and shaved him every morning and trimmed his hair when it began to grow out. She made sure a physical therapist came every afternoon so his muscles wouldn't atrophy. She talked to him just like she would normally - asking his opinions . . . letting him know the latest gossip . . . making comments while watching shows or reading the paper . . . And she conducted her job the best she could from across the ocean. Lindsay had been very understanding about the entire situation and promised Daniel would have his job back when he was up to it.

Everyone was so nice to them. Amanda and Tyler were taking care of Daisy and Sparky free of charge and they flew in on weekends with Alexis and DJ. And Daniel had had visitors come every day – practically everyone who Daniel had worked with, from designers and models to accountants and mail clerks, reached out in some way. They received letters from strangers in New York and London, wanting to give his family their sympathies. Marc made an effort to make daily appearances, attempting to annoy Daniel out of his coma. Wilhelmina and Conner even stopped by once a week. And while the media was still having a field day with the tragedy, Suzuki shockingly tried to tone his updates down, and even sent them a fruit basket from his family. But as much as she appreciated all of the love and support, all she wanted was for Daniel to open his eyes again.

Renee's arraignment had been held and if she was found guilty after the trial, she would be locked up in a maximum security mental facility with no chance of being released for at least ten years. Betty had felt sorry for Renee when she started the fire a few years earlier. She knew she had an illness . . . but at the time no one had been injured by the incident. This time was much different. Her stunts had either killed or severely injured innocent people – including Daniel. She realized that she was being hypocritical in a way; she had forgiven Tyler and had convinced Daniel to as well. But this was different. Renee had been malicious with her actions – uncaring of who was harmed in her warpath. Betty hoped she never had to see or deal with that woman again.

As for Addison Mitchell, she was cleared of all of the charges against her. Apparently, Renee had ingeniously framed her. She had broken into Wilhelmina's apartment and found all the information she needed on Bradford and Fey's illegitimate daughter. Since Wilhelmina was working under Fey at the time, she knew everything. Bradford had promised her the Creative Director's position in exchange for her silence. Wilhelmina and Renee were close at the time and she had mentioned it in confidence. Renee hadn't seen the significance in the information until recently.

Betty did feel extremely sorry for Addison. She had been wrongly accused of the murder of five people. And like Tyler, she had felt like an outcast to her biological family. Betty hoped that she and Daniel's family, along with Amanda, could make amends and get to know each other. She couldn't imagine not having a family to love and support her.

Hers had been above and beyond helpful during everything. Any time Betty needed anything she knew she could count on them. Papi brought dinner every night and they all sat together with Claire and ate. And he would sit and watch his telenovelas with Daniel, insisting that he'd at least get some Spanish out of them. Bobby would stop by on the weekends and watch whatever sports game or action film was on with Daniel, Tyler, Alexis and DJ. Justin would give him the scoop on Wilhelmina and the fashion world and Hilda would contribute whatever news she had heard. Betty couldn't say enough about how wonderful they were to Daniel. And even if it didn't help improve his condition, it helped her to know that they loved both of them enough to try.

And within the past week, she had felt sick to her stomach, needing them even more. She wondered at first if it had been because of her tendency to eat a ton of carbs and junk food lately or just a reaction to some bad takeout, but after it didn't go away she worried it was the stomach flu. She didn't want to expose Daniel to a virus with the condition he was in. So she made an appointment to get herself checked out and asked Hilda to stay with him during lunch.

"Mrs. Meade?" the doctor entered the exam room.

"It's Betty," she said, still feeling like she was Daniel's mother with the title of 'Mrs.'.

"Betty, I'm Dr. Randall," she introduced herself. "I understand you've been having stomach problems? Nausea and some weight gain?" she asked, reading her chart.

"Yes. I've been under a lot of stress recently. My husband slipped into a coma on our wedding day, and I tend to overload on carbs and junk food when I'm nervous or worried. I'm hoping that's all this is, but I want to make sure it's not something like a virus. The last thing I want to do is make him worse than he already is," Betty explained.

"So you're Daniel Meade's wife? I heard about the tragedy. I'm so sorry for what happened," Dr. Randall gave her sympathies. "I'll check you out, run some tests, do some blood work. You've got enough on your plate without this falling on you, too," she said.

"Thank you," Betty gratefully smiled.

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After the thorough work-up of tests, Betty impatiently waited for the results. She hated leaving Daniel for long and it had been over two hours. Not to mention, she was holding Hilda up. Finally Dr. Randall emerged.

"I have your results back. The good news is that it's not a virus, so you don't have to worry about being contagious. The bad news is that you'll continue to have some of these symptoms for about six more months," she informed Betty.

"What? Why? Can't you give me something for it?" Betty nervously asked.

"I'm afraid I can't. The reason why you're experiencing them is because you're pregnant," the doctor explained.

"Pregnant? No – this can't be happening - there has to be a mistake! M-My husband's in a coma and I would _never_ cheat on him!" Betty exclaimed.

"Please, calm down. You're three months along. I'm sure your husband is the father – unless something happened before your wedding," Dr. Randall assured her.

"No. No – there was never anyone else. We're happy with each other. And we want kids, but not like this – not when he's-he's," Betty told her trying not to cry.

"I'm sure you would have preferred the news to come at a better time. But embrace it – it's something good to come out of such a horrible situation," she smiled and offered her a tissue. "I'll schedule you an appointment with an OB for next week. In the meantime, take these pre-natal vitamins. It's important to start taking care of yourself and your baby," she said, handing her a card and a bottle.

"Thank you," Betty reluctantly smiled as she left the office.

A baby. A child was alive and growing inside of her at that very moment. It was what Daniel had wanted – a little boy or girl to love and raise with her. Only he wouldn't be able to enjoy it, even be there to witness any of their child's milestones unless he woke up. How was she going to do this? How would she be able to take care of a baby without him? What if he never came out of it? What if he never got to meet his own child? She knew how much DJ meant to him . . . how much it hurt when he found out he wasn't his father. He wanted a son or daughter so badly after that . . . to be a better father than his father had been to him.

She wanted that for him . . . she wanted nothing more than to make him happy. The thought of a child with Daniel's eyes and smile melted her heart. Imagining him holding a baby – _their_ baby – in his arms . . . his face lighting up with every look or laugh it gave him . . . tightly grasping onto his finger with its tiny hand . . . falling asleep with it in front of the TV . . . both of them dancing with it in front of the fireplace . . . even the not-so-great moments like changing diapers . . . the endless crying . . . the 4AM feedings . . . He had to come out of this, fight for his child's sake and for hers too. She needed him now more than ever.

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Betty walked back into Daniel's room to find Hilda gone. Part of her was upset that she had left and another was relieved. She didn't want to have to tell Hilda or anyone else before she told Daniel. She knew it was stupid, that while he could hear her, he probably wouldn't fully comprehend her words – much less respond. But she had to let him know first. She sat down on the side of his bed, nervously picking at the blanket.

"I got back from the doctor . . . I'm not contagious. But there is some news I have to tell you. Umm . . . you know that night about three months ago? It was a Friday - Lindsay's sixtieth birthday party and by the time we got home we were completely buzzed from all the champagne? Our new bedroom had just been finished and we were dying to try it out. You were out of condoms, but I didn't care . . . didn't think it'd matter, once, since I was on the pill . . ." she began.

The damn monotonous beep of a machine continued to be the only reply.

"Just in case you haven't figured it out already – I'm pregnant. You're going to be a father, Daniel. So now would be a really good time to say something - open your eyes, squeeze my hand . . . give me some sort of sign that you're happy about this . . . that you're going to be with me on this – because I can't do it alone. You have to be there – not just for me, but for our child. _Our_ child, Daniel. This is what you've dreamed about – having a family of your own. You can't sleep away your life – not when you're missing some of the best moments of it," she sniffled.

"I need you, Daniel. I know neither of us was prepared for having a baby right away, but it happened and we've been through a lot worse – are going through a lot worse . . . I was upset at first, but after thinking about it, I can't think of anything better than beginning our lives together by welcoming a new life into the world . . . You're saying I'm being too sappy, but you're not the one with hormones going all over the place and a husband who literally can't communicate with you, so you have no room to judge. I'm rambling – I get it – and I'll shut up, now. Just know that I love you and need all of you with me," she finished, then gently kissed his hand.

"_Ho_ – la!" Marc knocked on the door. "Hilda had to run and I just stopped by on my way back from a meeting at Vicki's Sickies. _Ugh_ – if I have to look at one more naked woman in a Miraculous bra and Slinky Cheekies, I swear I'm gonna puke! Oops – sorry! You're probably already doing that for me from what I've heard," he rambled on.

Betty's chin began to quiver.

"Aww . . . Why so 'dumpy, Lumpy?" he asked, noticing the expression on her face. "I know your hubby's a zucchini, but that's no reason to start the waterworks again. Seriously – there's only so much crying I can tolerate in one day and I already was forced to take a detour through Maternity, so suck it up!" he commanded.

She burst into tears at the mention of the name. Maternity – mother. She was going to be a mother and her baby might never know its father. She shakily handed Marc the bottle.

"What are these – your anti-depressants?" Marc asked hopefully, then gasped when he read the label. "Don't tell me you got yourself preggers with Daniel's limp love-lever? _Eeeewwww!_ I am _disgusted!_ And _shocked! _And_ disgusted!_ Unlike Willie, I thought you had morals and crap!" he assumed.

"No! _Marc -_" she cried in frustration.

Marc whipped around to Daniel.

"Come on, Daniel – man to man – did Betty swipe your little fishies without you knowing?" he prompted.

Betty wiped her tears and swallowed the lump in her throat. It was bad enough that she was in this mess without him adding to it.

Marc turned back to her.

"He didn't deny it! Ugh! Betty, where did I go wrong with you? I'm so ashamed . . . but not enough not to spread the word . . ." he mischievously wriggled his eyebrow and whisked out his phone.

Betty immediately smacked it to the floor.

"Hey!" he complained.

"Marc I've kicked your ass before and I'll do it again if you don't shut up and let me explain!" Betty warned.

"That was at Wii basketball," he scoffed.

"I'm from Queens, Marc," she reminded him, angrily getting in his face.

"W-What a coincidence – I _am_ a queen," he nervously laughed.

"_Sit_. _Down._" she demanded.

"Okay. Okay!" he surrendered. "I hope Daniel knows what he got himself into – you're one scary bitch when you're pissed . . ." he remarked.

Betty gave him another look and Marc finally stopped talking.

"Thank you," she sat beside him. "Now, I did _not_ do any of those things you mentioned. I'm three months pregnant and Daniel is _fully_ aware of how it happened. So get every twisted image out of your head and be a friend for once in your life," Betty said, burying her head in her hands.

Marc looked at her and begrudgingly put his arm around her.

"You're no fun, you know that? I haven't had any _really_ juicy gossip in a month!" he grumbled. "But I'm sorry," he apologized, resting his head on her shoulder.

Betty laid her head on his.

"Me, too," she half-smiled.

"That baby better not have . . . _anything_ of yours," he joked.

"Hey!" she protested, but couldn't contain a snicker.

"Okay, your brains wouldn't be so bad," he relented.

"That's better," she sighed.

"God knows _Daniel_ doesn't have any . . ." he teased.

Betty jabbed him.

"_Ow!_" he whined.

"Betty?" a weak voice mumbled.

They both jumped and snapped their heads towards Daniel, discovering he had finally opened his eyes.


	27. Chapter 27

_Thank you so much for reading and for the reviews - they're always appreciated! :) Here's the next chapter . . ._

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"Go get a doctor – a nurse – someone!" Betty frantically told Marc.

Marc sped out of the room flailing his arms like a lunatic.

"Listen up people! Rip Van Wimpy is awake! Any non-ugly male medical staff - follow me!" he shouted loud enough for her to hear from the nurse's station.

Betty ignored Marc's spectacle; all she could concentrate on was Daniel.

"I'm right here, baby," she assured him.

"You . . . look . . . different . . . No braces . . . glasses . . . your hair . . .? Makeover?" Daniel muttered, finding it hard to speak normally at first.

"A really slow one, I guess . . ." she answered, slightly perplexed, but not dwelling on it.

"You look . . . incredible . . ." he drooled. "I mean . . . nice. You look nice," he caught himself.

Betty blushed. She had missed that look so much . . . the way he slowly licked his lips, staring at her like she was the only woman in the world. She thought she'd never see that look again – see any look from him at all . . .

"It's so good to hear your voice again . . . see your bright blue eyes . . ." she softly wept, gently hugged him.

"What's going on? Why are you crying? Where am I?" he asked, attempting to sit up.

Betty could tell he was a little panicked and confused.

"Don't try to get up. It's okay. You're in the hospital. You were shot and had another concussion . . . you've been in a coma," she explained.

"How long was I out of it?" he wondered.

"A month. Everyone's been worried about you – your family, including Tyler, my family, Amanda, Marc, Christina, Wilhelmina, Conner, Becks, Lindsay, even Suzuki . . . Practically two countries have been pulling for you to be alright," she told him. "Ethan and Charlotte offered to move here to help in any way they could. I of course told them no, that we'd be back soon. But they're so sweet – I think we picked them well," she smiled.

"Who's Tyler . . . and some of these other people? Two countries? How's Renee taking this? She must be going crazy. I need to see her, let her know I'm okay. Could you call her for me?" Daniel requested much to Betty's dismay.

"Daniel . . ." Betty carefully tried to decline, noticing the implications of some memory loss – either that or they had performed a lobotomy on him.

"Look . . . I know you and Renee haven't seen eye to eye, lately . . . It's partly my fault – I'm not the greatest communicator. But I need your help, Betty. I need you two to get along . . . because I think I'm in love with her," Daniel confessed.

Betty tried to control her emotions; it was obvious the trauma had triggered his mind to go back to when Renee wasn't a threat. However, hearing him say he loved that vicious, possessive, psychotic bitch made her blood curl.

"I can't do that, Daniel. For one, it's impossible at the moment. And two, she's not right for you – trust me," she told him.

"I _knew_ it! Renee and Amanda were right. Betty, you know how much I care about you . . . and while I'm flattered that you . . . care about me . . . a little more than you should, I'm with Renee. I hope you didn't change your looks to impress me. You were always beautiful, Betty. And someday, you'll find a guy who deserves you. But it's not me," he gently did his best to let her down.

She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. It was the same conversation they'd had three years ago - only weirder and not nearly as amusing.

"Daniel, Renee isn't who you think she is. She isn't well. And we're –" she started to tell him a summarized version of the truth when Dr. Salinger appeared.

"Glad to see you're up. You gave everyone a big scare. I don't think this hospital's seen so much visitor and press traffic since Carson Daly secretly sprained his ankle," Dr. Salinger joked. "Let's check you out," he said, pulling out a penlight and examining his eyes. "Have you experienced any abnormalities? Difficulty with speech . . . memory loss?" he asked.

"Speaking at first. It was hard to find the words I wanted to say. But I'm okay, now," Daniel answered.

"What about memory loss? Do you know your name? What year it is? Who the President is?" the doctor questioned.

"Daniel Meade . . . 2008 . . . Barack Obama . . ." he replied.

Dr. Salinger and Betty looked at each other.

"What? What's going on? Is there something wrong with me?" Daniel started to freak out.

"You have a memory loss causing you to forget multiple years. This happens sometimes with trauma patients. They try to block out everything to a time before the accident – before the trouble started," he explained.

"Three years? I sleep for a month and lose three freakin' years of my life?" Daniel said, shocked and frustrated.

"It more than likely isn't permanent. Every case is different – there isn't a set time frame in which a patient begins to remember. It could be today, next week, or next month. But eventually you will find certain things that will trigger your memory and you'll gradually gain it back. It's best to stay patient and don't agitate yourself over it. You're lucky you have the support of so many people to help you through this process," Dr. Salinger assured him.

"So is that it? Can I get out of here anytime soon?" Daniel wondered.

"We need to keep you a few more days for observation. And while you've had physical therapy every day, we need to make sure you're able to walk, use basic motor skills . . . things like that," he informed him.

Daniel nodded sulkily.

"Thank you, Dr. Salinger. I appreciate all you've done for him," Betty told the doctor as she walked him to the door.

"Just hang in there, Betty. You'll have your husband back before you know it," he reassured her and left.

Betty walked back and sat in a chair by the bed.

"Husband? What's that guy talking about? Oh, he probably just thought since you were in here with me that we were . . . you know . . . married," Daniel assumed. "Like _that_ would ever happen! Can you imagine _us_ – _married?_" he smirked.

Betty remained solemn, silent.

"Oh, Betty, I'm sorry. I'm so insensitive sometimes – I've gotta work on that. I forgot about your little crush," he apologized, taking her left hand.

"Wait – what is that? A-Are those what I think they are? Are you really my wife?" he questioned.

His eyes widened as he noticed the ring on his own finger, and it finally clicked.

Betty looked at her rings and half-smiled.

"Yeah . . . Not what you wanted to hear, was it?" she cringed, bracing herself for a long road ahead of her.

"I didn't say that," Daniel softly told her.

"You didn't have to, Daniel. The look on your face said it all. And it's okay – you don't remember us. You don't remember anything after you were with Renee. You don't even remember the fire," she said, her head dropping down to stare at the floor.

"What fire? Was Renee hurt – is that why she's not here? Is that what you're not telling me?" Daniel worriedly demanded an answer.

Betty sighed.

"Renee started a fire in your apartment three years ago – in 2008. She thought I wanted to steal you from her just because I was your assistant and managed your schedule . . . followed you around. I was dating Henry at the time, but she didn't believe me . . . She had a bunch of candles lit for when you came home. I went there to warn you that she had a history of mental illness, and she tried to kill me - just like she tried to kill another assistant of a past boyfriend. You showed up, with Wilhelmina and Marc, but I had already managed to put out the fire just as you came," Betty explained.

"Oh my god! Betty, I'm so sorry. You were okay, right? I can't believe I didn't see it. I love Renee, but if anything happened to you . . ." he trailed off at the unbearable thought.

She felt a sliver of the new Daniel peering out of the old.

"I was. We all were . . . Renee went back on her medication and to a mental facility," she said.

"Is that where she is now?" he asked.

She hesitated for a moment, deciding whether to elaborate or not.

"Yes. There's a lot more to that, but you've already been given enough to process, right now. You probably need to rest. I'm going to see where Marc escaped to and call your mom," she replied.

Daniel reached for her hand.

"No – wait. I want to know more – how I ended up in the hospital . . . how we got where we are now . . . Please?" he begged.

Betty paused. It was an opportunity to possibly elicit some memories in his mind. However, she didn't want to overwhelm him with information.

"Okay, but you have to promise to stop me if you get tired," she agreed. "And we have to call your mother first," she added.

"Deal," he squeezed her hand.

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A week later, Daniel was released from the hospital. Betty didn't think he would be ready to go back to London yet - he didn't remember loving her, so asking him to leave his family and the life he did know to go to a foreign country was out of the question at the moment. And she didn't even dream of telling him about the baby. Of course, in a few more months, she would start to show and would be forced to explain. But she didn't want to pressure him any more than he already was right then.

On the bright side, he did begin to remember a lot of things from when they were still at MODE – her spraining her ankle from wearing the shoes Wilhelmina forced her to walk a mile in . . . Marc sticking gum in his beard . . . the Bahamas . . . Molly's death . . . the cult . . . Cal Hartley taking over . . . Tyler . . . almost everything but falling for her and their life together.

It was frustrating that the one thing he didn't recall was being with her. But she knew it would take time. It was a miracle he remembered what he did so quickly and she should be grateful for that . . . grateful that he was alive and well.

She walked down the long hall in Claire's Manhattan home, hoping a glass of water would help her sleep. Daniel was staying in his old bedroom – she wanted to give him his space and not force him to be in the same bed with her. She saw his light on and wondered why he was up at this hour.

"Couldn't sleep, either?" she curiously poked her head in the doorway.

"Nope. Guess I've had enough sleep for a lifetime," he joked. "Come here," he patted the empty side of the bed, inviting her in.

Betty uncertainly crawled in beside him. Things that used to be routine . . . given . . . comfortable between them were now awkward. It was like they were starting a relationship all over again and blindly figuring out the boundaries.

"I found this on Mom's coffee table," he said, referring to the white hardcover book in his hands, entitled 'Daniel & Betty Meade June 15, 2011'.

"Our wedding book," she gave a bittersweet smile.

She had the CD with all of the pictures that Vincent had taken on it, but was waiting 'til Daniel was back to normal to order the actual prints. Vincent had given her the book in the meantime.

"Are you sure you want to look at it? I mean, I don't want you to feel pressured to remember or feel something you don't," she said.

"I wouldn't have picked it up if I hadn't been curious, Betty. And I want to do everything I can to get back what I've lost. I'll admit it's strange to think of us as married, but you've always had a special place in my heart. So I guess I can see how that feeling eventually grew into something more than just friendship. You're the most important person in my life, Betty. I owe it to you to try," Daniel insisted.

"Thank you. I know this isn't easy for you," she said.

"Yeah, but it doesn't hurt when I'm lucky enough to end up with someone amazing like you as my wife," he shyly smiled.

"Daniel, you don't have to do that," she blushed.

"I'm not lying, Betty. You _are_ amazing and I'm lucky to have you. Now come on, I want to know what's going on in this picture," he chuckled, viewing Alexis trying to throw Becks over the bridge.

"It's pretty self-explanatory when you know Becks," she giggled.

"He _hit_ on her? _Damn . . ._" he shook his head.

"You and I had a bet about whether he would. Guess who won?" she smirked.

"Aren't you an optimist?" he teased.

"I'm also a realist. And Becks near any non-ugly woman – formerly your brother or not - will always be Becks," she replied.

"True, but he's still a fairly good guy – I mean, he did manage to get Pat Manahan to rock out with me at our reception," he pointed out.

"I guess . . . wait – Daniel, I never told you that. Did you see the picture in the album already?" she wondered.

"No," he said.

"Oh my god! You remembered something from our wedding!" she exclaimed, kissing him without even thinking.

Daniel sat with his mouth slightly ajar, at a loss for words.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I never meant to do that – it was a reflex. I was just so excited you actually had a memory related to our wedding . . ." she apologized.

"It's okay. I wasn't expecting it, but I'm not complaining," he assured her.

"I'd better go . . ." she said, getting off the bed.

Daniel pulled her back.

"Betty – wait. Can, uh, can we try that again?" he asked.

"Really?" she skeptically questioned.

"If you don't want to, it's fine," he said, a little disappointed.

"No! No – it's not that. I-I'm just a little surprised you want to," she admitted.

"You're my best friend, and it's true that I've never imagined you and me – us – like that. Okay, well maybe there were a couple of times my mind went there, but only briefly. But when you kissed me just now – I felt this incredible rush. One I've never felt with anyone else. So yeah, I wanna try it again, if that's okay with you?" Daniel confessed.

"Mmm-hmm," she nodded.

They inched toward each other, stopping right as they reached each other's lips.

"What? Why'd you stop – is something wrong? It's my breath, isn't it? I knew I shouldn't have had those garlic rolls . . ." she groaned.

"No, I stopped because you stopped," he maintained.

Both of them nervously laughed.

"This is too awkward, isn't it?" she said.

"Yeah – not because of us – well a little - but it's . . . It should be spontaneous, you know?" he sighed.

"You're right. It's just . . . too predictable," she agreed. "I'm going to go – you need to get some sleep and so do I," she said, getting up.

"Why don't you sleep here? I've got the room . . . and it's kinda lonely," he flirted.

"Daniel . . ." she barely had time to protest before he crashed into her lips, leaving no area of her mouth unexplored.

And there it was – the part of Daniel she had missed – the sexy, flirtatious part . . . the part that made her toes curl, sent erotic shivers down her spine . . . the part of him that made her feel beautiful, wanted.

As they sunk into the moment his hands instinctively roamed through her hair and down her back, inching up her shirt. More than anything she wanted to stay right there. To forget all logic, all repercussions and make mad, passionate love to her husband - something she hadn't done since before he had become her husband. But she knew the consequences; all the factors involved, and kept her resolve.

"Baby . . . mmmm . . ." she said between heated kisses. "We can't – we can't do this . . ."

"You're right – sorry," he apologized, his breath ragged.

"I want to . . . but you're not ready – I mean, I know you're _ready_ – but I don't want to confuse you. I don't want to confuse myself – I'm not making any sense, am I?" she rambled.

"I get it. And I don't want to hurt you either. Clearly, I'm attracted to you and the chemistry's there," he said, twisted a lock of her hair around his finger. "But I'm not in love with you. I'm not sure how I feel, exactly – except I care about you too much to screw this up. I never thought I'd say this to a woman, but we should probably slow things down," he agreed.

"Right. I'll see you in the morning," she said, and went toward the door.

"Sure you don't want to at least keep me company?" he pouted.

"Do you really believe either of us could behave ourselves?" she countered, leaning in the doorway.

"Probably not . . ." he smiled, sheepishly.

"Good night, Daniel," she reluctantly told him.

"Good night, Betty," he sighed.


	28. Chapter 28

_Thanks again for reading and for all of the responses - they're much loved! Here's the next chapter, as requested . . . Enjoy! :)_

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Two more weeks had gone by and still no change in Daniel's memory. However, things between them were gradually progressing to the point where she almost felt completely comfortable with him again. Betty wondered if there was anyone else who 'dated' her own husband. But she didn't think about it too much. After all, he wasn't running away from her or looking at other women. That was enough for her at the moment.

"I think you over-exerted yourself. But thank you for my enormous puppy dog," Betty said, referring to the giant stuffed animal Daniel won for her at Coney Island. It made her miss her real ones.

"Hey, I'm fine. It only took me two tries with that sledge hammer," he brushed off her concern.

"It was _ten_, Daniel. I think you should've stuck with the basketball game," she snickered.

"Yeah, but those prizes sucked. A blow-up alien? What would you do with that?" Daniel scoffed.

"Direct it back to its Mother ship?" she giggled. "Not very cuddly, either," she agreed, hugging the animal as they walked along the city streets on the sunny summer day. "Seriously, you're not one-hundred percent yet . . . I've got an idea," she said, noticing a street vendor selling woven blankets.

She bought one and headed a different direction.

"Betty, my mom's apartment is the other way," Daniel said, confused.

"We're not going back there yet," she told him.

"Where are we going? I thought you said I was tired," he joked. "Betty . . .?"

A few minutes later, she spoke.

"Here," she grinned, standing in front of Central Park. "You can get some rest and I can get caught up on some work in a place that has some fresh air," she explained.

Daniel couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm she had for such little things as sitting in the park.

"Let's go. Maybe we can find a tree before it's taken," he said, casually putting his arm around her waist.

They found the perfect spot, fairly secluded, and spread out the large blanket. Betty leaned her back against the trunk of the tree and pulled out her IPad. Daniel quietly sat beside her until he started to get bored.

"What are you doing?" he wondered.

"Answering some emails, scheduling a video conference for tomorrow with the advertisers to cover our funding for the next issue . . . stuff like that," she shrugged.

"Can I help with anything?" he offered.

"Sure. But only if you feel up to it," she smiled.

"What can I do?" he asked.

"Well, Lindsay divided up your job and gave me and the top editors a little extra workload until you get back. These are the proofs from the last shoot. Pick the ones that look best, and tomorrow you can work with the layout – _if_ you feel like it," she told him.

"Betty, I'm fine," he insisted, covering a yawn.

"You're yawning," she caught him.

"What? How did you know?" he protested.

"Daniel, I've worked with you for five years. You did that thing where you pretend you're stretching, but you're really distracting people from figuring out you're tired or bored. You do it all the time at financial meetings," she knowingly told him.

"Does anything get past you?" he teased.

"Nope," she grinned, smugly.

Daniel immediately attacked her, throwing her into a fit of giggles as they rolled on the blanket.

"Do you take it back?" he said, playfully holding her down until she surrendered.

"Nope," she replied.

"Is that the only word you know?" he chuckled.

"Nope," she giggled.

"So if I wanted to kiss you would you say the same thing?" he flirted.

"No-" she barely got a response out before his lips teasingly found hers.

She moaned slightly when he deepened the kiss. As they broke, Daniel lay beside her as they stared at the clear sky.

"I miss this – us. You don't remember and it's probably still strange for you. But this is almost normal for me," she contentedly sighed.

"It _is_ different. Kissing my best friend, the girl who used to bring me coffee and the monthly numbers . . . pitch off-the-wall topics for a fashion magazine and yet find a way to convince me they were relevant. The girl who'd fix my problems . . . tell me when I was being a jackass . . . who inspired me to be a better man. What did I do to deserve you? When did everything change?" he asked.

Betty stayed silent, assuming it was a rhetorical question.

"No - I really want to know," he insisted.

"I'm not sure. We both grew over the years . . . Everything just sort of evolved naturally between us. There wasn't one clear, defining moment for me," she said. "But you once told me it was what Hilda said in her wedding speech that caused you to have an epiphany, that love was -"

"Knowing someone better than they knew themselves and doing anything in the world to protect them," he finished for her.

"You remembered," she smiled.

"Yeah . . . The moment's still fuzzy . . . and I never connected them with anything, but the words stuck with me," he smiled, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm glad," she said, bringing her hand to his face.

He kissed her palm. Snuggling up against her, they lazily dozed through half of the afternoon. Betty woke before Daniel and sat up, starting to work on her IPad when she noticed children laughing and playing in the distance. Like all the ones she saw at Coney Island, she wondered if that would be their children someday. She instinctively brought her hand to her belly, so lost in thought she didn't even sense Daniel had woken up and had been talking to her.

"Betty? Are you okay? I was just asking if you wanted to share one of those lemon ice things?" he said.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'd love one," she said, snapping out of it.

"K – I'll be right back," he told her before taking off.

Betty was unable to take her eyes off of those children, their parents eventually joining in the fun - spinning them around and hugging them tightly, making their eyes light up with joy . . .

"You were watching those kids, weren't you?" he observed as he got back.

She nodded, guiltily.

"Did we ever talk about it – having any?" he asked, taking a bite of the frozen dessert then handing it to her.

She paused, jabbing the spoon into the flavored ice.

"We did. You wanted them so much . . ." she struggled to hold back her tears.

"Hey, hey . . . It's okay," he assured her, putting down the cup and looking her in the eyes. "I haven't changed my mind. I do want a child, Betty. Things are weird right now, but it doesn't mean they'll stay that way. I'm already seeing a side of you I've never known . . . What I'm trying to say is, we'll get through all of this somehow – I promise," Daniel vowed, earnestly kissing her lips and holding her close.

Betty pulled away, admitting to herself that then was as good a time as any to tell him. He might never gain his memory back, but he deserved to know. She gathered her strength and hoped for the best.

"Daniel, there's something you need to know. I didn't want to tell you because you've been bombarded with all of these changes – a life you don't remember. But I don't want to keep this from you any longer . . . I-I'm pregnant," she confessed.

"Y-You're pregnant? But - how? I've been in a coma – unless . . . were you sleeping with another guy?" he exclaimed, jealousy written all over his face.

It was comforting to see he was willing to fight for her. That was major progress from a few weeks ago. But she couldn't let him think she would do that to him.

"_No!_ Daniel, I'm almost four months along. The baby is yours – I swear," she adamantly told him.

"Oh," he softly said.

The silence dragged on until Betty couldn't take it any longer.

"'Oh?' All you can say is 'Oh'?" she snapped.

"_Jesus_, Betty! What the hell do you want me to say? That I'm overjoyed? That this is the best news a guy could ever get?" he responded, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"No, but I –" she tried to explain, but he kept going.

"An insta-baby with an insta-wife? I'm sorry – but I can't do that. I can't _deal_ with this _shit_ anymore!" he shouted, loud enough for people to begin to stare.

His words cut like a knife, but she refused to let it show.

"Don't worry – you won't have to. I'm moving back to London and I'll raise this child on my own. You'll be _'shit'_ free to do whatever the hell you want!" she retorted, storming off before he saw the flood streaming down her cheeks.

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Daniel stood there, frozen for a moment. He couldn't believe what he had done – that the words came out of his mouth so easily. Maybe he really did mean them . . . He gathered up the blanket and their things, and took a cab to his mother's, feeling he deserved a little punishment.

He thought about everything he and Betty had gone through in the past – the lengths they went to for each other when they were only friends. Why was this so hard? It was _Betty._ She meant everything to him – always had. But waking up, suddenly having her become his wife . . . not remembering any of it . . . needing to be strong for her sake when he was having issues of his own . . . guilt for not remembering . . . the pressure of what he'd do if his slow-growing feelings for her failed to be enough . . . Now he had a baby, too? It was a lot to expect him to handle. He unlocked the door to the townhome and haphazardly unloaded everything on the floor of the immense foyer. Before he managed to even take a seat in the living room, his mother bluntly voiced her opinion.

"You're an ass," Claire stated, as she flipped off Fashion TV's exclusive coverage of his and Betty's fight in the park.

So much for Suzuki's promise to leave their personal lives alone . . .

"Aren't you supposed to be on _my _side?" Daniel grumbled, flopping on the couch.

"I am, sweetheart. But I'm your mother and have never been one to coddle you or sugarcoat the truth," she reminded him.

_Great . . .!_ All he needed was another person on his back. He felt bad enough as it was without a scolding from his mother.

"How was I supposed to react? I'm just getting used to this relationship with her and then she springs a baby on me?" Daniel said, defensively.

"I understand how you feel. However, perhaps you should look at it from Betty's perspective. She almost lost her new husband at the wedding reception. She sat by your bedside for a month – barely leaving your side, knowing you might not wake up again. Then she discovers she's pregnant with your child. You finally open your eyes, yet don't remember any part of your romantic relationship. She has not only your relationship to try to mend, but a child she might have to raise alone. How would you expect her to take your impervious reaction?" Claire pointed out.

"Don't you get that I'm trying to make this work? That I'm doing all I can to be what she wants me to be?" he said, pacing back and forth across the hardwood floors.

"I think the question you have to ask yourself is what do _you_ want? You can't keep up a charade for the rest of your life," she told him.

"I'm _not!_ I'm not pretending – I really am falling for her . . . I just thought I'd have more time to process everything without something else being dumped on me," he admitted.

"Do you love her?" Claire inquired.

"I-I don't know . . . she's my best friend . . . I care about her . . . I can't stop thinking about her . . . I don't want to lose her . . ." he paused for a moment and thought about Hilda's words. He did know her better than she knew herself, and he would do anything in the world to protect her . . . "Wow – I think I do – I do love her . . ." he realized, wondering if he had been that oblivious to it the first time around.

"Daniel, darling, I'm only going to say this once: Suck up that damn pride of yours and be the man I know you are! Life doesn't wait for you to catch up with it. If you love Betty, stop being a coward and fight for her – fight for your child, if nothing else!" Claire advised, then left Daniel to ponder his options.

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"Hey, Chica! Where's Daniel?" Hilda asked, as Betty came into their father's house.

"He's not coming," Betty answered.

"Yeah, Mom. It's all over Fashion TV – Uncle Daniel's a real douche!" Justin remarked. "_Sorry AB!_"

"_Justin!_ What have I told you about that word?" Hilda reprimanded her son.

"That you don't care how old I am, you never want to hear it come out of my mouth . . ." Justin scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Mega Mommy! _Sit! Dish!_" Marc said, coaxing Betty into the living room.

"Marc? What are you doing here?" she wondered.

"What's Mexican Night without my favorite Chimichanga?" he grinned. "Plus, I had to get details on you and Amnesia Boy's latest spat," he added.

"Okay, fine. We've been taking things slow but were getting closer . . . We were okay . . . we went to Coney Island, spent the afternoon in Central Park – except I kept seeing kids everywhere and it made me think of ours. He noticed and asked if we had ever talked about having them. I told him we had, and he was really understanding – told me we'd get through everything eventually . . . I decided to tell him I was pregnant; I thought it was the right timing and he had to know at some point. But he freaked out – like you probably saw on TV," she elaborated to everyone.

"Ouch!" Justin said.

"How could he be so kind and supportive one minute, and then turn into such a jerk!" she complained, taking a handful of tortilla chips to dip in her father's salsa.

"Mamita, I know you're upset and there's no way Daniel should treat you like that. I'd cut off his cojones right now, but I think after what he's been through that you need to give him some slack," Hilda reasoned.

"She thinks I don't understand what 'cojones' are," Justin discreetly snickered to Marc.

Betty finished a chip then protested her sister's suggestion.

"Hilda, he called me an 'insta-wife' and told me he couldn't deal with it anymore. What was I supposed to say? 'Oh, that's okay, Daniel. I'll just hide our baby in my stomach until you're ready to deal with it. Who cares if that's twenty years from now!'" Betty mocked. "It's obvious he isn't capable of handling this. And I can't put my life on hold for years, waiting for him to decide whether he wants me and our child or not," she sighed in frustration.

"Betty, I think what Hilda's saying is that you should try to see things from your hubby's Gucci's," Marc interpreted.

"_Exactly!_ Betty, how would you feel if you woke up and didn't remember marrying or loving Daniel – only knew of your friendship with him? How would you feel if you were suddenly told that you were carrying his baby?" Hilda asked.

Betty sighed, contemplating her sister's scenario again. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it before. Only, Daniel wasn't the sole victim in this. Why couldn't they see what _she_ was going through?

"I know he's suffering, too . . . But you have no idea how patient I've been with him. How much it took not to scream when he said how much he loved Renee . . . to not hole up in my room and sob for days over this. I may not have lost him physically, but his heart – it isn't there like it used to be. He doesn't remember us. And he's trying so hard . . . I love him so much for that. But I just want my husband back – I miss the man I married . . ." she began to cry.

Justin held her.

"It's okay, Aunt B. If I know anything, it's that Uncle Daniel loves you. It might take him a while to see that again, but he'll get there," he comforted her.

"I don't know about that. It took him _four years_ to figure it out the first time," Marc smirked.

Hilda smacked him.

"We can send you home, si no te callas!" she threatened.

"It's true, isn't it?" Marc defended.

Betty wiped her tears.

"I just don't know anymore. I think I really need to go back to London. Lindsay has been great about all of this, but I can't run a magazine from here forever. And my dogs probably don't remember me anymore – the irony in that one . . . Daniel made it clear he's tired of trying to make things work. And I can't stay here and watch him move on to some random woman . . . I'm going to go see if I can book a flight for tomorrow," she decided, getting up.

"Mija – I thought I heard you say you were leaving?" her father came into the room, taking off his apron while Bobby set the table. "Is this because of what Daniel said today?"

"Yes, Papi, it is," Betty answered.

"When did _you_ find out about it?" Hilda asked.

"I was down here with Justin and Bobby while you were feeding Rosalina," he told his eldest daughter.

"Ay! Am I _always_ the last to know about these things?" she complained.

Ignacio shook his head.

"Betty, you're old enough to make your own decisions and I can't make you stay. But don't you think you owe it to Daniel to give him another chance?" he reasoned.

Betty lowered her head, too stubborn to give in.

"I remember when your mother told me she was pregnant with your sister. I didn't give her the response she wanted to hear either. I was surprised and scared at the thought of being a father. We barely had enough money to support _ourselves_. I needed some time to take it all in. Daniel is probably twice as scared. He doesn't remember the life that led him to help create this little niño. Just think about it, Mija. At least stay another week and see if he comes around. Por favor?" he rationalized.

She sighed, knowing her father was more than likely right. She hadn't given Daniel any time to think about it. She had pushed too hard, expecting a reasonable reaction . . . a comforting reaction – and when she hadn't received one, she flipped. She could blame it on hormones, but it was more than that. When Daniel had promised her they'd get through everything, that was the moment she had felt safe again – safe enough to tell him anything. Obviously, it was too much all at once.

"Okay, Papi. I'll stay a little longer. It means I'll get to spend more time with you guys, if nothing else," Betty reluctantly caved and hugged her father.

She only hoped he was right . . .


	29. Chapter 29

_Thanks so much for all of the reviews! :) It took me a little longer to write this chapter, but it's finally finished . . ._

_P.S. For those of you wondering about "Analysis of a Budding Romance", I apologize for not updating it in a while. It's been hard for me to juggle multiple long-term fics recently. I promise I will start writing on it again once I finish this story. (Probably in 2-3 weeks to be safe, but maybe sooner.) I'm glad you're still interested in it! :)_

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Daniel sat in his ratty old robe leftover from college and absently stared at the TV, unable to make a decision. According to Marc, who kept harassing him and sending him evil texts, Betty was leaving in two days. Should he apologize to her and beg her to take him back or should he let her go home to London? He loved her – more than anything, he knew that now. But he wasn't sure he was what she really needed. He was still a little over a year behind when it came to catching up with the rest of the world. And he had no clue of what their romantic relationship had been like. How could he expect Betty to spend the rest of her life with him, if he couldn't remember their life together? How could he ever explain to his child that he didn't know when he fell in love with his or her mother? Although not being in his child's life at all was worse, wasn't it? And this was all based on if Betty would forgive him at all. She had done it so many times in the past, but this was the worst – at least that he could recall. He had no clue what was the right thing to do . . .

"Losing your memory is no excuse for being a total prick," Alexis entered their mother's living room.

"I hope DJ doesn't hear all the crap that comes out of your mouth," Daniel retorted, changing the subject.

"And I hope Mom doesn't put up with all the crap that's on her floor," she fired back, gazing at the disarray of wrappers, pizza boxes, containers of Chinese, and bits of chips and cookies around him in disgust.

"Stella's coming in about twenty minutes – she'll take care of it," he replied, nonchalantly.

"If I were Stella, I'd quit," Alexis said, slamming her Burberry weekend bag on the only empty spot on the floor.

Daniel snorted.

"And for your information, DJ's staying with a friend this weekend. You're sounding like Dad, already. So why don't you get off your scrawny, mopey, lazy ass and talk to the mother of your child?" she glared at her younger brother.

"Maybe because she's better off without me," he replied, flipping the channel on the 60" flat panel in attempt to avoid the conversation.

"Bullshit," Alexis argued, snatching the remote and turning the TV off. "You're afraid of rejection. There's a chance Betty will turn you down and you're not man enough to risk it. You don't have the balls to convince her you're in it for the long haul. Jesus, Danny – grow a pair!"

"Shut up, Alex! Since when have you ever known a damn thing about relationships?" Daniel scoffed.

"I never said I did . . . Our family's not the best example – look at Mom and Dad. They only managed to get it right again when Dad was dying. And I've haven't had a relationship that's lasted more than three months – neither had you. But don't you see what you have now?" she pointed out.

He ran his hand over his unshaven face and in his unwashed, disheveled hair, preparing for another lecture.

"Daniel, you've found someone who is smart and funny and is willing to accept you for who you are. Do you have any idea how much I'd kill for that? Betty has supported you through every milestone and every skeleton that came out of your closet within the past five years. She really loves you. I was skeptical of you two at the beginning, but not because of Betty. I thought you were too shallow to appreciate someone like that. You proved me wrong," she told him.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I can't remember – I can't be this 'new Daniel' she married . . . I don't know all the moments we shared as a couple . . . I don't know our life in London . . . I don't even know when I fell in love with her the first time. How am I supposed to compete with my past? How can I be the perfect husband and father?" Daniel worried.

"You don't. You be the best that you can be right now - that's all you can do. And if Betty knows you as well as I think she does, she realized a looong time ago that you're _far_ from perfect –" Alexis smirked.

Daniel scowled.

"But I doubt she cares. She just wants you to be there, Danny – not out of guilt or obligation, but because you _want_ to be. And I know, deep down, you do. The ball's in your court, little brother. Don't screw this up," she advised, swatting him on the back of the head before going to the kitchen.

"And take a shower - you smell like a freakin' jock strap!" she yelled.

Daniel rolled his eyes and slumped back in his seat. Cheeto and Kung Pao-stained shirt or not, he was unwilling to give Alexis the satisfaction of obeying her command – at least until after she left.

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Six days, twenty-two hours, and forty-seven minutes had gone by since Betty and Daniel had had their blow-up in the park. Counting time was something she had picked up while staying at the hospital. It wasn't the greatest habit to acquire – especially when what you were waiting for never came.

No calls, no texts, no emails, no visits from Daniel - only a random stranger from a delivery service to drop off her belongings. He could have been hit by a bus or lying in an alley and she wouldn't have known – well, not personally anyway. She was sure that Suzuki, Perez, and TMZ would announce it to the entire world if it happened, but that was beside the point.

Betty realized she was also at fault, and was perfectly capable of contacting _him_, but what would the point be? It was time to face the facts: Daniel had no desire to be a part of her life anymore. He didn't love her and his memory of their relationship wasn't coming back. She needed to pick up the pieces and go back to London, be strong for her child – the only true piece of Daniel she had left.

Of course, that city wasn't free of reminders either; it was full of them. Their house, their flat, Daisy and Sparky, all of his clothes and cologne, even his shampoo. Going back to BAM wouldn't be the same either. The only comfort was knowing she would have the opportunity to move on without bumping into him and his new fling one day. The mere thought of it made her cringe in disgust. However, it was bound to happen if she stayed in New York long enough. Nope. London, while painful, would be far more tolerable in that respect.

She padded into the kitchen to search for something to eat, when there was a knock at the door. Her family had gone out for lunch and a movie, but she told them that she needed to pack. Truthfully, she didn't feel like faking smiles and getting excited over a gut-wrenching plot when she still had her own drama looming over her head. She opened up the door, assuming they were back and didn't feel like searching for their keys, when she saw nothing but a large stuffed dog, jean-clad male legs and black Chuck Taylors.

"Shouldn't you be _anywhere_ else?" she retorted, snatching the plush dog from him.

"Why would you say that?" Daniel asked, half-surprised she wasn't jumping into his arms, the other half knowing she had every right to be insanely pissed at his lackluster attempt to make things right again.

Betty rolled her eyes.

"Given that you returned my IPad and phone via courier, I assumed you had no intentions of having anything to do with me," she replied.

"I wanted to give you some space . . . I think we both needed it," he explained.

"If you came here to ask for an annulment, I'm already looking into it," Betty coldly stated, leaving the door open but not inviting him in.

Daniel's face fell. He wasn't expecting her to cut all ties with him so fast. But he could tell from her eyes, there was more to it than she was letting on.

She plopped the stuffed animal on the floor and walked into the living room.

"Is that want you want?" he carefully asked, following her.

"_God_, Daniel! You don't know me at all! I never wanted _any_ of this!" she snapped.

"Then what is it – what _do_ you want, Betty? I'm not a mind-reader!" Daniel shouted in frustration.

"I want _you_, okay!" Betty admitted. "You're all I've ever wanted," her voice quieted.

Daniel reached his hand out to touch her, but Betty instantly resisted.

"_Don't!_ I don't need your damn sympathy! And I don't need you to _'try'!_ This clearly isn't working and we both need to face it. You aren't ready to have a wife and child, and I can't stay here forever on the chance that you will someday," she told him, attempting to maintain her composure.

"Betty, I'm sorry. I know that doesn't make up for anything I did – or didn't do - but I am. I was an idiot and selfish and insensitive – a complete and total jackass . . . I shouldn't have said those things, but I freaked out. I've been overwhelmed with so many changes since I got out of the coma and that was my breaking point. But I realized something while we've been apart . . . I-I love you and I don't want to lose you," Daniel confessed.

"Don't say that! You don't mean it – not the way I need you to. Just go, Daniel! You'll be free to get on with the life you really want," Betty insisted, pushing him toward the door.

"No! My life means nothing without you in it, Betty. I'm _not_ leaving!" he stood his ground.

"Get out, Daniel!" she yelled, shoving him further into the entry. "You're just saying what you think I want to hear – not how you really feel,"

Daniel grabbed ahold of her arms, not tight enough to hurt her but enough to keep her from throwing him out.

"That's not true. Honest, Betty. I love you," he adamantly conveyed.

Betty struggled to free herself.

"Let me go!" she half-heartedly protested, tears of frustration trickling down her face.

He didn't back down; determination set in his eyes.

"I love your persistence . . . I love your beauty . . . I love your intelligence . . . I love the way you care for your family . . . I love how you drive me crazy – both literally and figuratively . . . I love that I could stare into your beautiful brown eyes forever . . . that I could spend hours with you and never say a word, but it'd never feel awkward . . . I love how when we kiss I get so lost in that moment I forget everything else – I know that's probably not something a guy should admit, but it's true. You're the only woman who's done that to me," he confessed.

With every admission, he felt her stiffened body gradually relax against him as her resistance slowly diminished.

"Daniel, please don't," she begged.

Her heart was giving in, but her mind continued to fight him – refusing to allow herself to be hurt once more. He began to kiss away the tears that ran down her cheeks, his voice softer, gentler as he spoke.

"I love how you always stand by me no matter how badly I screw up . . . I'm kinda hoping you'll keep doing that right now . . . I know I didn't act that way before, but the more I thought about it the more I love that there's a tiny life growing inside of you that _we_ created . . . I couldn't think of a better mother for my child than you. I love you, Betty. Please tell me you'll give me another chance, and I promise I won't let you down," Daniel desperately groveled.

Betty silently contemplated her decision. Here was the man she loved, standing vulnerably before her, asking her to forgive him. Despite all of her fears and all of her reservations, it was impossible for her to turn him away. She believed he was sincere and that his intentions were true. It was all she needed from him at that moment.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Ok?" he perked up, not quite sure he had heard her correctly.

She nodded.

Daniel grinned and held Betty close. He'd never been so grateful in his life for all of the simple things he'd once taken for granted. As he pulled back, he cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs lightly brushing against her cheeks. He closed the remaining space between them, drawing his lips to hers in a slow, ardent kiss. Their foreheads met as they caught their breath, both experiencing a sense of relief.

"I will admit it's funny that I fathered a child and I don't even remember how it happened – well I know _how_, but –I mean, I don't remember what it was like with us -" he mused.

Betty put a finger to his lips and slyly smiled.

"I think I know of a way we can fix that . . ." she flirted.

"Really?" he playfully smirked.

"Mmm-hmm," she said, shutting the front door and leading him upstairs.

They stumbled into her bedroom, ripping each other's clothes off in a desperate need. But even as Daniel slammed her against the door, his hands and lips in places that made her lose all train of thought, she somehow managed to lock it. The last thing she needed was for her family to walk in on them.

Betty pulled his t-shirt off and ran her fingers over his bare, muscular chest, nostalgic about how long it had been since she was able to be this close with him. She gently caressed his scar, the memory of the shooting still leaving physical and mental marks on him. But she smiled, knowing they were truly getting past it. She earnestly captured his lips, thankful he was there and alive. When they parted to breathe, his eyes met hers as if he knew what she was thinking.

"I love you," he told her.

"I love you, too," she smiled, kissing him again.

After removing her last article of clothing, Daniel stopped and stared at her in awe.

"What?" she asked, perplexed, and a little apprehensive, realizing it was the first time he'd remembered seeing her naked.

Maybe he didn't feel the same . . . maybe his mind hadn't gotten to the point where he could see past the models and their stick-figured bodies . . . Fortunately, he proceeded to ease her fears.

"You. You're so beautiful . . . so perfect – I can't believe you're mine," he admired her, then looked down at her slightly swollen belly, lovingly bringing his hands over the round bump and softly placing his lips on it. "Or this baby,"

Betty beamed, tears of joy in her eyes as she lifted his chin back up to face her. He kissed her with a loving passion that soon turned heated. She seductively toyed with the band of his boxers, slowly sliding them down as she ran her hands over his ass, before crawling onto the bed. Daniel followed without any more encouragement needed, leaving no inch of her body unattended.

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"All these years, I think I've been doing it wrong . . . because _that_ was _amazing!_" Daniel kissed her temple as they lay in her old bed.

"I bet you use that line with all the girls," she giggled.

"Nope - just you. I'm serious, Betty. This must be what it's like when you're with someone you're truly in love with, because I've never felt so connected . . . so in sync with anyone else," he said, brushing a lock of hair away from her face.

"Me neither. I missed this . . . I missed you so much . . . I thought I'd lost you," she said, pulling him against her, kissing the space between his neck and shoulder.

Daniel hesitated a little.

"Betty . . . I'm not the same guy you married. Most of the memories are gone – I might never gain them back. If you have any regrets, tell me – I'll understand if you want out. I can't guarantee that that Daniel – _your_ Daniel - will be found again," he delicately warned her.

"Baby, you _are_ my Daniel – memory or no memory. We can make new ones," she assured him as she took his hand. "I promised to love you for better and for worse and I do. As long as I know that you love me and will stand by me, we can get through anything. But you can't freak out on me again – not like that. I can't afford to go through an unstable relationship when a child is at stake. So you have to promise me you're in this for real. And if you ever have doubts – talk to me. Because, most of the time, I'm just as scared as you are,"

"I promise," he vowed. "And I think it's probably time to go home,"

Betty curiously looked at him.

"You mean your mother's?" she assumed.

"No, London. Maybe going there will stir up some memories for me. Regardless, I swore to myself the night of your party that I wouldn't hold you back from your dreams. I've already broken it by keeping you here for almost two months. It's time to start our life together – or go back to it or – never mind –" Daniel explained.

"Did you just mention my party? So you remember? Wait – how _could_ you remember it – you never even showed up?" she said, confused.

"I guess I do . . . I was there – you just didn't see me. I remember hiding in the conference room and watching you through the glass doors. You were so happy and excited, dancing with everyone; you didn't seem to notice me. I couldn't ruin it for you, so I left . . . went to that pizza joint we ate at that one night and sang really drunk karaoke until they threw me out," he recalled.

"You never told me that before," she looked at him adoringly.

"It wasn't one of the finest moments in my life," he shrugged, sheepishly. "But I'm sure I've had worse,"

"Yeah . . ." she teased.

"Hey – what happened to comforting me?" he protested.

Betty giggled.

"Sorry – you asked . . ." she smirked. "So, remembering that moment . . . did you realize you were in love with me yet or were you in denial?"

Daniel paused in thought, trying to assess that point in time. While looking back, he began to remember so many more things without any effort – her asking him to Hilda's wedding, jealousy over Henry, his revelation during Hilda's speech, dancing with her, their first kiss in the rain, burning his hand on her release form . . . everything flooded back into his mind at warp speed. He shot up, a shocked look on his face.

"I-I remember – everything before London . . . I think it's back," he felt a gigantic grin form on his face.

"Are you serious? Daniel, this is incredible!" Betty exclaimed, giving him one of her signature hugs.

"I don't know why it happened just now, but I think maybe feeling the weight and guilt of trying to remember lifted off of me had something to do with it. Truly believing I didn't have to prove anything to you – that you would love me either way – took the pressure away. And maybe going to London will trigger more memories. It's only a theory, but it could work. Regardless, we have responsibilities there, a baby to get ready for, and two dogs who I don't remember meeting . . . it's time," he decided.

"I never said it, but I'm sorry. I never meant to put pressure on you – I tried not to. But I guess I didn't try hard enough. I should have given you more space . . . time alone to figure things out . . . but I was afraid of losing you. And I told you too soon about the baby. I thought we had grown close enough for you to handle it. Obviously it was too much at once. When you flipped out, I should have been more understanding and not have taken it so personally. But instead, I pushed you away and almost out of my life. If you hadn't shown up today . . ." she trailed off.

"Hey . . . don't even think about that. We're not perfect, babe – we've both made mistakes. The important thing is that we're here now, and I plan on staying with you 'til we're old and gray," he assured her.

"Me, too," she sighed contentedly, snuggling close to him, genuinely happy for the first time in a long time.


	30. Epilogue

_Thank you all so much for reading this fic and for your reviews! I really enjoyed writing this story (even though it took me almost a year to finish it, lol). Here is the final installment - enjoy! :)_

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Betty instinctively woke in the middle of the night to check on the baby. She looked in the bassinette to find it empty.

"Aidan!" her eyes widened in panic. "Daniel? Where's the baby? Daniel?" she tried to wake him up only to find him gone.

Her heart raced, fearing someone connect to Renee had kidnapped them both, along with their older daughter, Isabella. She checked her room upstairs to find her safe and sound, Daisy and Sparky sleeping at the foot of her bed. Betty breathed a little easier, but not completely. She went back down to the living room to discover her husband in his PJ bottoms, quietly dancing with their son by the fireplace to Michael Buble. As worried as she had been, she couldn't help but smile at the two of them.

"You've gotta start somewhere, right? This way, when you're older, you can impress the girls with your mad dance moves. But we'll leave the Latin stuff to your mom. Did you know she taught me how to Salsa over the phone? That's pretty incredible – she's pretty incredible . . ." Daniel told his son as Betty watched them from the doorway in awe.

"_There_ are my boys," she softly said as she approached them.

Daniel looked up at Betty and back down at Aidan.

"Yeah, he started crying and I didn't want to wake you. You haven't had much sleep since we brought him home," he explained.

"You scared me half to death – but thank you," she told him, kissing his cheek then the top of Aidan's head.

"You thought Renee had something to do with it," he assumed.

"How did you know?" Betty wondered.

"Because I know you . . . And baby, you have nothing to worry about. I've had my memory back for four years now, Renee's still in a maximum security mental facility, and Matt's not getting out of jail any time soon," Daniel assured her.

"I know. It's just . . . every once in a while I can't help but be paranoid, after all that's happened. And everything's been so perfect these past few years – it seems too good to be true," she confessed.

"It is – so get used to it. We're normal again – well, normal for us," he joked.

Betty snickered.

"We'll never be boring, that's for sure. But that's a good thing, I guess," she concluded.

Daniel smiled and placed his free arm around her waist.

"Dance with us?" he offered.

"I'd love that," she said, gently wrapping her arms around them.

"It's the only thing that would get him to settle down. I don't remember Bella being like this," he mused.

"That's because she wasn't. But she's definitely not, now," Betty shook her head.

"At least her jazz and tumbling classes burn off some of that energy," he chuckled. "She's smart, too - four years old and already in kindergarten. Did Amanda tell you she was reading a first-grade level book to Tyler and little Ashton, yesterday? She's just like you,"

"At least people can recognize she's my daughter, now. Before she could talk – with that sandy brown hair and blue eyes - everyone asked me whose kid I was babysitting," she rolled her eyes.

"Well, _no one_ will mistake this handsome little guy from being yours – _I'll_ be the one they'll question," Daniel said. "But I guess it's only fair,"

"Believe me, everyone will recognize him as your son soon enough. He'll have your boyish charm and way with all the girls in no time," she smiled.

"_Hey_, I plan on teaching him to treat the ladies with respect. And of course he'll be a star basketball player – or football –" he dreamed.

"Babe, we're in London. He'll be playing soccer or rugby or cricket," Betty reminded him.

"Oh, right. Well, I'll teach him anyway. He can get a scholarship to a college back in America," he said.

"_Daniel_ . . . there is no way you're sending my baby to another country!" she protested.

"Betty, _relax_. You'll wake him up. Besides, it'll be his choice where he wants to go and what he wants to do. I don't want either of our kids to feel their future is decided for them. As long as they do their best in whatever they choose, I think we should support them," he told her.

"Since when did you get all wise?" she teased.

"Since always," he smirked.

She lightly smacked him, then rested her head on his shoulder.

"I could stay like this forever," she sighed.

"We've gotta pick up our family in the morning," he replied, his mouth twitching.

"Do you always have to be so . . . adorably impossible?" Betty complained.

"You love that about me," he maintained.

"You're lucky I do," she flirted.

"I am," he admitted, kissing her fully and tenderly until he felt a tug on his pants.

"Daddy? What are you and Mommy doing?" Isabella asked.

He and Betty shared a look.

"Uh . . . we're dancing, princess," he carefully answered.

"Here – step on my toes and hold onto my hand – you can dance with us," he said as Betty guided their daughter between them.

As they swayed in silence, Daniel looked from his two children to his wife.

"You're right. I could stay like this forever," he told her.

Betty simply rested her forehead against his and smiled.


End file.
