Disclaimer: I don't own Ugly Betty. Though I would, if I could.

Betty took that job in LONDON!

Betty, job, London. No connection, just words on a screen. Cool. Daniel liked all those things.

Wait.

BETTY TOOK A JOB IN LONDON?

C'mon Daniel, play it cool. Don't freak out and don't read too much into it. That could mean a multitude of things.

Of course the meaning became pretty clear when Betty pulled out the form she needed signing to release her from her contract. Then it all hit home pretty fast.

Betty. Was. Moving. To. London.

She wouldn't be here. Every day with her then every day without her. It just didn't make sense; his job at MODE without Betty was like yin minus the yang or the sun minus the moon or Oreos without cream filling. She wouldn't be here. Not ever again.

Betty was moving to London.

He couldn't understand why she'd leave? Didn't she like seeing him every day? I mean, didn't she love seeing everyone every day? Didn't she love spending time with him? I mean her job. Doesn't she love her job?

He needed to make her stay. Anything to make her to stay.

His mom thought that he loved Betty. That was ridiculous. He wasn't in love with Betty Suarez of all people. She was his assistant, his friend, his best friend. She wasn't afraid to call him out on his shit or catch him up when he was about to fall off a cliff. She was always there to look after him and cover for him on a bad day. She was beautiful, inside and out, with a smile that only shone brighter every day he saw her. When she walked into a room, she was the only one he looked at because she outshone everyone else. Full of sass and wit, she ignored the haters who made fun of her, ignored him when he was being a complete asshole, and didn't give two shits what someone else thought. But he didn't love her. No. He couldn't love her.

Did he?

Daniel picked up The Book, leafing through the latest issue of MODE magazine. It felt more like the last issue of MODE magazine. He flipped through each page, scanning at each editor's bio. The picture that Betty had chosen for him was one ridiculous picture of an equally ridiculous set; he didn't look like himself in any of them. Or did he? Who was Daniel Meade? For all he knew, he could still be that party animal whose response for everything was: "you only live once". Or he might be the smart businessman of a magazine company. Or he might be something else entirely.

Everything he had was given to him as a birth right. Every opinion of him was moulded by his name. Every smile, comment and pay check came as a result of Meade, but not necessarily of Daniel.

Then there was Betty. Betty who had done everything possible to get to where she wanted to be. She bit down the humiliation and dressed in that plastic outfit in her first week for crying out loud. No-one would do that unless they were really goddamn determined. She didn't take anything for granted; not her money, not her job and certainly not her family.

What had he done for himself?

He set The Book down, open at a blank double spread. The clean white pages screamed for writing, screamed for invention. They begged to be written on, prayed to be scrawled across.

Then the light bulb went on.

He saw her pink coat, confidently walking across the paved square as Admiral Nelson stared down at her. Not the only one staring at her he might add. He would recognise her anywhere, even with a new pair of glasses and a fresh pair of heels.

"Betty?"

"Oh! Sorry!"

She took two steps back, her face in disbelief.

"Daniel?"

Was she shocked? Was she scared? Was she creeped out by the fact that he'd stalked her half way across the globe?

"Wow, you were the last person I was expecting. Everything okay? You wanna sit down?"

Here she was, in a completely different country, and still worrying about him.

"Thanks, I'll call you when I get there."

They both chuckled, and her eyes dropped to her feet. Did she realise how beautiful she was, even when she wasn't trying?

"So that's it? You're heading back to New York?"

Did she look disappointed? Was she trying to brush him off?

"No, I think I'm going to stick around here for a while. See what I can find."

Her eyebrow raised. Did she look…relieved? Was she happy he was staying?

Aw, crap, this was it. Now or never Daniel.

"…maybe, take you to dinner. Tonight if you're free."

The pause felt like eternity. His heart was beating so fast he thought he was going to be sick. But he was Daniel Meade. He could keep a straight, calm, suave appearance in the face of adversity if anyone could.

"Thanks, I would love that."

Control the joy, Daniel, control the joy. Don't scare her off by doing a creepy dance in the middle of Trafalgar Square when you've barely started.

He swallowed his beaming smiled and cleared his throat.

"Well I better get back to work. I'm really glad you're here."

He'd done it. He'd taken the leap of faith. Who knew what happened next?

"I'll call you later."

"Great."

She turned to talk away.

"Hey! If you want something to do, I am looking for a new assistant."

"Well, maybe I'll submit my resumé."

That was the joy of the leap of faith. You didn't know what happened next, but you didn't care either.

That's love right? When you know someone better than they do.

I think you know me Betty. Better than I ever will and better than I ever want to.