So here is the first of hopefully many snippets of Daniel and Betty's life together after season 4. This one takes place directly after their dinner date from the finale. Please read and review, let me know what you think and look forward to more Betty and Daniel in the near future 3
-Cheers
"Okay, if our waiter was that enthusiastic without being on drugs, then I'm even more worried about him then if he was high."
I grab a hold of the banister, laughing so hard my stomach hurts, I shake my head.
"He was actually spitting he was talking so fast." I fumble for my keys, hearing the sound of Daniel's expensive shoes on the steps behind me as we climb the three flights up to my London apartment.
"He almost knocked your water over with his exaggerated hang gestures." He mimics the gestures with his own hands, I snort, and put my key in the lock.
Daniel leans against the door frame, his proximity making it difficult for me to turn the key properly, and his eyes on me causing me to take longer than it should to get the door open. I don't get it, I've never felt this way around him before. Well, maybe once or twice, the lock clicks, but that was different.
I smile, a littler nervously at him as he pushes himself off the wall and slips into my apartment.
"Well," I follow after him, placing my keys the bowl I've sat next to the door. "This is it!" I gesture to the small, colourful apartment. The walls painted different shades of brown, yellow and turquois.
"Betty, this is," shoving his hands in his pockets he turns in a circle, looking around the apartment. "This is so Betty." He says through a smile, and I can't help but smile with him.
"Is that a good thing?" I ask, shrugging out my jacket and hanging it on the bright green hooks behind the door.
"It's a very good thing." He nods once, following suit and shrugging out of his own coat.
"Oh," I rush over, taking it from him, and he nods, smirking a little shyly.
"Sorry," I say quietly, walking the jacket to the hooks and placing it next to mine. "Occupational hazard." I clasp my hands together, an awkward silence resting over the entire apartment. Something that happens so rarely whenever I've been with Daniel. But somehow this feels different. Not seeing him for months, with him being in New York and me in London, on the one hand it feels like everything has changed. But on the other, it's as if we've never been apart.
"Right then, a drink, as promised." I break the silence, slipping passed him to the kitchen. Opening my cupboards, and pull two wine glasses from the shelf, wondering for the hundredth time if this is a date, and then go to the fridge. "Well, I don't have any wine," I wrinkle my nose, "But I do have this vanilla vodka left over from the launch party." I hold it up and shake the half empty bottle.
Daniel grimaces, but nods bringing the glasses over.
I pour an inch of the clear liquid in each glass and hand him one.
"To London." I tilt my glass towards him.
"To unemployment." I laugh, he chuckles and he touches his glass to mine.
We both begin to sputter and cough at the same time, as the contents of the cheap alcohol mixed with artificial vanilla flavouring burns our throats.
"Ugh," I shake my head at the girly, perfume-y liquor.
"Ahh," Daniel shakes his head, "It tastes like Amanda," I cover my face, my laughter filling the otherwise empty apartment, his bad joke lingering like a heavy yet comforting reminder of the past between us.
"I'm sorry, this is terrible," I look at the bottle, screwing the lid back on and placing it next to the sink, taking the two glasses and rinsing the toxic vanilla rubbing alcohol out of them.
"So you really left Mode?" I wipe my hands on a tea towel, chucking it onto the small island, then leaning against the counter.
"I really did." He nods, shoving hid hands in his pockets, he rests opposite me next to my fridge.
"I think what you're doing is really brave."
He doesn't say anything, he only looks at me. His eyes seem to search mine for something, though I'm not sure he finds it, because he doesn't look away. The small apartment begins to feel even smaller as his look begins to melt through me.
"You do?" And then I know that we aren't just talking about him leaving Mode, or getting on a plane, or uprooting his entire life.
We're talking about us.
He pushes himself off of the counter, slowly walking around the island in my tiny kitchen, he looks down at his feet.
"Yeah," my throat is dry and it comes out as a crackly whisper. I clear it, and try again, "I mean, you've been there your entire professional career, you've built a reputation there…" My words falter as the gap between us begins to close. "And Daniel I think you should know that you don't need you last name or your fancy reputation to get you where you want to go, you were a great boss, and a great editor in chief and magazines all over London would be lucky to have you…"
I've completely lost my train of thought, he's so close that I can smell the mild, familiar scent of his expensive cologne on his sports coat, and the dark chocolate from tonight's dessert on his breath.
"Betty," it looks as if he's fighting a smile, "You're talking a lot."
"Oh," I push up glasses, and press myself into the counter behind me, fighting the urge to take a step forward. I've held Daniel before, and he's held me; but I can't help but wonder what it would be like, right now, having just been to dinner with wine and a live jazz band. With him having appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and back into my life; not as my boss, not as my friend, but as this entirely new facet of himself; a completely blank canvas waiting to be made into something extraordinary. Yeah, I wonder what that embrace would feel like…
I apologise and he smiles.
"Do you think," He's stopped just inches from me, his hands in his pockets, his head stooped to try and catch my eye line, "there will ever be a time, when I'm not going to be just, 'Daniel Meade, your boss'?" he has lowered his voice to match my quiet volume.
"Well that is a," his hand moves from his pocket, reaching forward touching his finger tips to the back of my hand that hangs loose by my side. "Is a, uhm, complicated question…" Goose bumps spring up under his careful touch. "Because Daniel, you're not the same man I met almost five years ago. You've changed so much that I don't even know if I would recognize that guy anymore." My words come faster as my barriers begin to crumble far too easily, just at his closeness alone. "But you will always be Daniel Meade." My heart seems to slow, calming itself as I finish this sentence.
Because it's the truth. The man standing in from of me has come so far from the womanizer I used to work for. But he's still the same Daniel I got coffee for on that first day. The same man I comforted at the passing of his wife. The man who was so against me leaving that he nearly burned his office down. He's still crazy, passionate, impulsive Daniel.
He removes his hand from mine, placing it carefully back into his pocket, looking down, his eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
"And you may not believe that, or be able to see the change as much as the people around you can, but Daniel believe me when I tell you this." I finally reach out, grasping him by the arms and looking into his eyes with as much warmth as I can muster. "You have never been 'just a boss' to me."
His eyes seem to focus on the cabinets behind me for a moment, his eyes glazing over as my words sink in. and with a small nod, he blinks, his eyes coming back to me as he closes the space between us.
It has never been a burning question in my mind, what kissing Daniel Meade would be like; but right now, in this moment, I can't help but wonder why not.
His kiss is not demanding. His kiss doesn't ask for anything, it's all giving. His mouth is soft against mine; and as my grip on his biceps loosens, his hands fall from his pockets and onto my hips as I let him ease me away from the counter top, towards him.
He pulls away, the air between us is quiet and shallow. This time it's my mouth that reaches for his and he lets me pull him back in, my hand sliding up his arm and neck, holding him against me. It's not rushed, the way so many first kisses are. It's as if we're exploring each other, like a silent conversation that seems to go on for a lifetime. It's beautiful and terrifying and it's all ours. Unexpected tears burn behind my eyelids, branding this overwhelming moment as they threaten to spill onto my cheeks.
And when he steps into me, deepening the connection, his lips catching mine in that way that makes your head spin and your stomach do summersaults, my heart skips and I place a hand on his chest, breaking away; my heavy breathing matching his.
"Sorry," He whispers into the air between us, leaning his forehead into mine.
A breathy laugh escapes my mouth as I shake my head, silently forgiving him for making my skin flush and my heart race; for making me cry.
"Betty, what's wrong?" he can see the moisture in my eyes and I can't comprehend his ridiculous question. What could be wrong with that moment?
"Nothing," I smile through my tears, quickly swiping as one falls silently, "I think I just really missed you." I push my hands through my hair, my neck damp with sweat. He's still standing so close; it's hot in here. "Yeah," I nod, looking up into his clear and curious eyes. "I'm really glad you're here."
He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners the way they do when his smile is genuine. "Do you work tomorrow?" He takes a step back, thank God, he makes it difficult to breathe when he's within kissing distance.
"You mean on a Wednesday?" I raise my eyebrows at him, "Yes Daniel, I work."
"Well then I'm coming by your place of work," the way he says it, it doesn't sound like a question. "You can show me your fancy office and I can take you to lunch."
I bite a smile at the thought of Daniel in my London world, and loving how it feels. As if we're the only two people in this life. If people saw us at lunch together tomorrow they won't think 'there goes that handsome millionaire with his dorky assistant.' It's like we get to start again, only now, we're both the people we're meant to be.
"It's a date." I nod, slipping past him, grabbing his jacket from the hook and holding it out to him; forcing him to leave before I change my mind and decide to keep him here forever. He smiles a small smile and takes it from me.
"Yeah, it is." Leaning in, too quickly for me to react, he presses a kiss just below my temple. "Goodnight Betty."
I hold the door for him, watching him shrug into his jacket, "Night Daniel."
I wait until the staircase leads him out of sight before closing the door and leaning up against it. Unable to keep the smile from my face, I press my palms to my blushing cheeks. Willing my heart to return to its regular pace.
I walk through my small apartment, turning off the lights, closing the blinds, changing out of my fitted turquois dress and black heels and into an oversized pajama shirt; smiling all the while.