Name: New Year's Resolution
Rating: PG
Synopsis: A new year's fic. Daniel and Betty make plans.
Disclaimer: Nothings mine, please don't sue! I'm but a lowly Irish student. A lowly student who adores feedback...x
I've got a new year's resolution
I think I know what I've gotta do
I've got a new year's resolution - gettin' over you.
Betty didn't know why she had ended up here, particularly at this time of year, at this hour of the night. It wasn't planned, it hadn't played on her mind, she had merely made up and excuse to her family about leaving the oven on and left before midnight. She had become oddly overwhelmed by the activity in the Suarez household tonight. It all became a little too much.
So she came here. She could hear the bustle from the city, the noise from Times Square echoing across the bridge. The wind suddenly picked up sending a chill down her spine. Drawing her hands around her middle she rubbed each arm to return some of the heat. Thinking about it, she found it funny how far she had come thanks to some rather cruel reasoning by Bradford Meade. She had a lot to thank that man for really. Her life may have been entirely different if it weren't for the lack of faith he had in his son. Betty found it strange to think that this lack of faith, this same lack that was the bane of her best friend's existence, was the reason she had such fortune and luck. It was an odd paradox, and not one she liked.
She tried to imagine a world without Mode, without Christina, without Daniel. She couldn't even fathom it now. It was strange for her to think this would be the complete opposite three years ago. If someone told her she would be the friend and assistant to the most famous playboy in Manhattan she would have laughed in their faces. Especially at the friend part. She wondered how many years she would have left like this. She had grown quite accustomed her life and although ambitious she was sometimes concerned she'd lose something important. But she hadn't quite figured out what this something important was yet. She thought when she lost Henry her life would end. She had never quite felt pain like it before. It was quite the experience for both her head and heart. She filed it somewhere safe, somewhere quiet so that for the next time she fell in love she wouldn't remember Henry, and therefore wouldn't remember the pain that went along with the break up. Betty knew this was a fault of hers. Even if she got hurt, if someone betrayed her, although something would be learnt it wouldn't really affect her decision making on something similar next time. She often thought she was doomed to have her heart broken repeatedly – she rarely let the pain shut her off from the world. It wasn't that it wasn't horribly gut wrenching and movies-with-chocolate-ice-cream-and-tissues inducing, it was rather when she found someone else or something else the pain of previous experience seemed to be forgotten. Daniel once called her stupid for being so naive. He was probably right. She let him hurt her over and over. But she had faith in Daniel Meade. He seemed to learn and get better. She realised he was probably her best achievement, and she was quite proud of the man he was becoming. Even if tonight he was probably ringing in the New Year on the copy machine with some gorgeous model. If this year had taught Betty Suarez anything it was that a) people could surprise you and b) very few would stick around forever. She really hoped Daniel would continue doing both of these things.
I've got some old friends I think I'm losing
I've got some new ones that I'm not talking to
But all of my new year's resolutions are getting old to you
"The ball's about to drop ya know?"
The male voice startled her and the insane, irrational New Yorker in her was already searching her handbag for her deodorant spray. It was a while before it registered with her, the gentle hand on her lower back and the familiarity of both smell and voice.
"Daniel?" she asked, blinking like an owl. He appeared at her side, wrapped in a long Prada coat, matching cashmere scarf and leather gloves. The ridiculous thought of how handsome he looked, crossed her mind and she laughed inwardly. That wasn't exactly a shocking revelation, she wasn't blind, it just surprised her how she chose to notice now, and how her throat kind of swelled and dried up.
He smiled gently, the twinkle of the lights across the river catching in the reflection of his eyes.
"What are you doing out here? Don't you have a great big family?" he asked, leaning back on the railings.
"Don't you have a great big party?" she countered, her pink tongue darting out quickly. He laughed. He sometimes forgot the age difference between them. Most often because she acted ten years his senior.
"Touché," he chuckled, "I did. Or I mean there was. It all got a bit much."
"It did or she did?"
He loved their easy back and forth. They had found their rhythm, but if he thought about it, it wasn't exactly hard to find. It seemed to always be there.
"No, she wasn't enough," he replied, his voice lowering. She noticed he did this with a lot of the models in the office. The lower octave, husky voice really worked for him. She briefly wondered why he was using it with her. Instead of dwelling she let out a giggle.
A giggle? Did Betty Suarez really just giggle at Daniel Meade? She shook herself. Maybe she had a few too many champagnes with dinner.
"You didn't answer my question," Daniel reminded her, oblivious to her utter confusion at her own odd behaviour.
"I just felt like ringing in the New Year alone," she replied after a lengthy pause. He arched an eyebrow, turning to lean forwards out to the water.
"I'd leave you to it, but I planned to be here," he told her, avoiding her surprised gaze and staring at the city.
"Planned?"
"The way I figured it, this year, I wanna try this new thing of doing it alone. So start as I mean to go on."
She wrinkled her nose and Daniel absently thought of what a cute little button nose she had.
"What you mean alone?"
"I've always relied on people Betty. I've always had someone there. I've never just been...by myself...remember when you went travelling alone? I think this year...it's just something I have to do by myself."
Betty felt her heart pound in her chest, emotions flooding her. Panic gave way to confusion, then sheer fear. Was he telling her he didn't want her there anymore? Was he feeling depressed? She wanted to ask him so much.
Her sudden silence registered with Daniel and he glanced sideways, catching her distant stare. He wasn't too great with women and their emotions, so he just thought he'd better ask straight out.
"You alright Betty?"
"Yeah...fine," she choked out. But she wasn't. That all too familiar pain that she felt just before Henry left came shooting back into her chest, and she felt winded, like she couldn't breathe. He wasn't ready to be without her yet. It wasn't time.
"I think you should do the same."
"W-what?" she stammered.
"Be alone. You could concentrate on YETI. Nothing to distract you," he suggested, his finger tracing over the top of the steel bar. She felt bile rising up, threatening to explode on the sidewalk. She wasn't sure why the thought of leaving Mode terrified her this much. Why leaving Daniel terrified her this much.
"I...I suppose...I mean I could get a new job, meet new people..."
"What?"
His voice sounded shrill and she looked up from the spot she had focused on, on the ground. "What?"
"You're thinking of leaving Mode?" he clarified. His face seemed to drain of colour and his hand had now instinctively gone to her sleeve, tugging on it like a child.
"I...I thought you wanted to be alone?" she asked.
"I mean romantically Betty," he breathed, still clutching the fabric of her sleeve, "Like no models, no girls, no sex...well maybe a little sex..."
He heard her laugh, this relieved sound and the same feeling flooded him. Unsure why the thought of the other suddenly absenting themselves from each other's lives scared them so much, confused them both. Daniel looks down at where his finger is now repeatedly stroking the fabric of her black coat. He missed the garish blue of her old one. She too watched his hand with such interest she felt she could get lost in the sensation of his touch. It was comforting for a man, any man, to show such affection.
"You're not wearing gloves," he said aloud. She looked at the bare skin of her hands and gives a crooked smile.
"I thought they were in my coat pocket, I must have left them in my old jacket," she told him making him chuckle. Their thoughts were never too far apart. Unconsciously he took both hands in his, pulling them to his face and cupping them near his mouth. His breath felt warm as he let out long huffs against her skin, rubbing the skin gently. She was so lost in the sensation she briefly forgot who and where they were. And as charming as his concern was, she felt it was crossing this invisible line. A line to what she wasn't yet sure, but she was pretty sure they were crossing it. It was however the feeling of his lips, brushing on the palm of her hand, that made her pull away sharply, as if burnt.
"Better?" he asked, noticeably confused by her forceful rebuff. She nodded and forced a smile.
"Much. Thanks."
"It's two minutes past." She looked up, her brow furrowed. "Midnight. It's New Years," he continued.
"Oh...yeah..."
"Happy New Year," he smiled, clearly not noticing his best friend's inner emotional turmoil. This furthered her thinking it was merely a simple gesture. Something to warm her hands. He was awfully protective after all.
"Yeah, happy new year," she responded, surprised when he pulled her into a big hug, squeezing her tightly. She buried further in, her nose pressed to the skin of his neck, the intoxicating smell of his cologne making her a little dizzy. He pulled back and she felt even woozier by the sudden loss of a huge manly figure holding her upright.
It was now however that he did something that surprised them both. He leaned down again and she watched as he planted a feather light kiss on top of her lips. It was soft, gentle, hardly anything, but it left such a tingling sensation that she had this silly urge to touch where their lips had met. Daniel briefly wondered why he had kissed her but put it down to merely a reflex New Years action. Hell, even Becks had gotten the odd friendly New Year's kiss.
His arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders, squeezing her.
"Here's to 2009," he said smiling, "with no romantic entanglements."
She nodded in agreement, words still lost somewhere in the depths of her throat.
"No romantic entanglements."
So here's to the love
The love that we had
Here's to the time
The good and the bad
Here's to the ones you never forget
Here's to the year that we had