"Unbelievable" Claire would sometimes mutter as she walked past her son, shaking her head. It had become her little mantra of sorts, her way of letting him know her disapproval over what was occurring in his private life.

"You're one to talk" he would reply, keeping his eyes straight ahead as always, never making eye contact. Her little business with Cal was something she had ignored his opinion of, and it almost infuriated him that she, with her hollow boyfriend, could turn her nose so easily at him, as though she were better. "Well, one can always pretend, right mom?" he would think to himself as he gathered his things to leave the office.

And today was no different. She had given him no shortage of disapproving glares in the hallway, her only way of communicating with him aside from her occasional utterance of disgust. As he stepped into the elevator, he had to wonder whether she was right or not; maybe he was making a mistake, being with the last person anyone would've thought he would end up with.

Wilhelmina.

Her name alone was enough to send shivers through the heart of any intern. She was notorious for her aloof, cool demeanor; for her imposing presence; for her remarkable attention to detail and uncanny sense of what would be a hit and what would not. Her opinion determined whether or not up and coming designers would rise to the top or end up in a tiny apartment, cursing forever her ability to see their lack of talent.

As Daniel made his way from the elevator and slid into the backseat of his town car, he mused about their relationship in years prior. She had been unstoppable in her desire to see him thrown out of Mode. Looking back on it now, he could understand why; she, who had clawed her way to the top, only to come face to face with a rich man's son who was handed a position she'd given up everything for. At first, they could barely make it through a day together. But as the years drew on, they had become dependant on one another. They were each other's fuel, and they'd suffered through the near collapse of their company together, and had come out on the other side, with a greater respect for one another. But sometimes Daniel wondered whether or not he was making a mistake. Was it really so wise to end up with someone just because one enjoyed picking at the other, pushing all the buttons to see what would happen? Daniel suffered this uneasy session of self-evaluation everyday after work; he didn't like not speaking to his mother, but he didn't like being told what to do like a child while she gallivanted about with a person she knew he couldn't stand.

The town car pulled to a halt and Daniel trudged slowly toward the elevator. He heard the doors ding shut as he fiddled with the keys in his pockets. He sometimes felt as though his life at the moment was part of some strange dream, and that at any given time he would wake up in his apartment, go to work, and spend the day gleefully taunting Wilhelmina as she rolled her eyes and fired back insults. But as the elevator doors opened, he knew he was really here, living a life with someone that few could comprehend. He opened her apartment door and shut it softly, placing his things gently on the floor. He looked up and saw her there, in a black silk negligee, sitting on the couch staring up at him.

"She told you to leave me again didn't she?" she asked, her face not revealing any traces of emotion.

Daniel sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets, staring back at Wilhelmina. "In the same way she always does, with grunts and disapproving words."

"I don't know why your mother is so worried about you. In all honesty, you're the one with the upper hand here. You've never been as lonely as I have; you were never in a relationship with a con-man who took you for everything and waited until your loneliness brought you back; you don't have a child who hates you so much she'll be laughing at your funeral." She sighed, lying down on the couch and looking up at the ceiling. "I won't make you stay here if you don't want to. I don't want you here for your sympathy."

Daniel crossed the room, still feeling as though he weren't sure whether or not he should be here. He sat down beside her and looked into her eyes, seeing the traces of vulnerability that sometimes made their way to the surface. "I'm not here because I feel bad for you Wilhelmina; I'm here because I understand you, and you understand me, but I'll be the first to admit that I don't know how it happened."

It was always at this moment that Daniel's distress disappeared. He went through the same thing everyday because his mother spent so much time tormenting him at work that he almost felt he should feel guilty. But as he bent over Wilhelmina and kissed her cheek, breathing in her delicate perfume, he knew he was where he should be. Odd as it was, and as much as people hated them for it, they needed one another.

"Don't ever tell me you love me, Daniel" she said suddenly.

Daniel pulled back in surprise. "Why?"

She laughed quietly, a sad laugh as she turned her eyes to his. "Because the moment those words leave your mouth, they won't be true anymore."

Daniel understood what she was saying. He knew it was her way of telling him to do whatever it took not to break her heart; knew that she feared the words, not because they might come from him, but because she'd heard them many times before, and they'd always led to some sad, broken ending.

He stood up and looked down at her. "I won't…there's no point; you've always known what I was feeling anyway."

Wilhelmina looked up at him, and she knew what he was trying to tell her: that the bullets he dodged everyday, that the breakdown in his relationship with his mother, should be enough to convince her of how he felt.

Daniel turned and made his way toward their bedroom, wanting desperately to unwind.

"Daniel."

Her voice stopped him and he turned to face her. She got up from her place on the couch and moved toward the kitchen before looking up at him.

"It's about time you made it home for dinner" she smirked, cocking her brow as she left the living room.

Daniel watched her go, smiling to himself. He was glad there was no need for words.