A/N: Hi everyone! So, in attempting to write Life, Laughter, and Love, I got a plot bunny for this story here, but unfortunately have nothing right now for Life, Laughter, and Love...probably because this is so forward in my mind right now. So this is what we came up with!

Summary: By chance, Don meets his dream girl. Now he's on a mission to make her happy and, little by little, figure out her mysterious story.

Disclaimer: I only own the

Don Flack was pretty sure that at age 23, he should be allowed to choose where he wanted to spend his evenings on his own.

Unfortunately for him, on this particular evening, he was not able to choose on his own; his mother had demanded his (and all his siblings) presence at the Benefit for Children's Cancer she was hosting.

All the stuffy New York socialites were there, much to Don's dismay, and he had been spending most of his night either avoiding his current girlfriend (who he was trying to break up with) or his ex-girlfriends (the majority of who were also in attendance).

It wasn't that he had anything against his mother's benefits. In fact, if he was going to have to attend a benefit, he'd prefer his mother's over any others. At least she knew how to have a good time. She also made sure the bar was always fully stocked with things she knew her children enjoyed.

He was enjoying an expensive scotch when Devon finally managed to dip her claws into him. "Darling, I've been looking for you everywhere,"

From across the room, Don caught his best friend's eye and quickly looked away before he started laughing. Danny Messer was a good friend for the most part, but completely unsympathetic to Don's girl troubles (mostly because Danny had enough trouble of his own getting rid of his girlfriends). "Hi, doll,"

Devon looped her arm through his, gently tugging him toward a table. "Come, I want you to meet my friends." Come? What was he, a dog of some sorts? But he allowed her to lead him to a table, sitting in his seat, ordering another scotch as he paid no attention as she introduced her friends and began speaking to them. "But I'm sure he knows me just as well, right Donnie?"

He winced; there were a select few people that were able to get away with calling him Donnie, and Devon was certainly not one of them. "Sure do, sweets," He threw his arm casually around her shoulders.

"Prove it," Devon's eyes sparkled, as she looked around at the table of tuxedo clad men and women in dresses.

Shit. He was screwed. "You have green eyes,"

"Even I knew that," The guy sitting across from them chuckled.

Shit. "You love chocolate,"

"I'm allergic," She frowned.

"You didn't let me finish," He covered. "You love chocolate but you can't have it. Because you're allergic."

Devon blinked and Don tried to think quickly. "Oh, I know." He leaned in, causing the entire table to lean in as well. "Devon waxes her…"

He was cut off by a sharp pain in his cheek and the loud crack that only came from a hard slap. "My name is Danielle!"

Don blinked a couple times, before standing up and taking off after Devon—Danielle, who had gone running. "Danielle, wait, I'm sorry, I'm kidding, it was a joke," He gently grabbed her arm, turning her around to face him, realizing too late this wasn't his brightest move. Tears were running down her face and her eyes were red with anger. "Please don't cry," He hated crying; crying women was the one thing he couldn't quite seem to handle.

Danielle started screaming, throwing profanities at him, stomping her foot repeatedly. He allowed her to rant, thinking it was better she get her anger out on the floor, rather than on him. "IT'S OVER, DON!" She ran out of the ballroom.

Don sighed, looking at the scene they had caused, before following her out just in time to see her shoot a glare at him before pulling the cab door closed.

The crisp air of the late March night felt cool against his skin and Don opted to go for a walk, rather than go back into the benefit. The night was strangely silent, especially for the city, and he found himself wishing for something to go down. Anything to break the silence.

Then a door opened and a tall brunette was thrown out of the door amidst loud screaming and lewd jeers. Don began a quick walk over toward her, which broke into a jog once he heard her crying, and a full on sprint when he saw the bruises on her face and limbs.

The brunette was crying and she laid on the floor, gently holding onto her left wrist. "Are you ok?" Don asked softly, afraid to scare her.

The brunette whipped her head around. Her mouth was red with blood, her brown eyes looked dull and tired, and her dark hair was all knotted up, but there was something familiar about her that Don couldn't quite place.

And even bloody and bruised, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

"I'm ok, don't worry about me," The brunette gave him a small smile as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

The desire to comfort her, to be her friend, overwon his instinct to be a cop. "What's your name?"

"Dallas," Dallas. He tried to place the name in his head but couldn't come up with anything,

"I'm Don," He told her, reaching his hand down to help her stand up. "We should probably get you home now, could you tell me where you live?"

With her non-injured hand, she pointed at the door she had just come out of. "There, well, not anymore, I guess."

"You guess?" He looked directly into her eyes. "'Cause I know,"

Her eyes narrowed. "I can take care of myself, you know. Thank you for your help," She said flatly, before hobbling away, still managing to move her hips in a way that caused him to take several seconds before going after her.

"Dallas, wait!" She didn't look back, but she did stop walking, allowing him time to catch up. "Shouldn't we get you cleaned up? Get you into some clean clothes?"

Dallas shot him a look. "Sure, I'll just pull a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt out of my back pocket and throw them on right now," She said dryly.

He cracked a grin. "Let's go," He said.

"Where?"

"Hospital,"

"Uh-uh," She shook her head. "No hospitals,"

"You can't even let your left wrist hang by itself," He argued.

"No hospitals," Dallas said firmly.

"Then where can we go?"

Dallas shrugged. "You were the one who said 'let's go'."

He frowned, scanning the area; she had a point. Now he had to come up with something. His eyes spotted a diner, down at the corner. "Tillery's," He pointed. Dallas nodded, slowly walking toward the diner at the end of the road.

They walked in silence, even though he was dying to ask what happened. She didn't offer any information, but they finally made it into the diner, and he marched her past the servers and customers into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

"Everyone's staring," She muttered softly, as he wet a bunch of paper towels.

"Here," He passed her the paper towels and she began mopping up the blood running down her limbs. He mentally took inventory of all her cuts and bruises; if she wasn't willing to go to a hospital, there was no way he'd manage to get her into the precinct. That didn't mean he wasn't going to make note of everything he could.

Dallas hesitated once she had mopped the blood from her arms and legs. He wet a clean paper towel and gently brushed it over her face. Her eyes were closed, but it gave him the opportunity to check out the damage. With the exception of the wrist (which he hoped was just a sprain), nothing looked broken. There were some old bruises and some new ones, which had barely begun to form.

What concerned him was the blood; there was too much to come from the shallow cuts on her limbs. He made a mental note to ask her later.

Don lightly brushed over her face once more, soaking up its perfection. She was truly radiant; it killed him to think that someone could have the mindset to have done this to her.

In his mind, they were kissing already. She was backed up against the wall, her fingers lightly playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. He had one arm around her waist and his other hand was anchored in her hair. But he couldn't. Not yet, at least.

Reluctantly, he pulled away and threw the paper towel in the trash. "How about some coffee?"

Dallas nodded. "Sure…and thanks,"

Don gave her a small smile as he opened the door to the bathroom, allowing her to exit. She led him to a booth close by, sliding into one side. He slid in across from her, as the waitress came to take their order. "Cream and sugar?"

"Black, please," Dallas said softly.

"The same," Don added, not taking his eyes off of Dallas.

They didn't speak as they waited for their coffee. He, for once, didn't know what to say and she seemed not to be in the mood for talking. He took a large sip once his coffee arrived, immediately spitting it out. "Shit!" He swore.

Dallas laughed and Don swore right then and there that he would do anything to hear that sound just one more time. "Watch out, it's hot," She teased, taking a small sip of her own coffee, making a face. "Ugh, it is hot,"

"Should have learned from the master," He joked.

Dallas raised her eyebrows. "It's pretty uncool to refer to yourself as 'the master'."

"Know what else is uncool? Those assholes who did this to you,"

"Nice job with the subject change,"

"Something I excel in," He paused. "Please don't try and change the subject back; I just want to know what happened,"

Dallas shrugged. "Unlucky in love. Or lust, I guess; it wasn't really love." He must have looked confused because she continued. "I fall for the wrong guys. You know, rich, good-looking, trust fund. Usually likes alcohol a little too much and has jerky friends."

"The guy every girl wants," Don said, making a note to not mention his own trust fund, at the moment at least.

Dallas shrugged. "Think I may have finally learned my lesson on that one."

"Good," He said, finishing his coffee.

She gave him a small smile and the finished her own coffee. "Now what?"

Don frowned. He wasn't quite ready to give her up yet, but he had nothing planned. "Wanna go somewhere?"

Dallas shrugged. "Where?"

Don grinned and stood up. "An adventure," He held his hand out for her to take.

Dallas looked skeptically at his hand, then at his face, and then back at his hand, before placing her hand in his and allowing him to help her up. "I don't like surprises," She told him.

Don grinned at her. "We'll have to change that."

A/N: Ok, so what did we think? Should I continue it more or just end it here? Drop a review and let me know.