Accusations d'amour

A/N: this little fic is set during the time when Betty is still with Walter. It may or may not be D/B in the end.

With your boss

"Wow, this is really cool," Betty said. "I mean, I'm going to Paris!" The overload of enthusiasm in her voice was to make up for the expressly disgruntled expressions of her family members.

"Yes, you are," Hilda agreed. "The capital of romance."

Betty smiled widely at her sister, happy to finally hear a positive thing instead of another lecture about you've never been out of this continent before what do you think you'll do if you get lost you never even took French you don't even know the people you're going with very well - well, you get the gist.

"With your boss," Hilda then added, rather ruining the previous supportive effect.

Betty sighed. "Hilda...do you want me to be…in love with Daniel, or something? You can't stop bringing it up whenever you can."

"Well I can't help it," Hilda said. "You give me so many opportunities – that all night date –"

"It was a business dinner."

"-answering his phone calls all the time, talking about his problems all the time –"

"I do not!"

"Daniel this, Daniel that – oh and him spending Christmas here drunk -"

"That was because of Sofia."

"Yeah, well, I'm just saying. Plenty of times huh."

There was a silence, and after a three second gap of safety Betty felt relaxed enough in the truce to exhale –

"Really, Paris, Betty. That's like someplace you should go with your boyfriend."

"Well, I'm not," Betty said, skimming over yet another Daniel-boyfriend-inference. "Not going there with Walter, that is. Seriously, Hilda, Walter had a problem with me working at Mode. How do you think he'd handle a week in Paris? Pretentious views, pretentious language..." She rolled her eyes.

"Hey, chica. He's your boyfriend," Hilda said, raising an eyebrow.

"I know," Betty mumbled.

Lacking enthusiasm, aren't we, Hilda thought, and for once keeping her thoughts to herself. This seemed more serious, something not to joke about. It seemed Betty really wasn't…into…Walter anymore, no matter how sweet he was or how hard he tried. It just…wasn't there.

"Speaking of Walter, how did he react to this news?" Ignacio asked, while trying to unbend the frown that had stuck to his face since Betty had announced her trip.

"Oh you know," Betty said, vaguely. "Like Walter does."

Hilda narrowed her eyes at Betty. "You haven't told him, have you?"

Betty was silent; Hilda tapped her foot on the floor rather menacingly, once.

"Okay! I haven't!" Betty said.

"Ooh," Hilda said, smirking slightly.

"Don't go at it again, Hilda," Betty warned. "I haven't told him…yet. And because…I don't think he'd take it well. At all."

"Oh I don't know," Hilda mused. "I'd be pretty cool with the thought of my girlfriend jetting off to the most romantic city in the world with the most notorious playboy of New York."

"The notorious playboy who happens," Betty said, through gritted teeth, "to be my boss and my friend."

"Friend-"

"Stop," came a weak voice from the kitchen table. "Me duele la cabeza."

The two girls turned to the source, which turned out to be a feeble looking Ignacio at the kitchen table.

"Papi never gets headaches," Betty said. "You are some talker, Hilda."

"Why –"

Ignacio groaned melodramatically.

Betty sighed and turned over in her bed.

Really, Hilda would need to tone it down. She was getting extremely irritating. It wasn't even vaguely amusing any more.

Papi would let her go, because it was work – Fashion Week 2007 – and it wasn't like she didn't know Daniel, he'd grudgingly admitted.

Walter…she'd probably work up the nerve to tell him tomorrow. Heck, she had to. It was Friday tomorrow and she couldn't leave it till the weekend; that'd be too last minute, as she left on Monday.

Paris would be fun. A new experience in Europe, somewhere completely out of the sphere of the continent of America. And it wouldn't be scary, not with Daniel there to…

Er, not protect her. Not quite take care of her. Those all sounded too…boyfriend-y…

Don't become your own Hilda! Betty scolded herself. The real one is plenty talk already.

Anyway. What was she thinking? Oh yeah. It wouldn't be scary, not with Daniel there to talk to, or, um, have fun with.

Patting her stuffed bear on the head, she dozed off eventually.