Obligatory disclaimer: None of the characters and/or brand names mentioned are mine, no moola made, don't sue, blah-di-blah.

A/N: Oh, guys, I think an apology is in order. My muse, the flighty little beyotch, has been deserting me for quite some time. I can assure you all that I haven't forgotten my WIPs or my awesome readers/reviewers. I just didn't want to churn out sub-par chapters for the sake up updating quickly. But here's a new mini-fic until I can get my creativity in a firm headlock and tell it to mind. Hope you enjoy!

It had been overcast on the twenty-fifth of May, the sun in a battle with persistent clouds, the day Rosa broke her arm.

Betty remembered the day down to the last detail—the date, the weather, the temperature, what Rosa was wearing, the sickening thud, the world spiraling inward before her eyes and zooming in with crystal clarity on her daughter lying in a tiny, crumpled, sobbing heap under the monkey bars.

But what Betty recalled most vividly was the dread in the pit of her stomach at the thought of calling Daniel to tell him that his baby girl had gotten her first broken bone. In Betty's care. On Betty's watch.

God, what kind of mother am I? Betty thought in that irrational, bat-shit torrent of first-time-mother guilt and anxiety. It's bad enough that she broke her arm, but she could have broken her neck, in that brief second I looked away, or, God, some pedophile could've snatched her. Never, ever look away! It's Parenting: 101, moron!

Luckily, none of these useless-ass thoughts had any time to really sink in, what with scooping Rosa up in a little wailing bundle in her jacket, trying desperately to buckle her into the backseat of the SUV in a way that the seatbelt wouldn't jostle her arm, and nearly pulling a hit-and-run on at least a dozen of NYC's finest citizens in her mad dash to the emergency room.

All this was on pure adrenaline-fueled instinct, mind you. Otherwise, she would've been curled up under the park bench chewing on her hair with Rosa in her arms.

And if her own reaction had been less than stellar, Daniel's would probably usher in an apocalypse of some sort. Of the two of them, Daniel was by far the most rabidly protective. He'd been that way since Rosa had existed, which meant that for four years running, he'd won the Mama Grizzly Achievement Award hands down. And that was if one didn't count Rosa's time in Betty's uterus.

Uber-Daddy!Daniel wouldn't have been sitting on the park bench watching his kid play like mere mortals. Oh, no, precious. He'd have been hunkered down underneath the monkey bars holding Rosa up by the waist so she didn't fall, a habit that both Betty and an increasingly independent Rosa were eager to break him of.

"Oh, for crap's sake, Daniel," Betty had told him once at their pool. "Get all up out of the Kool-Aid and let her breathe."

Daniel had responded by covertly flipping her the bird, but he'd reluctantly released Rosa so she could float all of three feet away in her little pink water-wings.

Now, standing in the doctor's office and watching the cast being put on her daughter's arm, Betty had a feeling that Daniel would want to do a great deal more than playfully flip her off this time.

She flipped open her cell, took a deep breath, selected Daniel's number from the list, and dialed.

On the fourth ring, he answered. "What's up, babe?"

Betty knew stalling was pointless, but she couldn't help it. "Um, where are you?"

Daniel, by the tone of his response, was already wary. "My office. Where I always am this time of day and, Betty, you know this. Look, did something happen? You sound totally weird."

"Daniel, I've got to tell you something but you have to promise you won't freak, alright?"

"Nice opening, there, Betty."

"Rosa broke her arm, but, Daniel, she's fine." Her words tumbled out in a rush, and she prayed that he'd understood her so she wouldn't have to repeat herself.

"How?" His voice sounded deeper than usual.

This was where the fun started. "She was on the monkey bars and fell. She must've landed on it wrong. Daniel, I swear, I only looked away for one second, and when I turned back around, she was on the ground. I'm so…"

"Betty, if you dare apologize for this, you really will have something to be sorry about," Daniel interrupted firmly, in that no-nonsense, business-executive-y voice that was both comforting and extremely hot.

"But if you were there, she would've…"

"Done exactly the same thing. Because I would've been sitting on the park bench, holding your hand, watching our kid grow up too fast."

Betty suddenly had a headache. She put her hand to her forehead and couldn't think of what to say.

"Betty?" Daniel asked softly, after a moment.

"Yeah." She cursed the shakiness of her voice.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I…I am."

She could hear him smiling in that way that turned her guts inside out, in the best way possible. "No, you're not. Can I talk to her?"

"Sure." Betty arranged her features in a way that she hoped conveyed Strong!Capable!Mom!Betty and turned to face her daughter. Rosa had a wrinkle in between her brows and was picking at the cast in wonder; all her tears had stopped a long time ago. "Sweetie, Daddy wants to talk to you."

Rosa briefly looked up from her perusal of the cast, a smile on her face but with her brows still knit in concentration, and reached her good arm (Betty's index finger and thumb could've wrapped around it and met) to take the phone. She looked for the world like Daniel taking a business call while he was in the middle of paperwork.

"Hi, Daddy," she said in her practical little voice.

"Hey, baby girl. Mommy said you had an accident. Does it still hurt?"

"Not much," she sighed, as if breaking her arm was a minor yet annoying inconvenience to her daily agenda, which doubtless included collecting bugs and searching for unicorns that pooped rainbows.

"Well, I'll be right over to kiss it and make it better, anyway."

"Alright." This sounded reasonable to Rosa. "Mommy looks sick. You could kiss her, too."

Daniel leaned back in his chair. "I'll do that, baby. I will definitely do that."

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Dinner that night was ice cream sandwiches with strawberry filling, Rosa's favorite. From her perspective, breaking her arm had turned out to be great fun. Justin had come over to bedazzle her cast with glitter and Elmo stickers, and she was as proud of the hunk of plaster attached to her arm as if it had been a Gucci handbag.

Getting her to sit still while they wrapped the cast in plastic wrap in preparation for her bath was the tricky part, but once she was in the warm, soapy water, the stress of the day came into full effect.

Her head began to nod, even as Betty gently lifted her arm to wash underneath it. Rosa yawned hugely and slumped over like a rag doll. She rested against Daniel's arm for the remainder of the bath, her head fitting into his open palm.

Daniel eyed Betty, silently asking which one would put her to bed, and Betty gave him a small "You do the honors" smile. Daniel nodded in understanding and carried Rosa, ensconced in a fluffy towel, out of the bathroom. Now it was Betty's turn to slump against the porcelain toilet in exhaustion.

It was, she mused, a position she would have to get used to for the next few months.

She was still on the floor, staring off blankly, when Daniel returned about ten minutes later.

Betty looked up. "She down?"

Daniel shook his head. "Down and out like a light. That's the easiest she's gone to bed since…ever."

Betty grinned tiredly. "Oh, like you'd know anything about it. You'd let her stay up and eat popcorn and bounce on the bed 24-7 if it was up to you. M-O-M-M-Y here is the one that has to lay her down after you rile her up." With that, she pointed an accusing finger at him with a mock-glare.

Daniel grinned back sheepishly and took her index finger in one fist, pretending to strain to pull her up. He really had no good comeback to that one. He himself had been extravagantly spoiled and, despite Betty's curtailing, his default setting was to treat Rosa like the little princess heir to the Meade empire that she was. But, as Betty had wryly pointed out more than once, Daniel could buy Rosa her own tropical island (and had covertly tried to at one point) but their baby girl would find an empty cardboard box to be equally thrill-inducing.

Betty came up to rest against Daniel's chest with an elaborate thud and practically melted into his arms. God, he had been so strong, so incredibly strong today, and she...

Daniel sighed. "Okay, this is the part where you tell me exactly why you've looked like you've eaten some bad shrimp since we got home. You're still guilt-tripping, aren't you?" Betty closed her eyes tightly and looked away, and he ran his finger lightly over both closed, still-swollen eyelids. "Gotta tell you, Betty, that particular style of self-flagellation doesn't look good on you." Daniel tilted her face up to look him directly in those startling blue eyes.

Betty took a deep breath. Might as well set the record straight, here. Bad shrimp, her ass. "I was the one who screwed up, Daniel. I looked away and I can't do that, not when I'm a mom, and not…" Here Betty paused and her eyes filled with tears of happiness and worry. "Not when I'm about to be a mom again," she finished.

"Oh." Daniel stared at her. "Oh." He shifted his stance and looked down at the floor.

Betty's stomach gave a twist. Oh, my God, maybe he didn't want anymore kids after all, maybe he's mad at me and he'll blame me like Walter did the time he and I had that pregnancy scare in 2004, oh my God, oh my God…"

"OH MY GOD!" Daniel's whoop was one of unmistakable joy. Sometimes, Betty thought lovingly, it took her man a few moments to process the important bits.

His fingers lightly fluttered over her stomach. "How long have you…I mean…"

"A couple of weeks," Betty said, putting her hand over his. "I didn't know for certain but it's been all "hello, hormones," and then I peed on the stick…"

"Did you keep it?" Daniel looked as excited over a used pregnancy test as he looked when there was even the most remote possibility for sex.

"You are NOT having the damn thing bronzed," Betty said firmly, a little squicked at herself that she in fact had kept it—but she couldn't bring herself to throw it away, especially not after staring at its little pink plus sign in awe for what had felt like hours. Jeezy creezy, she'd bonded with a pregnancy test. Damn hormones.

"Okay, we'll argue later." He shrugged, seemingly nonchalant.

Betty huffed. "We'll argue later" was Meade-code for "We'll argue after I go behind your back and do it anyway."

"You are NOT going to mount a used pee-stick and hang it on the wall, do you hear…mmmf." Daniel's lips met hers and she felt herself being tipped over backwards; the world spun, yet she'd never felt more secure.

Coming up for air, Daniel righted her effortlessly and casually moved off to examine his hair in front of the mirror. He was going to play it like that, even though Betty could plainly see the moisture in his eyes before he'd swiftly moved away.

That, too, was classic Meade—forever emotionally retarded, the lot of them.

She moved behind him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing the white marble-smooth skin of his shoulder, and nuzzled that perfect jaw line. "And what was that Gone With the Wind, Rhett-n'-Scarlett-on-the-road to-Tarareenactment back there for, hmm?"

Daniel put on his brave face and managed a debonair grin. "I kissed it and made it better, Mommy Suarez-Meade. Rosa's orders."

Without warning, he dove for her, slung her over his shoulder and carried her into the bedroom, Betty's laughing threats of projectile barf blissfully and rightfully ignored.

Damn hormones.

Fluffy as a bag of cotton candy, right? Reviews are salivated over just as much :D