Disclaimer: Alas, I don't own Ugly Betty or any of its characters.
Author's Note: This is my first facfic so be nice. Also, please let me know what you think. I'm trying to decide if I should write a sequel. Thanks!
Daniel Meade--full-time playboy, part-time editor-in-chief of Mode magazine--could not remember the last time he had gotten a good night's sleep and unfortunately it was not because he was too busy making love to Ms. Monday, Ms. Tuesday, or even Mrs. Wednesday. While he always went to bed with the intention of sleeping soundly through the night these plans had yet to come to fruition. Each night, exhausted from a hard day's "whatever," he would crawl under his thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets and hope to drift off into a much needed and sorely missed deep sleep. But, as soon as his eyes fluttered closed the dreams began. Daniel never had the same dream twice, but each dream seemed to be a variation of the same theme, his assistant, Betty Suarez.
Last night he had dreamt that he and Betty were celebrating their one-year anniversary; whether they were married or simply dating he was not sure. They sat together in the dim light of a nearly burnt-out candle staring deeply into each others eyes. As he looked into their depths he knew that the profound and honest love he saw in them was most assuredly reflected in his own. It had been beautiful in its simplicity.
On the previous night he had dreamt that they were painting a nursery for the child he and Betty were expecting together. He remembered his breath caught as he placed his hand against her swollen belly and felt the soft kicking of the baby from within. He also remembered that at this he had begun to cry.
But not all of Daniel's dreams had been so innocent in nature.
Some nights he dreamt what it would be like to make love to his assistant--sometimes he was gentle, slowing exploring every curve and crevice of her body like an archeologist examining a long-buried treasure. Other times he seemed almost primal; animalistic in his desire to meld his flesh to hers, if only for a brief period of time. These dreams too had been vivid in their own way; often he would wake up with her taste still lingering on his lips, her touch still burning his skin. It was these dreams that left him head to toe soaked in sweat; these dreams that, despite being an expert on all things amorous, left him with an erection he wasn't entirely sure what to do with.
For Daniel the past few weeks had been one long sleepless night--never able to settle back into his restless repose after one of these dreams occurred. Instead, he would find himself lying awake for hours watching a steady stream of images flash across his T.V. screen in high definition. It was only near dawn that he was usually able to drift back to sleep.
As the lost hours passed into lost days into lost weeks Daniel's life became a blur; his inability to sleep effecting his ability to work. But this was not what bothered him most. It wasn't even the dreams; he actually enjoyed them, looked forward to them even. It was the hollow feeling he had when he woke up that affected him most. These dreams afforded him a glace into what could be, but ultimately was not. He knew that he could be happy with Betty and that his dreams could become a reality, but he was afraid. Afraid of how she might react, afraid she might not return his affections, afraid of loosing the best friend he'd ever had. That was what scared him most, what stopped him from telling her how he felt; even if his dreams were a sure sign that that was what had to be done. If Daniel Meade ever wanted to sleep again he would have to tell Betty the truth. But then again he had lasted this long and besides, what were a few more sleepless nights?