Benefits of Directness

Disclaimer: I do not own Dallas.

Elena Ramos was perfectly capable of reading and had been for the past twenty-ish years. She was capable of a hell of a lot more than that, too, but right not basic reading would have sufficed. Strangely, though, those strange symbols on the screen – supposedly an email in English – just refused to make sense to her. Undeterred, she continued to stare at the screen until, slowly, an understanding of the situation dawned on her.

The night before she was to be married to the only man she had ever loved and her first boyfriend (there had been others but somehow she had always found her way back to him), said fiancé had abruptly changed his mind. Apparently, she wasn't good enough for him. Oh, she had been good enough for him earlier that day and the day before and the day before that and pretty much every day since he had awkwardly asked her out when they were teenagers but now suddenly she wasn't.

The…'good' news, she supposed, was that since they were going to sneak off and elope (a family tradition, she was assured) there wouldn't be a wedding to officially call off. Being a bride left at the altar wouldn't literally mean standing up in front of all those people like a jilted groom would be but it would still be unbearable. No one would have to know how close they came to getting married or why they broke up.

No one…but her. And yes, she got the damn email but what kind of lowlife broke up with someone over an email anyway? Was he ashamed to say it to her face? Well, he should be.

Tears were prickling at her eyes but she had no time for that. She grabbed her phone and dialed the number she knew better than her own.

Christopher picked up on the first ring. "Hey, beautiful."

'Hey, beautiful'? Was that really how he was going to start this off after having suddenly decided that she wasn't good enough for him? Well screw him.

"Christopher," she said frostily.

"Is something wrong?" Christopher asked, sounding confused. Okay, he could not be this thick. As cordial as his 'you're not good enough for me, sorry, bye' email was and as much as it mentioned still wanting to have a – platonic – relationship with her, a few minutes after sending the email was the very definition of 'too soon.'

It was honestly the kind of thing that made her want to run off to Mexico. Which she very well might actually do, come to think of it, since the thought of being in the same country as Christopher Ewing was currently making her ill. But not yet. If he was going to do that to her then he could damn well do it to her face.

"You could say that, yes," Elena told him. "We need to talk. Now. In person."

"Wow, those are not a guy's favorite words," Christopher said, trying to lighten the mood.

Elena refused to let him. "Well too bad."

"I'll be right over," Christopher promised.

Elena considered that for a moment and then shook her head even though he couldn't see her. She didn't want to give up the ability to storm off dramatically if she needed to and she didn't want to let Christopher be the one to decide when they were done talking by having him leave early or refuse to go when she was done talking. "No, I'll be right over. Just be waiting for me."

"Always," Christopher promised and who said that kind of thing to the girl they just dumped anyway?

She hung up on him.

Elena peered through the window before she knocked, trying to get a hint of what she was going to be facing. None of this made any sense (or maybe it just made too much sense) and she wanted to be prepared.

Christopher wasn't exactly pacing but was sitting uncomfortably in a chair by the counter, staring at the door. His arms were folded and two of his fingers were tapping his other hand impatiently. Clearly he had just been expecting a clean break and then they would act as though none of this ever happened. Well, maybe tomorrow – in Mexico – she could give that to him but for now she was going to get some damn answers.

As she pressed the bell, it occurred to her that Bobby and Ann might be there as well and she certainly didn't want them to know what had happened. She was clearly the victim here but she didn't want their pity (or worse, their agreement with Christopher or at least their support of him). But if she knew Christopher half as well as she thought she had, something she was quickly beginning to doubt, then she knew that he wouldn't want his father to know how much he had led Elena on. She might not be good enough to marry but she deserved better than that.

Christopher jumped up and practically ran to the door.

He greeted her with a nervous smile. "Elena, hi. No second thoughts, I hope?"

Elena ignored that extremely inappropriate and uncharacteristic joke but her foot evidently had other ideas. Alien foot, perhaps? She brushed past him without a word and stalked over to the counter, taking her seat with as much dignity as she could.

Christopher limped after her. "What's going on, Elena?"

"I'm here for an explanation," she said simply.

"Yeah, that's great. I'd like one, too. Such as, say, why you just kicked me," Christopher said, a little irritated, as he took the seat opposite her.

Elena sighed tiredly. "Cut the crap, Christopher. I got your email."

Christopher frowned, confused or at least appearing to be. "Email? What email? I never sent you any email."

"Christopher," Elena said, feeling her own hackles rise. "I know that you want to sweep this all under the rug and I'm certainly not going to go around telling everybody about this but you can't just pretend not to know what I'm talking about right now. I won't let you."

"Well then maybe you should go ahead and tell me so that I can, in fact, know what you're talking about?" Christopher suggested.

Elena shook her head in disgust and closed her eyes. "How I could have ever considered marrying you-"

Her eyes flew open and strong hands grabbed her own.

"Considered marrying me?" Christopher repeated. He sounded upset. "Elena, this is serious. What's going on? And don't tell me that I should know or whatever, let's just assume that I don't and tell me."

She shouldn't have to but she didn't want to play his game and get the runaround. This way, he couldn't deny it.

"Fine," she said, curtly. She reached into her bag, pulled out the folded email she'd printed off just in case she'd needed to consult it, and threw it at him.

Christopher fumbled the catch but didn't seem to notice as he quickly opened the paper and started to read it.

" 'I will always love you but we are two different people from two different circumstances. I hope you understand,'" he read aloud, staring horrified at her. "Elena, what is this?"

"You should know better than me since you're the one who wrote it-" she started to say.

"I didn't write this!" Christopher cried out.

"But it sounds to me like you're breaking up with me because I'm not good enough." She was proud of how steady her voice sounded. Not quite perfectly steady but steadier than she had thought that she could manage when saying the words that had always haunted her, ever since she first realized that she might actually like Christopher.

Something fierce flashed in Christopher's eyes. "Don't say that! I don't want anybody to say that, not even you. Maybe especially you."

"Why not?" she asked hollowly. "You did. I mean, I'll admit that I've always wondered if the daughter of a cook who, despite all the success and education I may get, will always be the daughter of a cook could really fit in with the sons of the family she works for. The kind of people who can honestly consider themselves poor when they have a gigantic ranch and can take vacations and pay for schooling without having to wonder what sacrifices might be needed to pay for it just because they no longer have millions of dollars to throw around."

Christopher was staring at her, clearly at a loss for words.

"But Christopher…you managed to make me believe that I could, maybe. That our love was strong enough to overcome that and that all your family wanted was for you to be happy," Elena said, managing a shaky smile.

Christopher snapped into action and took her face in his face. "I meant every word of it!"

Elena stepped back and out of his grasp. "Maybe you did then but you've clearly come to your senses."

"As if breaking up with the most wonderful woman I've ever known could possibly be 'coming to my senses,'" Christopher scoffed. "Please, Elena, I love you!"

Elena nodded vaguely at the letter he'd tossed aside. "So I saw. We are two different people from two different-"

"Oh, don't start quoting that crap at me!" Christopher ordered.

Elena shrugged. "You wrote it. If you don't like how it turned out you have only yourself to blame. What I want to know is…why? You say it's not because of the reasons you gave and clearly you're lying, either now or in that email."

"I didn't send the damn email!" Christopher insisted. "Why do you keep saying that I did?"

"Well," Elena said slowly, "it was sent to my email address using your email account which is pretty damning. Then there's the fact that it mentioned our plans to be married tomorrow which we didn't actually tell anybody about. I just don't see who else could have done it or why they could have done it."

But Christopher had an idea and his face darkened, his hands clenching at his sides. "I do."

Elena tilted her head. "Do tell."

"My first suspect is John Ross," Christopher revealed.

Elena looked decidedly unimpressed.

"No, hear me out!" Christopher told her. "I don't know how anyone found out about the elopement but maybe he, I don't know, saw our tickets? Is having us followed? The how of it's not important right now and we can always ask him later. As to the why…well, you know he's always been crazy about you. It's one thing if you date me but we could always break up. Marriages are a bit more permanent, even in our family. And when those break up…Well, you might leave me and eventually end up with my cousin but could you ever divorce me and do that?"

"I…I don't know," Elena said, shaking her head in irritation. "All of this is speculative and you can't just blame John Ross because you don't want to admit that you sent that email and are hoping that I'll just 'refuse' to marry you while you can act the part of the heartbroken ex-fiancé."

"I will hire a private investigator to find out who sent that!" Christopher vowed. "I will call him tonight!"

A thought occurred to Elena. "Did you change your mind? Is that what all this is about? You really should have made sure that this was what you wanted before sending the email. I wouldn't have blamed you for having doubts."

"Of course I didn't have any doubts!" Christopher cried out. "Seeing as how I'm not the one who sent the email!"

Elena crossed her arms. "Why don't I believe you?"

Christopher's shoulders slumped and all at once the fight seemed to drain out of him. "I don't know, Elena. I really thought you would. I would have thought you'd know better than to think that I care about stupid things like where you came from."

"It's not stupid-" Elena began to protest, trying to hold onto her anger. She was the wronged party here!

"Elena, your mother's a cook, so what?" Christopher interrupted gently. "My mother ran out on me and my father because she couldn't bear anyone to see how badly burned she was. She abandoned us out of vanity. Or at least that's what her note said because we never had that conversation in person. And then there's my biological parents. We think my biological father was a drug dealer but for awhile people thought John Ross and I shared the same daddy. And my mother was a con artist herself who actually shot my uncle and helped get my aunt put in a sanatorium against her will. And you know that John Ross is always ragging me about not being a real Ewing. I'm the last person who would ever think that someone else isn't good enough because of things they can't help."

He had a point. Somehow, seeing him so happy with Bobby all these years and then quickly accepting Ann as his stepmother a few years back made it hard to remember just where he had come from.

"My biological parents…I never cared about them," Christopher continued, apparently taking her silence as a good thing. "They didn't want me and they didn't deserve me. My mother and father did. And then my mother left. She gave me a note because she couldn't bear to say goodbye in person. I've been there. You know that. Do you really think I'd do that to you?"

Tears again, this time more out of relief than anger or heartbreak.

He stood up, walked over to her. "Hey," he said gently, brushing her tears away gently. "Don't cry."

She kissed him, kissed him like she had never thought she'd get another chance to kiss him again and even now still wasn't sure that this wasn't all just one long dream she'd eventually wake up from.

"So," Christopher said when he'd pulled back, looking nervous again. "Is the wedding still on?"

"Yes," she said, so grateful she'd gone to confront him in person. Who knew where she'd be if she hadn't? Actually, she did know. She'd be alone and heartbroken in Mexico. "The wedding is still on."

"Do you need to go home and pack?" Christopher seemed reluctant to let her out of his sight and, all things considered, she didn't blame him. She was feeling like that, too. She never wanted to let him out of her sight again and certainly not before they both said 'I do.' Although maybe she could make a slight exception for however long it took them to change. " I could go with you."

Elena smiled and shook her head. "No, I packed yesterday and came straight here instead of taking the time to unpack so we've just got to pick up my stuff."

"Oh really?" Christopher looked amused. "Well, I packed last week."

And with that, he took her hand and they went off to go start the rest of their lives together.

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