Betty screamed loudly and tumbled off the bed, hitting the floor with a hard thump. Daniel immediately whipped the covers off his upper half and leaned over the length of the mattress to look down at her, ensuring she was all right. Betty lay crumpled like the clothes that were strewn about her, rubbing her aching head and breathing, panting almost, fast and furiously. All Daniel could do was smile, but it didn't last long.

"What? What?! Betty are you alright?" Ignacio Suarez, Betty's over-protective father shouted as he barged into the room, holding a rolling pin over his head. If he hadn't been so worried about his daughter he probably would have recognized the ridiculousness of the situation, a man clad in a pink apron, brandishing a wooden cooking utensil intent on warding off creep crawlers or bold burglars.

As Daniel looked over to Ignacio he wondered if he could take the old man, but once Ignacio took a swing at him, Daniel quickly thought otherwise.

Daniel rolled off the bed and landed on top of Betty, only complicating things more.

"Mr. Suarez, wait please!" Daniel cried from his position cowering in Betty's lap.

"What is going on?" Hilda barked, racing into the room, her hair in curlers and her fingernails obviously wet. Justin was close behind.

"It's me! It's Daniel!"

Ignacio, Hilda, and Justin all cried in disbelief, "Daniel?!"

"I'm okay Papi," Betty said from her place under Daniel's form, using her own body weight to push him aside and using his shoulder as leverage to help her stand.

"I don't understand," Ignacio let out as he lowered the rolling pin and took a quick visual scan of the room. "What is going on here?"

They all determined it probably wasn't what it looked like. It couldn't be, right? Not with Daniel and Betty. Plus, it was obvious Daniel was still wearing clothes, some clothes.

"Where are your pants?" Justin asked as he moved closer to the commotion.

"Yes, where are they?" Ignacio repeated, slowly raising his make-shift weapon.

"Whoa, whoa. Hold on," Daniel told him, hands raised to protect his face. "My pants are here, right here. I'm going to put them on, ok?"

"Yeah, I think we got that. What I'm sure they want to know is why aren't you wearing them in the first place?" Hilda interjected.

Daniel stood, fastening his pants back up and smoothing out his now completely wrinkled dress shirt. "It's more comfortable to sleep without pants."

The words had only just left his lips when Daniel realized it was a foolish thing to say. Suddenly, Ignacio was moving toward him. "You were sleeping with my daughter?!"

"No, Dad don't," Hilda cried, trying to hold him back with the help of Justin.

Betty could only stand motionless in the corner, unsure of what was happening, still unsure of all that had happened the night before. She looked down to survey her own state of dress. She was still clothed, only not in her brown and orange dress. Instead she was wearing an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Betty quickly, stealthily, pulled the collar of the shirt forward and looked down. Yes. She still had her bra on.

"Just sleeping, Mr. Suarez. We were just sleeping. Right Betty?" he asked, hoping Betty could help him out of such a terrible situation.

They all looked to Betty. "I don't remember. I was sort of drunk."

"Oh no. No. No. You did not get my baby sister drunk and take advantage," Hilda screamed as she brushed passed Ignacio and Justin to throttle Daniel. Thankfully she was held back.

"Ok, this seems out of hand here. I was just bringing Betty home. Yes, we were drinking. Yes, she was drunk. Yes, I was pantless, but nothing happened," Daniel said earnestly and honestly. "I swear. Just a boss putting his assistant to bed."

They all gave him a scornful look.

"I mean, placing her in bed. You know, covering her up and all. Not doing any touching of any sort."

They were still looking.

"Don't you have like a luxury loft in the city?" Justin asked. "Why stay in Queens with someone who snores when you could be there?"

Daniel chuckled. "I know right? It sounds like a Mack truck in here…" Daniel stopped as his eyes caught a glaring Betty, her arms folded over her chest, her mouth in a frown.

Daniel noticed she wasn't wearing her glasses. He had seen he without them before, but they were only brief glimpses. He had never really taken the time to look into her eyes without all the glass before them. He had to admit to himself, they were beautiful. Perhaps that was why he always melted during their talks, why he always bended to her will. It was the eyes. They opened for him. They never lied.

"I left my cell at the office. I couldn't call for another cab. It was late," Daniel began. "I mean, I've slept here before I guess I just thought it would be ok. I was drinking and I made a mistake. I'm sorry Mr. Suarez, Betty. I really am."

Ignacio sighed heavily and then smiled. "Ah Daniel. It's alright. You got my daughter home safe and sound. Now let's see about getting you kids breakfast."

Daniel let out a small squeak of relief. God, he loved that Betty's father was so understanding, so easy to give of his trust. Daniel enjoyed being trusted by him and the entire family. He enjoyed having a family, even if it wasn't his own.

"Come on, come on," Ignacio said, ushering Hilda and Justin out of the room.

"He knows we have a phone here, right? I mean there are telephones in Queens," Daniel could hear Justin say as they walked out of the room and down the stairs.

Betty still looked sad, confused.

"Are you ok? Hangover?" Daniel asked as he rummaged about the floor for his blazer and tie.

"Where's my dress?" Betty asked.

Daniel picked it up among the clothes and casually tossed it to her.

"Why aren't I wearing it?" Betty questioned, her tone quite accusatory.

Daniel stood to look at her in those open eyes and smiled. "You think I took it off you?"

"Well…."

"Well, you puked on it in the cab and by the time I got up here after you it was already on the floor."

Betty began unfolding the dress only to find a large, smelly stain on the fabric. "Ewwww!" she cried before tossing it back down.

"I would never take advantage of you Betty," Daniel told her. "I would never hurt you."

He gathered his things and began walking to her door.

He stopped. "At least, not on purpose."

Betty laughed as he left, feeling both relieved and nauseous. Drinking was never a good idea.

On Monday, back at her desk inside the Mode offices Betty found herself daydreaming about what the next issue was going to look like. Sure she had seen The Book, but it wasn't the same. The magazine itself was where the real prize lay. The gloss of the pages, the smell of the inserts, Betty wanted it all. She wanted to see her article in print.

Betty knew she shouldn't be so excited. It was only one article among a magazine full of articles and layouts and columns. She was only one person and it was only one achievement, but it was a big one.

"Daydreaming?" Daniel asked as he passed by her desk.

Betty quickly got out of her chair and followed him into his office. "No. I was thinking about … your afternoon meetings."

"Yeah, I believe that," Daniel responded, tossing his blazer over the back of his chair.

"Ok, I was thinking about my article. I just can't wait to see it in print," Betty gushed. "It almost makes me forget the sight of you in your tightie-whities."

"Hey! Boxer briefs, thank you very much," Daniel tried to correct.

"Keep telling yourself that," Betty joked.

"Listen, about the article," Daniel began. Betty instantly felt her heart sink. "We had to pull it."

She sighed heavily, sadly. "Oh. Ok. Yeah. Of course."

"It's not that it wasn't good, I mean it was great. It's just, another writer, a bigger name, stepped up with a piece we couldn't pass on and we needed the room."

"But you'll put mine in the next issue, right?" Betty asked.

Daniel averted looking into her eyes, now clad by glasses, but still expressing as much as they did days before in her bedroom. He just couldn't bear to lie to her face. "Yeah, we'll see."

"You're lying," Betty told him harshly, yet her voice was still flat, almost a whisper.

"What? No." Daniel tried to protest, but he secretly knew it was a losing battle.

"You always tilt your head to one side when you lie. You always look away."

Daniel sometimes hated that she knew him so well. She kept him too honest.

"Betty, it's just…"

"The hotel review, the Phil Roth piece, the request for more responsibility, real responsibility denied. I mean, I thought you said you would never hurt me on purpose."

"This is business Betty. Just business."

"You took me out for drinks. We celebrated."

"And we were right to do that. We were right to celebrate. You did good, great even. You are becoming a wonderful writer Betty and no one can tell you other wise. Banana daiquiris be damned!"

She couldn't help but give him a small smile in return for his efforts to make her feel better, but she couldn't, wouldn't, forget what had been done.

"No, Daniel. Being cute and sincere and all friend-like isn't going to change this. This hurts," Betty said, before walking sheepishly out of his office.

"Wait!" Daniel called after her, prompting Betty to stop at the door. "You think I'm cute?"

Betty made a growling noise and stormed off. Daniel knew he had said something wrong.

"I just don't understand why he doesn't get it," Betty moaned to Christina, sitting on one of the many plush couches in The Closet of the Mode offices. She was pulling at her own split ends and biting the skin off her bottom lip.

"Stop it already or you're gonna give yur self a bloody lip," Christina scolded her while she hemmed the bottom of yet another dress hanging precariously off one of the two dozen mannequins that littered the room. "You should know what Daniel is like. Yur smart, yur smarter than he gives you credit for."

"Well that's not true," Betty said, letting her hair fall. "He gives me credit."

"Then why hasn't he put your articles in Mode?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I feel as if I'm late; late for my career. Like it's out there and it's started without me. I really thought Daniel was going to help me get it."

"He's always leadin' you on Betty. And I don't think being led on is worth it if you ain't getting' any sex. Are you getting' any sex?"

"Christina!" Betty shouted scanning the room to make sure no one else was around. She would be mortified if the offices of Mode were flush with rumors of her and Daniel together.

"What?! I'm just pointin' it out," Christina said.

"You know, ever since you had the baby you seem to think about sex a lot more," Betty noted.

"Well you try carryin' a child for nine months and see how much action you get. Men don't usually go for the bloated, hormonal type," Christina whined honestly.

"Well ever since Henry I haven't been getting any either," Betty told her.

"What about Matt?" Christina asked. "I thought you two were, ya know?" She then made a crude hand gesture Betty couldn't help but turn away from.

"No. No, we were going to, but I think it's too soon. I think we should wait."

"You have more resolve than me. I slept with Stuart for Christ's sake. That lyin', cheatin', no good son of a…"

"I get it Christina," Betty told her. "I get it."

"I'm just sayin' when a man disappoints you as many times as he disappointed me; when a man lies and carries on and is eager to take off his pants, but won't share his heart then somethin' is up. Well, two somethings are up."

"Ew."

"Just be careful is all I'm sayin'. Stuart was my husband and he cheated me. Daniel's just you're boss. He's let you down before Betty. You shouldn't be surprised."

"How did you know about him taking off his pants?" Betty asked, almost half jokingly, and completely under her breath. Yet in the silence of The Closet Christina heard her loud and clear and in an instant was at her side.

"Daniel took of his pants!" she shouted.

"Shhhhhh," Betty prompted, putting her hand up to Christina's mouth.

"Oh come on Betty, I need to hear all the dirt."

After spending her entire lunch break explaining her Saturday morning antics with Daniel and her family to Christina, Betty reluctantly returned to her desk. She wasn't sure she wanted to sit there and stare through the glass partition at Daniel. But she had no choice. He was there in front of her, always ahead, with her always having nowhere to go.

Just as Betty began to feel sorry for herself again, something she had promised herself not to do, the phone on her desk rang. It startled her, but somehow the jolt was needed.

"Daniel Meade's office," she said calmly, cheerfully, into the phone.

"Is this Betty Suarez?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Yes it is," Betty responded and then listened to what the stranger had to say.

From inside his office Daniel could see the look on Betty's face change from one of confusion to one of joy. She was smiling, laughing almost. She was happy. Daniel wondered who was on the other line. Could it be that new guy she was dating? Daniel wasn't sure he liked the thought of Betty going out with a white collar, blue-blood. He wasn't sure he liked the thought of Betty dating anyone remotely like himself. He knew all too well what guys like him did to girls like Betty.

Betty set the phone down and bounded for Daniel's office. He quickly tried to look busy, tried not appear like he was spying. As if Betty didn't already know.

"Daniel," she said launching right in without greeting him first. Perhaps she had forgotten about their little talk. Perhaps she had forgotten about the article. "Are you going to publish my article?"

Maybe not.

"Betty I told you that I wasn't sure what we were going to do. I mean…"

"It's just that, if you're not going to use it, I'd like it back."

"Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Matt's going to get it published for me," Betty told him. Daniel could almost hear a hint of smugness in her voice, something that was unlike her, but certainly warranted in such a situation.

"Doesn't he write for a sports magazine? I doubt nacho-eating, fantasy football loving, forty year olds who live in their mom's basements want to know where the hot new vintage store is."

"It's not for his magazine. A friend of his is looking for something new and he told him about me. He sent him my rough and the guy said if the real thing is as good he'll print it."

"Well, Betty, people say lots of things when they're trying to get into your pan…." Daniel stopped himself when he saw the look on her face. "How can you trust Matt?"

"I just spoke to the editor of the magazine. He needs to know that you're not going to use the piece. So I wanted to make sure before I submit to him."

Daniel was unsure of what to do. Should he give the article back and risk hurting Betty by letting her know he probably was not going to fight for its placement in Mode? Or should he hold on to it to show her he had faith in her, but then jeopardize her chances with another magazine? And should Betty really be writing for another magazine anyway?

"What magazine is it?" he asked.

"Vogue."

There was a silence in the room, a thick, awkward heavy silence that hung around them, nearly suffocating all thought. Vogue, Daniel thought, was out of the question. Betty just couldn't write for the competition. She couldn't give her talent away.

"I'm sorry Betty, but you wrote the article for Mode so it stays at Mode until we decide to run it."

"But…"

"That's the end of it," he told her.

Betty was speechless. She hadn't thought he would really say "no". Was he jealous? Could it be that Daniel Meade was jealous of his own assistant?

Betty scoffed and walked back to her office. She placed her head in her hands and tried to rub away all the tension and frustration. What was Daniel thinking, she wondered. What was he doing to her? And why was he doing it?

Suddenly, Daniel watched her head shoot up, as if she had had an epiphany of some kind. Without a word, without permission, Betty grabbed her bag and her coat and left her desk headed for the elevators. Daniel stood up in shock and watched her go.

"Oh no," he said aloud to himself. "Did she just quit?"