A/N: Well, I guess the beginning of this story went over well! I can't really decide whether Daniel/Renee is kind of cute or is just squicky. Oh, well, this is a D/B fic anyway. I'm just trying to decide if/how much of a villain to make Renee. Thanks for the reviews/encouragement! Hope you like…

"My butt hurts." Betty shifted uncomfortably, awkwardly, on the hard, cold bench, which was secured to the wall by two ominous-looking chains.

"Well, aren't those the three magic words in here? Pipe down, dear." Claire Meade was, as usual, cool as a cucumber, as if she were presiding over socialites at a garden party instead of a bevy of Big Bertha-types in the NYPD Drunk Tank.

She was obviously still buzzed, although she possessed the characteristic the rest of the Meades did—she didn't become sloppy when drunk but acquired a rather calm, biting, calculating brand of insanity, as if nothing in the world had the ability to surprise her or any of them anymore.

Maybe it was true, Betty mused around her migraine. At any rate, it was keeping the other captives at bay, thus slimming the chances of either of them becoming a butt-monkey tonight.

"Daniel's going to murder us," Betty moaned. "I'm pretty sure he was getting lucky with…what's-her-name…Regina?...oh, who cares…when I called."

Claire gave a dismissive wave of her hand. "I think you're safe, at least. You can do no wrong in my son's eyes, you know that. You're quite the Goddess Divine in his life. Although, he might yell. He has become a yeller, I keep telling him…"

Claire suddenly eyed Betty with deceptively casual interest. "How do you find this new chippie of Daniel's? Is she worth learning her real name?"

Betty decided that it was Daniel who should probably break the news to his mother that he was boinking Wilhelmina's sister, although for all she knew, Claire might find it more amusing than anything.

"I only saw her from a distance," Betty could at least say truthfully, from where her head was cradled in her hands. "I've never really met her, but Daniel seems to be taken with her. More so than the women he usually…um…dates."

Claire's face was so kind, and Betty so confused, that she felt safe to open up, at least a little. Anything to help her work through, breathe through the queer ache in her chest, the odd flush that crept into her cheeks, whenever she allowed herself to think that Daniel might really be serious this time.

"It was kind of weird, actually," Betty continued. "He showed up at my house around midnight, spun about Renee and asking for my advice." Betty fervently hoped Claire would assume that Daniel was spun about his fear of commitment, and not be clued in to the real reason Daniel was so wary of entering into the relationship. "I told him to go for it if he really liked her. I mean, I didn't really know what to say. And then he gets the funniest look on his face, like he'd expected me to talk him out of it or something, almost like he wanted me to."

Gauging her reaction, Claire reflected. All in all, a typical Daniel maneuver. That sneaky boy of mine. He really has got it bad.

Both jumped at the reverberating slam of the cell door being thrown back, the obnoxious jangle of the officer's keys. And the deep, rumble-y, boy, Daniel-must-be-pissed voice emanating from the tall, gorgeous man with the spiky hair (tousled from bed instead of gel for once) and the stormy blue eyes.

"Alright, move your asses. Now." Daniel wasn't yelling, actually, which was a hell of a lot creepier than if he'd really unloaded on them both.

Smelling impending Daniel-judgment a few feet away, Betty was immediately defensive. "Well, it's about time you got here!" she hissed. "I was about to become someone's bitch!"

"Sweetheart, you were about to become my bitch," Claire hiccoughed mildly as she swept regally out of the cell.

"Oh, cram it, Mother. The town car's waiting outside." Daniel glowered after the Meade matriarch as she blew a kiss at the charmed guard on the way out, blonde hair disheveled.

Betty moved to exit the cell but found her way blocked by a beautiful muscular arm. She sighed. "Daniel, just take it out of my paycheck for the next five decades if you want to, but can you maybe wait till Monday morning to blast me? I'm tired and drunk and…sad."

To her immense surprise, after a beat in which she felt hotly scrutinized by cerulean blue perfection, she found herself being pulled into a tight embrace.

"Okay, first of all, yes, I'm pissed. Second of all, please, God, tell me you're alright. And third, tell me why you're sad, because I have a feeling that that's going to be a factor in why you landed in the pokey. Well, that and my mother."

He lifted her chin with a strong, firm forefinger and forced her damp, melting chocolate eyes to meet his own. At what he saw there, he wasn't even shocked to feel the beginnings on moisture in his own.

Betty tiredly counted off the points on her fingers. "I know you're pissed. I'm okay, relatively speaking. And I'm sad because…"

"Because…"

"Henry and Gio are back in the bar competing for girls' numbers. It's a long story. They don't even know I'm here. I don't want them to know. Henry…he didn't even notice when your mom and I left…" Betty could no longer meet Daniel's gaze. She hadn't lied. Henry's disregard of her feelings had hurt her. She prayed Daniel would notice her blush at what tidbit she was leaving out. Luckily, it was dim light.

Daniel was weighing the option of adding Gio and his mother to his hit list, right below Henry.

But first he needed details.

"We get my mother relatively non-toxic again, drop her off right in the middle of Alexis's Tranny's Anonymous meeting, and we'll go back to my apartment. And you will spill." Daniel gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head.

"What about Renee? I'm sorry, by the way, if you two were in the middle of a…thingie."

Daniel had forgotten about his latest playmate, truth be told, in the sheer adorableness of Betty not ever being able to say any word that remotely alluded to sex. "No, not really. All 'thingie' action had stopped for the evening. And she's a big girl. Not clingy, which is how I like 'em."

Betty cheekily replied, "I thought if they were alive and had the right number of boobs that that's how you like 'em. You've upped your standards, Daniel Meade."

Daniel smirked and rolled his eyes. He grabbed her hand. "Ready, Sundance?"

Betty grinned despite herself.

"Always, Butch."

Review, please:-D