A/N: To my reviewers—you know you guys are the coolest xD

Ch. 2: Sight

You see me, I.C.U.

Bevin's POV

Bevin, Daniel's latest potential conquest, took issue with the fact that he had essentially been staring at his assistant nonstop all evening.

Bevin hadn't come to the conclusion that her date had a mondo-boner for his best friend on her own, of course. The two brain cells she had refused to collide to form that original thought all by herself. But all that changed when Amanda slinked up behind her at the benefit dinner.

Daniel, up until that point, had been sweating profusely. Bevin had chalked it up to her own hotness, not even bothering to notice through the haze of her vanity that Daniel's sweating had increased tenfold as soon as he saw Betty glide down her front porch steps. He had also promptly swallowed some of those Altoids he seemed so attached to, although she didn't think much of that. A man that achingly gorgeous was allowed a few…eccentricities.

Anywho, she also didn't make much of the fact that Daniel had insisted that Betty ride with them to the dinner. He probably wanted her to shine his shoes or something. That's what assistants did, right?

The dance, though. The dance was the kicker. Daniel, who'd been smiling gently and indulgently as Betty charmed the hell out of six potential clients, stood and offered his hand, completely out of the blue. Betty, startled, took it, and allowed him to pull her onto the dance floor.

Bevin, stewing, was tempted to charge over and pull the two apart, but she'd been warned that if there was one thing Daniel Meade hated in a woman, it was clinginess. So she was left temporarily by herself, but not for long. Bevin caught a whiff of Ralph Lauren and turned to see a small, waifish, and beautiful blonde looking over her shoulder at the dancing couple. It was Amanda, Mode's head receptionist but one of many resident bitches. Bevin had disliked her instantly. She was about to dislike her even more.

Amanda glanced at Bevin casually out of the corner of her eye and, as if seeing something unworthy and vaguely laughable, quickly glanced away, a small smirk quirking the shiny pink lips.

"Bevin, is it?" she finally asked.

Bevin gave a curt, affirmative nod.

"Let me give you some advice, sweetie, vicious bitch to slightly less pretty vicious bitch," Amanda said conversationally, sweetly, in a way that immediately raised Bevin's hackles. "See those two over there?" She inclined her head towards Daniel and Betty. Daniel was blowing raspberries on Betty's neck and Betty was playfully slapping him away. Daniel, however, refused to allow much daylight in between them.

Amanda continued. "Let's say it was a cold day in hell and you and Daniel got really serious. You travel halfway across the world to a remote, exotic, romantic locale, and you think you've won because you've managed to get him that far away from Betty Suarez. You'll get a really, really good lay out of it, too, because if there's one thing Daniel Meade excels at, it's making a girl see stars. But, oh, wait…who's he calling on his cell approximately five minutes after he's done boinking you? Why, it's Betty! And you'd better get used to the idea. Because your opinion, your looks, and your feelings will all mean jack-shit beside that girl."

Amanda put a hand on Bevin's shoulder. "Cut your losses," she said, not unkindly. Then she was gone.

Bevin turned around just in time to see Daniel collapse.

Betty's POV

The song was "You Don't Know Me" by Ray Charles.

"You know, I'm just a friend. That's all I've ever been…but you don't know me…"

Betty had never felt such a myriad of emotions before. She felt sorry for Bevin. Sure, the girl had been catty to her all evening, but she had her reasons, namely Daniel's borderline obsessive attentiveness to herself.

This led to Betty's next emotion: confusion. Sweet, sweaty-palmed, chills up the spine confusion but confusion nonetheless. She was used to Daniel being attentive to her at these functions. He hated them as much as she did unless he got to hand out massive checks (probably yet another penis metaphor) and they usually ended up slipping out and walking the gardens, if there were any, arm-in-arm, just the two of them. If they couldn't ditch his entourage so easily, he would normally just stick by her side, introduce her to various executives, and all-around "show her off," as Claire Meade had calmly observed once; Betty begged to differ, but Claire had still insisted that Daniel nearly burst with pride every time he looked in Betty's direction.

In any case, Daniel dancing in any capacity was strange, but when all but carried Betty out on the dance floor, she just thought he was a little buzzed on champagne. That had to be the reason for his fingers lightly tracing her spine, his mouthing of her jaw, his teasing yet erotic blowing of raspberries on her neck every chance he could, and those eyes—every time she'd dared to look up, she'd met them. Big and full of smoldering blue embers, a girl could get lost there. Betty had always had a theory that it wasn't his wealth or his name or his body (although it was damn fine) that got Daniel Meade more ass than a rental car: it was those orgasm-inducing blue eyes.

Betty saw fear in them tonight, fear and something else—but she refused to go there. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating profusely, and although she appreciated the salty Daniel-scent and the warmth, he had not exerted himself nearly so much to naturally earn such a sweat. When she'd twined her arms around his neck (more of a maternal instinct than anything, she kept telling herself), she could feel his heart beating insanely, haphazardly within his chest.

Betty, startled, put a hand over his heart and he immediately moved once more to his shoulder. Betty sighed. She spoke into his shoulder, his cheek resting on the top of her head, "What's wrong?"

When Daniel finally said something, he sounded like a lost little boy. He gently captured her earlobe between his teeth, causing them both to go still. "I'm scared." He kissed her temple.

Betty drew back and looked him full in the eye. "We need to talk, about the smelling, the staring, and the-- holy crap, stop that!—groping, but you should sit somewhere first. You're heart's going crazy in there."

Daniel kissed her full on the mouth. "Tell me about it," he said.

"You'll never, never know the one who loves you so…but you don't know me…"

Betty couldn't stifle her scream as he sank to the floor, unconscious.

Well, that's it for "sight". Hope you enjoyed. If so or if not, please tell me! Next sense is hearing…