Chapter 3. Blame it on the Rain

AN: I'm back! After a year and some change, my muses for this fic have finally deigned to once again honor me with their presence. I know that it's been a very long wait and I can only hope there's still some interest in seeing this story come to its conclusion (aside from those who've actually put this on their alerts). Anyway, here's hoping that the next update won't take as long =) Unbeta'ed so all mistakes are mine.

AN2: Ugly Betty and its characters are owned by ABC – just taking them out for a spin.


Daniel stared morosely at the trail of melted wax making its way down the candleholder on the table. He had such high hopes for the night but it seemed all of naught. Betty was beyond late and he finally acknowledged that she wasn't going to show up anymore. Sighing heavily, he slowly started clearing up the table but then changed his mind. He was feeling too depressed to want to add clean up duty onto his plate at the moment so he just turned towards the bedroom instead.


Betty was alternately cursing the tube for breaking down, her cellphone for dying on her in the middle of dialing Daniel's number to tell him about her running late, and the horrible London weather for the sudden downpour just as she finally made it out of the station, which of course made getting a taxi an impossibility and in turn led to her current predicament of having to walk the eleven blocks it took to reach Daniel's flat soaking wet because as her run of bad luck that day seemed intent on never ending, she had forgotten to bring an umbrella and she was wearing her highest pair of heels and sheerest of dresses. Whatever made her decide to wear what she was wearing she didn't know. It wasn't as though she and Daniel had any special plans for the night. Her one silver lining was that she was wearing her good coat and so wasn't giving fellow commuters like her an eyeful of unders, which she was positive would be on show as she felt her clothes sticking wetly to her body. She almost changed her mind and headed for her home but her flat was even further away than Daniel's so really she had no choice, did she?


Daniel had just emerged from his bathroom after a long, hot shower when the doorbell rang. He froze in the process of pulling out a pair of pajamas from the drawer and looked at the digital readout of the alarm clock by the bedside table. It was a little over 10 and he frowned in confusion as he tried to figure who was ringing up his flat, knowing it couldn't be Betty. She was such a stickler for punctuality and she would have called or sent a text if she would be late. But then again, she would have called or sent a message if she couldn't make it. She hadn't done either so he figured she probably had a meeting she couldn't get out of. Besides, she had a spare key so she wouldn't even need to buzz at all if it was her. Maybe it was the crazy model downstairs asking to use his phone again – she did have a habit of getting locked out of her apartment at odd hours of the night in her nighties. He shook his head at how much he'd really changed as he realized he'd never, even once, been tempted to hit on her, no matter how revealing her clothes were.

Maybe he should just ignore it?


Betty stood shivering outside Daniel's door as she rang the buzzer again. She had gotten lucky that a tenant downstairs had been buzzing a visitor in when she finally made it to the building and had saved her the trouble of having to do the waiting downstairs in the rain.

"What the heck was taking Daniel so long to answer the door?" she thought as she shivered again from the cold.

Of course she could have just used her spare key but she'd left it in her other purse. Her feet were killing her so put a hand flat on the door to balance herself as she bent down to take her heels off and promptly fell forward as said door finally opened.


"What the…" Daniel's voice trailed off as he found himself flat on his back with a wet and dripping form sprawled on top of him. Looking down at the dark mass of wet hair spread out on his chest, he struggled to get his hapless visitor off him when he realized who it was. "Betty?"


Blushing in mortification, Betty fought for composure as she found her face mashed up against Daniel's stomach, her chest right smack dab onto Daniel's nethers and the rest of her lying between his legs. And as if that wasn't bad enough, her mind registered that her former boss-turned-best-friend was in fact bare from the waist up and that his pajama was in danger of sliding far lower down on his hips than perhaps was decent. In her haste to get off him and her refusal to meet his eyes in sheer embarrassment, she failed to take note that she'd inadvertently given him quite a view when her movement left her coat open to reveal sheer silk clinging wetly onto her chest, revealing an outline of her lace bra. She quickly moved to sit up, grateful for the fact that Daniel lived by his lonesome on this floor and that their tumble had no witnesses.


Daniel could only stare at her dumbly, unable to move lest he reveal just how much that brief contact with her very wet form had started to affect him. He opened his mouth to try to say something but couldn't get a single word out as he struggled to take in the fact that the object of his lust and affection sat before him in all her wet and nearly naked (her dress was that sheer) glory. And before he could prevent it, his thoughts ventured onto territory he'd only ever visited in his dreams.

Betty…

against the wall.

Dress pooled at her feet…

He fought for composure as another image burned its way into his consciousness.

on her hands and knees

looking over her shoulder…

He nearly whimpered and closed his eyes as yet another image superimposed its way into the back of his eyelids.

Him.

Bent over her…

Hands on her hips...

Holding her in place…

as she moaned his name…

"Daniel!"

His brows furrowed in confusion at the tone of her voice.

That didn't quite sound like a moan…

"Daniel!"

His eyes snapped open as her voice finally broke through his fantasies. "Uhm…" he struggled to marshal his thoughts into coherency and said the first thing that came to mind.

"You're late."


Betty could only look at him in sheer astonishment. She was wet and cold and her feet hurt from walking in her stupid heels and embarrassed as all get and all he could remember to say was that she was late?

"You…" she fought for composure as she struggled to her feet, resisting the urge to brain him with one of her shoes, which she found she was still holding on to. She quickly moved to pick up her purse off the floor and hopped on one leg as she put on her other shoe, intent on going back out to go home to her own flat, rain be damned. She wrapped her coat more tightly against her as she walked towards the elevator.


As Daniel realized how utterly stupid his utterance was, he quickly got to his feet and tried to reach for her.

"Betty…" He winced as his arousal made walking, much less running after her, quite painful to say the least. "Hold on…don't go…" he shouted after her as he cursed his lack of footwear. "I'm sorry…" he tried again and held onto her arm as she waited for the elevator to open, not saying a word. "Look, you're wet and obviously cold, just come in and at least change into something dry. You could get sick if you went back out there again."

Sighing heavily, she realized how irrational she was acting. Did she really want to go back out there? And why was she so mad anyway? He was right after all. She was late.

Sensing her hesitation, Daniel stepped in between her and the elevator and gave her one of his patented puppy dog looks. "Please?"

Finally giving in, she mumbled, "I'm sorry too…" At his questioning look, she continued, "…for being late."

He smiled at his victory. "What happened?" he asked, but then realized the absurdity of his question as he took in her wet and bedraggled appearance once again.

"Tube broke down, cell phone died, couldn't get a cab and forgot my umbrella." She explained as she walked back into the apartment, with him trailing after her.

"I'm sorry…" he offered behind his shoulders as he locked the door after them. "Let me take your coat…" he started to say as he turned towards her and for the second time that night, the words died in his throat at the sight of her stepping out of her heels and taking off her heavy coat.

"Thanks." She said in relief at shedding the heavily sodden coat and killer heels.

He made his feet move towards her, hoping he doesn't stumble, knowing she was most likely unaware that the sheerness of her dress left very, very, little to the imagination. Not that his imagination hadn't already been working overtime picturing her body underneath.

"Can I use your shower?" she asked quickly, hoping to cover her agitation at being the object of his intent stare. She knew how revealing her dress was as it clung to her wetly so she fought the urge to haunch her shoulders in self-consciousness. After all, it wasn't like Daniel would notice given that she had that far too generous curves of a true Latina and it was common knowledge that Daniel's type tended towards tall, model-thin and blonde.

Except for Sofia Reyes…

who was curvy...

(like her)

and smart..

(like her)

and Latina..

(duh!)

and whom he nearly married...

She berated herself for that wayward thought. She had no business comparing herself to Daniel's ex. After all, they were just friends, weren't they?

And just like that Mrs. Meade's pesky voice was back, "I have a theory…"