DISCLAIMER: None of 'em are mine. Alas.

Chapter #4

Dream a Little Dream of Me

It was nearly 3:00 a.m. and she couldn't sleep. She'd spent hours tossing and turning in a fruitless attempt to find a comfortable position, but no matter how she situated herself it just didn't feel right. And it was too cold in her room. She'd never had any problems with the temperature before, but tonight it was like an igloo.

She flopped over onto her other side for what had to be the five-billionth time and grabbed one of her extra pillows. She clutched it against her chest like a teddy bear, resting her cheek against it and closing her eyes.

The lumpy pillow solidified in her arms and suddenly she was no longer cold. A hand tenderly smoothed her hair, and when she tilted her head back a pair of beautiful blue eyes gazed adoringly down at her.

Her eyes popped open.

With a frustrated moan she hurled the pillow from her like it was a snake that had found its way into her bed. The entire night had been like this. Every time she finally started to drift off, he was there waiting for her. And no matter how hard she tried to think of other things she couldn't seem to shake him off. Even the loss of Henry, so keen the previous night, had been virtually forgotten.

Betty rubbed her tired eyes and stared at the ceiling. What was going on, anyway? She didn't even like Daniel like that. What she had told Hilda was the absolute truth; she had never even considered the idea of her and Daniel romantically, not once. It just didn't make sense. Why did her brain insist on thinking things she knew she wasn't feeling? Things she couldn't be feeling?

Her bedroom drifted in and out of focus as her eyes tried desperately to close. At first she fought it, certain that more ridiculous dreams awaited, but she was so exhausted and overwhelmed that she couldn't fend it off forever.

The room around her slowly faded away and she found herself sitting in a different bedroom altogether…

The bedroom, with its modern furniture and half-naked wall mural, was familiar and yet strange to her at the same time. It wasn't as though she had never been here before; on the contrary, she'd grown quite accustomed to it over the past year and a half of working with its inhabitant. But usually she was there to help pour over the latest layouts or to coax Daniel back into civilization after callous bitches broke his heart on national television. Never before had she sat in this room cursing the world and desperately fighting back tears.

Half-eaten boxes of Chinese takeout sat, discarded, on the floor nearby with cheap wooden chopsticks balanced on the rims. An empty pint of Ben & Jerry's lay on its side beside them. Her mouth still tasted of Chunky Monkey as she stared forlornly at the floor.

"I thought he might stay," she murmured, unable even to look at the man sitting on the bed beside her. "Wow, that sounds really stupid, doesn't it? And, I mean, I knew he was leaving. It's not like I didn't know. But I just… I hoped…"

"I know," Daniel said, gently. She still couldn't look at him. Her throat was painfully tight. She swallowed hard when her eyes began to ache, struggling valiantly to keep the inevitable at bay.

"But then… when he got into the cab with his suitcases and things…" she stammered. "I just thought, oh my God. He's really going. He's gone." Her stomach twisted. She didn't know whether she felt like crying, breaking things, or some combination of the two. Despite her best efforts to hold them back, tears began to blur across her eyes. And all she could think was, 'Damn it.'

She took in a shuddering breath. Before the first sob even reached her lips Daniel gathered her into his arms. With her face buried in his chest, she finally gave in to all the horrible feelings she'd been holding at bay since Henry had left that afternoon. That she'd held at bay ever since they had first started their doomed romance against the advice of almost everyone she loved. All that was keeping her from shattering into a thousand pieces was Daniel's embrace. She clung to him more tightly than she had ever clung to anyone in her life.

A hand gently rubbed her back while she wept, and his lips pressed comfortingly against the top of her head.

"Shh…" he murmured against her hair.

God, what she must look like to him! She didn't need her boss, of all people, to see her behaving like an infant over a breakup that she'd always known was going to happen. Never mind that he was her best friend. He was still her boss, and she was beginning to suspect that they had crossed the employer-employee threshold of propriety a long time ago.

She struggled to stave off her tears, but managed only to make a few peculiar hiccupping sounds. After a moment, she pulled back from Daniel to wipe at her eyes and nose.

There was mascara on his Armani shirt. She wiped at it ineffectually with her fingertips. Daniel looked down at her.

"Want me to break his knees?" he asked.

Betty burst out into a half-laugh, half-sob.

"No," she said, "He didn't do anything wrong, it's my own fault. I'm the stupid one. You said so yourself."

His face fell.

"I didn't mean that," he said.

"But you were right," she whimpered. "Just look at me!" She barely finished the sentence before she was in hysterics all over again.

"Betty…" Daniel murmured, drawing her in against him again and rocking soothingly back and forth. "You are not stupid. Henry's the stupid one for messing things up with you. He lost someone really, really remarkable. Because that's what you are, you know that?"

There were a lot of things she wanted to say. She wanted to say that Henry had no choice. That he had to go back to Tucson with Charlie and the baby. That she wasn't the sort of girl anyone really regretted losing in the end. But the sobs were coming so heavily that no words could make it out. So, instead, she held onto Daniel with all her strength, afraid that if she let go of him she would lose her already faltering grip on sanity. And maybe it was her imagination, but she thought that he clung to her just as tightly.

When she'd finally managed to calm her tears down to the occasional sniffle, Daniel cleared his throat uncertainly. He loosened his hold on her and pulled back to look into her red, swollen eyes.

"Do you want some water?" he asked. Betty sniffed loudly, and he grinned. "And a Kleenex?" Wiping at her eyes, Betty nodded. Daniel slid out of her arms and headed for the kitchen. Without him, the room suddenly felt cold. She began to shiver.

He took a long time. Much longer than a simple glass of water warranted. Still shivering, Betty scooted over and pulled his bedspread up over her. When he still hadn't returned after another couple of minutes, she sank into the bed until her head finally came to rest on his pillow. It would only be for a minute, she told herself wearily, just until Daniel came back with her water. And then she would wash her face and call a taxi…

She was half asleep when Daniel finally returned with her drink and a box of Kleenex. His hair was damp, as though he'd been splashing his face with cold water while he was out of the room, but she only noticed through a vague and dreamy haze. He froze when he saw her in his bed.

After a moment he set the glass down on the bed stand and gently touched her shoulder.

"Betty?"

She peered up at him with half-closed eyes.

"Can you call me a cab…?" she mumbled. He smiled down at her, and she felt the warmth of his hand against her cheek.

"It's after 3:00," he said, quietly. "Want to just stay?"

She nodded vaguely, her eyes drifting closed again. His warm fingers brushed the sides of her face as he gently removed her glasses and set them on the bedside table. Then he went away. Betty felt suddenly alone.

Henry was gone. There would be no unexpected return trip to New York this time. Charlie was due in two weeks, and he had new obligations now. Obligations that had nothing whatsoever to do with Betty. She hadn't gone with him to the airport; she wasn't strong enough. Instead, they'd said their last goodbyes on a city sidewalk while the cab driver impatiently honked his horn and muttered things unfit for civilized ears. Henry had been pale-faced and somber but he hadn't cried. Neither had Betty, until now.

The bed shifted behind her and Daniel's arms slid around her from behind, his body spooning against hers. Gently, he smoothed her unruly black hair back from her face. It was a moment before she realized that she'd started crying again.

"Shh…" His breath was warm against her neck and, without considering the implications, she snuggled back against him. She was tired and emotionally drained, and his arms around her felt unbelievably good and, somehow, right. Nothing could hurt her while he held her. Daniel would keep her safe.

"…thank you, Daniel," she murmured.

"You're welcome," he whispered.

And then her phone started to ring.

Betty jerked awake. On the table beside the bed, her cell phone gaily sang "La Cucaracha" with no consideration whatsoever for the earliness of the hour. She glanced at the clock while reaching for the phone. Who on earth would call her at 4:00 a.m.?

Daniel's face stared back at her from the phone's screen, and her heart promptly leapt into her throat. Uncertainly, she hit the talk button.

"…Daniel?" she whispered, terrified that someone in her family might hear her. There was a long pause. So long that she thought perhaps he'd hung up on her.

"Were you asleep?" he finally asked.

"Daniel, it's 4:00 a.m.!" she exclaimed in a hushed voice. "Is something wrong?"

"No, I…" he floundered. "I couldn't sleep."

Betty's mouth dropped open in disbelief. Had the man been standing in front of her, she would have been sorely tempted to give him a good, solid shaking.

"Me neither," was what she said instead.

"Really?" he said quickly.

The eagerness in his voice unnerved her. Silence enveloped them.

"Would it be unrealistic to ask you to come over?" he said, finally.

"What?!"

"I've been thinking a lot," he said, all in a rush. "About last night."

"Daniel, it's late. Go to sleep," she said, but her head was spinning. Shocking as his statement had been, even more shocking was the realization that--if she hadn't needed to get up for work in three hours--she would have been more than a little tempted to take him up on his offer. Hilda's words from earlier that evening rushed back to her.

"I liked it, Betty," he barreled on before she could hang up on him. "And you did, too. I know you did."

He was right, of course. She had liked it. More than she wanted to admit, even. But that didn't mean that it was right, or that they ought to let it happen again. She was only upset that Henry was gone and there was no point getting ideas that it was anything more than that. Because it wasn't. Right? No. The absolute last thing she wanted to do was screw up the best friendship she had. But there was that nagging doubt. That little part of her that wanted to climb out of bed and figure out a way to get to Daniel's apartment at this hour.

"…Betty? You still there?"

Well, no matter what, half-asleep at 4:00 a.m. was definitely not the best state of mind in which to make such a decision.

"Daniel… I'm tired," she said. "I'll talk to you in the morning."

And she hung up.

.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.b.

COMING SOON: Chapter #5, "So Close and Still So Far."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: All right, I promised you more Detty and hopefully this fit the bill. This fic is pretty much Dettylicious from here on out. Thank you so, so much for all the amazing reviews. You get me blushing and grinning stupidly every time. I love you all; what awesome readers you've been so far. It's amazing to realize just how many Detty fans are out there! Huzzah!