I hope this new chapter helps to ease some boredom caused by the quarantine. Stay safe and keep healthy. As a mom to a toddler with a chronic lung condition and immuno-compromised, covid-19 ain't nothing to fiddle with. Wash them hands my dear friends!

XXXXXX

Daphne sat in a lounge chair, the hotel room still dim, but slowly growing brighter with the rising sun. Her legs were curled up underneath her nightgown, chin resting on her open palm, and her cellphone sat precariously on her lap.

She could hear Fred's slow pattern of breathing, indicating his deep REM sleep, and suddenly had the urge to join him under the covers. Even though sex was usually the ultimate goal, she still wanted to feel those strong arms hold her close, the soothing touch of skin to skin contact, with his head lying against hers.

And this is exactly why something had to be done. Sooner, rather than later..

It was now crystal clear to her, as she assumed it was to Fred, that remaining friends was no longer an option; not while they still worked together, saw each other on a daily basis, and shared living quarters.

And don't forget being physically intimate...

Perhaps with some time apart, their feelings would change, go back to being more platonic, more innocent. Hopefully, it could be similar to their mystery solving teenage years, an underlying, yet unacknowledged attraction. It would be hard to completely forget how good Fred made her feel, not only by making her body thrum with pleasure, but by warming her heart, with just his presence alone.

She observed Fred slowly starting to wake, beginning to toss and turn in his sheets. A knot formed deep in her chest as time moved closer and closer to giving him the dreaded news. He was going to be so angry…so hurt.

XXXXXX

Fred awoke to the feel of soft lips on his, and a gentle voice purring his name. He blinked his tired eyes, trying to focus, as Daphne's sweet face came into view.

She was reclined on his pillows, his sheets covering most of her body, her mouth curved into a sad smile. He wondered briefly if she had slept beside him the whole night. Reaching out, she cupped his cheek with the palm of her hand, her thumb running along his bottom lip. "We need to talk."

He kissed her thumb tenderly, before glancing at the alarm clock. "It's half past six, Daph. It couldn't wait until seven?"

"No. It really can't."

He sat himself up into a sitting position, pulling the blankets with him to cover his nude lower half. When he did so, Daphne's sheets slipped down, revealing herself dressed again in her silk nightgown.

Of course she had redressed. To remain naked after sex would indicate something other in their relationship. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

While Fred waited for her to find the words that were supposedly so important, he noticed a small bruise on her neck. Thinking back to the previous night, he considered maybe he had been a bit too rough.

The silk of her gown was very fine, almost transparent, like tissue paper. Her breasts were visable, but only just. She still hadn't spoken yet, so to encourage her Fred leaned forward, bravely sucking a nipple into his mouth through the fabric.

Daphne gasped, raking her fingers through his hair. Initially to pull him closer, deciding instead to push him away.

"No. Not right now. We don't have much time."

Fred chuckled while he moved to take her other breast, "We don't have to be at our next interview until noon. We've got all the time in the world…"

His sentence trailed off, his tongue teasing her other nipple through the silk. He really did regret being so harsh the last time and planned to be much gentler today, if she would allow it.

Daphne exhaled deeply, "A valet will be here in about an hour. You need to pack."

Fred paused his ministrations and looked to her face, quirking a blonde eyebrow, "Where are we going? We still have a few more days of filming left here."

She looked away, avoiding his gaze, "I'm not going anywhere. But you're going back home."

"What?! You're firing me?" He demanded, his heart dropping to his knees.

"Of course not. Early this morning I requested a transfer from Joran. You'll be reassigned to Cosimo Bianchi. I traded him to you in exchange for his producer."

"On what grounds?" Fred growled.

"I told Joran it was because of artistic differances. Being halfway through the season he wasn't going to grant the request…so I had to appeal to his dramatic side."

Daphne licked her lips nervously, as if afraid of his response. Despite this awful betrayal, he still wanted to kiss those same lips; to kiss them and push her back against those pillows and make love to her until she changed her mind.

He crossed his arms, "You're a cruel woman, Daphne Blake."

"I don't mean to be," she said, her voice quaking. "I'll let you get ready and pack in peace."

She quietly shuffled off the bed, going to the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. As if to cement the divide she had imposed between them, he heard the snick of the lock clicking into place.

He came to the door, laying his forehead against the cool wood. "You were right, you know," Fred sighed, "About all of this being a giant mistake."

On the door's other side, Daphne's eyes swelled with unshed tears. It tore her heart to hear the confirmation in his voice. She wanted to say something, refute Fred's statement; but how can she argue back when he was just repeating her own words?

Why was it so damn hard for her to say, "I love you"?

Why was it so dangerous? Why did it have to hurt so badly?

Fred's voice dropped to a whisper, "Before all of this happened, I was naive about how I felt. I could have chalked it all up to being childhood friends, or just working side-by-side with a beautiful woman every day. I wasn't really aware of how much I…needed you."

Daphne gnawed at her bottom lip, remaining silent.

Fred pressed his palm to the door, hoping she'd open it. "Daph, just...tell me that I'm not the only one that feels this way. Tell me you feel it too."

When she finally spoke, her voice cracked, "Of course I do, Freddie. It will be better for us this way, you'll see."

He swallowed his hurt before answering, "Better for who, exactly? 'Cause it's definitely not better for me."

XXXXXX

Fred watched through the airplane window, eyeing the rest of the boarding passengers, still holding out hope to see a redhaired woman wave to him from the terminal. He guessed it would play out like an 80's romance film, with Daphne throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him in front of everyone. A public declaration of their relationship, of what they really were behind closed doors. People on the sidelines would clap and cheer. He imagined her cheeks wet with tears as she pleaded with him to stay, would beg him to forgive her for being so dense. She'd ask him to love her always…and he would. If only she'd give him that chance.

But Daphne didn't appear.

All he saw was the baggage handlers walking cautiously around the tarmac, prepping the plane for take off.

He stared outside idly, looking without really seeing, until finally he sighed in defeat, sliding the plastic window cover down.