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"What's wrong?" Daniel asked.

"You've been eating the risotto at Lettuce, haven't you?" she assumed.

"What?! No! How did you even get that?" Daniel answered, surprised.

"Because you taste like parmesan and garlic with a little bit of wine, and your six-pack is more like a one-pack," she teased, gently poking his ab.

"You know I hate how you know me – even with amnesia," he sighed. "Eduardo heard about everything and has been sending some over every week. Am I that fat?"

"Relax, Daniel. I don't think that anyone can tell unless you lift up your shirt," she told him as she proceeded to do so. "And even if they can, you have a valid excuse. No one should fault you for it. Besides, I feel like I'm snuggling with a really cute teddy bear."

Horrified, Daniel immediately pulled his shirt down and started to get up.

"Oh, shit! Betty, where's my phone? I've gotta go to the gym. I'll be back in a couple hours -" he panicked.

"Get back here, Teddy Risottobutt!" she flirted, pulling him back down with her.

"Jesus! It's gone to my ass, too?!" he whined.

"No! Daniel, get a grip. Your ass is fine," Betty reassured him, rolling her eyes. He was so needy sometimes.

"Really?" he questioned with a confident, sexy stare.

"Daniel . . . you know I didn't mean it that way," she sighed.

"You know it's okay if you did – more than okay, actually," he assured her with his irresistible smile as he ran a finger along her arm.

She caught his hand and interlaced their fingers, absently weaving them in and out.

"I know . . . but . . ." she had trouble explaining. She was opening her mind to new feelings about Daniel, to thinking of him as more than just a friend. He was insanely attractive, and charming . . . even sexy. And there was no doubt that he loved her with all of his heart – which made it easy to fall for him. But she couldn't bring herself to completely wipe out what she had known him as for four years. He was still her friend. How could she think these things about him without feeling a little weird?

"You're right, whatever makes you comfortable. Just keep in mind that I'd take you right here if you were ready," he flirted.

"Flattering as it might be that you want to have sex with me in a place that reeks of antiseptics, saline, and bleach and where any random stranger could walk in on us, medically I can't participate in intercourse for another six weeks anyway," Betty rolled her eyes.

"Too Old Daniel?" he cringed.

"A little, but good try," she patted his cheek.

"Sorry, I get like this when I'm horny and stressed," he excused.

"I know. It was usually when I'd have to find you some random model to take your mind off your problems, and more recently when I'd have to distract you myself with a game or a movie. I can't fix the horny, but I can fix the stressed," she offered.

"How?" he asked, intrigued.

"What about a game of Scrabble? I'll even spot you ten points," she coaxed, eyeing the box in the corner of the room.

"Ten kisses, instead?" he pushed.

Betty looked at him. Daniel was always pressing his luck – like the time he'd made her late to Justin's talent show because he'd wanted to redecorate his living room. Amanda had let him in and he'd literally dragged her out of bed on a Saturday morning, coffee and bagel in hand as a bribe, wanting her advice on curtains. He swore he'd take her to lunch and then he'd let her go. Only, they happened to pass by Restoration Hardware on their way back from lunch, where he insisted on picking out furniture.

After browsing around and deciding on furniture and a table lamp, Daniel decided that he needed new wall accents. He'd teasingly begged for her to let him have one of the nude paintings Matt had painted of her. Obviously she'd threatened to beat him over the head with the new lamp he'd purchased if he didn't shut up. They went into an art gallery and he found other paintings instead.

After that, Daniel said he wanted to paint the walls to match everything. He promised that was the last thing he'd ask her to help him with. He swore she'd still be able to make it back to her apartment to change and get to Queens on time, but at some point they ended up having a paint fight. The outfit she'd had on wasn't even salvageable once she'd tripped over a roller and fell on top of him, causing him to knock over a can of paint which had gotten all over both of them.

After cleaning up, Daniel took her to Bergdorf's and picked out a versatile black pencil skirt dress with faux fur at the top for her to wear instead. She loved that dress; before it was merely because of the way it fit her, but now she wondered if deep down, she'd loved it because it reminded her of that day, who gave it to her, and how he'd reacted when she came out of the dressing room in it:

"Okay, here's the last one," Betty announced.

Daniel stood there with his mouth gaping open.

"It's too tight, isn't it? And the faux fur's a little much? I mean, it's only a talent show," she wavered and looked at the price tag. "Plus, it's $1,000! I could pay half my month's rent for that much! That settles it – it's going back!"

"I-It's p-perfect!" he managed to sputter out. "We're taking it!"

"What?! Daniel! I can't afford this – even half of it," she told him. "Wait, you're right – it doesn't matter what it looks like on me or how much it costs. If we don't leave now, we'll never make it to the show on time. I'll just charge it and stash some Ramen away from Amanda to live off of."

"No, Betty, you look . . . Wow . . ." he stared at her like she was Kiera Knightley.

"Daniel, stop! I appreciate the vote of confidence, but aren't you laying it on a little thick?" she brushed his reaction off.

"I'm serious, Betty. You look great. Not the polite 'great', but the if-I-didn't-know-you-I'd-be-hitting-on-you-right-now 'great'," he blurted out.

Betty stood there shocked, confused, and embarrassed; her face getting redder by the second.

"I-I shouldn't have said that. Shit! I'm sorry. Maybe all those paint fumes went to my head," he nervously joked. "You do look beautiful, Betty. And the dress is on me – it's my fault your outfit was ruined."

"Thank you – you can take it out of my paycheck if you want," she smiled, awkwardly.

"No, Betty. It's a gift. Consider it payback for all the things I've put you through over the years," he teased.

Betty shyly smiled at him.

"Okay," she relented. "Thanks for doing this. And you really didn't have to go with me either. I'm sure watching a bunch of teenage kids sing and dance isn't really your thing – in fact I know it isn't."

"Hey, it's my fault for messing up your clothes. And Justin's a great kid. I don't mind an amateur production every once in a while," he assured her. "It'll be fun."

"Yeah," she feigned excitement, still trying to wrap her head around what Daniel had said and the fact that he'd just bought her a dress that was way too expensive. Although, to him, spending $1,000 was probably like spending $50 to a normal person. Even so, something was going on with him.

"Betty? Hey, where were you just now?" Daniel snapped her out of it. "Are you okay? Do you need me to get someone?"

"No. I'm fine. I think I just remembered something though," she explained. "I don't know exactly when it happened, but I helped you redecorate your apartment and you bought me a dress for Justin's talent show."

"B, that's amazing!" he gently pulled her close, careful of her incision and weak state. "I think that happened about a week after your sister's wedding. Damn, I loved how you looked in that dress . . ."

"You didn't plan that paint fight so you could play dress-up with me, did you?" she flirted.

"No, but I'm glad it happened. I couldn't make my eyes stop wandering toward you in that dress the entire time," he mused.

"Oh, my god! Did you drop our tickets at the booth on purpose just so you could check out my ass?" she recalled another part of the memory.

"Guilty," he admitted, sheepishly.

"Daniel!" she berated, shoving his chest.

"What?! It's not a crime to check out your sexy best friend, is it?" he innocently shrugged.

"Apparently you had no qualms about thinking dirty thoughts about me," Betty huffed in annoyance. "I guess I still value our friendship more than that."

"Betty, you know I did, too. Honestly, I did. I'd never hurt you or treat you like you were just a pretty face. You've always meant so much more to me than that. But hey, I bought that dress. What was so wrong about enjoying the benefits of it?" he argued, flashing that sexy, boyish grin of his.

That grin could win over anyone – even her.

"I give up – I'm too tired to fight. C'mere," she smiled, teasing his bottom lip.

"Betty, I was flirting, we don't have to do this," Daniel told her.

"I know you were. And I was stalling for all the wrong reasons – reasons that don't even matter anymore. You're not my boss, we're not just friends – you're my husband. I want you, Daniel. I want to fall in love with you again," she confessed. "And part of that is kissing you – truly kissing you. I know almost four years' worth about you personally. But the physical data is lacking. I need to know all of you. And maybe if we're lucky, a little lip-action might trigger more memories, too."

"What about the sterile atmosphere turn-off?" he asked.

"I guess we'll just have to power through it. I can, if you can?" she challenged.

"Did you even have to ask?" he grinned and devoured her lips.

Betty got lost in the moment, not even caring about the taste of garlic in his mouth, only how wonderful it felt to be so thoroughly kissed that she wasn't left contemplating, "Was that it?". Honestly she was surprised at how natural it was - nothing awkward like bumping foreheads or noses. She might not consciously know what kissing Daniel was like, but her instincts obviously did.

Her hands and lips knew exactly where to go without hesitation. Their tongues dueled, exploring the depths of each other's mouths as if she and Daniel hadn't been together in years. She fingered the hair at the nape of his neck and traced the lines of his face. His hands caressed her cheeks and ran through her hair. His lips made a slow seductive trail down her neck, and concentrated on the curve between her neck and shoulder. His breath drew her in to the point where she knew she'd have a mark the next day, but she didn't care. In fact, she secretly kind of liked the idea of Daniel Meade branding her as his own. She guided his lips back to hers again, and god it felt like she was right where she belonged. She pulled back before things got too intense, but didn't regret any second of it.

"God, I missed being able to do that," Daniel confessed as they came up for air.

"I understand why," Betty grinned and sucked on his swollen bottom lip. "That was definitely not something I ever pictured doing with you!"

They both laughed.

"As much as I'd like to continue doing this all day, there are still a million questions I have. Plus, I'm sure my family is waiting to see me, too. Unless . . . maybe they aren't speaking to me?" she worried.

"Baby, why would you think that?" Daniel asked.

"Because I abandoned them. I went to London instead of staying here to help them out," she explained.

"B, I told you last night that we are all so proud of you and what you've accomplished. No one is upset with you for pursuing your dreams and what you wanted for once. We love you – don't ever question that," he assured her. "Everyone has been coming to see you and take care of you. Wilhelmina even makes a weekly visit. And Connor showed up with flowers."

"Wait – Connor? I thought he was still in jail?" Betty questioned.

"Willie got The Senator to reduce his sentence to a month and let him out on good behavior," Daniel explained. "Hilda made a rotation schedule to make sure you weren't alone. She, Marc, Amanda, and Justin made sure you were well-groomed once a week. Marc, your dad, and sometimes Amanda when she was feeling up to it, watched telenovelas together and tried to coax you out of your coma with food. Mom's been sitting with you, knitting baby blankets, and giving you the daily dish on Wilhelmina's antics. When Christina was here, she'd talk about Stuart and William, and all the crazy designs Amanda tried to get past her and on the racks while she's been working for her. Your dad, Tyler, Bobby, and I watched the games in here - Alexis and DJ, too when they came. Sometimes we'd play cards and deal you in. I know it sounds strange, but we were trying anything to get you to wake up."

"That's so sweet! I didn't realize how much people cared," she sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"Yeah, Gio and his wife sent a deli gift basket and flowers, too," he added.

"Hopefully you stayed away from the salami," she smirked.

"You'll never let that go, will you?" he complained.

"Daniel, your entire office needed to be aired out and I had to cancel your afternoon meetings when the Zantac and Beano didn't work," she snickered.

"Go away!" he pouted.

"Oh come on, Daniel. You have to admit it was a little funny," she coaxed, kissing his cheek, then his nose, and his lips, before resting her forehead against his. "Right?"

"Yeah, okay," he reluctantly agreed, toying with a lock of her hair. "You know it was no walk on the runway when Marc forced you to eat that veggie burger for lunch either."

"We're even," Betty sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you that Suzuki did a 'Betty & Baby Watch' segment on Fashion Buzz, updating everyone on your status. He and his family even sent flowers and a gift basket. Strangers have sent things, too," he pointed to the elaborate display along the right front and side walls of her room. "I'd prepare to be bombarded by the press in a few hours. Word gets out fast, unfortunately, and I can only hold them off for so long."

"Wow, I didn't realize it was such a big deal. I guess I should have though, since you're involved," she replied.

"You're pretty popular, now, too. And it's not just because you're married to me. Your magazine is really successful. Its numbers aren't as big as MODE, but then again, MODE is a lot more established and caters to a different demographic."

"I guess that makes sense . . . but if you were with me in London, what were you doing?" she asked.

"I'm the Creative Director for Royal Athletics – it's another Dunne magazine," he answered.

"Are you happy there?" she wondered.

"Yeah, I am. I still like American sports better, but European ones aren't that bad and I don't have to deal with all the paperwork and stress that being an EIC had," he said.

"Who's been covering us while we've been gone?" Betty worried.

"Well, Lindsay just bumped your creative director up to temporary EIC. You guys had agreed to do that anyway once you went on maternity leave. And my assistant and the senior graphics editor are filling in for me. I've been trying to work from here, but they do the rest," Daniel explained.

"Oh. What happens if my memory doesn't come back? I don't know that magazine at all. How the hell can I run something I know nothing about?" she panicked.

Daniel started laughing.

"What? What's so funny? Daniel, why are you laughing at me?!" she shoved his chest, frustrated by his reaction.

"I'm sorry, B. I know this must be hard for you. But Betty, you started out in a fashion magazine – the furthest place from where you wanted to go. You knew nothing about it. Yet in four years you managed to make it all the way to an offer of a full-fledged editor. You can't tell me that you wouldn't be capable of jumping back in at a magazine that actually had your personal vision," he pointed out.

"You're right. I'm worrying about nothing. And maybe it won't even be an issue anyway, because maybe I'll have my memory back by then," she said, cheerily.

"There's my Butterfly Queen!" he smiled and held up his hand for a high-five.

"I see some things haven't changed," Betty teased, hitting his hand.

Daniel chuckled.

"Except, since when did you start calling me that?" she asked.

"Not long after we were together in London. I kept teasing you about a nickname after the wedding. This one finally met your approval," he recalled. "I call you B, for short."

Betty smiled, shyly.

"Did those names have something to do with chipmunks and Britney Spears?" she wondered. "You can laugh at me if you want; my mind's still extremely fuzzy."

"No – no you're right, they did," he answered, excited that she remembered something else. "We sang karaoke after the reception – you were really drunk and sang 'Hit Me Baby, One More Time' while attempting to do a lap dance on an old guy and then me before I stopped you. The next day, we hung out with your sister and Bobby and I found out his nickname for you. So that's where that came from."

"Wow . . . I wish I could remember more than bits and pieces of things," she sighed.

"It'll all come back," he assured her, kissing her forehead. "Just look at how much you've remembered so far. I didn't expect this much so soon."

"You're right," she smiled. "Daniel? Is there any chance you have some of that risotto left over? I'm getting hungry."

"Sorry, baby, it's all gone. But our families went to lunch and I let them know you're awake. So I'm sure all of them will be in here when they're done and will bring you some food. It won't be Lettice, but anything's better than hospital food, right? And I'll have Eduardo send you some for dinner, if you want?" he offered.

"That's sounds good. Thank you," she smiled.

"I think the nurse should be here soon with Scarlett," he said.

"Good," she smiled. "Scarlett Rosa Meade. I'm so excited!"

"Are you sure you don't want it to be Suarez-Meade?" he asked.

"Positive. I don't want our daughter to have a complicated last name. I probably only hyphenated my name for business purposes," Betty assumed.

"You did. And I just didn't want to screw up her birth certificate only to have you find it years from now and yell at me for it," he joked.

"Daniel, I wouldn't do that – you act like I don't trust you to do the right thing," she defended herself.

"I wouldn't blame you for it," he told her. "It's not like I haven't screwed up a thousand times in the past."

"Stop beating yourself up," Betty insisted. "You're a good man who's made some mistakes. But you learned from them and have become the man I admire and trust."

"Thank you," Daniel smiled, then stared off into space with a worried expression.

"You'll make a wonderful father, Daniel," Betty assured him.

"How did you -" he started to question her ability to read his mind again.

"Because I know you," she reminded him. "You're brooding again. Wondering if you have what it takes. And trust me, you do. I'm sure I wouldn't have married you, or be raising this child with you if I hadn't thought that. And I think that now, too. You stood up for Justin when his own father wouldn't. You spent time with him after Santos died. You were ready to be a father to DJ. You're still there for both boys when they need you and even when they don't. And whenever you held baby William in your arms, I wanted to cry it was so sweet. You're the father of my child and I'm glad I ended up choosing you. I can't imagine any other guy I've known being so perfect for the job . . . so perfect for me. I don't know why I never saw it before, when you've been right beside me all of these years . . . I –"

"Knock, knock!" the nurse interrupted them. "I have someone here who's missed her mommy!"

They both carefully re-positioned themselves on their backs, sitting upright on the hospital bed.

The nurse handed the baby over to Betty and gave the new parents some privacy.

"Oh my god! Daniel, I think she's gotten even more adorable since last night!" Betty cooed, holding their daughter in her arms. "Hi, Scarlett! What do you think of your name, Scarlett Rosa Meade? It was your daddy's idea, so we can thank him by giving him lots of hugs and kisses, right?"

Daniel smiled at Betty and smoothed the hair on Scarlett's head.

"We're a family," she beamed, tears in her eyes as Scarlett grabbed onto her finger.

"Yeah, we really are," he grinned, tenderly kissing his wife's cheek and their baby's forehead.

Betty couldn't get over how right everything felt, despite having it all seem to suddenly fall into her lap without warning.