Hypotheses of the Unverifiable Kind

Disclaimer: Ugly Betty does not belong to me. I'm just borrowing the characters for my own personal, obsessive needs . . .

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Daniel/Betty

Summary: 'Exactly what were you supposed to do when you found out your boss may just be head over heels for you? Prove it, of course.' Hopelessly Daniel and Betty . . .

Author's Note: Once again, thank you so much to everyone who left me such wonderful reviews. Reviews make me obscenely happy and are greatly appreciated. So here's chapter three, and I hope you like it . . .

Chapter Three

She stood there with her mouth hanging open, most definitely unattractive but it couldn't be helped, after all it was rather miraculous that he had remembered this exact location, this exact spot, which she herself had long forgotten.

Guilt was starting to bite and nip its way inside her, a prelude to the gnarling and gnashing that was sure to follow like the monstrous beast guilt really was. Daniel obviously still thought she was pining over Henry, and she felt awful at having misled him. But here they were, the feeling only heightening as her thoughts strayed to the unadulterated awe and gratitude she held for the man standing there beside her.

"Maybe it's time to say goodbye," Daniel spoke softly, his eyes firmly fixed on the earth beneath their feet. "Again," he added, a sad smile playing on his lips.

There was that bile rising up again in her throat as her stomach did a sick little twirl at his words.

"Daniel," she sighed, hesitating, attempting to formulate words in her tired brain. But Daniel didn't give her the luxury of time as he spoke again;

"I know its hard Betty, but you've got to let go. You've got to move on. For your own sanity's sake."

He turned and looked down at her. His blue eyes imploring her with a desperation that he barely managed to conceal. The only thought that seemed to fester in her mind as she caught and held his gaze was that maybe it wasn't the desperation of a friend wanting what was best for her, but maybe something else entirely, something implausible and ridiculous enough to back up those blasted words constantly hammering inside her head.

"Daniel," she said again, quiet and remarkably steady, "I let go of Henry months ago."

The response was instantaneous.

"What?" It was said with a deceptive calm, his mouth staying open momentarily, before he clamped it shut and gulped inaudibly, acclimatising to this new startling piece of information before trusting himself to speak again, "But last night-"

"Last night was never really about Henry," Betty answered his unvoiced question with a thankful truth.

"Oh."

"I'm over Henry," Betty said attempting a tentative smile, before adding in earnest, "You helped me more than you realise."

"I," Daniel cleared his throat as he shifted almost nervously on his feet, "I did?"

She nodded, watching him so intently and not quite realising she was doing so.

"Yeah," she turned her whole body to face him now, her left hand reaching up to push back her glasses, "You did. And I don't think I ever really properly thanked you for it."

"Well, I . . . there's no need Betty," he said, "I only did what you would do, did, for me."

And she didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the softest pink tinge of his cheeks, his nervous little laugh, the fact that he couldn't look her in the eyes as he spoke, how he constantly shifted on the spot and reached up and tugged his tie, not once, but twice; all those little things added together that caused a flurry and rush inside her like a flock of birds leaving the nest all at once for warmer climes. Or perhaps, her stomach doing several complex somersaults in a row may have done just as well as a metaphor; needless to say she was left winded and utterly overwhelmed by the myriad of emotions that had flitted across her synapses as she realised maybe, just maybe, there was a little truth to Christina's words.

Mustering up all of what was left of her reserves of courage and forcing her most recent realisations to the recesses of her mind, she somehow managed to give him her hundred watt smile just then, the metal glinting off her teeth in the midday sun, "Thank you Daniel."

And then she gave him only time enough to mouth the words "you're welcome" before she moved forward, catching him off guard as she reached up and hugged him tight.

Daniel took only seconds to reciprocate the gesture, and as his arms instinctively came around her, his hands winding their way around her waist, she found herself being crushed further against the length of his hard planes. His face was now buried in her hair and she could feel his hot breath on her nape. She was sure her heart had sped up sufficiently so that he could feel it through the thin material of his crisp white shirt, but even if he had, he said nothing, only responding to hold her more closely as he returned the embrace she had initiated. She felt so warm, illogically content and loved.

She pulled back sharply.

A telling blush had now coloured her cheeks and she struggled to get her tangled emotions under control, "You know I'm feeling much better now, we should go back. They'll probably be wondering where we've got to."

A flash of disappointment and loss seemed to wash across Daniel's expression, but it was gone before it had truly registered with her.

He nodded, "You're right."

Betty nodded back, before sidestepping past him to lead.

She stopped not a few footsteps later, realising he hadn't followed. On turning back around she found him still stood there, staring down at the same spot of ground they had visited one night what seemed like an age ago; a night where she had symbolically laid Henry to rest; an idea born from the mind of the rather remarkable man standing there with her now. One niggling thought, however, remained. It had been pestering her this whole time and had finally managed to fight its way through to be entertained out loud.

"Daniel," she said returning once again to his side, "How did you remember this spot? I mean I couldn't even remember this exact location."

He looked up at her and a small grin spread across his face, "I didn't."

She frowned, "You mean-"

He shrugged, "It's roughly right. But come on, honestly Betty? I'm not that good."

And then she laughed, wondering that maybe he really was that good, but just a little too embarrassed to admit it.

"Come one," she said – the two words he had spoken not one hour ago echoing around them both.

He gave her a small smile and a nod of the head as this time, she led, and he followed.

A/N 2: This chapter was a monster to write; so I can only hope it didn't disappoint. I would love to know your thoughts, so please leave a review. As always, feedback is cherished.

SmilinStar

xxx