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: A massive thank you, hugs and cookies to everyone who is reading and reviewing this little fic of mine. I'm astounded at the response this is having and am so very grateful. Hope you guys enjoy the chapter . . .
Chapter Six
"Helloooo. Earth to Betty."
Christina was waving her hand frantically in front of her face, but Betty remained as she was; sat on a chair in the Closet, hands clasped in her lap, unblinking.
"Oh look, Brad Pitt's just walked in – shirtless."
No response.
"Make that completely and utterly starkers-"
"I'm in love with him."
"Get in line girlie – half the world's female population still to go after Angelina."
"Huh. What?" Betty opened her mouth, finally staring up at her friend.
Christina frowned, "What are you . . . who are you talking about?"
Cheeks a now pleasantly red ripe tomato, no extra blusher needed, Betty looked down at her hands and sighed before making it official;
"Daniel."
There was silence.
She thought maybe the shock had at last shut Christina's incessantly open trap permanently. She lifted her head, chancing a glance to confirm her suspicions. What she hadn't been prepared for, however, was the downright ecstatic grin plastered wide across her face.
"I knew it," she said, "I just knew it."
Betty folded her arms across her chest, "You could have told me," she replied petulantly.
Christina scoffed, "As if you would have believed me Betty. You would have shoved me into a mental asylum, locked me in solitary, and then buried the key in my fake grave right next to Henry's."
Betty didn't even deny it, "This is so bad," she said, burying her head in her hands; a motion that was fast becoming far too familiar and would soon be engraved eternally in muscle memory, "So very bad."
"Why?" Christina said, throwing her arms out, "You're in love with him. He's in love with you. It's win-win."
Betty shook her head, the quiet words tumbling out of her mouth, "He had a date last night."
The grin on Christina's face all but disappeared, which only helped Betty's heart sink further down the growing deep dark hole inside her.
"He's not in love with me," Betty repeated the words aloud – the words that had been spinning in her head, gleefully wreaking havoc with her mind and inflicting undeserved pain.
But damn hope was stubborn; fighting hard with logic and rationality, gripping impossibly hard to one thought like a lifeline, "but he lied."
"About what?" Christina asked taking a seat next to her.
"About how his date went," Betty said.
Christina was uncharacteristically silent, prompting Betty to turn her head and stare at her friend. She seemed to be deep in thought, a crease folding along her forehead – Betty could almost see the clockwork ticking inside.
"What if that's not all he was lying about?" Christina said as the epiphany she was searching for finally came within her grasp.
Betty sported a thoroughly confused expression, "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Christina said, shifting on her seat, excitement flaring up in her eyes, "What if he lied about actually even having a date?"
"No," Betty shook her head vehemently, disgusted and shocked at the suggestion of him concocting such a fabrication, "No Daniel wouldn't do that. He would never lie so blatantly. And why the hell would he lie about having a date – to me, of all people."
Christina had that particular look on her face again.
"Oh no. No, no, no; don't start that again."
"What?" Christina shrugged with all the ingenuousness of an innocent passer-by, standing on the sidelines, watching the drama unfold in front of her – whether fake or not, she was damn convincing.
"Oh you know what," Betty snapped.
"Fine," Christina huffed, "If you don't want to believe me when I say the man is head over heels in love with you, so much so that he faked a date just to get a reaction from you, so be it. You're just asking for years of heartache and misery – and it'll be your own damn fault."
The frustrated seamstress' unexpectedly biting rant left Betty stunned in silence.
"Do something about it," Christina implored; voice steady, quiet and unnervingly serious.
And then she stood up, leaving Betty alone to mull over her words.
And they stayed with her for the rest of the day. It didn't matter what she sat there and typed, her computer screen had happily taken to endorsing anarchy of the most traitorous kind. She couldn't escape the words.
Words, words, bloody words.
'Daniel had lied' is what glared back at her. The black Times New Roman print taunting her against stark white, 'Daniel had lied about everything.'
And so as 5 o' clock loomed near, Betty found herself taking in a deep breath, walking the short distance over to Daniel's office and rapping once against the already open door.
His head shot up instantly from his intent perusal of this month's layout, his gaze fixing on hers, a small smile gracing his lips, his eyes brightening just a little, but enough.
Betty felt something unnameable coil in the pit of her stomach at being on the receiving end of such a display of genuine affection, "Hey," she said entering the room.
"Hey, are you heading home?"
Betty nodded, "Only if there's nothing else you need me to do."
Daniel shook his head, "No, I think we're done for today."
"Ok."
She may have nodded the word as well as saying it out aloud, but she hadn't moved from her spot.
"So what was her name?"
Daniel raised a brow, surprised, "Whose?"
"You know," Betty answered, taking a few more steps into the office, "Your date last night?"
He shifted in his seat – it didn't go unnoticed.
"Jenny."
"Jenny?"
"Jenny Jones."
Now Betty raised a brow, "Jenny Jones?" How very original.
"Yeah," Daniel replied, a bare trace of steadily rising panic underlying the indignantly uttered word, "Why?"
"No, it's nothing," Betty shrugged, "I just haven't heard of her, that's all."
"Yeah, well, she's a, uh, an accountant."
Betty wanted to grin as the words tumbled out of his mouth. She could see his thought processes flying furiously across his face, easily summarised by one profanity he just about managed to stop himself from obviously mouthing: 'shit.'
"An accountant?" Betty smiled knowingly. She could see her new pandering to repetition was starting to grate, but it was too damn fun, because well, Daniel was making it too damn easy.
An accountant? Interesting.
Daniel nodded, "Yeah."
"Does she work for Mode?"
"No," Daniel shifted once again in his seat, and Betty almost felt guilty for making him so unbearably uncomfortable, but she figured Daniel deserved to squirm at least a little. Her suspicions, or rather Christina's surprisingly astute deductions, had in fact turned out to be true. Daniel had lied about the date. And she knew that now for certain with just one look at his woeful attempt to hide his guilt.
For once, Betty no longer had the urge to strangle Christina to death, but instead hug her senseless with wholehearted gratitude.
Her friend, though not the most likely candidate for providing sound advice, was right about something. If she wanted to know how Daniel truly felt about her; she was going to have to do something about it. There was no point sitting there pining and doing nothing. And quite simply put, it was not in her nature to just stand there, passive and inactive.
Her thoughts came full circle: she had to prove it – one way or the other.
"So how did you guys meet?"
"Um at a party – do you need me to call for the car to take you home?" he asked suddenly, not so deftly changing the subject of the conversation.
Betty smothered the smile that was desperate to make its presence known, "No that's ok," she waved the suggestion away, "I'll get a cab."
"You sure?" he said, standing, "I would give you a lift, except I'm not heading home just yet. I've got some stuff I need to sort through."
"If I didn't know any better Daniel, I'd say you were trying to get rid of me."
He looked horrified at the idea, "No," he floundered, "No, no, not at all. I just . . . I don't want to keep you; you look tired and it's been a crazy week . . ."
Betty smiled, "Relax Daniel. I'm kidding."
"Oh."
"I'll see you tomorrow?"
Daniel nodded, "Yeah."
Betty gave him a smile before heading for the door. She almost heard him exhale a small breath of relief as she left; and so quite naturally, she found she just couldn't help herself as she stopped, turned around and said,
"You know, I'd really love to meet Jenny. The three of us should get together and have dinner one night – what do you think?"
She had to give Daniel props for hiding the grimace so well as he half choked the words, "Sounds like a great idea."
She gave him another one of her big grins, "Great. Leave it to me."
And then she left him in his office – a perfectly dastardly, manipulative, and as unBetty-like as they came, plan forming in her head.
A/N 2: Okay so I'm kind of back to where I had originally planned to go with this fic, but I won't hold my breath that it'll stay on course since those damn plot bunnies are feisty little buggers, and they will be heard, damn it! . . . Ahem. Hope you liked this chapter; personally, I'm quite excited about sneaky!Betty. Let me know what you think. As always, reviews are welcomed and the bunnies need carrots. In simple maths: reviews equal carrots. Cheers,
SmilinStar
xxx