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: Wow. The response this fic is having has me flummoxed. Thank you ever so much for the wonderful reviews, you guys rock. I really hope you're still enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. And so without further ado, here's the next instalment . . .
Chapter Nine
The words fearless and reckless were seldom used without one another.
But Betty, standing there on that bridge, begged to differ. That was she would, if she ever managed to pry herself away from Daniel's insistent lips, his possessive grip and if she could steal herself away from the dreamlike haze that seemed to envelope and buffer her from distant reality long enough to process that unverifiable sentence.
If she could, she would argue that yes she had been fearless. But reckless? Only time would tell what this one moment of fearlessness would cost her in the long run – be it happiness or heartache, she just knew for now that it had been the right thing to do.
She pulled away from him. He might have groaned in protest, but she could hear nothing but the blood hurtling through her veins.
She held on to him tight, her arms wound round his neck.
He held on to her tight, his hands firmly around her waist, pressing hot against her hips.
She held her face a scant centimetre or two away from his through sheer strength of determination and self control.
She was grinning like a fool.
But that didn't matter.
He was grinning right back at her.
"So . . ."
His eyes were twinkling, the various sources of light around them enhancing the breathtaking phenomenon.
"So . . ." she repeated slowly back at him. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, her eyes just as bright as his.
The second lingered into two, before Daniel waded into the surprisingly comfortable silence with the words;
"I don't know about you but I'm starving – what say you to me, you and some pizza?"
Both their grins grew wider if that were even possible; his grip on her never loosening as he spoke. It wasn't until she nodded, "Sounds good," that his arms dropped from her waist. She momentarily felt the loss of warmth from his hands, but it wasn't for long as he slowly, deliberately wrapped his hand in hers and tugged gently.
She followed.
Side by side. Hand in hand. And the rest of the world was oblivious to their smiles.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
They hadn't uttered a sentence, said a single word about what this meant.
Unspoken, but not unfelt, and completely understood.
No words were really needed.
They were in their own blissful bubble and were adamant they were going to enjoy it while they still could. Reality had been dragged off far away, kicking and screaming, but like the little troublesome brat it was, it would be back before they knew it; the calm before the storm was something they could revel in – for now at least.
He had walked her home.
His jacket firmly around her shoulders – he had slipped it on her sometime past midnight as they had strolled through the near empty park.
It smelt of nothing but him – a whiff of his favourite cologne and something that was unmistakeably Daniel. She had made a point of it with words that had fallen out of her mouth rather ungracefully before she'd had a chance to stop them, "Mmm, you smell good."
He had chuckled, as she horrified, blushed profusely at her inability to keep from embarrassing herself.
But that blush soon turned to another sort altogether as Daniel replied with the softly spoken, serious and quite frankly perfect words, "And you, Betty, look beautiful tonight."
She couldn't help but swoon inside – she would have replied with the predictable, over used line, 'you don't look so bad yourself' following it with an internalised and unspoken 'downright edible actually,' but instead she went for;
"Well at least one of us does."
He grinned gloriously, lighting up his entire face before shaking his head and looking down at her with nothing but pure concentrated adoration. It did nothing to diffuse her now permanent blush, her skin tingling everywhere as his intense gaze watched over her.
She found she didn't have the courage to quite meet his eyes yet as they walked a few more paces in silence.
Now content to just soak up the beautiful night, each other's company and each mull that kiss over in their own heads, they continued on for several minutes – each step closer to Betty's home, and to the end of their night.
Part of her didn't want it to end. The irrational thought that tonight had been a figment of her imagination consumed her. The combination of wine and moonlight having created a hauntingly vivid and sensual hallucination – that only in the darkness of the night could seem so perfect, flawless and eternal. It was not an unfounded fear. Reality always seemed to be all that more devastating in the harsh glare of sunlight.
And by the way Daniel seemed to tense up beside her as her house came into view meant she was not the only one who felt it.
But it was something they weren't ready to face yet as they came to a halt and Daniel tellingly opted instead for a different line of conversation;
"So," he started, "Am I forgiven?"
"For what?"
"Oh you know, lying to you about my date, turning up late, getting you to pay for your own wine and then feeding you cheap pizza after nearly standing you up."
Betty shook her head, smiling slowly, "Maybe."
"Maybe?" Daniel raised a brow, the edges of his mouth curling up into another smile.
Betty nodded.
"Okay," he took a step closer to her as they stood face to face, Betty's hand resting on the gate beside her, "So what do I have to do to get you to forgive me?"
Maybe it was the way he was looking at her just then; the streetlights bouncing off his face, casting blessed shadows across his profile, making him seem all that more perfect and unreal. Or maybe it was that very fearlessness that appeared to have its hold in every facet of this miraculous night, blending seamlessly with her growing confidence which let the following two words fall out of her mouth so effortlessly;
"Kiss me."
He seemed to take a second too long to process the whispered words, and her courage just moments ago seemed to be falling away the longer he took to respond. But Daniel finally grasped this after his initial surprise had receded, and she was thankful for the resolve she now saw in the blue of his eyes as his face edged forwards.
His nose grazed the soft skin of her cheek before his lips finally slid onto hers – soft gentle and undemanding.
Their first kiss - she had been the one to initiate it. It had been a desperate attempt on her part to tell him that she understood.
She hadn't taken the time to savour it.
Now she could.
Slow and teasing. It was just so Daniel, she mused, but that train of thought was lost as Daniel moved even closer, held her tighter, his lips conveying what he had been unable to in spoken words before.
She pressed against him further, afraid her legs would give way but she had nothing to worry about. He was holding her upright and Betty wasn't sure if he'd ever let her go again.
But he did. Slowly, pulling away, he let his forehead rest against hers, their breathing shallow, their expired air intermingling and being breathed in once more with each steadying breath they took.
"We should really talk about this," Betty whispered, though she hated herself for saying the words.
She felt him nod, "We will."
And she was as grateful for the reassurance as she was for the reprieve, "Okay."
He lifted his head from hers to look down and hold her gaze, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
She nodded mutely.
He leaned down and placed a fleeting kiss on her forehead and then stepped away to watch her turn around and walk up the small path to her front door.
She stopped once there, gave him a small smile and then disappeared behind the door.
She watched him leave through the curtain, turning and walking away after a moment's hesitation, a hint of his smile still there like an afterimage. His white shirt rippled in the wind, and it was then she realised that though she may have still had his jacket on, he was the one left holding her heart.
There was no room for doubt and it could not be undone. She could only now hope that he had truly left his with her.
A/N 2: This was most definitely the hardest chapter to write so far; the angst has a funny way of creeping back in, but I really hope it didn't disappoint anyone. Once again, please leave a review, I would love to know what you thought. Cheers,
SmilinStar
xxx