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: Hugs to everyone reading and a massive thank you to everyone who has left me such wonderful reviews. You guys are truly awesome; I can't quite express it better than that. Enjoy . . .
Chapter Ten
She was used to the ever present whispering that went on behind her back. The sneering glances at her supposedly unfashionable attire, the downright disgusted glares at her even walking the corridors of their world and the very palpable horror of sharing the same air as her when stuck in the elevator. She was used to it. And normally she'd breeze through the malicious bitching, ignoring them, head held up high and never letting it get to her.
This morning was a different story.
The added anxiety being heaped on from the previous night probably didn't help. The butterflies had refused to take a damn seat on the many walls of her intestines and the taunting thoughts in her head battered cruelly against the insides of her skull.
It had been a dream . . .
He hadn't meant it . . .
Hell, he actually hadn't even said anything . . .
And so on.
On and on. Relentless.
Bagel and coffee in hand, she walked past Amanda who was sat at reception, restlessly flicking through pages of a magazine. Betty outright ignored her, blindly missing the passing look of indignation and shock at such a slight that crossed the blonde's face. But Betty had been far too busy telling the voices in her head to 'shut the hell up' to notice or care.
She reached her desk and wasn't at all surprised to find Daniel not in yet. She breathed a sigh of relief as she made a mad dash in and out of his office, leaving his steaming coffee and bagel on his desk, and then making her determined way over to the Closet.
She needed help.
Her thoughts were stuck in a chaotic tangle and she could neither free nor grasp them.
She had no idea why she thought Christina would be able to help her, but nevertheless, here she was;
"Christina!" she called out desperately.
She was greeted by the sight of Christina standing in front of a ghastly fluorescent pink piece of fabric, tailor's tape measure hanging around her neck, hacking the said piece of fabric to bits with a certain gusto that could only be attributed to plain disgust.
She stopped to watch, intending to ask her what on earth she was doing, and then decided against it.
"Christina!" she called again.
And this time her ninety five percent of the time insane Scottish best friend finally heard her.
"Betty!" she screamed, dropping her scissors, running forward to grab her hand and drag her towards some chairs. She quite literally pulled her down beside her.
"Spill," she said, unable to contain herself any longer, rabid with the excitement, "Go on, what happened?"
Betty wasn't sure where to begin; she just knew this whole situation seemed awfully familiar.
"Are you sure you and I weren't swapped at birth?"
Christina opened her mouth, and stared – it was a pretty mean impression of a goldfish, Betty had to give her that much.
"What?"
"You and Hilda, you're both the same. Maybe you're actually sisters and I'm just . . ."
Christina waved off whatever she was trying to say, far too impatient to indulge Betty's meandering thoughts, "So are you gonna tell me or not?"
Betty thought it was best to maybe just get straight to the point. She didn't have enough energy to recount the entire night, well not with the level of detail it really deserved; and so she just blurted out the two words which really spoke for themselves:
"We kissed."
Christina's response wasn't quite the same as Hilda's though. Instead of the several 'Oh my god's' she had been treated to by her sister, Christina had opted for, "Well thank god for that!"
Betty frowned, "What do you mean?"
"I mean can you imagine if I'd been wrong?"
That had been the worst possible thing to say as Betty stared at her, wide eyed, mouth hanging hideously open.
Christina frantically back-pedalled, cursing her gift for uninvitingly opening her trap at the most inappropriate of times.
"Not that I thought I'd be wrong. Or that it would go wrong . . ."
Betty took in a deep, heaving breath.
"So what did he say?" Christina asked, changing the conversation swiftly, allowing herself little time to dig her grave that bit deeper.
Betty wasn't sure how to answer that question either.
After the miasma of euphoria and joy had dissipated overhead she was only to be left with miserable doubt.
He had said they would talk about it.
And she trusted him and his word.
But she couldn't help think he would turn around and tell her it was a mistake. That nothing could actually come of it. And if he told her that, then she wouldn't know what to do.
It was clearly irrational. Deep down she knew Daniel was not capable of hurting her like that – not intentionally.
But the deep seated fear remained and it had caused her an endless, restless night full of fitful tossing and turning.
"Nothing," she answered Christina truthfully – because in all honesty, Daniel had not admitted a thing.
Christina was pensive, and though it lasted a sum total of two seconds, it was still long enough to be disconcerting.
"Well, Daniel's a more 'actions speak louder than words' kind of guy."
Betty smiled.
True.
There was a reason she had come to Christina, after all.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
On returning back to her desk, she found her nerves had all but abandoned her as she took in the sight of one Daniel Meade pacing the floor of his office; hands running back and forth furiously through his hair, messing it up beyond all recognition, and several top buttons of his shirt undone as he continued his agitated moments. It was damn cute, is what it was, and a small smile rose unbidden from within her as she took him in.
All her previous worries seemed like a distant nightmare as she stood in his doorway and watched as he sensed her presence in mere seconds and quite literally spun 180 degrees on the spot to face her – a huge, relieved grin spread wide across his face, sparkling out through every fleck of blue in his eyes.
"There you are!" he quite literally burst forward, making a completely innocent and subconscious move to grab her by the waist.
But he never made that last stretch of contact.
She didn't know why she had done it. But she had. She had taken a step back from him. And it was too late to undo.
The grin vanished from his face. The sparkle in his eyes dulled away, only to be replaced with confusion and a twin hurt that seemed to rip through her as she realised the stupidity of her movement.
He looked behind her – seemingly noticing the several members of Mode staff, milling about, too caught up in their work to even notice their boss and his quirky assistant in what would otherwise seem a normal day to day encounter between the two.
Except it wasn't.
It was anything but normal.
"Daniel-"
But he cut her off before she could explain, "Its ok, Betty. I get it. You don't want people knowing about us. I get it, and its fine."
She shook her head, "Daniel we should really talk about this. Last night . . ."
She drifted off, not really sure how to continue that particular line. So many words, thoughts and feelings could do to sufficiently describe the previous night, but in starkly painted reality, there were none whatsoever.
And then something hit her. Striking a chord, resonating in her ears, "Us. You said us."
It was the most glorious sight she had ever seen. The slowest, shiest little smile graced his lips as he whispered the words, "Yes I did."
"You and me?" Betty said, her breathing far too erratic now to attempt to return it back near even vaguely normal, "Really?"
"I know I'm not perfect Betty. And I know I can't make you any promises that this will work, but I think we can do this. You and me. We can do this. But only if you want to."
She was quiet.
Silent as a mouse on the outside, but inside, her heart was screaming at her to say four little words at him: 'I do want to,' was all she needed to say. But it was her head that would win this particular round.
"What about them?" she said.
'Them' needed no clarification. He knew what she had meant. It had been why she had stepped back away from him just moments ago.
"I don't care about them." He spoke the words with such resolve – she had no choice but to believe him and concede, that maybe in all actuality, Daniel was in fact a words and actions kind of guy. And she had no problems with that - none at all.
"Really?" she whispered, teetering on the edge.
He took in a small breath.
This would be their test, she would realise later, but in that moment she had no idea how much was resting on her.
He took another slow step forward.
And this time she hadn't moved a muscle.
A tangible relief seemed to ripple through him as he cupped her cheek with his hand, gently brushing a stray, wayward strand of hair off her face with his thumb. He ducked his head ever so slightly to meet her eyes as she looked up at him and whispered the word "really."
"Okay," she smiled.
"Okay," he repeated back at her, before leaning down to once again capture her lips. A contact she now realised she could no longer do without.
And here in this room, in this building, in this world, it seemed to be the most natural, logical progression of their story. One that needed no further justification.
There was a shriek in the far distance.
It could have been Amanda, but neither one of them really cared.
A/N 2: So I tried feeding a little bit of angst back into this, but the Plot Bunnies are a little too excited because it's spring and there are daffodils in my garden, and so they're having none of it. Fluff it is, I'm afraid. Damn things have made me a sap. There are two (but don't hold me to that) more chapters left. But for now, hope you guys enjoyed it and please leave a review sharing your thoughts. Cheers,
SmilinStar
xxx