A complete crush.
Disclaimer: None of the characters/ familiar storylines are mine.
A/N: This fic ignores all episodes that come after Burning Questions. Also, Wilhelmina's baby is ignored. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!
"Betty?"
Daniel stopped, one step out of his office. One hand behind him held the door knob, the other crooked in front of his chest, jacket was draped over his arm.
"I thought you were...but you're not," he said, haltingly.
Her eyes regarded him, the pools of chocolatey colour he imagined himself gazing into without fear of being discovered.
"No, I'm not."
He seemed emboldened by a certain quality of her voice, a certain sure firmness that was all Betty Suarez, and he shut the door, taking another step forward. "No." He seemed nervous. His tongue flicked out once, trying to wet his dry lips.
"You should try and get over Henry, you know," he said, somehow moving closer to her despite an inexplicable awkwardness at seeing his assistant walk into the office. "There's no harm in having dinner with a...friend."
"I know," Betty said, quietly, stepping towards him.
Daniel had been trying to find out what Betty felt towards Gio, whether it was friendship or love, but instead his statement had become an invitation, and he wasn't unhappy about that at all. It was a simple way into re-offering his company - or re-begging hers.
"No harm at all," he said, and for no apparent reason he was whispering. Maybe it was because Betty was so close to him, the distance so small he instinctively felt there was no need for volume.
Then something snapped in the environment, both literally and emotionally; some noise from the corridor, and Betty suddenly seemed to awaken from some vague veil of confusion. "Let's get dinner," she said, in her practical-assistant voice.
Daniel wasn't sure he minded. Smiling, he offered his arm to her as he had after the Get Real Fashion show, recalling the rush of inexplicable gallantry he had felt. He had changed for better in a big way, he had benefitted someone, helped them achieve something important to them that day.
Tonight, he just felt happy.
Betty
Walking down the darkened corridor of Mode arm in arm with Daniel was oddly comforting and - right. It felt right, like it had felt after the fashion show with real models. There is so much to appreciate about the situation, though it seems simple at first. Just an assistant and her boss, just best friends, arms linked. But if you're that assistant, if Daniel Meade is that boss, there is so much more you notice.
You notice the crisp whiteness of the boss's shirt, how soft the fabric of his sleeve is, the warmth of his arm strong against yours. You see that familiar smile on his face, only it's not quite the same, but you can't really place the difference. There's something in his eyes that tells you everything, and you know that somehow only you can see it. There are things he can tell you without words that words would only complicate that much more.
Daniel is telling me he loves me. That much I can tell from his eyes, those pretty blue shiny things. It's silly and shallow maybe to fall for someone because of their eyes, the true azure quality of them; then again, it's cliched to fall for someone because you can see their true souls through those clear, clear windows.
But have I fallen for Daniel? Why is my brain so longwinded? Why can't i just ask it a question and get 'yes' or 'no' back? Why, why, does it always have to be 'maybe so'?
There is definitely something I feel for him, something real and loving, but is it natural attachment after working together so closely for so long, or...or something else?
Daniel
I feel so much love for the woman - girl - woman - on my arm I feel like it is a miracle it is not seeping out of my every pore.
Is this what love does to people? Turn them first into a soppy, gushing, dreaming teenager, and then into an Old-English-speaking bard? Get a grip, Daniel. You're still editor-in-chief of Mode, even if you are in love with Betty Suarez.
I feel like recently there has been something between us. More...conflicting...implications.
Like our discussion about the pissing contest. Honestly, I don't know what made me...explain that I have the...yeah.
Because I do have better aim.
Well, literally, at least. In the magazine world, Alexis is way up ahead of me.
Gio
Mr. Daniel Meade does not deserve Betty Suarez.
Otherwise, this world is impossibly unfair.
Mr. Daniel Meade could not possibly mess around with thousands of women, and then still, end up with a perfect love.
That is simply...injustice.
What does he have in common at all with Betty? I understand her.
Oh, please. Don't give me that 'opposites attract' crap.
Surely, I can be The Guy for Betty.
Gio Rossi watched in disbelief as the loving pair walk past his shop window, smiling into each other's eyes. Spare a thought, he found himself begging Betty silently through the glass pane.
He knew if she did not turn back now, he would just let go. Because then it would be clear; she would have absolutely rejected him and firmly established that she had no interest whatsoever in his being her Guy.
He gazed darkly at the pair, at Daniel. At his expensive suit, his effortlessly ex-playboy handsome charm. Was it true? Money did buy everything, perhaps, just not directly.
She turned.
Just the briefest look back. The slightest meeting of eyes, that fleeting moment of re-attachment, before she turned away so quickly it really was like it never happened. And Daniel had not noticed at all.
But she had turned.
Dinner was surprisingly not tense. They were relaxed, and it was clear that tonight, for once at least, it was friends together.
They walked into the bar where Daniel had met Renee at Henry's band's gig, and stood near the entrance for a while, looking at the scene. Of course, the people were all different, the overweight tattooed guys not at their seat from that night.
They looked at each other and Betty smiled encouragingly at Daniel, who returned a smile of both gratitude and encouragement - for her.
And walking over to the bar, they sat down at the counter. But here it was going to have to be made clear; no more muddles, no more friends-then-lovers-then-friends confusion. A large banner declaring Couples' Night hung over the dance floor, briefly reminding Betty of the bowling alley with Henry.
But it was not Henry beside her now, it was Daniel, who looked unbearably awkward and hesitant.
And for no reason at all, Betty found herself recalling Gio, standing in the darkness of Gio's Sandwiches, his eyes finding hers for that split-second, the waiting she saw.
Daniel opened his mouth, and there was an inexplicable flash of colour before Betty's eyes, and then Gio was standing there. "Hi," he said, with a strange smile.
Daniel closed his mouth and stared from Gio to Betty and back again.
Betty stared at Gio for a while, and then said, "Did - did you follow us?"
There was a pause, during which Daniel and Gio eyed each other, and there was a rising sense of animosity.
"Come dance, Betty," Gio said, turning to her.
Daniel looked a bit pale - something child-like and boyish in his countenance - and then he regained his composure it seemed and rose from his seat, turning also to Betty, not speaking but looking at her with those eyes.
Betty stared back at the two of them.
"You know you want to," Gio said, and there was an almost dangerous teasing tone in his voice; Daniel inhaled and looked at her with those pleading, pleading eyes -
"You guys are pathetic," Betty said, suddenly, surprising even herself. She was growing incensed, wasn't even sure why. Then her brain took care of that and explained for her. "What do you think I am? Some kind of - of pet? You think you can play the game of call the dog, or something, see who I go to?"
There was a stunned silence, and Daniel tried, "No - no, Betty -"
But she was furious, still not sure why, but furious all the same; got off from her stool, grabbed her bag, stormed out of the place. And turned just once at the door.
A big mistake.
Those pair of eyes lingered in her mind all night, the hurt in them.
When the door had shut behind Betty for what seemed a long time, Daniel turned to face Gio. "What the hell did you think you were doing?" His face was pale again, pale this time with anger. His voice shook slightly; he had never been that great and controlling his emotions. "What the f-"
"Don't blame me, man," Gio said, narrowing his eyes at the man he felt such a viper-like mix of jealousy and hatred for. "Who do you think has been confusing her so goddamn much - stringing her along?"
Daniel was truly mad now; that stereotypical but inevitable red mist descended, and all his fevered eyes could see was Gio, standing in front of him. "Why y- I have not been stringing her along," he hissed. "I love her. I love her. Did you hear me?"
Gio was smiling queerly now, and he seemed to have a so-hit-me stance. "Oh yeah? You love her, do you? How many other women have you said that about? Well I got news for you, Mr. Meade. I lo-"
So Daniel did. Hit him, that was. He knew he shouldn't have done it, but it was much too late, and he had. Oh, God, he was a mess. The utter lack of control had plagued him throughout his life, much as he didn't want to admit it to anyone else. And when he was angry - he was rarely that vein-poppingly mad, but when he was -
But now Gio had swung back, and caught him cleanly in the eye. He stumbled backwards into the counter; that red haze had gone as quickly as it had come, and suddenly he felt scared and small and frightened that he had attacked someone. Not only had he punched them, he'd punched them in public, and - oh, God - the bartender was approaching them now, looking alarmed. Oh, God, Betty would be so disappointed with him. So beyond disappointed.
A/N: sorry if that was a bit angsty for people. I'll try and make the next ones lighter and funnier...unless you object? I hope you liked this chapter.