~ VI ~
It's three months after Ignacio's brush with death and things have finally settled down. Ignacio's back home cooking up a storm over the sometimes too-loud protests of his daughters, but try as they might he's determined to live his own life.
Daniel has to admire Ignacio for that; wonders why he can't do the same.
His realisation at the hospital troubles him; has done so for the past few months. At first his thoughts had been filled with helping the Suarezes in any way he could, small touches like he remembered Betty doing for him thousands of times before that have only just now hit home.
He doesn't know when it starts, but his actions become increasingly guided by WWBD (what would Betty do?). Or more accurately, what she expects the more perfect version of him to do.
It's how he comes up with the idea of putting his town car at Betty's disposal, ferrying her between Manhattan and Queens during the week. She's a little indignant at first but quickly sees the advantages of the plan, although she only accepts his offer after he puts his foot down.
The flipside of all his thoughtfulness is that he doesn't see her as much as he used to and for the first couple of weeks he refuses to admit that he kind of misses her constant presence in his life. But when he catches himself wondering what Betty's doing in mid-conversation with the head honcho of a potentially huge advertising client of Meade, he's forced to admit that yes, he misses her.
It isn't as if Daniel has no other friends but it isn't the same. He misses the way she knows him almost better than he does himself and what's more, misses the feeling that she's painstakingly introducing him to the better person he can be one day.
He tries brushing his uneasiness off as he watches Manhattan melt into the skyline. He's on the way to Queens tonight to participate in "a special celebratory feast" prepared by Ignacio himself as a thank you to everything he'd done to help them out. Never mind that Daniel doesn't need thanking but Ignacio had insisted and who was he to say no to a recently recovered cardiac patient?
When he's shown into the happy Suarez home he's relieved to see Ignacio on his feet again; Daniel had missed the older man's gentle ways. He's glad for her family's sake although his relief is mostly for Betty because he remembers her every word, every gesture, every expression at the hospital and knows he doesn't ever want to see that ever again.
She's as different to that Betty as she can be tonight though; all warmth and smiles and laughter and it's clear she isn't going to let her second chance with her father slip through her fingers any time soon.
She's wearing an unusual combination of a blue wrap dress with a cardigan that wouldn't look out of place at a Picasso exhibition. Touches of colour are always there in her wardrobe but what catches Daniel's eye tonight is how well the outfit becomes her in the soft, muted light of the Suarez home.
They sit rather randomly around the family table; there's a festive feeling in the air although he shouldn't be surprised. Maybe it has something to do with the streamers and balloons and what Daniel hazards to guess are hand made decorations that look both old and hideous enough to have been treasured efforts of either Betty or Hilda (even he knows that anything of Justin's would never look so awful). Wisely, he keeps his opinions to himself.
Being included in something so private and intimate makes Daniel uneasy and slightly giddy at the same time. He's never been able to shake the desire to be part of a warm, happy family and to be included with Betty's, even if it is for one night only, is like living on the edge of a dream.
She's retelling the story about how Daniel had thought playing Guitar Hero would be a good way to bond the team at a Meade retreat but which instead started a brawl that left three sub-editors in hospital, when it hits him.
He's right in the middle of his second empanada with his mouth uncomfortably full, smiling as he listens to Betty telling her story. He doesn't remember what she's saying, only remembers gazing at her smile in the amber and auburn light and her eyes dancing and then seeing, really seeing her for the first time. It's then, and only then that he realises.
She's beautiful. Really, truly, beautiful.
He's always thought of her as beautiful but perhaps had never felt it until now, not like this. He's never felt it in his bones and skin and face and hair and every shifting particle that is and will be him like he does now; doubts he's ever felt quite like this before.
And that's when it hits him, well and truly hits him like a trillion tonnes of bricks that's always been there, ready to be dropped on him at this very moment. It had been staring him in the face for goodness knows how long and he had never seen. God, he is such a moron sometimes because it's obvious to him now he's seeing her for the first time in a long time.
He's in love with her.
Betty.
His Betty.
He grips the edge of the table, swallowing panic down along with his empanada. As far as epiphanies go, the timing of this one sucks big brass balls.
This is not happening. Not here, not now. No, no, no, no. Not now.
Maybe if he refuses to acknowledge it, it'll go back into the stupid box where stupid Pandora came from.
He has no problems with his feelings, but even putting aside the fact that Betty's always felt like a sister to him, he'd bet his life she's always thought of him as a brother. So no, Daniel's brain, no. This is not happening.
Swallowing his rising panic whilst laughing at a joke Justin's just cracked turns out to be the hardest thing he's ever done. It doesn't help that every fibre of his being hums with the realisation, so much so that while half of him wants to make a run for it to the west coast the other half wants to fling himself across the table, grab her and –
"Daniel?" She's chewing on the remnants of a taco while poking at her salad, looking at him with concern. It shouldn't be attractive, but it is.
He is in such deep trouble right now.
"You have 'I'm panicking but trying really hard not to show it' face. Are you okay?"
He fervently hopes she can't read his 'I'm in love with you but can't say it because it's a sucky realisation and it'll ruin our friendship' face. "No, why?"
She carefully puts down her fork. Maybe his voice rising about eight octaves above normal gives him away, maybe not. He may never know. "Yes you are, don't lie to me. You're now making your 'panic with a side of crazy' face that you have when you're trying not to show it but it's slowly starting to freak you out like you want to jump through the window and you totally would, except you'd, you know, die or at least be seriously injured. I know you. Come on, spill it."
"I do not have panic face." He's painfully aware how stupid and panicky he sounds but given the choice of being thought an imbecile or admitting the truth, he'd take the former.
Of course she's right, he is panicking but if she ever finds out why it's going to be The End, thanks for playing, goodnight. "You don't know all my faces. I have faces … many faces … you don't know."
This is ridiculous. He sounds ridiculous, and judging from the faces around him, they all think he's being ridiculous too.
Betty's fork makes a rather loud clanging sound as it crashes onto the plate. "Ah, I kinda do. Hazards of being your assistant for three years. I've had to do things we both don't want to mention ever again." She's got that look in her eyes now; the one she gets when she's bracing for a fight but not really because she isn't actually angry but just wants to goad Daniel into betraying himself because yeah, it's that easy for her to manipulate him (but at least he knows it).
He puffs his chest out. "You don't."
"I so do."
"You really don't, Betty."
"I think I do, Daniel."
"Children." Ignacio tries interjecting with little success.
"No, Papi please, I'm enjoying myself." Betty rolls her eyes at Hilda, but before she can make an appropriate response Daniel flies out of his chair.
"I'm – I'm sorry." His mouth is dry; mind racing with vague things he could potentially say if only his brain could string two functioning sentences together. "I need to … I just remembered … the Book."
"Huh?"
"That's right, I ah – I just remembered." She's completely not buying it and she knows that he knows she's not. Stupid, stupid best friend. "The Book. Something in The Book struck me, you know, as I was eating, something's … not right. I need to fix it before it goes to the printer tonight."
He's gesturing wildly with his hands which is apparently one of many tells when he's lying. It doesn't help when he remembers Betty's the one who told him that.
He can't take this anymore. He makes profuse apologies to Ignacio about basically sort of ruining a perfectly a good evening but it can't be helped, he needs to get back to the office to fix this and they should completely do it another time.
As far as getaways go, it's really, really quick; one minute he's sweating (whether imaginary or not) under the stares of the Suarez family and the next he's diving into the car. He probably could've given the road runner a run for his money.
It's only after the car starts driving away that he allows himself one look back at the house. Betty's at the front gate, gazing after him with an expression ambiguous enough to set his heart racing with probability and possibility.
Daniel sinks into the seat and buries his head in his hands, automatically reaches into the mini-fridge at the back of the car.
He is in so much trouble right now.