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2018-10-20
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don't forget my number

Summary:

After Daniel says it's too quiet to sleep, Betty starts calling him at night before bed. She doesn't realize it's going to matter so much--to both of them.

Notes:

Yeah, this show ended 8 years ago. So????

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It starts after Betty stays with Daniel instead of working on the disastrous UN shoot. Not right after; she has to deal with a million issues after the shoot falls apart and Daniel punches Matt and Wilhelmina kicks them out. But a few days later, she remembers what he said—it gets quiet without someone else there. It’s hard for him to sleep.

She doesn’t put much thought into it as she hits the call button. He can’t go days without sleeping again. It’s not healthy, and he clearly doesn’t do a very good job of dealing with it.

“Hi,” he picks up, sounding surprised. “You okay? It’s kind of late.”

“Yeah,” Betty says. “I know. I thought if we talked a little before you went to sleep, it might help. So it’s not so quiet and lonely.”

“Betty.” He sounds choked up. “You don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” She keeps her voice light and easy. “Honestly, Daniel, it’s not like it’s a big deal.”

His sigh is gusty in her ear. “Okay,” he finally says quietly. “Thank you.”

“No problem. Does your hand still hurt?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

Betty huffs. “I will remind you. It was cool.”

“Sure, now you think it’s cool.”

“Hey, I laughed right after you did it.”

“That’s true.” There’s a smile in his voice now. “It does still hurt a bit. Believe it or not, I haven’t been in that many fistfights. I didn’t know my knuckles would be all scraped up.”

Betty laughs. “I do believe that, actually. You’re more of a lover than a fighter.”

“I could be a fighter.” He sounds like he isn’t sure if he should be offended or not.

“Sure you could,” she soothes, rolling her eyes a little at how ridiculous he is.

“You know, when you ran out in the morning I realized it was the first time I’ve ever been on the receiving end of that.”

Betty wrinkles her nose. “I mean, it’s probably a little different. Yours is way sleazier because you slept with them first.”

Daniel huffs. “Okay, thank you for reminding us both that I’m sleazy.”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean,” Betty says. “You’re different now. And speaking of, did you look at any of those grief groups I sent you?”

Daniel sighs again. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Daniel.”

“Hey, this is supposed to help me sleep, right? Talking about those grief groups doesn’t make me calm. I’ll be all agitated and then I’ll never sleep.”

Betty is fully aware she’s being played. But she can’t really argue against that. She rolls her eyes again, even if he can’t see her. “Fine,” she gives in. “Do you want to hear about Hilda’s fight with Angelica from two blocks over?”

“Is she the one who told people Hilda’s haircuts aren’t worth how much she charges?” There’s some rustling. Betty assumes it’s the sound of Daniel lying down. He better be.

“Good memory,” she praises. “This is kind of a long story, though,” she warns.

“Hit me,” he says.

It requires a bit of backstory, because there were a lot of altercations she hadn’t told him about. He makes little noises every so often to show he’s still listening. Betty tries not to yawn too much, but her eyelids are starting to droop by the time she finishes the story.

“Wow,” Daniel says. “That’s crazy.”

He’s definitely falling asleep. He may have gotten better at pretending to be listening when Betty tells him things, but he’s never been good at hiding that he’s falling asleep.

Betty yawns, trying not to be too loud about it. “Mmhmm,” she agrees. “And now Justin has to hide on the bus home because Angelica’s daughter keeps bugging him.”

“That’s not good,” Daniel says, voice slow and scratchy.

“Hmm,” Betty says, eyes drifting shut for a second. She’ll just open them right back up. She will. She…

Okay, so she fell asleep on the phone. Hopefully they fell asleep on the phone, but she can’t ask when she wakes up in the morning because her phone is completely dead. Luckily she still uses her backup alarm clock. She plugs in her phone while she showers and eats breakfast.

“Who were you talking to all night?” Hilda asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Just Daniel,” Betty says, waving a hand dismissively.

“You talked to Daniel all night?” Ignacio asks. “He’s so needy.”

“No, we fell asleep. Well, I did. I hope he did.” Everyone’s got their eyebrows raised at her. “What?” she asks. “He’s been having a hard time sleeping since Molly died because he’s not used to sleeping alone. I just thought it’d help him sleep if he didn’t feel like it was so quiet and lonely.”

Everyone’s eyebrows go down as they contemplate how sad that is. Good. Betty doesn’t need judgment. She needs caffeine.

“You tell Daniel if he needs anything, he can call me,” Ignacio tells her, putting more eggs on her plate.

“I will,” Betty promises, smiling at her father. She doubts Daniel will take him up on that offer, because he’s always afraid of being annoying—to other people; somehow he doesn’t mind calling Betty fourteen times in three hours to get opinions on different hairstyles—but the offer itself will mean a lot to Daniel. He didn’t exactly have a great relationship with his own father, and Betty’s noticed he eats up father-figure attention.

It sort of becomes a thing. It’s not necessarily something they plan out in advance or anything like that. Daniel mentions at work he’d managed to sleep, and he looks better, more well-rested. So every few days or so, Betty will give him a call as she’s getting ready for bed. They’ll chat as she brushes her teeth and then she’ll slide into bed hearing about Daniel’s skype call with DJ and Alexis.

It doesn’t happen every night. But there’s one night when Betty doesn’t call and Daniel calls her instead. She doesn’t even think anything’s weird with that. It’s become normal and routine.

But then Daniel joins the Community. And suddenly he’s sleeping just fine. Or maybe he’s talking to someone else. Betty calls him one night after that awful pitch meeting where he let Bennett call the shots and Daniel doesn’t answer.

“Hey, Daniel,” Betty says to his voicemail. “Just, um…I don’t know. I was just calling. You know, to talk. I guess you’re busy. I’ll talk to you later.”

He doesn’t call her back, and he doesn’t mention it the next day at work. They hardly talk for weeks. Now Betty’s the one awake at night, staring at the ceiling. She’s worried about him. Letting Bennett weigh-in at the pitch meeting was bad enough, but Mrs. Meade said he isn’t talking to her, either. It’s really weird. He’s always whispering and giggling with Natalie.

And then everything gets so much worse, and the level seven thing happens. Betty and Mrs. Meade stay with Daniel that first night, both afraid he’s going to die in his sleep from all those drugs since he refused to go to the doctor. But he’s fine. And he sleeps fine.

Alright, Betty thinks. He probably doesn’t need me calling him at night anymore.

The night after she helps him pack up Molly’s things, though, her phone rings as she’s pulling back her duvet.

“Hey,” she answers. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Are you feeling alright?”

“Betty, I’m fine,” he assures her. “It’s just…” He blows out a breath. “It kind of feels like I lost Molly all over again.”

“Oh, Daniel,” she breathes.

“I mean, it’s better. I said goodbye. Well…sort of.” He sounds sheepish. “But, um. I don’t know, it’s just…”

“Too quiet?” Betty guesses.

“Yeah.” After a beat, he says in a rush, “Betty, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be bugging you. You’ve already had to do too much—”

“Stop,” she cuts him off. “First off, you’re not bugging me. Second, I don’t have to do anything. You’re my friend and I want to help you.”

“But—”

“If the shoe were on the other foot, I know you’d be there for me,” she tells him simply.

“Well…yeah,” he says. “I’d try, anyway, but you’re stronger than I am.”

“Daniel, none of this is about you being strong,” she scolds gently. “They prey on people when they’re at their most vulnerable. They’re vultures.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I wish I could’ve gotten Natalie to leave Bennett. I hope he doesn’t hurt her.”

“I think she’s too useful for him to hurt her,” Betty points out ruefully.

“That’s depressing.” Daniel sighs. “Okay, let’s talk about something else. Are you going to try to get in the Bahamas issue so you can come with us?”

Betty snorts. “Well, sure, I’ll try,” she says. “But Wilhelmina’s being even pickier with everything since it’s her last issue.”

“Isn’t that the best news ever?” Daniel sighs dreamily. “Wilhelmina’s leaving Mode.”

Betty laughs at him. “Pinch yourself and make sure it isn’t a dream.”

“God, don’t joke,” Daniel says. “I wouldn’t be able to take it if it didn’t happen. I’m in a very fragile state right now, you know.”

“When are you not?” Betty teases.

“Hey,” he laughs. “Jeez. Remember when you used to do everything I asked and called me sir because you were afraid of me?”

“No,” Betty lies. “I think you might be making that up.”

He laughs again. “You know, I could get you to the Bahamas,” he offers. “I mean, I might have to reinstate you as my assistant for the trip, but I promise I wouldn’t ask for much.”

“No,” Betty says firmly. “Thank you, but if I don’t earn my spot myself, I don’t want to go at all.”

Daniel scoffs. “You’re too proud.”

“Besides, things are weird with Matt. And I think he and Amanda might be…” Betty sighs. “Anyway.”

“No way,” Daniel says. “Matt and Amanda? I guess he’s definitely her type. Rich with great hair.”

“So you would consider your old spiky hair great?” Betty asks dubiously, remembering his hair when he was with Amanda.

There’s a pause. “Well…I mean, yeah,” Daniel finally admits. It makes Betty laugh out loud. “Betty, why are you laughing?” Daniel demands. It makes her laugh harder.

 

After Betty and Matt get back together, she doesn’t talk with Daniel as much. Besides, he and Amanda are “fun buddies” again. Betty thinks that’s a gross way to phrase it, but whatever. She apparently doesn’t get naming input since she’s not an involved party.

When Matt leaves, Betty doesn’t even hesitate. She doesn’t know where Daniel is or what he’s doing, but damnit, he’s going to talk to her.

“Hey, Betty, what’s up?” he asks, all cheerful now that he’s getting down on the regular.

“Matt left,” she sniffles.

“Oh, no,” he says, instantly downcast for her. “That was tonight?”

“Yeah.” She doesn’t say anything for a minute. “But I got my apartment back, at least.” She looks around at the empty room. Marc and Amanda took most of her furniture.

“Can you afford that?” Daniel asks, concerned.

“Yeah, I make a lot more money now,” she reminds him. “And Papi’s fine, so I don’t have to worry about that.”

“Well, it’s good that you’re going out on your own again,” Daniel says. “You’re making all your dreams happen.”

“Sure, alone,” she shoots back hollowly.

“When you first got that apartment you wanted no romantic entanglements. Right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she says. “Still sucks.”

“I’m sorry,” Daniel tells her earnestly. “You guys were just getting into a good groove again.”

“I can’t even be mad at him,” she laments. “He’s off to do good work for people who need it.”

“You can be mad at him,” Daniel says. “I won’t tell anyone.”

It manages to make her laugh a little. “And he totally flattered me before he left, saying I’m the one who inspired him because of my blog.”

“Well, there you go,” Daniel praises. “Already knocking that out of the park.”

“You’re very upbeat,” Betty says neutrally, hoping she doesn’t sound annoyed. She kind of is annoyed, but she knows it’s just because she’s sad about Matt and taking it out on Daniel.

“A friend taught me to be cheerful and peppy when your friends are down.”

“Hm,” Betty says. “That friend sounds irritating.”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Daniel agrees, making Betty laugh again. “Aha, a laugh!”

“Shut up,” Betty says, but she’s still smiling.

“Do you want me to talk about something else and get your mind off it?” Daniel offers.

“What do you got?” Betty asks. She doesn’t want to hear about his sex with Amanda or the shape of the mole he’s convinced has changed. (It hasn’t. Betty’s been forced to check multiple times.)

“Well, remember how I was afraid Marc was sabotaging me?”

“And I said you were being paranoid because Marc’s a good assistant?”

“That’s not actually what you said,” Daniel reminds her. “But I’ll give you a pass tonight. Anyway, he was scheming for my benefit, not my downfall.”

“Why was he scheming, though?” Betty asks, lying on the floor. “He could’ve just told you what he was doing.”

“That’s what I said!” Daniel says triumphantly. “I got kind of worried I’m not someone you can be straight with.”

“No, he’s just used to Wilhelmina,” Betty points out. “They always had something brewing.”

“He did make me shave my beard,” Daniel says. He’s trying to sound casual about it, but Betty can tell that’s something. “He put gum in it.”

“Ew,” Betty says. “But you know, you didn’t really have to shave it, though. You can get gum out with peanut butter.”

Daniel doesn’t say anything for a minute. “I did not know that.”

“Yeah, you didn’t grow up with an older sister. Though I could kind of see Alexis putting gum in your hair even now.”

“God, I could’ve kept my beard?” Now he really sounds distressed.

“Daniel, what’s the deal with the beard?” Betty asks. “I mean, it didn’t look bad, but it was just a beard. You’re really upset.”

Daniel sighs. “I know this is going to sound stupid, but my beard was sort of…I don’t know, I grew it because I didn’t bother to shave after Molly died, and then it was this way of reminding myself that I wasn’t going to forget her.”

“Daniel,” Betty says gently. “You don’t need your beard to remind you of that. How could you possibly forget her?”

“I know,” he says. “It’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” Betty counters. “It’s grief. Grief doesn’t always make sense.”

“You’re right. Of course you’re right.” Daniel huffs. “You’re always right.”

“Yes, I am,” Betty preens. “So is Marc better than me?”

“Of course not,” Daniel says loyally. “No one ever could be.”

Betty knows it’s a stupid thing to be proud of, but she can’t help it. She snuggles down further against the floor and her one blanket left in the apartment. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart,” Daniel swears.

 

It’s kind of ridiculous to call Daniel the night after Hilda’s wedding. They just spent the whole day together, after all, but Betty can’t help it. She’s feeling emotional after accepting the job in London, not that she’s ready to tell him that.

As soon as she tells him, everything’s going to change. It’s going to be real. And she’s terrified of how he’ll react. He’s going to be hurt. Daniel has trouble with people leaving. It was one thing when she left to be an editor; she was still at Mode, and they had lunch together at least twice a week. London’s on an entirely different continent. Betty remembers the first few weeks after Alexis and DJ left. Daniel was despondent and kind of angry. He tends to feel abandoned.

“Hi,” he answers, a smile clear in his voice. “Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?”

Betty laughs, fluffing her pillow behind her head. “Yeah, seeing you do the chicken dance was just so captivating.”

He groans. “Hilda told me I had to!”

“That’s because Hilda’s evil,” Betty tells him. “I’m surprised you haven’t realized that by now.”

“It was her wedding day,” Daniel says. Betty can picture his shrug. “I couldn’t tell her no.”

Betty’s starting to tear up. Is she really going to leave him? How can she do this? She’ll miss her family, of course, but they’re her family. They’ll always be her family. She’ll always talk to them and visit them and they’ll come visit her.

But she has no guarantee with Daniel. Sure, they’re friends. He might be her best (non-Hilda) friend. But friends drift. There’s no blood tie between them dragging them back to each other. They’ll say they’ll stay in touch. Maybe they will, at first. But then work will get busy. It’ll be tough to find a good time to talk with the time difference. Daniel will start dating someone again. Maybe it’ll get serious. Before she’ll know it, Betty will end up with a wedding invitation and she won’t even know the woman he’s marrying.

She can’t quite hold back her shuddering breath, and of course Daniel picks up on it.

“Betty? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she insists, but it’s making her cry more. Daniel knows her so well. He knows her better than anyone outside her family ever has. He even knows her better than Henry did, in some ways, because he’s seen her through every breakup she’s ever had.

“Betty.” His voice is so gentle. Betty feels like she can’t breathe. “Listen. I know it must feel kind of weird that Hilda’s married now, but you know she’ll always be there for you.”

Oh, God, he’s being so sweet and comforting and he has no idea what’s actually wrong. He has no idea that she’s abandoning him. She’s crying in earnest now, flat-out bawling. But she can’t tell him about London. Certainly not now, not like this. She pretends he’s right.

“Yeah,” she sobs. “It’s just—it’s just that Bobby’s her family now.”

“Hey, you’ll always be her family,” Daniel soothes. “And Bobby’s a great guy, right? Maybe you’re kind of sad he married Hilda instead of you?” Now he’s teasing her because she foolishly told him about her little crush while she was working on the article.

“Shut up,” she scoffs.

“Do you want to hear some stupid things I said with Trista?” Daniel asks, resigned. “Will that make you feel better?”

She’s laughing through her sobs now. “Yes, please.”

“She said when I spilled my drink on her the night we met it was a blessing in the skies. Because it was an outdoor party.”

Betty’s laughing more than crying now, but her nose is still running. She’s getting snot on her pillow. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah. And I took that at face value.”

But that definitely makes Betty cry again. How can she leave him when he’s so terrible at picking women for himself? Sure, he managed to find Molly, but she had to literally fall out of a tree on top of him. What if he ends up with another Trista and Betty’s not there to set him straight?

“Oh, no, my stupidity is making you feel worse,” Daniel laments, and then Betty really can’t breathe because she’s laughing and sobbing at the same time.

“Stop,” she gasps.

“Are you laughing or crying?” he asks, amused.

“Both.”

He makes a considering noise. “I guess I’ll take that,” he says. “Better than just crying.”

“Thank you, Daniel,” Betty says, well aware her voice is too earnest for the conversation they’re having. “You’re so…” She swallows down another sob. “You are a wonderful, caring man. Truly. I know you don’t always believe that, but it’s true.”

“Thanks, Betty.” He sounds touched, but a little wary. She can’t blame him. She’s getting awfully heavy for a little story about an idiom gone wrong.

Betty exhales sharply, swiping at her eyes. “Sorry for getting all emotional and weird,” she says, clearing her throat and forcing herself to sound as normal as possible. “It’s been an emotional day.”

“And you had champagne,” he adds. “That always makes you emotional.”

Betty bites her lip, hard, and focuses on the physical pain instead of the way her chest feels like it’s caving in. “You’re right,” she tells him. “You know me so well.”

“Yeah, I do,” he says happily. He’s so proud of himself. “I know everything about you.”

 

After Daniel signs Betty’s contract release, they don’t talk. At all. He runs away from her, he hides, he leaves work. When she does see him in the building, he won’t even look at her. She expected him to be upset, but she didn’t think it would be like this. Now they’re not even going to stay in touch at first. They just won’t even be friends at all.

She leaves voicemail after voicemail. He won’t pick up. Her going-away party is almost over, and he isn’t here. He hasn’t showed up. She’s going to leave Mode without saying goodbye to the person who means the most to her here. Betty goes into Daniel’s office and looks around. Everything is so familiar. She can’t believe this is the last time she’ll ever see it. She helped unpack some of this stuff.

She moves around the room, touching things: the horrifically ugly paperweight that was supposed to be a vase that he made in a very short-lived pottery class after he got away from the Community; a picture of him with DJ in matching Coney Island t-shirts and milkshake mustaches; an actual vase that he bought for an exorbitant amount of money when he still threw money around like it meant nothing; his parents’ wedding picture; the World’s Best Boss mug Betty bought him the first month she worked for him, before she even really knew him but she promised just a month ago still held true; the weird fish statue Alexis got him because it’s an inside joke from when they were kids; a framed copy of the Mode cover they pulled together after Bradford’s funeral.

Betty stares out the window at the city, holding her shoes in her hand. She’s stood in this exact spot so many times. Working late, waiting for Daniel to decide which cover photo looked best. Half-listening to Daniel on the phone with some hookup so she’d know when to take the phone and pretend he’d been called away. Waiting for him when she was disappointed in him and springing a trap.

She hits the call button. It goes to voicemail, of course. “Hi,” she says, breath hitching. “This is the last one, I promise. I’m sorry I kept it from you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself and you found out in that email. I’m sorry—I’m sorry I’m going.” She presses her hand to her mouth, trying to get some of her composure back. “I’m sorry you feel like I’m abandoning you. But I have to go, Daniel. You told me once you knew I wasn’t going to stay forever. I’m making my dreams happen. I kind of thought…I thought you’d be the one who understood. You always understand me.” She sighs shakily. “I’m sorry I hurt you. And I’m sorry you didn’t come say goodbye. I’m really sad about that. And I know you’re mad at me, but I think you’re going to be sad about that, too. I’m sitting here in your office and I’m looking at the city lights. I’m going to miss your office, Daniel. I’m going to miss Mode. And I’m going to miss you so, so much.”

She pauses. She doesn’t know what she thinks she’s waiting for. This isn’t an old-school answering machine, where he can hear the message as she’s leaving it and come running in to say goodbye. And anyway, this isn’t a movie. He wouldn’t do that even if he could hear the message. Mrs. Meade can say whatever she wants, but Betty doesn’t believe Daniel could ever feel that way for her. It’s only right this minute, thinking about that, that Betty realizes she wishes he could.

“Okay,” she finally whispers. “Well. I’m just really sorry about a lot of things. And I wish you were here. And, um.” She blows out a breath. “I believe in you, Daniel. I know you’re smarter than you give yourself credit for and you grew so much in this job. I’m proud of you. I hope someday I’ll make you proud of me, too.” She swallows hard and squeezes her eyes shut. “Goodbye, Daniel.”

He doesn’t call back. For the next day, she keeps her phone on her at all times, always charged and the ringer always on full volume. He never calls.

So Betty says goodbye to her family, and she gets on the plane.

 

Betty’s flat is even smaller than her apartment in Manhattan had been. It’s tiny and crowded and for some reason the building laundry room has washing machines but no dryers. The air smells different here. She can’t describe the difference, but it’s there.

It’s wildly exciting, being here all on her own, navigating the Underground and finding which restaurants she likes best. She takes pictures of herself exploring the streets, settling into her new office, wearing her hair in a ponytail out and about even though she told Hilda she wouldn’t because it makes her look like a man. She hangs a picture of her family on the wall in her flat and smiles, happy with this new life she’s carving out for herself.

It’s wildly lonely, being here all on her own, everyone she knows and loves so far away and in a vastly different time zone. She gets lost on the Underground and a man shouts at her for taking up too much space with her bag. She finally makes it home and sits on the floor of her flat because she doesn’t have a couch and she cries and cries.

She wants to call Daniel. This is the kind of thing she could tell him. Her family would worry, and they’d all think about how this was too big of a move for timid little Betty. They love her, and they’re excited for her, and they’re proud of her, but there’s some part of them that’s always going to think of her as the scared, nervous girl who drew up a fire escape plan for the house when she was twelve.

Daniel would listen to her fears and her worries and he’d remind her of all the times she threw caution to the wind at Mode. He’d make her laugh and he’d tell her she could do this. He’d probably offer to send a private jet to bring her home for a weekend to make her feel better.

She cries some more because it’s been two weeks and she hasn’t talked to Daniel at all. This is the longest she’s gone without talking to him in the entire four years she’s known him, and it’s leaving a weird empty space in her chest and the pit of her stomach. She’s been trying hard not to think about how much she misses him. She’s been trying hard not to think about those new feelings she realized she might be having. She didn’t tell anyone about those feelings, not even Hilda. She thought if she kept it a secret she could keep it from being real.

That hasn’t worked very well.

But Betty gets up off the ground. She takes off her glasses so she can wipe her tears away. Daniel thinks Betty can do anything. He’s told her that more than once. She remembers one of their phone calls, she was falling asleep just as she heard him say,

“You know, Betty, you amaze me. Really. Like—you know that emotion-a-day calendar you got me? I was a few weeks behind so I was ripping them off and I saw awe and it really made me think of you…”

She puts her glasses back on. She looks at the picture of the two of them she has on her phone. Maybe that’s kind of pathetic, but it’s a perfectly normal picture to have. It’s from Hilda’s wedding, when they were dancing. She looks at them laughing together and she squares her shoulders. She can do this. She might have let him down by coming here, but she’s not going to let him down by failing here.

 

Daniel comes to London. She supposes that makes up for him not calling her back. Betty’s stomach is full of butterflies, but her chest feels like that piece that was missing just slipped back into place. She doesn’t want to read too much into this, get too far ahead of herself. She knows that’s been her downfall before.

They go to dinner, and they catch up, and they laugh. With Daniel at her side as she strides through the station, Betty can’t remember why on Earth she ever thought the Tube was scary.

“Wow,” he says, wholly impressed. “You know exactly where you’re going, huh?”

Later, she’ll tell him all about getting lost a million times and the day she walked up and down the stairs of the Aldgate East station four times because she couldn’t figure out which way the trains were going and which platform she needed to be on and she’ll show him how to sneakily check the signs to figure out if it’s the right train without anyone noticing your confusion. For now, she’s basking in the admiration in his voice and lets him believe she’s totally capable and in control.

Betty’s not even very surprised when his name flashes on her phone after she gets home. She’s already brushed her teeth and is in her pajamas. She can’t hold back the smile that takes over her face as she answers.

“Couldn’t get enough of me, huh?” she asks, hoping he remembers saying that to her. He rewards her with a soft laugh.

“No,” he says. “I couldn’t.”

Her stomach is doing backflips. “Oh,” she breathes. That was a lot more forward than she was expecting. Not that she knows what to expect here.

“Is that okay?” he asks nervously. There’s a part of her that can’t believe this at all, that is absolutely shocked that Daniel Meade is nervous about her. On the other hand, he hasn’t been Daniel Meade, rich socialite who could charm anyone into his bed, for years. This is just Daniel, her very best friend, who is worried he’s moving too fast for her.

Betty unsticks her throat and says, “Yes. That’s very okay with me.”

“Good,” he says. She can tell he’s smiling, but he sounds almost shy. These feelings are new territory for them. They’ve never been here before.

But talking before bed—this is not new territory. This is the most natural place in the world. Betty climbs into bed, resolutely not noticing for the first time that it’s a bit small and two people may not fit terribly comfortably if one happens to be a fair bit larger than the other, and settles into her pillow.

“Okay,” she says. “Tell me what your mom said when you told her you were coming to London.”

Daniel laughs. “Oh, God, she was not surprised at all. I’m just lucky she didn’t say I told you so. I mean, of course she knew before I did. That’s what moms do, right?”

They fall asleep together on the phone again, just like they’ve done a hundred times before. Betty’s managing her expectations. They’re going slow—not cautious, necessarily, but deliberate. They’re taking their time. But Betty doesn’t think she’s jumping the gun when she thinks, just to herself, a thought she’s not ready to share just yet but thinks she probably will, in the not-so-distant future: it’s good that she’s used to falling asleep to his voice, because she plans to be doing that for a long, long time.

Notes:

Listen the Aldgate East station only has two platforms but maybe people (not saying me!!!!!) can still get confused because they're bad at cardinal directions and then they have to walk up the stairs to get off one platform and then down the stairs to get to the other platform but then they realize they really do need the other platform so they go up and down the stairs again and maybe they repeat that a few times and they're not even drunk, they're just so bad at directions.
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