The Fishbowl Vignettes: Private Property (Daniel/Betty, PG-13)
Remember these? Just filling something in the middle to give background and putting on a proper ending. Read, enjoy, and if you have the hankering, review.
The Fishbowl Vignettes: Private Property
Author: Samantha samirant
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Ugly Betty
Pairing: Daniel/Betty
Summary/Author's Note: These will be a series of vignettes covering different portions of Betty and Daniel's friendship whatever it is.
Disclaimer: Jumping around in someone else's playground.
Timeline: The Grown Up Table --> Double Singles --> Prelude --> Get A Clue --> Common Knowledge
--> Private Property --> Reasoning
The Fishbowl Vignettes: Private Property
Daniel fell against the floor with a grateful groan. Above him, Betty chuckled at his dramatizing and nudged a pillow toward him with the toe of paint-speckled sneaker. Fighting with it briefly, Daniel tucked it under his cheek and let out a huge breath of air.
"Feel better now?"
"The fumes should be weaker down here."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're thinking of cooler air during a fire."
"Well, if you light a match and this whole place goes up in flames, at least I'm in the best possible spot."
She chuckled at him again and Daniel responded by glaring with the one eye that peeped over the pillow. He saw her turn back toward the wall, considering it for a brief second before running the roller over one spot and then another. Smiling to himself now, he closed his eyes contentedly. False domesticity or not, he was going to let himself enjoy it as long as possible.
He stayed still as Betty worked around him, protective plastic crackling underfoot. He knew very well that each wall was done and it was only Betty's perfectionism that made her tweak the lampshade in alternating directions and in spots color the accent wall a deeper plum. Plum, not purple, he thought amusedly, she'd taken great offense when he'd said it the wrong way before. That was a first.
This was probably the part where the old Daniel would have whined about Betty's insistence on painting her own loft instead of hiring a decorator like any other rising star at Meade Publications. His hands and arms were dashed and dotted with plum paint, his favorite Armani t-shirt now thoroughly ruined. He was pretty sure his hair was streaked with it as well. The new Daniel only lay on the floor and wondered what it would be like if it were their wall they were painting, their pillow he was burrowed in, his Betty that was taking the advertising world by storm.
"I… think that should be it." He looked up to see Betty put her hands on her hips and stare up at the wall.
"I think that was it about an hour ago." OK, so a little bit of the old Daniel remained.
Betty scrunched her nose at him and moved out of sight. The sound of running water followed, the clinking of plastic and foam and Betty's happy sigh filled his ears. In response, Daniel stood and began gathering up the plastic, making sure to avoid any wet spots that would cling to his newly dry clothes. Even though he was careful, he made sure to check himself over before reclaiming the pillow. Beside it, only a lamp stood in the room, the only things Betty had allowed in her new loft before all the painting was done. Rolling over on his stomach, Daniel looked at the windows before him.
The skyline outside the windows wasn't much to look at, but as Betty said, it was better than the brick wall she used to open her window to. It showed a nice expanse of dark sky, at least; the sun had set over two hours ago, long after they'd started their project, and if he leaned his head a little to the side Daniel could see a part of the waning moon.
The moon, the spread of windows, plum paint in his hair and a happy Betty. There wasn't much more Daniel could ask for, he thought in what he considered a very reasonable way. It was reasonable to be happy for a friend who was moving up in her chosen career, setting off on her own, achieving the goals she'd set for herself. Little things like being in love with said friend shouldn't get in the way of things, or at least that's what he'd been telling himself for the last couple of months.
He jumped a little when Betty dropped like a sack of flour next to him and set the back of her neck against the curve of his back. It was just like her to find what had to be the most neutral part of his body, far enough so he could still turn to see her, but not so far that her head was in the lowest point and near… other things.
"I'm sooo tired," she moaned.
Daniel was also grateful that he was still on his stomach.
"What do you say? We have a whole new set of restaurants that we can judge based on best take out and delivery times."
"Eh, I think I still need to let my stomach settle. From the smell, you know," Daniel replied lamely.
Betty twitched her mouth and nose cutely. "Yeah, I guess. Are you going to give up the pillow?"
"Not a chance."
"Fine, be that way. Good luck trying to get up."
As if he'd even try. "I'd buck you off in two seconds flat."
"Ha, as if you knew how to buck-"
She stopped short, as if only realizing her words and in the split second after, both of them started snorting with laughter.
"That is not what I meant to say," Betty said when she recovered her breath.
"Right, right," Daniel wiped at his eye where a tear of laughter had formed. Almost nothing cracked him up as much as when Betty was inadvertently dirty-minded. Despite his feelings for her, and the pleasant thoughts (though generally forbidden, but try convincing his brain of that) that came with them, it still left him feeling strangely awkward. The sensation could at best be connected to when he hit his first big growth spurt at fourteen, the way he had all new lengths of arms and legs and couldn't quite figure out how to function with them without tripping all over the place.
Any other bizarre thoughts of likening Betty to, well, puberty, where halted when the door buzzer rang. Betty lifted up on her elbows and they looked at the door, each other and then back.
"Did you order pad thai with your mind?" Daniel skeptically.
"Please, if I could do that, I'd totally get dumplings," Betty said back before scrambling up. At the door, she pressed the button to respond to her doorman's call.
"There's a delivery here for you, Miss Suarez," said the cultured voice that came back over the intercom.
"Um, okay?" Betty sent another confused look at him over her shoulder. "Should I go down?"
"No, I'll send them up." The voice was unabashedly amused. Daniel guessed he probably didn't realize he was now in contact with a Queens girl who was used to doing her own pushing and pulling and heaving-
Yeah, his mind was in the gutter tonight. Daniel forcefully cleared his throat as Betty walked back to him, her hands tugging at the ends of her hair. "I wonder what that's about. Nothing's supposed to get here for a couple of days. Should I call the moving company?"
"Let's just see what it is," Daniel replied. But he paused as he considered the date and then ran a hand through his paint-streaked hair. "Though, I might have an idea."
Betty leveled a suspicious glance his way. She couldn't ask anything, though, before a knock on the door came. The sight of the rectangle wrapped in brown paper and twine confirmed his guess and Daniel sighed as Betty signed for it. Looking past her at the delivery guy, he said, "You're two days early."
"You wanted it delivered after nine, it had to be during the week," the man said back irritably, his tone indicating that Daniel was lucky to be receiving a delivery at all. God love New York.
He left without a word after Betty gave her last signature and Daniel moved past her to haul up the package and then set it carefully against the only completely dry wall.
"Daniel?"
"Yeah?" Daniel gave the offending package an accusing glare before turning to her. "Well, look, I know you said you didn't want a house warming gift, but, well…"
But Betty was staring at the package with an odd look on her face before she looked back at him and said, "The paper says that its from the Scope Gallery."
"Uh, yeah," Daniel drew out uncomfortably. Maybe he hadn't thought this through enough. Then again, he wasn't supposed to be in the loft when it was delivered in the first place.
"Marianna's gallery."
He sighed again and repeated, "Yeah."
"You…" Betty walked over and started pulling at the twine slowly. He noticed how her hands shook slightly, from what he guessed was anticipation. Moving to help her, they silently removed the twine and then Betty slowly pulled back an available tab and revealed the painting beneath.
She took a quick intake of breath and stared for several seconds before saying, "Daniel, this is too much."
"No, it's not," Daniel said immediately. Of this much he was sure. "You got a big promotion. That means a big gift. Period. End of story."
"But, this…" Betty ran her fingers down the frame in awe. Despite the lack of a true New York skyline out her window, the skyline from the bridge, their bridge, was now before them, nearly detail for detail. "I always loved this."
"I know," Daniel said quietly.
Betty finally looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. "You remembered."
"Come on, you stood and stared at this for half an hour the night of the opening," Daniel said with half a smile. He had to restrain himself from reaching over and touching his thumb under each spread of teary eyelashes. Thankfully, Betty turned back before he could give in, folding her legs into an indian style seat.
"I thought Marianna said the artist didn't want to sell it."
"Well, it took some convincing, but I made him realize that it would go to the only other person who appreciated it as much as he did." A cynic would say that all it took was the check with a healthy sum, but Daniel knew the tide had turned in his favor when he described that night to the artist. The man had given him a sweet, knowing smile and, for once, Daniel hadn't bothered to pretend that the gift was just for a friend. Somewhere out there in the vast expanse of New York, one other person knew how much Daniel loved the woman sitting next to him. It felt nice. It made him feel a little more real.
Betty's sweet expression seemed to freeze with an unspoken thought and he watched her struggle briefly before asking, "Does this mean… I mean, did you see her?"
"Marianna?" Daniel shrugged uncomfortably before saying, "Yeah, but just for a few minutes. She had the contact information."
"How was it." There was an odd, flat note to Betty's voice now, and though her eyes stayed on the painting, Daniel was fairly sure she wasn't looking at it. He couldn't fault her for being on edge, after so many months of declining his ex-fiancée's calls, the dark period following their break up. Somewhere along the way, Betty had moved from quiet support of everyone involved to fierce protection for him alone, never mind that Daniel had never told her why he'd ended it in the first place.
"Not… great," Daniel replied slowly. There wasn't much more to say than that. "But better than I expected."
"Daniel-"
"I'll tell you now, if you want to know."
"You don't have to."
But he wanted to. It would help her understand. It would get that awful tone out of her voice. "I think I do."
Betty simply looked at him. So he told her.
In measured tones, he recounted what had happened over a year before, the story no one knew. On the face of it, the tabloids saw a well-connected couple, Marianna the gallery owner, Daniel the magazine editor, well-matched in pedigree and style. They had photos of a flashy ring (given to him by her father, something he never would have picked, but a family heirloom even he was expected to carry on all the same), and then, suddenly, photos without.
What they hadn't known was how hard Daniel believed himself to have fallen, but how lessons learned in the past had made him take it more slowly. Marianna had been happy to carry a slower pace, too and he'd been thankful for her. They would have kept at it for a long time if only one thing hadn't gotten in the way. Something of the baby variety.
Betty had been aware of this much and nodded slowly, knowing what was coming. At least what she thought she knew. Daniel took a deep breath to ease the resurging ache in his chest and reminded her of the day when he came home to find Marianna crying in the bathroom, a mess in the bed and trailing to the tub where she sat. He'd cried, too, so fiercely that it took him far too long to fully realize what he'd come upon.
Everyone who knew thought it was the loss that tore them apart, their grief that ended the relationship and Daniel had to swallow hard before speaking again. "What I never told anyone was that I was at work a few days later and someone called on Marianna's phone. Do you remember how we thought it'd be funny to get the same cell model?"
Betty nodded. She'd experienced the confusing days when they accidentally switched and she'd been required to run halfway across Manhattan to switch them back. It'd been funny then, but air between them now was tight and brittle.
"I answered it and it was a doctor's office. They were confirming an appointment and it-" Daniel stopped and looked up at the ceiling before saying, "-it wasn't from her regular doctor, the one we'd gone to see on her first appointment. So I looked it up."
He still remembered his shock, the way he'd shut himself in his office for hours, closing the curtains so that no one could see in, so the betrayal wouldn't be on display for everyone's casual appraisal.
"Daniel." He hadn't realized it until now, but his hand was clenched tightly in Betty's. Or was it hers in his?
"I got home and I asked her. She didn't bother to lie, which I guess I have to give her at least a little credit for." Her fingers wrapped in his bolstered him farther. "She was crying because she was relieved, Betty. She said she wasn't ready and things had started going too fast since we'd gotten the news. That losing the baby was a good thing for us."
"So Marianna was going to-"
"She said she hadn't decided yet. A friend of hers had made the appointment and she was waiting until it was closer before deciding. I got her to admit that if she'd gone through with it, she probably wouldn't have told me."
"Oh, Daniel…"
"Needless to say, we were done. I was done. Marianna didn't want to be, but I couldn't stand it. It was too much."
"Of course, of course it was." She pulled her hand from his and then suddenly her cheek was on his shoulder, her arms pulling him closer. Still sitting, she hugged him tightly and Daniel rested his head against hers.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I know it didn't make any sense," Daniel murmured, his voice barely able to work its way out of his dry throat. Betty only shook her head.
They stayed that way a long time. He felt her tears now instead of seeing them, and though his own eyes stung, it was as if he'd done all that he could. Even seeing Marianna hadn't been what he needed to finally let go, apparently. Now, despite all the pain inflicted, Marianna herself was only a footnote. The last step, it seemed, was to tell her. His best friend. The one who left everyone else in the dust. Betty.
And even after they separated, when Betty returned her hand to his, they both sat and looked at the painting for a long time. And even though it was his gift to her, Daniel knew without a doubt, they would both always consider it theirs.
**********
A/N: As always, reviews are gold. Thanks.
The Fishbowl Vignettes: Private Property
Author: Samantha samirant
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Ugly Betty
Pairing: Daniel/Betty
Summary/Author's Note: These will be a series of vignettes covering different portions of Betty and Daniel's friendship whatever it is.
Disclaimer: Jumping around in someone else's playground.
Timeline: The Grown Up Table --> Double Singles --> Prelude --> Get A Clue --> Common Knowledge
--> Private Property --> Reasoning
The Fishbowl Vignettes: Private Property
Daniel fell against the floor with a grateful groan. Above him, Betty chuckled at his dramatizing and nudged a pillow toward him with the toe of paint-speckled sneaker. Fighting with it briefly, Daniel tucked it under his cheek and let out a huge breath of air.
"Feel better now?"
"The fumes should be weaker down here."
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're thinking of cooler air during a fire."
"Well, if you light a match and this whole place goes up in flames, at least I'm in the best possible spot."
She chuckled at him again and Daniel responded by glaring with the one eye that peeped over the pillow. He saw her turn back toward the wall, considering it for a brief second before running the roller over one spot and then another. Smiling to himself now, he closed his eyes contentedly. False domesticity or not, he was going to let himself enjoy it as long as possible.
He stayed still as Betty worked around him, protective plastic crackling underfoot. He knew very well that each wall was done and it was only Betty's perfectionism that made her tweak the lampshade in alternating directions and in spots color the accent wall a deeper plum. Plum, not purple, he thought amusedly, she'd taken great offense when he'd said it the wrong way before. That was a first.
This was probably the part where the old Daniel would have whined about Betty's insistence on painting her own loft instead of hiring a decorator like any other rising star at Meade Publications. His hands and arms were dashed and dotted with plum paint, his favorite Armani t-shirt now thoroughly ruined. He was pretty sure his hair was streaked with it as well. The new Daniel only lay on the floor and wondered what it would be like if it were their wall they were painting, their pillow he was burrowed in, his Betty that was taking the advertising world by storm.
"I… think that should be it." He looked up to see Betty put her hands on her hips and stare up at the wall.
"I think that was it about an hour ago." OK, so a little bit of the old Daniel remained.
Betty scrunched her nose at him and moved out of sight. The sound of running water followed, the clinking of plastic and foam and Betty's happy sigh filled his ears. In response, Daniel stood and began gathering up the plastic, making sure to avoid any wet spots that would cling to his newly dry clothes. Even though he was careful, he made sure to check himself over before reclaiming the pillow. Beside it, only a lamp stood in the room, the only things Betty had allowed in her new loft before all the painting was done. Rolling over on his stomach, Daniel looked at the windows before him.
The skyline outside the windows wasn't much to look at, but as Betty said, it was better than the brick wall she used to open her window to. It showed a nice expanse of dark sky, at least; the sun had set over two hours ago, long after they'd started their project, and if he leaned his head a little to the side Daniel could see a part of the waning moon.
The moon, the spread of windows, plum paint in his hair and a happy Betty. There wasn't much more Daniel could ask for, he thought in what he considered a very reasonable way. It was reasonable to be happy for a friend who was moving up in her chosen career, setting off on her own, achieving the goals she'd set for herself. Little things like being in love with said friend shouldn't get in the way of things, or at least that's what he'd been telling himself for the last couple of months.
He jumped a little when Betty dropped like a sack of flour next to him and set the back of her neck against the curve of his back. It was just like her to find what had to be the most neutral part of his body, far enough so he could still turn to see her, but not so far that her head was in the lowest point and near… other things.
"I'm sooo tired," she moaned.
Daniel was also grateful that he was still on his stomach.
"What do you say? We have a whole new set of restaurants that we can judge based on best take out and delivery times."
"Eh, I think I still need to let my stomach settle. From the smell, you know," Daniel replied lamely.
Betty twitched her mouth and nose cutely. "Yeah, I guess. Are you going to give up the pillow?"
"Not a chance."
"Fine, be that way. Good luck trying to get up."
As if he'd even try. "I'd buck you off in two seconds flat."
"Ha, as if you knew how to buck-"
She stopped short, as if only realizing her words and in the split second after, both of them started snorting with laughter.
"That is not what I meant to say," Betty said when she recovered her breath.
"Right, right," Daniel wiped at his eye where a tear of laughter had formed. Almost nothing cracked him up as much as when Betty was inadvertently dirty-minded. Despite his feelings for her, and the pleasant thoughts (though generally forbidden, but try convincing his brain of that) that came with them, it still left him feeling strangely awkward. The sensation could at best be connected to when he hit his first big growth spurt at fourteen, the way he had all new lengths of arms and legs and couldn't quite figure out how to function with them without tripping all over the place.
Any other bizarre thoughts of likening Betty to, well, puberty, where halted when the door buzzer rang. Betty lifted up on her elbows and they looked at the door, each other and then back.
"Did you order pad thai with your mind?" Daniel skeptically.
"Please, if I could do that, I'd totally get dumplings," Betty said back before scrambling up. At the door, she pressed the button to respond to her doorman's call.
"There's a delivery here for you, Miss Suarez," said the cultured voice that came back over the intercom.
"Um, okay?" Betty sent another confused look at him over her shoulder. "Should I go down?"
"No, I'll send them up." The voice was unabashedly amused. Daniel guessed he probably didn't realize he was now in contact with a Queens girl who was used to doing her own pushing and pulling and heaving-
Yeah, his mind was in the gutter tonight. Daniel forcefully cleared his throat as Betty walked back to him, her hands tugging at the ends of her hair. "I wonder what that's about. Nothing's supposed to get here for a couple of days. Should I call the moving company?"
"Let's just see what it is," Daniel replied. But he paused as he considered the date and then ran a hand through his paint-streaked hair. "Though, I might have an idea."
Betty leveled a suspicious glance his way. She couldn't ask anything, though, before a knock on the door came. The sight of the rectangle wrapped in brown paper and twine confirmed his guess and Daniel sighed as Betty signed for it. Looking past her at the delivery guy, he said, "You're two days early."
"You wanted it delivered after nine, it had to be during the week," the man said back irritably, his tone indicating that Daniel was lucky to be receiving a delivery at all. God love New York.
He left without a word after Betty gave her last signature and Daniel moved past her to haul up the package and then set it carefully against the only completely dry wall.
"Daniel?"
"Yeah?" Daniel gave the offending package an accusing glare before turning to her. "Well, look, I know you said you didn't want a house warming gift, but, well…"
But Betty was staring at the package with an odd look on her face before she looked back at him and said, "The paper says that its from the Scope Gallery."
"Uh, yeah," Daniel drew out uncomfortably. Maybe he hadn't thought this through enough. Then again, he wasn't supposed to be in the loft when it was delivered in the first place.
"Marianna's gallery."
He sighed again and repeated, "Yeah."
"You…" Betty walked over and started pulling at the twine slowly. He noticed how her hands shook slightly, from what he guessed was anticipation. Moving to help her, they silently removed the twine and then Betty slowly pulled back an available tab and revealed the painting beneath.
She took a quick intake of breath and stared for several seconds before saying, "Daniel, this is too much."
"No, it's not," Daniel said immediately. Of this much he was sure. "You got a big promotion. That means a big gift. Period. End of story."
"But, this…" Betty ran her fingers down the frame in awe. Despite the lack of a true New York skyline out her window, the skyline from the bridge, their bridge, was now before them, nearly detail for detail. "I always loved this."
"I know," Daniel said quietly.
Betty finally looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. "You remembered."
"Come on, you stood and stared at this for half an hour the night of the opening," Daniel said with half a smile. He had to restrain himself from reaching over and touching his thumb under each spread of teary eyelashes. Thankfully, Betty turned back before he could give in, folding her legs into an indian style seat.
"I thought Marianna said the artist didn't want to sell it."
"Well, it took some convincing, but I made him realize that it would go to the only other person who appreciated it as much as he did." A cynic would say that all it took was the check with a healthy sum, but Daniel knew the tide had turned in his favor when he described that night to the artist. The man had given him a sweet, knowing smile and, for once, Daniel hadn't bothered to pretend that the gift was just for a friend. Somewhere out there in the vast expanse of New York, one other person knew how much Daniel loved the woman sitting next to him. It felt nice. It made him feel a little more real.
Betty's sweet expression seemed to freeze with an unspoken thought and he watched her struggle briefly before asking, "Does this mean… I mean, did you see her?"
"Marianna?" Daniel shrugged uncomfortably before saying, "Yeah, but just for a few minutes. She had the contact information."
"How was it." There was an odd, flat note to Betty's voice now, and though her eyes stayed on the painting, Daniel was fairly sure she wasn't looking at it. He couldn't fault her for being on edge, after so many months of declining his ex-fiancée's calls, the dark period following their break up. Somewhere along the way, Betty had moved from quiet support of everyone involved to fierce protection for him alone, never mind that Daniel had never told her why he'd ended it in the first place.
"Not… great," Daniel replied slowly. There wasn't much more to say than that. "But better than I expected."
"Daniel-"
"I'll tell you now, if you want to know."
"You don't have to."
But he wanted to. It would help her understand. It would get that awful tone out of her voice. "I think I do."
Betty simply looked at him. So he told her.
In measured tones, he recounted what had happened over a year before, the story no one knew. On the face of it, the tabloids saw a well-connected couple, Marianna the gallery owner, Daniel the magazine editor, well-matched in pedigree and style. They had photos of a flashy ring (given to him by her father, something he never would have picked, but a family heirloom even he was expected to carry on all the same), and then, suddenly, photos without.
What they hadn't known was how hard Daniel believed himself to have fallen, but how lessons learned in the past had made him take it more slowly. Marianna had been happy to carry a slower pace, too and he'd been thankful for her. They would have kept at it for a long time if only one thing hadn't gotten in the way. Something of the baby variety.
Betty had been aware of this much and nodded slowly, knowing what was coming. At least what she thought she knew. Daniel took a deep breath to ease the resurging ache in his chest and reminded her of the day when he came home to find Marianna crying in the bathroom, a mess in the bed and trailing to the tub where she sat. He'd cried, too, so fiercely that it took him far too long to fully realize what he'd come upon.
Everyone who knew thought it was the loss that tore them apart, their grief that ended the relationship and Daniel had to swallow hard before speaking again. "What I never told anyone was that I was at work a few days later and someone called on Marianna's phone. Do you remember how we thought it'd be funny to get the same cell model?"
Betty nodded. She'd experienced the confusing days when they accidentally switched and she'd been required to run halfway across Manhattan to switch them back. It'd been funny then, but air between them now was tight and brittle.
"I answered it and it was a doctor's office. They were confirming an appointment and it-" Daniel stopped and looked up at the ceiling before saying, "-it wasn't from her regular doctor, the one we'd gone to see on her first appointment. So I looked it up."
He still remembered his shock, the way he'd shut himself in his office for hours, closing the curtains so that no one could see in, so the betrayal wouldn't be on display for everyone's casual appraisal.
"Daniel." He hadn't realized it until now, but his hand was clenched tightly in Betty's. Or was it hers in his?
"I got home and I asked her. She didn't bother to lie, which I guess I have to give her at least a little credit for." Her fingers wrapped in his bolstered him farther. "She was crying because she was relieved, Betty. She said she wasn't ready and things had started going too fast since we'd gotten the news. That losing the baby was a good thing for us."
"So Marianna was going to-"
"She said she hadn't decided yet. A friend of hers had made the appointment and she was waiting until it was closer before deciding. I got her to admit that if she'd gone through with it, she probably wouldn't have told me."
"Oh, Daniel…"
"Needless to say, we were done. I was done. Marianna didn't want to be, but I couldn't stand it. It was too much."
"Of course, of course it was." She pulled her hand from his and then suddenly her cheek was on his shoulder, her arms pulling him closer. Still sitting, she hugged him tightly and Daniel rested his head against hers.
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered into his shoulder.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I know it didn't make any sense," Daniel murmured, his voice barely able to work its way out of his dry throat. Betty only shook her head.
They stayed that way a long time. He felt her tears now instead of seeing them, and though his own eyes stung, it was as if he'd done all that he could. Even seeing Marianna hadn't been what he needed to finally let go, apparently. Now, despite all the pain inflicted, Marianna herself was only a footnote. The last step, it seemed, was to tell her. His best friend. The one who left everyone else in the dust. Betty.
And even after they separated, when Betty returned her hand to his, they both sat and looked at the painting for a long time. And even though it was his gift to her, Daniel knew without a doubt, they would both always consider it theirs.
**********
A/N: As always, reviews are gold. Thanks.