Third installment! I tried to take my time with this one, I hope you all like my depiction of Detty's first time...

"So are you two like… together?" Hilda's suggestive tone, even over Skype, makes me wrinkle my nose.

"Well, I mean we haven't really talked about it. But…yeah." I try to keep myself from smiling, but she sees right through me.

"Well finally!" She throws her hands in the air, flicking her webcam.

"Hey!" I flick back, "don't say finally like that, like it was so obvious." I push up my glasses.

"Baby, it was obvious. The way he was looking at you at my wedding, mmm, that boy has it bad—"

"Okay, alright, enough. I'm tired and I'm going to bed, I love you." I wave, reaching for the mouse.

"Wait! Have you two—"

"Goodnight Hilda!" I quickly press the 'end call' button, cutting off her question before I would be forced to answer. Closing my laptop that is perched on my coffee table; Frasier playing muted on the TV.

My wine glass is empty and my feet hurt from the heels I haven't bothered to take off yet. I reach for my feet, pushing the first shoe off, letting it bounce off the arm of the couch before making a 'thump' on the floor.

Stretching for the other one, there's a knock on the door, making me jump, the remote falling to the rug.

I check my watch, it's nearly midnight. I frown, remembering the horror stories Papi's told me about abductees in foreign countries when he was trying to get me to stay.

I stand up on my shoeless foot, hopping as quietly as possible to the kitchen, snatching the meat-tenderizer from the counter, and cautiously hopping to the door. I reach a careful hand out and turn the nob slowly…

"Betty," Daniel's expression is a mix of shock and amusement.

"Daniel!" I lower my weapon of choice, placing my shoe'd foot back down, my heart returning to its regular pace. "What are you doing here?" I look him up and down. He's wearing a suit that hangs off of him as if each thread was made for him, a silver tie in place loosely around his neck.

"You're looking very dapper, what's the occasion?" I push my foot out of my shoe and kick it to the side.

He shrugs, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "I might have had a job interview today." He leans against my doorframe, unable to keep the smile from his face any longer.

"What?" I grab hold of the door, my heart skipping, "You did!?" okay, I'm yelling now.

He laughs, nodding.

"What happened? Where was the interview? What happened?"

"Well," He stands up straighter, his shoulders back, looking like the happy and confident man I'm used to seeing. "You're looking at the new senior editor for London Solo."

"OhmygoshDanielI'msohappyforyou!" I'm jumping up and down now, pulling him inside the apartment.

He laughs a carefree laugh, letting me pull him into a hug. My bare feet feel cool on the hardwood floor as we stand in the middle of my apartment, holding each other, losing track of time.

"We need to celebrate." I say, finally pulling away from his comfortable embrace. "Drinks."

"Agreed," He nods, then looks at my pajamas and the nest or blankets and popcorn I've made on the couch. "Do you think your bunny slippers will want to join us?"

I swat his arm, pulling my hair out of its ponytail, fluffing it dramatically. "Give me four minutes." I walk backwards towards the bedroom, "Seven tops."


"Is it always like that?" I cling to Daniel's arm in the cool breeze, tucking my face into my scarf.

"Not here. It was only a few days ago when the press even realized I was nowhere to be found in New York. I tried not to take it too personally." I roll my eyes, "I guess news got out about Solo."

"Will those pictures be printed?" My voice is a little too high pitched to be considered casual. I've never really been the face of the newest gossip, except maybe if I'm making a fool of myself. For some reason the thought of being photographed at an intimate English pub, on a date with Daniel Meade makes me more nervous than when the story of me driving a motorcycle into a vat of Jello hit headlines.

"It's hard to say, they kind of do what they want." He sounds so blasé about publicising our relationship to the world, that it fills me with a strange sort of happiness. I tighten my grip on his arm, resting my head on his shoulder as we walk down the quiet London street.

"Here we are," Daniel pulls his keys out of his coat pocket, turning towards an upper class looking set of apartment buildings.

"Very nice."

"Thank you." Unlocking the front door, we walk passed the staircase, going straight to a door near the back of the beautiful entrance, unlocking it with a similar looking key.

"Daniel this is…" I don't have any words for the apartment in front of me. I step into the warm looking, inviting space. It smells like pine and fresh air. It's open and charming and expensive looking.

He drops his eyes on the floor next to the door, walking over to the window and closing it, he rubs his hands together.

"Cold?" He shrugs out of his long black jacket, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck.

"Not so much," I shake my head, shivering anyway.

He gestures for me to come in further into the apartment, and we somehow meet somewhere in the middle. He still looks so formal, so professional a put together. It feels so out of place in this context.

"Here, just let me," I reach up, loosening his tie from around his neck and unbuttoning the top button of his crisp white shirt. "There, now you're…" He lifts his hand to mine, catching it there as I go to pull back, holding my hand at his collar, the blue in his eyes turning to liquid, effectively silencing my sentence.

His thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of my hand, I draw in a breath and blink too much.

"It's a.." My voice is hardly a whisper, I clear my throat, "great tie."



This kiss is different than our first. His mouth is soft against mine, but there's yielded passion kept at bay. My hand, still in his, is guided around his neck as he holds it there, his other finding my waist.

I've kissed guys before, yet somehow kissing him, it's as if I've forgotten how. My mind is a jumble, a foggy memory of me practicing kissing on my hand comes to mind. Little did I know, back then, what Daniel Meade would be capable of making me feel.

Somehow my hands have found the inside of his jacket as I push it off of his shoulders. His hands leave me only to loosen the tie more, pulling it over his head; making his collar and hair stand up a little funny.

Stepping out of my shoes, he leans down farther as I lose the height, his hands on my neck, easing my mouth open and on his. Goose-bumps lifting across my arms and everywhere else his skin touches mine.

The buttons on his shirt are small and finicky, ridiculously so.

"This is impossible."

"Just, let me—be patient!" he swats my fingers away.

"Are you kidding me right now?"

"Shhh," He returns his mouth to mine, kissing me deeper than before, effectively shutting me up, his hands on my waist guiding me backwards a few steps. My hands help as he tries to shred his shirt at last.

"What is happening here?" I'm laughing against his lips as he seems to be struggling.

"Damn cuff links."

I throw my head back, giggling, his shirt caught around his wrists.

"You get this one," He points with his chin at his right wrist, as he works on his left.

We stand in his living room, the two of us panting, fumbling with the tedious task of the small cuff links pushed through the button holes of his nice shirt. Both of us chuckling at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Going from friends to this is definitely an adjustment.

Daniel drops his link on the flood, freeing himself from his sleeve as I'm finally able to remove the second.

"You're going to lose these," I make a half-hearted attempt to scan the floor for its match, but his nakedness is distracting and he's quickly able to bring my attention back to other, more important things.

In the bedroom, standing next to his bed he finds the zipper to my dress, and my heart falls out of place. In an instant my insecurities wash over me like a wave, taking me through reality, and right into this moment. I interlace my fingers with his, diverting his attention from the removal of my clothing.

The image of Daniel with his lineup of size zero model girlfriends trapeses through my mind uninvited.

After the second disruption of my zipper, he pulls back, looking down at me, curiosity swimming there.

"Do you want to slow down?" Our breathing is rapid, his eyes are wild; his words don't match his passionate expression; although when I don't answer right away his eyes begin to edge with concern.

"No, no I don't," I shake my head, lifting up onto my toes so I can reach his lips. He lets me, an edge of caution in his kiss.

And when I let him shed me of my dress. His hands skimming my sides as he lifts it over my head. My glasses go crooked on my face as he smiles, fixing them for me. He lets my dress fall to the ground beside us as he guides me onto the bed with him; I try to leave my insecurities with it. There on the floor.

"This is a ridiculously comfortable bed." I say against his lips, his bare skin is warm against mine as he hovers above me.

His quiet laughter makes me relax even more, his smiling lips brushing the skin below my ear.

"Are you nervous?" his words are filled with amusement and honest curiosity.

"What? Huuh, no, what're you even," I shake my head, shoving his shoulder light, he laughs again, "Shut up." I knit my fingers into his hair, silencing his teasing with my lips.

It's the most intimate, and personal thing in the world. Baring your whole self to someone. Allowing them access to the innermost parts of your being. I know almost everything there is to know about this man with me now, and I have been more honest with him then I have with anyone. But in this night, this moment, we have to start from scratch.

It's like a re-discovery of someone's soul. Figuring out what it is they like and don't like, making mistakes and making wonderful happenings. Laughing through the uneasy and clumsy moments, and losing ourselves in the euphoric ones.

Falling separately but together, completely tangled up in the right here right now of making love.

Hours later, my eyes drifting open and closed, the early morning light peeking in; Daniel's head resting against my stomach, our breathing matched in its exhaustion and contentment. My sleepy fingers play with his hair, my own thrown across the pillow in disarray.

I tug lightly on his hair, his head turning a little with it, I receive a sexy, sleepy groan.

Turning his head, he rests his chin near my hip, looking up at me through his lashes, his eyelids heavy. His fingers play with mine, I watch him carefully.

"God you're beautiful." His words are slurred with fatigue. I blink at him, pulling my lips into a smile.

"Thanks." I answer simply.

And after a moment, his eyebrows pull together.

"No," he shakes his head a little, clumsily propping himself up on his elbow, he scoots himself farther up so he can better look into my eyes. "No Betty, listen to me." He seems troubled in his groggy state, his eyes hardly visible in the dim lighting. I can feel him looking inside me. "You, are so beautiful."

My heart aches dully in my chest, my fingers go limp in his hair, my eyes focus and refocus on his face, the sincerity that rests there is staggering. Moving my hand from his hair, I trace his lips with my fingertips.

"Thank you." It's hardly a whisper, but I know he heard me. After a moment, his neck relaxes, his forehead resting against my ribs he plants a kiss on my waist. I shiver from the gesture, my entire body reacting to this small action.

After several minutes, he reaches down to the foot of the bed, where most of the quilt has ended up on the floor, and pulls it up and around us. Cocooning us in the warmth of each other and the bliss that hangs over us as we drift off.

Review? Thanks guys :)