This is just a short, fluffy little one shot set after Queen Mary Andrews dragged Archie the rat (I don't like Archie in case you couldn't tell). Anyway, Frary is the cutest couple I've ever witnessed, and I need them back together.
Fred Andrews looked down at the dining room table as his wife(?) stormed out of the room. Their son was staring after her, looking like he'd been slapped in the face. And if he was being honest, Fred could understand. Mary had never gotten so angry at Archie as she had in that moment, and it wasn't something either of them had expected. Fred knew she had a temper, one she'd developed over years of being a kickass lawyer. But never once had that temper come out towards their son in such an uncontrolled way.
"Why does she even care about any of this?" Fred was broken from his musings by Archie's sulking mumble.
"What?" he asked, looking over at the teenage boy he barely recognized anymore.
"Why does she care about any of this?" the boy repeated, pushing his plate away from him. "She lives in Chicago and only comes around maybe once or twice a year. She doesn't give a damn about us normally, so why does she now?" And suddenly Fred could see how Mary's anger had risen so quickly as he stood from the table, throwing his napkin on top of his plate.
"Don't you ever talk about your mother like that again, do you understand me?" he spoke in a voice filled with barely concealed anger.
"Dad-" Archie began in an irritated tone himself.
"No, goddamn it!" The redheaded teen's facial expression changed from annoyance to shock at the curse word that he just came out of his father's mouth. Fred Andrews never cursed, not even when he was angry. "Your mother works her ass off every day in Chicago, and you know where a big portion of her benefits from that work goes? Into the bills for this house. Into the food you eat. Into all the stupid things you think you need even though you know we're tight on money. And you know why those benefits come to this house? Because your mother cares more about you than anything else in the damn world. You mean everything to her, Archie, and just because she's not here doesn't mean she doesn't care. And if I ever hear you talk about her like that again, I'll see to it that all ties of yours are severed with the Lodges forever, even Veronica." Without waiting for a response, Fred turned and stormed out in a similar fashion to Mary, heading up the stairs towards his bedroom.
On a whim, he stopped before he got there, staring at the guest bedroom door and debating with himself for a moment. In the end, he raised his hand and knocked, waiting until he heard a soft "come in" before turning the knob and pushing the door open. All thoughts left his mind when he saw her, sitting on the bed in a simple set of floral print shorts with lace trimming on the hem and a matching floral tank top. There was a book sitting abandoned on the nightstand, but she had put her glasses on top of her head, pushing her hair back from her face and making it even harder for him to take his eyes off of her.
"Fred? Is everything okay?" her voice forced him to pull himself out of the trance he'd fallen into, and he raised his eyes to meet her concerned ones.
"Yeah, everything's fine." he answered, shutting the door and walking over to the bed. He gently nudged her leg, and she took the hint, curling both legs to the side so he could sit next to her. "Are you okay?" She sighed, pulling her glasses off of her head and setting them on top of her book, her red curls falling into her face. He reached out and brushed them back without even thinking twice.
"I don't like him talking about you like that." she said quietly, tilting her head into the touch of his hand. "You've done so much for him. For us. You're so selfless, and he doesn't even appreciate it because he's stuck so far up the Lodges' asses!" He snorted quietly at that, his hand falling to the bed and instinctively entwining with hers.
"It's okay, hotshot." he replied, using the old nickname he'd given her back in college.
"No, it's not. Fred, you've worked so hard and done so much for us, and we're just selfish people. Completely disregarding everything you've done just because we want different things." she shook her head, and he was slightly alarmed to see tears in her brown eyes.
"What are you talking about, Mare? You're not a selfish person, what's going on?" He reached up and gently swiped away some of the tears that were falling, but it seemed like that only made her cry more.
"Yes, I am! I abandoned our family for my damn career! I hate Chicago, I hate it! I just didn't realize it until I came back home with you last year. I gave up our family because I'm selfish, and I didn't appreciate everything we had together." He stared at her in stunned silence for a few minutes, and she cried harder with the thought that he was angry with her. "I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to be sorry for. You did what you thought was going to make you happy, and that's all I ever wanted. For you to be happy." he finally said, reaching out to wipe away her tears once more.
"But I'm not. I feel like something's missing, like a part of me is missing. I don't feel whole, I haven't since I left. I miss Archie and our friends. I miss Riverdale. I miss you." Neither of them was sure who started leaning in first after that declaration, but it took all of twenty seconds for them to end up with their mouths pressed together and her hands to end up in his hair with his on her waist.
"I miss you too." he mumbled between kisses. She hummed, shifting to sit on her knees as she pushed his flannel shirt down his arms. She tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering closed as he moved to trail kisses down her neck and shoulder while sliding the thin strap of her tank top down out of the way.
She endured it for a few minutes before moving to lie on her back and pull him on top of her. His hands were roaming her sides, and she reached to pull his shirt over his head. It was only when she reached to undo his belt that he took hold of her hands and looked into her eyes, searching them for something.
"Mare, are you sure about this?" he asked, absentmindedly rubbing her cheek with his thumb.
"I love you." she stated immediately, putting a hand over the one on her cheek. "I love you, and I've never been more sure of anything." She leaned up to kiss him again, deeper and more passionate than before.
And as they made love for the first time in three years, they both finally felt whole again.
Dedicated to my dumbässes on Twitter because they all need Jesus and Frary is close enough