Chapter One

"The whore of Riverdale has returned."

Elizabeth 'Betty' Cooper looked up from her menu and the corner of her mouth quirked in a wry grin.

Her old nemesis, Cheryl Blossom…(or did she go by her married name 'Rutherford' now?) took her seat across the table from her. She motioned for a waiter who was at their table in an instant.

Betty may have deliberately picked a restaurant outside of town for this meeting, eighteen years in the making, but the Blossom name still carried a long reach and Cheryl was recognized and catered to wherever she went.

Betty didn't want anyone else to know she had returned. Yet. She and her daughter Jessica had arrived from New York City the night before, going straight from the airport to the hotel where she had made the call to Cheryl.

"I should have been surprised to get your call but I really wasn't. I knew as soon as JJ turned eighteen that you would come back."

Cheryl didn't call him Jason, Betty was so grateful for that…She had so much to be grateful to this woman for, but right now, this, small yet huge thing, that she had kept her promise to Betty that she wouldn't let her son be called Jason. A well of emotion swelled into Betty's throat and she had to take a deep breath to move past it and be able to speak. "How is he?"

"His graduation was just this past week. A grand affair of course attended by all high society. He's trying to convince my mother to let him to go backpacking in Europe for a year before starting Princeton."

Betty eased back in her seat. Princeton. Just like that. Her little boy was headed to Princeton like the golden heir apparent that he was while Betty had fought and scraped together every resource she had to make sure Jessica got a good education and got a full scholarship to Columbia. "Is he happy?"

Cheryl gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah. He's got a wide circle of friends. Every advantage the Blossom name has provided him with and a bright future."

Betty didn't miss the undertone of warning in her tone. Don't fuck it up for him now. She stiffened.

Cheryl sighed. "Look, Betty. I can't even imagine what these past eighteen years have been like for you-"

"No, you can't, Cheryl," she snapped. "I kept my end of the bargain. He's an adult now. I want my son back."

Cheryl took a sip of her wine. "He doesn't know you exist, Betty."

"Because you told him his parents died. I remember the deal, Cheryl, but the time has come for him to learn the truth. I thank you for what you did for him-"

"You have no idea," Cheryl said, her eyes glittering hard for a second before she looked at Betty sadly. "I'm not saying he doesn't deserve to know the truth…I wouldn't be here if I didn't agree with you but we can't just ambush with everything that happened almost twenty years ago. This can't just be about what you want. It has to be about what's best for him."

Betty nodded slowly, trying to control her emotions. "You're right… I just…"

"Yeah I know. Just… baby steps, okay? My mother is gonna have a shit fit when she learns your back in town. To stay?"

"Oh you bet your ass," Betty insisted.

Cheryl nodded, as if she approved. "Well, I know my nana is gonna find that hysterical."

Betty set her fork down, her eyes wide. "She's still alive?"

"Ninety nine years old next month."

"Wow," Betty leaned back in her seat. The old woman was the only Blossom she had actually liked as a teenager.

"Tell me about Jessica," Cheryl urged.

Betty lit up with pride. "She's back at the hotel probably trying to track down the nearest library to catch up on every bit of Riverdale history she can get her hands on."

"Aren't you afraid she might stumble upon what happened to you?"

"I told her what happened."

Cheryl nearly choked on her bite of grape tomato. "Everything?"

"Unlike your creepy family, I don't keep secrets from my daughter. I wanted her to be prepared for coming back here. So yes, she knows every vile thing that happened almost twenty years ago."

"Jesus." Cheryl shook her head. "Why would you think it would help her to know any that?"

Betty cocked her head. "Oh you mean as opposed to telling her…what? Some warped Stepford Blossom white-washed version?"

"She's eighteen years old, Betty."

"I was sixteen!" Betty shot back, rage rising within her.

Guilt shadowed Chery's face and she nodded. They were silent for a while before she cleared her throat. "Well, we've talked about everyone but one key player in this whole thing. Have you seen him yet? Does he know you're back?"

Betty looked down at her plate, pushing the pasta around a bit. Him. The boy she had loved and left. Her first…only love. "No. I know I should because he's going to find out I'm here sooner or later but…I just wasn't ready to see Jughead yet."

"Well, you won't have to tell me how that meeting goes. I'm sure I'll see the nuclear explosion from my window clear across town."

Betty rolled her eyes, trying for lightness but her stomach knotted, imagining Jughead's reaction to seeing her after how she had disappeared on him. "We're adults now. I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll go. Let him know I'm staying in Riverdale and we'll just go on and live our lives the way we have all these years. Nothing will change."

Cheryl snorted. "If you believe that, I've got some swamp land in Florida to sell you."

"Okay, stop. Seriously. You're gonna freak me out."

"Sorry, it's what we Blossoms do, you know. Just…well…there's some stuff you should know about Jughead and JJ before you see him."

Betty blinked, surprised. "What are you talking about?"

"Jughead is the leader of the Serpents now."

Betty closed her eyes, regret piercing her chest. "I had a feeling that would happen after his dad died a few years ago, but I had hoped that would be the push Jughead needed to get out of that life. Guess not."

"Yeah, not. He's trying to turn the gang around. Make it a good thing, you know? And well…he and JJ. He's always looked out for JJ, and much to my mother's horror JJ really looks up to Jughead. He's kind of like a father figure to him."

Betty's mouth fell open. "Seriously?"

"It's the one thing he's ever argued with my mom about. Jughead is a 'no debate' zone for JJ. He latched on to him when he was a little boy because Jughead was always kind of around in town. I guess because JJ's own father wasn't around-"

"Do not-"

Cheryl lifted her hand. "Not a judgement. Merely a statement of fact. I think Jughead kept his eye on JJ, for your sake at first. Now…I've seen them together. Jughead really loves JJ like a son."

"You're not going to tell me my son is involved in Jughead's gang, Cheryl. Please don't tell me-"

"Hell no. Jughead doesn't let him into that, even when JJ thought it would be so cool. Jughead always said no."

Betty exhaled in relief.

"Anyway. I thought it best if you were prepared. I've got to get going. Let's take this slow, okay? I know you've waited a long time for this but JJ has no idea Train Betty is coming. God help Riverdale."

The next day Betty made her way to the seedier side of Riverdale. South Side was home to the less affluent citizens of town and most of the time, there was no mixing between the two. Usually when bleeding over occurred the result was never pleasant. Riverdale police had their hands full making sure the divide stayed clear and keeping the south side from exploding in all out chaos created by low incomes and low hope.

She'd only been in this bar a handful of times and it always made her uneasy. This time, though, her nervousness had nothing to do with the leering men or aura of menace that permeated the air. Her heart was in her throat, scanning the room for one man. She tried to alter the picture she had in her head of the teenage boy he had been with his ever present wool cap. What would he look like now? Betty tried to mentally take stock of her own appearance. She felt nothing like the teenage girl she had been. Did she look much different? Her face had lost some of its fullness. A wrinkle here and there maybe. A body that was maybe a little rounder in places, having birthed two children. She heard a thud ahead of her and looked up towards the stairs that led to the rooms above the bar.

A man gripped the railing, missing his footing, he had nearly tripped on the step when he spotted her.

Dear God. Betty couldn't breathe looking at him. The room seemed to quiet around them though she could still feel the pulsing beat of bluesy rock that told her the sensation was all in her mind. Her entire world narrowed to one point. He looked the same, yet not the same at all. She walked closer, limbs heavy with dread and uncertainty but unable to resist the urge to move towards him.

"Is that-" A voice said behind her.

"Yeah," another voice replied.

She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. He hadn't moved from his spot in the middle, gripping the railing so hard Betty could see his knuckles turn almost as white as the stunned face that stared at her now.

He didn't have his hat on. That was the first thing that came to her mind when the chaotic whirl of seeing him again for the first time in so long had settled. His hair was still in the usual lush disarray she had remembered so well. The urge to slide her fingers through it made Betty's mouth go dry. His face had lost most of his boyish softness covered now with a slight shadow of stubble along his jaw. There were faint lines around his eyes. Laugh lines, Betty would have wanted to believe had she known that the boy she knew didn't laugh easily. Life had been no more kind to Jughead than it had to her. It had just given her more money.

"What the…Why?" He asked her. His voice was slightly deeper too.

She noticed that his eyes…those beautiful blue eyes roamed over her as if taking in all her changes as well. The lanky build she remembered gave way now to lean muscle, noticeable even beneath his leather jacket. Long legs in black jeans, narrow hips and black boots finished the intimidating picture. "Can we go somewhere and talk?"

His eyes widened a little. At her gall, no doubt and Betty was certain he was about to tell her to go fuck herself. Curiosity seemed to win out though and he gave a curt nod and then turned and made his way back up the stairs. She followed him into one of the rooms. His office, she figured. A cluttered desk was propped close to the wall. A brown couch flanked another side. He took off his jacket and Betty watched his back, broader than she remembered, beneath the black t-shirt he wore as he tossed it on to the couch and ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly turning back to her. "This is one of the few times in my life I really wish I drank."

His father had been a notorious alcoholic having attempted many times over his lifetime to stay sober before his liver had finally given out, cause his body to shut down. Betty wasn't surprised that Jughead didn't drink.

"Okay." He said, leaning against his desk. "You wanted to talk. Talk."

She tried not to let the coldness in his tone hurt. He had every right to be angry with her. Logically, she knew that; but she and Jughead had never been about logic. "I'm moving back to Riverdale. Permanently. I wanted you to hear it from me personally."

He leaned back, mouth open in feigned shock. "Really? That's awfully considerate of you. Nice change from your usual M.O, leaving apologetic notes on night tables."

Her face flushed hot with guilt and her eyes burned with tears. "Yeah. Well. I guess I'll go."

She looked away and he bolted from the desk, making her jump when he caught her arm. He glared down at her, saying nothing for the longest time.

Betty stared up at him, into hot angry blue eyes, uncertainty and arousal churning through her. She tried to jerk her arm free but his grip tightened.

"What the hell are you doing back here?" he demanded.

"I told you-"

He cut her off with his mouth, swallowing her gasp of surprise and then…melting surrender as her knees buckled under the weight of sense memory of hot teenage fumblings, trying to gorge on each other and new teenage feelings that always seemed too big for either of them to contain.

The years had done nothing to dull the urge to climb inside of each other and Betty didn't utter a single protest as he pushed her against the wall and feasted on her mouth, holding her head still with his hands as if he was indeed afraid she would bolt. No. Eighteen years…she wasn't going anywhere. She tugged at his shirt, pulling trying to get at bare skin, a tiny voice pricking the back of her mind, here? Yes, here. NOW, the lust roaring in her blood shouted back. Buttons undone, zippers down, clothes shifted just enough to get at each other. With ease he turned them both towards the couch and down. His weight over her, spreading her legs. He stopped for a second. He always did, just before. Giving her that last out. Always. If you want me to stop, just say the word, okay? Tears burned in her eyes as for a split second the anger fell away and he was once again the sweet boy she knew. She nodded and the angry mask was back and he closed his eyes, closing himself away from her even as he pushed into her body for the first time in so many years. He gave a low growl deep in his throat and she cried out in shock as the lightning fast orgasm slammed into her, stunning her. He moved then, deep and fast, kindling the fire inside of her for more even as she still throbbed around him. Betty held him close, burying her face in his neck, tasting his skin, feeling the sweat gathering there.

Dear God how she'd missed him. There'd been a few other men, men with dark hair and blue eyes that she'd tried to use to replace him in her heart but nothing came close to this. She took his anger into her eagerly because she was too relieved to feel this again, this perfection of his body inside of her. Then, too soon, it was over. He tore a second cry from her before she felt his own release follow. She tightened her legs around his hips as he trembled, panting against her, his hot breath in her hair. They stayed that way, locked together for a few seconds and she gave into the urge to slide her fingers in his hair, wanting to kiss him. She felt the coldness in him return in that second and he started to pull away. She wanted to stop him, wanted to keep him from putting that wall up between them but it was too late. He left her and straightened his clothes, going to the door once she was back on her shaky legs. Opening it he turned to her, no longer the sweet teenage boy she knew but an angry adult man. "Now that we got that out of the way. Get the hell out, Elizabeth Cooper. And this time, stay gone."