Betty wasn't quite sure what had brought her straight to the Pembrooke after school. Maybe it was the fact that Veronica had been missing that day at school. Maybe it was the fact that Archie and Jughead were busy. Or maybe it was simply the fact that she had nothing else to do.

She took a deep breath – god, was she ever going to get used to being in such a fancy place? – and knocked twice on the heavy mahogany door. Smithers opened with a smooth grin. "Miss Elizabeth. Good day."

"Good day, Smithers," Betty said, her face relaxing as she spoke. "Is Veronica around?"

Smithers' face fell. "I'm afraid she's not well, Ma'am."

If Betty Cooper was anything, she wasn't a quitter. "I'm not worried about a cold, Smithers."

He shrugged. "I'll check."

The butler turned his chin and spoke into a small microphone Betty hadn't noticed until now. "Miss Veronica, you have a guest."

Veronica must have replied, but Betty didn't hear it. Maybe a direct earpiece? Smithers turned back towards her and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, Miss Betty. She's not quite up to see you."

Betty sighed and nodded. "Thank you." She turned, and Smithers opened the heavy door for her. Betty ran her manicured fingers along the ridges in the door and gave him a small smile. She looked out upon the street and then turned suddenly back to Smithers – stuff this! – and looked at him with petrified defiance. "With all due respect, sir, I don't care what Ronnie says. I'm going to see her." Her heart was in her throat. Since when did Betty Cooper, nice girl extraordinaire, defy people above her?

To Betty's surprise, (and relief, if she allowed herself to admit it), Smithers just laughed, an easy smile spreading across his face. "Of course. Allow me to direct you."

When they arrived outside Veronica's room, Smithers knocked but the door was locked. Smithers, however, smiled at Betty – he'd always had a soft spot for her – and pulled out what she assumed was a skeleton key. He slipped it into the lock and it clicked quietly open.

Veronica's room was dark – darker than Betty had ever seen it, and it had a distinct smell of sadness. Veronica's voice sounded from the darkness. "Smithers?"

"God, Ronnie, you sound like shit," Betty said, coming into the room and shutting the door behind her, giving Smithers an appreciative smile.

"Oh," Veronica said. "Betty. I thought you were gonna be Mom or something."

"How are you feeling?" Betty asked softly, feeling her way over to the bed and perching on the edge precariously. Veronica reached over and flicked on a warm yellow lamp, before looking up at Betty.

Betty tried her hardest not to gasp, but her eyes gave her away. "Oh, Veronica."

Veronica scoffed. "Don't 'oh veronica' me. I know how shit I must look, and I don't give a crap."

Betty bit her lip. "Ronnie."

Shit was an understatement. Veronica Lodge, for a usually very stylish, on-trend young lady, had never looked worse. Her eyes were red-rimmed, blood shot as though she'd drunk 3 pints, and puffy as anything. She was dressed in one of her many pairs of silk pyjamas and they were stained – with what, Betty didn't know, nor was she sure she wanted to. Betty allowed her eyes to trail down, and Veronica was baring dark bruises around her wrists and upper arms. She had a long scratch across her left thigh and Betty noticed that the Latino girl looked unusually pale.

"Ronnie," Betty said slowly. "What –"

Veronica cut her off. "You know what, Betty? I don't think I want you here right now."

Betty nodded and gave Veronica a small smile. "Get well soon, I guess," she said, her voice small. She stood and had her hand on the spherical doorknob when she turned around. "No."

Veronica's face formed a frown. "No?"

Betty had to stifle a smile – clearly, Veronica hadn't been told 'no' many times in her life.

"Ronnie," she chided. "You're my best friend." Betty ignored the flush of longing at the words. "Best friends look out for each other. You're clearly not in a state to be left alone, so I'm –" She took a deep breath, marching around the room and tidying a couple of things. "I'm inviting myself to stay over, because you need me. So, Veronica Lodge, would you mind telling me what's going on? Or am I going to have to –" She was interrupted by a sob. Betty's eyes flicked back to Ronnie, who was sitting on the bed, her knees tucked under her chin, staring up at Betty with red, teary eyes.

"Ronnie," Betty said again, much softer. "What's going on, Veronica?"

Veronica closed her eyes slowly and a couple more tears slid down her face. "I don't want to speak about it." Her voice was rough.

"I want to hear, though," Betty said, before realising that maybe that wasn't the most considerate way to comfort her friend. She walked back around the bed and grabbed a heavy throw blanket, wrapping it around Veronica's shoulders. Ronnie was staring up at her, the cutest, Betty noted, pout on her face.

"I've never really had someone do that for me," Veronica said, her voice cracking.

Betty turned, a confused frown gracing her pretty face. "Do what?"

Veronica swallowed. "Offer to stay." She ducked her head, her shoulders shaking, and took a deep breath.

Betty bit her lip and kicked off her shoes, sitting down on the bed with Veronica. Jesus, she thought. Now was not the time to be thinking about what they could do in Ronnie's bed.

Shaking her head slightly, Betty sat next to Veronica, gazing at her. "You know you can talk to me, yeah?"

Veronica nodded. "I know." She moved her head and rested it in the crook of Betty's neck. Betty's breath hitched, and she dutifully reminded herself once again that now was most definitely not the time to question her sexuality. Resting her head on top of Veronica's, Betty tried (not very hard) to not breathe in her shampoo, her so very Veronica scent.

Veronica tilted her face up to meet Betty's eyes. She watched as the brunette took a deep breath and spoke quickly into her shoulder. "It was Chuck."

Betty felt her hands curl into fists, drawing blood almost immediately from the unhealed wounds from cheerleading practise the other day. The memory spiked the thought of kissing Veronica, and Betty found herself once again blushing.

Veronica frowned and unfurled Betty's clenched hands. "Don't be mad, Betty."

"I am," Betty admitted. "He fucking hurt you, Ronnie!"

"He did," Veronica allowed, "but I'm okay, because you're here."

Betty smiled reluctantly. Veronica had a knack for always knowing exactly what to say to calm her down. She looked down at her dark-haired friend and had to blow a breath out her lips to stop herself from just full on making out with her again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Betty asked, her lips set in a grim line. Veronica shook her head.

Betty took a deep breath and let it out. "I can't believe him."

Veronica frowned. "Why do you care?"

Betty almost choked. "Why do I care? Veronica Lodge! You are my best friend –" Once again, the words hurt more than Betty cared to admit – "And if anyone hurts you it is officially my business!"

Veronica smiled, her eyes shining with tears. "This is so hard, Betty."

"I know, bub," Betty soothed, and then she swore. "Shit, sorry!"

Veronica scoffed. "Why?"

Betty's blush was ever so prominent now. Bub. Bub. She'd freaking called Veronica Lodge bub.

Veronica bit her lip, hiding a smile, and flicked Betty's face. "You're blushing, crazy one. Tell me why."

Betty shook her head resolutely, her blush thickening.

Veronica pouted. "No? Not even for me? Not in the name of our friendship? You wouldn't tell me, even if I promised it would cheer me up and distract me from the fact I was sexually abused?" Her face was sweet, so sweet, and so cunning, and Betty swore (mentally this time) because she wasn't sure how Veronica had just so much power over her, already.

Betty groaned. "You're worse than Cheryl." Only, that brought up the memory of cheerleading practise, again.

Veronica was having the time of her life, Betty could tell. She glared jokingly down at her, her face redder than ever. Veronica grinned slyly. "D'you think we got into the Vixens?" Veronica asked, her voice cunning.

Betty was trying so, so hard to keep her cool, but it was difficult! And Veronica knew that! "I reckon we did," Betty said. "After your stunt."

"What?" Veronica said, her dark eyes glittery under the soft light. "The dance? Or the fantastic interview I did?"

Betty growled. "Ronnie!"

Veronica laughed. "You're fun to tease, Betty Cooper."

Betty lifted the frown off her face and giggled. "It's not fair! You're hard to stay mad at!"

Veronica grinned. "One of my many amazing traits."

"Someone's feeling better," Betty commented, poking Veronica's nose.

Veronica smiled. "Only because of you."

Betty closed her eyes, gritting her teeth. "Could you stop saying things like that?"

Veronica tapped Betty's arm and she opened her eyes to meet Veronica's panicked ones. Betty kicked herself. "Hey, don't freak out, it's okay, I'm not mad," Betty said softly, rubbing Ronnie's back as she pulled her close. Veronica was close to tears again, and Betty knew it was her fault, and she was pissed at herself. What kind of friend asks their anxiety-attack-prone best friend to stop talking when she's already upset? Betty was close to tears herself, now, but she focused on Ronnie, rubbing her back until she calmed down, stroking her soft pyjamas over and over again. Veronica let out a sigh and Betty gave her a soft smile – an assurance that it was okay.

"Things like what?" Veronica asked softly.

Betty's blush returned. "Things that… make me wanna kiss you."

Veronica's eyes suddenly became very focussed on Betty's shoulder. "Why would that be a bad thing?"

Betty's heart started thumping twenty times its normal pace. "Ronnie…"

Veronica met her eyes and gave her a sly smile. "Yes?"

"Can… Can I…" Betty was struggling to get the words out. "Can I kiss you?"

Veronica's face was priceless, and she breathed the word 'yes' and Betty knew she'd forever remember the moment as she leant down to meet Ronnie's lips, taking the soft ones in her own, holding them for a second and letting them go gently.

Betty couldn't have stopped the smile that spread across her face if she tried. "I believe you're blushing, Ms Lodge."

Veronica bit her lip. "Betty –" She cut herself off and leant up again, curling a still bruised – Betty was not letting this go, no – wrist around the blonde's neck and resting her forehead against hers.

"Betty," Veronica said again, her lips a breath away from Betty's. "I… I think maybe… you should know… that day at tryouts… it wasn't just for Cheryl."

Betty's face was so, so red. "Oh?"

Veronica's voice caught. "It was for me."

Betty swallowed, once, and then pulled Veronica forth, not roughly, but enough to know she was needed. "Ronnie."

"Betty," Veronica said, and that was all it took. Betty took a shallow breath and moved her head slowly, the mere half-inch towards Veronica that it took to close the gap between their lips. This kiss was slow, soft lips on others, until Betty pulled away.

"I…"

"Shh," Ronnie whispered, pulling Betty down to lie in bed next to her. "Don't talk."

She pulled Betty closer and rested her head against Betty's chest. "Goodnight."

"Night," Betty said, still slightly in shock.

Veronica smiled into her chest. "And Betty? Thank you."

Betty wasn't sure she would ever be happier.