A/N: Sincerest apologies for the delay in getting this live. Inspiration strikes in rare moments, but most often when I'm at my day job and unable to actually write anything. Thank you for your patience and kind reviews. Also, cheers to those reviewers with an open mind. I know this fanfic defies the standard Riverdale ships (and angers you die-hard Bughead shippers), but I couldn't resist. Happy reading!

Chapter 3

Out of breath and panting with stress and exhaustion, Betty slammed the door of her bedroom shut with a panicked huff. She kicked her shoes off against her white shabby chic dresser while mascara-laden tears ran down her face. Hiccupping against her will in between quiet sobs, she rubbed the back of her hands over her face, smearing the black residue left over from the night's events across her blotchy face. She pulled the hem of the dress over her head and threw it into the hamper with disgust and shame. Her bare feet padded quickly across the cold floor as she ran to her bathroom, desperate to wash the shame off her body.

Betty quickly closed the bathroom door, turned on the shower to full heat and let the steam slowly surround her. She could feel her panic and desperation rack her body, the full blown impact of her panic attack forcing her breathing into a shallow shadow of itself, causing her heart to beat vividly against her chest, keeping the time of her attack like a demented metronome. She slid her back down against the back of the door, settling onto the bathroom mat while she let the cool black and white floor tile against her cheek root her to the ground and blanket her stress. Groping for the clutch she had haphazardly thrown on the floor, she found her phone that immediately lit in recognition at her touch. Eyes bleary with tears, she saw the dozens of texts Ronnie had sent her over the course of the last hour or so.

Her fingers fumbling against the glass, she texted her best friend.

"I did something horrible."

The three little gray dots that indicated Veronica was replying instantaneously floated to the top of her notifications like a beacon of hope.

"Thank God you responded, I was about to send out the cavalry. Horrible like I need to help you bury a body or horrible like I need to bring several pints of ice cream STAT?"

Despite herself, a wry smile formed on Betty's tear-stained face.

"No body, but in desperate need of ice cream. Please hurry."

Betty put the phone on her vanity and stepped into the steam. She sighed audibly as the stifling hot water cascaded down her back, soaking the curl out of her hair and flattening it into a thick golden sheet. Grabbing some face wash, she slowly rubbed the mascara and leftover makeup off her face, almost falling into a trance from the soothing motion. She soaked her loofah thoroughly with her honeysuckle body wash and furiously scrubbed her body, leaving red marks in angry streaks across her skin. She leaned back against the shower wall as her thoughts ran through her head in a frenzy.

Moments from the night flashed through her memory like scenes from a cut movie reel. The wonder in Jughead's face when he first saw her and his incredulous hurt when they fought later on. FP's bold grin and quick eyebrow raise when their eyes connected and the low guttural noise he made when he came all over the shower. A shiver ran down her back as she thought of it. Whether it was one of repulsion or arousal, she didn't know and did not want to consider. Deep in thought, Betty took a shuddering breath as the scent of honeysuckle surrounded her, calming her and lulling her to sleep.

A quiet but forceful knock interrupted her internal monologue and scattered her thoughts down the drain.

"Bets, are you okay? Let me in!"

Betty turned off the shower and wrapped the warm yellow towel hung on the glass hook nearby around her dripping body. She quickly opened the door and saw Veronica's eyes blink against the wall of steam that hit her face.

"Whoa, nice sauna setup." Eyes now laced with concern, she grabbed Betty by the elbows and surveyed her thoroughly. "What happened, Bets? Are you okay? Did you work things out with Jughead?"

The sound of his name on Ronnie's lips was like the final nail in the coffin, the final stab in the heart and the final breaking point for Betty. As if they'd been building up for years, a stream of tears erupted from her eyes instantaneously. A low sob escaped her without her consent as her body folded into itself.

Dark, manicured eyebrows furrowed in instant worry. "Oh no, Bets, it's okay! Whatever it is we can fix it! Nothing can be worse than what happened in high school, for God's sake!"

Through hiccupping sobs, Betty responded, "But it is!"

Eyebrows now raised in skepticism, Ronnie replied, "B, unless you murdered a power family's rich ginger son because he ruined the family dynasty and was running away with his pregnant third cousin, I think we're in the clear."

Looking up to the smirk that graced Veronica's face, she burst into a fit of giggles that had her stomach aching. Falling back onto the bed, she let the humor of the moment push out the desperation for just a brief respite.

V fell back onto her bed right beside her. Betty noticed her eggplant colored silk pajamas for the first time and felt a flash of admiration. Looking Betty in the eye, Ronnie asked, "Really, Bets - what could possibly be so bad?"

Betty scrunched her eyes in effort and let out a long sigh. Turning toward V, she said low and resigned, "I cheated on Juggy tonight."

Like a slingshot or a bat out of hell, Veronica catapulted off the bed and turned toward Betty, eyes wide and searching.

"I'm sorry, what? What did you just say?"

Betty sat up, looked down at her open palms and shrugged. "I didn't mean to, but it happened and I'm not even sure where to begin telling the story."

Expressive eyebrows still near her hairline, Ronnie replied, "At the beginning, of course. Start when you left The Breakfast Club."

Taking a deep breath for courage, Betty told the story, not forgoing a single lurid detail. Like any proper best friend, Veronica gasped in all the right places, offering Betty solace when she didn't deserve any. After she reached the end of the story, Veronica sat in silence for almost two minutes, a minute and a half longer than her previous record. Mouth gaping in question, she looked at Betty head on and saw the blatant shame in her eyes. Finally recovering her wits, she let out a loud sigh.

"Holy fucking shit, Bets."

Betty let out a dry laugh and raised her hands to cover her eyes. "Trust me, I know."

Veronica surveyed Betty with a discerning eye. She grabbed Betty's blue fluffy robe off the hook on the bathroom door and threw it to her on the bed.

"Okay, first things first. You need to get cozy before we go any further, so get in your PJs and I'll grab the ice cream."

By the time Betty came out of the bathroom, clad in her warmest flannel pajamas and damp hair braided behind her back, Ronnie had commandeered her bed, opened two pints of ice cream and turned on Betty's favorite movie, The Holiday. Betty sent up a silent prayer in thanks for best friends and Jude Law.

Betty settled into bed next to Veronica and took the opened pint of black raspberry chocolate chip out of her hands. Shoving a large spoonful into her mouth, her eyes turned toward Ronnie in expectation.

"Well? What the hell is wrong with me?"

Veronica took a bite of her mocha ice cream and turned to Betty. "Bets, I don't think you really cheated on Juggy in this situation, but you are in a world of trouble my friend."

Betty raised in eye in question. "No shit, Sherlock, but how on earth was that not cheating? I masturbated with someone else. I didn't touch him, but it was very intentional."

Veronica grimaced a bit. "Well, I know, but you didn't touch hi-"

"V! It doesn't matter if I touched him or not. It's goddamn FP Jones, for fuck's sake!"

Veronica nodded in agreement and replied, "That is a new and interesting development, isn't it? I mean, FP is super DILF-y, but I thought that would be more my taste than yours...and I certainly don't blame you for wanting to touch yourself while we was naked and wet in front of you. Jesus Christ, you can only have so much willpower."

Betty almost got whiplash from how quickly she turned toward her best friend, eyebrows raised in shock. "Wait, you mean - you think FP is hot?"

Veronica looked incredulously into her best friend's eyes. "Elizabeth. FP Jones is so smoking hot, I'm fairly certain every pair of underwear I own would go up in a flame of lust and lubricant if I ever came within three feet of the man."

Betty's laughter rang out in the room as she covered her eyes with her hands. Peaking one blue eye through her slender fingers, she looked at V and said, "He really is, isn't he?"

Veronica nodded solemnly and said, "Damn straight he is, B. But that doesn't stop him from being your boyfriend's father. What were you thinking?"

Betty groaned in frustration and fed herself another heaping spoonful of ice cream. "I wasn't thinking at all and that's the problem. The only thing I was focused on was getting off...and I did...spectacularly."

"Do you still want to be with Jughead?"

Betty nodded her head furiously. "Yes, of course. I think what happened tonight was just the accumulation of sexual frustration, my fight with Juggy and just being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

V looked at her in the serious, noir-film-star way that only she could pull off. "But do you still have the hots for FP?"

Betty bit her lip and played with a stray thread in her pink duvet. "I'm worried about that. I think FP woke something up in me that's been dormant for a long time. It's like my fantasies were within reach for the first time."

Head resting on Betty's shoulder, Veronica reached out to clasp her best friend's hand. "So what are you going to do about that?"

Betty looked at her best friend and felt a spark of determination return amongst the stress and guilt. Squaring her shoulders, she replied fervently.

"Nothing. I'm going to pretend like my fantasies don't exist and that nothing happened. I'm going to bury it all inside me. Nothing ever happened with FP Jones."


A light filtered across her eyelids and pulled Betty grudgingly out of a dream. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and flipped to the other side of the bed, surprised to see it empty. Veronica was not a morning person and typically slept much longer than Betty during their sleepovers. She fumbled for her cellphone on the nightstand and saw the text notification on her home screen.

"Hey, I didn't want to wake you but I had a 9 AM class at Lotus because the other instructor Becky called in sick. Evil skank. Anyway, text me after you wake up and we'll grab some lunch. Love you! :*"

Betty saw that it was almost noon and let out a long groan. She never slept past ten, but the previous night's events clearly forced her hand. She lazily got out of bed and made her mental game plan for the day as she got ready. She needed to talk to Jughead obviously, but actually finding him would be the issue. He hadn't responded to the text she had sent him last night. Thankfully, Archie could typically always find him.

She threw her second-day curled hair into an easy half-up top knot and swiped on some extra mascara and burgundy lip stain. She needed to feel in control today and the first step was looking put-together. She slipped on a pair of roughed-up black skinnies, a tight white tank and her newly-purchased burgundy leather jacket from her recent shopping spree with V. As she slipped on her black suede booties, she texted Archie.

"Hey there. You happen to know where Juggy is?"

She heard the soft beep of his response as she was spritzing on her favorite vanilla musk perfume.

"Hey and no, I haven't seen him since he ran out last night. What the hell happened?"

Betty rolled her eyes in frustration and let out a huff in response. Her fingers flew across the phone as she typed.

"Long story. Up for some lunch with V and me?"

"Sounds good. See you at Pops in 20."

She quickly sent Veronica an update and headed downstairs. The house was eerily quiet - her parents, Polly and the twins had all gone to the city for the weekend and the lack of toddler babble and plastic toy sounds was strange. Funny how a few years change everything, Betty thought offhand. The day was overcast, but there wasn't any rain due until the evening so Betty decided to walk to Pops and sort through her thoughts.

Loving the sound of her boots on the sidewalk pavement, Betty bit her lip against the chill as she sorted through what she was feeling. Jughead had been her rock for the last few years and she loved him dearly, but were they growing apart as they got older? Why did he react so harshly toward her fantasy confession? The guilt she felt about her encounter with FP was potent and quickly overwhelming her, so she tried to push it out of her thoughts and focus solely on the fantasy issue. Betty's lips pursed in concern when she remembered that she hadn't even had the chance to fully explain the fantasy...and all that it entailed. Ever since the dramatic final years of high school, she had been trying to find her inner strength and sexuality. Years of therapy told Betty that her anxiety was rooted in situations where she felt out of control. Her therapist had suggested visualizing situations in where she was not in control where there was also a positive outcome. Ever the dutiful student, she took this task seriously and spent a lot of time considering it. Over time, her visualizations turned...sexual. A fantasy took root in her mind and grew with intensity over time and she was desperate to act it out and truly let herself go. In her fantasy, she was blindfolded and tied up while she had anal sex with her partner. She knew that would be a pure act of submission and would help her overcome her incessant need to be in control. After the way Jughead reacted last night, would he even listen to the rest of her fantasy?

Betty let out a quiet "Ugh" and pushed the topic out of her mind as Pop's neon sign came into view. She quickly walked across the gravel parking lot and pushed against the door, eager to get out of the chill. The door chime announced her arrival and the familiar flash of ginger hair that she had grown so accustomed to over the course of her life told her that Archie was already in their standard booth. He raised a hand in greeting and she made her way back to him.

She slid into the booth across from her oldest friend and felt a tired smile rise on her face.

"Hey there, Arch."

Years of friendship made the concern blatantly obvious in his eyes. He placed a warm hand on her chilled ones clasped on the table.

"What happened last night, Bets?"

"Ugh," Betty groaned and she sat back and covered her face with her hands. Letting her hands fall back onto the table, she stammered, "Well, I tried to tell Juggy about...I tried to talk to Jughead and...we had a difficult conversation and he didn't like it."

Archie's auburn eyebrow raised instantly in skepticism.

"...You had a difficult conversation and he didn't like it? What were you talking about?"

Betty opened her mouth, mind racking through an appropriate response when the door chimed once again. Jerking her head around, she saw Veronica slip into the diner in her paneled yoga pants and her loose heather "Namaste in bed" sweatshirt hanging off her trim shoulder.

A sigh of relief escaped Betty. "Oh thank God."

Archie looked at her in confusion as Veronica slid into the booth next to her.

"Hello darlings, how's everyone doing on this lovely fall day?"

Archie smiled at his long-time friend and occasional friend with benefits. "Hey Ronnie, Betty was just telling me about her argument with Jughead last night." He gave Betty a sly, expectant look.

Veronica looked at Betty and said, "Well, there's no if-ands-or-buts about it, it's a difficult topic."

Betty half-groaned, half-laughed at Veronica's ridiculous pun. She swatted her friend playfully between chuckles. "Jesus Christ, Ronnie, stop."

Ronnie snickered and said, "Sorry, B, I couldn't resist. But honestly, you'd think the dude would be into anal."

Archie spat out a stream of chocolate milkshake across the table that landed directly between Betty and Veronica. They jumped to the sides of the booth, wiping the spit milkshake off themselves. "Jesus Arch!" Veronica exclaimed.

Archie, fumbling for words, stuttered with a stupefied look on his face, "I'm sorry, what did you say? Anal?"

Betty bit her lip and covered her face simultaneously. "Veronica!"

V pursed her lips in apologetic response. "I'm sorry, Bets, it slipped out. I thought you had already told him."

Archie's head kept swiveling back and forth between the two of them as if he were a bobblehead. "Okay, so let me get this straight. You asked Jughead if he wanted to have anal and he said...no?"

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Betty replied dryly, "Well, there was a bit more to it than that, but yes, that's the gist of it."

The look on Archie's face was pure bafflement. "But...why?!"

"My thoughts exactly, Archiekins," replied Veronica earnestly, taking a long sip of her milkshake.

Archie ran his hands through his hair. "But...I just don't understand. I mean Jug and I have never talked about this before but every single dude I know wants to get it in the backdoor."

Betty grimaced and held up a hand, begging Archie to stop. "Archie, please. Also, he didn't turn down the anal outright. He was more concerned that we were moving too fast and that he couldn't be what I needed anymore. That's a direct quote."

"Hm," Archie replied. "Well, what are you going to do? I haven't heard from him all day."

A loud beep coming from Archie's lap interrupted him. Archie's quick glance and raised eyebrows told her everything she needed to know.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Well, I'm not sure where he is right now...but he asked me if I wanted to meet him at the White Wyrm tonight...he said he needs to blow off some steam." Archie's sympathy was evident while reading off the final portion of the text.

Veronica's look was pure "WTF?"

"The White Wyrm? Seriously?" she asked.

Archie looked hesitant. "He goes there sometimes...to hang out with some of his Southside friends."

Betty's face jerked to Archie's. "He does?" she asked quietly.

Archie nodded his head sheepishly.

"He never told me that," Betty murmured.

Veronica turned toward Betty and placed a manicured hand on her shoulder. "Bets, I have another class tonight and you can't go to that place alone."

Betty looked at Archie hopefully.

"I'm sorry Bets, but I have my music tutor tonight. You can talk to him at class tomorrow."

Betty's mouth set into a firm line, filled with the classic Cooper determination. "No. This needs to happen today. He'll just have to share his safe haven for the evening."

Veronica looked pleadingly at her, "B, you can't just walk into the White Wyrm by yours-"

Betty cut her off with a sharp look. "Yes, I can. And I will."


Betty sat in her Mini Cooper and watched the windshield wipers push the soft drizzle of rain across the glass. Alicia Keys soothed the rough edges of her soul through the stereo and she tried to pluck up the courage to go into the bar across the street. Night had fallen early, so Betty could see the neon sign announcing the White Wyrm through the rain and fog. She saw Jughead's motorcycle parked out front when she arrived, so she knew she was in the right place. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she checked her makeup one final time in the mirror. She applied a thick burgundy lacquer over her lip stain, making her lips look slick and wet. She added a smoky eye and thickened her lashes with more mascara. Her loose waves curled down over the collar of her leather jacket and down her back. She had kept on the same outfit from the afternoon, but added a push-up bra. If she was going to have a tense conversation in a bar, she might as well look sexy as hell while doing it.

Setting her shoulders, she turned off the car and pushed open the door. The rain fell gently on her face, calming her as she walked toward the front entrance of the White Wyrm. A huge man who vaguely resembled the Mountain from Game of Thrones awaited her at the entrance. He looked her up and down with a lecherous look in his eye and licked his lips as he checked her ID.

"Looking for something specific tonight, princess? I can be your type," he leered.

She plucked her ID out his hands and replied with a curt, "Pass." She pushed past him and into the smoky hazy of the White Wyrm.

Much bigger than it looked on the outside, the White Wyrm had been the watering hole of choice for the Southside Serpents for many years. While anyone could come, it wasn't recommended unless you had a tie to the Serpents. Betty had that covered.

She didn't go unnoticed as she pushed her way past the pool tables and dart board, but she didn't stop traffic either. Her eyes searched through the crowd for Jughead to no avail. She felt a kernel of panic rise in her throat. What if she couldn't find him? She was about to bolt when she saw the familiar point of a hacked-up beanie behind a wooden pole at the far end of the bar. Sighing in relief, Betty quickly made her way around the large half-circle bar, sidestepping outstretched legs, cigarette butts and peanut shells. Jughead came into full view and Betty immediately stopped dead in her tracks. He was obviously wasted, per the half-empty bottle of whisky in front of him, but what was more disturbing was the leggy brunette draped over him.

Betty's stress was quickly replaced with red hot fury and she stalked up to Juggy, slammed her hand down onto the bar and said, "Hello, Jughead."

Red-rimmed eyes shot to hers and he knocked his empty, ice-filled glass over with a jerk of his hand. Mouth ajar, he gaped, "Betty?! What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here, Jughead? What are you doing here? Seems like a perfectly cozy evening with you, your whisky and Toni!"

Toni Topaz's eyes fluttered toward hers with a sneer. "It was," she simpered, "until you showed up."

Jughead narrowed his eyes at Toni's response and turned toward Betty.

"Bets, I'm sorry, I just needed to blow off some steam and I never thought that you'd come here."

Betty pushed her emotions back down her throat. "That much is obvious Jughead, but why did you need to escape? We need to talk about last night, so I showed up here and you're wasted with some other girl. What am I supposed to think?"

Toni tapped a blood red stiletto nail on the filthy bar top. "Listen, Betty," she sneered. "JJ has complicated feelings that you've never concerned yourself with...so he comes here and talks to me. We've been close ever since his stint at Southside and that hasn't changed the entire time he's been with you."

Betty's wide eyes turned toward Jughead in shock. "JJ? What the hell?! You've come here to talk through your problems - problems we've had together - the entire time we've been dating?!"

Jughead's head bobbed in his stupor and he slurred a bit. "Listen Bets, it's not a big deal. You can be a lot to handle sometimes and Toni just helps me through it. She's a good friend." Toni raised her eyebrows in challenge and triumph and reached over to wrap her arm around Jughead's shoulder.

Betty gasped out loud as hurt flooded her like a broken dam. Clutching her hand to her heart, she stammered out, "Juggy, I came here tonight to talk about our fight, but clearly we have more issues that I ever thought."

Toni's eyes narrowed at Betty while Jughead slurred through some incoherent response. She whipped a long chocolate curl over her shoulder as she hissed through her teeth. "I've been waiting to say this to you for a long time and clearly now is my chance. You and Jughead are not meant to be together. You're uptown, he's downtown, you're cashmere, he's leather, you're fluff and he's substance." Jabbing a finger at Betty's chest, she punctuated her words with a vengeful stab. "You. Do. Not. Fit. Give it up, let him go and move on. You'll be happier for it and so will we."

Hate, anger and spite rose in Betty like thick lava filling her veins and she pulled back her hand, ready to slap the shit out of that Southside bitch. Before she could unleash her holy hell onto Toni, a huge, rough hand enclosed her fist and the familiar, comforting smell of sandalwood filled the space around her.

"Is there a problem here?" The rough voice that had called out her name in orgasm the night before snaked its way through the thick tension. Betty was frozen on the spot, so FP's hand slowly lowered her fist to her side as he stepped right beside her, his body halfway between her and Toni as if protecting them both from the impending fight.

Toni half=smirked, half-scoffed at FP. "No problem, FP. I was just telling Betty here that she isn't a good fit for a Jughead and it seems like he agrees, don't you JJ?"

Half-passed out on the bar, Jughead's thumb barely turned upward in agreement. Betty had no idea if he was coherent, but that small affirmation hit her like a truck. She gasped again and unconsciously turned into FP, trying to shield herself from the pain.

FP looked at Toni with serious doubt and replied, "I call bullshit. Jughead, stand up for your girl, goddamnit." FP shook his shoulder and Jughead fell off the barstool with a huge thud and loud groan.

Through the haze and fog, Jughead yelled, "For fucks' sake, Betty, can't you just leave me alone?!"

Both Betty and FP reeled back as though they had been physically slapped. Toni looked smugly at Betty in triumph and said with a finger pointed toward the exit, "Well, you heard the man. You're not wanted here. The door is that way."

Her sharp words cut straight through Betty and it was the last she could take. Tears burnt up by her anger and disbelief, she ran out of the bar dry-eyed as FP tried to pull Jughead back onto the bar stool. She pushed through the front door and gulped the fresh air desperately as she tried to maintain her composure. Rain falling steady now, she walked to the side alley and leaned back against the damp brick, focused on regulating her breathing and controlling the panic that welled inside her.

She was about to push off the wall and walk to her car when she heard a low chuckle come from the far, dark corner of the alley near the White Wyrm's staff entrance. Fear flooded her as her head snapped toward the sound, eyes seeking the source in the pitch black dark.

"Hi there, princess - did you finally come for your taste?" The huge bouncer made his way out of the shadows, stalking toward her with a purpose that terrified her. She turned on her heel and was about to break into a sprint when she slipped on the wet pavement and hit the ground with a hard thud.

The world pivoted around her as rain fell onto her face. The smell of garbage and urine shocked her senses as she tried to pick herself up. Blinking back the shock and dull pain she felt everywhere from the impact, she looked up and saw him standing over her with an evil grin on his face that she'd never forget for the rest of her life. She let out one loud scream before his hand shot toward her, yanking her up by the elbow and pushing her face-first into the brick wall. He covered her mouth with one hand and she screamed as loudly as she could against it, praying that anyone would hear her.

She could hear him fumbling with his belt as he whispered in her ear, "Oh princess, I am going to love this and you know what? I bet by the end you'll like it, too." Tears of panic filled her eyes as she heard him unzip his pants, positive that her clothes were next. Just as she heard his pants hit the ground, a loud CLANG shattered through the night. The bouncer fell like a sack of bricks behind her to the ground. Free from his grasp, Betty let out a cry and almost collapsed before rough hands and sandalwood enveloped her to a warm chest.

She clawed against the sturdy warmth in terror, but a familiar voice rang true in her ear.

"Betty, baby, you're okay, I've got you. He's not going to hurt you, you're safe, I've got you."

FP's reassuring words broke down her resistance and she collapsed into him, holding onto him desperately as he ran his hands over her.

He pulled her back for a brief moment to look into her eyes, two huge thumbs swiping over her damp face, checking for injuries.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you? Baby, you've gotta talk to me."

With his hands still on her face, she nodded solemnly. Her hands gripped onto his forearms for strength.

"I'm okay. He was close, but he didn't. You made it just in time." FP quickly searched her eyes one more time and pulled her deep into his embrace. Almost instinctively, she nuzzled into his neck and wrapped her arms completely around his firm body.

"Thank fucking God," he murmured into her ear. His hand ran up and down her back, soothing her beyond comprehension.

She shot her glance over at the bouncer, his dead-weight sprawled on the wet pavement right next to the metal pipe that FP had hit him with. FP followed her line of sight and growled at the sight of the bouncer.

"Motherfucker, he's lucky he's not dead."

"He isn't?" Betty asked hesitantly. FP's thumb wiped a stray raindrop or tear off her cheek.

"No, I didn't hit him hard enough," he replied, still looking at her. "I've had enough murder accusations for one lifetime, I think."

Despite the events of the evening, Betty let out a low chuckle. "Ain't that the truth."

FP smiled that smile and was about to say something when they heard a door open and someone yell, "FP, you there?" from the front step. It snapped her out of the comfort zone that she had settled so neatly into.

FP yelled back, "Yeah, just a minute!" Betty quickly stepped out of his embrace. FP reached for her, but she quickly put her hand up to block him.

Stuttering against her adrenaline and sudden shyness, she said, "Thank you for helping me, Mr. Jones, but-"

FP cut her off with a deep chuckle. Taking a strand of her blonde hair between his fingers, he said with a smirk, "I think you can call me FP, Betty. You've seen me naked."

Her eyebrows shot toward her hairline and she gaped at his response. Smiling at the fact that she couldn't put together a retort, he stepped toward her, now just inches from her face.

"Listen, about last night-" he started when the front door opened again.

"FP! Seriously need you in here, man!"

FP's frustrated groan snapped Betty out of her sandalwood-induced trance and had her walking out of his path.

"It's fine, I have to go anyway," she said quickly, turning just after she saw the look of shocked disappointment in his eyes. She was halfway across the parking lot when she heard him yell after her.

"Betty!"

Overwhelmed with the array of emotion coursing through her body, she quickly jumped into her car, turned the key and drove off into the foggy night, leaving the White Wyrm, FP and Jughead behind her.


Betty immediately stripped out of her leather jacket to her tank and jeans, wet curls settling down her shoulders. The rain was coming down in heavy blanketed sheets now, but that didn't stop her from driving around Riverdale for the next two hours. She finally settled her car at the empty lot where the old drive-in once stood, wading through her thoughts and wondering what the hell had happened to her life over the last 48 hours.

She couldn't believe the way Jughead had acted earlier. She knew he was wasted beyond comprehension, but his feelings had to come from somewhere - somewhere she knew he had most likely buried them for the last few years. Toni was the breaking point, though. The fact that Jughead had turned to her through every rough time over the course of their relationship was the ultimate betrayal.

Then, of course, DILF-in-shining-armor comes swinging in, saving her and leaving her even more confused than before. She had never seen him as tender as he had been with her tonight. Where the hell had that come from? She wasn't sure, but thinking of him, beating her attacker to a pulp and then automatically comforting her had that warm, familiar heat pooling between her thighs, begging her to relieve the ache. She laughed out loud at herself, flabbergasted that she felt the need to masturbate after all the bullshit that had happened. Nipples straining against her ridiculous bra, she unhooked it from behind her and threw it into the back seat. She tweaked one, thinking about FP's hard body under her hands. She was about to lean back her seat and take care of the building pressure when she had what Ronnie would call a "come to Jesus" moment.

Shifting her head to the right, she realized that FP's trailer at Moccasin Manor was less than a half mile from where she was parked right now. Jughead had abandoned her tonight in her time of need, so why the hell shouldn't she abandon her inhibitionsand take care of her needs? Slightly crazed and bolder than she had ever been in her life, she opened her door and started jogging toward FP's trailer. Chills from the frigid air racked her body and forced her nipples to attention against her soaked tank. She picked up speed, desperate to get to where she needed to be, hoping more than anything that he would be there. Cutting through the trees and bushes, she saw the half-lit sign for Moccasin Manor nearing as she ran at full speed. The rain was pelting against her, rendering her tank basically useless. A flash of hope coursed through her as she saw the dim porch light on in the distance. She crossed the lawn and halted to a quick stop just feet from the trailer, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. Chest heaving, she looked at the door and thought of the man behind it. Was she making the right decision? A million "what ifs" raced through her mind, but the only two words that stood out to her were the ones she whispered quietly under her breath.

"Fuck it."

Betty quickly jumped up the steps, landing right in front of the glass screen door. Knocking fervently, she anxiously waited for what felt like ten years, but in reality was no longer than ten seconds..

The front door opened and FP stepped into view, shirtless and in soft, thin sweatpants. Goddamn, he looked incredible. His mouth dropped at the sight of her - and she was sure she looked a sight, soaked to the bone, panting and visibly aroused. Still regaining her breath, she took him in and saw that he was taking her all in. In that moment she knew that this was where she was meant to be.

Pushing her soaked curls off her shoulder, she looked up at him and asked, "Well...are you going to let me in?"

FP pushed open the glass door and hooked a finger in the waistband of her soaked skinny jeans. Eyes solemn and mouth just shy of a true smile, he pulled Betty toward her fate and closed the door behind them.