AN / Well, hey guys :) I've got the seven reviews, but what's weird is that people haven't been posting them publicly... I've been getting them as PMs... is that what we do now?

I can't believe this time next week I'll be getting ready for Christmas! I'm so freaking excited for it. Like next level excited. It might not be working out how I'd planned, which is sad in a way, but I'm sure everything I have planned now will be just as good, if not better. We've got our tree today and I'm sat by it while I'm editing this... it smells so amazing! I've got Home Alone on in the background and a bowl of popcorn next to me. I'm feeling soooooo Christmassy and I hope everyone else has a happy holidays!

Anyway... how is everyone? Do carry on getting in touch, because it makes my day to hear from you all. Shoutout to Changingdestiny40 for all the support and for giving me the idea that inspired me to write this.

Here's the latest instalment, I hope you all enjoy it! Thank you so much for all the support up to now, and please review when you've finished reading to make an English girl's Christmas that little bit merrier. Love you guys :)

Returning to Thistlehouse was not something Cheryl had awaited with eager anticipation. The memories lurking within the shadowy hallways of Thornhill and Thistlehouse were enough to make Cheryl's blood run cold, and as the red Tesla cruised along the winding roads towards her old home, Cheryl began to feel that omnipresent darkness of Thistlehouse threaten to flood her again, just like it had all those years ago.

The Blossom estates had always been secluded, distant from the down, which was possibly an explanation for the poor relationship the redheaded bloodline had with the rest of Riverdale's population. The dense forest surrounding them, separating the land of the smaller Thistlehouse from the main estate of Thornhill, only seemed to have grown thicker, and significantly darker with time.

With every minute the car travelled towards Thistlehouse, the thicker the forest around them got.

"Mom?" Jason asked, tapping his fingers against the dashboard. "How much longer?"

"Not long, JJ," Cheryl replied, pointing to a turn off a little down the road. "That's the turn to get to Thornhill, and Thistlehouse is about a mile after that."

"Who lives in Thornhill?" Jason asked, blissfully ignorant of the story behind the two Blossom houses, and completely oblivious to all of the Blossom family history except the existence of his uncle Jason.

Passing the turn off, Cheryl's grip on the steering wheel tightened. She fought the instinct to tell Jason that no-one lived there, because someone did. Someone lived in the recently rebuilt Thornhill who should have been rotting in the inside of a prison cell. After everything that happened twelve years ago, her mother should never have seen daylight again, let alone be released on the grounds of good behaviour and ushered back into a familiar life of luxury.

"Some old woman," Cheryl lied, gulping slightly as, when she looked through the trees, she could see a light on in the window of the mansion. "She's a nasty piece of work though, JJ, so we'll be staying well clear of her."

To call Penelope Blossom a nasty piece of work was a very succinct way of describing her. In cheryl's eyes, no words would ever describe how evil her mother was. The English language didn't justify the kind of person Penelope Blossom was, and it would never be capable of explaining her mother's actions all those years ago, of conveying the complete and utter terror of Cheryl's childhood and teenage years.

And even if it did, Cheryl promised herself she would not be unlocking the nightmares of her strained relationship with her mother and letting Jason see them. How could she possibly do that to her son? Jason was better off believing his grandparents were dead than knowing who they really were, knowing the truth about how the Blossom blood circulating his body could twist people, manipulating them into doing unspeakable things and definitely better than knowing that his grandmother was still haunting the town, still manipulated by that blood.

Remembering what Betty had said a few years ago on a fleeting visit to New York only confirmed Cheryl's opinion on the matter. The blonde had compared Penelope Blossom's return to Riverdale to the boogeyman, to the monster hiding in the shadows beneath the bed. Knowing she was there was scary, but only after nightfall. In the darkness, Penelope Blossom was a threat, an oppressive force skulking around town with vengeance pulsing through her veins.

But that vengeance, it had nobody to be directed at. Cheryl had vanished without a trace. Toni Topaz was keeping a low profile, and the Serpent girl was always surrounded by other ruffians, other members of that filthy, wretched gang. Just like her daughter, Toni Topaz was untouchable. There was nobody Penelope Blossom could unleash her wrath on and derive any form of satisfaction from doing so. Being out of that prison cell only smelled sweet when she was under the illusion she could seek revenge on her daughter, and learning that the only other remaining Blossom had dropped off of the grid had meant she was stuck in a newly rebuilt Thornhill, haunting the passages and lingering in the shadows.

That's what Cheryl reminded herself of when she caught a distant glimpse of a round window poking out of the oppressing mansion's roof in the rear-view mirror. She was too far away from that window to see inside it, too busy focusing on her driving to see the red hair, slightly greyer than it was eleven years ago, and a gloved hand touch the glass.

Maybe if she had been able to see those things, she wouldn't be feeling as secure driving down the road, because very few people drove down that winding road…

Pulling up in front of the ageing cottage, Cheryl turned to glance at the household that had, once upon a time, been her living nightmare. Like all Blossom properties, it was grand. It was oversized. It was designed to intimidate, to remind visitors of who its owners were, and the kind of power they had. It was dark and scary. Cheryl trembled slightly as she cut the engine off.

Wordlessly, she opened the car door and got out, walking up to that heavy oak door and unlocking it with the keys Betty had handed her in the office of the Register leaving Jason to follow, slightly confused by his mother's actions.

Stepping over the threshold, Cheryl let out an audible sigh of relief when she saw Betty and Jughead had made good on their promise. They'd completely renovated the inside of Thistlehouse. There was light downstairs. Gone was the dark, polished wood that jumped out of every corner, instead replaced by white and pine. The downstairs, much to Cheryl's delight, had been made open plan, with a massive, airy, kitchen fitted with polished work tops and, most importantly, a coffee machine. There was a breakfast bar with red leather stools at one end, and Jason climbed up onto a stool, swinging his legs round to get comfy.

"This place is huge, Mom," he gasped, spinning on the stool to take a proper look. "It's like one of the houses the Kardashians own!"

Cheryl chuckled lightly at her son's awe, relieved, first that he was happy with the house, but also that it bore no resemblance to the place it was eleven years ago. She opened up a few of the cupboard doors, trying to acquaint herself with her new kitchen. When they'd lived in New York, it had been Cheryl's dream to have a massive kitchen, and now it had come true. Grinning, she found a cupboard holding glasses, and she pulled out two medium sized ones, familiar from their home back in New York, filling them up using the dispenser on the fridge. Betty and Jughead had truly outdone themselves… or more accurately, Andrews' construction had done a phenomenal job.

"So I take it you like it here, JJ?" Cheryl asked, amused by her son. She watched as her took a sip from his water, nodding as he drank, before the small redhead all but jumped off of the stool to go look out of the bifold doors spanning one of the walls.

"Jeeeeeeez," Jason said, gazing out into the garden, "we have a garden?"

"That we do JJ," Cheryl mused, walking over to the doors and placing a hand on her son's shoulder. The garden was unrecognisable, just like the interior of the house. Neatly trimmed flower beds lined the large patch of grass, with a patio and a pool at the end. Cheryl grinned at the thought of the pool out there, already knowing how much Jason would love it.

"We could get a dog Mom!" Jason exclaimed, all but running around the rooms before collapsing on one of the large leather sofas. "Like a massive boxer or a Labrador or a husky…"

"Or a spaniel or a beagle, JJ," Cheryl suggested, "something small we could actually manage."

"Nah," he moaned, "something big! 'Cause bigger is better."

Cheryl stifled a giggle and a sob when she heard her son say that. The tone, the way his eyes rolled and how his voice caught, it was all Jason. It was like watching her brother at her son's age. Though JJ had never met his uncle, it was uncanny how alike the two of them were.

"Don't let's get ahead of ourselves, JJ," Cheryl chuckled, raising her own glass to her lips. "Now, why don't you run upstairs and see if Uncle Jug got your room right."

"Sounds good Mom," he agreed, but then pulled a face, "he was joking earlier wasn't he?"

"Joking?" Cheryl repeated. "What about?"

"My room," Jason stated. "He said he'd made it a princess room."

"Well, JJ, there's nothing wrong with princesses…"
"But I don't like princesses!" he moaned, "I like astronauts. And hockey. And guitars. And aliens. Not pink. Not princesses."

Laughing, Cheryl replied, "well I'm pretty sure your Uncle Jug knows that JJ, so I wouldn't be too worried."

Her son shot her a disbelieving look before running upstairs to check out his new room. Cheryl followed him, smiling when she saw how – just like with downstairs – the Jones's had replaced the dark wood doors and painted the walls a pale gold colour. It was relaxing, and very Cheryl.

Opening the door, Cheryl stepped into her son's room. He was in the box room, a room that had previously been her mother's study. It wasn't very big in comparison to all the others, but it was still bigger than the average room, and cosy enough that it didn't get too scary in the middle of the night like the rest did.

Jughead had left the walls painted white, instead choosing to put frames up. Within these frames, there were pictures of the things Jason loved. One had a photo of the NYC Rangers team from last season. Another was a framed Star Wars poster that Cheryl rolled her eyes on, cursing Jughead Jones for corrupting her baby boy.

Against one wall stood a desk, and above the desk was a corkboard, where Cheryl sensed Betty's influence. Pinned to the board where a few pictures, mostly of JJ and Cheryl, the picture of JJ and Jughead in ToysRUs stood by the massive Darth Vader and pretending to be stormtroopers, tickets from hockey matches and Broadway shows he'd been to. A few of the Pokemon trading cars her son was obsessed with. On top of the desk were a few cowboy figures, and on the shelves lining the other walls was the Lego collection JJ proudly owned.

Cheryl smiled softly at the room, knowing by the grin on her son's face that Jughead had done a great job there. Jason didn't even have to say anything to show how happy he was with his new room. Instead, he just sat at the desk and started playing with the cowboys.

"What do you think JJ?"

The young boy turned to shoot his Mom a toothy grin. "I love it."

Cheryl smiled back at her son and nodded. "I'm gonna go unpack in my room JJ, so I'll leave you in peace."

"Okay Mom," he replied, shrugging his shoulders as he turned his attention back to the figures in his hands.

Being back in Thistlehouse wasn't hurting Cheryl as much as she'd anticipated. Yes, it was hard, seeing the familiar corridors and rooms, but the fact it had been redecorated to disguise the dark, shadowy memories of the past lurking in the halls of the house made it a damn sight easier. Seeing Jason happy with his new home made her feel hopeful. Maybe this was the chance to do it right. It was her second chance. She was home. Back in Riverdale, where her friends – her real family – were. Here, Jason would be surrounded by tonnes of people who cared about him, could join the adventure scouts Dilton Doiley ran these days, could go out on walks and play in the garden, eat burgers at Pop's and hang out with his cousins. Cheryl smiled at that. Already, she knew how nice it was going to be to spend more time with Betty and Veronica. She might even make plans to see King and Katya again, because it had been far too long since the redhead had seen her favourite Russian and Texan. And then there was Toni…

Toni Topaz. Antoinette Topaz. Toni with the pink highlights and big brown eyes like melted chocolate. The Southside Serpent who'd stolen her heart all those years ago. The tiny girl with the dangerous motorbike that had always been far too big for her. Cheryl wondered whether Toni Topaz had ever quite grown into her motorbike. Judging by the other woman's height earlier, Cheryl suspected not.

So, Toni Topaz was photographer for the Register? Cheryl couldn't imagine a better career for her ex-girlfriend. Toni had always been vocal of her love for photography. Smiling slightly, Cheryl remembered that week they'd spent travelling the country, and how that Nikon camera, ancient even then, had always been swinging from the other girl's neck, always ready for her to take a picture in the opportunity arose. Cheryl wondered if Toni still had that camera, and suspected that if she did, Toni would probably use that to take her pictures. That thing had never failed Toni.

Not like Cheryl. Cheryl still bitterly regretted the day she stormed out of her grandmother's funeral and didn't return. She still felt the guilt pool in her stomach when the memories of the endless phone calls from Toni she refused to accept flooded her brain. She still hated the fact a month after leaving Riverdale she changed her number, cutting Toni Topaz out of her life completely.

There had been a few times over the years when Cheryl had thought she'd seen Toni around New York. For all it was a popular tourist destination, there were few people in the city with bubblegum pink highlights running through their hair. It was also pretty uncommon to see someone around Broadway sporting a Southside Serpent jacket. It had shaken her to the bones that day when she'd seen Toni for the first time since leaving Riverdale.

Almost eleven years ago...

That time, it had been nearly a year since the funeral. Cheryl was in the arms of John-Phillipe, standing in front of the massive Christmas tree at Rockefeller, snowflakes trapped in her fiery hair. It was freezing cold but he'd insisted he was taking her on a date, and they'd been ice skating and were planning to head to the Gershwin to see Wicked.

Toni Topaz had been in New York for nearly two days, searching all over in a desperate bid to find the redhead she loved. For Toni, time was running out. She'd attempted to search for Cheryl three times previously, visiting the city over weekends and school breaks, popping in and out of shops to show a picture of Cheryl from that day at Dinseyland, asking if anybody had seen the girl in the photo.

This time, she was frequenting tourist destinations, vividly remembering how Cheryl had once said she would take Toni to New York at Christmas. How she'd take her ice skating, how they'd dress up to go to the theatre, how they'd have breakfast at Tiffany's, how they'd see the tree… She'd been to all of those places, and she'd had no luck in the slightest.

Jughead and Betty had tried to put her off even going. They'd said it was stupid, and that trying to find Cheryl in New York was the same as looking for a needle in a haystack. But Toni didn't believe them. They'd tried to convince her that it was time to move on, to let go of the relationship she and Cheryl had once shared, because if the redhead hadn't come back or made any attempt to contact her, it was clear that she didn't want to be found. They'd said that Toni's efforts were wasted, that Cheryl Blossom was probably locked in the arms of somebody else, and that Toni deserved the same.

They said the past was something that she shouldn't cling to, that it was time to forget about Cheryl Blossom.

But Toni couldn't. How could she? How could she forget the girl she loved?

She'd stood by the tree for nearly an hour before admitting defeat, heading towards the road to hail a cab. Her destination? JFK. To travel straight to the airport and fly back home. That was the time she'd finally given up. It was a waste of her time. Cheryl Blossom had got her wish. The redhead had vanished, becoming – as she had put it – just another face in the crowd. But she wasn't anywhere to be seen in those crowds…

It was Toni's retreating form that Cheryl had seen that day. She didn't need to see the other girl's face to know who it was. Seeing Toni had made Cheryl's blood run cold. Seeing that Serpent jacket, it was a reminder. That she wasn't the girl she'd told the boy beside her she was. That she had a past. And that the past had finally caught up to her.

The past had made a visit to the present in the form of Toni Topaz, but as Cheryl watched the smaller girl walk away and climb into the back of a cab, the redhead knew that visit was fleeting, final even.

Why hadn't she ran after Toni Topaz that day? Cheryl asked herself that on what came to be a daily basis. She'd think of that in the middle of the night, waking up in a cold sweat and overthinking. Why did she let the love of her life slip through her fingers? Why had she cut Toni Topaz off? Every regret would attack her on those dark, never-ending nights. Every single bad memory, every fear, everything. Toni Topaz most of all.

That girl, with her bubblegum pink highlights, she was the only ghost of Cheryl's past that didn't make the redhead tremble in fear when she made an appearance in her dreams. Toni's voice was always soothing, but sad, distant. Waking up from those dreams just left Cheryl empty. It was like her brain already knew of the guilt Cheryl felt, determined to seek pleasure from torturing her by forcing her to think of Toni. She'd let Toni go despite the Serpent girl being the one thing she wanted.

That evening was going to be her chance to change that. Walking into her old bedroom and smiling at how Jughead and Betty had transformed it to mirror her room in New York, with the pale gold wallpaper patterned with scarlet red roses. A queen-sized bed still dominated the right hand side of the room, a four poster much like the one from before. Cheryl collapsed on the bed, sighing at how soft and comfy it was. Shaking the contents of her bag onto the bed, she picked up her phone, tapping the screen a few times before clicking on the picture of Jughead.

It rang for a few seconds before there was a click at the other end.

"Blossom?"

"Hey hobo," Cheryl joked, laughing slightly when she heard Jughead chuckle on the other end. For all they were close friends these days, Cheryl still enjoyed teasing the boy by using her old nickname from high school. "You've done a pretty good job on the house."

"A pretty good job?"

"A splendid one. Thank you. Me and JJ love it."

"Anytime Cheryl," Jughead replied. "Now, what do you want? I'm kind of busy at the minute…"

"I was wondering if maybe you and Betty would mind awfully if I asked you to watch JJ for a few hours tonight?"

"Babysitting, Blossom?"

"Please?" Cheryl whined, and she could feel Jughead's eyeroll despite being on the opposite side of town. "There's someone I need to meet up with…"

"Fine," Jughead groaned, "I'll come pick JJ up when we close up shop and take him for tea."

"Thanks Jug, I really appreciate it."

"Might I ask who you're meeting?"

"An old friend."

"How specific." Jughead muttered dryly. "I wasn't aware you had many friends."

There was a muffled snigger from the other end of the line and Cheryl felt her breath get trapped in her lungs. Jughead wasn't alone in his office. That much was certain. And that laugh… it didn't belong to Betty, or even Alice Cooper. Shit. That meant it was…

"By any chance might it be Toni Topaz you're meeting tonight?" Jughead asked, and Cheryl could hear the laugh in the background again. That laugh, it was Toni's, and Cheryl knew Jughead knew. "Come on, Bombshell, we're friends. We're grown ups, Cheryl, no need to be embarrassed."

Rolling her eyes, Cheryl groaned. "Well done, Sherlock."

"How cute."

"It's not like that," Cheryl rambled, "like we've barely spoken in over a decade so it'd be weird if it was like that, and she probably hates me and I wouldn't be surprised…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever Cheryl. Just dress nice and be ready on time. Don't get drunk. You'll be fine."

"How supportive."

"I'm always a supportive friend of yours, Cheryl, and don't you forget it," Jughead mused. "Now, I've gotta go, because the paper won't print itself. I'll pick Jason up at five."

"Thanks Jug. You're an angel."

"I'll remind you of that next time you call me a hobo."

"See you later Jughead," Cheryl chuckled before cutting the call.

Sighing, she put her phone back in her bag before getting up, wandering over to the wardrobe and opening the doors, her gaze locking onto the variety of clothes within it. She needed something good for that night, something smart but not too smart. Sexy but not slutty. It needed to be just right.

Pulling out a few outfits, Cheryl started to feel like a teenager again. It was all just a dress up game really, just like it had been when she was with Ginger and Tina all those years ago as sixteen year olds, slapping on makeup and heels so they could sneak into Riverdale's only club. It was the nerves in her stomach that reminded her that this wasn't a game in the same way it had been with Ginger and Tina. This was something much more real. And – even though she was beyond excited to see Toni – that was scary.

Still, she wasn't going to let the Serpent girl know that. She was Cheryl Bombshell, and there was no way she would be the one trembling…

A slight bit earlier…

To Penelope Blossom, seeing a red car in the distance was something of interest. After all, the only place down that road where one would drive to was Thistlehouse… and Thistlehouse had stood empty for elven years. At least, it had stood untouched until a few weeks ago when the Cooper daughter and her Serpent husband had been driving in and out. Penelope had presumed her daughter had gifted it to the couple. There was no point in Cheryl keeping hold of the property if she had no intention of living in it. But these last few weeks, more cars had been driving along those winding roads to Thistlehouse. More cars had driven up there, often followed by a few vans. The reason for that, Penelope Blossom had no idea. Unless… no, that couldn't be it. The old woman refused to consider that. There was no way that would be the reason people were driving there. After everything that had played out in the past and all the distance between her daughter and the town, it wasn't like Cheryl would return home. But then again, the car growing smaller in the distance was red. Red wasn't a common colour in Riverdale. Not these days. Her painted lips curled into a sneer at that thought. Red was a Blossom colour. And the only Blossom left was Cheryl.

Looking out of the window. Penelope Blossom let out an erratic laugh. That car, snaking its way towards Thistlehouse, that might be the sign she was waiting for. It might be the sign she was so desperately craving. It was her shot. Her chance at setting things right.

If that car was what she thought it was, Penelope Blossom might finally get to do what she'd wanted to do all that time ago…

AN/ DUN, DUN, DUUUUUN. The world's worst mother is not only free from prison, but back to her usual scheming self. What do you guys think she's got planned for Cheryl? Drop a review and tell me.

Thank you so much for reading this, and don't forget to follow, favourite and review so I can come back with the next part of the story :)