The only thing more irritating than a morning person is a morning person who assumes that the world is populated by other morning people.

The bright sunlight streaming into the tent was bad enough, but the sound of cheerful, off-key singing made Jughead groan and pull his sleeping bag over his head. There was a special place in his own personal Hell for early-morning singers. No one should be that happy before noon.

"Ron! You want some coffee?"

Well, maybe not all morning people were terrible.

"Depends. Do I have to get up or are you bringing it to me in bed?"

Ah. A kindred spirit.

He dragged himself out of bed and reached for his clothes, first putting his shirt on backwards and then looking at his socks in confusion, as if he wasn't sure which sock belonged on which foot. Giving up, he shoved his bare feet into sandals and stumbled out of the tent, yawning and scratching his head.

"Hey, good morning! Did I wake you?" Betty presided over the coffee pot, looking annoyingly awake and alert.

He grunted something that might have been a greeting.

She sighed. "God, there's two of you. Coffee?" Not waiting for an answer, she reached for an over-sized mug and filled it to the brim. "Sorry, we're out of IV drips. You'll have to take it orally," she quipped, passing it to him as he plunked himself down heavily at the picnic table.

"Ha ha." He took a grateful sip and sighed, inhaling the steam.

"Better?"

Another sip. "Mmm."

"Should I leave you two alone?"

"By all means, stay and enjoy the show," he teased, his voice still raspy with sleep.

Betty laughed. "Touche. You hungry? I believe I promised you breakfast."

"I'm always hungry." Jughead swallowed more coffee. "That's really good. I didn't think anyone else took it quite this black."

"I don't actually drink coffee," she held up a Nalgene bottle full of water and lemons, "but Ron doesn't function until her blood is three-quarters caffeine so I learned to make it her way. She says it's not real coffee until it matches her hair."

"A woman after my own heart. And you're seriously this perky and coherent and all you've had is lemon water?"

Betty rolled her eyes. "I'm not perky, I'm happy. There's a difference. Besides, it's a beautiful morning. Look at that sky! That's enough to wake anyone up."

"Huh. Fueled by sunshine and water... Is Betty your real name, or is it short for Magnolia Elizabeth?"

"Did you just call me a plant?"

"Maybe. If I did, will there be chili flakes in my pancakes?"

"Yes."

"Then no."

Betty folded her arms and glared.

"You're cute when you're mad." He ducked and shielded his face as she whipped a tea towel at him. "Alright, alright! I'm sorry! Truce!"

…

Jughead was polishing off his third stack of pancakes when Veronica finally appeared.

Betty had disappeared briefly into the girls' tent nearly an hour earlier, carrying a large carafe of coffee like a sacrificial offering to the gods, only to emerge giggling under an onslaught of curses and flying pillows.

"You're positively chipper in comparison," she'd told him. "Veronica thinks mornings were invented as a form of medievel torture that was never phased out."

"Weren't they?" He'd asked.

Given Veronica's reaction to Betty actually bringing her coffee in bed, Jughead couldn't help but be apprehensive about her inevitable appearance at the breakfast table. Her bubbly "Morning, all!" Threw him completely for a loop and he stared at her in shock.

"Mm, smells great, B. Are those blueberry pancakes?" Veronica poured herself another cup of coffee and sat down across from Jughead. "Morning, Jones. Sleep well?"

He glanced at Betty in confusion before answering. "Uh, yeah...like a baby, thanks. You?"

"Just fine," she chirped, sipping politely from her mug. "I always sleep well when we're camping. Must be the fresh air. Beautiful morning, isn't it?"

"Beautiful," he repeated, still staring.

Veronica cocked her head to the side. "What are you looking at? Do I have something on my face?"

"No, no, you look perfect." It was true; her hair was neatly arranged in elegant curls and her makeup was flawless from immaculate eyebrows to dark purple lips.

Veronica looked suspicious and glared up at Betty. "What kind of horror stories have you been telling about me?"

"Calling them 'horror stories' implies that there's some level of fiction involved." Betty dropped a kiss on Veronica's upturned nose and patted her head fondly. "You're a menace before you've had your coffee, V, and that's all I said." She flipped some pancakes onto a plate for Veronica, and silently offered more to Jughead.

He held out his plate, keeping a wary eye on Veronica as though he expected her to explode at any second.

Betty laughed at him and whispered in his ear as she served him more pancakes. "Don't worry, her safety's on. There was enough sludge in that carafe to fill four of the cups you had when you got up. She'll be like this for another hour, then she'll level out."

"Good to know." He poured syrup on his pancakes. "Did you see Archie this morning? He wasn't there when I got up."

"Yeah, he was just getting up when I came back from the shower hut. He said he was going for a run around the park. That was about half an hour before you got up, I think."

Jughead grimaced. "That sounds like him. Why anyone would intentionally inflict that kind of torture on themselves is beyond me, but he loves it."

"Betty's the same way," Veronica said. "She spends more time in the gym than she does in the kitchen, and that's saying something."

"Yeah, well you wouldn't want me to get out of shape, would you? I might drop you on your head one of these days."

"Speaking of which," Jughead interjected. "Admittedly, I don't know much about cheerleading, but aren't stunts like that usually done by three people?"

Betty nodded. "Two bases usually, or one if it's a guy. You'll sometimes see one girl and a spotter. But Ron and I have been practicing together for years, and she's teeny…"

"…and Betty's ripped." Veronica finished.

"That's a gross exaggeration. I was going to say that you're teeny and we started out practicing with a pull-up bar when we were kids. We've worked up to what we can do now."

"And as a result of that hard work, you're ripped."

Betty opened her mouth to argue, but Jughead cut her off. "Take the compliment, Betts. I know plenty of people who would love to have Veronica Lodge say that about them."

"Morning, guys!"

"Oh look, here's one now," Jughead whispered to Betty.

She giggled. "Think he picked that outfit on purpose?"

"That or he just forgot to get dressed."

Archie jogged up to the picnic table, sweat glistening on his exposed chest, and leaned down to stretch his legs.

"Good run, Arch?"

"Yeah! There are some great trails here. Cool playground too, good for pull-ups and the like." He raised his arms over his head and bent side to side. "How was your morning?"

"Oh, you know. Solved world hunger, saved the whales, won a Pulitzer." Jughead shoveled in some more pancakes. "Met Veronica's evil twin."

Archie laughed and looked over at Veronica, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. "Wow," he whispered under his breath. He cleared his throat. "Uh, good morning, Veronica. You look nice."

Her dark brown eyes slowly raked his flushed face and naked torso. "Likewise," she murmured.

Betty choked back a laugh, never surprised but always impressed by Veronica's brazen flirting. Jughead hid a sarcastic 'I told you so' grin behind his mug and winked at Betty.

"So," Veronica said brightly, "what are everyone's plans for today? I think I'll hit up the beach. Any takers?"

"I'm in," responded Archie enthusiastically.

"Of course, you are," sang Jughead, so quietly that only Betty could hear. She snorted and spluttered into her water.

Archie turned to her in concern. "You okay, Betty?"

She coughed into her elbow and waved her hand in dismissal. "Yeah, thanks, just fine. Inhaled some water, that's all. Can I interest you in some breakfast?"

"No thanks, I usually just have a protein shake in the mornings." He grinned ruefully. "Bachelor nutrition."

"Whatever works, right?"

"Yep," he smiled. "My mom doesn't think so, but she refuses to fly out here and make breakfast for me every morning so we agreed to disagree."

Betty laughed and began stacking breakfast dishes together. "The only path to peace, I guess."

"Are you coming to the beach, B?" asked Veronica. "We should head down there before the masses descend."

"No thanks. I really need to look at the truck, and then I want to go into town to pick up a few more groceries."

"Do we need more food? We're going home tomorrow afternoon," Veronica pointed out.

"Yes, and we've adopted two post-adolescent boys. I realize that you never had a brother growing up, but they eat a lot."

Jughead feigned indignation. "Hey now, I resemble that remark," he said as he deliberately swallowed a large mouthful of pancakes. "Anyway, the Rangers will be doing a tag check soon. The squatters will be sent packing and you can throw us out."

"Don't be ridiculous," Betty scoffed. "We're not tossing you out. I mean, you can go if you want to – far be it from me to butt in on guy time – but you're welcome to stay. What is it Caroline Bingley said to Jane? "A whole day's tete-a-tete between two women can never end without a quarrel" or something to that effect? I love Ronnie, but variety is the spice of life."

"Too true, too true. Aside from a couple of days with Kevin, we've been out here by ourselves for two weeks. By this point in the trip, we've usually resorted to crashing the children's activities at night. Last year we were two stickers away from becoming Jerry's Rangers." Veronica popped a blueberry into her mouth. "Besides, you two have kind of grown on me."

"A compliment of the highest order." Jughead looked over at Archie, who was giving him enormous puppy-dog eyes and mouthing 'please, please, please'.

Oh yeah, he had it bad.

"If you're sure you don't mind, we'd love to stay. We're buying the groceries, though."

…

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Jughead hovered near the pick-up truck that he was fairly certain pre-dated dial-up internet, and watched as Betty balanced on the bumper, waist deep in the engine compartment.

She pulled a wrench out of her back pocket and fiddled with something out of sight. "No, thanks. I'm almost done. It wasn't the transmission at all, just a couple of loose bolts." She wiped the wrench on a rag and slipped it back into her pocket. "Actually, could you start the truck?"

"Yeah, sure. Where are the keys?"

"Glove box."

"Of course, they are. Why keep the keys somewhere safe? Makes much more sense to store them right next to the lock that they're supposed to protect."

Betty stood up and peered at him over the hood of the truck, resting her forearms on it for balance. "Don't be a smart-ass, Juggy. I don't leave them there when we're not around."

Jughead put the keys in the ignition and stuck his head out of the driver's window. "Do I just start it? Parts aren't going to come flying out at you, are they?"

"Not if I did it right."

"Oh well that's comforting. When the coroner asks why Betty Cooper was killed by a flying gear shaft, I can say it was all her fault because she didn't do it right," he snarked as he started the truck.

The engine growled to life as only a diesel can do, and Betty smiled in satisfaction. "Looks good, sounds great. Thanks, Juggie! You can shut 'er down."

She hopped down from the bumper and closed the hood. "I'm just going to clean up and then head into town. Do you want to come or do you feel like joining Archie and Ronnie at the beach?"

"Are you kidding? I told them I didn't want to go because I had to work on revisions for my novel which I'm pretty sure even Archie knew was a bold-faced lie. I can't crash the party now. It could completely ruin the effect."

Betty peeled off her denim button-down shirt and wiped her hands on it, avoiding touching her white tank top. "Yeah, I figured that was a lie, but I assumed you just don't like the beach. Are you telling me that you were playing match-maker?"

"Got it in one, Cooper."

"Nice. So are you coming with me or do you actually have work to do?"

"I'm coming with you, of course. I told you we're buying the groceries."

Betty balled up her shirt and threw it at him. "You don't have to. I kidnapped you; the least I can do is feed you." She picked up her tool box and put it away in the bed of the truck. "Just give me ten minutes; I need to wash off this grease and get changed. Don't want to shock the good people of Maple Ridge by showing up looking like I lost a fight with a carburetor."

"Take your time."

…..

Archie broke the surface of the lake and shook his hair out of his eyes. He could see Veronica on the beach, sheltered under a floppy hat and enormous sunglasses, leaning against a back rest and completely engrossed in a novel. The beach was crowded with families enjoying the last long weekend of the summer, and the noise was deafening. Children shrieking, mothers shouting warnings, teenagers showing off. It was madness, and yet Veronica didn't look up once. She read on, turning the pages in a steady rhythm, lost in her own little world.

Archie wasn't the only one staring at her; her dramatic makeup and designer bathing suit were cover-worthy, but when combined with her pearls, her languid pose and her complete absence from reality, she looked like she'd been dropped straight out of 1940s Hollywood. Untouchable, cool, and flawless.

He made his way out of the water and plopped down on the blanket beside her, reaching for a towel to dry his hair.

"You're getting my book wet." She pushed her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and glared at him.

"Sorry," he apologized. "Although," he added, "that book looks like it's not exactly a stranger to water. I've seen enough rain-damaged textbooks to know what those wrinkles mean."

"I read it in the bath. The steam does that, over time." She idly turned a page and kept reading.

Archie leaned over to see the cover. "What book is it?"

"Anne of Green Gables. It was my favourite when I was little."

"I liked The Lost World."

"Conan Doyle or Chrichton?" she asked, closing her book and laying it down.

He looked at her in surprise. "No one's ever asked me that before. Most people go straight for Jurassic Park."

"I like sci-fi, and those are two of the best. I take it you'd take Professor Challenger over Ian Malcolm?"

"Definitely. I mean, they were both good books but I like the purity of Conan Doyle's. Just 4 people going on an adventure for the sake of curiosity and immortality. No capitalism, no hubris. Just a point to prove and a story to tell."

Veronica smiled. "And what a story. Pterodactyls in London and Iguanodons in Brazil. I always liked the passage about the boat trip, when they first leave the main river. It's beautifully written…can't you just picture it? It sounds like a Monet painting."

"You like Monet?"

"Doesn't everyone?" she laughed. "I went to see the Water Lilies when I was on Paris, once. The guards had to tell me to get out at closing time; I stood there for hours."

Archie propped himself up on his elbow and turned to look at her. "They're here, you know."

She sat up and stared at him, yanking off her sunglasses. "What do you mean, they're here?"

"Not the big ones," he amended. "JB hasn't shut up about it all summer; the art gallery in Vancouver is hosting a huge Monet exhibit right now; a few dozen paintings that aren't on permanent display in Paris. She's been 6 times."

"You haven't?"

"No. JB stayed here all summer but Jug and I just flew up from Riverdale last week." He shrugged. "I'm sure she'll drag us at some point. She thinks that I, at least, am seriously lacking in culture."

"Maybe I'll tag along."

…

"I'm telling you, Jug, she's incredible. I've never met anyone like her. She's brilliant and funny and mysterious and we like the same books and TV shows. And, she's probably the most gorgeous woman I've ever met. Don't you think?"

Jughead leaned against the log pile and watched Archie animatedly describe Veronica while trying to fill a heavy canvas bag with firewood. It was both sad and amusing; Jughead gently pushed Archie out of the way and took over the task. "Yes, Archie. I've been here all weekend, too, and it did not escape my notice that Veronica is very pretty, and has many other fine qualities."

"Don't be sarcastic, Jug. I'm serious."

Jughead whacked him playfully with a handy branch. "I know, you dork. Veronica's awesome and I figured out yesterday that you like her. You're way behind the times, man." He finished filling the bag and turned to head back to the camp site. "Betty approves, by the way."

"Dude. Why am I always the last to know these things?"

"You're just lucky you're cute. You know that, right?"