It was searingly hot. Betty had spent the entire day in an air-conditioned office, and when she stepped out of the building that evening she was hit immediately by a wave of heat. The air was still and muggy, and she felt a tinge of resentment at the idea of having to walk home in such extreme conditions.

The waterfront, with which she had become so familiar in her travels to and from the office, was calmer than Betty had ever seen. There was not a breath of wind. Endless numbers of people lined the walkway, seated on park benches and gathered in groups as they enjoyed the last of the sunshine. Betty stopped briefly to lean on a handrail and peer down into the water below. Her reflection stared back at her, resolute and unmoving. She reached up and smoothed down some of her more wayward pieces of hair, fighting a silent battle against the humidity.

She turned around, moving to re-join the walkway and accidentally walked directly into someone.

"Oh god…I'm so sorry," Betty mumbled, reaching out apologetically. She tried to hurry off, embarrassed, and then did a double take and stopped.

It was Jughead.

Betty stared at him blankly. It was partly the heat. The heaviness of it was muddling her thoughts and making her feel slow and lazy. This was further compounded by the fact that Jughead was not wearing his hat, and that she had never actually encountered him outside the walls of the Precinct apartment.

"Hey," he said, waving slowly in attempt to bring her out of her reverie.

Betty blinked. 'Hi," she breathed, still flustered.

"I thought that was you. You looked to be deep in contemplation."

"Yeah, something like that." They fell into step along side each other. Betty saw Jughead run his hand through his hair, looking equally bothered by the extreme conditions.

"Too hot for the hat, huh?"

Jughead glanced at her and smiled slightly in acknowledgement. "It's too hot to be alive. I think the world is ending."

Betty was starting to think the same thing. She could see people swimming in the water near the boat sheds that lined the waterfront. She'd been sceptical about this as a swimming location in the past, but never it had never looked like a more inviting prospect than right now. Jughead followed her gaze, appearing to consider the same thing.

"As much as I would love to throw myself in the harbour right now, you should know that there are far better swimming locations further out of the city."

"Really." Betty was surprised by this statement. Jughead certainly had not given any indication previously of having an interest in swimming - or any beach related activities for that matter. But then again, Betty supposed, neither had she.

"Yeah. It's really nice along the coast, bit further up, around the bays. Veronica, Archie and I used to go to a really great spot after work last summer."

"Can we go there tonight?"

"If you'd like. I imagine it will be pretty crowded. But Veronica and Archie would probably be keen."

Betty thought this was probably the most coherent conversation the two of them had yet. She wondered if it was because they'd stumbled across each other unintentionally and had been forced to figure out their dynamic in a different setting. Whatever it was, Betty found it strangely easy. There was none of the awkwardness she normally associated with encountering someone unexpectedly.

Precinct was in sight now, and Betty could think of nothing worse than spending an evening like this inside the apartment. "I would like that. Can we ask them?"

"Indeed." He winked. "Your wish is my command."

Seated between Archie and Veronica in the back of an Uber a short time later, Betty felt rather like she was embarking on a family vacation. She and Jughead had arrived home to find the others also complaining about the heat. There had been a short, somewhat intense debate about their means of transport, but no discussion at all about the destination. That, it seemed, was not up for consideration. It was a given.

As a by product of this conversation, Betty had learned that Veronica actually had access to a car. This was news to Betty, who wasn't even aware there was a car park in the building. Jughead had laughed at Betty's surprise.

"The reason you've never heard about Veronica's car is because she is the worst driver in the entire world," he'd quipped. "It's almost like she got her license in a raffle."

Veronica had not denied this, instead trying to justify it by explaining she'd had a driver growing up.

Jughead rolled his eyes at this protestation, and flat out refused to take take Veronica's car. "I want to us actually make it back to Precinct in one piece. I've already paid rent for the next fortnight. I don't want that to go to waste," he insisted. He had then proceeded to call an Uber, before herding them all out the door and into the elevator.

And now he was in the front seat, interrogating the driver about every aspect of his role as an Uber driver. Not content with having already discussed the company's structure, he'd now moved on to querying the role's profitability, and the associated tax obligations. Veronica, Betty and Archie gave each other knowing looks as this conversation unfolded.

Even as they left the apartment, shortly before 6pm, there had not yet been a drop in the temperature. Betty was sincerely grateful for the car's air conditioning. She watched the buildings disappear behind them as they left the central business district and followed the road that woundaround the coastline. She could see what Jughead meant when he'd referenced the change of scene. She'd been appreciative from the outset of relocating to a harbour-side city, but the expansive coast before them served only to amplify that.

Jughead had also been right, although she would forever be reluctant to admit that to him, in his prediction that it would be busy. It didn't take long for them to reach their destination, but when they did they were met with unprecedented crowds. Everyone, it appeared, had had the same desperation to escape the heat trapped in the city.

In the name of efficiency, Betty was grateful she'd worn her swimsuit under her clothes. No sooner than their feet had made contact with the sand, Archie and Jughead bolted for the water. Veronica and Betty followed, not far behind them. Betty wasted no time in wading in and diving in gracefully as soon as the water was deep enough. It was pure relief feeling the cool water wash over her and run through her hair. She resurfaced to find Veronica right next to her and felt herself smile widely, genuine exhilaration flooding through her.

Betty had always loved the ocean. There was something the sand and the salt and the way the waves broke over her that calmed her thoughts, flushing out even the darkest corners of her mind. She flopped back into the ocean and floated on her back, staring up above. The sun was getting lower, slowly slipping towards the hills, but there remained not a single cloud in the sky. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Veronica lie down and float on her back next to her. She reached out, clasped Betty's hand next to her and squeezed.

They floated there a moment longer until Veronica stood back up, pulling Betty up with her. "Better?" she asked.

Betty nodded at her, still smiling. "Can we do this after work every day?"

Veronica laughed, looking a little wistful. "I wish. I'm going to head back in now."

Betty nodded. "Okay. I'll see you in a bit."

As Veronica waded back towards the shore, Betty heard her name. She turned, shifting her gaze to where a floating pontoon was anchored. She could see Archie and Jughead standing on it, waving her over.

She swam a little further out to reach the floating pontoon, and then stopped to tread water in front of it.

"Hey," she said.

"Where's Veronica?" Archie asked.

"She went back in."

Betty paddled a little closer to the pontoon, aiming for the ladder, grasping onto it and hauled herself up. Jughead reached out and gave her his hand, helping her up out of the water. Betty felt the heat encompass her again. The water seemed to evaporate off her skin almost immediately, leaving behind it the tingle of salt. She reached up and wrung some of the salt water out of her hair.

"What an evening," Jughead sighed, sounding unusually content.

All theee of them stood side by side, staring out at the horizon, looking into the hazy distance where the ocean met the sky in multiple shades of blue. Betty felt a million miles from work and responsibility and the ever present nagging of her conscience. If she could stand here forever, her toes curled over the edge over the pontoon with the water sloshing over them, she just might.

Jughead reached out abruptly and shoved Archie, who fell forward and splashed into the water particularly ungracefully. He resurfaced, shaking the water out of his hair, and scowled up at Jughead, who merely smirked.

"Bro," Archie said, disgruntled, clearly feeling that had been unnecessary. He ducked back under the water, swimming around the pontoon, and headed back into shore.

Betty saw her chance. It was a fleeting moment, a brief window of opportunity as Jughead stood there complacently. He was on the edge of the pontoon, peering down at the sea. Betty reached out discreetly and pushed him. He lost his balance, toppling forward. He flailed for a moment, trying unsuccessfully to regain his balance, before grasping Betty's arm and pulling them both into the water.

They hit the water with a splash, sinking down in slow motion. The silence underwater filled Betty's ears. She felt Jughead let go of her arm, and her finger tips brush against his as the two of them kicked back up to the surface.

Betty resurfaced, blinking the salt water out of her eyes. Jughead was treading water directly in front of her, his head just above the surface. She found herself looking at him at eye level for the first time. He reached up and ran his hand through his hair, brushing it off his face. He was so close Betty could see every droplet of salt water clinging to his eye lashes. There was a newfound vulnerability in his eyes, and the intensity of his stare seemed to imprint upon her.

Betty gulped slightly, acknowledging the swarms of butterflies which had appeared in the moments since she'd resurfaced. She couldn't formulate cohesive thoughts. She wasn't sure where this was going, but she had an unnerving feeling he was about to kiss her. She broke his gaze, glancing down at the water to his left, her breathing shallow.

And then she ducked back under the water, and swam away from him in the direction of the shore.

The air temperature only started to subside as the sun slunk down below the hills, casting a pink hue over the evening sky. The four of them were sat next to each other in the sand, eating their burgers in silence.

Betty's calm, dream-like, ocean induced state had passed. She still felt a lingering sense of peace and contentment, but it was now tarnished now with the memory of Jughead, treading water in front of her, his green eyes piercing hers. She could still feel that sense of anticipation, like something had been about to happen. And that was troubling. It was troubling because she didn't know what it meant and she wasn't quite sure where it had come from and she and didn't know what was going to happen going forward.

Above all, she was scared that she'd done irreparable damage to their friendship. It seemed to her to be a lose lose situation – no matter what she did, it was going to be awkward. Betty saw Jughead every single day. They lived together, they ate together, they had mutual friends. She wasn't sure what would have happened if she hadn't swum away, but she knew for certain she wouldn't be able to take it back.

Jughead had been unusually quiet since they'd gone to collect their burgers. Veronica and Archie seemed not to have noticed, and for that Betty was grateful. But as she sat there next to them on the beach, their toes in the sand, Betty felt a familiar tinge of anxiety. Betty didn't want to ruin what she had with the three of them. The others came as a packaged deal. Betty was the outsider, and she was the only one at risk of losing everything if she screwed up.

Somewhere to her left, Jughead reached for his sweater and fished through the pocket looking for something. Betty watched out of the corner of her eye as he withdrew his hat. He put it back back on, adjusting it into place.

She couldn't help but feel like it was a pointed move, and indeed wonder whether it would ever come off again.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review, it would mean so much to me. Also, the rest of this is already up on Archive of Our Own if you're interested - findingbetty