First, thank you for the Guest review! I enjoyed hearing what stood out to you in the last chapter, and I hope you like this one also. :)

Second, thanks to Living Lucid Dream not only for all of the fantastic (inspiring) notes on BCBC, but also for picking up on the question of Brand's motivation for kicking off this sequel by taking Jughead to Toronto. Brand has certainly got a mind of his own... I've been blaming Roy for the way he plays this one close to the vest, but things will become clear in the story as they become clear(er) to Jughead (it makes me nervous even to type that much, though, because these characters LOVE to go rogue).

I hope you all continue to enjoy!

-Button

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Brand and Jughead told the police that they'd scared off some anonymous intruders. That they assumed they were thieves who had expected the house to be empty. That they hadn't gotten so much as a good look at them.

The police had given Jughead a careful once-over when they noticed the fading marks on his throat, but they let it drop with his reassurances and confirmation from his passport that he was over eighteen.

After they left, Brand and Jughead brewed coffee. It was five am and they were awake for the day.

"So much for bright eyed," Jughead smiled as he pulled out mugs for them both. He was strangely a lot less nervous about working with Jameson now that the worst had happened and been handled - right on their own home turf. "So what was all that actually about?"

Brand accepted the mug Jughead offered him. "Well… You know and I know that Jameson is marking territory with me. A few others probably know. Most people think I'm being welcomed, though. And if I'm in-"

"They're out?" Jughead frowned thoughtfully, sensing an opportunity. "Hey, if there's a shortage of work to go around, then I can just-"

"Not work. Territory." Brand was reminded yet again that Jones might have some hard-earned instincts for fighting after their months together, but a criminal he was not. "There's a difference."

"Then… am I going to get territory if I work?" Jughead tried to wrap his head around the distinction. "Or is it inherited? Or like a... feudal system?"

"I can't talk about this with you if you're going to say things like that," Brand shot Jughead a look.

"Primogeniture. Fiefdom. Serfs." Jughead grinned at Brand's irritation.

"Now you're just making things up," Brand joked back. He poured himself some coffee while considering Jughead's questions and what exactly he wanted to tell him. "Ideally there's some sort of… heir apparent in these situations."

"But it looks like it might go gavelkind sometimes, and people get nervous?"

"Will you stop saying-" Brand hesitated for a moment. Putting it in terms the kid would be comfortable with was not the worst idea. "Well, okay, maybe. Kind of. But not really." Brand glared at Jughead's apparent amusement. "It's more like a bunch of factions turning on their own."

Jones liked to find humor where he could, which admittedly might help keep the kid sane, but it sometimes had the side effect of him not taking things seriously enough for his own good.

Jughead was still grinning as he poured himself some coffee.

"If you say anything like that to Jameson he'll probably shoot you in the head," Brand warned. "Gavelkind. My god."

"You want me to get into a good college, Brand," Jughead shrugged innocently.

"Yeah, sure, college. Not Westeros."

"A place that might have benefited from some gavelkind-,"

"That's enough." Brand shook his head. "Drink your coffee."

"I might not be bright eyed, but I'll be bushy-whatevered," Jughead lifted his mug of coffee toward Brand in a toast.

Brand smirked and started pulling out eggs and bacon for breakfast. Protein wouldn't hurt, whatever was in store for later that day.

'Gavelkind,' Brand's smirk grew slightly. The kid had a sense of humor that just hit him sideways sometimes. He had to admit it had been quite the bailout the night before, too. Jones might not have any criminal instincts whatsoever, but he was becoming more valuable by the day.

Training a sidekick had never been the plan. Brand could appreciate the obvious advantages, though, now that he was being pushed into more training by Jameson's demands. Plan A was not defunct, either; all they needed was to get through this situation with Jameson before they could return to their regularly scheduled programming. Brand would be keeping a close eye on Jones in the meantime.

He had no intention of losing the kid if he could avoid it.

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Alice was in Riverdale and bored out of her mind. She was incredibly disappointed that she had missed Jonas in Toronto, and when Veronica had confessed that she'd hoped that Jonas would be around to take Alice to a school event - well, that had made her miss him even more.

Betty and Veronica had been particularly moody lately, since apparently Veronica's boyfriend and Betty's best friend (however that worked) had left town without any warning for some sort of spirit quest having to do with the dead friend nobody wanted to talk about.

Alice couldn't think of much that could be more depressing, and that kept her from wanting any more details. Thankfully she did have another trip to see her dad to look forward to. She recalled the note she'd left, wishing she'd received a text from Jonas but remaining hopeful all the same that he'd meet her at the park.

Entering Pop's Chock'Lit Shoppe, Alice waved when she saw Kevin. He was friends with Betty in particular, though she hadn't had a chance to get to know him well yet. There was an attentive Southside Serpent in the booth with him, who must be the famous Joaquin. Kevin waved back with a smile, and the Serpent looked over indulgently but without much apparent interest in the new girl.

"Want to sit with us?" Kevin invited. So much for the Serpent's disinterest; Alice could see in a glance that he would not object to any expressed desire of Kevin Keller's.

"Sure," This was at least less boring than most of the interactions she'd had this week. Alice walked over to their table.

"I'll get going." The Serpent finally acknowledged Alice with raised eyebrows and a nod as he stood and offered his seat to her. "I'll call you tonight, Kevin."

"You better," Kevin's teasing threat was entirely disarmed by his grin. Or perhaps that grin was his weapon. Alice looked from Kevin to the Serpent and wondered if they were as aware of their own relational dynamics as literally everyone around them must be.

When Joaquin's face finally relaxed into a smile before he left, Alice decided they probably didn't give much thought to what others were thinking or doing. It made her heart ache to see their intensity.

"So," Kevin focused entirely on Alice as his boyfriend exited the diner. "How are you doing now that you're getting the full Riverdale experience?"

"Besides feeling like I'm intruding on a really long wake for someone I've never met, it's been okay. Boring, but okay," Alice shrugged, but suddenly wondered if she'd overstepped when she realized she had no idea what Kevin's relationship had been to the dead guy. "No offense."

"None taken, believe me," Kevin's friendly smile was admittedly powerful when it was turned on her. Alice returned a smile of her own. "Riverdale can be boring when it's not insanely full of drama." Kevin glanced around the diner and then lowered his voice when he continued. "Sorry about the wake feel, too. It's been kind of intense having a 'missing person' and all. Personally, my vote is for a funeral so we can get some closure."

"Missing? I thought he just died."

"Oh my God, nobody told you," Kevin looked stricken. "Betty didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?" Alice was concerned by how serious Kevin looked and sounded, but she was also a tiny bit thrilled after having been so bored: this was clearly going to be pay dirt.

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It took some doing, but Fred got his work covered for a few days and was driving to Montreal. He would be arriving relatively late in the evening, but FP'd had no choice but to agree to meet him for a late dinner and discuss not only his plans for locating Brandon and Jughead, but also his heretofore undisclosed plan for bringing Archie back over the border safely by the end of the week. Fred was trying to be understanding of Archie's impulsive decision, but he was revving up for a talk with more than just FP.

A beautiful sunset lit up the sky as he drove, and despite all of his frustrations Fred couldn't help himself: he had to give in to FP's insistence, just for a few moments, and wonder if Jughead actually was alive somewhere - maybe even relatively nearby - seeing that same sunset and performing his usual routine of fighting tooth and nail not only to keep his own head above water, however the deck might be stacked against him by family and circumstances, but also to fight injustice and take up unlikely causes with his astonishing combination of energy and devotion.

Fred had always admired Jughead's ability to bound so far past any form of self-pity that he could be counted on as one of Riverdale's most involved citizens. Jughead and Betty had been a great pair for that, even when neither of them could yet see that there were some approaches that worked and there were some approaches that just created more noise without actually effecting any lasting change. That good sense would come with time, experience, and maturity - three things Fred fervently hoped Jughead would be granted.

And this sunset. Fred hoped he was granted the gift of seeing that too.

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Jughead was indeed noticing the sunset. He was confused, tense, and more than a little hungry, but the room he'd been taken to in the marble mansion had a great view to the west.

As it turned out, Jughead had been sent to deliver a car and some information - none of which he was privy to, but carried as though his life depended on it not being lost - and apparently he would be brought back to Jameson by the end of the evening and then sent back to Brand. There were far too many opportunities in that chain of custody for things to go wrong, but so far the process had gone as smoothly as could be hoped. Then he'd been taken to this ornate room with the gorgeous view sometime before noon.

There he'd waited. And waited. Whatever the information was, it apparently did not just require a reply - it required some kind of all-day board meeting with the courier kept on site, waiting nervously for his ride back.

"Beautiful, no?" A voice from the doorway startled Jughead.

Now apparently someone deigned to talk to him.

"Uh, yeah," Jughead ducked his head in a brief nod. "It's a nice view."

"Are you hungry?" The man was older, and though his white hair was balding, he was impeccably dressed and had an air of being master of the house. This very impressive house.

"Always," Jughead replied before realizing he probably sounded a little too eager. "Um, if it's not any trouble or anything."

"Not at all," The man gestured expansively for Jughead to precede him out of the room where he'd been alternately pacing and sitting for more than six hours now. "I think the cook would enjoy having someone different around for an evening. Then we can probably get you on your way."

If Jughead had known the choice was between dinner or getting home right away, he might have answered differently. It seemed to be too late to get out of it now, though, and he resigned himself to having dinner with this nice-seeming man. Then he'd get back to Jameson, and finally back to Brand.

Jughead's breathing had been a little tight all day, but once again it eased as he silently talked himself down. He could do this; it wasn't even difficult work. Not really.

"I do have a few questions for you, if you don't mind singing for your supper just a bit," The grandfatherly gentleman smiled warmly as they reached an elaborate dining room.

Jughead thought he smiled with a few too many teeth. Oh well; there was nothing he could do about the situation at this point. He didn't know anything, anyway. Everyone had made very sure of that at every step along the way.

"What do you want to know?" Jughead tried to appear confident and at ease. He sat down at the long table and noted with discomfort that there was a lot of silverware. That suggested the dinner would take some time.

"How well did you know Clifford Blossom?"

Jughead's head snapped up so quickly he felt like he might have given himself whiplash. "Who did you say you were?"

"I didn't. I'm Dominic Rose, of the Montreal Roses." The man raised an eyebrow significantly.

"I mean, how do you know about Clifford Blossom? Or that I-," Jughead realized he should probably stop talking before he said far more than he meant to.

"The Montreal Roses," Dominic repeated, as if that answered Jughead's question. He waited a beat. "Oh dear, you really have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"Pretty much," Jughead smiled weakly.

"Shall we get you back, then?" Dominic stood abruptly from the table. "I see no need to prolong this meeting."

'Meeting?' Jughead shrugged off the word choice; he was only too happy to leave as soon as possible.

"That's fine with me," Jughead kept his tone friendly to avoid giving offense. "Thanks anyway."

"Peter will see you home," Dominic waved Jughead down a long hallway, toward a man in a suit. Apparently he'd be the chauffeur.

"Thanks," Jughead willed himself not to run. He was so close to being done.

"One last thing," Dominic's voice had an edge to it that stopped Jughead in his tracks.

"Uh, yes?" Jughead asked, turning reluctantly to face the man again.

"If anyone asks, we never met. Let's just keep it that you have no knowledge of the Montreal Roses."

This time there were definitely too many teeth in his smile. Jughead suppressed a shudder as he nodded his acquiescence. "Sure. I understand." He didn't, but he also didn't care. He was so close to getting home.

"It was lovely meeting you," Dominic dismissed him then and returned to the dining room.

This time Jughead did pick up his pace as he traversed the long hallway. The beautiful house felt more and more like a mausoleum with every step.

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Brand had known there wasn't going to be an ETA. He'd never expected updates along the way, as if this were a flight or a surgery. This was turning out to be a long day, though.

Maybe it was time to get Jones a cellphone.

It sounded insane, even in his head, but a cheap phone without internet capabilities - it might be the tool they needed now that this new relationship with Jameson had begun in earnest. Brand could probably figure out how to track its location, too, though it was likely that Jameson would object if that became known…

Brand's thoughts continued along those lines even as he straightened up the kitchen and set the table. Jones would probably be hungry when he got back. He'd been gone since ten this morning and it was nearly eight pm.

The front door opened and Brand stopped himself from moving toward it. "Jones?" he called. "You back already?"

"I'm back." Jones' voice was uncharacteristically subdued.

"Are you okay?" Brand did move toward him now.

"That was one of the most boring, stressful days I've ever spent," the teen declared. "But you were right. It was easy."

Brand felt his muscles relax. It had gone well. So far so good. "You hungry? I've got pizza."

"Oh yeah," Jughead's spirits seemed to return to him a bit when he saw the plates set out. "I haven't had anything to eat since I left this morning."

"We'll debrief later. First, food," Brand began dishing up dinner. After serving them each several slices of pizza he filled two glasses with water.

"Brand… who are the Montreal Roses?" Jughead had decided that he was too curious to let the strange interaction go, though he had not mentioned it to Jameson during that debrief.

Brand dropped the glasses. They shattered on the kitchen floor, and Jones yelped in surprise.

"Why?" Brand only needed two long strides to bring him nose to nose with his charge. "Who's asking?"

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Jameson was sitting in his home office waiting when Daniel arrived at 11:30 pm. This was a later summons than Daniel was used to, and that irritated him slightly - not that he would let on to Jameson.

"Tell me… why wouldn't Rose gut our messenger like a fish?" Jameson folded his arms.

The question seemed rhetorical. Apparently Jones was still alive.

"I finally decide to tie up some loose ends such as his Toronto house-" a thorn in Jameson's side for years now, "and I even send a car to drive him out of town. A Ford. He sends the messenger back, not only alive but complaining that he got bored." Jameson hadn't let on to Jones how irritated he had been by that particular comment.

"He said what?" That did sound unbelievably brazen in the context of such a dangerous job. Jones either had nerves of steel - or no idea who he'd been dealing with. "How in the world does Brand manage to surround himself with these sorts of people?"

"You think this is all Jones?" Jameson's expression turned thoughtful. "I suppose that's possible. I was thinking this might have more to do with Brandon, though. Brandon and Rose."

If Rose was colluding with Brand, they were in deep, deep trouble. Daniel made a snap decision to lead Jameson away from that conclusion while he personally - quietly - investigated that possibility; nothing would be served by ending up on the wrong side of that alliance. "I think the kid is a curiosity, yes. So maybe he gets away with more. I wouldn't read too much into it."

"Should I be more curious?" Jameson was perplexed. "He's just a kid. If not for Brand, he wouldn't be here. Unless he's more than a pet or some sort of insurance policy. Who is Jones? That's got to be a pseudonym, right? Such a generic name."

Daniel had recognized a tinge of paranoia in Jameson for a few weeks now, and was increasingly uncomfortable as it seemed to take root in his boss. Paranoia meant poor decision-making. That meant deadly errors. "He's nobody from nowhere. Trailer trash from a forgettable town where Brandon holed up for a while. He was handy, nothing more, and I don't think we need to overthink this." Most of that Daniel knew to be true; the rest he made up to reassure his agitated employer.

"I don't pay you to 'think' things; I pay you to know," Jameson glared now. "Find out what you can. If we need to separate Brandon from his young assistant for a while, let's do that. I want you monitoring this closely."

"I was already planning to do exactly that," Daniel said truthfully. He'd begin a deeper investigation right away. Brand and Rose; that truly would be an unholy alliance.

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It had been a really long day, even though boredom had ended up being the most overpowering element Jughead had been forced to endure. His sleep had been disrupted by the dramatic invasion of their home turf the night before. Jughead was also very distracted by Rose's mention of Clifford Blossom and the implication that he knew more about Brand, Jughead, and Riverdale than anyone in this area should.

That was Jughead's best and only explanation for why he did everything wrong - everything that he fully knew better than to do when Brand was worked up.

"Is there something you need to tell me?" Jughead folded his arms defiantly as he spoke, answering Brand's question with one of his own. He had spent all day waiting on the pleasure of people who had power over him and a grudge against Brand, and in this impulsive moment Jughead recognized that it was possible he resented that. A lot.

"Who... mentioned... the Montreal Roses?" Brand growled out the words, having grown unaccustomed to needing to repeat himself in this house over the previous months. He was still nose to nose with Jones, which made it more obvious than ever that the teen had grown; he was getting closer all the time to matching Brand's height, if not yet his slightly more muscular build.

When Jones didn't back down immediately, Brand was surprised to recognize in him a bid for dominance - even though it was unclear whether Jones was aware of it.

To Jughead it didn't feel like snapping, or like a straw breaking a camel's back, or any other description he'd ever read. He suddenly just felt tired and so, so over being pushed around. Without any fanfare or dramatics, Jughead very deliberately turned his back on Brand and stepped away from the conversation.

"Oh, you think this is how it is now?" Brand's laugh sounded sincerely filled with humor, which probably should have stopped Jughead in his tracks.

Instead, Jughead picked up a slice of pizza, took a bite, and chewed slowly before setting the remainder of the piece back down on his plate. He'd have this conversation with Brand when his godfather had given him a minute, calmed himself down, maybe spoken civilly-

"Yeah, here's how this is going to go," Brand didn't walk over to Jones so much as stalk. "You're going to tell me from start to finish everything that happened and everything that was said today, and then you're going to your room to think about how many times I've earned your respect," Brand reached Jones and grabbed his right, injured arm by the wrist, "how often I've taken time out of my busy day to teach you," Brand grabbed Jones' other wrist as his hand came up automatically to protect his injured shoulder, "and where you'd be - where you still could end up - if I didn't keep three steps ahead of everyone else where you're concerned."

Jughead had been able to ignore his massively bruised shoulder through most of the day, but as Brand forced his hands down to his waist and then behind him, against the granite top of the kitchen island, he could feel that even the slightest resistance against Brand in this position would reignite the blinding pain from having been pistol-whipped the night before.

Brand took another step forward, now uncomfortably close to Jughead and able to simply lean forward onto his grip on Jones' wrists, causing a shocking, crushing pain as the fragile bones and joints ground against the sharp edge of the stone countertop.

"Brand, wait, no - I-," Jughead spoke up quickly, gasping in pain and feeling the return of the fear he'd somehow - stupidly - forgotten was key to navigating life with his godfather.

"Shhhh," Brand leaned forward slightly and the increased pain from his wrists made Jughead writhe in his godfather's agonizing grip - and then freeze when his shoulder erupted with an even more potent pain in response to his movement. "Relax, Jones. You're right; you really should have a few minutes of peace and quiet before I grill you about your day."

Jughead searched Brand's eyes for any hint of how to placate his guardian - but he sensed that it would be a mistake to say anything more at the moment. Brand would let him know when he was ready to continue their conversation, and was clearly relishing the power to dictate terms. A power he lacked elsewhere in Toronto, it seemed.

Seconds slowly passed, and Jughead found himself arching his back awkwardly over the island in an effort to buy back even a few inches of breathing room.

"Are you sure you're comfortable?" Brand underscored his sarcastic comment by leaning forward again. Jughead felt more than heard a choked noise come from his own throat in response to the excruciating movement. "Hey, hey, shhhh," Brand said again. His tone was gentle, as if he were calming a frightened animal, but he didn't try to hide his expression of satisfaction. "We've got all the time in the world for you to learn what happens when you try to call the shots around here. There's no rush."

Jughead turned his face away from Brand as his eyes filled with helpless tears. Nothing felt broken yet, but Jughead knew that could change in an instant.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Jones," Brand's voice was dangerously soft now. "I think you know that by now. I think you also know that there are only two ways for this to go: either you do what needs to be done, or I'll have to make some tough decisions."

Jughead knew that in Brand's world he really believed that he wasn't hurting him by trapping him here, forcing him to the limit of his ability to choke back cries of pain, and marking him with what had to be vicious bruises on his wrists. In Brand's world it was only 'hurting' if there was permanent damage, actual threat to life and limb.

In Brand's world this was a mild warning - a creative variant of a slap on the wrist - to remind him not to lose sight of the much bigger dangers outside of their row house.

Jughead really needed to remember that he lived in Brand's world.

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That's a chapter! It feels greedy to even ask for more reviews this week, but what the heck - they always inspire, and they are always deeply appreciated. I hope you have a great start to the week!

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