If two months ago someone had told Betty that her move to the city would see her skip work to nap during the day and kiss her roommate in the middle of a busy public walkway, she wouldn't have believed them. It was funny how things changed.

In fact, it was also funny how her whole perspective on life seemed to have changed. In the several days that had passed since that afternoon, Betty had thought of almost nothing else. She carried it around with her everywhere she went. Kissing Jughead had not outwardly changed their relationship as such, but it had certainly had a profound effect on her. He had kissed her back. And that was definitive proof of what she now realised she'd been hoping for a while. Jughead liked her. Now that she knew this vital piece of information, everything had suddenly become glaringly obvious. She wasn't sure how she'd managed to miss it before.

Betty found herself noticing things she'd clearly been blind to for sometime. Things that explained Veronica and Katelyn's insistence that he'd possibly kind of maybe liked her all along. There was something about the way he watched out for her, and the little things he did for her, and the way he made her laugh. They held new meaning for her now. As much as she tried to think about other more pressing things, she found herself overcome with giddy with happiness at unexpected moments throughout the day, swarms of butterflies tickling her insides insides.

And actually, all she really wanted was another opportunity to kiss him. She didn't think that was too much to ask. She found herself dreaming up scenarios in which neither of them had any responsibilities or commitments or duties, and they had all the time in the world, and Veronica and Archie were conveniently absent, and -

"Betty!"

Betty was jolted abruptly out of her reverie. Unfortunately, this summery Saturday morning, was that was not going to present that opportunity. Veronica was stood next to her in the kitchen, staring at her expectedly.

"Huh?"

Veronica looked mildy amused. "I was just saying," she repeatedly slowly, "do you want to help me?"

Betty hastily rearranged her face into what she hoped was a slightly less vacant expression. "Oh!" She exclaimed, slightly flustered – a not uncommon occurrence these days. "Yes. Of course."

"Great!" Veronica beamed at her, before skipping back down the hall.

Betty glanced warily at Archie, who was seated across from her at the breakfast bar. "What am I helping with?"

Archie shook his head at her, grinning. "Arranging Veronica's new furniture. It's being delivered soon."

"Oh. That's right. Great." Betty paused, vaguely remembering a recent conversation to this effect, and wondering if it was too late to get out of it. She now remembered she'd learned earlier in the week that Veronica was expecting delivery of a new piece of furniture. This not not an especially interesting revelation. Veronica bought things everyday and Betty was becoming increasingly aware that furniture was just one of those things that seemed to be part of growing up. That said, it was somewhat intriguing in that fact that Betty hadn't been able to ascertain what the delivery actually was. Jughead had been sarcastically referring to it all week as 'The New Piece of Furniture' and Betty didn't want to further aggravate the situation by asking Veronica.

She looked sceptically at Archie. "Do you know what is?"

Archie shrugged. "I… don't like to ask."

Clearly, Betty was not alone in her view of this.

Jughead sauntered into the kitchen, and Betty froze momentarily, immediately grappling with the conflicting array of feelings that seemed to overcome her every time the two of them were in a room with Archie and Veronica. Which was, as one might expect, fairly regularly. It was a combination of nerves and anticipation and excitement, but also the slightly guilty fear of being found out. Betty knew she hadn't done anything wrong, but it didn't make it any of these feelings any easier to escape.

Jughead nonchalantly bounced the ever controversial basketball once on the kitchen tiles to announce his arrival. "Hi friends."

Archie grinned at him. "No hoops in the kitchen, bro."

"Is she still mad?"

"That you hid her keys in the fruit bowl? Amongst other things, yup."

Jughead looked at Betty, a slightly sheepish expression on his face. "Oops." He tossed the basketball casually across the kitchen at Archie, who caught it, and hugged it to his middle in a display of finality. Jughead looked hopeful. "Do you think if I help her assemble The New Piece of Furniture she'll forgive me?"

Betty pressed her lips together, equal parts disapproving and amused.

Archie shrugged. "You can try."

Betty was not sure this peace offering was going to suffice. Nonetheless, she watched with mild interest when the intercom rang half an hour later, and an oversized brown package was subsequently carried into the living room. Veronica assembled Archie and Jughead who, under precise instruction, assembled the package's contents. Betty marvelled at how this mundane task could take up the entirety of one's morning, and found herself wondering yet again if purchasing and assembling furniture was really a fundamental aspect of growing up.

As it transpired, it was an L shaped couch. And it would play a crucial role in he living room. Or so Veronica said. Betty was inclined to agree with Jughead's view that it was actually just an 'unnecessarily pretentious couch', of which they already had two. But she wasn't about to voice that opinion out loud.

This distinction, however, was the least of their problems. More problematic was that fact that, according to Veronica, it was the wrong L shaped couch. And most problematic of all was that it was presently stuck in the entrance to their apartment.

"We don't really want people coming in here anyway," Jughead said casually, he, Archie and Betty staring at the apartment entrance. Or rather, what was still visible of it, for most of the doorway was obscured from view. Down the hall, Betty could hear Veronica having a heated argument over the phone. Betty had very much been a strong advocate of disassembling the couch before they tried to take it back down to the ground floor. But then, as Jughead had pointed out, it was not her that had just spent the last hour putting it together.

"What if you turn it around?" Betty suggested, hopeful that this may at least allow access to the apartment.

There was a long silence while Archie and Jughead contemplated this.

"Bother," Archie said eventually. "I think she's right."

Betty shot him an unimpressed look at his reluctance to acknowledge her input, stepping back as Archie and Jughead attempted to manoeuvre the ungainly piece of furniture back into the hall.

Their second attempt was much more successful, something Betty observed with a degree of smugness. Not only had they managed to actually exit the apartment, they'd also made it around the corner to the elevator entrance. Much to Archie's annoyance, Jughead hadn't been able to stop himself yelling "Pivot! Pivot!" as they'd done so. But nonetheless they had made it.

Betty stepped into the open elevator, placing her hand out to hold the door while the others followed her in.

It was at this moment it occurred to Betty that the Precinct elevator wasn't really designed for three people and a piece furniture of this size and shape. Somewhere on the other side of the couch, was Archie struggling with the door, cursing quietly. Betty was wedged between the the wall of the elevator and Jughead, his arm pressed up against hers. The hairs on his arm were faintly ticklish, and Betty could feel a nervous energy building inside of her; so strong she almost wondered if Jughead could feel it himself. She felt his arm twitch slightly, and then he reached for her hand, weaving their fingers together and squeezing gently.

She squeezed back.

Betty heard the doors close, the downward motion of the elevator only serving to emphasis the already swooping sensation in her stomach. She, sighed, resigned to the fact that this task was clearly going to take up the remainder of her morning.

Spending her entire afternoon in Ikea with Veronica was yet another thing that had not been part of Betty's plan. But somehow, all four of them had embarked on this mission to obtain Veronica's rightful couch together.

A shopping trip orchestrated by Veronica was never going to be destined for efficiency. Unhelpfully, she and Archie had disappeared some time ago to investigate lamp shades, a pursuit Betty very much suspected Archie did not care for. She also very much suspected Jughead of having run away about this time. And so, Betty had been left to browse alone. When she had exhausted examining all the possible wardrobe organisers she didn't need, she moved on to inspect beds. She'd been lucky, she thought to herself, that her room had come fully furnished, because it turned out beds were extortionate. She flopped down onto one under the guise of testing it out, but with no real intention of getting up any time soon.

Betty pulled out her phone. She scrolled mindlessly through her Instagram account for a moment, before remembering she'd been going to text Archie and query he and Veronica's whereabouts.

The mattress lurched unexpectedly, and Betty sat up quickly in surprise to find that Jughead had collapsed unceremoniously on the bed next to her, and was staring up at the ceiling.

"Oh!" she said, her surprise subsiding slightly. "It's you."

Betty lay back down, staring up at the ceiling as well.

"Veronica's buying the whole of Ikea," Jughead said, his voice sounding pained.

Betty giggled. "I know."

Jughead sighed loudly, and a comfortable silence ensued.

Sometime later, he cleared his throat. "This bed is comfortable as fuck. She should just buy this instead," he observed.

Betty turned her head slightly to see that his eyes were closed. His mouth was slightly open, with his lips parted, chest rising and falling gently. His hat had slipped off ever so slightly when his head hit the pillow, revealing his dark hair to be ruffled underneath. Several tendrils had escaped entirely and were falling over his face. He looked unusually peaceful. If he hadn't just spoken, Betty might have assumed he was asleep.

Betty closed her eyes too, a weightless feeling washing over her as she allowed herself to relax a moment. She wasn't very good at this. It was something she'd had to work at over the years, learning to let everything go. The tension, the fears, the over awareness. All of it followed her around, nagging at her in the back of her mind, and popping back up when she least expected it. These days, all trace of it's physical effects were gone, but Betty knew better than anyone that thoughts could leave their own mark. Here in this moment, however, she felt unusually serene.

Betty opened her eyes again, glancing sideways. She was a little startled to find that, Jughead had been watching her.

"Hi," he murmured softly, his eyes meeting hers.

Betty looked back up at the ceiling quickly, feeling herself smile. The kind of uncontrollable smile that you couldn't hold in. She was struck by a sudden urge to roll over, and then shuffle across just a little bit more until there was no space between them at all. But if ever there was an inappropriate place to do this, it seemed to be now.

"You look really pretty today," he said quietly, his voice sure and certain.

Betty allowed this observation to sink in, feeling it wash over her, and suddenly felt very shy. She lifted her arms and folded them over her face, hiding from him and hiding from herself.

"Thanks," she said, her voice muffled by her arms.

There was movement next to her. She felt his hand catch her arm, and Jughead gently pulled her arm back away from her face, making eye contact with her as he came back into view. She blinked as her eyes readjusted to the light.

"How much trouble will we be in if we just…leave…" he pondered, his hand still resting on her arm.

Betty giggled, staring back up at the ceiling. "Well," she started, "I'll probably be fine. But I would say that would be a fairly controversial move for you…"

Jughead sighed. "Veronica haaates me this week," he said, only half jokingly. "And now, I have to live with this fucking L shaped couched too. And I have to pretend to like it. Do you realise how difficult that's going to be for me?"

Betty could feel uncontrollable laughter bubbling up inside of her. Her shoulders shook slightly as she tried to supress it, suddenly acutely aware that a woman was standing at the end of the bed inspecting the pricing listed on it.

Jughead sat up abruptly and waved at her in a friendly manner. "Do you have an L shaped couch in your house?" he asked her, very seriously.

The woman stared blankly at him. Betty reached out and hit him weakly, losing it completely and giggling uncontrollably.

The woman looked puzzled and a little embarrassed, and walked away hurriedly.

"I'm gonna take that as a no," Jughead concluded. "And now we can tell Veronica that, statistically speaking, her fancy couch is superfluous."

"You only asked one person. I don't think-"

"I'm a lawyer, not a statistician. It's of no matter."

Betty watched lazily as he adjusted his hat. And then he held out his hand.

"C'mon. Let's go."

She took it.

He led her through the store and out into the street, heading back in the direction of the apartment. It was not a long walk, just a few blocks up town. For the most part, they walked in silence. It was curious, Betty found herself thinking, that you could simply be with someone and find no need to be doing anything specific or talking about anything in particular. She was quite content for them to just be in each others presence. There were undoubtedly things that they could talk about, but now didn't seem to be the moment.

She wondered for the umpteenth time how she'd spent so much time thinking about all the many things that could go wrong. The reality was that you had to focus the good things, because there was always a chance you could end up with everything. She was going to try this, going forward, she decided.

"Do you want lunch? Late lunch?" Jughead interrupted her thoughts just as they reached Precinct.

Betty nodded. Jughead opened the door to the apartment building with a flourish, ushering her in, and they made their way down the corridor to the elevator.

After the chaos earlier that morning, the calmness of the empty apartment was a welcome relief. But with it came a feeling of nervous apprehension, one that Betty had come to recognise only occurred when she and Jughead found themselves completely alone. It was funny because she spent so much time willing it to happen, yet when it did she was never quite sure how she was going to react. Betty busied herself in the kitchen preparing lunch, focusing intently on the task at hand.

A short while later, Jughead appeared over Betty's right shoulder, peering nosily at the ingredients. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Looks good," he said in approval, leaning against the counter.

Betty could feel him watching her. "What?" she smiled.

Jughead caught her hand as she went to reach for the salt and pepper, and Betty stopped. He tugged gently on her hand until she stumbled into him, her breath catching a little in her throat as he closed the distance between them. Betty pressed her lips together and swallowed. She could feel his gaze fixed on her, but couldn't quite bring herself to meet his eyes. She found herself staring intently at his shoulder, her heart thumping so loudly she wondered if he could feel it too.

If he could, he didn't comment. Instead, he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Betty took a leap of faith and shifted her gaze slightly to make eye contact. His eyes were reassuring. They flickered down, briefly focusing on her lips, before returning to meet hers and betraying the most subtle of smiles. And then she felt his fingers tangle in her hair, his thumb press gently behind her ear, and he kissed her.

He lingered just long enough for Betty to register this, and then she felt him pull away slightly, his forehead dropping to rest on hers. Betty exhaled shakily and reached up and draped her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself towards him as he ducked down and caught her lips in his again. She felt him wrap his arms around her waist and smiled against his lips, supressing a giggle, as he kissed her again and again.

And Betty knew he hadn't heard the apartment door open or the voices in the hall, because it took a moment for him to react when she jumped back hastily at the noise. Flustered, she resumed her meal preparation duties with even more focus than before, all before Jughead had even processed what was happening. He was still standing uncertainly in the middle of the kitchen looking dazed when Veronica appeared behind him.

"Hi," she said sharply, carrying several bags into the kitchen and setting them down on the counter.

Neither Betty or Jughead said anything.

Veronica paused, clearly confused.

Betty readied herself and turned around. "Hey" she said, in what she hoped was a successful attempt at feigned nonchalance.

But Veronica was staring at Jughead, who had now progressed from looking dazed to slightly guilty. "What's wrong with you?" she said bluntly. Veronica glanced around the room suspiciously. "Did you break something?"

Jughead cleared his throat, looking awkward. "Nn-nope."

Veronica stared at him a moment longer before rolling her eyes and disappearing back down the hall.

Betty glanced again at Jughead, who threw his hands up in the air exaggeratedly and promptly exited the kitchen also.

Betty took this opportunity to fix her hair, pulling it back into place. She then paused, resting her hands on the counter momentarily and looking up at the ceiling.

She breathed out slowly, and turned her attention back to preparing lunch.

Thanks for reading! I would love to hear from you. Will continue to post this here, but if you're interested the remaining 10 chapters are already available on Archive of Our Own via findingbetty. I just posted the sequel today, too :)