She burst through the door in such a panic she didn't close it behind her. "What's wrong?" Sweet Pea asked jumping to his feet, seeing the whites of her eyes from how wide they were as she rushed to the bathroom. Checking first to make sure no one was outside, coming after her, he threw the door shut locking it and followed her. "What happened, is he after you again?" He was trying to figure out what they were up against and what way he needed to protect her this time, but Lane stood holding the bag looking like she was about to cry.
Which she was, she'd been in and out of tears the entire drive home. She brought a hand to cover her eyes until it passed and she could breathe, it was taking longer and longer each time for her to pull herself back together. But when she finally did this time she pulled out the boxes of tests she'd gotten, and another wave of tears hit her.
When he understood what he was seeing the ground seemed to drop from beneath him and he was breathing but he couldn't catch his breath. He heard his name, soft and unsure. And he looked at her and she was crying, or he was. And he was struck with the sudden need to run.
"Sweet Pea," she said on a despairing breath as he stepped back. "Don't le-"
"I'm not leaving," he said sounding breathless, his eyes unable to meet hers. "I just," god he couldn't breathe, "I can't be here."
She heard the door shut behind him and then the sound of his bike, and she couldn't put herself back together this time. As the first sobs shook her small shoulders she sank to the floor with only herself to hold her.
…
He thought it was Toni at first pounding on the door, ready to go to the movies, but in walking to the front of his trailer Fangs saw through the window it was Sweet Pea. "Lane change her mind about the – what happened?" he asked when he saw the way Sweet Pea was shaking. "Is he after her again?"
"I need you to be with her," Sweet Pea told him already leaving again. "I can't do this."
Fangs called after him but he never stopped, and he watched Sweet Pea climb back on his bike and peel out of the trailer park. Grabbing his shoes and his keys Fangs drove to their house and let himself in, wondering what happened when they'd been so happy before. "Lane?" he called heading for the bedroom. But he stopped when he caught sight of her in the bathroom hugging her knees to her chest. "Hey," he said gently as he leaned in the doorway, his gaze moving to the boxes on the counter. "Oh," he breathed feeling like his heart had skipped a beat. This was, it was – he didn't know what it was. "Why did you get six different-"
"Because I needed all of them," Lane cried hearing the hysteria in her own voice. But the crying was back and she didn't really want it so she held her breath.
"Okay," Fangs was quick to say as he sat next to her, seeing she was shaking the same way Sweet Pea had been. "You didn't open any," he said and braced for her to yell again.
But she was hugging her legs tighter. "I couldn't do it," she said tearfully. She felt his hand on her shoulder and she shook her head because that wasn't going to do anything for her. "Yell at me," she told him wiping her nose. "Tell me to get up."
He hesitated a moment, meeting her reddened eyes when she turned to him, and tried not to remember she scared him. "Okay, um, get up," he said trying to be firm. She shook her head turning away and he took a breath. "You're Lane goddamn Vivian, get up, pee on some sticks, and let's get this over with." A beat passed as she blinked at him stunned before he added, "please don't cry."
There was her resolve, come back after it left with Sweet Pea. "Okay," she said climbing to her feet and picking up one of the boxes.
He left her there to do what she needed to, and he stood outside the door trying Sweet Pea's phone and cursed when it went to voicemail. Fangs didn't know what infuriated him more; that Sweet Pea made this his problem, or that he'd left Lane to do this alone. But as he called Toni to tell her he wasn't going with her to the movies he realized Sweet Pea hadn't left her alone, he made sure she'd have someone. It didn't make Fangs any happier about it.
Looking at his phone for the fifth time he wished he'd paid attention to when he left her because it felt like forever and she still hadn't come out. Two minutes after that he knocked timidly on the door. "You alright?" he asked knowing how stupid a question that was. When she didn't answer he cracked the door and peeked inside, and when he didn't see her in the mirror he threw it open and found her sitting in the tub. Not daring to ask why she was in there he crept forward seeing she was staring at the sticks she'd lined in two neat rows.
She didn't need to say anything, he could see the answer in the way her chin quivered when she looked up at him. Before the first tear could fall he knelt beside her and gathered her in his arms, and with a hand on her back and the other under her knees he carried her to the couch and sat holding her as she cried.
…
It was hours later, as he laid at her back on the couch with his arms around her watching the TV he'd turned on to give her mind something else to do besides panic, that his phone started buzzing. Seeing who it was he gently unwound himself from around Lane and quietly went outside. "What the hell, Sweet Pea?" Fangs all but yelled when he answered it.
"How is she?" he asked in a thick voice.
His hand tightened around the phone wanting to tell Sweet Pea he had no right to ask, but Fangs honestly couldn't say he would've reacted any different. Fangs could hear the loud music over the phone, had heard the way he was slurring. His being angry would only make Sweet Pea defensive, so Fangs said, "she finally stopped crying when she fell asleep," knowing it'd hurt him. "But even then I'm pretty sure she's still crying."
Sweet Pea brought a hand to his face feeling that same panicked breathlessness along with the feeling of wanting to make it better because he'd always hated when she cried, and both feelings together didn't sit well inside him. "How many,"
"All of them," Fangs told him in a biting tone. "They're all positive."
He slammed the phone on the bar and downed another shot, wanting to be drunk enough he was someone else's problem. And he turned to the nearest guy looking for a fight.
Almost defeated Fangs returned to the house and sighed at seeing Lane had woken, because he didn't know what to tell her. "He's not coming back," she said seeing it on his face. And her head hung feeling another wave of tears coming on and she was really sick of crying.
"Hey," he said firmly enough it startled her, and he knelt in front of where she sat. "He'll come back." He could see she didn't believe him in the way she shook her head. "He doesn't have the brain capacity to handle big things, when he gets his head around this he's gonna drag his sorry ass home. You know he will." Of nothing was Fangs more sure.
And Lane wished she knew that, she wanted to know that so much. "What if he doesn't?"
He shook his head not allowing it. "I'm not even gonna tell you how much we'd all be here for you, and we would," he told her with a hand on her cheek, "but I'm not going to say that because he's coming back."
It took her some time but she eventually nodded and gave a soft okay. And she let him lay down and pull her against him, let herself lay with his arms around her and her head on his chest, letting him hold her together since she couldn't.
.^.
They heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle pull into the driveway at close to noon. By then Fangs had convinced her to take a shower and get dressed, and eat though that didn't take much convincing - although they did run to the store to get a frozen pizza because the actual pizza she wanted came from a restaurant that wasn't open yet.
Fangs swore when Sweet Pea shuffled in. "You got in a fight," he said with his voice uncharacteristically raised at the sight of his black eye. "Do you have any idea what she's," he was quieted by Lane's hand on his arm and he sat back glaring heavily.
With his head bowed Sweet Pea stood several feet from where they sat at the table unable to look at either of them, but Lane especially. He'd drunk enough last night to develop a second heartbeat in his head, so he was having a hard time thinking straight. She was the only thought that stuck, he'd wanted to be with her the moment he left her. "I know I didn't do it right," he said glancing at her briefly to see she was still facing away from him. "But I'd like to be here now."
Lane sat for a moment with her eyes on the table and her hand still on Fangs' arm, and both of them waiting for her to move. Whatever had tightened in her chest when he'd left finally let go at hearing his bike in the driveway. Rising to her feet she moved to stand in front of him seeing his face turned away.
She brought a gentle hand to his cheek forcing him to look at her, and in the place of anger he saw a quiet understanding. "I'm so sorry," he told her feeling his eyes burn. He stepped into her arms letting his head fall to her shoulder as his hands came around her back. And it was then, seeing that he was going to stay, that Fangs left.
…
It was still and quiet as they lay beside each other, still in the way their spinning world wasn't and quiet in the way their minds couldn't be. But breathing didn't seem so impossible now that they were doing it together.
"I don't want this," Lane finally said after a long while. She'd never thought much of kids and thought even less of her ever having them, she certainly didn't want one now. They weren't ready, was a thought that felt like a joke, they were too young, they couldn't afford it. At some point she'd turned every thought into an argument to justify what she said.
More or less Sweet Pea thought the same, when his thoughts were coherent because for the most part it was all just a big scrambled mess. So he gave a quiet, "okay."
She turned to him not liking that answer. "Are you fine with that? Is that what you want too?"
"I don't know," he said too quickly. Feeling that same sense of breathlessness in his chest, so he reached a hand to hers to ground himself. "I can't," he tried to find the words but even those he couldn't grasp. "I'll follow your lead," he told her, because she always knew what to do. "I'm here if you want it and I'm here if you don't."
She didn't like that either. Beneath the sentiment of hearing he planned to stay she didn't know what to do. But she was used to being the one with the answers, of taking care of someone when she herself wanted to be taken care of. So she said, "okay."
.^.
Which is how they found themselves a couple days later sitting in a clinic in another town that was unnervingly busy and cluttered, and wrong. "You okay?" Sweet Pea asked her quietly seeing the way she was bouncing her leg up and down.
Her eyes were on a toddler playing with a toy car, Sweet Pea's voice sounded far away. She jumped at his hand on her leg and she sat up trying to sit still. "I just have to pee," she said without looking at him, because he'd see it on her face.
"Vivian."
They both turned to the tired looking nurse that stood in the doorway with a clipboard in hand, and Sweet Pea looked to Lane who then took a breath and stood up first. There weren't many guys there and he'd already caught several people staring, he felt like it was written on his forehead. "There's a bathroom," he said when they went into the back office and he saw one.
"I don't have to go," she told him, not seeing the way his brows drew together confused.
There was something comforting in the uniform manner the nurse asked her questions, when did she take a pregnancy test, did she know how far along she was, how long had she been noticing symptoms and then specific questions regarding symptoms. Lane's answers were simple, matter of fact. It calmed her the way the paperwork had – it was something she knew how to do.
But the nurse left and Lane found herself in front of the wall of pamphlets unable to read anything from the way her vision blurred. Sweet Pea sat in a chair across from the exam table watching her not sure what he was supposed to do; if he should try to hold her or if she wanted him to. He knew he couldn't say anything, he hadn't even been able to nod when the nurse asked if he was the father – a word he hadn't thought of or that it applied to him. So he sat and he watched. They both jumped when the door opened and a kind looking gray haired man walked in.
He introduced himself as Dr Schafer, asked idle impersonal questions of both Lane and Sweet Pea that were meant to put the two obviously uncomfortable teens more at ease. "I'll have you sit up on the table, the ultrasound should help tell us how far along you are. Oh what a gentleman," he said with a smile as Sweet Pea stood and held a hand at her back as she climbed on the table.
Sweet Pea honestly had no idea what he was doing or what he should've been doing, all he knew is that he felt like he was doing it wrong. He stood beside her watching as she pulled her shirt up so Dr Schafer could put some kind of jelly on her stomach before pulling out a weird shaped wand attached to the machine – Sweet Pea didn't know what was happening.
"There we go," Dr Schafer said looking at the monitor. "See there's the head, that looks like a hand." He was quiet as he continued looking, and then there was a very loud fast rushing sound.
"What-what is that?" Sweet Pea asked, because Lane's eyes were fixed to the screen as she made out the strangely familiar shape of a body.
The doctor turned with a small smile looking between the two, the quiet immobile girl and the almost shy rough looking boy that was sticking close to her side. "That's the heartbeat. Pretty fast, huh?" he asked seeing the boy nod and mouth something unintelligible.
"It's not a few weeks," Lane said knowing there shouldn't be any distinguishable features like what she was now clearly seeing was a very small hand resting by its weirdly shaped head. And its heart like a steady squishy drumming.
"I'd say you're at about twelve weeks," Dr Schafer answered, seeing past the blank expression she wore to how frequently she blinked her wet eyes. "Second trimester would've been two weeks away, a lot of fun things happen then: you start showing, less nausea, baby starts moving, mom's usually feeling happier." He glanced at the boy to see him watching her, and her eyes still set on the monitor. "Well," he said turning the machine off so that the screen was black, that seemed to jar her, "I won't talk you out of it. That's our counselor's job," he joked poorly handing her a tissue to clean her stomach. "She'll go over everything with you, all your options, make sure termination is what you want. And then we'll get you scheduled."
Even as she sat up and threw the tissue away all she could hear was that heartbeat, echoing. "Twelve weeks?" Sweet Pea asked when the doctor had left, trying to wrap his head around the last three months and that it'd been there growing the whole time.
"Penny," Lane answered softly. It was the only night they'd both been drunk enough to forget to use protection. Out of the five of them – Sweet Pea, Lane, Fangs, Toni, and Jughead – no one remembered anything after Jughead showed up. One night, one goddamn night.
"Hey," he said reaching for her when she brought a hand to her face.
But she jerked away. "I'm fine," she told him sounding meaner than she meant. But it was like her heart was trying to mimic the one she'd heard, the one she was still hearing, and it was just so fast and she couldn't catch her breath.
He moved back when the counselor came in, and then waited in the hall as instructed while she questioned Lane alone. Lane was holding three different pamphlets when he came back and when she didn't acknowledge he was there he stood beside where she sat with his hands in his pockets. He didn't know why he was being asked questions, he didn't think he got a say. Before every answer he looked at Lane, as though she'd tell him the correct answer, but her eyes were on the floor.
There was a numb disconnect in the way Lane sat there, in her airy voice as she answered, in the way she listened to the woman explain how they were going to remove the 'fetus'. And then she stared blankly at the lady behind the front desk as she scheduled her for the middle of next week after school.
Sweet Pea followed her quietly to the car, then stared at her a moment as she sat in the passenger's seat with her forehead against the window. His hand wanted to be on her knee but he set it on the steering wheel instead and drove them to a home that suddenly felt too small to fit this.
He opened the door for her and watched her silently make her way to the bedroom, and he stood in the living room with his hands in his pockets not knowing what he should do or even what he wanted to do. So he sat for a while watching TV in a daze, and when he turned it off he found he couldn't remember what had been on. She was laying on her side of the bed curled tightly in on herself with her back to where he laid beside her.
They didn't say anything to each other, she didn't turn to him, didn't act like she knew he was there. And he laid on his back blinking at the ceiling still in a haze. "Is this still what you want?" she asked him after a long enough time he thought she'd fallen asleep.
"I'll do whatever you want," he told her because he still didn't have an answer. But there was a sick twisted feeling in his stomach he was trying to ignore.
Her eyes closed as she sighed having hoped he'd say no. She curled tighter around herself pulling away from where he lay at her back. And for what felt like the first time he didn't reach for her.
.^.
At a gentle knock Jughead looked up from where he sat behind the desk of the room the Swords and Serpents used for meetings to see Lane. "You summoned me," she said with not even half of her normal attitude.
"I said please," he told her. And he had, after he'd asked her to meet him after school and she'd done little more than blink. He thought saying please would appease her, make her smile, but she'd only nodded and walked away. She was distant and withdrawn, wasn't coming to the Wyrm but Sweet Pea was there almost every night drinking too much and looking for fights that Fangs kept pulling him away from.
There was something grating about the normality of everything when her world felt so different now. He hadn't come home in several days and she wasn't sleeping for the constant drumming that surrounded her every thought. "What do you want?" she asked in a blunt biting tone she couldn't seem to soften.
Everyone kept asking if she was okay, and because he knew she wouldn't answer Jughead pulled out the map he'd been studying since getting back from the cabin. "These are the places Lodge Industries has bought," he explained motioning to the buildings he'd circled in red.
There was Southside High, Twilight Drive-In, Sunnyside Trailer Park, and now the Register. "He's buying out Riverdale," Lane said feeling the perpetual knot in her stomach twist tighter.
"Starting with the Southside," Jughead said, glad she was seeing it. "I was hoping to go over some other things I've found, get your take on it. See if anything jumps out."
She shook her head trying to clear it, but everything just felt so foggy. "Do we know what he's bringing to Rivedale?"
Jughead smiled at finally hearing the right question. After Lodge bought the Register Betty finally got on board, but before he'd been doing this alone. "Like organized crime," he offered seeing her nod as she stared at the map.
Before either of them could form a follow up response they heard a gruff, "hey," from the hall and they turned to see Sweet Pea, who'd been looking darker and angrier everyday.
Other than in the halls it was the first time she'd seen him since the weekend and she swallowed the sudden need for him to hold her as she turned back to Jughead. "We'll talk later," she said seeing his cautious nod before they left.
…
They existed silently together with what felt like an entire universe between them. She laid on the table wearing her shirt and a gown and he sat at her head only able to see the tip of her nose and her chest as she breathed too shallow, and the unknown female doctor between her legs. It wasn't Dr Schafer, they'd been told he didn't perform these but his colleague did.
Lane stared at the bare wall next to her with that drumming noise pounding in her head, filling her lungs so she couldn't breathe. Squeezing her flooded eyes shut she brought a hand to her mouth trying to stifle the weeping trapped in the back of her throat.
"Do you want to stop?" Sweet Pea was quick to ask her feeling like something had struck him in the center of his chest. She nodded and he looked to the doctor who was waiting. "Get out," he told her softly at first, but when she didn't move fast enough he said it louder.
Hearing the door shut Lane started to cry feeling him come around the table as he helped sit her up. "I know I'm supposed to have all the answers, but I just," she felt him tuck her hair behind her ear, running his thumb over her wet cheek. "I don't wanna do this," she told him in a voice that broke.
"We don't have to," he assured her too readily. He'd known after the first appointment this wasn't what he wanted, but he thought Lane did. And now he was realizing he'd left her again to do this alone. "We'll go home, okay? We can talk about it when you're ready." He pulled her to him feeling her arms tight around his shoulders, still crying. "We'll stop by Pops and get a milkshake," he said trying for anything that'd calm her down. "You can get them all if you want."
"And fries," she added as what felt like a smile pulled at her mouth as she caught her breath.
He ran a hand through her hair ready to get her anything she wanted. "Let's get you dressed," he said helping her down from the table and grabbing her pants. When they were ready he pulled the door open and walked with an arm tight around her shoulders as he waved away the doctor who was asking if they wanted to schedule another consultation to re-discuss their options.
They'd just made their way to the front when they heard a man call, "Ms Vivian." They turned seeing Dr Schafer holding her chart. "Thought you might want to take this home," he said pulling the printout from where it'd been clipped to the folder.
Seeing it was the ultrasound Lane reached a timid hand for it. "Thank you," she told him in a soft manner.
"Everyone's right answer is different, take however much time you need to find yours."
This time it was Sweet Pea to thank him because Lane was choking back another wave of tears, and he led her from the building. They sat in the car for a long while staring at the grainy picture. "What's that?" he asked pointing to something by its head.
"A hand," she told him. "Those are the little fingers." She released a shaky breath and leaned against him, feeling him kiss the top of her head before he started the car. "We can't do this," she said realizing they were now back to not having a plan.
His hand came around her leg and he squeezed. "Today," he added. "We can't do this today. Who knows what we can do tomorrow." For the first time in days he felt like he was really breathing, and though his hands still shook it didn't feel like the world was falling apart. "I'm sorry I put it all on you," he said, now able to see how hard this had been on her. That she was only doing it because she'd felt like she had to. Her answer was her hand over his as she wound their fingers together.
…
At the sound of the car in the driveway Fangs jumped up and met them at the door, seeing Lane holding two shakes. "So?" he asked thinking food was a good sign.
"Stop," Sweet Pea said coming up behind her holding two more shakes as well as a bag. As Lane walked to the kitchen he turned to Fangs. "If you make her cry again," he warned through clenched teeth.
Fangs closed the door after him and followed them to the kitchen to see a large basket of fries in the bag with several small sauce containers filled with pickles. "How many shakes are Lane's?" he thought was safe to ask.
"All of them," Sweet Pea answered dryly. "She informed me in the car we were gonna share mine." His hard eyes found hers and the smallest smile curled on his mouth as he knocked her chin.
They settled on the couch with Lane between them, the boys sharing left over pizza while Lane ate the entire bag of fries and drank half of each of the four shakes that Fangs and Sweet Pea then split between them. Eventually Fangs couldn't keep quiet and asked, "so, are we doing this?"
Both Lane and Sweet Pea fixed him with similar disgruntled expressions. "How exactly are you apart of this, 'we'?" he asked and looked down when Lane smacked his chest.
"He's asking more than you did," she reminded Sweet Pea. But her mind was turning again around the same questions. "We need to figure it out."
Throwing a dark look at Fangs over her head Sweet Pea sat up. "It doesn't need to be today," he told her, wanting to get her to a good enough place that they could talk about this without panicking. "The lady said we've got up until after the birth to decide on adoption, I think we've got a little time."
She wasn't happy about it, mostly because she felt better having things planned out, but he was right. And she really didn't think she would be able to plan anything today, or tomorrow, maybe not even the entire week. So even though it went against her nature, she settled back against him and tried to let it go.
"How far along are you?" Fangs asked with his head on her shoulder.
"Twelve weeks."
It took him a short minute to figure out that was three months and he sat up with his mouth open. "You've been pregnant since Christmas?" He was as clueless as they were in regards to how he felt about that, but he'd seen it clearly in both of them that they hadn't want to get rid of it. He could see in their faces the relief he felt at her not going through with it; he didn't think she would've been okay after that, he didn't think Sweet Pea would've been either.
Lane looked up at Sweet Pea. "Make him stop."
Wrapping an arm around her back Sweet Pea pulled her into his lap. "Leave her alone," he told him, rolling his eyes at the way Fangs grinned.
They all but had to throw Fangs out when Lane was ready to go to bed, and she sat between Sweet Pea's legs as he leaned against the headboard staring at the ultrasound she held. "What are you thinking?" she asked.
"Um," he mumbled looking at the features she'd pointed out to him, that he couldn't really see himself unless he squinted.
She looked up at his blank face and nodded. "Me too," she told him. She settled back feeling his hands light on her stomach, almost shy, as he kissed her cheek.
.^.
Lane was the one with the ultrasound, which she snuck glances at more than often, but Sweet Pea had taken a picture with his phone and he looked at it just as much. He was still trying to wrap his head around that being his, and less often but more than sometimes he still felt sick at the thought of it. It filled him with a panic that only settled when he held her.
They hadn't told anyone but Fangs, Lane had picked a clinic an hour out of town so no one would find out – and they sat going through the motions with something too big between them while everyone else spoke to them like everything was normal. They tried to pretend it was and for the most part they could, but he looked at her one day and suddenly it was different. It didn't hit him until they got to work and changed into their uniforms, and he saw her slide under a car to work underneath it.
He'd gone to Spyder, who'd taken Tall Boy's place in the garage, and within a few minutes Lane was following him into the back office. At someone coming up beside him Sweet Pea turned expecting Lane. "Yeah, she's not happy with you," Spyder told him jerking a thumb to the office she was waiting in.
With his head bowed he closed the door and faced her. "What the hell? Why would you tell him I was pregnant, he's taking me off the floor?" she demanded in a harsh, hushed, voice. From the way he shrugged she knew that'd been Sweet Pea's plan. "This is now my office, I'm basically the office manager this shop has been desperately needing. Do you have any idea how much work I'm gonna have to do to get this place back up to date, do you have idea how backlogged they are." It was work Tall Boy had started her on a while ago, she hadn't particularly enjoyed it.
Sweet Pea shrugged again. "Does it come with a raise?"
"I'm pretty sure you already know the answer," she snapped standing with her arms crossed now close to livid.
Which in turn made him angry. "Look, you said I got a say in this," he told her firmly. "I saw you out there and all I could think was you getting hurt. Alright, this is my say."
She wanted to hit him, to smack some sense into him for going behind her back. "Your instincts," she sighed feeling herself giving in, "though overbearing, are sweet. But next time can we talk about it before you take away my say?"
He took his eyes from the floor to see her gentle, yet still moderately irritated, face and he smiled guiltily. "Yeah," he agreed holding an arm out so she'd step against him, and he held her when she did.
"I don't like working in the office," she grumbled close to pouting.
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I love you," he told her, as though gifting her with a consolation prize.
"Shut up," she said not taking it.
.^.
They settled into an uneasy routine, going to school, going to work, going home, doing homework, holding each other. They lived with this unspoken thing between them like they were afraid to say its name, too big for them to hold. But there were little things they couldn't willfully ignore: the puking even though it was thankfully growing less, and more newly she kept getting incredibly dizzy. She scared the crap out of Sweet Pea one day when she almost passed out, after that without fail he stuck close to her side. She might've gotten sick of him if she didn't feel like she needed him there.
"I'm so bloated," she said with a hand over her stomach as she wore the same sweatpants as yesterday because this was the third day in a row she couldn't button her jeans. She looked like she'd had too much eat too many days in a row.
He came up behind her running his hands along her hips until they settled over her stomach. And she waited for him to swear up and down that she was beautiful as he'd been doing anytime he caught her looking at herself – he was being weird. "Would you hit me if I agreed?"
She swiveled around to glare up at him. "Yes," she told him sternly watching him smile as he stepped back, expecting her to slap him. But she sighed pulling on a shirt, finding even that was too tight. "No, I know I am."
He leaned toward her kissing her temple. "Your tits look great," he said and laughed as she smacked his arm, knowing he earned it.
"You're an ass," she said as his arms came around her again.
He was smiling as he hugged her, mostly because he knew it mildly annoyed her. "Love you," he teased feeling her jump then try to twist away as he tickled her.
"Stop," she laughed finding at some point he'd picked her up, and he carried her out into the living room. They'd just settled back on the couch ready to watch something until they got tired when there was a knock on the door.
Sweet Pea was the one who answered it, who always answered it now. "No," he said already refusing when he saw it was Jughead.
"You don't know what I'm gonna ask."
Sweet Pea stood with a hand on the doorframe blocking Jughead from coming inside. "You're trying to take down Lodge, she doesn't need another reason for him to come after her. The answer's no." And with that he swung the door shut and turned to where Lane waited unhappily. "The answer's no," he said again and walked back to the couch.
Releasing a heavy breath Lane pulled the door open and told Jughead, "wait," before she turned to a furious Sweet Pea who was stalking toward her. "That," she raised a finger toward him, "was not a discussion, we will still be having one. I'm gonna go on a walk with him – do not interrupt me," she warned seeing his eyes burn as he closed his mouth. "You know he won't stop asking, so I'm gonna explain why I'm not helping until after we've talked. You're going to use that time to calm the hell down." She took a breath watching his anger wane as he understood she wasn't leaving to help Jughead behind his back. "I heard you," she told him. "And I'm listening."
He took a steadying breath and nodded, honestly loving her so much in that moment. "Okay," he relented and reached for her.
But she smacked him away and grabbed her sweater. "You can be sweet when I get back, I'm still not happy with you." Pulling her arms through the sleeves she stepped outside passing where Jughead still stood on the front step, watching them with a disquiet non-understanding. And she rolled her eyes at hearing Jughead grunt as he was jerked inside and the door was slammed shut.
Jughead found himself flung against the wall as Sweet Pea glowered over him. "We've had a really good day," Sweet Pea told him through bared teeth. "I swear to god if you make her cry they'll be cleaning you off the pavement." Taking a moment longer to consider whether to pummel Jughead now Sweet Pea finally opened the door to let him back outside, meeting Lane's irritated eyes with a smirk. And he watched them go thinking she was safe in their neighborhood, wrongfully assuming Jughead was going to be to the one to bring Hiram Lodge to her. Not knowing that Hiram Lodge had already sent a man after her that night.