our story is not over

by x-shadow-x-kisses-x

Betty and Jughead through their early twenties. Set after 4x19. Bughead endgame. Expect: Jughead in an abusive relationship, Betty struggling to make it through life after TBK, lots and lots of hookups with each other and more characters, and Jughead as a single dad. Falice baby. Charles and JB get better storylines. TW: miscarriage and assault (no graphic descriptions).

7. Both of our hearts believe

Jughead groaned in frustration as he pulled his right hand towards his chest and rubbed it with the other.

It was seizing up again, as was common ever since he'd had his cast removed months earlier. The pain was like an ache, that had nothing on the pain of his wrist breaking in the first place, but was still annoying when he was trying to work on book number five in the hours after Jordan went to sleep.

And it was tender; thanks in most part to the post-trauma carpal tunnel syndrome he was now plagued with. He frowned as he tried to massage the area. His doctor had recommended surgery when splinting hadn't fixed the problem. Trying to keep his wrist immobile when he had important things to write was frustrating, but typing with his left hand just wasn't going to cut it anymore.

He sighed and leaned back against his desk chair. Sam was nagging him more than ever now that he'd received another advance. Deadbeat Dad's publication had to be delayed, much to the disappointment of his literary fans; it made it impossible for him to quit working at Pop's, but that was okay, too. He liked his job, it meant he could support Jordan, and it also meant he got an employee discount on the best food in town.

But there was no way he was allowing Deadbeat Dad to get released while people were still speculating about his marriage, and especially not when it could affect the outcome of Cora's trials.

Which she'd lost… but sort of won.

She was in prison, that much was relieving to Jughead. But her lawyer was good, thanks in great part to all the money she'd stolen from him (though not illegally, unfortunately, because there was no way of proving otherwise), and she'd wound up taking a plea bargain that had her convicted of Reckless Endangerment of a Child instead of Attempted Murder. It was the difference between a maximum sentence of ten years, and a minimum sentence of twenty five to life.

Jughead couldn't exactly blame her; based on the disgusted expression on the judge's face and the horrified looks on the jury's, Jughead would have taken the deal too.

But that meant she could get parole, and living with that knowledge was a high point of anxiety for Jughead.

She'd been convicted of Assault, too, though it was downgraded to Second Degree and most of her other charges were dropped. That conviction was being served concurrently with her Child Endangerment conviction. Most of Jughead's family were angry with the prosecutor for offering her the deal in that case; Jughead was still feeling the physical effects of her attack, and Jordan was still getting over the emotional effects - but in that case, her lawyer had spun a great narrative. One that painted Jughead in the light of the aggressor, and asserted that Cora had only acted in self defense.

Her lawyer claimed the bruises on his neck were nothing more than evidence of using BDSM in the bedroom, and Jordan's bruise was because of a fall that'd happened while he was playing. The only witness to the crime was Jughead and a baby who couldn't be relied on, not when it was 'so clear' that the father was using his fame to sway the opinion of the public.

Jughead was sure the plea deal in that case had been put on the table when it looked like she was going to get away with it. Cheryl told him it could have gone either way, because Cora had a great defense, but Jughead's injuries were both documented and severe.

Truthfully, Jughead was just happy that after all of this had been settled, and she'd been placed behind bars for at least five years, the Family Court stripped her of her parental rights.

She had no legal rights to Jordan, and if and when she got out of prison, there was nothing she could do to get him back. It was ruled that she wasn't to contact him until he turned eighteen, and Jughead wasn't allowed to bring Jordan to visit her in prison.

That court appearance had been equally the least stressful (because Cora could only attend virtually, although her face hung menacingly above the room on a TV when the Judge made her closing remarks) and the most emotional; Cora's brothers were angry, her mother cried loudly, and Jughead himself felt almost guilty.

It wasn't Cora's family's fault that she was such a heartless maniac, and yet, they'd made life a living hell for Jughead - her brothers spoke to the media about what an awful person Jughead was, and they both testified that they'd seen how abusive he could be, and it was 'no wonder Cora snapped'. Jughead got hate emails, and people sent him abusive messages on Instagram about what a terrible person he was.

Jordan's maternal grandmother had begged Jughead, as they were leaving the courtroom, to bring Jordan to visit her. It wasn't fair that his mother's family be cut out of Jordan's life, not when it could be over a decade before he saw her again.

Jughead told his ex-mother-in-law that Jordan had no mother. Cora was just the woman who gave birth to him.

His phone buzzed, alerting him to the sound of a text message. He pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes as he picked up the phone. Then he smiled; it was Betty, asking him if he was still awake.

Yeah, are you still with Polly? He replied.

He waited for her reply. She's heading to work now, so I was going to go home… unless there's a nocturnal writer looking for company in the garage?

Jughead smiled. I'll unlock the door.

Jughead stood up and stretched his arms above his head, and his muscles appreciated the movement. He walked towards Jordan's crib and peered over the rails. The toddler was sprawled out on his stomach, one arm tucked around a large plastic train he insisted on sleeping with. There was no way it could be comfortable for him, but Jughead was happy that Jordan was slowly letting go of his emotional attachment to "Bunny".

The door slowly opened, and Jughead looked up to greet Betty with a smile. Her blonde hair dropped below her chest and almost reached her waist. She removed her snow-covered coat and hung it on a hook behind the door along with her handbag. She unlaced her boots as she greeted him quietly, then stood up and rubbed her hands along her arms.

"It's freezing out there." She whispered as she made her way towards Jughead. "I'm so glad there's a heater in here. The fireplace was not cutting it upstairs, despite what FP claims."

Jughead let out a soundless laugh and drew her in for a kiss. "You have snowflakes in your hair."

Betty sighed. "Ugh. Now it's gonna be all wet and frizzy."

"Wet? I like the sound of that…" He smirked.

"Jug." She shook her head, but grinned as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. She pulled back after a moment and gave him a smirk. "I heard you're the Grinch Who Stole Christmas."

Jughead laughed quietly. "Polly still isn't over it, I see." He tightened his arms around Betty's waist, and the warmth of her body made him shiver.

Betty shrugged. "Honestly, with the amount of times I had to listen to her complaining about people annoying her with unwanted parenting tips, she can get over it."

"My hero." Jughead said and kissed her again. He untangled himself from her embrace, took her hand and led her to the bed. "So, do you think I'm the Grinch?"

Betty shook her head. "If you don't want Jordan to believe in Santa, then that's your business, Juggie." She sat down beside him and crossed her legs. Her candy cane socks stood out against his black quilt cover.

Jughead sighed. "It's not that I don't want him to believe in some mythical old man who will annually break into our house." Betty snickered, and Jughead couldn't withhold his own smirk. "I'm serious. But me and Toni took the kids to Archie's Community Center for the Winter Fait, and River had a great time with Santa. Blossom didn't really get it, and Chandler was just stoked that there was so much free food," Betty was still smiling about Jughead's tale, and it made him feel… affectionate, "but Jordan hated Santa. He clung to me like you wouldn't believe, wanted nothing to do with Santa, or the elves, or any of the marshmallow snowmen. All those judgy moms were shaking their heads at me, and I had to take him outside to calm down. Toni thought it was hilarious, I could tell."

"Awww, poor Jordan." Betty said sympathetically.

"Yes, well, after that I had to show Jordan a video from Instagram of Fangs putting the Santa costume on before he'd even agree to go back inside." Jughead sighed. "But even then, all day it was 'I don't like Santa' and 'Don't want Santa in our chimney' and 'Make Santa leave, Daddy'. I've never seen him so passionately against a children's character in my life. And that's even after he threw a block at the TV when Juniper accidentally put on Cocomelon." Jughead shook his head. "He was so freaked out by the whole Santa idea that I had to tell him it wasn't real. Even when I was putting him to bed tonight he made me promise Santa wasn't going to come."

Betty placed her hand on Jughead's shoulder. "You did what you had to do." Her lips were still twitching in amusement, and Jughead shrugged.

"To be honest, I don't really want to set him up to believe in the magical powers of Christmas - it's why kids think Santa doesn't like them when they don't get what they asked for, or when they get nothing because their dad lost his job again…" Jughead swallowed back the tense emotions that were building.

Betty rubbed her thumb across his neck. "Hey, that's fair enough…" she said, smiling warmly. She could tell there was something deeper inside Jughead that made him dislike the idea of Santa, and she suspected it had to do with some childhood memories that were usually dark. "You're Jordan's dad, and you can raise him to believe in whatever mythical creatures you want. And nobody can say anything about it because you're doing an amazing job."

Jughead smiled back at her. "Thanks." He shuffled backwards to lean against the wall and crossed one leg over the other. Betty shifted to face him. "I can't believe there's only two weeks until Christmas. You know that means Jordan and I have been living in this garage for over a year, now?"

Betty raised her eyebrows. "Wow… a year already?"

Jughead nodded. "I'm kind of… sad to be moving out soon. But, rooms in Veronica's apartment complex are going to go fast, because it's going to be literally the only safe apartment on the South Side that doesn't charge over-expensive rent, and I think I'm ready to be out of this place. Besides, how is Dagwood going to go through his moody teen phase if he doesn't have a garage-turned studio to escape to when the angsty emotions just get too much?"

Betty chuckled. "Well, actually…" She bit her lip and her eyes lit up. "You have to keep this to yourself, but… Polly and the twins might be moving out soon."

Jughead nodded. "Because Sweet Pea is planning to propose?"

Betty shrugged. "Well, Polly hopes so, but mainly because they've been looking at houses in the area." A dreamy look came over Betty's face. "She's already asked the twins if they'd be okay with her ever marrying him, and they were fine with it. More than fine with it, apparently. They like Sweet Pea… it's nice."

Jughead shook his head. "No, really Betty… Sweet Pea is planning to propose."

"What?!"

Her voice was loud, and her eyes widened, and they both flinched and faced Jordan as he stirred. But the toddler merely rolled onto his back and cuddled his train closer. Jughead breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sorry." Betty whispered. "Is he really? How do you know this, did he tell you himself?"

Jughead smirked. "He may have asked me for opinions on rings…"

Betty gasped and covered her mouth with both hands. "Oh my God." She said through her fingers. "Polly's going to be thrilled."

"Yes, but you can't tell her. He'll murder me." Jughead said honestly.

"Of course not, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." Betty was still smiling widely as she moved her hands. "I'm so glad you told me though, because now I can tell Polly he was planning to marry her before she left sex work."

Jughead raised his eyebrows. "She's quitting? What happened to that women's liberation lecture she gave you last week…"

Betty rolled her eyes. "She's still using feminism as a reason to keep working somewhere a known serial killer is hunting victims, that hasn't changed. But… Archie has been looking for a social worker to work full time hours at the Community Center, because he has a lot of homeless kids and runaways come through… and she applied for the position." She smiled. "She didn't tell anyone in case it fell through - it's happened before, most places don't like that she has a criminal record - but Archie made her an offer! She starts in three weeks!" Even with the whispering, Betty's excitement was evident. "Sweet Pea's taking her and the kids out to some fancy dinner in Greendale tomorrow, and she's going to tell them all about her new job. The kids still think she works at a nightclub, so I'm sure they'll be glad to have her home during the night time. Might mean you'll soon lose one of your babysitters, though."

"A tragedy." Jughead laughed. "Tomorrow night she's telling him? Well, that's interesting… because that's when he's planning to pop the question. It's really cute, he's going to ask the twins first if it's okay with them, then if they say yes he's gonna get down on one knee right there…"

"Oh my God, stop. You're gonna make me cry." Betty said, and actually wiped away a tear from her eyes.

…

Polly Cooper was thrilled with Sweet Pea's proposal. Betty, too, was glowing with excitement as she admired Polly's engagement ring. The twins seemed happy, though Dagwood told Jughead he was just happy that them moving in together meant he'd finally have his own room.

The twins no longer shared the basement with Polly - instead, they shared Jellybean's old bedroom, and Juniper had hung a curtain from the ceiling between their beds so they'd have 'some semblance of privacy'. They were close enough that the arrangement usually worked, but the thirteen year olds were beginning to get on each other's nerves.

Between Juniper's raging hormonal mood swings and Dagwood's edgy rebellious phase, the move couldn't come soon enough.

On Christmas Day, most of the family were in cheerful moods. Jellybean and Britta had flown in from LA, and Jellybean was sporting a sun-kissed glow as she explained her robotics project for her Master's Degree. FP had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, but he nodded his head and smiled proudly at her.

The only person who seemed 'off' was Betty.

She was jumpier than normal, and kept biting her lip and looking dazed and red faced as she stared out the windows at the snow-covered yard. Jughead hadn't seen her this out of sorts since… well, since he'd first seen her in the months after she escaped TBK.

Jughead pulled her aside while Jordan played tag with Chandler in the living room (much to the horror of Alice) and brought her down into his garage home. He led her to the bed and encouraged her to sit down, and almost automatically she leaned into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

"What's wrong?" He asked her gently, and stroked her back.

Betty sighed. "It's… nothing."

Jughead slowly traced circles on her back with his palm. "How you feel isn't nothing, Betts. Even if you think the problem isn't something worth worrying about. Your feelings still matter."

She nodded her head against Jughead's chest, and audibly swallowed. "It's just… the FBI haven't released this to the public yet, but a trucker found the body of one of the missing girls last night."

Jughead stiffened, then tried to relax around Betty's body. "Where was she?"

"Just off the side of the highway… She was in a ditch, and he only found her because he'd pulled over to call Triple A when his truck broke down. All this time she was right there, invisible to passers by but only yards away from the road." Betty practically whispered. "She was twenty four… blonde hair… was likely tortured before her death… Dr Curdle Jr. hasn't started her autopsy yet but we suspect she was kept alive for weeks before she… died."

Jughead squeezed her shoulders. "And it's triggering you?" She nodded again and he leaned his cheek on top of her head. "That's not silly, Betts… I understand why that'd be upsetting."

"Normally I can shut it out." She said quietly. "I work with rapists and murderers daily. We're constantly looking through evidence, and finding out graphic details, and I don't let it affect me. But this one…" She swallowed. "I couldn't let go of the… similarities between us. We were the same age when we were… abducted. She wasn't a hooker, or a runaway, she was just caught off guard while getting into her car… like I was when TBK got to me…" A tear slid down her face. "Her family searched for her for months before they gave up hope. Her Dad still calls us every week to find out if we have any leads. He never wanted to believe that the Highway Killer got to her… he was hoping she would show up one day." A slight sob escaped her lips. "And now we're going to have to tell him that she's been dead for over a year."

"Hey, it's…" Jughead started to say, but it wasn't okay. The Highway Killer had been active for at least three years, possibly even longer, and still hadn't been caught. Jughead knew that fact agonised Betty, and she put in overtime with the FBI just trying to find new leads and do surveillance. But they had none, the best they could do was keep track of the local street sex workers and truck drivers, and hope that one of them would give up some helpful information.

Betty's arm tightened around Jughead. "I'm going to catch this bastard." She grumbled into his chest.

"I have no doubt." Jughead said honestly. "But, Betty… maybe you should think about having some time off."

She sat up straighter and frowned. "I don't have time to take breaks, Jug. There are twenty seven women still missing, and I need to bring justice to their murderer. I can't do that by having 'mental health' days off or by cowering in my apartment with Toffee." She shook her head. "I need to be out on the field. There's evidence there, somewhere, that will lead to the Highway Killer. I just need to find it."

Jughead took her hands. "I'm not trying to deny that you're a total badass, or insinuate you can't handle the pressure, which I know is something you worry about." Betty made a grumbling groan noise, and Jughead tucked her hair behind her ear. "Hey, you're a fierce member of the FBI and if anyone's going to catch this guy, it's you." He said kindly. "But you need to make sure you're looking after yourself too. This isn't normal work related stress, Betts. This is… PTSD, and it's overwhelming, and sometimes you're just going to need to step away from the source of your emotional triggers. There's nothing wrong with that."

Betty was still looking down at their hands and frowning, but she nodded. "I do have some leave left…"

"Well, why don't you take a bit of time off?" He suggested, and gave her a small smirk. "The Highway Killer will still be there when you get back."

Betty rolled her eyes. "Indeed. Or who knows? Maybe he'll crash his truck into a tree tomorrow and save me the hassle of tracking him down."

"That's the spirit!"

…

Much to Betty's displeasure, Polly had one final night on the street before she gave up sex work. Her pimp who, through snooping Betty had learned, was named Ned, was an ex-school teacher who often lurked at the Truck Stop making phone calls and setting up appointments with his hookers' clients, and keeping an eye on the girls. It seemed that most of Polly's clients were truck drivers who spent a lot of time on the road.

Just the sight of Ned made Betty feel gross. He verbally abused his workers, and made them hand over most of the cash they made. He was a stocky middle aged man with receding hair, who had beady brown eyes and a permanently sour expression.

More than once Betty had watched Polly and several other girls meandering through the trucks, flirting with the drivers and drug pushers. At one point she spotted FP talking to one of the hookers, though he merely shook his head and brushed her off. That at least eased her mind, because it wasn't like FP knew Betty was watching the area. It was comforting to see he was being faithful to her Mom even with all the temptation of easy sex walking around his social space.

On the last night of Polly's sex work, Betty kept a hawk-like watch on her sister.

The Highway Killer had been relatively inactive for two months. Whether that be because he had figured out the FBI were monitoring the roads and keeping a more accurate log of the sex workers, or because his regular life was holding him back, or because the easily targeted teen girls that often hitch-hiked to escape their abusive parents had taken a liking to Archie's revamped Community Center; whatever the reason, the Highway Killer was overdue for an abduction.

And Betty would die before she let her sister be next.

She kept a close eye on Polly as she watched the station from her truck. The truck itself had been a steal of a purchase - abandoned at Steve's Junkyard, Betty had used FBI funds to buy it and fixed the engine up for minimal cost. The Riverdale FBI director was impressed with her initiative, and Betty was glad to have a cover story for her presence in the Truck Stop.

Said director called her while she was idly sipping on her Pop's milkshake straw. Jughead had made the shake six hours earlier, and winked at her while she handed over her cash. But after she set off on her surveillance shift at the truck stop she was so focused on the other women in the area that she'd barely even gone through a third of the drink. The condensation from the cup dripped over her hand as she put it down and picked up her phone.

"Cooper." She said without taking her eyes off Polly.

"Betty, any chance you have eyes on the pimp?" The voice of the director came through the speaker.

Betty turned her head to the side and searched for Ned. "Yeah, he's talking to one of the Ghoulies." She pursed her lips. "Doesn't look like a friendly conversation."

Ned was glaring at the Ghoulie - a tall red headed man with a leather jacket encrusted with studs. The Ghoulie was wildly waving his hands around as he told Ned off for whatever offense he'd taken against him.

"Can you follow the pimp tonight?"

Betty frowned. "I thought we already looked into Ned. He's a criminal, no question, but he's not a killer…"

"Agent Lincoln got an anonymous tip that 'the truck stop pimp' knows who the Highway Killer is."

Betty withheld a groan. "How legit was the tip?"

"Look, I doubt this guy has the guts to be friendly with a serial killer, but it's the first lead we've had in months. At the very least, I want to know who he's talking to, where he goes after he collects his cut of the money, whether he does anything shady - apart from the obvious, of course."

"Fine. I'll follow him." Betty conceded, and gave one final look in Polly's direction. She was climbing into another truck, a large green one that belonged to one of her regular clients. Betty groaned and bumped her head against the steering wheel.

Following Ned was almost too easy. She lurked in the shadows, and pretended to be interested in her phone. He didn't go far; merely walked away from the truck stop and towards another gas station on the South Side. Betty opened a random app on her phone and kept him in her peripheral vision as he talked to another Ghoulie.

This Ghoulie seemed in a significantly better mood than the first as Ned handed him a wad of cash. They weren't even subtle about it as the Ghoulie gave Ned a few straws of Jingle Jangle.

Betty leaned against the brick fence as Ned crossed her path again, and started making his way back down the road. Betty frowned and began following him.

She got back in her truck to continue her surveillance of Ned. He met with a few of his girls, and the redheaded Ghoulie walked up to Ned and crossed his arms over his chest. Ned merely rolled his eyes and swapped over the Jingle Jangle for another wad of cash. Betty raised her eyebrows and pulled her phone out.

"Garrickson." The director answered her phone call on the fourth ring.

"I've been following Ned. Only thing of interest to report is he seems to be buying Jingle Jangle off the Ghoulies and selling it back to them. Probably for a profit." Betty said as she watched Ned enter the truck stop's convenience store.

The director sighed. "Don't bother following him anymore. Lincoln just got back to me with some more info: the tip came from a phone booth near the truck stop. He reviewed the camera footage and it looked like it was just one of his hookers trying to get him in trouble."

"Great." Betty grumbled.

"We'll get this guy, Betty. Mark my words…"

It was almost Three AM when Betty realised that Polly hadn't reported back to Ned in a while. She frowned, and searched for the green truck among the vehicles parked at the truck stop. It was still there.

She reached into her glove box and pulled out a pair of binoculars. She squinted into them as she located the front window of the truck. The driver was still in there, and from what Betty could tell he was racking lines of coke - but he was alone.

She had a terrible nausea in her gut. A sickness brewing inside her as she dismounted her own truck and headed over to the green truck. One of the hookers eyed her suspiciously, but moved away as Betty walked past her.

The driver jumped in surprise as she ripped open the truck door and got into the cab.

"Yo, what the hell…" He gasped and dropped his phone. A white powdery dust fell over his lap, and he glared up at Betty. "You're paying for that, bitch."

But Betty just stared at him, her eyes piercing and serious. "Where's that girl?" She asked, her voice shaking with anger.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" he said, but his eyes twitched nervously.

Betty pulled her badge out of her pocket, and the man squirmed. "FBI. You just paid that woman for her services. That's a Class B Misdemeanour. Tell me where she went, and I might not arrest you."

"What, Patty?" He raised his hands, and they shook as he gulped and forced out his words. "She… she left…"

"Where?" Betty scanned the dashboard and located his ID dangling from the console. "Tell me where Patty went, John."

"She got in the car with her pimp…" John said, his eyes widening with fear.

Her insides froze. "No. No, she didn't." Betty was certain of this, because she'd been watching Ned for the past hour. And apart from one more shady drug deal, he'd barely left the store.

"Please, I have a wife and kids…" John hunched over slightly and grimaced.

Betty left him squirming in the truck and searched the area for the black Mercedes he claimed 'Patty' got into. She called for a search, and joined several FBI vehicles on the road as they scoured the South Side and the Lonely Highway.

But there was no sign of Polly.

….

"The Highway Killer claimed his next victim last night. The FBI have released information that they are currently searching for Riverdale resident, Polly Cooper. Polly was last seen at the Truck Stop in Riverdale's South Side, working as a prostitute under the alias 'Patty'. Sheriff Keller has asked anyone with information on an old black Mercedes to come forward—"

"Let's turn this shit off." Sweet Pea said as he silenced the television in the Elm Street living room. He glanced back at the red-eyed faces of Polly's twins, who were huddled together on the couch. Dagwood had his arm around Juniper, who was silently crying against his shoulder.

"Our Mom's a prostitute…" Dagwood noted quietly, and Sweet Pea gave Jughead a panicked look for help.

Jughead clutched Jordan to his chest tighter. "Hey now, don't listen to the RIVW… we all know how bad the quality's become since your grandma quit…"

Juniper sniffled. "Don't lie to us, Uncle Jug… you never lie, even when Mom gets mad at you for it…" She wiped her eyes and stared at him with a helplessly furious expression.

Dagwood's expression hardened, and looked up at Jughead as he rubbed Juniper's arm. "Is our Mom dead?"

Jughead sighed and moved to sit beside them. "Do you remember when you were little, and your Aunt Betty went missing?"

The twins shared a tearful look, then turned back to him and nodded. Sweet Pea anxiously crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his stance.

"Well, all the news reporters were saying that they thought your Aunt was dead, but your Mom kept telling you not to pay it any attention. She told you that Aunt Betty's a fighter, and she would find her way back home."

Dagwood frowned, but nodded in time with Juniper.

"Well, I've known your Mom for a long time, and I know she's just as strong, and just as much of a badass as her sister." He gave them a tired smile. "And with your Aunt Betty looking for her, the Highway Killer is the one who should be scared."

The twins weren't any happier, but they also weren't worse off after Jughead's comforting words. Sweet Pea mouthed a 'thank you' to Jughead, and he nodded up at his friend.

At the FBI office, Betty was infuriated.

She listened to Garrickson's direction, and angrily accepted his request that she keep up her surveillance at the truck stop. But she wanted to do more. She wanted to search every damn inch of every forest to look for the Highway Killer's lair. He had to have one. There was no way he'd gotten away with abducting so many women and holding them hostage for weeks at a time if he didn't have a local base of operations.

She knew all too well how men like him worked.

She was still fuming when she approached Special Agent Lincoln on his lunch hour. She clocked off early in order to follow him, made the short walk from the station to the diner, and sat down in an angry huff in front of him at a booth.

"Betty." He nodded at her cautiously. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"My Mom is down at the Sheriff's station right now, hysterical because her daughter's missing." Betty said in a deadly calm. "I've been blaming myself this whole time, thinking that I should have been keeping a better eye on my sister. She's getting married this Summer, did you know? Just landed a new job as a social worker. She has two teenage children at home who are missing their mother."

A pitiful expression came over his face as he looked at Betty. "Betty, I'm sorry… this can't be easy for you. But you have to know it's not your fault." He took a sip of his coffee and frowned.

"Oh, I do know it's not my fault." She said, gritting her teeth. "It's yours."

Lincoln coughed as he breathed in his drink. He placed the cup on its saucer and banged his chest with his fist. "I'm sorry, how is this my fault?" He choked out.

Betty folded her arms across her chest. "The next time you receive an anonymous tip, how about you try verifying its validity before you get your colleagues sent on a wild goose chase." She let out a frustrated gush of air. "If I hadn't been following Ned around half the night, I would have been at the truck stop when my sister was taken. I could have followed the car, and her children wouldn't be at home right now wondering if they're about to become orphans."

She expected an apologetic expression to befall Lincoln's face - or even just a curt look of embarrassment - but he stared at her in confusion when he asked: "Ah… what are you talking about?"

Betty raised her eyebrows. "The anonymous tip you got last night?" When he still looked quizzical, she pressed on. "From the phone booth? From one of Ned's…" a swirling anxiety rolled inside her chest. "Do you really have no idea what I'm talking about?"

A worried look came over Lincoln's face. "Betty, are you feeling okay?" He seemed genuine, and Betty was suddenly confused as to why he would try and hide something like that from her. The director already knew about it…

Unless…

"I'm sorry, Agent Lincoln…" She said, and let some of the fear shine through her voice. "So sorry, I… must have dreamt it. It's been such a long night, and I'm so… scared about Polly."

"I can't even imagine how terrified you must feel." He said kindly. "Especially with your history with TBK. Maybe… you should take the afternoon off. Go spend some time with your niece and nephew… I'm sure they could do with a friendly face right now."

Betty nodded slowly and swallowed. "That's a good idea. Thank you…" she slid out of the booth, and looked down at him pleadingly. "I know I have no right to ask this, but… do you think we could keep this between us? If the director finds out I had another… lapse in my mental health, he might try and force me to take leave, and I… I have to work this case. She's my sister…"

He nodded and gave her a sad smile. "Of course. Just make sure you get some rest, yeah? We're going to do everything we can to find Polly Cooper."

As Betty made her way outside of the door to Pop's, she almost ran right into Jughead.

"Betty." He said, surprised. He was holding Jordan, and the toddler smiled up at her in greeting. "I didn't expect to see you here. I just came in to ask Tabitha if I can have the day off tomorrow—"

"Come with me." She said quickly, and turned him back towards the parking lot.

"What? Why? What's happening?" He asked, confused, and followed her to his car.

Betty waited with an impatient stance as he pulled his keys out and unlocked the SUV. "I think I know who the Highway Killer is."

Jughead's eyes widened as he opened the back door to put Jordan in his car seat. "Really? Who?!"

"Not here." She shook her head quickly and got into the passenger seat. Jughead joined her momentarily, and locked the car doors once he was buckled in. "I don't have any evidence, just a… hunch. But I can't trust anyone in the FBI with this information. So, please… I really need your help." She said, and gave him a pleading look.

Jughead nodded and started the engine. "Where to, Sherlock?"

….

Jordan was entirely fascinated with Toffee as he followed the cat around Betty's apartment.

It was, by all standards, a nice apartment. Partially subsidised by the FBI, Betty could afford the one-bedroom place on her Special Agent's salary, and had decorated the apartment with some typical Betty Cooper-esque items - some floral cushions on her couch, a bubblegum pink rug beneath her coffee table - and some things that were very unusual for the woman; a movie poster on the wall next to her bedroom from a film called "I Spit On Your Grave" that Jughead knew was banned in several countries, and a dream catcher hanging in the kitchen that resembled a maple tree. She also had a poster from the movie "Rebel without a cause" - that one always made him smile when he looked at it.

Jughead kept an eye on Jordan as Betty pulled out a stack of files from her bedroom. The cat was too fast for Jordan to catch, but Jughead knew better than to let a toddler have free reign over an animal.

Betty slammed the files down on the coffee table in a huff. It was a mountain sized stack, and she sat down heavily next to Jughead on the couch. "Those are files on every missing girl that we suspect are victims of the Highway Killer." She opened a drawer beneath the coffee table, and Jughead's eyes widened as she pulled more files out from underneath and placed them next to the Manila mountain. "And these are the girls we know were victims."

"Jeez…" Jughead said, his eyebrows raising. "He's… active."

"Yes." Betty agreed. "The Highway Killer is what kept the FBI in Riverdale when they couldn't get anything on Hiram Lodge." She sighed and leaned back against the couch. "He's why I was brought onto the team. The director specifically asked for me, because I was familiar with the area and had insider knowledge."

Jughead nodded. "So, this insider knowledge… it sounded like at Pop's you'd figured out who the killer is." He glanced to his left to check on Jordan, but his son was merely wiggling one of Toffee's cat toys around. Toffee jumped up onto the end table, and morphed his limbs into a sleepy loaf.

"That's the problem." Betty groaned. "I think the killer is the director."

Jughead sucked in a shocked gulp of air. "The FBI director is the Highway Killer?"

Betty closed her eyes and placed her arm over her face. "He fits the profile… he's a middle aged white man, intelligent, has a successful day job and is highly charismatic. The last man who was with Polly claimed she got into the car willingly, but he also thought the guy was her pimp. I don't know whether that means he sweet talked her into his car or just scared her so much that she couldn't refuse."

"So, what do we do? Should you tell the other agents?"

"I can't." Betty groaned mournfully. "They all think I'm insane… I'm that out of control agent who had a nervous breakdown and drove off a bridge. And if the Highway Killer is Director Garrickson, there's going to be absolutely no evidence. He's too smart to leave traces of himself behind."

"What was it that made you think it's him?" Jughead asked cautiously.

Betty swallowed, but didn't take her arm away from her eyes. "He knew I was watching the truck stop last night. He also knew I'd be tailing Polly… He brought her in once and tried to get her to give up information about some of the missing sex workers, but it wasn't very helpful. All of those girls are distrustful of law enforcement." Betty sighed. "He gave me what I believe was a fake piece of information to get me out of the area… by the time I got back to the truck stop, Polly had already been abducted."

"That's… suspicious. But you're right, it's not exactly evidence." Jughead nodded, frowning.

"The killings also started around the same time as the FBI office reopened and he started the investigation into Hiram Lodge's prison."

Jughead agreed. "Suspicious too." He looked at Jordan and caught him reaching up to grab at Toffee's tail. "Jordan, no. Leave the cat alone."

Jordan frowned and sat back down on the floor. He had a grumpy expression on his face as he rolled one of the cat's balls along the floor.

Betty slowly lifted her hand away from her face. "You know, it was the director who pushed the idea that the Highway Killer was picking girls up in a truck… it made sense, because a lot of them were taken off the highway… and from the truck stop."

Jughead nodded slowly. "But Polly was taken in a sudan…"

Betty stared with a distant, unseeing expression at the poster of James Dean in an old fashioned car. She turned to Jughead, the ghost of an idea forming on her face. "Can I use your phone? I don't trust that Director Garrickson isn't monitoring mine…"

Less than a minute later, Reggie Mantle's voice came through the speaker. "Jughead? Long time no speak, bro. What can I do ya for?"

Betty answered. "It's Betty, actually. I have a question I need you to answer."

Reggie's voice sounded strained as he answered. "Fuck, is this FBI business? I don't want any trouble…" he trailed off nervously.

Betty frowned. "The fact that you're even asking that makes me incredibly suspicious."

"Look, I was going to come forward, I swear to God. I just… wanted to make sure it wasn't going to put the spotlight on me somehow…"

Jughead raised his eyebrows as a look of desperation came over Betty's face. "What did you do?" She asked furiously.

"Nothing!" Reggie said quickly. "I swear to God, nothing. It's just, well… I dated Polly a while back and it didn't really end well." He paused for a moment. "No offense, but I wasn't really down with her… ahh, profession, if you catch my drift. And trust me, this Mantle is not ready to be a step-father to half-grown up twins, as you well know."

Betty rolled her eyes. "Then let me cut to the chase - do you know anything about a vintage black Mercedes sudan?"

Reggie didn't answer right away, and Jughead held his breath. Finally he answered with a reluctant: "Yeah…"

"Tell me."

"Betty, I swear to God, I swear on my father's grave I didn't do anything to your sister." Reggie said in a rush. "I just… please, you've got to believe me."

"I do." Betty said sincerely. "I promise, if you tell me what you know then I'll make sure it doesn't fall back on you. I'll ensure you have FBI protection, on my honour as a government official."

It took some more convincing, but Reggie eventually came clean. He was in trouble with the Ghoulies, specifically their leader - Penny Peabody - because he'd refused to pay protection a few years back. They'd taken to 'confiscating' some of the vintage cars at his family's car lot as compensation. He'd taken a second job from Veronica as the manager of La Bonne Nuit to make up for the financial damages the confiscated cars had cost his business, and he told Betty that the black Mercedes was one such car.

"Who took it?" Betty asked, a thrill of anticipation in her voice. "Give me the Ghoulie's name, and I'll bring him in for questioning."

"That's the thing, I don't know." Reggie said. "That car was stolen over a month ago… I didn't report it because… well, because I assumed the Ghoulies had taken it. It's happened before; sometimes they'll come in and take one of my cars, and other times I'll just come into the lot and realise one is missing. One time I found one of my Volks Wagon Beetles burned out in the forest… "

Betty pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Do you have CCTV cameras at your car lot?"

"Ahh, no." Reggie admitted. "I kind of don't want any traceable evidence of some my more… questionable sales."

Betty didn't bother asking for details.

Jughead had Jordan settled on his lap as Betty paced nervously around her apartment living room. Jordan was asking questions that he answered, but the toddler's voice was going in one ear and out the other as Jughead waited for Betty to come up with a plan.

"What are you thinking?" He asked, worry starting to build in his voice.

"I'm thinking… that the only way I'm going to bring down Garrickson is if I catch him in the act."

…

The next day, Jughead bribed the twins with fifty dollars each and double cheeseburgers from Pop's for them (and Chandler, unofficially) to keep an eye on Jordan. Sweet Pea and Alice gave him equally worried and suspicious looks as he left the house. He drove over to SoDale, then schmoozed with the attendant at the gate to let him in to see Betty.

At her apartment, he watched as she applied way too much makeup and adjusted a revealing corset in the mirror of her bedroom.

"I don't want you to do this." He told her seriously.

Betty didn't look at him as she rummaged through her dressing table. "I have to do something, Jughead."

"This is dangerous." He said, and took a cautious step towards her.

"I'm an FBI field agent, Jughead. Everything in my job is dangerous." She said casually as she pulled out a black miniskirt. "Can you hand me my fishnet tights? They're in the top drawer beside the bed."

Jughead made his way to her bedside table and located the tights. "Please tell me you at least have an agent following you tonight." He practically begged.

She didn't answer.

"Betty." He said, the pain in his voice evident.

"I can't do this the official way, Jughead." Betty said, her voice calm and serious. "The FBI would never approve it, not after what happened with me and TBK. Besides, I can't trust anyone in that office right now… I put in leave, so as far as the FBI knows I'm hanging out with my family for the week. If Garrickson doesn't take the bait by then, I'll try calling my old director at the Boston headquarters. But this is my sister's life on the line, Jughead. I have to do this."

Jughead handed her the tights and watched as she removed her jeans and pulled on her skirt. "You're going out there with no protection. If something happens…"

"Something will happen, Jughead. I'm going to get my sister back, and get justice for all the girls Garrickson has murdered."

That night, Jughead called Tabitha and told her he'd be off work for the rest of the week. Then he went back upstairs, gave Jordan a kiss on the cheek from the floor where he played train track games with the other kids, and asked FP if he could mind him overnight.

FP gave Jughead a serious look. "Are you helping Betty look for Polly?" He asked.

Jughead kept his face neutral. "I could be."

FP sighed and scratched his forehead with his thumb. "Be careful… if you need me or Alice to watch him again, you just let me know."

Jughead borrowed FP's truck to take to the truck stop, and remained inside the cab on the first night. It only took Betty half an hour to figure out he was there, and she climbed inside the truck with a wistful expression on her face.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, not unkindly.

Jughead merely raised his eyebrows. "If you insist on going undercover as a prostitute then you need backup."

Betty merely smiled.

…

Halfway through the week, Betty climbed inside the truck and settled in next to Jughead.

"See anything suspicious?" She asked him as she reapplied her lip gloss in the mirror.

Jughead smirked. "We're in a red light district crawling with illegal prostitution and drug dealers. I'm gonna have to say yes to that."

"One of the hookers that Ned pimps out just asked me if I'm "Patty's" sister. I thought my cover was blown, but she just told me to watch my back and walked off. I think she might be one of her friends—" she paused mid sentence, then frowned. "Don't look, but I think I see Garrickson."

Jughead kept his eyes on her. "Already? That was fast…"

Betty kept her gaze forward. "He just got out of an old blue Pontiac… I'll have to call Reggie later and find out if the 'Ghoulies' stole another one of his cars." Her frown deepened. "He's talking to Ned… I wonder if they know each other. Shit." She turned to Jughead, and quickly crawled into his lap. "He's looking at the truck." She planted her lips on his, and he wrapped his arms around her back.

After a few seconds he pulled away from her. "Fraternisation on the job, Cooper? Totally unprofessional."

"Shush. What is he doing?"

Jughead subtly craned his neck around Betty's shoulders. "He's getting back into his car."

"You've got your dashcam on, right?"

"Yeah, always." Jughead confirmed, and watched as Garrickson drove away. "But is that going to be enough to pin the murders on him?"

"No." Betty sighed. "I think I'm going to have to make another phone call from your cell…" She slid back into the passenger seat and reached for his phone.

"Who are you calling? Reggie?" He asked, concern going over his features as she typed in a number.

She shook her head. "It's someone I'm sure you're gonna love hearing from."

Jughead frowned as the man on the other end of the line picked up. "Hello?" He said tiredly, and Jughead instantly recognised the voice.

"Glen. It's Betty." She said, her voice strained.

There was a long pause before he spoke again. "Well, well, well, never thought I'd hear from you again."

"I need you to track someone's phone for me." She said sternly, and an annoyed expression came over her face.

Glen laughed. "And why, exactly, should I be helping you?"

Betty grimaced. "Because I know that the director in Boston is retiring soon, and I know you want his position." She paused, and Glen remained silent. "And I'm sure bringing down a compromised FBI agent would look great on your resume."

There was silence on the other end of the line, and Jughead thought Glen may have hung up.

But then he answered, and Jughead didn't miss the hungry tone in his voice when he said: "Give me a name and I'll sort it out. I have to say, Betty, I've really missed having you in the office. Never a dull moment…"

…

It was snowing again, the night that Betty had no idea would be the night... The night she'd finally uncover the truth of who the Highway Killer was, and where he was keeping Polly...

"Please. Please be careful." Jughead begged her as she readied herself for another night of moonlighting as a street worker.

Betty turned to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm always careful." She kissed him softly, and Jughead leaned into her embrace.

He pulled back as worry made itself evident on his face. "I don't like this. You wandering around the truck stop is one thing, but actually walking down the Lonely Highway by yourself…"

She gave him a tight smile. "Glen's tracking my phone too, remember?" She said, and then breathed a long sigh. "He's an untrustworthy asshole, but he desperately wants this promotion."

Jughead shook his head. "I still don't like it."

"I know." She said kindly, and held her hand up against his neck. "But this will work. It has to."

Betty seemed certain of the phone tracking plan, but Jughead felt like it would be all to easy for the FBI director to conveniently leave the cell in his SoDale apartment before he went on his crime spree. With this in mind, Jughead decided to bring in his own reinforcements that night.

He called Charles last.

"What do you need, little bro? And please tell me it's related to whatever surveillance of questionable legality that Betty's been doing at the truck stop."

Jughead smiled. "You noticed that, did you?"

"Polly's my sister. I want to find her, too." Charles said solemnly. "I've been watching the highway the last couple of nights… haven't seen much of interest, to be honest."

"Well, do you think you can keep that up tonight? Between you and me, we can keep watch on all the Lonely Highway's entry points to Riverdale. I'll take the South Side. I called Sweet Pea, and he's going to stay on Route Fifty's North entry; Fangs is going to watch the South exit. Nobody is going to get in or out of Riverdale without one of us knowing about it." Jughead sighed. "The only thing we have to worry about is if the Highway Killer drives through any of the forest trails…"

"If he does, he won't get very far in a Pontiac." Charles said casually. When Jughead let out a surprised laugh, he followed it up with: "What? You two aren't the only ones who investigated Reggie Mantle's car lot…"

…

It was late that night when Betty called Jughead. The moon was full, and illuminated the highway's forest in a ghostly glow. Jughead kept his SUV hidden behind some overgrown bushes, but he had a clear enough view of the road that he saw every truck and every car that past him.

None of which was a blue Pontiac.

He answered the call immediately. "You okay?" Were the first words out of his mouth.

She sighed. "Yeah…" Her voice shook a little, and Jughead's chest made a squeezing sensation. "I just… wanted to hear your voice. Have you seen anything yet?"

Jughead swallowed. "Nothing. I've been periodically talking to the others, and they've got nothing to report either."

Betty was quiet on the other end of the call. "This might have been a mistake… being on this highway is…" She swallowed, and her voice became weak. "It's bringing back some dark memories."

Jughead felt his heart beating. "If this is too much, you don't have to keep it up. I'm only five miles down the road, let me come get you."

"No, I'm not giving up." She said fiercely, and Jughead couldn't help but feel proud of her strength. "I just need to think about something else."

Jughead stretched out his right hand. "Hey, I was going to ask you this tomorrow, but… I have my carpal tunnel surgery on the third of March. I was wondering… would you mind taking me? I won't be able to drive afterwards."

Betty released a gush of air. "Of course. I'd be happy to. And actually, I was thinking about this earlier…" she said, and her voice held a nervous awkward tone when she spoke again. "What if, while you're under… I watch Jordan for you?"

A warm feeling that was a mix between affection and excitement bubbled up in Jughead's chest. "You really want to do that?"

"Yeah, I do." She said, and Jughead could practically see the smirk on his face. "If I'm going to be sleeping with his dad behind his back, the least I can do is get to know him a little better."

Jughead let out a breathy laugh. "True. It's the honorable thing to do." He said solemnly. Then he paused as a smile came over his face. "Does this mean…"

"I'm ready." Betty said earnestly. "I've appreciated taking things slow with you, and it means a lot to me that you've been so patient recently while I've been so… uncomfortable with sex." She said, and Jughead wished he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. "The last few months, this investigation has been hard on me, and it's been difficult to separate those fears from my own sex life."

Jughead understood what she meant. Barely three weeks into secretly dating (well, semi-secretly, since both of them knew exactly what the raised eyebrows and smirks they received from Alice and FP implied whenever they two saw them together) Betty had hit a roadblock in her mind with physical affection. It had been hard for her to admit, but although she could get through daily life while investigating the Highway Killer without it bringing up awful flashbacks and terrified nightmares, getting into the mood became something of an effort.

The last thing Jughead had wanted to do was rush her. He was so happy to have her back in his life, for real this time, that he'd be willing to wait decades for sex if it was what she needed. Just being in her presence, going on occasional dates to the run-down old Bijou, giving each other knowing looks during family dinners, sending smirks each other's way when she came into Pop's with Polly and the kids, or even going to the park with Jordan and spending time together with just the three of them - all of the time he spent with her just made him fall deeper and deeper in love with her.

But of course, if she was ready to take the next step in their relationship, a real next step, and not just using each other for the frustrated emotional and sexual release that had unfortunately become common during their years apart… well, Jughead wasn't going to deny her.

"But if we're doing this, I want to pull out all the stops." She laughed softly. "We're not just going to my apartment and hooking up. I want to be romanced, Jughead. You even have to buy me dinner first."

Jughead laughed, and felt a grin coming over his face. "I was going to make a hilarious joke, but honestly? I could do with a bit of romance myself, Betts."

"Well that's great to hear, because I—" Betty paused mid sentence, and when she continued there was a deep anxiety present in her voice. "Have you seen a red Mustang drive past you? It's an old classic, with two thick white stripes down the front."

Jughead went on high alert. "No… I don't think so." He said, and his senses became sharper as he stared out into the night.

Betty swallowed. "I can't be sure, but… I think I've seen this same car three times… like it's circling back…"

Jughead raised his head as Betty told him the licence plate. There were no cars coming his direction yet, but that didn't mean the Mustang wasn't on its way… he sent the licence plate number and the car's description to Charles, Fangs and Sweet Pea in their group chat, and waited nervously for the Mustang.

A minute later, it still hadn't shown up. "Hey Betty…"

"It's coming back." Betty said, her voice shaking. "Jughead… I'm about to be abducted."

…

Panic overcame Jughead, but Betty hung up before he could tell her to run. A part of him knew, however, that it wouldn't have mattered. She would have let herself be taken anyway just to find out where Polly was.

He forced the SUV into gear and sped out of the shrubs. If the car came his way he'd see it, and if it didn't… well, he was driving fast enough that maybe he could catch up to it.

He called Charles as he got closer to the truck stop.

"Jug. What happened?"

"He took her." Jughead said in a rush as he drove past the truck stop. "You keeping an eye on the road?"

Charles grunted in affirmation. "If he comes this way I'll know about it. I already called Keller and gave him the description. I don't trust any of the FBI, but I highly doubt we have to worry about him."

Red and blue lights flashed behind him, and he groaned. "Fuck, cops are following me. I'm speeding."

"Marked or unmarked?"

Jughead slowed down the car. "I can't tell." Up ahead of him, a car pulled out of the gas station and into the middle of the road. Lights began flashing from the roof, and loud sirens reached his ears. "Damnit. They have me boxed in. Call Glen, he was tracking the director's phone."

"Will do." Charles said. "And don't worry, I'll talk to the others. He's not going to get away."

Jughead pulled the car over to the curb and slammed his fist against the dashboard. He cursed again, and tried to pull himself together as a cop approached the window.

She wasn't wearing a uniform, and Jughead looked up at her nervously as she held a flashlight up to Jughead's face. She tapped her knuckles on the glass, and Jughead groaned as he wound the window down.

"You trying to kill some, dickhead?" The cop said gruffly as she frowned. "Do you realise how fast you were going?"

Jughead swallowed as another cop got out of the unmarked car in front of him. This one was a man, and he was wearing a pristine suit that rivaled the ones Betty often wore to work.

"I'm trying to stop someone getting killed." Jughead said, desperation evident in his voice. "My girlfriend just got abducted by the Highway Killer."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "That's a new one…" She said, and an incredulous look came onto her face. "There haven't been any trucks coming past this road, so good luck proving that in Traffic Court."

"No, seriously, you don't understand…" Jughead gasped out.

The other cop arrived at the car and stood menacingly beside his partner. The woman turned to him and said: "This guy reckons he's speeding because he's chasing the Highway Killer."

"Really?" The cop snorted, then turned his gaze to Jughead. "The likelihood of that is…" he frowned, and tilted his head to the side. "You're Polly Cooper's step-brother."

The woman looked at her partner in surprise. "How do you know that?"

Lincoln gave her an incredulous look. "I'm the lead on her case, Wendy. It's my job to know."

Jughead nodded furiously. "Yes, I am. And my girlfriend, Betty Cooper. She's in the FBI…"

"Betty?" Wendy asked. She pursed her lips and gave Jughead a once over. "Lincoln, you think this guy's legit?"

The male cop - Lincoln - crossed his arms over his chest. "That's a bold lie if it is one."

"I'm not lying." Jughead could hear the pleading tone in his voice. "Please, you have to believe me… Betty was trying to bait the Highway Killer into abducting her so she could find her sister. They're in an old fashioned red Mustang."

Lincoln turned his eyes towards Wendy. "I saw a red Mustang driving past not even five minutes ago…"

Wendy sighed. "I swear to God if you're wrong, Lincoln, I'm not taking the fall with Garrickson."

Lincoln nodded. "Fair. I'll call him now and tell him it was all my idea—"

"No!" Jughead said loudly, and the cops both whipped their heads towards him. "You can't… you can't trust him. Betty thinks he is the Highway Killer."

Wendy looked exasperated. "Have you taken any illicit substances tonight?"

"God, no, please." He turned his eyes to Lincoln. "You're Special Agent Lincoln, right? Betty's mentioned you before…" He killed the engine and took out his keys, and offered them up to the agent. "Look, if I'm wrong you can drug test me, or arrest me, I don't even care, but I swear on my son's life that I'm not on drugs, and I'm not making this up… Agent Cooper is with the Highway Killer right now, and the killer is your boss!"

They both shared a nervous look for only a moment more before Lincoln finally sighed. "Fine, but you're riding with me… I'm not having you drift around the corners like a maniac."

They searched the area for more than half an hour before Jughead got a call from Charles. He kept the phone on speaker as he answered. "Charles, any news?"

"Nothing to report on my end. Glen said Garrickson's phone last pinged off of a cell tower in SoDale, so that's a dead end. And the others haven't seen red Mustangs leaving Riverdale."

Lincoln looked at Jughead's phone curiously. "Charles Smith?"

Charles paused. "Lincoln? Is that you?"

"Yeah… aren't you meant to be in prison right now?"

"I only got four years. Dude, come on, you're not that bad at math…"

Jughead huffed in frustration. "Can we have this cosy catch up later? My girlfriend is missing right now."

"Right." Lincoln cleared his throat. "If you're certain he hasn't left the area, then he has to be somewhere still in Riverdale."

"Probably took her somewhere he can wait out all the attention." Charles said solemnly. "Maybe his apartment in SoDale?"

Jughead shook his head. "Except, he wouldn't even realise he's got people looking for him, unless your partner gave him the heads up."

"She wouldn't." Lincoln said quickly. "She's always thought something was weird, and just… off about Garrickson. She's not going to snitch on you unless she's certain you're wrong."

"Then where the hell are they?" Charles said angrily. "Where the hell did this creep take my sisters?!"

"His lair has to be somewhere in Riverdale…" Jughead said slowly.

Lincoln shook his head. "It can't be. We've searched every possible building - even this weird bomb shelter bunker Betty knew about. We've scoured all the local forests. There isn't anywhere in Riverdale that he could be hiding them."

Jughead felt a strong, definitive realisation as he lowered the phone. "Yes, there is."

Lincoln looked at him incredulously.

"What's the one place in Riverdale that the FBI wouldn't search for a serial killer's lair?"

…

Betty groaned as she awoke into consciousness. The side of her head was throbbing, and she felt dizzy and nauseated. She tried to move, but her wrists were bound with handcuffs to an uncomfortable metal chair. The cool metal felt freezing against her skin as she shivered. She swallowed, and tried not to let the fear overwhelm her.

The Highway Killer was Director Garrickson.

Not that the information was really going to help her if she couldn't get out of his lair.

"Betty…" a familiar voice croaked from beside her.

Betty opened her eyes and turned her head to the right. All-consuming relief filled her bones. "Polly… you're okay…"

"Debatable." She said, and laughed nervously. "Not sure if you noticed, but we're kind of trapped down here."

Betty groaned as she sat up straighter. "Where is here, by the way?"

She nodded her head towards the opposing wall. "Look."

Betty turned her gaze towards where Polly was looking. An old fashioned TV monitor sat on a cabinet, and a live feed of a darkened office blinked staticky on the screen. "That's Riverdale's FBI headquarters…" Betty said slowly. "Are we… Are we in the basement?"

Polly nodded. "He keeps the feed going so we can watch all the agents… researching us. Trying to find us… so that we know there's no hope of getting out of here…"

Betty frowned as she assessed the room. "We?" She asked tentatively.

Tears sprang to Polly's eyes. "There was another girl in here… he kept her down here for two months… she's…" Polly swallowed. "He already killed her. Two days ago… he took her body out early this morning." She let out a single sob, but forcefully composed herself. "I knew her, Betty… she used to work at the truck stop."

Nausea rolled in his stomach. "Did he… hurt you?" Anxiety increased inside of her as she waited for the answer.

"No." She said, and Betty's shoulders slumped in relief. "He was… waiting for you." She swallowed again. "He wants you to watch…"

"Polly… we can get out of here. There's a bobby pin in my hair; I'm going to try and get my head closer to your hand and—" Betty started to say, but then she clamped her mouth as the door beside the TV slammed open.

Garrickson smirked as he strolled inside. He was holding a mug of coffee, and walked closer to the girls. "Agent Cooper, so glad you could join us."

"Go to hell, Garrickson." She spat, and set a glare onto her face.

Garrickson laughed. "I'm sure I will, Cooper. But not before I've shown proper appreciation to the Black Hood's daughters."

Polly sniffled beside her, and shuffled backwards in her chair. Betty raised her eyebrows. "What do you think is going to happen now, Garrickson?" She asked, trying to keep her cool. "My boyfriend will go public with this. There's no way out for you, even if you kill us."

Garrickson let out a laugh. It chilled Betty to her core. "Any evidence you and Jughead have collected is just circumstantial. Besides, everyone knows what a conspiracy nut Forsythe Pendleton Jones the third is. Even if by some wild chance this falls back on me, I'm sure I can get his wife to testify to his over-exaggerations, dramatisations, and blatant disregard for the truth."

"Ex- wife." Betty mumbled defiantly.

"By then I'll be living in Boston, running their headquarters, while this little FBI office loses funding and gets shut down, because there's not even a single piece of evidence available against Hiram Lodge to justify continuing that investigation." A smug look came over his face, and he took a self-satisfied sip of his coffee.

Polly made a high pitched, closed-mouthed gasp that was barely audible. But the noise made Betty look in Polly's line of sight. There was movement on the TV, and Betty made the startling realisation that there were FBI agents stalking through the office - guns drawn, helmets on, bullet-proof vests covering their chests… they were going to find her and Polly.

Betty just needed to keep Garrickson talking.

"You mentioned my father." Betty said quickly, and Garrickson lifted his gaze to assess her. "Are you a… fan of his?" She kept her glare piercing his eyes. "Is that why you wanted me on your team?"

"Once again, Betty. You've proven yourself to be intuitive and insightful." He said, and he had the audacity to look impressed. "Do you realise what a prize you are? The daughter of a serial killer, who shares his proclivity for violence, and spends her time stalking the most depraved members of the human race?"

Betty swallowed as she tried to keep her voice even. "Why are you doing this? You're an FBI Agent. You spend your time looking for ways to rid the streets of serial killers… why would you become one?"

The FBI Agents on the screen were circling around, and Betty's heart raced as several of them disappeared from the screen.

"I'm trying to rid the streets of other depravities. Crimes that are a disgrace to the population." He said, and stared down into his coffee mug.

She let out an incredulous laugh. "You mean prositution? That barely even compares to rape, or murder, or any of the other sick, twisted, disgusting things you've done to those girls. And some of them weren't even sex workers! They were teenage runaways, or people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. They were innocent!"

But Garrickson merely continued to stare into his mug. "Nobody is entirely innocent. Your father knew that, that's why his work was so endearing."

"My father was crazy." Betty said, as anger boiled inside her. "And so are you, if you think any of your actions are justified."

"Justified or not, the means are irrelevant. It is the end that matters." He said, and with that, he looked up, gave Betty one final smirk, and turned his eyes onto Polly.

Polly screamed as he poured the coffee over her chest.

"Stop it!" Betty shrieked, and Polly shivered as she turned her head away from him.

The door burst open.

"Freeze! FBI! Get on the ground!"

…

"Polly!" Sweet Pea called, and ducked under the police tape in order to run to her.

Polly pushed past the agents that led her and Betty out of the FBI headquarters, and threw her arms around him. She cried into his chest as he held her close, and buried his head in her hair.

"You smell like coffee." Slipped out of his mouth, and she let out a tearful giggle as she gripped the back of his shirt.

There were FBI Agents everywhere. Blue and red flashing lights surrounded the building, and Betty found it all a little disorientating. She thought she might have seen Sheriff Keller in the mix, and maybe even Charles.

But there was only one face she was searching for.

She saw him struggling to get beneath the tape, and got a glimpse of his messy black hair. And then he was there, his arms wrapped tightly around her, and Betty knew that finally, she was safe.

"I was so scared." Jughead gasped out, and Betty pulled back to look at his face.

"I told you it would work." She said, and smiled weakly.

"You did." Jughead held her close with one hand, and with the other he lightly brushed her cheek. "You're bleeding…"

Betty reached up to touch the sore spot on her head. She pulled her hand away and inspected the blood on her fingers. "I think I'm concussed. He knocked me out pretty good."

Jughead pulled her closer again. And Betty heard the frantic voice of her mother calling out behind him.

"Polly! Betty! Oh my God!" She raced over to her daughters, FP hot on her heels, and looked momentarily distraught as she looked between them both. Polly reacted first, and threw her arms around her mother. Betty untangled herself from Jughead to join in the hug, and she felt Alice's arm snake its way around her waist. "When Charles called us… God, I really thought I'd lost you both."

"Aw, Mom." Betty said, and leaned her head against her mother's shoulder. "It's gonna take more than a serial killer to get rid of the Cooper sisters."

Alice let out a tear-filled gasp of a laugh.

Charles made his way over to the group, and Polly pulled out of Alice's embrace to hug him too. She squeezed him tight as she said: "I missed you all so much. Are the twins okay? They must be so scared…" Then she paused, and looked up at FP quizzically. "Wait a second, if you're all here… who's watching the kids?"

FP answered. "Archie and Veronica have them."

Betty raised her eyebrows as she stepped away from Alice and moved closer to Jughead. "All four of them?"

"Yep." FP said, amused. "I'm sure Archie and the kids are fine, but I think Veronica might pass out before we get back."

"Speaking of passing out." Jughead said, and wrapped his arm around Betty as she swayed on her feet. "You need to be looked at by a paramedic. Both of you do." He added and nodded towards Polly.

"In a minute. I haven't seen my fiancé in over a week." She said decidedly, and turned around to draw Sweet Pea into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist, appearing entirely unconcerned about the surrounding crowd.

"Come on." Jughead whispered into Betty's ear, then led her towards the med van loitering beside the FBI headquarters.

Betty leaned into Jughead. "Let's go back to my apartment. I'm going to pull you into bed with me, and I'm not letting you leave until the sun comes up."

"You're thinking about sex now?" Jughead let out a scandalised laugh. "You need to go to the hospital, Betty. Much as I'd love to take you up on your offer, I'm not ravishing you until you've been checked out by a doctor. Besides, I thought you wanted romance?"

"I don't care anymore. You can take me behind that dumpster if you want." She grinned up at him, then an emotional glaze came over her eyes and her smile faded. "I just need you. Right now."

Jughead shook his head. "Later, okay? I promise." He nudged her with his elbow, and paused just out of earshot of the paramedics. "Besides, with how wound up I am right now, I don't think I could get horny even if you danced naked in front of me while eating a cheeseburger from Pop's…"

…

Despite Betty's adamant claims that she didn't want or need romance, Jughead still gave her exactly that.

It wasn't until a week later. Betty took some more time off from the FBI while they finalised their investigation and compiled evidence against Director Garrickson. The story made international headlines, and the Cooper-Jones-Smith family all kept the television off and avoided social media as they readjusted to regular life.

Betty spent most of her time with Jughead and Jordan. Jordan thrived off of the attention, and Betty's heart raced the first time he reached out to take her hand and drag her into the yard to show her how he could climb up onto the swing set all by himself.

Jughead couldn't keep the grin off of his face as he watched them.

Jellybean and Britta visited the family again ("Any excuse to leave the sun and surf, I always say," Jellybean had joked as she walked in the door), and Jellybean surprised Betty and Polly by giving them both a simple silver bracelet with a circular pendant to match the one on her own wrist.

"It's kind of cheesy." She said nervously as she handed the bracelets over to the blonde sisters. "But, I was feeling emotional at the airport jewellery store. They were really more of an impulse buy, if anything… let's not get too crazy about it."

Britta rolled her eyes. "Sure, we're all just going to ignore the fact that you pulled them out of a Tiffany & Co. gift bag."

Jellybean shot her a warning glare, but Britta merely chuckled and shook her head.

Betty lifted up the bracelet so she could properly inspect the inscription on the pendant.

Sisters forever

Never apart

Maybe in distance

But never at heart

Betty smiled up at her, touched.

Polly teared up. "Aww, JB. This is so sweet." She said, and moved forwards to give Jellybean a hug.

"Nope, no tears." Jellybean said forcefully, but her voice wavered. "Seriously, Polly… you know I don't do emotions well…"

"Well, I do emotions great." Betty joked, and joined in on the hug.

Jughead looked up at Charles. "Are you going to get me and Chandler cute brothers bracelets?" He grinned.

Charles snickered. "How about a bro fist?" He suggest, and held up his knuckles.

Jughead laughed.

On Saturday night, Jughead asked FP and Alice to take care of Jordan for him while he took Betty out for a night of romance. Jordan was thrilled by the prospect of Grandparent time, and Jughead couldn't help but smile when he realised how far his toddler had come emotionally. Gone were the days that he'd scream and cry when Jughead left the room - now he became excited when he could avoid the watchful eye of his father and get up to mischief with Chandler and the twins, and looked forward to playdates with River and Blossom.

"Should I expect you back tonight?" FP asked Jughead, a smirk coming over his face.

Jughead grinned. "Probably not."

FP chuckled. "Are you going to come clean to the family about who you've been dating?"

Jughead shrugged and turned around to locate his son. "Probably not."

FP watched as Jughead lifted Jordan up into his arms and cuddled him close. "You do know that you're not fooling anyone, right?" He said as he crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow.

Jughead ignored him. "See you later, Buddy. You be good for Grandma and Grandpa tonight, okay?" He said to Jordan.

Jordan nodded, then tilted his head to the side with a curious expression. "Daddy, what's a adult sleepover?"

Jughead was so surprised he almost dropped the child. "Who did you hear that from?"

"Aunty Polly." Jordan said honestly. "She said you is having a adult sleepover with Aunty Betty." He looked up at Jughead with quizzical eyes. "What is that? Can I have one?"

Jughead's face burned as he looked towards FP.

FP raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, you heard the kid. He didn't hear it from me."

Jughead was still trying to shake off the embarrassment as he picked Betty up an hour later. Her hair was out, and the curls of her blonde locks framed her smiling face. Her coat was unbuttoned, and she looked stunning in her form fitting red shirt and jeans. Her boots covered half of her calves, and Jughead swallowed as the image of how he might remove those boots sprang into his mind.

"Hey." She said slowly as she got into the passenger seat. She leaned over and planted a kiss on his lips, then pulled back with a smirk. "Do I smell Pop's?"

"You mean the most romantic food on the planet? You sure do." He grinned back at her and nodded to the take-out bag on the seat behind them.

"Wait, so… if you already have dinner here… where are we going?" She asked curiously.

"Oh. Somewhere filled with romance. The perfect place to host our adult sleepover."

Betty laughed hard, and Jughead was filled with joy at the sound.

Their destination - he was sure Betty had already figured out when they were less than a minute away - was the Bunker.

"I have to admit, driving here in an SUV sure beats walking." Betty commented as she approached the hatch.

Jughead pulled the take out bag out of the back of the car. "Wait, I need to go in first so I can artistically position our fries. Also, you need to close your eyes before you go down the ladder."

Betty giggled. "You're really taking this romance thing to the next level."

"Yeah, well." Jughead shrugged and smiled. "You deserve it."

Betty was impressed with the grand reveal. He 'artistically' presented their Pop's meal on the table, and had even added several scented candles and some of Betty's favourite flowers to the arrangement. There were a lot of candles lit in the Bunker, which gave the whole place an ethereal, glowing hue that brought a smile to her face.

He'd folded the bed up and moved it out of the way, and replaced it with a roll out mattress, on which he'd neatly placed a floral quilt and several inviting looking pillows.

"It looks beautiful down here." Betty smiled up at him. "You even changed the bed, and the linen?"

Jughead grimaced. "I had to. They were the same blankets from when we were in high school. You do not want to know what was growing on them…"

Betty laughed. "Probably for the best that we don't risk bringing home bed bugs."

"Agreed."

They ate their food, and the entire time the energy in the air was charged with heat and anticipation. Betty let her lips slowly linger around the straw of her milkshake in a way that she knew drove Jughead crazy. Jughead kept the conversation away from anything too sexual, and yet he made several double entendres that she knew weren't an accident.

And when they were done, he still hadn't made a move to undress her, so Betty decided to take matters into her own hands.

She stood up and made her way towards him, and he gave her no resistance as she straddled his lap and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She kissed him hard, and slid her tongue into his mouth. He moaned into her open lips, and she sighed as he pulled away and kissed her jaw. She moved her hands down to the buckle of his belt, but he stilled her movements, and she groaned.

"Don't tease me, Jug." She said quietly. "Do you have any idea how desperately I want you right now?"

"Probably as much as I want you." He said against her neck. She shivered as he sucked on the skin, and kissed a trail down her neck. "But hasn't it been nice…" He said as he slid her coat back off of her shoulders. "To slow things down?"

He stood up, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips. He continued the slow and steady pace as he walked them over to the mattress, and laid her down beneath him. She placed both her hands on either side of his face, and they kissed slowly. So slowly.

"By the way." He said as he moved down to kiss her neck. "I got a new tattoo since the last time you saw me naked." He lifted her shirt slightly and slid down her body to plant a kiss against the skin above her belly button. "It's kind of big, and it's on my chest, so… appropriate reactions are: wow, Jughead, that's so hot, or silence."

Betty breathed a laugh. "Um… I kind of got one too." She admitted, and he looked up to see a blush on her cheeks.

"Betty Cooper has a tattoo?" Jughead smirked, and his eyes widened in surprise as she nodded.

"A few days ago… one of the kids who hangs out at the Community Center is learning, so I volunteered to be a practise subject." She slid up the sleeve of her red shirt, and exposed the tattoo that covered half of her left forearm.

"Are those vines? With… maple leaves?" He asked, and she nodded slowly. "I like it. It's pretty."

"Thanks." She said, and then lifted her shirt completely off her body. A red lace bra was hiding underneath, and Jughead swallowed as he looked up at her.

"You look so beautiful right now." He said gruffly, and she ran her fingers through his hair.

They kept that slow pace - but not too slow. Her breathy gasps and moans echoed throughout the Bunker, and Jughead kissed her and worshipped every inch of her body. The feel of their skin pressing together, and every slight brush of their hands against each other, ignited their burning passion, and Jughead got lost in the pleasure of being with Betty.

Jughead slid one of his hands through Betty's fingers and held her hand beside her head as he kissed her breasts. She gripped the skin of his backside, pulling him as close to her as he could get. He rolled them over and watched her move above him, enjoying the tantalising feel of her nails digging into his shoulders before he pulled her down and pressed her body firmly against his own.

Afterwards, Jughead was filled with endorphins and serotonin and all the other chemicals of bonding and love and sex. He felt euphoric, and relaxed, and Betty laid her head against his shoulder and trailed her fingers along the tattoo on his chest.

"I like it." She said and looked up at him with a smile. "It reminds of your beanie."

Jughead traced circles on her back. "Me too… I saw it and was feeling nostalgic and like… I wanted to get back to my normal self. I didn't really like who I was becoming, and I had so much pain inside me, but… I needed to be myself, the best version of myself, for Jordan's sake."

She nodded. "You're a really great father. Jordan's lucky to have you as his Dad." She said, and blinked away the moisture in her eyes.

"Thank you..." Jughead smiled down at her. "So, what's the story behind your tattoo?" He asked, and recalled the image of it in his mind. He couldn't see said tattoo, because her arm was tucked between them, but he still remembered the twisting, looping vines that danced across her skin, and the maple leaves that hung from the stems.

Betty paused for a moment before answering. "I wanted something that would cover up my scars… my self harm scars." She swallowed. "I can't erase the bad things I put myself through when I was so low that I couldn't see past the hopelessness I felt. But… I can grow from it." She closed her eyes, and when she opened them a single tear rolled down her cheek. "I also… I don't know if you saw it, but I also had two dates tattooed along the vines. They're really small, and hard to pick out, but I know they're there."

"Which dates?" He asked curiously.

She sighed. "It's the… dates that I lost the babies." She wiped her tears away and smiled. "I can't erase them either… they existed, and they were a part of me… so, I never want to forget them. But maybe now, losing them won't hurt so much."

Jughead leaned down and kissed her forehead. "That's really beautiful, Betts."

She kissed his chest and leaned her head back down. "You know… I'm glad we waited for this… it was worth it. And, it kind of feels more… special, this way. Like we're not wasting our time together."

Jughead rubbed her arm. "I don't want to waste any more time with you." He paused as he thought more about how he felt. "We spent so much time pushing each other away when we should have been leaning on each other and supporting each other. I don't ever want to take you for granted. I love you."

"I love you, too." She said softly, and reached her neck up to kiss him. "You know… maybe it wasn't so much a waste of time as a… learning experience. We had a lot of growing up to do, and everything we've been through has only made us stronger people. I'm glad that, at least now, we've found our way back to each other. Forever, this time, I hope." She showed her teeth as she grinned, and then snuggled back into his chest.

"Yeah, forever." He agreed, and then swallowed back the nerves. "Speaking of." He said, and Betty watched him curiously as he shifted to sit up. She did the same, and hugged the blanket up to her chest to fend off the winter chill in the air.

"Speaking of…?" She probed, and tilted her head to the side, her eyes lighting up in anticipation.

Jughead reached his arm out to find his backpack. He'd stored it down here earlier, before he'd even finished setting up the Bunker. He pulled it closer, and angled it in such a way that Betty couldn't see what he was pulling out. When he turned back towards her, her eyes widened as she realised what was in his hand.

"Betty…" He asked quietly, and opened up the small black box. "Will you marry me?"

---

THANK YOU FOR READING - epilogue coming soon! chuck on an alert if you want to know when I update, but otherwise, I hope to see you soon xoxoxo