Woo-hoo, another chapter! :-D

Thank you so much for all of the encouragement as I take on this story. It is so appreciated, and I'm very glad folks seem to be enjoying so far!

Skyrider45, that is so exciting to hear about potential new writing on the way... :-D The workload is always the problem (food and bills and stuff get honorable mention, though ;), but a vacation in February sounds kind of perfect. Enjoy! Ending things is SO hard, yes. For me in particular, perhaps, though maybe it's just like this for everyone. It is easy to get attached. :) I'm excited for Betty to get more of a role in this story, too, and seeing how things play out for her and Agent Quinn! Thanks for the encouragement about the title (yay!) and Archie and music coming back. I love that part of his character, but it has been missing for a while in the show. What a great teaser for your writing! And yes, the spirit sometimes moves and those later scenes take up time and attention. I always enjoy it because then I can embed things in the current chapter that come together (like magic!) later... :-D

Living Lucid Dream, thanks so much for the wonderful reviews! I am so glad you're enjoying Clark's role (and I had to piece together the Joaquin bit as well, so I am glad that read as an elegant solution! I feel like a mini-story about their two weeks together would be fun... :-D), and I had so much fun just letting everyone relax and bond at the end of ST - in part just to underscore that Jug's outburst was ignoring some obvious dynamics around the house (they're trying!). But yeah, that conflict was coming and I'm not sure it's 100% resolved. And 'ominous' is the word! I am so, so glad you feel spoiled (as opposed to, say, 'inundated'? :-D), and I'm still shocked by how quickly/much I've written this past year. That's the number one reason I am nervous about saying this is the final story: it's become such a great outlet. We shall see what comes! Thank you so much for the feedback on ST standing alone. I have actually been thinking that even if it does, this one might need AWP at the very least... because we are going back to Toronto! And yes, the history and all help a great deal in understanding the strength of reactions when things happen. Well, I tried. :) Clark and Betty are definitely in position for fun arcs (yay!), and I am reassured that Archie playing and writing songs is making sense; he hasn't done that in a while in the show (or in five stories in the series, apart from a bit in DIAV), so that is great to hear! Therapy in public spaces might not be the best idea, though, I agree, so it's good he's running the songs by folks first. :)

Enjoy!

-Button

00000

"What time is the dance?" FP asked Brand. They were working together in the kitchen on Saturday morning, Brand making bacon and FP overseeing the waffle iron, while Jughead and Clark walked Trig together before a late breakfast.

"I don't know when it officially starts. We're going over early for 'moral support,'" Brand made a face. "This is really too much. The kid owes me big time."

"Oh, you didn't dream of one day being a chaperone for a highschool dance? You keep talking like Jug's your ward, and I have been willing to turn a blind eye as long as it's not upsetting him, but if the pressure's getting to be too much for you-,"

"Wow, FP. How many Riverdale High events have you chaperoned?" Brand turned to him, amused. "Let's hear the almighty fatherly number, and then we can commence with the casting of stones."

"I'm just saying, it's all... of a piece." FP raised an eyebrow at Brand. "Don't complain about getting some of what you've been angling for. That's not fair to anyone. I know you've drafted your live-in personal assistant to help, too, unless Clark's found a way to get out of going."

"So, what time are the Serpents coming over?" Brand asked with an overly innocent tone. It was a guess, but an educated one. "That is why you're confirming in triplicate that the house will be empty for a solid stretch of time, right?"

FP winced. "Keep your voice down. Who knows when they'll be back from playing Trigger Ball, and Jughead's been trying to overhear stuff ever since Alice told him about seeing me at the Wyrm."

"He has not; he's been read into the case now, and I think he's clear on your role." Brand gave him a skeptical look. "And if he was trying to overhear stuff, he'd be overhearing stuff. He's a grade-A sneak when he wants to be. I bet he's even figured out that the new SAC is trying to pin you down for interrogation. Sorry about that, by the way."

Brand had made his level best pitch for keeping FP on payroll for a few more months, since he was convinced that the Southside was still in some measure of turmoil and that FP might be useful if anything else came up. Also, dropping him from payroll and then picking him back up randomly would not be fair to FP - or cost-effective for the FBI.

Particularly once Brand finished coaching FP on playing some more hardball if the new SAC tried pulling that on him.

Nevertheless, despite Brand's best efforts, the SAC was working overtime on finding a time to meet with FP and discuss his role as asset. As far as Brand could tell, that was not a good sign.

"Maybe. I guess you're probably right. It's even possible that Jughead's actively trying to resist the urge to watch me - but now he's worrying about plans and details," FP amended. "Intentional or not, he's tracking what I'm doing on a daily basis. I think being read in may have made him even more nervous that I'm going to get hurt or disappear on him. Anyway, I'd just as soon keep him away from the Serpents."

"Inviting them over to the house makes perfect sense, then," Brand deadpanned. "Good plan."

"It's mostly the younger set. I'm planning to teach them some board games, keep it quiet and relaxed, and give them a safe place to be once in a while." FP shrugged. "There wasn't a good location in the Southside for what I have in mind. I'd like to make it regular, but I need to figure out how to keep Jug out of the mix."

Brand smirked. "Never gonna happen. I'll try to keep him out tonight, but you're throwing a competing party with the first Southside-Northside mixer? That's conspicuous."

FP froze.

"That literally never occurred to you, did it?" Brand laughed. "Look, I'll help you out this once, and I won't even ask for anything in return - because I don't like the Serpents. I'm with you on wanting the kid far away from them. But if you're going to keep a foot in socially, and not just as an FBI asset, then Jones is bound to find out."

Brand gave FP a serious look. "He's also not going to like you splitting time between him and them if he thinks that he could be a part of it. You need to think about that, and decide how you want to work it. Because, based on the deer-in-the-headlights response you had when Jones did confront you about Alice Carter's Whyte Wyrm report, I'm gonna guess you haven't thought through what you're planning to tell him." Brand rubbed his eyes wearily at the memory.

"Those can be nights Trip spends at my place, once I close on the house, but you know he'll be hurt if you shut him out and start bonding with other kids around his age. And he'll be curious. And probably self-destructively motivated to get involved."

FP turned back to the waffle maker when it beeped, and he began spooning the first apple cinnamon waffle onto the iron. "I know."

"All right. Free pass tonight, but then we talk about this and make a real plan."

"Thanks, Brandon." FP sounded rueful, and Brand patted his shoulder.

"That's what I'm here for, old man. How is it that you're so good with so many people - usually good with Jones, for that matter - and yet you fall apart with him whenever the Serpents come up?"

"The Serpents have always been a minefield for me with Jughead," FP said. "I don't entirely know what to do about it at this point. But a plan would be good."

"We'll figure it out somehow," Brand agreed.

When FP's phone began buzzing, Brand frowned; it was possible that the SAC had finally found some space in her schedule.

00000

"Who's a good boy?" Clark was dangling part of a leftover waffle while Trig sat stock still and waited patiently. "Who's going to win the agility trials once we finish your training?"

"Attaboy, Trigger," Jughead praised his dog as he watched Clark.

"Trip, do not even think about entering that dog in anything competitive-,"

"He can enter Trigger if he wants. It's good to have goals they're working toward in his training," FP countermanded Brand's warning.

"I had a Border Collie that did well for years," Clark explained. "I think Trig has an aptitude. I'd be happy to help; it would be a lot of fun for me. I haven't spent much time with a dog since Boondoggle passed."

"Great name, right?" Jughead said, mostly to FP. He was pointedly ignoring Brand as long as his godfather was opposed to the plan. "Trig's gonna need a fancy name if he starts winning stuff."

"That's horses," Clark said, shaking his head. "Trigger's a fine name for these circuits. People will think you're referring to his speed, so it's a good strategy for psyching them out."

"Cool." Jughead motioned for Trigger to lie down and, when he dropped immediately to the floor, Clark fed him the rest of the waffle. "Hear that? You're already fancy enough, boy. You've got this."

"When is Andrews bringing his rock opera over?" Brand asked. "Does he really have fourteen songs?"

"That's what he said. In... about three hours or so, I think," Jughead looked over at the clock on the stove. "Clark, if he doesn't have classified stuff in the lyrics, you can hear it too."

"That's an hour of material if they're each four minutes long," Brand pointed out. "Nobody wants to sit through that much teenage angst on acoustic guitar."

"He's only unplugging for us, Brand. And Veronica said it's really good. She's been singing with him and I guess they recorded most of it in his garage over the last few days." Jughead shrugged. "It might not be that bad."

"Yeah. Because Veronica is the least biased person we know when it comes to Andrews."

"Archie's not a bad musician," FP interjected. "I'll sit in for some of it if that's allowed. What would he have written about that would be classified? We'd all have been read into it, right?"

"Eh, you'd think that, wouldn't you?" Brand sighed heavily. "Apparently one song is about Jones' nightmares, and that could mean anything."

"I'm really interested in hearing that one." Jughead grinned. "I might have to veto it from being performed, but it's definitely got me curious."

"Is the whole rock opera about you, Jug?" FP looked unsettled by that idea.

"It's not a rock opera; Brand just calls it that. And no, it's about everything that happened this past year, mostly from Archie's perspective." Jughead saw that his dad remained unconvinced and tried to repeat the explanation that Archie had given him. "I'm in it, but only metaphorically. It's not the story of what happened or anything."

"Huh. I'll definitely be sitting in for it then." FP folded his arms. "After everything with Alice-,"

"This is nothing like that." Jughead frowned; he knew that had been Mr. Andrews' objection as well, and the implication that he was exploiting his friends had upset Archie. "It's completely different. You'll see."

"Okay. I'll see." FP's tone was mild. "I've also got to meet with someone at the field office today. It's nothing serious; just paperwork. Do you want to go to the big library branch that's right across the road from there? I know you've been looking to get some of the books from your college reading list that aren't at our branch."

"Yeah, definitely. As long as we're back in time for Archie." Jughead looked up with interest. "Who are you meeting with?"

"It's nothing serious," FP repeated firmly, making it clear that he was not planning to share any more details. "They probably just want to dot i's and cross t's on firing me."

Jughead's brow knit.

"It's a good thing, Jughead. It means I did so well that they don't need me any longer." FP had known that Jughead felt conflicted about his father working with the FBI - but he suddenly wondered if his being let go would bother Jughead as well. "Anyway, there's nothing I can do about it that Brandon hasn't already tried."

"That's the truth," Brand offered, apparently also noticing Jughead's reaction. "It was a good run while it lasted, but the budget is what the budget is."

"I guess." Jughead still seemed dissatisfied, but willing to accept that his father and Brand were correct about the situation. "They're not going to find anyone better, though."

FP smiled to himself; that was awfully nice to hear.

00000

Jughead's vote of confidence was a nice memory to hold onto an hour later: FP could tell in a glance that Special Agent in Charge Aaditi Wilson was ready to dislike him.

Instead of simplifying the situation, though, this presented a conundrum; FP sometimes enjoyed living up to expectations and being well and truly disliked. Then again, he sometimes enjoyed taking expectations and turning them on their heads to see how people reacted.

He should probably avoid doing anything that might get Brandon or Jughead into trouble, though. FP gave her a polite nod as he took a seat in her office to begin the meeting that seemed both long overdue - and somehow premature at the same time.

"Why don't you get yourself some coffee and then let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

SAC Wilson was already sipping her own coffee. FP figured that put him at an advantage, since it represented at least a minor faux pas. He was not late for their meeting. FP thanked her and poured himself some coffee from the French press that she indicated in the office.

"So, from what I understand, you've primarily been working with Special Agent Brandon Davies, who lives with you and is your son's godfather. Your son is currently an intern at the RA where Davies is doing the majority of his work liaising from Toronto. Is that correct?"

This again.

"Yes. There seemed to be a game of 'hot potato' with my file when handlers were being assigned assets. And, for the record, Davies was assigned to the resident agency after Jug was slated to intern there." FP took a sip and was surprised by how good his coffee was.

It almost softened his irritation over having to explain this yet again.

"Someone thought that Davies would be a convenient handler for me since we already knew each other socially. I also got the impression that people were not exactly lining up for the job."

"I see. Well, I've reviewed some of the paperwork, and I got a few distinct impressions myself," Wilson countered frostily. "For example, it seems to me that some decisions about your role as an asset were made with Forsythe in mind."

FP raised an eyebrow. "Are you asking if having Davies as my handler allowed me to keep my son 'in mind'? Are you saying that's unusual?"

"The degree to which your son was taken into account is unusual."

"Huh. I think I'm going to need some examples." FP crossed his arms, though he kept his tone and expression neutral. This meeting was about to get real.

"You know, because my son is in the library right across the street," FP pointed out the window, "and just so you understand where I'm coming from, I'm a little distracted right now by wondering if I should have encouraged him to take a painkiller. He's been having intermittent bouts of nausea since being held hostage two weeks ago and spending that time without relief from the pain of extensive injuries - which he sustained in an anti-FBI crime that was directly related to my work as an asset. But please, enlighten me. In what way has my son benefited from special treatment?"

"Nobody used the words 'special treatment,' Mr. Jones."

"Well, then, maybe I need to hear a few more words, Special Agent Wilson."

FP took another sip of his coffee. At least he was enjoying that; otherwise, this meeting was shaping up to be a waste of time and breath.

"Let's... leave aside your son for a moment." Wilson looked unsettled - as though she had somehow not expected a teenager's father to have serious objections to him being hurt and his life being threatened.

FP suddenly wondered how recently she'd been promoted to the position of SAC; this might well be her first post in that capacity.

"That sounds like a very good idea." Not that FP was going to give an inch on the subject of Jughead.

"There's an issue with the reports. Some of the timeline seems to have been conflated." Wilson pulled out a file.

FP's eyes narrowed; breaking out files and reports seemed like an aggressive move to him. "Conflated?"

"According to this report, Davies sent you into the Southside late on Saturday night - just three weeks ago today. The unrest you were told to incite is described as moving toward rioting by early Sunday morning, and then there were violent incidents on Monday and Tuesday stemming directly from your actions at the- uh-,"

"Whyte Wyrm?" FP decided to save her the time of skimming the documents.

"Yes. The bar. Thank you." Wilson studied FP carefully as she continued. "The reports state that the bombing took place on Wednesday afternoon, as did the carjacking, but by Wednesday night the bombing, hostage-taking, Serpent faction, missing person case, altercation in the parking lot of the RA, and the Riverdale High attack were all resolved - and suspects taken into custody."

"Oh, well of course when you put it that way I see the problem," FP's tone dripped sarcasm. "Any sign of efficiency in a government agency certainly warrants a full investigation."

"Please don't joke about this, Mr. Jones." SAC Wilson gave him a weary look before continuing to express her concerns.

Which were significant.

For instance, apparently Wilson also did not like that Andrews Construction would be collecting insurance payouts due to the sabotage and bombing - and that FP worked for Andrews Construction, was close personal friends with the owner, and had even had both Fred and Archie over for a movie marathon on the evening when the bombing was being set up.

It was only when FP pointed out that Jug and Archie had been spending that time recovering together after being attacked by Serpents at Riverdale High that she'd finally backed off on that line of questioning.

Honestly.

Eventually Wilson changed her approach and began to alternate between lecturing FP on procedure and reading aloud from the reports. She quizzed him on details, including quite a few topics that FP did not think had any bearing whatsoever on his role in events. Some of the story she asked him to repeat to her in reverse order. It was strange.

If he didn't know better, FP would have guessed that SAC Wilson had not done her homework before showing up at this meeting. That didn't make any sense, though, so he figured there was something she was getting at by leading him slowly and painstakingly through the documentation of decisions that had been made over the past few weeks.

Wilson finally paused for a long sip of her own cooling coffee.

"Should I stop you here?" FP interjected smoothly. "Because, to the best of my knowledge, nothing in those reports is falsified. Or conflated."

There was a long silence. FP sipped the excellent coffee again. Hopefully Jughead was locating his books without difficulty; this meeting was not likely to last a whole lot longer.

"Tell me, Mr. Jones. What would you do if you were tasked with managing the optics of this situation, and had evidence suggesting that everything in this file is - however improbable - accurate?" Wilson sipped her own coffee, placed it to the side, and folded her hands expectantly.

Well. FP guessed he had very little to lose at this point.

"I understand the optics, but I'd still keep Davies and my son working together. I assume you know their history; Brandon's his godfather because they're a good team, and not the other way around. It's also going to be worse optics for you to fire either of them, and if you keep them both on and try to separate them on the job, you're going to have to devote far too much manpower to keeping them in check."

FP shrugged in apology, since Wilson seemed taken aback by that characterization of the two. She didn't have to live with them - or even work in the same building -, but she'd learn that lesson quickly enough if they were given a reason to bring their elaborate codes and rituals into the workplace.

"I'd hire Clark full-time at the RA before someone else scoops him up, make Williams and Quinn partners and move them to the field office so that you can supervise them directly, give Phillips some come-to-Jesus marching orders, and I'd fire me."

Wilson blinked at that last part.

"The Southside's under control now, and I'm not useful to the FBI for anything else," FP explained. "I'd also give Davies a different office, and start communicating with him instead of keeping things adversarial; you've got to realize that's going to be nothing but embarrassing for the FBI if anyone else comes down from Toronto. I'd give him an office with space for an intern to have at least one of those little TV trays set up in a corner. That's assuming you want their best work more than you want their best behavior. Obviously."

"What else?" Wilson was unblinking and her focus was suddenly intense.

"Get better security on the RA's parking lot, because those cameras deterred nothing. Get control over the printing in the office before you're bankrupted by vaccine activists. Do you even have quarantine protocols or was that all made up?"

Wilson smiled; she'd heard that story already. "Let's hold off on some of this. I'll touch base with Davies and Phillips on Monday and discuss a few things. But congratulations, Mr. Jones: you've just bought yourself another two months on payroll, and a new handler."

FP looked at her sharply. This meeting was starting to seem like something very different from what he'd been led to believe, and he did not appreciate being jerked around.

"You'll be interfacing directly with me during that time, and we'll find out whether the Southside's really 'under control,' and whether you're truly no longer 'useful to the FBI,' as you claim."

Special Agent Wilson gestured triumphantly, as if she were revealing a winning hand in a poker game.

She was definitely new to the position.

"Huh. That's all very interesting. I'll consider it." FP drained his coffee cup and stood. "Thank you for the meeting. And the coffee."

Wilson's jaw dropped, though she recovered swiftly. "Can you give me your answer on Monday?"

"I'll leave you a message before I go to work." FP nodded. "One question for you, though. Would you take my son into account?"

"At the moment we're only discussing eight weeks, Mr. Jones. Am I likely to need to?"

That was a fair point. FP looked out the window again as he absorbed the unexpected turn that the meeting had taken.

"Probably not." FP cracked a small smile when he saw his son emerging from the library. "It looks like he's done at the library, though, and I should probably give him a hand."

Jughead was carrying a comically large stack of books and moving awkwardly toward his father's car.

"That's Forsythe?" Wilson stood too, and moved closer to the window to get a better look. FP was not sure what had taken her by surprise; Jughead's bruising was finally disappearing, so he no longer turned heads.

"He actually goes by Jughead - or more often 'Jones' when he's at the RA. But yeah, that's my boy." FP watched as Jughead gave up on making it all the way to the car and chose a patch of grass instead. The teen settled in and opened one of his books. "Not what you expected?"

"Not even close." Wilson studied Jughead for a few moments. "You know what? I'd really like to meet him. If it wouldn't be an intrusion into your weekend."

"No intrusion." FP shrugged agreeably and led her out of the office. They made their way across the parking lot to the lawn of the library.

"Jughead, this is Special Agent Wilson." FP introduced the SAC before he began gathering up the library books his son had piled on the grass. "She's taking over for Special Agent Donn at the field office."

Jughead stood up and shook her hand, but his expression was guarded. "Did you fire my dad?"

Wilson laughed. "I see the family resemblance."

FP and Jughead exchanged glances.

"Neither of you pull your punches," Wilson elaborated. "It's a good thing. You'll have to ask your father about that, Forsythe, but it sounds like he'll at least be around for the RA's teambuilding."

"Like going to the amusement park?" Jughead nodded. "Yeah, we got tickets. Although I think Andrews Construction might be doing that too, so he might have gotten tickets either way. They've got a morale problem."

This was the first FP was hearing of that - the official identification of a 'morale problem' or the amusement park plan. Fred must be talking more to Archie than he was to his employees; FP would have to find out more from Jughead.

"Exactly like that. I didn't know that was officially part of the plan, though. Where is this amusement park?" Wilson looked very interested, and as her face lit up FP suddenly had reason to wonder if she was younger than he'd first guessed. She might even be closer to Brandon's age than his own.

Jughead began enthusiastically describing the park that he'd been going to with his classmates once a year for quite a while now. He'd missed Riverdale High's spring trip, thanks to everything that had happened with Brandon, and FP was looking forward to getting out with him - even though he wondered if Jughead's fractured ribs would be up to a day of roller coasters.

And then Wilson began giving Jughead her best pitch for making a trip to Cedar Point, the premier roller coaster park in the country.

"We'll have to see," FP jumped into the conversation while Jughead was enthusing over Wilson's descriptions of the coasters. "That would be next season at the earliest, Jug."

"We can plan ahead." Jughead shrugged.

"You're a junior in highschool, right? There are a whole lot of things you might have on your schedule by then, so maybe just keep it in the back pocket in case you're ever in the area," Wilson said, noticing that FP was reining in his son's enthusiasm. "But why don't you check in with your doctor this week about whether you can ride roller coasters with your injuries? It seems to me that you should be there along with the rest of the resident agency. And no guarantees, but I've done a full day of coasters with cracked ribs before. How much you can manage will depend on a lot of factors, including which ribs you fractured."

"How did you crack your ribs?"

"Oh, well, that's a story and a half. You probably have other things you need to do today, so I'll give you the short version…"

FP decided to load the library books into the car while Jughead and Wilson exchanged stories and pointed out which ribs they'd injured.

In another few minutes they'd probably be trading training techniques.

This had been a strange meeting and a frustrating one, but it was possibly turning around right now, in the eleventh hour.

Because somehow FP got the feeling that SAC Wilson was seeing what FP saw when he looked at Jughead. And anyone who took a shine to his boy so readily was probably all right.

He might even have to consider signing back on, come Monday.

Jughead had a few things to say later, in the car.

"It's too bad I have to hate her on principle."

FP raised an eyebrow at his son. "You shouldn't hate anyone on principle. That's a lazy way of disagreeing with someone."

"Including... genocidal dictators?"

"You only hate those on principle?"

"Never mind."

"Gladly." FP hid a smile behind a rueful shake of his head. Jughead was still learning to think before he spoke, and it was entertaining seeing him walk back occasional missteps.

"Well, I disagree with SAC Wilson about firing you."

"She didn't."

"What? Really?" Jughead was suddenly leaning forward eagerly. "You're still going to-,"

"I'm not necessarily doing anything, Jug. She didn't fire me; I didn't sign on for anything. I won't be talking to you about that decision when I've made it, either." FP shot Jughead a look to underscore his words before focusing on the road once again. "So. Are you going to have to like her on principle now?"

"Maybe." Jughead smirked. "Probably."

00000

"So I keep thinking maybe I should put 'Answering Screams' before 'Love Song, No Words,' because the contrast works well, but I also thought-,"

"Why in the world does 'Love Song, No Words' have lyrics?" Brand interrupted.

"It's inspired by Trigger and Jughead. They bonded without talking, but my song has lyrics. And it's not necessarily about a dog."

"It's still confusing. Go on."

"Anyway, I thought that maybe 'Confused, Not Disturbed' would work better there."

"Is that the one about-,"

"Me, Betty, and Ronnie while Jughead was in Toronto."

"How are all of these songs so good? Didn't you write them in, like, two weeks or something?" Clark asked. He was leaning against the wall and staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. "It's like a perfect album; they're all different, but they work together, and every one of them holds its own."

"Can you write the first review?" Archie grinned with delight. "Just make sure you mention 'Buddy Breathing.' The ballads always get overlooked in those reviews."

"That's not actually about the wreck diving story I told you, though," Jughead told Clark. "It's a metaphor for all our friendships this year."

"Exactly." Archie looked even more thrilled. "So it's not just me? This is making sense and it sounds like a real concept album? I've spent so much time alone with the songs that I feel like I've lost all perspective."

"It's an album all right," FP stated firmly, with an encouraging nod. "The style's not entirely to my tastes, but I think it's solid songwriting. The melodies are actually doing something."

"Thanks, FP. Are you all coming to the dance?" Archie asked eagerly. "They're way better with electric guitar - and with Veronica singing."

"I had been planning-," Clark began, but Archie cut him off eagerly.

"Come on, Clark. I need you to write that review." Archie looked around the room, searching for a winning argument with which to persuade Clark. "Brand's coming, isn't he?"

Brand nodded. "Yep. I'm officially one of the adults who has to make sure you all play nice with the Southsiders. And Clark was actually trying to tell you that he is planning to go."

"Yeah. As long as it wouldn't be weird," Clark shrugged. "Is that all right with you, Jones?"

"Yeah, sure. It can't get a whole lot weirder than it already is, Clark, and I think this might be one for the record books. Archie's concept album's first live performance!" Jughead slapped Archie's shoulder proudly.

"Only three songs tonight. But yeah," Archie was still beaming. "It's going to be epic."

00000

I think they're all in position now... :) I'll enjoy any and all notes as things pick up speed in the next chapter!

I hope you have a lovely weekend!

-Button