Chapter Six! :-D

Thanks so much for the review, Skyrider45! I am so glad Clark is still lovable. :) Jug's getting some of the full teenager experience now, too - embarrassing parental behavior and all. He and FP are definitely finding their groove, even if there are steps forward and back allll along the way. I love the paranoia! I'm not sure they're traveling that far to the amusement park (it sounds just like Cedar Point for many reasons, but is kind of a smaller cousin park that is fictional and closer to Riverdale...? :), but things rarely go entirely smoothly when a lot is going on at once. I totally agree about the stirring happening, too. We'll have to see who gets to ride the roller coasters! :-D

Living Lucid Dream, that was my favorite line from last chapter. Clark was finally the one to say it... ;) And yes, Brand has been keeping an eye on FP for a while - they're both starting to understand their relationship and learning to rely on certain portions of it, I think, even as they continue to rub each other the wrong way. And yay for more possible vectors for getting to Toronto! Rose getting more involved is something I've been looking forward to, though I agree the pool of suspects is large and diverse. It's always complicated. :) And yes, there was a teeny tiny line in ST about Gunnar owning drums (Archie tries to make conversation about it while at gunpoint), and I am very glad it is a logical outgrowth of what we've seen of him so far. An "interesting dynamic" is sure to follow, I agree. :) And yay for Archie getting to play more, and being an awesome bud. He needed more space to shine. :) Sorry about the cliffhanger, too... soon to be rectified! :-D

Enjoy!

-Button

00000

Sheriff Keller arrived at the hospital to speak with FP and Brand that evening, so Fred offered to take Archie, Clark, and Jughead out to get dinner.

"I'll stay," Jughead said quickly. "I want to help."

"You need a break, Jughead," FP insisted. "Go get some real food and let us deal with things for a little while. I'll be right here when you get back."

"You've earned it," Sheriff Keller added. "That was nice work taking care of your father today; I can see I'll be able to count on you for whatever plan we come up with to make sure that he stays safe."

Jughead smiled, even though he was fairly certain that he was being placated. "Thanks, Sheriff Keller."

"But that means you need to take care of yourself, or you won't be much help to anyone. It's just like the oxygen masks on a plane, Jughead," Tom looked him over with concern, taking in his weight loss.

"I do take care of myself. I eat. Brand cooks tons of stuff - and we make things together all the time. And we get takeout. I just - I'm having a growth spurt, maybe." Jughead flushed with embarrassment as he started to ramble. He wondered if Sheriff Keller would ever forget his suspicion in the spring that his father had been denying him food to get his compliance and to get information from him.

"Okay. That can certainly do it." Tom left it at that, though he gave both FP and Brand serious looks that indicated he was not going to forget about what he was observing. "But you four should go get dinner. We'll take it from here."

FP assured Jughead that he'd fill him in completely later on - and Brand joked that he'd fill in all of the parts that FP left out.

They'd been inspired by the sandwiches they'd eaten earlier, and on the recommendation of several nurses Fred, Clark, Archie, and Jughead walked to a barbecue place that was just a few blocks from the hospital.

"So, Clark, tell me what brought you to be interested in working with the FBI." Their food had arrived, and Mr. Andrews began dividing up two full racks of ribs for the group and casually slid the largest portion onto Jughead's plate without comment. "I hear these intern spots are highly coveted - and that you're completing a graduate program at the same time. That's very impressive."

"Almost as impressive as you beating Dad once at chess. Even if it was only once before he cleaned your clock," Jughead chimed in with a grin.

"He's an excellent player, Jones, and a worthy opponent. And thank you, sir," Clark ducked his head shyly at Fred. "I was fortunate, and I had the opportunity to take a few years off after college to be involved in vaccine education overseas to get some real world experience before I started my Master's program. That was a huge help for getting the FBI internship - and I've been learning so much since I got there."

"That's really something," Mr. Andrews looked even more impressed. "Are you planning to work overseas again after you graduate, or are you hoping to continue with the FBI?"

"Honestly?" Clark began slicing his meat neatly off of the bones and looked almost bashful as he spoke. "I'm sure you hear this all the time from MacGyver here, but I'd kind of like to do what Special Agent Davies does." Clark seemed to take Mr. Andrews' involuntary noise of surprise as encouragement, and he warmed to the subject.

"He's been an inspiration, from his early career up to now. I've heard people suggest that he's so successful because he doesn't have a good work-life balance, but that's obviously just sour grapes. Davies does have family and friends, and he makes as much time for them as any professional I've ever worked with." Clark patted Jughead on the shoulder, as if he were exhibit A. "Maybe that's not something I can reasonably achieve - not without his level of talent -, but I've always believed in learning from the best role models I possibly can."

Everyone at the table stared at Clark.

"Uh-huh." Mr. Andrews tried to recover smoothly. "Brandon certainly does find ways to involve family and friends in his life and work, yes. And finding a good work-life balance is definitely important."

Jughead took a big bite of rib, studiously avoiding the concerned eye contact that Mr. A was trying to make with him.

"So maybe I will try for undercover work. It's a young man's game, or at least a single man's game, so I could do that for a while before I meet someone and settle down." Clark seemed to be cutting all of the meat off of his ribs before he began eating, and a tidy pile of bones was stacking up at the side of his plate.

"That seems wise," Mr. Andrews nodded his approval. "Are you almost finished with your degree program?"

"One more semester." Clark beamed at the thought. "A Master's degree just flies by, but that's been a fantastic experience as well. I'd be a terrible academic - I'm far too practical - but that's been another place where I've had some excellent role models to learn from."

"How are you too practical to be an academic?" Jughead asked skeptically. "I think you'd be perfect. You could research all the time and tell people things constantly."

"Publishing, Jones," Clark pulled a face. "It's become a rat race of hurried mediocrity just to stay reasonably employed. I can aspire to be like Special Agent Davies, but I know my limits. I can't produce quality research on anything approaching a schedule that would make me competitive in academia. And cranking out poor quality work would be the death of me. Can you imagine the damage I could do to the field? I'd be very reluctant to pursue a PhD for that reason, unless it were paid for by an employer."

"Oh." Mr. Andrews didn't appear to have much to say to that. "Well, I'm glad you've researched the options in enough depth to make an informed decision."

Archie was tucking into his dinner and giving the others amused glances as they talked.

"Are you looking forward to college even more now that you're hearing this about your future professors, Archie?" Mr. Andrews tried to draw him into the conversation. "Maybe getting some ideas for how to think about your career goals?"

"Not really, no. So much of it's random, Dad." Archie shrugged, smiling almost apologetically as he disagreed. "No offense, Clark, but you were lucky. And if you had a different boss right now, you might be thinking about a totally different career for after your internship ended."

Clark nodded without objection.

"And maybe the FBI won't hire you because they… run out of money or something. Or maybe academic jobs will suddenly be easier to get when you graduate, and that will change your decision." Archie shrugged. "I don't know how it all plays out, but I'm not sure I could guess what kind of work I'll be doing in ten years - not even if I could see five years into the future right now. You know?"

"That is so astute," Clark responded warmly to Archie's words. "You're completely right. Really, we can forecast and model the ebb and flow of so many systems, but when it comes down to it, the wisest people know not to even attempt predicting too far ahead."

Jughead wanted to roll his eyes. Instead, he slipped his phone out of his pocket and angled it so that he could see the screen under the table. There was another message from Betty, offering to wait up for him in case he wanted to call and talk more later in the evening, which was nice. Nothing from Brand or his dad, though.

"Now Jones here is someone who knows how to expect the unexpected." Clark's words pulled Jughead's attention back to the conversation. "He keeps an open hand and rolls with the punches as they come. You'd be bored to tears if you had it all planned out, am I right?"

"Um, actually, I wouldn't mind seeing five years - or ten - into the future, Clark." Jughead frowned.

"Oh, come on. Your whole life is just one unexpected adventure after another. You're having the most exciting entry into adulthood that's possible in some ways." Clark's tone was admiring.

"That is not always a good thing, Clark." Jughead immediately regretted his words when his tone came out overly sharp.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry - I didn't mean your dad-,"

"He doesn't mean that either," Mr. Andrews stepped in then with a warning in his voice for Clark and a quick shake of his head. "Not just that, anyway. And Jughead raises another good point; there's a lot to be said for stability and some measure of security."

This time Jughead did meet Mr. A's concerned eye contact, gratefully.

"Yeah. There's a reason that the curse is to 'live in interesting times,'" Jughead said, aiming for a blithe tone that would lighten the mood. "Sometimes I think I could stand a whole lot more boredom."

"Which is why we're best friends," Archie interjected with an air of finality on the subject. He'd caught on to what Clark apparently did not realize about Jughead and FP's history - or Jughead and Brand's history -, and what his own father was trying to shield Jughead from having to address directly, or pretend never happened. "I can supply the boredom, and I'm always up for sharing your adventures. Well, within reason."

Jughead felt his phone buzz. He slipped it out of his pocket again and was relieved to see texts from Brand and his dad, with identical timestamps.

'Loads of protection. You're going to love this, kid,' Brand had sent.

'I think you'll like the plan we came up with. Enjoy your dinner and bring me some dessert if you can,' FP had texted.

"Brand or FP?" Archie asked, seeing Jughead's worried expression relax for the first time since they'd left the hospital.

"I'm going to guess both," Mr. Andrews said, giving Jughead an assessing look and a small smile. When Jughead returned the smile and nodded, Mr. Andrews continued: "See? Your life is somewhat predictable these days, and that is no bad thing."

Jughead absorbed the warmth of his phone through his fingers for a few moments before replacing it in his pocket. "We should get dessert. And do you think any of the desserts would pack well to go? I think Dad's hungry."

"Ooh, a challenge," Clark lit up and reached for a menu to peruse the options. "I like it. Want to get a few different things for dessert and split? We can decide which ones will travel well once we see them."

"You're such a grad student," Archie teased. "My dad's paying, so you can get your own dessert if you want."

"Oh, no - it's not about the money. It's just more fun this way," Clark responded. "You'll see."

"Or maybe you'll see, when Jughead eats everything," Archie warned him with a laugh.

"Only if you're too slow." Jughead reached for a menu as well and looked at the dessert options as he ate a dinner roll. He hadn't realized that he was quite so tense until this moment, when he felt a weight lifting that he hadn't realized he'd been carrying. He suddenly had a new appreciation for what his dad had been explaining in the hospital about feeling so relieved that he seemed manic. "But we have to bring two back to the hospital. Brand's a total dessert thief."

"That's true, actually - I've seen him do it!" Archie laughed at his father's surprised expression. "Don't you remember in Michigan, Dad?"

"Can't say as I do," Mr. Andrews smiled along with them, "but we can certainly bring them each a dessert. I think that's a fine idea."

00000

"Which prison?" Sweet Pea's tone in the phone call was more curious than shocked, sympathetic, or anything else that Alice had expected when she'd decided to tell him about her decision.

"Um, it's in another county. Near the border with Canada."

"Wende? That's a dump; don't go alone. I'll drive you. Not on my bike, either - I'll borrow a car."

Alice was shocked into silence.

"I won't, like, come in." Sweet Pea suddenly sounded unsure of himself. "I mean, if you want me to, I will. But you probably won't want anyone else there for the visit. I'll wait wherever you like, and I'll bring a book. This has been a long time coming, right? You haven't visited her before?"

Alice still wasn't sure what to say, and the silence lengthened.

"Aw, man. I freaked you out. I'm sorry - I only know about some of the prisons because of the Serpents. It's not like I'm a felon, I promise." Sweet Pea was clearly getting more worried by the moment.

"No. No, it's all good. I just-," Alice's mind went blank again.

"You just... have no idea what to expect ever since your parents were both locked up, and suddenly I'm looking like I'm closer to their side of the divide than yours?" Sweet Pea sounded even more anxious.

"No, actually. I'm... really grateful that you offered," Alice corrected him. Her mind seemed to have unfrozen successfully. "Thanks. And maybe. Can I think about it? Hermione offered too, and I need to think things through."

"Of course." Sweet Pea let the silence hang for a few moments before continuing. "Gunnar might have some thoughts about it too. Insights, maybe. I know he's a friend; you should have support. This is a big deal."

Alice wondered if Sweet Pea was intentionally pushing buttons that made her so off-balance that she couldn't respond coherently. Or maybe that was just his superpower.

"Sorry. Am I not supposed to bring him up?"

Alice took some cold comfort in the fact that Sweet Pea sounded like he was a hairsbreadth away from panic.

"It's fine. I just, uh, didn't think you wanted to talk about Gunnar." Alice felt her eyes drop with embarrassment, even though they were on the phone. "I mean-,"

"Hey, I'm not thirteen. You and I haven't gone on a real date. We're not… anything, let alone exclusive." Sweet Pea's voice dropped low, and it was clear that he was equally embarrassed with the turn the conversation had taken. "And you should feel sure before we talk about something like that. Or, um, you know, at least a little sure - as in, 'not actively wondering about a specific classmate' levels of sure. I'm not talking, uh, commitment. Not like... wallpaper or anything."

"Wallpaper." Alice's tone was flat, but she felt like she might explode into nervous, hysterical laughter as she considered Sweet Pea's choice of analogy.

"Or paint colors. Whatever you prefer." Sweet Pea had a smile in his voice now. "Carpet, maybe?"

"Hardwood floors, all the way." Alice was grinning now, and a giggle slipped out.

"Okay. All right. That's cool; I can work with that. Consider the floor settled. And... we'll keep an open mind about the walls."

"That sounds good." Alice leaned back on her bed. "An open mind is good."

"I think so." Sweet Pea sounded relaxed and happier now as well.

"What kind of floors do you have at your place?" Alice was still curious about Sweet Pea's living arrangements. "Because I'm assuming wallpaper now. The flowery, grandmother kind."

"How did you know?" Sweet Pea laughed. "I've got carpet, but like the fancy kind with the hardwood shining through. It's all very artistic."

"Wow - so avant garde." Alice giggled again, but she wondered how much was a joke and how much was a bashful way of sharing the honest truth about his place. "You have heat? Or do you just burn a couch now and then when it gets too cold?"

Sweet Pea groaned. "Couches are pricey. I'm lucky to get an ottoman most days."

"Well, you're in luck. I might know a guy." Alice grinned when Sweet Pea laughed again. "Because an ottoman is just sad."

"Don't I know it." Sweet Pea groaned again, but this time as if he was stretching out on his end of the phone. "So, what's it like at the Lodges' place? Caviar and silver spoons?"

"Actually, I do love the hardwood floors here." Alice's tone turned sincere. "You should come over sometime. They're really nice to dance on in socks."

"Yeah?" Sweet Pea's tone turned more serious too, and he sounded very interested in this plan. "I'm in. If it's okay with the Lodges."

"Hermione's been encouraging me to have friends over. I think it's more than okay." Alice smiled, and somehow she knew that Sweet Pea was doing the same thing on his end of the phone.

"All right, then. It's a plan."

00000

After dinner at the barbecue joint, the four returned to the hospital room and Mr. Andrews handed Brand and FP each a small takeout container. Before FP had his open, though, Brand was swapping containers with him.

"Hey!" FP swatted Brand's hand just before he moved out of reach.

"That one's peanut butter and chocolate, your favorite," Brand said as he opened the container he now held and examined its contents. "This one's just fudge. Ooh, and hazelnut. It would be wasted on you, FP."

"That's actually who we got them for," Jughead said. "They must have gotten mislabeled."

"All right, then; I certainly won't turn down chocolate and peanut butter." FP smiled up at Fred. "Thanks for bringing us these, and for taking Jughead and Clark out for a while. It's been quite the day, and I feel a lot better knowing that they got a break and something substantial to eat."

"Oh, of course. It was my pleasure; they're wonderful company, and you know I always enjoy catching up with Jughead. Are the docs going to let you go home tonight?" Fred asked.

"I don't think so. And even if they do, it might take a while to get me discharged. You and Archie should go home and get ready for the week. I'll be sending Brandon home with these two if it takes much longer to get an answer."

"Okay. Call if I can help with anything at all, FP," Fred patted the bed railing in lieu of touching FP's injured left shoulder. "Take the day off tomorrow if you're tired, or in any pain. I'll have workers at your house tomorrow afternoon to see to those windows."

"Thanks, Fred. That's a huge help."

Archie waved goodbye to Jughead. "I'll see you tomorrow. And I'll see you when you're back on the job, FP."

"I'll be working tomorrow if I get the all-clear," FP assured him.

"Oh, cool. Well, I'll see you Tuesday, then," Archie amended. "I've got late practice tomorrow. I'm really glad you're okay."

"Thanks, Red. Me too." FP smiled as Archie and Fred left the hospital room. "So, Jughead, here's the plan that Sheriff Keller and I came up with…"

00000

FP was kept in the hospital overnight for observation, with security on alert and watching his room. Jughead opted to stay with him while Clark and Brand went back to the house to get some sleep.

The next morning, Brand brought each of the Joneses a change of clothing before morning rounds began. He'd arranged to drop Jones off at school and have Clark meet him there before their shifts at the RA so that he could leave the kid's car with him at Riverdale High.

Brand was surprised to find FP wide awake and Jones sound asleep beside him on the hospital bed. FP was stroking the kid's hair, and Jones had one hand resting directly over his father's heart.

"I was going to offer to talk him down for you, but it looks like that's entirely unnecessary," Brand said. "Unless this was intended as some sort of protective measure?"

"We had a good talk yesterday, but by all means feel free to put in a word or two. I'll take all the help I can get," FP replied quietly. "And no, it hasn't occurred to him - yet - to place himself physically between me and the entire world. He wasn't sleeping, so I told him I was having trouble calming down from all of the excitement. He taught me some of your breathing exercises and conked right out in the middle of one."

"Aha. That would certainly do the trick." Brand was amused. "Good work getting him to sleep. But if he wants a shower before school he doesn't have a whole lot of time."

"I've got it." FP shifted slightly and slid Jones from his side onto his back, carefully keeping his hand between the kid's head and the metal bed railing. "Jug? Brandon's here. He's got clothing. And breakfast."

"I don't have break-,"

"Well, go get something, Brandon. He's not going to school without something to eat."

All right, then.

Brand waved when Jones squinted up at him from his tiny patch of hospital bed. "I'll be right back with food. Go shower, change, and then I'll drop you and your car off at school."

"Okay." Jones yawned. "Did you bring my backpack? Did Trig seem okay?"

"Yes and yes." Brand held up the backpack by its safety-pinned straps. "We're getting you a new one, by the way. Jameson tore this one apart on you, and we can't let the terrorists win."

The kid gave him a look, but seemed like he was too disoriented to come up with a response. He sat up and stretched awkwardly, and Brand winced when his back gave a series of loud cracks.

"Bring me coffee, too," FP ordered. "I should be discharged pretty soon, so can you give me a ride home? I'd like to get to work, and I need to make a phone call."

Brand sighed. "Yeah, I'll get it squared away. Sarah can cover for me for an hour or two, and Clark's hours are a lot more flexible than mine. I'm starting to think that maybe I need to get a minivan while I'm staying with you two."

"You do need to get something." FP was not sure why Brand had not rented a car yet - or bought one, for that matter, since he was moving to Riverdale more permanently. "Thanks, Brandon."

"Thanks, Brand," Jones echoed. He was beginning to look more awake, and perhaps even like he might be able to stand upright. "Will you get me some hot chocolate? With maybe just a shot of coffee in it?"

"Sure, kid. You earned it." Brand gave the kid a warm smile. "Hospital support is important, and sometimes it drains the life right out of you."

Jones shot his father a worried look.

"I meant that it's hard on the people waiting, not the patient," Brand clarified. "It's helpful for the patient to have you here."

"Okay." Jones slid off the bed onto his feet. "Good."

"Anything else you want to put in an order for while I'm here?" Brand gave FP a wry look. "I'm at your service."

"Protein. Maybe sausage; that's hard to screw up." FP watched Jones collect his clothing and backpack from Brand. "Then let's get out of here."

"You got it." Brand set FP's clothing on a chair and turned to leave before the list got any longer. "I'll be back in ten, and I'll bring a doc to discharge you if I see one."

"Sounds like a plan." FP nodded decisively, but then his expression flickered as he began to sit up on the bed.

"Hang on; that didn't look good. Don't move." Brand sighed again and returned to FP's bedside. "Let me help you, old man. Don't start tearing yourself up before you're even out of the hospital."

FP hesitated, searching Brand's expression for sarcasm or mockery. When he saw nothing but sincere concern, he relaxed. "Thanks."

Jones was watching them from across the room.

"I've got this. Go shower," Brand directed. "Your father's in good hands, kid. I'm not gonna jeopardize my sweet free housing setup."

"I guess not." Jones finally seemed to stand down and he disappeared into the small bathroom attached to the hospital room.

"Easy does it," Brand said as he supported FP while he moved into a sitting position. "You're really going to work today?"

"Yeah. I won't lift much of anything since that could reopen the cut on my head, but there are other things I can do - not least of which is piloting the new arrangement and getting people used to it on the jobsite. And, honestly... I can't see sitting alone at home after all that," FP confessed.

"All right. Call me if you need anything, or if you just want some company - on the jobsite or at the house. Sarah's offered to cover for me if I need to pitch in, so don't be shy about screwing up my day."

"I won't." FP nodded gratefully. "Tell Sarah I appreciate it. Tell Clark thanks, too."

"You got it. I'll be back in a few minutes, so stay put until then." Brand examined FP's position on the bed one last time to make sure that he was sitting comfortably, and then he headed off to find some breakfast.

00000

Betty caught up with Jughead over lunch, but took one look at him and casually raised the subject of training with Agent Quinn instead of diving into the obvious topic of conversation.

"It's okay. You can ask about my dad." Jughead smiled gratefully, though, recognizing that Betty was trying to put him at ease. "He's doing better, and I'm fine."

"You just look tired, Juggie. Did you get any sleep at the hospital?" Betty figured that was a happy medium of asking for more detail without pushing for more information than he felt like sharing.

"I did, but not until kind of late and I slept weird." Jughead made a face. "But my dad wasn't alone in the hospital, so that's the important thing."

"Absolutely," Betty agreed fervently. "Would it be good if I came over today? I could bring you dinner. Or cook for you - even though I'm not as good a cook, of course - and give you all a break."

"That would be amazing, Betty; thanks. Probably not tonight, because Brand's already got a dinner menu in mind and he's got this whole plan for maintaining Dad's routine - whatever that means -, but can I get a rain check? Archie offered to stay over too, so maybe we could all do something in a week or so." Jughead smiled as he thought more about the idea. "We could all cook together, and make a party out of it."

"That does sound really nice," Betty agreed. "I'll talk to Veronica. If we plan a menu and get you and Brand to assist, I bet we could pull off something great."

"You're good cooks even without the help," Jughead assured her. "We're definitely available labor if you need us, though. So… tell me more about your training. I don't see any bruises, so that's a good sign."

"Agent Quinn is starting me out slowly. She's got some ideas, though. You'll have to watch yourself pretty soon." Betty grinned when Jughead gave her a pleased, suggestive glance.

"Huh. Are you planning to get the drop on me, Cooper?"

"Oh, yes." Betty smiled mysteriously. "When you least expect it, Jones."

Jughead draped an arm over Betty's shoulders and rested his forehead lightly against hers. "That sounds promising. I can't wait."

"Well, then. It's a date." Betty grinned and playfully bumped her nose against Jughead's.

"Oh, the PDA of it all," Archie intoned mournfully as he joined them at the table. "I just talked to Gunnar and Alice, and I think they're coming on Saturday for the whole day at the park. Is FP going to come? Because I think he and Gunnar might not mix well. Just a wild guess."

"Or Gunnar and Brand for that matter," Jughead added. "He's still upset you wouldn't tell anyone what happened at the Helgason's."

"He'll get over it," Archie waved a hand dismissively. "But seriously, is your dad going to make it? I think my dad's going to hang out with me if he doesn't have FP to go on rides with, so we should really work on that."

"I don't know." Jughead's forehead wrinkled as he considered the logistics. "There are metal detectors."

"It will be ground zero for FBI presence, too, don't forget," Archie offered encouragingly. "You should point that out. Let me know, and then I can plan evasive maneuvers if that becomes necessary."

"I'll keep you updated," Jughead promised. "That's cool that Alice is planning to come. Is she going with Gunnar?"

Betty nudged Jughead and gave him a knowing smile.

"What? I'm just taking an interest," Jughead protested.

"He's become a one-man betting pool," Betty explained when Archie looked confused. "He's following the saga of Alice, Gunnar, and Sweet Pea like it's a soap opera."

"I am not." Jughead took a defensive tone. "I just think it's... entertaining."

"Like a soap opera," Betty repeated teasingly.

"Hey guys," Kevin approached their table as he was leaving the cafeteria with his empty tray. "Did you see Sweet Pea bring Alice lunch at Gunnar's table?"

"Really? Like, he bought her lunch here? Or did he bring her lunch from home?" Jughead asked.

"He definitely bought some of it here, but there might have been homemade brownies. Maybe." Kevin grinned as he began to move away from their table. "Let the games begin!"

Betty gave Jughead a look. "Uh-huh. So, in what way is this not like watching a soap opera?"

Jughead examined his plate and carefully selected a french fry with all of the dignity that he could muster. "I am trying to be a good friend to Kevin. Obviously."

"Yeah. Obviously." Archie laughed at Betty's skeptical expression. "We'll have to find out if Sweet Pea is planning to come along on Saturday. For Kevin."

"Yeah, exactly. For Kevin." Jughead grinned at Archie.

"Just don't get in the middle of anything," Betty said, shaking her head with a resigned smile. "It is kind of fun to watch, I guess. Something that's involved, but not too serious."

"Yep." Jughead bit into the fry with an impish grin. "And I can't wait to see what happens next."

00000

I hope you enjoyed (it's kind of a hinge chapter, so more action soon!), and I hope you have a lovely weekend! And if your time is changing (and your sleep shortchanged!), may the odds be ever in your favor. :( I'll enjoy reading any and all notes as we leap into chapter seven!

-Button