Okay, deep breath... here goes!
Also, unrelated, allow me to share my happy whiplash from the last two weeks: my health stuff received a major downgrade to "yeah, something's wrong, but the worst case scenario diagnosis we gave you has unexpectedly been ruled out after all." The OR is still potentially in the mix, but way less of it, and possibly not at all. I'm reeling (just a bit!), but in all of the best ways. :)
Skyrider45, thank you for the great review! The detective stuff was fun to start working in, and I have wanted Fred and Mary to have more since the beginning. It's taken a long time, but is much deserved for those two. FP and Wilson has been in the back of my mind, but I am not sure what it would look like. I see potential for so much magic, but there are a million barriers there... :-D Yay for potentially a chapter from you, and so much yes to sticking around in the background! Thank you a million times over for all of your reviews and support - this story would not be the same without your feedback and solidarity along the way!
Living Lucid Dream, you have been so amazing. Thank you so much for every review, and for all of the incredible encouragement - and especially the blow-by-blow reactions I have loved so much. I've had so many new visions, angles, and insights for this series either from your feedback itself or less directly from the process of thinking through your reactions, and it has added more dynamics to this story than I probably even know - and contributed mightily to my writing process more generally. You gave me such a gift when you began reviewing BCBC, and so many gifts since then. I sincerely hope this final chapter lives up to expectations, and if there is another sequel (with new direction for the characters) in a number of months, I'll be looking for you and hoping that you enjoy it as well.
Guest, it's been such a pleasure hearing about your enjoyment of the story as it has unfolded! I am so glad you've jumped in with notes as the series concludes, and that you've so generously shared your reactions along the way. Every review has made me smile, and given me motivation to write more - and hopefully also better.
Enjoy!
-Button
00000
The crowd was enormous. The sound was overwhelming.
Fred was glad that he'd had the presence of mind to grab ear plugs for himself and for Mary. Being backstage was quite the experience, but it meant that they had limited options for putting distance between themselves and the massive array of speakers.
"So how long has he been writing songs?" The guitarist motioned to where Archie was performing. "He's got some chops. His sound's a little tame for me personally, but I'd be happy to have them open for our whole tour."
The headlining band was curious about their openers, and apparently it was obvious that Fred and Mary were Archie's parents.
"He's been writing music for a number of years," Fred replied. He wasn't sure how much would be politic to share without Archie's input, but that was a true answer without being a specific one. "And that's a high compliment; Archie will appreciate hearing it."
"I think the crowd agrees with you," Mary added. They did seem appreciative, and it looked like the band might even have some fans of their own in the crowd based on some of the T-shirts they had spotted.
"This is a tough one, too, so I'm doubly impressed that they're going over so well." The guitarist motioned toward the far side of the stage. "You see that group over there? We can draw something of a rough crowd, but to have a notorious biker gang show up in leathers makes this a red letter day even for us."
Fred looked over, and then hid his shocked expression when he instantly recognized those leathers. "Uh. You don't say."
"They seem into these guys, though. Like I said, it's impressive." The guitarist waved to his group's drummer, who walked over to join the conversation. The guitarist pointed to Gunnar. "How do you like that kid?"
The drummer grinned. "He can sit in with me anytime."
Fred thought that Archie was doing a fantastic job working the crowd and that he sounded amazing, and he was also impressed by Veronica's vocals and the way she played off of Archie's energy while they sang together.
Gunnar, however, seemed absolutely transported behind his drum kit. Fred knew that he'd been given a lot of freedom to improvise, and Archie looked nothing but thrilled by how Gunnar was rising to the occasion tonight - and it was exhilarating to see the teenager bringing a dramatic combination of athleticism and focus to his drumming.
Anyone who had hoped for something extra in the live performance was certainly getting their money's worth.
"This is their last song, right?" Mary asked. "They're performing three tonight?"
"Four." The guitarist responded before Fred had a chance to confirm that Mary was correct. "They've got one more."
"Really? They do?" Fred looked back and forth between the guitarist and Archie, as if he might see something in his son's body language to indicate whether they were about to have a fairly significant hiccup in the concert.
Being a whole song short would no doubt leave the next band scrambling, and Fred was suddenly very nervous for his son. He'd be terribly embarrassed over making such an amateur mistake in his first major concert appearance.
However, in spite of Fred's concerns, when Archie, Veronica, and Gunnar crashed to the end of the up-tempo song they'd been playing, they congregated by the drums while Alice and Sweet Pea ran out onto the stage to join them
They were both wearing and carrying Serpents jackets.
And then Alice and Sweet Pea retreated from the stage, and Archie was holding up his jacket to show the crowd while the other two band members slipped into theirs - and Fred was only more surprised to hear Archie begin to shout into the audience about liberty, something about cages... and the shocking announcement that they were debuting a brand-new song.
"Fred? Did you know anything about this?" Mary was aghast and clutching Fred's arm with a vise-like grip.
"Not a clue." Fred felt like his jaw was about to hit the floor.
Archie looked entirely self-possessed, though, and the remainder of the headlining band joined Fred and Mary at the side of the stage to enjoy the delighted roar of a crowd that had just realized that they were being treated to a very special live event.
That roar expanded and took on a life of its own when the screen above the teens came to life, no longer with large projections of them playing onstage (as it had shown up until now), but now with a video splicing scenes of the band playing in Alice's Toronto home and what appeared to be an immensely violent - and one-sided - fight between FP Jones and several men. All of the faces were blurred, but there was no question (in Fred's mind at least) that it was FP.
And there was quite obviously no question in the minds of the Serpents, either; that entire side of the venue was erupting in violent shouts of exultation.
Gunnar signaled Archie and they began to play again, but this time it was a much faster song that was far darker in tone than anything Fred had heard from Archie before.
No sooner had that thought entered Fred's mind than Gunnar leaned into his microphone to yell some lyrics that were loud, angry, and entirely incomprehensible.
"What is he singing?" Mary yelled to Fred, gesturing to Gunnar. Fred shrugged helplessly.
A few bars later, the footage cut to the band again - and then to non-blurred footage of Jughead attacking someone as he dropped from rafters.
"Is that man holding a knife?" Mary was still yelling. "What is this song? And how on earth did they come up with this for their - what is this, a music video? And they must have planned this a while ago if Jughead and FP helped them out. That means-,"
And then, when the camera focused on someone duct taped to a support pole, Fred realized what it was that they were seeing. He cupped his hands to direct his voice as he shouted back. "Mary, this is from the amusement park. This is the video that Betty shot."
Suddenly the video brightened and Brand filled the screen, inaudibly barking orders while he held everyone at gunpoint and took control of the situation.
All he was missing was a white hat.
Fred and Mary turned to each other, but they quickly looked back up when the roar from the Serpents became frenzied once again: FP was back on the screen, and it looked like he was doing serious damage to several men.
"Can you make out any of the lyrics?" Mary shouted to Fred.
"Something about Brandon, I think," Fred shouted back. "It sounds like they're singing about him... clearing Toronto of crime?"
"But if it's footage of-,"
"I know! I'm as lost as you are," Fred replied. "And the crowd seems a lot more excited about FP taking apart those guys than anything to do with Brand."
"No kidding. At least FP's face is blurred. Why on earth isn't Jughead's?" Mary was shaking her head and had an expression of utter horror on her face. "Archie is grounded. For life. He's grounded from performing, from songwriting, from taking video-,"
"Oh yeah. He's grounded all right."
They lapsed into silence. Eventually Fred found himself staring up at footage of Jughead and Brand releasing a blurred out Clark, which then cut to a shot of the band one last time as the song finally concluded.
"They're in jail and they need your help!" Archie shouted into his microphone, this time much more intelligibly. "We've released this new single online, simultaneous with the world premiere performance that you were just a part of. Check it out, including links showing how you can stand with Special Agent Brandon Davies and his partner Jughead Jones in their fight against crime and against international forces of government corruption!"
Veronica and Gunnar joined Archie at the front of the stage and they joined hands and thrust them in the air as they shouted together: "Thank you, Toronto!"
The band ran offstage while the crowd cheered and the Serpents bellowed their approval, and Fred did not think it was an accident when their exit did not take them past him and Mary.
"Did Archie just say-,"
"I have no idea what just happened, Mary, but we'd better get them out of here and then have a long talk. And find out exactly what was in those lyrics. Not to mention what they just uploaded to the internet."
Fred felt his adrenaline spiking as he turned to usher Mary further backstage while the next performers moved past them to take the stage.
So much for this being a date.
00000
"Are you going to pull the plug on this website?" FP asked, scrolling on his phone and glowering at the rapidly increasing dollar amount on the screen. "The FBI can do that, right?"
"I'm not going to do that right at this moment, but I am sorely tempted." Aaditi's expression matched FP's. "How did they get a 501(c)(3) to take on Brandon Davies as a charity on such short notice? This is preposterous; there are people worldwide voluntarily paying hundreds of dollars to download the single in the name of donating to the 'cause.' This actually looks quite a bit like a massive tax dodge, except my guess is that the band doesn't have significant revenue to speak of."
"That works?" FP was surprised. "People can do that?"
"They donated the song's proceeds to a charity. That's the long and short of it in the eyes of the IRS." Wilson shrugged. "Have you finished watching the music video yet? Is all of the footage of you blurred?"
"I think so. Yes. None of the footage of Jughead or Davies is, though," FP reported. "This is a disaster."
"There was already quite a bit of footage of them in circulation, so I'm not nearly as worried about that," SAC Wilson admitted. "However, I am having a hard time believing that Betty Cooper would do this without being coerced in some way. She really doesn't seem the type."
"She loves my son." FP sounded less perturbed about that detail. "I can't be too upset with her over that. I've come to expect quite a bit from her, and to be perfectly honest we see eye to eye a lot more these days than we did when Jug was missing."
Wilson gave FP a confused look for just a moment before it cleared. "Oh. Yes. When he was with Davies. I know the case well, but I hadn't given a lot of thought to the fact that you were left behind during all of that. Obviously."
"I went from receiving threatening photos of him to thinking he was dead, and then knowing - being the only one who understood - that Brandon had to have taken him."
FP didn't talk about this. He never talked about this. But when he looked up from his phone to make eye contact with Aaditi and take in her expectant expression, he felt compelled to continue explaining:
"It was a waking nightmare, and getting him back didn't change that right away. Jughead was always one of the few people I couldn't control with a word or a look. It was demoralizing how well he knew me and saw through me."
FP didn't quite smile, but his expression lightened when his eyes returned to the paused music video which displayed Jughead looking up at Brand with concern while the two of them worked together to cut Clark free.
"That's what saved us in the end, though. When I put in the effort to change, he could tell that it was real. Jughead knew I wasn't capable of lying that well. After that we just had to get past the anger."
"Which isn't a tall order or anything," Wilson observed wryly. She was watching FP closely as he spoke.
"Exactly. That's the part where Brandon actually brought him home to me." FP flipped idly between open pages on his web browser, returning to the counter of donations that continued to climb well past any dollar figure that made sense. "And I don't mean from Toronto. Jug had left me long before that, and Brandon only brought him fully back to me once he'd come to live with us in Riverdale. I hated Davies for being the one who could do it."
"And now that Jughead's back, safe and sound, you can't remember why you ever hated Davies?"
"Uh, not exactly. Have you met Brandon?" FP barked out a laugh. "He reminds me constantly of why I hated him. We rub each other the wrong way, which sounds stupid in the grand scheme of things but made it nearly impossible for me to forgive him."
"So… I guess the made-for-TV film will be grittier than usual?" SAC Wilson shot FP a teasing look.
"Not to mention pettier. We're in a fairly good place now; it's just that it was never going to be simple for the wolf pack."
"The what?"
"Oh God, now he's got me saying it without thinking." FP massaged his forehead as if he'd instantaneously developed a headache. "That's what Brandon calls the three of us."
Aaditi laughed. "You know, I have a grown daughter. She and I have been having a tense time since she graduated from college, for a number of reasons. Her current boyfriend is no prize, but he's been encouraging her to reconnect with me - and I've resented him for it without really thinking about how backward that impulse is."
"Huh." FP was thoughtful for a few moments. "Do me a favor."
"Sure."
"If you ever lose a limb and I visit you in the hospital," FP locked eyes with Wilson and his expression and tone were deeply sincere, "I want you to remind me to tell you all about this paper cut I once had. Because I really think we're going to bond."
Aaditi's eyes went wide with horror. "I was only-,"
"I know. And my therapist tells me not to say things like that when people try to relate," FP interrupted with an apologetic grimace, "but then I just resent people when they keep on doing it. I know that you're trying to understand, and I want to hear about your daughter; I do. I just - every once in a while - need to say out loud that Jughead had it worse."
"And... you need to say that in a way that pulls the rug out from under the conversation?" Wilson asked dryly. "For emphasis?"
"Precisely." FP nodded and began to smile. "Now you're getting it."
"All right. If I lose a limb, I'll remind you," Aaditi said. She fell silent for a few long seconds, and then continued: "I don't mind the hubris, by the way. It suits you. I'd recommend you not try that line on anyone else, though, or else you'll find out real quickly that you don't want to turn suffering into a competition."
"Hubris, huh? Duly noted." FP sized Wilson up yet again, with respect, as he lapsed into thoughtful silence - before a distracting question occurred to him. "So, is Davies actually going to get all of this money?"
SAC Wilson sighed as she looked down at her own laptop and noted the growing figure. "He might."
"Gre-eat." FP sighed as well. "He's going to be insufferable."
"I'm not so sure." Wilson shrugged when FP looked at her questioningly. "A lot has happened, FP. The situation is different now."
FP considered that. Maybe she was right.
"And if all else fails, just break out the paper cut story. That'll set him straight."
Aaditi grinned when FP laughed.
00000
Archie had pulled out every trick he knew to buy the band overnight - some time, space, and sleep - before this conversation, knowing that would almost certainly cool tempers.
It had only partially worked: it was now morning and the band had been separated into three rooms for separate lectures with his parents. It was Archie's turn, and his dad was apparently tackling this conversation solo.
The part that had clearly not worked was that his father seemed (if humanly possible) even more upset than he'd been the night before.
"So. I've gathered so far that a lot of this was Gunnar's idea. He's proud of what you've done, including the fact that your album is climbing the charts awfully quickly along with that 'single' you've got racking up donations for Brand."
"Um." Archie knew that it was a bad idea, but he had to ask: "If you know it was Gunnar's idea, and it's working to help Jughead and Brand with public support and legal expenses, then why-,"
"Why am I upset with you?" Fred's tone was dry. "Aside from the fact that it is your band, and you are responsible for the decisions made on its behalf? Well, it might have to do with the fact that I'm planning to send Betty over to meet Jughead while I'm stuck here, lecturing you. I would really have liked to be with FP to support everyone today, Archie."
Archie blanched under his father's gaze, but then looked hopeful. "Do you mean that they're out? Really? Is it because of our concert? When can we go over? I won't try anything like this ever again - I promise. This lecture is basically unnecessary."
"They are not out because of the concert. That was already going to happen because of their actual legal defense - which, for the record, came in under budget and requires no donations whatsoever."
Fred gave Archie a very serious look. "And we can't go over right now because we have a lot of issues that need to be addressed before we can go meet up with anyone. So far your mother doesn't think you've done anything that is actually illegal, and it's a good thing that you never claimed that donations to Brand were going solely to his legal defense, but I am not so sure that you're going to be in the clear as she looks more closely at the details of the single and your online collection racket."
Archie started to get nervous when he heard that. Gunnar had seemed awfully confident that bands did this sort of thing regularly, but Archie had admittedly let him do all of the work of setting it up.
"We have reporters arriving on the lawn of Alice's house-," Fred's eyes narrowed when Archie shot an excited look toward the windows, all of which had the curtains pulled tightly closed, "-which is not helpful in the slightest. I will not subject Jughead and FP to more intrusive media, so we either shake this or we don't see them while we're all in Toronto."
"Oh." Archie's voice was small.
"Yeah. 'Oh.'"
"Betty might have ideas for dealing with the reporters," Archie offered lamely. "She's the media consultant for the band."
That did not seem to go over any better than anything else Archie had said or done over the last twelve hours.
"I'm not going to hold my breath. But I guess we can ask her for ideas before she goes." Mr. Andrews ran a hand through his hair.
At least his dad seemed willing to hear what Betty could come up with. Archie hoped against hope that she would come up with something.
00000
They were out of jail. Finally. It had actually happened really quickly once the decision was made, so nobody was waiting when Jughead led Brand out of the cell block. They'd been given a ride to a residential house that the FBI had rented for their temporary use.
Brand was immediately pulled away to be interviewed by the FBI, but Jughead had been pointed toward where his dad was waiting in the FBI's makeshift headquarters and he swiftly wound his way through the maze of hallways in the aging building.
However, before he had a chance to locate FP, Jughead found himself being motioned into a small room by an older couple.
They looked friendly. They seemed to know him, too, so he stepped in to find out what the deal was.
"Are you... Jughead?" The man asked, and the woman was suddenly wringing her hands nervously.
"Yes, I am. Hi; do I know you?" Jughead asked politely.
"You don't, honey." The woman looked near tears now. "But... we're your grandparents."
Jughead's jaw dropped. "Oh! Uh, it's - it's nice to meet you. I didn't know-,"
"We didn't know either. We'd have come sooner. So much sooner." The man - Jughead's grandfather - said with an agonized look. "We understand the circumstances. We know that you've grown up with your father. So we don't want to say anything against him, but... had we known, we could have been more involved. We would have been involved."
"And we'd like to be involved now," Jughead's grandmother said firmly.
"Jug?" FP's voice rang out anxiously in the hallway. "Jughead?"
"I'm in here, Dad. With my, uh, grandparents? Who you never told me about?" Jughead turned to greet his father with a host of questions on the tip of his tongue.
"With who? What do you mean? What is all this?" FP burst into the room and stared at the couple as he pulled Jughead into a protective embrace that felt more crushing than affectionate. "Who are you, and what are you telling my boy?"
"You must be Brandon's partner." The man held out a hand for FP to shake. FP ignored it.
"The FBI doesn't consider us partners. Or... did Clark put you up to this?" FP sighed heavily. "He has way too much time on his hands if he-,"
"Oh." Jughead slapped his forehead. "No, wait, sorry. Are you Brand's parents? I thought you meant that you were-,"
"Yes, Jughead, exactly. We're so glad to finally meet you both. Brandon never told us that he had a son. We saw a lot of the coverage in the spring, of course." The woman turned to address FP. "But we never dreamed that Jughead was his."
She beamed when she faced Jughead once more. "Well, as you can imagine, we'd like to help out as much as we can, now that we know. Brandon is…" Mrs. Davies trailed off, clearly at a loss.
"Yeah. He certainly is," FP agreed with the unspoken sentiment. "But, uh, Jughead isn't. That is, he's my son. Not Brandon's."
"Oh! Oh goodness. I guess the newspapers really have gotten it wrong." The man shook his head as if to clear it. "Well. The biological relationship really doesn't make a difference to us. We still regard Jughead as our grandchild, and we'd like to get to know him. Maybe even talk about having him to stay with us during a school vacation, if that's all right with you? You're welcome to come too, of course, and Brandon if he's willing. We've got plenty of room."
"Has Brandon told you about the ranch, sweetheart?" The lady smiled warmly as she addressed Jughead again. "It's a great place for young folks to get out in the sunshine, and we wouldn't even put you to work. Unless you decided that you wanted to try out ranch work, of course."
"It's a way of life," The man added, as if this was a common topic of conversation with him. "You could see how you like it and then decide if you wanted to make it a working vacation or just relax and have some fun."
FP wasn't entirely sure what to make of the slow grin and incredulous glee spreading across Jughead's face, but he figured that he might as well let Brandon do the work of sorting this out instead of trying to wade through the misinformation himself. "We'll have to see."
"Wait. Hang on. You're the parents from the story. With the horses." Jughead nodded to himself, even though everyone else in the room stared at him in confusion. "Wow. You know, I think Brand might just be up for a visit."
"He still goes by that?" Brand's father looked amused and nostalgic. "That is a very old nickname. It's nice to hear it again."
This time Jughead exchanged glances with his father, who was giving him a surprised look as well.
"I have so many questions for you," Jughead declared.
"For later," FP headed his son off. "We've got a lot to do today. But yeah... I might just have a few questions myself. It's, uh, nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Davies."
"You shouldn't feel any pressure to call us Mom and Dad, but you are perfectly welcome to do so if you like," Brand's mother offered to FP.
"Ohhh, boy." FP made a face. "You seem really nice, but I'm just - I mean, Brandon's my son's godfather. And not even legally. That's the extent of our relationship." FP tried to soften any disappointment that might represent for the couple.
"Oh goodness; we thought he lived with you. Those newspapers really did get it all wrong, didn't they?" Brand's father shook his head as he absorbed this new information.
"Well, no. Brand does live with us." Jughead attempted to explain. "He's been looking for a place, though, and-,"
"Ah, you broke up? Is Jughead going to be - I mean, are you and Brandon going to work out a custody-,"
"Again, he's my son. Not Brandon's," FP repeated, giving Jughead a quelling look in response to his son's obvious amusement over the conversation.
"Well. We'll see about that." Suddenly Brand's parents seemed defensive and protective, and Mrs. Davies spoke carefully. "That may be up to the courts to-,"
"Come on, Jug," FP said, grabbing Jughead's arm and tugging him toward the door. "We can sort this out later."
"Dad, it's always better to decide these things based on the best interests of-,"
"Jughead."
"Right behind you, Dad." Jughead grinned and waved to Brand's parents as he followed his father from the room. "I'll see you later. It's really great to meet you."
Jughead hesitated for a moment, though, pulling FP to a stop as something occurred to him. "Uh, wait - one more thing. Brand sort of implied that you might be foster parents. Is that true?"
"He's our biological son, if that's what you're asking." Mr. Davies looked puzzled. "We have fostered, though, yes. He mentioned that? It was after he moved out."
"Jughead, you are not a social worker. Let's go." FP began tugging his arm again.
"Wait, what is it?" Mrs. Davies was intrigued. "Is there more that we don't know about Brandon?"
FP and Jughead exchanged glances and couldn't help but laugh.
"My guess is that there's a lot more that you don't know about him. But in this case I think Jug wants you to meet a friend of ours named Max, who's going to need a place to stay real soon." FP decided to just dive into the conversation that Jughead had begun. "No relation to Brandon."
"Oh. I don't know." Mrs. Davies was immediately apologetic. "We're not really equipped to take a baby at the moment-,"
"But that's perfect, because he's a teenager." Jughead was exultant.
FP wasn't going to fill him in right now on why that was very rarely considered 'perfect' in the context of fostering, but he shrugged in acknowledgment of that fact when the Davies couple looked to him in consternation.
"We'll have to see, Jug. Let's go."
"Dad, they even said that they came here looking for a teenager, and-,"
"We'll see." This time FP dropped a hand to the back of Jughead's neck and hauled him away firmly.
00000
"So. Gunnar's officially a rock star." Sweet Pea smirked, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen in Alice's house. "The drummer, no less. That's a thing."
"It's a thing all right," Alice agreed. She was baking oatmeal cookies at Brand's texted request, and following his overly prescriptive instructions - which had randomly included purchasing golden raisins.
"I guess it was nice while it lasted." Sweet Pea's tone was suddenly guarded. "I mean, I got what I wanted, too. You made a decision."
"Yes," Alice agreed a second time. She didn't look up at him from where she was measuring ingredients into a bowl.
Sweet Pea pushed off of the doorframe and turned to leave the kitchen. But then he hesitated.
"Just, you know, to confirm. To communicate clearly and all that." Sweet Pea frowned nervously as he watched Alice continue to work. "What did you decide?"
"That I'll be staying with Hermione and Veronica for at least the next year." Alice looked up then, giving Sweet Pea a meaningful look. "I think it's the wisest course of action. I'm not ready to be on my own, because I'm not entirely sure about my own judgment at this point."
"Huh." Sweet Pea thought that through and his expression darkened. "Hermione hates me."
"Hermione hates the Serpents." This time it was not clear if Alice was in agreement with Sweet Pea or if she was correcting him.
Although Sweet Pea wasn't sure how that could be a correction. But her tone had kind of made it seem like one.
"So... she'll warn you about the dangers of dating me."
"Hopefully. I'm kind of counting on that." Alice nodded. "It's a big part of why I'm planning to stay there for now."
"Okay. Wow." Sweet Pea turned to leave the kitchen for real this time. "Thanks for letting me know."
"Only because I don't trust myself when it comes to you. And if I'm going to date you, I'm gonna need a second - and maybe a third - set of eyes on my decisions. At least for a little while." Alice spoke hurriedly this time, to stop Sweet Pea's retreat. "If I moved out on my own, I'd have to date Gunnar. Because he's great, you know, and I can trust myself to make better decisions with him. I can probably even trust him to make better decisions than you do. Safer ones."
Sweet Pea's eyes widened with shock.
He didn't want to say anything at all that might change Alice's mind, but he also thought that last comment was more of a compliment to Sweet Pea than to Gunnar. Honestly, Gunnar could be kind of a grind in his quest for stability in life.
Then Sweet Pea fully processed what Alice was saying, and he immediately stopped thinking about Gunnar. "Wait. Are you serious?"
"Are you still interested?" Alice didn't seem to harbor any doubt that he was, but it was still kind of nice of her to pretend that she didn't just assume that Sweet Pea was waiting around.
It also provided a great opening for Sweet Pea to walk over, take the measuring cup from her hand, and set it on the counter. He leaned down.
Alice had her arms around his shoulders and was kissing him enthusiastically before Sweet Pea was entirely sure that jumping straight to this was a wise idea.
Which was, you know, part of his charm. Apparently.
This promised to be complicated, but somehow Sweet Pea was not worried at all. Somehow he was entirely confident that they'd figure it out.
And it was going to be amazing.
00000
Jughead was pretty sure that he'd managed to lose FP in the flurry of people pulling them in various directions to make decisions before leaving Toronto.
Which meant they had a very limited amount of time before FP discovered them.
Brand was in the hallway, making sure that they were not discovered or interrupted, though, and Jughead felt pretty good about that as a security measure.
Unfortunately, Max was on high alert for any threat to his master plan.
"Who are you?" Max's eyes narrowed dangerously once Jughead had made the introductions.
"We're Brandon's parents," Mr. Davies explained, his expression softening as he took in Max's small frame and defensive posture. "It's very nice to meet you, Max."
Max looked from Mr. Davies to Mrs. Davies. "I just bet. Look, it's like this: I'm going to live with Tim. If you have plans to do anything to screw that up for me-,"
What followed was a series of threats so colorful that they were barely matched in creativity by the shockingly offensive language that Max used to express them.
Jughead felt his jaw drop, and was dismayed to hear a loud guffaw of laughter that sounded suspiciously like Brand echo through the hallway behind him.
"Oooookay, Max, we're just going to leave now." Jughead grabbed Max's shoulder and was not entirely surprised when the younger boy jerked it out of his reach and turned his death glare on Jughead next.
"Wait." Mrs. Davies held up a hand. When Max turned to regard her curiously - and silently -, Jughead realized that he was not the only one who was surprised by the older woman's mild tone in the face of invective. "Max, honey, we know that we'd never be your first choice. Or your second choice. You should never have to even think about who you're going to live with. You have every reason to be angry; everything's already gone wrong or else we wouldn't be having this conversation in the first place."
Max folded his arms stubbornly.
"But all the same, we are here. That's the reality, and you don't have a lot of time to get used to it before decisions need to be made," Mr. Davies said, taking over for his wife in the conversation:
"So, do you think that you could use some backup, just in case Tim has an unexpected health issue that keeps him from becoming a foster parent? Or in the event that he just plain isn't granted custody?" Mr. Davies studied Max's expression. "We've got an empty bedroom that would be perfect for a boy your age, and I can think of a couple of horses that would feel real lucky if you'd try working with them."
"Can you believe that people will say stuff like this?" Max's expression was incredulous as he addressed Jughead, suddenly allying himself with the older teen against Brand's parents. "I mean, I guess it makes sense that they'll lie. They raised Brand, and he was in the slammer until, like, a minute ago."
Jughead hesitated. He was tempted to laugh, point out that he'd been in jail right alongside Brand, or to agree with Max that he had a valid point - but none of those responses seemed likely to help the situation.
"We're not lying." Mr. Davies continued to examine Max's expression. "Would you like to see some photos of the ranch?"
"Ohhh, photos. Because those never lie. So, what's your game? I can only visit and see the horses if I agree to go live with you?" Max retorted sarcastically. "How much do they pay foster parents, anyway?"
"Max, they're not trying to pull something-," Jughead began to object before Mr. Davies waved reassuringly to stop him and to indicate that he didn't think the backup was necessary.
"That's not it at all, Max. Consider this a standing invitation, no matter what happens. Tim is welcome to come and stay too - any time. We hope that you'll both come, whether he adopts you or he never becomes a foster parent," Mrs. Davies offered.
"That's a fair point about Brandon, too," Mr. Davies said ruefully. "We only started fostering after he moved out as a young adult, and life on the ranch has not been every child's idea of heaven on earth. It certainly wasn't Brandon's. I wish we could have done some things differently with him, but we did our best. You probably know that he's stubborn, and I can tell you that he has always had a mind of his own."
Jughead listened for any further sound from the hallway, but there was only silence. Maybe Brand had left.
"Anyway, we're not trying to use the ranch as a bribe, and we certainly won't rescind our invitation if you're not placed with us, Max," Mr. Davies said. "We just wanted to say hi while we're all in Toronto so that we aren't total strangers; and we'll still have that empty bedroom, no matter what happens."
"Roger could visit too?" Max demanded. "Once I'm living with Tim, I mean, if we decide to see the horses?"
"Uh, maybe. Who's Roger?" Mr. Davies asked. "We'll do our best if you want to bring a friend along, sure."
"That's Tim's dog," Jughead supplied quickly. "He's really well trained."
"If he gets along with our dogs, then sure." Mrs. Davies agreed. "I see no reason why he couldn't come along."
"He does great with other dogs." Max spoke with more confidence than Jughead thought he had any basis for, but it was true: Roger was definitely trained not to be aggressive with other animals. "We'll come and visit after I'm settled in. Could I go over Christmas break, or do you have to take the winters off?"
Jughead raised his eyebrows at Max's confidence that he could call these kinds of shots with Tim.
"The horses wouldn't like having winters off." Mrs. Davies smiled gently. "We might not want to make firm plans just yet, though-,"
"I could come before Christmas Eve and stay until New Year's." Max was staring into space, visibly thinking through the logistics. "Maybe longer if I called in sick. Do you have internet? I could keep up with my classes online."
"Uh, ye-es, we have wifi," Mr. Davies seemed surprised by the question, and by Max's immediate plans to set a date - and to cut school. "But-,"
"Let me guess. You don't really want me to visit?" Max's tone was suddenly accusing again.
The door to the room opened, startling all four of its occupants.
"Stop hassling them. They offered; you'll go. It might not be in eight weeks or whatever, but I think you know that nobody's buying a plane ticket today. So scram." Brand motioned for Max to precede him out of the room. "There's lunch waiting in the conference room down the hall, and you need to make your ride to debriefing."
Max gave Brand an arch look and did not move.
"Wow. You must be forgetting that these are my parents and I work for the FBI. Don't mess with me or I'll make sure that you're my little brother by the end of the week," Brand threatened.
Jughead's eyes widened, and he saw both of Brand's parents react with horror over the wildly inappropriate threat.
Max returned Brand's glare but obeyed, moving toward the door of the room while he admonished the Davieses: "Just make sure the horses are up for it. I don't want them to sleep through my whole visit or anything."
"Do you even know what a horse is? They don't hibernate." Brand dropped a hand onto Max's shoulder, smirking in spite of his irritation with the small teenager. "Honestly. It could be that I'll have to go with you or my parents will find you feeding them kibble or something."
Jughead perked up. This idea had some potential.
"Yeah, I see that face, kid," Brand said to Jughead. "Why don't you go get some lunch too, and I'll talk to my parents in private."
Jughead smiled hopefully at Brand, and then turned to include Brand's parents in his smile. "Thanks!"
"Yeah, thanks," Max echoed. "I'll make sure that Tim has a tent and some good sleeping bags ready before Christmas break."
"They own a ranch. You'll be in a house. With wifi, remember?" Brand gave Max a scandalized look before he saw that the boy was hiding a smirk. "Okay, that's enough out of you. Go eat."
Brand dropped a hand on the back of Jughead's neck as he went past to leave the room. "I want you to come back when you're done eating. My parents are... worth getting to know."
Jughead felt his own expression shift to match the surprise that he saw on the Davieses' faces. "Okay. I'll come back. Uh, Dad might want to come too."
"Sure. This is probably a wolf pack conversation." Brand nodded. "Let me explain who you are to them first, and why they'll want to get to know you. We'll go from there."
This time Jughead felt shy when he glanced at Brand's parents. "Okay. I'll eat and find Dad. And then see you all again in a little bit."
Jughead felt nervous as he followed Max down the hallway, but the feeling quickly began morphing into anticipation.
As he entered the room where lunch had been spread out on a table for everyone, Jughead spotted Clark among the FBI personnel who were descending on the food.
"Hey! I heard you were trying to go undercover in our cell." Jughead grinned as he approached his friend. "It would have been great to catch up with you, but actually I got to-,"
"MacGyver! I heard!" Clark welcomed Jughead with a one-armed hug as he balanced both a plate and a water bottle in his other hand. He seemed like he might have had a little too much coffee, and he spoke in an excited rush:
"That was epic; you should have heard everyone when we got word. I mean, talk about punch drunk. We hadn't had much sleep, and Agent Williams was impressed. She can be really funny, so remind me to fill you in. You have to tell me everything, too, but we might have to do it over the phone. I have to get to Quantico for training ASAP, and my ride to Riverdale is leaving soon."
"Um… you're becoming a Marine?" Jughead did a double take.
"FBI Academy, Jones. I'm the latest trainee, with major emphasis on the 'late' part," Clark corrected. "Their facilities are located on the base. And it's insane. I honestly don't want to know how many strings were pulled because I am way, way out of sequence for the training. SAC Wilson said I'm just going to have to catch up, keep up with my Master's program remotely, and complete the training with honors to show that her faith was not misplaced-,"
"Whoa. She'd better not be holding her breath," Jughead joked, but his eyes were wide as he considered everything that was about to change for Clark - and also what promised to be an impossible schedule. "You only just got your first gun, and shot your first perp."
"They give out honors for academics, too, Jones."
"Ahhh, then maybe you have a chance. But are you planning to sleep ever again?" Jughead grabbed a cookie from the table and took a bite. "Oh man, these oatmeal cookies are amazing."
"Alice made the cookies from Special Agent Davies' recipe. They're good, right? And it's probably a no about sleeping. I'll be back in time for semester break, because that's how little time I have to pull all of this off. I might be washed up by Christmas."
Clark did look a little green around the gills, Jughead realized guiltily - he should stop teasing the older intern.
"You'll pull it off. No question. I can help out by ghost writing your papers for grad school or something," Jughead offered.
Clark gave him a scandalized look. "Yeah, because that will get me into everyone's good graces."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Clark's expression softened. "No. Thanks. Just keep in touch and remind me that I only need to be superhuman for a limited time. Oh, and-," Clark leaned in to speak more quietly, "-tell me exactly what happens with Special Agent Davies. The speculation is wild so far. I've heard everything from 'promotion and massive cash influx' to actual prison. I'm guessing that Canada's dropping him from payroll, but I have no clue what the FBI's going to do. Personally, I'd throw money at keeping him, but the optics might be-,"
"I'll have to let you know." Jughead felt overwhelmed by the rush of theories about Brand's future. "I don't know what anyone's planning. I really don't think prison is a possibility at this point, though."
"Good." Clark looked relieved. "At least that's something. I want to believe that undercover work comes with some backup and protection, especially now that I'm hiring in and all, but every so often an agency just denies everything and washes their hands of an operative when things get hairy. It's kind of-,"
"Yeah, no. That's not what's happening this time." Jughead was amazed once again by how effectively Clark could fill in the blanks with a cohesive narrative when it came to Brand. It was really impressive. "I don't know the details, but he's planning to come home with me and Dad and still work at the RA for now."
"Oh, fantastic. That's so good to hear," Clark said, and then he gave Jughead a serious look. "Okay. There are a few things that you should know. First, I'm riding to Riverdale with Tim and Max, and he said that we're taking your dogs home with us since we'll have room for three crates. I think your father arranged that, so take it up with him; the dogs are both doing well, and Trigger seems to really like your puppy."
Jughead was relieved to hear that. "Thank you, Clark. I was really worried about the cops mixing with them."
"Yeah, I know. We managed to avoid that completely," Clark assured him. "Second, Agent Williams grabbed copies of all the photos on your SD card and either copied or took everything that was on your phone. I dropped off your stuff with your dad, who's around here somewhere, but all of your data is being looked at."
"It's fine; I figured something like that would happen." Jughead shrugged. "Brand was being all weird about my phone, so I think it's got evidence on it. Thanks for not letting anyone else get into my stuff." Jughead looked around the room at everyone grabbing food and then moving on swiftly, as if they all had pressing work to do. The urgency was palpable; it looked as though everyone wanted to finish up and head home right away. "When do you have to leave?"
"As soon as I finish eating." Clark held up the plate in his hand. "Max needs to get to debriefing, and I already told you how late I am, so we're getting on the road with Tim pretty quickly. I should go check in with Williams and Quinn while I have the chance, too, so plan on a long phone call later this week."
"You got it," Jughead agreed readily. "I want to hear everything about FBI training."
"Whatever I'm cleared to tell you." Clark grinned. "And hey, I'm sure you'll be there yourself before too long."
"Eh, we'll see." Jughead was surprised by the strength of the conviction in Clark's tone. "Maybe. Just remember when you get back that you're not the boss of me. 'Wingmen for life' means that any difference in rank is null and void."
Clark laughed and pulled Jughead into a final hug. "We've got history; I won't forget you when I'm at the top. I won't put you on coffee duty, at the very least."
"As if that is anything but an act of pure self-preservation," Jughead quipped, making Clark laugh again. "Seriously, Clark, knock 'em dead. And if I don't hear from you for a while, I'll understand."
"Thanks, MacGyver. I'll call as soon as I can." Clark patted Jughead on the shoulder and then headed toward Quinn and Williams.
Jughead looked around the room and realized that FP had come in while he and Clark were catching up. He was standing with Max, and had already gotten some lunch while the teen seemed to be examining all of the food options with a critical eye.
"Hey, Dad?" Jughead called across the room to get FP's attention. "Brand wants to talk to us after we eat."
"About your god-grandparents?" FP seemed unsurprised. He took a bite of the sandwich he'd assembled from the supplies on the table and moved to join Jughead. Max followed FP, grabbing a can of caffeinated soda as he did so.
"Yeah. I guess that's what they are." Jughead felt a small smile play across his features that he couldn't quite suppress.
"I figured that was coming. Sure; I guess a couple more folks taking an interest can't hurt." FP appeared to be resigned to the idea. "I don't want to hear anything more about contesting custody, though, or we're out of here."
Max looked up sharply. "Wait. They came here for you? Doesn't that just figure."
Jughead caught Max's eye and shrugged. "If you didn't have Tim all lined up…"
The two teens stared at each other for a few beats.
"We'll see," Max finally said, his expression carefully neutral.
"Yeah. We'll see." Jughead let the irrepressible smile widen across his face. "You know... you'd make a good god-uncle."
Max raised an eyebrow at Jughead imperiously. "You should be so lucky."
"Hey. Stop pushing your agenda, Jug." FP leveled a look at his son.
"You want Max to live in Riverdale?" Jughead asked innocently. He was gratified when his father looked powerfully conflicted in response to having that factor pointed out to him: Brand's parents did live far away.
They'd just have to wait and see what happened.
"Did Clark tell you about the deal? For naming your puppy?" Max began carefully stacking individual-sized bags of potato chips on a plate. "I have one."
Agent Quinn had apparently finished talking to Clark; she'd come over to join them and begun assembling a sandwich for herself. She eyed Max's growing pile of potato chips but did not comment. "You came up with a name for the puppy? This is the first I've heard of that."
"Yeah. Clark said that Jughead needed help." Max acknowledged Sarah and then faced Jughead again. "As long as you agree to the terms, I'll let you have the name."
"I have no idea what Clark told you 'the terms' would be," Jughead replied. "They're probably fine, but let's just make sure. What exactly did he agree to?"
"He said that I would get ten percent stake in the puppy, and the right to visit sometimes. Not, like, often." Max suddenly looked unsure of himself when Agent Sarah and FP both reacted visibly - and negatively. "Just... once in a while."
"Sure," Jughead agreed easily, ignoring the unhappy looks that were now directed at him. "What did you come up with?"
"Never."
"As in…?" Jughead made a skeptical face before he schooled his expression.
"Short for 'Never Never.'" Max shrugged casually, though his facial expression was tense. "Take it or leave it. I thought it was good."
"Oh." Agent Quinn seemed to regret her involuntary exclamation when all eyes were suddenly on her. "Um. Like we talked about?"
"About not having to be grown up yet, yeah." Max returned his focus to Jughead. "Agent Sarah's all about me being a kid. Clark told me about you being kidnapped too, and about how Trigger didn't really get to be a puppy. But she still has a chance to not grow up too fast. Also, I read that dogs love to hear their names, so it's convenient when people say they've never seen a dog like her. I took her for, like, a hundred walks while you were in jail and literally everyone said that."
Jughead raised his eyebrows at Agent Sarah with an amused smile. "Huh. That does sound convenient. And Agent Sarah's been big on me being a kid too."
"The name kind of goes with Trigger's, too, but it's not too matchy," Max continued his pitch.
"I like it." Jughead cocked his head to one side. "Never, huh?"
"Just remember that's not her name because I never see her. We have a deal." Max eyed FP and Agent Quinn as he spoke.
"We have a deal," Jughead agreed. He'd probably have to run interference later, since that looked like it might be an uphill battle. "We'll figure it out."
"Good." Max seemed appeased by Jughead's assurances and went back to examining the food spread across the tables.
"Jug?" A female voice cut through the quickly-filling room. Apparently word had gotten out about lunch. "Jughead, you're out?"
"Betty?" Jughead felt his stomach lift as if he was on a roller coaster when he recognized his girlfriend. "You're here!"
It wasn't quite a slow-motion, movie-style reunion when they made their way across the room, but they did crash into each other hard enough to be thrown off balance. Jughead and Betty gripped each other's arms and laughed as they regained their balance.
"You actually released the footage of us rescuing Clark?"
"You busted a criminal right in your cell?"
Betty and Jughead grinned at each other.
"Oh man, we have tons to catch up on. You should meet Max before he leaves, but then I bet we can take lunch somewhere private so that we can talk." Jughead began directing Betty through the room. He leaned in to speak quietly into her ear. "We should be quick, too, before anything else comes up. It's crazy around here."
They joined hands, and Jughead swiftly decided that he could assemble and eat a sandwich with just one hand.
Because he had no intention of letting go for a good long time.
00000
"So, what are you planning to do next?" The reporter was practically salivating. This was the question that everyone in the press conference wanted answered.
Betty had been the one who'd pointed out that literally anyone could call a press conference. It had not been difficult after that for Archie to convince his parents that this was the best way to address the media frenzy efficiently; they'd gotten quite a bit of experience with Jughead's press coverage in the spring.
"Well," Archie smiled mysteriously, "not a whole lot at the moment. We're grounded."
It was true; the parents of the band had been united in that decision.
Except for Gunnar's dad, anyway. And thankfully Gunnar had only been irritated about the whole grounding situation for about as long as it took him to check his E-mail and see that he'd been invited to gig with quite a few bands over the next several months.
Archie was thrilled for him, and also for their band: Gunnar had promised to forge as many connections as possible so that they had options when it came to their eventual second concert.
And there would be a second concert; Archie was positive. It would just take a few months to convince the parents to let them get onstage again.
"I suppose not a whole lot of venues want to take a second risk, huh?" The interviewer leaned forward, smiling conspiratorially. "It's hard to find people with true vision."
"Well. It's probably not the worst vision in the world to expect the unexpected from us," Archie was also leaning forward and pretending to confide in the reporter. As long as they weren't able to play concerts, they'd decided to play 'hard to get' as a band and give teasing comments in this press conference - and then disappear from the scene until the buzz grew intense.
And until they were ungrounded. Whatever.
The reporters stared up eagerly as Archie thought through what other bones to throw them. He smiled, once again aiming for 'mysterious,' and ignored his parents' less than subtle motions signaling him to hurry up and close out the interview.
This was fun.
00000
They had not driven for all that long, but Jughead was still grateful for the opportunity to get out of the car and stretch his legs. The wind was cold, but even that was welcome since he still felt a little groggy from the night they'd spent in the hotel in Toronto: he'd fallen asleep before seven pm in the soft bed and only woken up around ten am.
It was nice to get out of close quarters for a few minutes, too.
From the moment he'd awoken in the hotel room, Jughead had been overwhelmed by the idiosyncratic ways in which Brand and his dad were reacting to them being out of danger at long last.
FP had been sitting on the edge of the bed in the hotel room watching Jughead sleep, as if he was worried that his son might fall victim to SIDS at any moment. Brand had returned while Jughead was showering, and surprised his godson with takeout from all over their stomping grounds - and then Brand had watched Jughead eat as though he were an endangered animal in a zoo exhibit.
Thankfully the scrutiny had lessened somewhat after that, even though Jughead had periodically gotten a vibe from both adults that if it had been in any way socially acceptable, he'd have been on an actual leash.
At least after everything that had happened, that overwhelming protective impulse from Brand and FP was equal parts reassuring and terrifying. Under any other circumstances, Jughead was pretty sure that 'terrifying' would have won by a landslide, and he'd have been ready to escape at the first opportunity - instead of just complaining loudly and continually, as he'd ended up doing.
The day had not been all bad, either. The wolf pack had spent their remaining hours in Toronto showing FP around and telling him stories. The bookstore had been quite the adventure, since the cashier recognized them and assured Brand that he'd donated generously to his 'cause' and was encouraging others to do the same.
Jughead was still surprised that his dad hadn't said anything and had simply let Brand explain that they'd raised all the funds that they needed - and then some. Jughead hadn't checked the website personally, but he got the sense that the amount donated to Brand had reached somewhere in the high six figures and was still climbing.
Now they were driving home from Toronto in a caravan with the rest of the FBI. Except for Clark, anyway, since he had left the day before with Max, Tim, and the three dogs.
"Is your camera handy? This is kind of neat." Brand gestured toward the whirlpool far below the scenic overlook that they'd pulled into.
"I'll go get it," Jughead jogged back toward the car. "It's too bad we can't stop at the actual falls too."
"Well, now. Maybe we can." FP was getting out of the driver's seat and pulling on his non-Serpents leather jacket against the chill. "A little bird told me that everyone was authorized for one more night of per diem. And apparently if we upgrade to a room with a view, we only have to pay the difference."
Jughead stared at his father. "Wait. Did you plan this?"
"I sure did. It's a getting-out-of-jail surprise for you and Brandon. We're all staying at a hotel overlooking the falls tonight." FP grinned when Jughead whooped and gave him a hug. "As I recall, you were awfully interested in doing this during the summer. It'll be cold, but also a lot less crowded now."
"Brand, did you hear that?" Jughead scrambled to retrieve his camera from the car as he yelled toward his godfather. "We get to stay over at the falls!"
"The area's a lot more touristy than I think you're picturing, kid," Brand said, but then he smiled. "Don't let me spoil it for you, though. You'll be impressed; it's a destination for a reason. That's really nice of you, FP."
"All I ask is that I not hear the phrase 'whipping boy' come out of your mouth again for at least twenty-four hours." FP gave Brand a look.
"Done. For the duration of our stay, I will not mention any of the imminent issues awaiting me in Riverdale." Brand held up his hand as if he was pledging allegiance. "This will be fun. Have you booked any tours? We should do it up right; we should plan to have dinner somewhere photogenic."
"It's all arranged. Relax." FP smiled, though. "I do know how to plan a surprise."
SAC Wilson strolled over from her own car. Agent Sarah did not get out of the passenger seat, Jughead noticed with a frown.
"Are Betty and Archie and everyone staying overnight too?" Jughead asked.
"Alice wants to spend some time talking with Hermione Lodge, so Sweet Pea is giving her a lift on his motorcycle all the way back to Riverdale." FP was clearly impressed, while SAC Wilson seemed mildly horrified by this information. "Sheriff Keller is taking Kevin straight home, and Joaquin is long gone. But yeah, everyone else is spending the night here with us."
"Cool." Jughead's fingers tightened around his camera as he considered the photo opportunities he was likely to have.
"I thought I might ask you about your introducing Max to Mr. and Mrs. Davies, as long as we have some time," SAC Wilson said to Jughead. "Do you think we could carve out a few minutes to talk, either tonight or tomorrow?"
"Wow. You're like a mom," Jughead said, shaking his head in amazement. "Eyes in the back of your head."
When Wilson and his father both reacted, exchanging disconcerted looks, Jughead froze.
"Uh, I just mean that you, um, see things. Most of what's going on. I didn't mean anything unprofessional, I promise." Jughead grimaced apologetically and began to move away toward Brand and the overlook. "I'm sorry. And, yeah, we can find time to talk. Maybe tonight at the hotel?"
"It's fine, Jughead," Wilson called after the retreating teen. "That sounds like a good plan."
Jughead nudged Brand once he'd reached his godfather, and they moved together toward the railing. "Okay, I might be losing it. But I have to ask. My dad and SAC Wilson?"
Brand pushed Jughead's shoulder hard enough that the teen stumbled a step before he shoved Brand in return.
"What?" Jughead demanded.
"Never in a million years, kid. And don't you ever say that again." Brand laughed loudly, and the sound echoed in the vast space over the water. "Can you imagine?"
Jughead sneaked a glance back toward FP and Wilson, who were watching him and Brand. He wasn't sure that he could imagine it, but he also wasn't sure that he was wrong.
Stranger things had happened.
00000
"So I'm co-managing the band with Mrs. Andrews," Veronica was explaining the new arrangement, "and already learning a huge amount about business, merchandising, and the music industry."
"My mom didn't know what hit her. Ronnie's already amazing at it. It's going to make a rocking college application essay, too," Archie confirmed with a proud smile.
"And Alice is going to stay with you and your mother?" Betty asked Veronica. "That's so nice."
"We talked it over, and it makes a lot of sense." Veronica was suddenly more subdued, but clearly trying to remain upbeat. "She's going to offer to pay my mother some rent and pitch in for utilities, and she's even talking about commuting to a local college and keeping her room for at least freshman year. I had kind of thought I'd get my mom to myself for a while before I leave for college... but I'm sure it will work out."
"Of course it will," Jughead said confidently. "Alice is great; you'll have a blast. And I'm sure you'll get tons of time with your mother."
"Huh." Brave face or no, Veronica frowned at Jughead's blithe response. "I'm going to remind you that you said that."
"What do you mean?" Jughead was puzzled.
"Well, from what you said, Brand's parents are probably going to foster Max. Brand seems kind of protective of them now that they've showed up," Veronica pointed out. "And nobody's able to ignore the ridiculous tension between him and Agent Quinn, even if we want to."
That had been fairly awkward, Jughead had to admit. "Okay, but-,"
"And you can't tell me you haven't noticed Wilson noticing your dad," Veronica said. She gave Jughead a knowing smile when he looked startled. "Oh, come on. It makes sense, too; now that he's the perfect blend of respectable and bad boy, it was only a matter of time before someone scooped him up."
Jughead wasn't sure what his expression was doing, but Betty was trying valiantly not to laugh while rubbing his arm reassuringly, so it couldn't be good.
"But don't worry. I'm sure you won't be left home alone because FP's having a sleepover and Brand's off teaching Max to ride a horse at his parents' ranch." Veronica raised her eyebrows significantly.
"A sleepover?" Archie snorted.
"Well, what's going on with your parents, Arch? Speaking of sleepovers and all." Betty's tone suggested that she was defending Jughead even though the question was innocuous enough. "Mine are having their usual drama, so if I wasn't already committed to helping Agent Quinn with the new Krav training program at the field office I'd be tempted to tell them that we're spending a full week in Niagara-," Betty gave Jughead a reassuring look when he wrapped a protective arm around her, "-but your mother looks awfully cozy with your dad."
"Yeah." Archie lifted one shoulder. "I have predicted eighteen out of zero make-ups, though, so I'm not weighing in this time."
"You predicted what?" Betty made a face.
"He thought they would get back together a bunch of times," Jughead supplied, "but they never have. I don't think I could make a guess either, man. I thought for sure this spring-,"
"Me too. That was lucky number eighteen," Archie said with a sigh. "I think FP and SAC Wilson have a better chance of making it. Or Brand and Agent Sarah, for that matter, and he's about to go back to jail for stalking."
They all turned to look at the adults.
FP and Aaditi were standing near an overlook, chatting while they pointed out various sights. Mr. and Mrs. Andrews were sharing a bench and seemed to be people watching while they talked. Agent Quinn was leaning out over a railing so that she could get a better view of something far below, and Brand was watching her longingly from about twenty feet away.
"I'll tell him to cool it." Jughead rolled his eyes. "I'll be right back, Betty."
Betty squeezed Jughead's hand and then let him go to Brand.
"Hey. Are you doing okay?" Jughead asked as he approached his godfather.
"Never better," Brand draped an arm around Jughead's shoulders and pulled him against his side. "Wow; you feel cold, kid. We're breaking your winter coat out when we get home. Are you ready for the fireworks? Those test shots mean they're coming any minute."
"Yeah." Jughead leaned into Brand's warmth. "You're not cold at all."
"One of my many charms." Brand smiled down at Jughead. "Are you okay? You can go hang with your friends, you know. I'm not going anywhere, and we can always talk about my woes back at the hotel after we all split up for the night."
"I know that." Jughead thought through what he wanted to say. "I just… I want to spend time with you too. Even though I guess we don't exactly need each other now that Rose is locked up, I still want to do things with you. Like watching fireworks. It doesn't always have to be when there's nothing better going on."
"Nice as that is to hear, you literally just admitted that hanging out with your friends would be better," Brand chided gently. He pushed Jughead's shoulder. "Go. Niagara Falls is a place you should enjoy with a girlfriend. Especially when there are fireworks."
"Okay." Jughead took a step away and then turned back toward Brand. He hesitated before speaking again. "Brand... you're going to keep in touch with your parents now. And Max is probably going to be placed with them. And I know a lot is going to be different now with the FBI-,"
"Jones." Brand cut him off and waved a hand as if he were shooing away a fly. "Nothing's going to change. You're my godson. You're apparently not planning to ditch me for Betty, foolish as that decision is, and at this point you'd be trading up if you took FP over me."
Brand smiled reassuringly. "Roy was right; this is the kind of luck that people sell their souls for and still can't get. I'm not looking for anything to change, except maybe for you to grow up and be a little less trouble. More of a partner in crime. Or, uh, crime-solving," Brand made a face, "since I probably shouldn't be talking about breaking the law with you so soon after we got out of jail, huh?"
"Probably not." Jughead grinned. He stepped back toward Brand, who pulled him into another warm hug.
"We made it this far, kid. We're not technically home yet, but I think we are officially home free." Brand tousled Jughead's hair.
Jughead squeezed Brand and when he smiled over at his dad it didn't surprise him to see that FP was looking around for him. His dad visibly relaxed when he caught sight of Jughead with Brand.
They both waved to FP, and he walked over through the crowd to join them.
"The fireworks are about to start. You're not going to watch them with Betty?" FP asked Jughead.
"That's exactly what I was saying," Brand agreed. "Don't make her watch them alone, Jones."
Jughead eyed the two adults, but both looked relaxed and happy. "All right. Just don't fight," Jughead admonished as he left them.
"We'll try our hardest," FP called after him, his tone radiating amusement.
Jughead rejoined Betty and wrapped his left arm around her. She leaned into him, and Jughead sneaked just one last glance back at his dad and Brand.
The other two members of the wolf pack were standing at the edge of the overlook, talking and laughing together.
Jughead lifted his camera and caught a shot of them, just as the first bursts of fireworks illuminated them in the crowd.
"We've all come a long way," Betty observed when she saw where Jughead was looking.
"Yeah." Jughead buried his nose in Betty's hair and inhaled deeply as she giggled lightly at the sensation. The fireworks display picked up speed and continued to hold the attention of seemingly everyone in the city. Jughead recalled Brand's words: "And now we're home free."
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I feel like I should have a giant flag to plant here.
I hope you enjoyed and I am so glad you've read along! I've loved writing this series so much, and I wasn't kidding about there maybe being more in the works... and I think you can see where that would go... but nothing is guaranteed, and nothing will be forthcoming until a good hiatus has been had.
Special thanks once again to Living Lucid Dream(!) and Skyrider45, and Guest for your unfailing support and responses. It's been amazing to connect with you over this story! I'll love hearing from other readers, too, since there's a place in my heart for every note. But man, the investment of the regular reviewers is something really special and it made this story so much more than it otherwise would have been.
Thank you, thank you, and thank you. It's been an amazing ride!
Be well, and don't be strangers!
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