I am so, so sorry.

There has been a LOT going on, health and personally. Writing just wasn't coming together for me, and I refuse to post sloppy chapters. You deserve better than that. Things are still very busy - I have to study for a certification for work, while shopping my novel to agents and enjoying a very crowded concert schedule - but I'm aiming for biweekly updates for the next few months until things settle down a bit. Bear with me.

Now, let's get some fluffy Bughead moments with a lemon twist. This is a transition chapter, but these two deserve a bit of calm before the storm I'm creating.

Song: Goldmine - Fitness Club Fiasco (remember, this story has a Spotify playlist!)

Disclaimer: They're not my toys, but I enjoy playing with the Riverdale characters.


Fourteen: Goldmine

"Of all the hearts that fill this lonely world
I don't know where you came from, but I know it wasn't here...
But there's something in your smile that purges all my doubts."
Goldmine - Fitness Club Fiasco

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to my Fuck You, Chuck Clayton soiree!"

Betty gasped as Veronica threw open the doors to her family's suite at the Pembrooke. The inherently elegant suite had been embellished by, Jughead assumed, the best party faeries Lodge money could buy. Twinkle lights adorned the mini-bar in the corner of the room and the table housed enough cakes, chips and candies to feed the football team. Sky-blue and white chrysanthemums featured as table centrepieces. It was enough to mark the occasion, Jughead mused, without overwhelming the clear guest of honour.

"Oh V, what did you do?"

Veronica chuckled, throwing an arm over Betty's shoulder. "I haven't done a thing! Andre, however, has carefully fulfilled a small checklist of to-do items on my behalf."

Betty flushed, bowing her head. "This really wasn't necessary."

"Betty Cooper, you have just walked away from an abusive asshat. I, for one, would like to toast this wonderful day, and I'm pretty sure everyone here is overjoyed for your freedom. Now, come! Mummy and Daddy are away overnight on business, and Andre has procured a refreshing Riesling for our festivities!"

Veronica busied herself with opening the first of five visible bottles of wine while Jughead nudged Betty gently. "You deserve a celebration after how you took him down," he murmured. "Go with it."

"I guess that scene and what Ethel told us is all a little overwhelming," Betty replied. "But you're right. Veronica wants to do something nice for me. I have good friends."

Jughead cleared his throat playfully, with an exaggerated adjustment of his beanie. "Great friends, Cooper. Fantastic."

Betty grinned mischievously as Veronica handed each of them a glass of wine. "They'll do."

The group gathered closer as each teen found themselves with a brimming glass of wine. Veronica held her glass up high, the picture of a New York socialite.

"To our dear friend Betty Cooper, who slayed her dragon and sent him sputtering to his bro cave. We love you so much, and look forward to more frequent smiles and milkshakes at Pop's."

"To Betty!" her friends echoed, glasses crossing and clinking.

Betty, to everyone's surprise, knocked back half of her glass in a single gulp. "Alright, let's get some music going. I feel the need to dance!"

The next hour passed in a blur, as Jughead hovered around perimeter of their party room: Betty and Veronica, dancing wildly to a Rihanna song; Kevin challenging Archie to an arm wrestling competition and nearly winning, to even Kevin's surprise; and Archie being prodded by Veronica into an "Uptown Funk" sing-along. Mindful of Archie's earlier displeasure and dwelling on his own insecurities, Jughead had maintained a friendly distance between himself and Betty. After all, they hadn't exactly defined what they were to each other. There was definitely attraction, but in spite of Betty's admission the night before, a part of him couldn't fathom what a beautiful, intelligent woman like her would ever want with a broken fuck-up like him.

All of that changed when Betty tugged on his arm, cheeks flushed from three glasses of wine and a solid hour of dancing, and asked him to help her bring out snacks from the kitchen. Obliviously, he'd followed her—he was hungry for something with a little more substance than Twizzlers and cherry tarts—and promptly found himself pinned against the door of Veronica's fridge by a feisty blonde.

"Betty—"

"I've wanted to do this for hours," Betty whispered.

Her mouth captured his in a frenzied kiss and he surrendered helplessly. His hands roamed her hips of their own volition, curving around to grip her buttocks. Jughead groaned, impressed with the results of a year's worth of cheerleading. Vixen, indeed. Not to be outdone, Betty pressed herself against him, hands fisting the back of his flannel shirt until it pulled his arms taut.

He would never, ever get tired of this. He would reel at her touch as if it were the first, each and every time. She was softness and strength, scintillating and sweet. She was a forest fire, the flame to which his moth wings fluttered helplessly. Consumed by raw need, he gently tugged at her lower lip with his teeth, smirking at the pleased purr of Betty's reply. A rumble beneath his spine startled them both, the couple laughing as they realized they'd pressed the ice button on the fridge in their fervor.

"Is that a sign?" Jughead mused.

Betty eyed the ice cubes mischievously. "Or is it a prop?"

Jughead groaned, images of a scantily-clad Betty and all the ways he could melt a cube of ice flooding his mind. "Cooper, you're killing me."

"Well, well! What do we have here?"

The duo spun anxiously, startled by the voice of their hostess. Veronica, clearly bemused, leaned against the opposing countertop as they hastily straightened their respective attire.

"V, we talked about this."

"Oh, we talked about it," Veronica echoed, smirking at Jughead's flushed cheeks. "And did you tell our resident Capote what I said?"

Betty shook her head furiously, her own cheeks stained scarlet. Jughead tilted his head askance, now intrigued. Betty told Veronica about us? What did she say?

Edging closer, Veronica toyed with the pearls encircling her throat. "Well, Jughead Jones, I told our Betty that you were certainly an upgrade, and that she should waste no time in—"

"Veronica!" Betty gasped.

"—asking you on a date." Veronica giggled, booping Betty's nose with a well-manicured fingertip. "God, B, what gutter have your hormones dragged you into? Not that I blame you. Mr. Jones does have that James Dean edge about him."

Now it was Jughead's turn to squirm, as Veronica scrutinized him. "Betts is in charge. Of us, of… whatever happens."

Veronica might as well have been cleaning a proverbial shotgun, such was the intensity of her gaze. "I like you, Jones. I like what my bestie has told me about you. But I won't let anyone hurt her, ever again."

"I'd rather die," he blurted out truthfully.

Betty's hand reached for his, gripping it tightly. "Oh, Juggie, I know."

"And so do I," Veronica pronounced with a smile. "From the bottom of my heart, thank you for helping Betty find her strength again. As for you two sneaking around…"

Betty shrugged, looking to Jughead for support. "We wanted to keep things quiet. I don't want Chuck to hurt him."

"Let him try," Jughead grumbled. "I have more tricks than a liver shot."

"No, Betty is right. I want that scumbag to know he was dumped for being a sorry excuse for a man. It's all about optics," Veronica added knowingly. "But that is outside of the secure confines of the Lodge home. You're among friends here. Friends you can trust to be discreet."

Betty's hand fidgeted with her blouse, her brow furrowed in thought. "Meaning?"

"Meaning the sexual tension between you two is so obvious, Stevie Wonder just called and asked you two to cool off!"

Rolling her eyes, Veronica ushered them back into the heart of the festivities, a hand planted firmly on their respective backs. To their mutual embarrassment, Veronica clapped her hands loudly, drawing Kevin and Archie's attention.

"If the two of you have somehow missed the giant elephant in the room, Betty and Jughead are smitten with each other," Veronica announced.

"Veronica!" Betty hissed, tugging on her arm.

"I knew it!" Kevin enthused, slamming down his drink.

Ignoring Betty's mumbled protests—and Jughead's speechless horror—Veronica continued. "Obviously, this knowledge cannot leave our inner circle. So not a word at school, no social media, no telling our hook-ups, Kevin, no kidding!"

Kevin's jaw fell slack in a mirror of Jughead's. Archie, already well aware of this development, maintained a stoic, neutral expression. It worried Jughead greatly.

"You two," Veronica continued, wrapping an arm around Betty, "are free to be yourselves here. Which means you can continue to violate my kitchen, but please know it's not the only option you have."

Pivoting on her heel, Veronica made her way to the entertainment system, hell-bent on changing up the music. Noticing her wide-eyed stare, Jughead's shoulder nudged Betty's softly.

"You okay?"

Her hand reached up, twisting her blonde curls over her left shoulder as she forced a smile. "A little mortified, but I'm fine."

"Same."

A knot in his gut, one that had made itself at home the night before in her dimly-lit bedroom, had slowly grown and tangled within. Feeding on Archie's unexpectedly harsh reaction that morning, Betty's visible nerves and his own lifelong insecurities, it seemed palpable now beneath his skin, protruding painfully. His lungs seized as he noticed Archie and Betty exchange a pointed glance.

"Betty?"

"Hmm?"

"We don't have to… I mean, if you're having second thoughts…"

His field of vision hazed and lurched as his doubts swelled. Had he taken advantage of a friend in pain? Had Veronica's unwanted announcement shaken Betty, too?

"Jug?" The concern in Betty's voice startled him. "Hey, it's okay."

She folded her arms around him tightly and he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He clung to her tightly as she murmured in his ear to breathe, to relax, that she was here and they were okay. We're okay. Was she okay? Archie's eyes… He couldn't understand the darkness there.

"Tell me what you're afraid of," she whispered softly.

Do you have a year?

"Losing you," he mumbled.

"Never going to happen."

She was so confident, even as he crumpled beneath the weight of prying eyes and a murder that haunted him whenever he managed to push aside his nightmare visions of Betty dead, Betty beaten, Betty missing, never to be heard from again…

"I'm not with you because I want to hurt Chuck." Her lips grazed his ear, a soft tickle and a warm wisp of breath. "I'm doing exactly what I want to, from now on."

Betty's gentle voice was the salve for a weary heart. Pulling back, he studied her face carefully: her sea-green eyes, the faint twitch of her nose, her warm smile. He knew it then: he was being irrational. Their quiet conversation the night before had been as genuine as any they'd ever shared. Her discomfort wasn't their evolving relationship.

"Did you notice it?" she asked.

"Archie?" At her slight nod, he continued. "Yeah. He saw us last night."

"Oh." Reaching for a nearby glass of wine, Betty downed it in a single gulp. "Should we talk to him?"

"I don't know. Maybe we wait for him to talk to us?"

The music edged louder, making quiet conversation impossible. Veronica's doing, he knew before spying her in the corner of the room, opening another bottle of wine. With a helpless shrug, Betty handed Jughead his own glass of wine.

"When in Rome!" Betty relented, laughing softly. "We'll figure it out tonight. After pizza."

"Is there pizza?" Jughead's stomach growled angrily at the thought.

"There will be now, after Veronica's little stunt."

With a wink and a slight sashay of her hips, she headed for a refill—and apparently, to negotiate a little pepperoni-infused payback.

God, he loved her!

A tapping upon his shoulder tore him from his unhealthy appreciation of Betty's curves. Kevin, it seemed, had a few words for Jughead.

"I knew it," Kevin gushed, echoing his initial reaction.

"Knew what, exactly?"

"You're not the only one who watched Betty fall all over a certain ginger Adonis," Kevin replied slyly. "I had to listen to her complaints for years. And, I have to admit, I was rooting for them, in that picturesque, perfect movie way. Who do you think coined Barchie is endgame?"

Jughead gritted his teeth against the mountain of salt being poured in a years-long wound. "Your point, Kevin?"

"The point is, even though I was being the supportive friend, I could see the way you looked at her. The way the two of you weren't just close friends, but spoke your own language. The way you two always got each other in a way she and Archie never did. And when you left for Toledo, I realized that whatever crush or feelings you had? It was a two-way street. It was Shakespearean."

Kevin gestured to Betty, who was handing Veronica her cell phone with a determined grin. "And when you came back, it was like this part of Betty she'd buried within herself came tumbling back out. You saved her, Jughead."

"She saved herself," Jughead firmly corrected him. "I just reminded her that she could do it."

"However we got here, thank you. I mean that." With a sideways glance at Archie, Kevin sighed. "As for the football star, he's lost his identity within your triad as the object of everyone's affections. Give him time."

Jughead tugged anxiously on his beanie, leaning against the wall. "I hope you're right."

"Hello, resident queer? Trust me. I understand guys."

With a soft chuckle, Kevin slipped across the room, goading Archie into another arm wrestling match. Jughead studied his friend—brother, really—as he flexed his muscles and insisted last time, he'd gone easy on Kevin. Kevin had a sound theory, but the fractured foundation of their friendship felt like something deeper. Whatever it was, he would have to find a way to approach Archie without shutting him down. It called for a delicate approach.

Shaking his head, he glanced to the right as Veronica cheered Archie on. This is a job for Betty.


He walked her home that night, despite Veronica's offer to recruit Smithers to shuttle them around. The last thing he wanted was a limo dropping him at the trailer park, and Betty refused to let him walk home alone. Archie, to his surprise and concern, decided to catch a ride later with Kevin. The sheriff's son shrugged and smile, as if to say, I'll work on it.

Those worries swirled in the back of his skull as his fingers interlaced with Betty's, tiny fists of thought drumming a frantic beat. It was risky, holding hands in public. He knew this. But the moment her hand had reached for his, he was ten again, leading her through the woods beyond Sunnyside Park to his beloved clearing. In his mind's eye, she was skipping along beside him, urging him to hurry. A secret shared by Jughead was rare, and Betty was tripping over her white sneakers in her impatience for the reveal.

"So, what exactly did Archie see?"

Jughead grimaced, reluctant to release the oblivious bliss of his reverie. "He saw the kiss. Likely both of them."

Betty sighed, squeezing his hand gently. "And we didn't tell him ourselves. I can understand him feeling bothered by that. Was that the impression you got?"

They turned a corner down a side street, Jughead intentionally leading them away from main roads. Betty might be willing to risk being caught, but she was also buzzed on a bottle of wine, perhaps more.

"That was part of it," Jughead ceded. "He also realized I knew about what Chuck did to your arm before your reveal."

Betty nodded thoughtfully, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I'll talk to him about that. I do owe him an explanation for not wanting to tell him."

"There's more to it, Betts. He was asking questions about how long I'd…" He hesitated, his throat dry and gritty like the time he'd fallen face-first in the playground and swallowed a clump of sand.

"How long you'd what?"

Jughead paused beneath a flickering streetlight, lifting their clasped hands between them. "This. How long I'd hoped that maybe there would be this. A moment. Maybe more. Us being… what you call this."

"You mean dating, Juggie?" Betty's eyes sparkled beneath the soft yellow glow. "That's what we're doing."

Jughead swallowed hard. "We're doing whatever you want, Betty. I won't assume anything, or pressure you, or—"

Her lips pressed to his gently, silencing his panicked rambling. His left hand reached up to cup her cheek, drawing her close for a moment, but only just. He broke away despite every fibre of his being craving her touch.

"People could see, Betty."

"Let them."

"They could see and tell Chuck," he pleaded.

This gave her pause, and she nodded sadly. "I don't want him to hurt you."

"Me? Look at what he's already done to you!"

"He attacked you too, Jughead. Because of me." She waved off his protests. "I know. We agreed to let our guilt go. Hold him accountable. And we will. Together. Because that's what we are."

A soft buzz emanated from Betty's bag. Her phone, Jughead realized. She swiped the screen, reading a message with wide eyes.

"Betts?"

"It's Ethel. Trev will meet me tomorrow and tell me they kept the playbook." She texted a quick reply, smiling to herself. "And once I know where it is, I can go after it."

"We. I'm going with you."

"No, you have a different assignment, Mr. Jones. Come on, my mother will start calling if I'm not home soon."

They resumed their walk, past the small park near the elementary school where they'd met. Betty gestured to the playground, smiling softly.

"You need to spend some time with Archie. He doesn't have practice tomorrow, so you can grab food at Pop's and hash everything out. You're both terrible at talking about your feelings, but give it a try for me."

Jughead groaned, his hand swatting against the chain link fence. "Betty, you can't be serious. You're not going after that playbook alone, especially given Chuck's involvement."

"I won't go alone, I promise. But if we're going to move forward from this? If we're going to solve Jason Blossom's murder? We need all hands on deck. We need to be united." She nudged her shoulder against his. "I'll talk to him about Chuck. But you need each other, as much as I need you."

She was right. He knew it. She'd always been the voice of calm wisdom in their group. The one who could find the good in anyone, who could nurture it and preserve it against a world that wasn't kind on the Southside. And if he could manage to confess his feelings to her, surely he could explain them to Archie.

Well, try to, anyway.

They were within sight of her home now, the cookie-cutter house with its perfectly maintained yard as a symbol of the Coopers' superficial perfection. In unison, their hands fell to their sides, cognizant of her neighbours—the Klumps, in particular. One whisper of a cheerleader would circle quickly to the angry ears of Chuck. Betty's pace slowed considerably, and Jughead matched it.

"I wish you could come upstairs," Betty mused.

"I could climb the ladder. I'm quite fond of splinters now."

Betty shook her head, curls shimmering as they tumbled back and forth. "You need to get home to FP. You told me how he's struggling. For your sake, I want him to stay sober."

Jughead couldn't disagree. His father was a strong man, a stubborn one, but there were moments of vulnerability that betrayed the loneliness within. Maybe he'd stop at Pop's on the way home, grab them burgers for a late-night snack over TV.

"I'm going to walk to school with Archie tomorrow," she announced, pausing before her driveway. "Talk things through with him. Get FP to drive you in tomorrow, okay?"

Jughead smirked. "Are you worrying about me in this situation?"

"I can't see you hurt again." Her features clouded as she fidgeted with the collar of his coat. "Just… humor me, please?"

His hand covered hers, squeezing gently. "Okay, I promise. For you."

"Thank you." Reluctantly, she took a step backwards. "Goodnight, Juggie. Text me when you get home?"

"Yeah. I'm stopping at Pop's on the way, so don't panic," he added, realizing Betty was the kind of person who would know precisely how long his walk home would take.

"You just ate an entire pizza at Veronica's!" Betty teased.

He shrugged and smirked. "Yeah, and we walked home. I'm feeling snacky."

Betty's soft giggle warmed his heart. With a slight wave of her hand, she walked backwards up the driveway, never breaking her gaze from him. He, too, couldn't tear himself away from her beauty. Her cheeks flushed from the wine, her makeup smudged from laughing so hard she'd cried—it stole his breath.

"Goodnight," she called softly from her door.

"Goodnight, Betts."

Hands thrust deep in his pockets. Jughead's step was a little lighter as he headed for Pop's. His mind drifted to a childhood memory, one innocent and light. The trio were together on a summer's day, eating popsicles in Archie's yard as Fred filled the small pool he'd bought the year before. Betty's blonde hair was in a long, French braid, her pink summer dress fluttering as she swayed side to side in eager anticipation.

"It's too hot," she complains. "I hate summer!"

I laugh as she pouts and slurps at her melting treat. "You hate the winter because it's cold. You hate spring because it rains. I think you just don't like weather."

Archie smirks, his mouth full of cherry popsicle. "Jug's right. Summer is great. No school. Just us, hanging out. So what if it's hot?"

"We can't climb trees when it's this hot! Or swing on the swings, because the chains burn you." Betty waves her popsicles like their grade three teacher swings a ruler. "You two are mean, but I'm smart."

I frown, realizing she has a point. I love the swings, but the chains do hurt to hold when it's very hot. And if you can't hold on, you can't rock the tire swing until it's bumping against the frames.

"Alright, kids. It's good to go. Remember to wipe your feet before you get in to keep the grass out," Fred tells them as he turns off the hose.

"Yay! Thank you, Mister Andrews!" Betty cheers.

Popsicles are quickly eaten and Betty pulls off her dress, revealing her favourite blue swimsuit. She beats me into the pool, but only just. Archie takes his time, probably because he owns a pool. Me and Betty? For different reasons, our moms and dads told us no way.

Betty splashes me playfully, squealing as I splash her back. "Juggieeeeee!"

"Fair's fair!"

Archie drops in beside me and the circle is complete. "This is the best. Just us, hanging out. No stupid teachers. No stupid Reggie." His expression is suddenly serious. "I'm really glad we're all best friends."

"Me too," Betty echoes. "You're the best boys in the world. We have so much fun."

"That's because we aren't jerks," I point out, dunking my head underwater.

"No jerks allowed!" Betty declares.

Archie slaps the water's surface enthusiastically. "Yeah! And if any jerk tries to bother us, we chase him away together."

"We should have a secret signal," Betty suggests.

"Like a Bat Signal?" I ponder aloud.

"Yes! Like, if I tug my ponytail, I'm talking to a jerk."

I laugh. "Betty, you're always tugging your ponytail."

"Then I'm always talking to jerks!"

She sticks out her tongue at me and I flick water at her face. She shakes her head, glaring at me, but I'm not worried. She never stays mad.

"Plus Jug and I don't have ponytails. We need one signal for everybody," Archie insists.

"Fine." Betty slumps further beneath the cool water. "What about a friendship signal? Like, I need my friends right now. It can be for jerks, or if you're sad or angry. Like… this!"

Betty places her palm over her heart and pointedly pats it three times. She grins, clearly pleased with her idea. I look to Archie, who seems uncertain. It's a little weird and obvious, but it clearly means a lot to Betty. And we don't have to use it ourselves. We just need to see Betty do it.

"Well…"

"Three pats, three friends," Betty explains. "You have to see it in a classroom or the lunch room, or—"

"Sure. Arch?"

The redhead shrugs. "Cool."

Betty beams, clapping her hands. "Yay! Now nobody will ever bother us."

Jughead smiled to himself as he patted his heart: one, two, three. Things were awkward, but they would be okay. They shared too much collective history not to be.


Veronica has forced the cat out of the bag because she is Team Bughead like all of us.

Next up: a search for a playbook; Jughead looks to patch things up with Archie; and Betty has some explaining to do to Archie herself.