At long last, we come to the final main chapter. Posting two days early just because you're all wonderful! I'm so glad this version makes sense to you, and to the guests who said this is their favourite story, my heart is SO happy.

Reviewer question: how did FP know to follow Bughead to Jason's car and torch it when they left? Show never did explain that well, did they? My answer, reader: FP feared for Jughead's safety. He knew he was looking into things - remember, Joaquin was spying in the series, basically. FP as Serpent King asked a trusted Serpent to watch out for Jughead. This also fits with the show (note how FP was trying to find out where Jughead was going to stay when the Twilight was shut down?)

Life has been pretty mean to Bughead in this AU. Here's where I start to make it right for them. A little fluffy flashback goodness, and some good fortune. Warning: this story is rated T, but consider it a strong T from here on out.

Song: Fire Meet Gasoline - Sia

Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, just building dreamy ship castles in it.


Twenty-Four: Fire Meet Gasoline

"Strike the match, strike the match now
We're a perfect match, perfect somehow
We were meant for one another
Come a little closer
Flame you came to me
Fire meet gasoline
Fire meet gasoline
I'm burning alive
I can barely breathe
When you're here loving me
Fire meet gasoline…"

Fire Meet Gasoline - Sia

Three years ago

"So which play are we doing?"

Jughead groaned, opening the fridge door and studying its contents. "I can't believe this is even a choice with you, Betts."

His blonde best friend settled into a seat at the kitchen table and unzipped her backpack. "Shakespeare is classic, Jughead Jones."

"Classic? If by writing dramatic re-enactments of historical events or ripping off other writers you mean classic, then yeah, Shakey's your boy." Grabbing a Tupperware container of roast beef, he waved it above his head. "You hungry?"

"No, thanks. Got any juice?"

"Got a bottle of Sunny D."

"That'll do! But don't think it will make my mood any sunnier," she chided gently. "You're being way too hard on the Bard. Regardless of his writing techniques, his stories are timeless. Love, revenge, miscommunication—all classic themes that authors are still working with today."

Jughead poured a glass of juice for each of them, delivering Betty's glass before shoving the leftover roast in the microwave. He was always grateful when it was his turn to work with Betty on a class project (she insisted on alternating between him and Archie), but a part of him was wishing he'd gone solo. While Shakespeare had a few intriguing plays he could at least enjoy dissecting, their teacher's options were Romeo and Juliet, The Taming of the Shrew and Hamlet. Sexism, rampant sexism and an alright play.

Betty, on the other hand, adored the tale of Fair Verona, volunteering daily to read Juliet's parts. Mercifully, her ability to cleanly read the lines in perfect iambic pentameter made it less of a chore to listen to than when Ginger was given a turn. Jughead typically offered to read Mercutio to Archie's Romeo, or pleaded to read the Nurse's lines as a second choice. Those two characters knew the score, he thought with a smirk.

A commotion in the back of the trailer caught his attention. His snack abandoned, he edged around the corner and was promptly slammed into by a skinny girl with her long jet-black hair woven in a French braid. She giggled loudly as he picked her up and swung her in a circle.

"Where do you think you're going, Jellybean?"

"Put me down, Jug!" she squealed, flailing her legs.

"Turn you upside down? Okay!"

As his sister protested, he dipped her backwards, her head nearly touching the floor. Her hands shot out to support herself and she shrieked with joy as Jughead held her in a perfect headstand.

"Hold it… hold it…."

"My head is full of blood!" Jellybean announced with a giggle.

From the back bedroom came a warm, albeit exhausted voice: "Jughead Jones, do not make your sister puke! She has a birthday party to go to!"

"Fine! Sorry, Jelly, down you go."

Carefully, he guided her back to her feet, steadying her as vertigo hit. Betty cheered for her, declaring her ready for the Olympics. Realizing her brother had company, Jellybean yanked away from her brother and ran to Betty's side. The blonde's arms opened in time to catch an eight year-old on a mission for hugs.

"Betty! Betty, you've been gone for DAYS!"

"I have! How dare I?" Tugging Jellybean onto her lap, Betty beamed. "So, what have you been learning at school? Tell me everything."

The microwave chimed and Jughead retrieved his snack slash first dinner. Fork in hand, he took a bite, listening to his sister ramble about growing a plant in a Styrofoam cup and mastering fractions. Betty's interest was genuine, her eyes widening as his sister recounted feeding a mouse to the classroom pet: a snake.

"You're not afraid of the snake?"

Jellybean laughed, reaching for Betty's juice. "No, silly. Snakes are loyal and only bother you if you bother them. Daddy said so."

"Well, your Daddy is super smart and you are going to get tickled if you don't stop swiping my Sunny D!" Betty warned, winking at Jughead.

"Noooooooo!"

Setting down the juice cup, Jellybean slid off of the chair and rushed to greet her mother. Gladys was dressed in her usual tank top and jeans, her hair tied up in a careful knot atop her head. Pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead, she reached for a gift bag on the sofa.

"We shouldn't be too late, maybe seven? Oh! Hello, Betty."

"Hey, Mrs. Jones. Don't worry, he'll have his homework done, teeth brushed—"

"You're not my babysitter," Jughead grumbled.

"You can always use someone to look after you, Forsythe," his mother rebuked him softly. "See you soon."

Jellybean rushed out the door, her sandals clomping on the steps as she yelled out over her shoulder. "Bye, Jug! Bye, Betty!"

As the screen door shut, Jughead relaxed. He loved his family dearly, but with his father's moodiness, the vibe at home could shift fast. Betty didn't need to see that.

"So…" Betty pulled out her Shakespeare books, reaching for The Taming of the Shrew first. "I don't like this one because it's misogynistic garbage, but what do you have against Romeo and Juliet and Hamlet?"

"This could get ugly, Miss Judy Blume."

"Bring it," she challenged him.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Jughead snorted. "Alright. First of all, I don't hate Hamlet. It's the only tolerable play of the three, mainly because it deals with legitimate issues and the drama isn't total BS. The guy's dad dies and grief is hard enough, especially when you're away at school and don't get any closure. On top of that, his mom marries his uncle right away and the whole city is talking smack about her, Hamlet included. Then he goes insane trying to prove his uncle is a killer and in the process, kills his girlfriend's dad, drives her to suicide and then dies because her brother is a cowardly shit. If anyone deserves to be dressed all in black and complaining about life, it's Hamlet."

"Given your commentary, I'm assuming you don't think Romeo and Juliet has substance?" Betty queried.

Jughead laughed. "Are you kidding me? Romeo is literally in love with some other girl until he catches sight of a hottie, whereupon he immediately changes his mind and marries Juliet. Juliet is so caught up in this whirlwind romance that she fakes her death to run off with him and gets the idiot killed." Taking a long swig of juice, Jughead rolled his eyes. "I believe in attraction at first sight, but love? Come on! They don't even know each other."

Leaning forward in her chair, Betty smirks. "Oh Jughead, your superficial analysis is embarrassing. Why am I working with you?"

"Because Archie keeps pronouncing dost as 'doo-est' for reasons I'll never understand." Sitting down across the table from her, he gestured for her to continue. "Enlighten me, then."

"The reason that Romeo and Juliet are so eager to marry is the arranged marriage she's being forced into by her father. She's fourteen and being married off to a stranger in his twenties because daddy considers her property. Of course she's willing to risk death to escape! The guy she loves is a nobleman, but their parents have a petty ongoing spat. She has no interest in Paris the turd."

Jughead frowns. He'd forgotten that twinkle of feminist rebellion.

"And as for your boy Hamlet, instead of confiding in his girlfriend about his uncle and his plan, he shuts her out, drives her away with cruelty and tells her she was just a lay. Highly problematic and tragic, because the reality is they love each other, but their families have torn them apart," Betty concluded.

"Alright, Cooper. You've made a valid point," he conceded reluctantly. "You've also presented the working version of a thesis statement, so thanks for doing the heavy lifting, partner!"

Betty reached for her notebook, flipping through the pages to her careful notes on the assignment at hand. "Hmm, she didn't restrict us from focusing on multiple plays! I love it."

"I still insist the moral of Romeo and Juliet is 'Don't hang out with priests who dabble in lethal drugs.'"

"Or maybe don't trust Elizabethan Fedex with the news of your fake death plan?" Betty countered, chuckling quietly.

"Miscommunication… That is a common thread, isn't it?" Jughead mused. "So much of the plot in each play depends on what people don't know, hear too late, or hear incorrectly."

"Yes!" Betty's pen scribbled furiously as she took notes. "Because really, how much heartache could be avoided if these couples would just tell each other everything? Their feelings, their fears?"

She paused, those brilliant green orbs casting their spell upon him. He was lost again, stung by the secret truth in her words. If only I could tell her how I feel… or if she could feel it too, tell me first

"Juggie?"

"Hmm? Yeah, no, that's perfect. This presentation is going to obliterate the competition."

"Of course it will. We're working together, and we're awesome. Now, let's get outlining…"


Now

He was sprawled out on her pastel pink blanket with a familiar text when she emerged from the bathroom. Hair damp, her t-shirt sticking to her skin, no make-up—she was a vision. He sat the book down, far more interested in an angelic woman haloed in early morning light.

"Whatcha reading?" Betty asked.

Holding up her copy of Romeo and Juliet, Jughead shrugged. "Wanted to see if I hated it any less now that I'm smitten with you."

Betty's eyes twinkled as she crossed the room. "Oh, really? And the verdict is?"

He tossed the book aside with a look of disgust. "These two have no idea what love is."

His arm snaked around her waist, tugging her onto the bed in a flurry of limbs and frantic kisses. They didn't have much time alone—Polly and her mother were shopping for road snacks for their trip to Manhattan, having reluctantly dropped Cheryl off at Thornhill—but Jughead was hardly about to waste the opportunity. And, as Betty swung her leg over his hips and straddled him, it became clear that they were very much in agreement. Leaning down, wet hair draped along his cheek, she rotated her hips and kissed him hard. The friction elicited a groan of need as his hands slid beneath her shirt to cup her firm breasts.

"See?' he murmured, breaking off the kiss. "Our bedroom time is so much more fun than theirs."

"We could make it hotter," she murmured before sinking her teeth into his shoulder.

"How long do you figure we got?"

"At least ten, maybe twenty minutes more. And Polly will call me when they're around the corner," she replied with a wink.

"Goddamn, I love your brain," Jughead growled.

His hands seized the hem of her flimsy cotton tee, tugging it over her head and dropping it on the plush pink carpet. The delicate lace masquerading as a bra sent a shiver of sinful delight down his spine. He buried his face in her cleavage, earning a purr of satisfaction as his open-mouthed kisses roamed her perfect curves. Her hands shoved aside his beanie, fisting in his hair as her centre pressed against his groin.

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

"Not until Polly calls," he promised.

Tasting and teasing, hands roaming, they explored each other eagerly. Somehow, his t-shirt hit the ceiling. Fingers danced along his chest and down his jeans and oh my fucking God, she'd taken hold of him unexpectedly and it was all he could do not to embarrass himself. His breath hitched as he retaliated with a wandering hand of his own, earning a shuddering gasp.

"This okay?"

"Don't you even think of stopping," she hissed.

"I'll take that as a yes," he teased, biting her lip gently as he continued to explore this incredibly alluring new territory she'd welcomed him to.

He couldn't speak for himself—couldn't speak, period, as Betty's focus returned to demonstrating her manual dexterity through his boxers—but he was moments from falling over the edge when the torturous sound of Betty's ringtone cut through the room. His girlfriend groaned at the warning bell, planting a hurried kiss upon his lips before scrambling for her shirt.

"To be continued?" she panted.

"Yes, please!"

Recognizing his jeans did nothing to hide his arousal, he snatched his shirt from the floor and hurried to the bathroom down the hall. As he debated whether to finish things off or wait for his problem to dissipate, he heard Betty greet her mother and sister as if she hadn't been seconds away from getting him off just now… and now, all he could think about was Betty straddling him.

Yeah, this wasn't going away anytime soon, he quickly realized. Before Mama Cooper could grow suspicious, he closed his eyes and relieved his frustration in record time.


The inner circle spent the afternoon at the Andrews home, taking advantage of Fred's decision to put in overtime for a little private conversation. Veronica had arrived bearing pizza and wings, presumably the proverbial spoon of sugar to make her latest discoveries more palatable.

"I took advantage of Daddy's late nights this week and broke into his study," she explained, setting aside her half-eaten pizza. "I was able to find a few new pieces of the puzzle, none of them good."

Archie's hand settled on her knee, squeezing reassuringly. "It's okay, Ronnie. We're here for you."

Slowly, the raven-haired beauty listed off what she'd found. For starters, her father was hoping to build a private prison and housing for its staff. The sheer scope of the project led her to believe he would need far more land than SoDale and the Blossom property combined. Remembering her drive through the Southside with Jughead, she thought of the Whyte Wyrm and Sunnyside Park as viable properties he'd pursue, although Southside High was smack in the middle of it all. A little sleuthing through her mother's laptop affirmed her theory—and sadly, her mother's complicity.

"The Whyte Wyrm is struggling financially. The current lease on the land is set to expire in six months, and the projected increase will bankrupt the owner in maybe another six," Veronica explained sadly. "The right offer could definitely be persuasive. And once Daddy has the building, acquiring the land is easy."

"Who owns the land beneath it?" Betty asked.

"Junkyard Steve. I seriously doubt it'll take much for my father to cut the right check to sway him."

"Steve would probably flip it for a year's worth of beer," Jughead grumbled, pushing his plate away. "And there goes my appetite."

"There's one more thing," Veronica announced reluctantly. "The reason I've had so much freedom to snoop these last few days? My parents have been entertaining their old friends from Montreal."

Jughead sunk back in his chair, equally stunned and unsurprised by this revelation. "And it all comes back to the heroin."

"Last year, when my mother pleaded with me to testify on my father's behalf, I hesitated. You remember, B?"

Betty nodded. "Of course I do. That was when Ethel's dad ended up in the hospital."

Swiping at her eyes, the troubled Latina sighed. "I didn't want to defend him, but he implied bad things could come out about my mother if I didn't. At the time, it seemed like a bluff, but I didn't want to risk it. But now, I see she's tied up in it too. She may not be the mastermind, but she's definitely happy to play along. I wish I never helped him get out of that prison cell!"

"Ronnie, c'mere," Archie urged her, pulling her closer. "Shh, it's okay. You were manipulated. You love your mom."

"We're not our parents," Betty assured her, glancing at Jughead. "Except maybe Archie."

"Betty's right," Jughead agreed. "Your dad's a bastard for using you to get out of jail."

"He's going to destroy the Southside, Jughead. We have to do something," Veronica pleaded.

Tugging his beanie down, Jughead reached for his plate. "And we will. We know the endgame. All we have to do is find a way to either reveal Hiram's true plans, or block them. And for that, I need brain fuel."

His friends laughed quietly, the comforting familiarity of a Jones eating more than the average human soothing their troubled spirits. Jughead quietly ruminated on his mental map of the Southside, studying each block adjacent to the SoDale project. The Wyrm. The junkyard. Southside High. Sunnyside. Places that were integral to his childhood, all merely cannon fodder for Hiram Lodge. It made his limbs twitch with rage.

Did Hiram decide that the best way to control Southside's real estate was seizing control of the drug trade in Riverdale? Did he force Blossom's hand by orchestrating the kidnapping of Jason? And if he now controlled the drugs flooding the schools, per the Mayor's press conference, what advantage did it give him?

"You okay, Jug?" Betty whispered.

"I'm fine," he lied.

"You're not, but we'll talk later," she replied as her phone chirped beside her. "Wait… Turn on the TV!"

Archie scrambled for the remote as Betty directed him to the local news. On screen stood Mayor McCoy, with Sheriff Keller at her side.

"… a meth lab. The damage done to the integrity of the building cannot be overstated. Given that Riverdale High is not at capacity, the decision has been made for the safety of our children."

"What the hell?" Archie muttered.

Veronica's eyes widened. "Daddy. It's started."

The press conference continued as a ticker scrolled across the screen: Southside High condemned. Students to transfer to Riverdale High effective Monday.

Betty stepped into the kitchen, speaking in hushed tones on her cell phone. Mayor McCoy's empty promises of harmony and an easy transition reeked of political posturing, but Jughead was more concerned with his distraught girlfriend. He rose quickly, placing his arm around her as she mumbled various words of agreement to the caller.

"Betts?"

"Thank you. I've gotta go."

Noticing Betty's dramatic shift in demeanor, Archie muted the TV. "Betty, what is it?"

"It's Chuck." Drawing a deep breath, she leaned into Jughead's embrace. "He's taking a plea deal. I... I won't have to testify."

"That's good, right?" Veronica asked nervously.

Betty nodded, forcing a half-smile. "It is. I'm sorry, I know I seem upset, but… I guess I've spent so much time worrying about it, worrying about seeing him again in town, that I can't believe it's over."

Jughead led her back to the sofa, urging her to sit down. "What's the deal?"

"Two years' probation, an anger management program, 200 hours of community service explaining domestic violence to other teens and a protection order, binding for the course of his probation." Glancing at the TV, Betty's eyes widened. "He has to leave town, or be home schooled."

"At least something good came of this mess!" Veronica exclaimed, reaching for her Diet Coke.

"The timing of this also works perfectly," Jughead mused. "Monday morning, the students of Southside High will be shuttled into Riverdale High. If this town ever needed your speech, Betty, it's now."

Forcing a brave smile, Betty shrugged. "I'll see what I can do, Mr. Jones."


Dressed in a sleeveless pink blouse with ruffled trim, her hair cascading in looping waves, Betty was breathtaking.

"Wear your hair down forever," Jughead murmured huskily as Betty paced backstage.

"Betty's ponytail is iconic and beyond reproach," Kevin Keller chastised as he hurried by, clipboard in hand.

"I am not criticizing the ponytail!" Jughead protested. "Just… wow."

"But if I wear it down every day, I won't have the pleasure of this reaction," she teased. "Besides, curling it takes forever and I just do not give enough of a damn to put that effort in every morning."

The sound of applause signalled the opening remarks of the Jubilee, meaning Betty would be called to the stage in a few minutes. Reaching for her cue cards, Betty took a deep breath, holding it briefly before releasing it.

"You should head out there, Juggie."

"Alright. You're going to be amazing, Betts. Just be yourself."

"That easy, huh?"

"You've got me wrapped around your finger, don't you?"

With one last kiss, he slipped away, rounding the auditorium and stepping just inside the rear entrance. A quick scan of the seating revealed no readily accessible chairs. No matter, standing suited him just fine. It gave him the perfect vantage point for people watching.

"And now, please welcome Riverdale High's Betty Cooper with opening remarks."

The Mayor stepped aside, her practiced smile in place as she shook Betty's hand. The blonde teen smiled, equally poised. Jughead smirked. McCoy had no idea what she was in for. Granted, he only had a hint of it. Betty had kept her final speech hidden from everyone. But he knew his girlfriend well enough to know she'd take at least one shot at the Mayor's leadership tonight.

Stepping up to the podium, Betty adjusted the mic and laid her cue cards down. "Thank you, Mayor McCoy, for inviting me to speak on an important day. Riverdale's anniversary. And what defines Riverdale? Its people. You, me, our neighbours and friends."

Gesturing to Archie and Veronica, who'd opted to sit upfront, Betty smiled. "Archie Andrews is Riverdale." The crowd applauded enthusiastically for the local football star and sometime musician. "A kind friend, a star athlete, a loyal son. Kevin Keller is Riverdale," she continued, gesturing backstage. "He's the one who ensures so many local events are organized, on time and perfectly lit."

Betty chuckled softly to herself as Kevin called out from backstage: "You forgot the perfect costumes for the spring play!"

The crowd laughed as Betty took a sip of water before continuing. "Veronica Lodge is Riverdale. She is, unquestionably, the person you want on your side in a difficult time. She will always have your back, like a good neighbour should.

"But you know who else is Riverdale? FP Jones, who were all so quick to judge and blame for Jason's murder, so much so he simply accepted your assumptions."

Jughead nodded along as the crowd murmured nervously, sensing the point of Betty's speech. What he did not expect, however, was the next sentence she spoke.

"Jughead Jones is Riverdale, the very heart and soul of it," she told the crowd, glancing in his direction. "Without him, Jason's murder never would have been solved. Mayor McCoy would have you give Archie and I the credit, but Jughead devoted himself to the truth, and he found it. And yet, how do we thank him? By relegating him to the shadows, like we do with any truth that is too ugly for us. The truth being that Clifford Blossom killed his son, and yet, he is also Riverdale."

Glancing down at her cards, Betty scooped them up in her hands. She tore them neatly in half, tossing the pieces onto the stage.

"That is what our town is right now: divided into factions. Two towns within a town, constantly assuming the worst of each other. But we're one town," Betty insisted, scanning the crowd. "We are all Riverdale. And with the tragic loss of Southside High, the youth of this town will be united. We will learn together, grow together, make new friends. Because that's what Riverdale was founded on, wasn't it? Separate families choosing to embrace each other's differences to build a community."

Jughead's jaw fell open as Betty tossed her hair back, studying the anxious crowd before her. She'd called out the entire town, suggesting they grow up. It was bold and heartfelt. But were they listening?

"Riverdale's at a crossroads. If we don't face the reality of who and what we are, if we keep lying to ourselves and keeping secrets from each other, then what happened to Jason could happen again. Or, God forbid, something even worse. Riverdale must do better. We must do better."

The silence in the auditorium was violent, a sucker punch to the gut. Betty stepped back nervously, her eyes finding him in the crowd. Without hesitation, Jughead began to applaud loudly. The Coopers popped out of their seats to join him, then Archie and Veronica. Like a wave, the sound swelled until it thundered in Jughead's chest. With a small nod, Betty slipped backstage, pushing past the Mayor without a backward glance.

Kevin announced a short pause as the Pussycats set up for their featured performance, but Jughead slipped away, meeting Betty outside. She was shivering, having forgotten her coat inside, but her cheeks were equally flushed with excitement.

"Well?"

Jughead threw his arms around her, holding her tight. "That was brilliant, Betts. Except for that momentary lapse in reason where you went on about some loser kid being the heart of this town," he joked, earning a poke in the ribs.

"I meant every word."

"Also, I personally think of myself more as the liver of Riverdale, if we're going to get anatomical."

Betty's hands seized the collar of his coat, yanking him closer as her lips crashed into his. "Take the damn compliment, Juggie," she murmured. Pulling back, she glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "Polly, Mom, Dad!"

The Coopers had joined them in the crisp evening air, each congratulating Betty in turn. Alice and Hal seemed content in each other's company, clearly in an "on again" phase. With hugs and praise exchanged, Alice Cooper's attention turned curiously to him.

"Jughead, Betty has told me of your predicament."

"My what?"

"Archie told me," Betty blurted out quickly. "About what social services said. Don't be mad at him. He let it slip. You know he's a terrible liar."

"Oh." Damn it. "Um, yeah. I'm expecting the placement call Monday."

Alice frowned, tossing her hair back. "Well, even if Southside High were not abruptly shuttered this afternoon, we feel it would be irresponsible for you to be uprooted from everything familiar to you. We also know what a tremendous force of good you've been in Betty's life."

Hal stepped forward, smiling warmly. "Jughead, we'd like to volunteer to be your guardians. You'd come and live at our house, and stay in familiar surroundings."

"In separate bedrooms, of course!" Alice chimed in. "We'll convert the basement to a room for Polly and move you in upstairs."

Betty was speechless and Jughead was faring no better. While he and Alice had never completely seen eye to eye, their shared love of Betty had seemingly built a bridge of understanding.

"Mom, Dad… I mean, would social services really approve of that?" Betty asked.

"But of course!" Alice replied confidently. "We're a perfect family. And if they don't like it, Fred is conveniently situated next door. We would co-sponsor with him."

"Thank you," Jughead blurted out, reeling from their offer.

"It's the least we can do," Alice assured him. "Now, come along. That beautiful speech calls for a milkshake!"


By Sunday afternoon, it was official. Jughead Jones was in the foster care of Alice and Hal Cooper, albeit with one amendment: that Jughead reside in the basement apartment, to encourage further propriety, and that the two of them never spend a night alone in the house. Alice signed off immediately, reminding the case worker that Fred would happily host Jughead for sleepovers if needed.

Jughead had his family—his chosen family. It wouldn't be ripped away from him.

To celebrate, Betty suggested a Sunday evening dinner in her backyard, given her parents' absence. The irony of it all, Jughead noted: his first night as a ward of the Coopers, they would be out of town. Having scoured the file provided by Cheryl and verifying the contents within, the Coopers were escorting Polly to Manhattan in pursuit of her children. With assurances that Jughead would spend the night at Archie's, the trio had piled into Hal's car and headed for the highway.

Betty and Jughead had trekked out to Sunnyside Park to gather Jughead's clothing and critical belongings. Empty backpacks in tow, they'd made quick work of the task, loading clothes, toiletries and a family photo album in record time.

"Is this really all you need?" Betty asked.

Scanning the room, Jughead paused. "I'll definitely need to come back for that."

The turntable, speakers and the crates of records nestled beneath it. There wasn't a hell of a lot in the trailer worth keeping, but music was priceless. His childhood memories were framed by song, tied to the albums his parents played. Studying the modest stereo system, Betty crouched down and began disconnecting wires in haste.

"Betts, I said we could come back."

"And I say we'll take a cab back to my place and bring them now," she countered. "Besides, it'll be nice to have music to listen to in the basement. Grab the crates and set them at the door."

Knowing better than to argue with a determined Betty Cooper, Jughead complied. Propping the screen door open, he spotted a trio of teens approaching the steps.

"We have company," he called out.

"Good or bad?" Betty hissed.

"Good," he decided.

Jughead greeted their unexpected visitors with a nod. Toni, Sweet Pea and Fangs hovered at the bottom of the steps, noticing the crates and backpacks on the floor. He noticed a baseball bat in Fangs' hand, loosely held by his side.

"You going somewhere, Jones?" Sweet Pea asked.

"Consider me officially fostered," he replied, thrusting his hands inside his pockets. "What brings you by?"

"Neighbourhood watch," Fangs quipped, loosening his grip on the bat.

"Heard all the noise, wanted to make sure you weren't getting jacked," Toni clarified, leaning on the handrail. "So, who'd they place you with? Old Lady Mackenzie? That weird couple with the three terriers, what's her name… Fangs, help?"

"Oh! You mean the Parkers? Yeah, they're nice, but they push those dogs in carriages."

"Actually, social services has allowed me to stay with the Coopers." At the chorus of titters, Jughead smirked. "I know, we're just as surprised as you are."

"Money talks," Toni mused. "So you're ditching your Southside roots altogether now, huh?"

"He's not ditching anything," Betty chimed in, peering over his shoulder. "Hey, Toni! How are you?"

"Good, considering my school's been shut down as a meth lab and your jocks are already suggesting we're not welcome."

"What?" Betty edged forward, seething. "You tell me who's being a jerk and I will handle them."

"What's Blondie gonna do about it?" Sweet Pea scoffed.

"Oh, I don't know, considering Blondie's best friends include the cheerleading captain and a star football player, I'm sure I can arrange something," Betty retorted. "And if that doesn't work, Jughead tells me stuffing asshole jocks in garbage cans is always a worthwhile option."

Sweet Pea smirked, running a hand through his hair. "You got fire. Must be why he likes you."

"Definitely on the list of reasons," Jughead agreed.

"You three up for burgers?" Betty asked. "We're having a get together at my place, just a few friends. You're more than welcome."

The Serpent teens eyed her suspiciously, waiting for the punchline that never came. Nominating herself as their leader, Toni shrugged her shoulders and nodded.

"I think we all like free food. But are your neighbours gonna be cool with bikers in your backyard?"

"This town needs to get over its drama," Betty griped. "I could not give less of a damn what the snobbier Northsiders think. You're friends of Jughead. You're friends of mine."

Satisfied with her response, Toni grinned. "Well, in that case, we'll follow you out! Let's grab our bikes."

As the trio headed down the road to retrieve their motorcycles, Jughead kissed Betty's cheek. "You didn't have to do that."

Betty tilted her head askance. "Do what? Invite our new classmates to hang out? Welcome someone who helped us on a rough night? Jughead, it's not charity. I want to get to know them."

"I know… It's the fact that it's not charity that makes you so incredible."

Her soft hands cupped his face, studying him intently. "Someday, you'll stop expecting the worst of people. Expecting pity. You'll just know that you are important and belong. Believe me, Juggie."

Lost in the porcelain grace of her gaze, he found himself smiling in spite of himself. He was starting to believe her.


"Well, I'd say that was a success!" Betty called out from the kitchen.

Gathering up the last of the empty soda cans, Jughead deposited them on the centre island to await a rinsing. "Define success."

Jerking her thumb in the direction of the Andrews home, she smirked. "Oh, I don't know. I'd say Archie and Fangs practicing their free throws for basketball tryouts was definitely encouraging, given their awkward introduction."

"That may have been more about Veronica's 'man-candy' comments about Fangs," he mused, tucking away the extra paper plates beneath the counter. "But yeah, Archie came around fast."

"What time do you have to be over there, anyway?"

"Fred said your mom's calling at eleven, so just before that."

Betty's eyes skirted the microwave, noting the 9:23 on the display. "Recycling can definitely wait, then." Betty leaned against the fridge, shaking her head in disbelief. "Toni and Cheryl…"

"Have to admit, I never saw that coming. Especially after the icy introduction."

Betty's eyes twinkled. "So, I wasn't just imagining the flirting between them after dinner?"

"Oh my god, they were as subtle as a sledgehammer! Did you know?"

"Which part: that Toni's bisexual or that Cheryl is an as-yet unspecified sexuality that is not hetero? Neither! Although, there was this thing that happened when Cheryl was in junior high. She and this girl Heather were really close friends and then suddenly, Heather left town. No goodbyes, no warning. Even Cheryl seemed surprised by it. Huh."

"What, Betts?"

"Well, that's when Cheryl went from kind of snobby to Cheryl Bombshell, super bitch." Betty's expression softened. "Maybe Cheryl's been lashing out because she's never been allowed to just be herself."

"Well, if there's anything Toni believes in, it's being yourself," Jughead replied. "I haven't spent much time with her over the years, but she's always dressed differently, but with pride. It's not about getting attention, but just her style. Clearly, opposites attract." Jughead approached the svelte blonde, admiring her silky blue sleeveless blouse and tight black jeans. "On a more serious note, thank you for this. And for not having our entire class show up this time," he gently teased.

"Thank you for indulging me. After the last few weeks, I just really wanted to have a few hours of teenage normalcy. A little calm in the eye of the storm." Her fingers grazed the collar of his black plaid button down, tugging him closer. "Because the fight's not over yet, Jughead. I'm not giving up on your dad. Hell no. He's getting out of there, as soon as I can pull the town's head out of its ass."

Maybe it was the way the soft lighting of the kitchen made her golden hair shimmer. Maybe it was the peace that a few hours of laughter and friends had instilled within him. It absolutely was the conviction in her voice as she promised to stand by his father until justice was done, any consequences to herself be damned. Overwhelmed by her strength and heart, Jughead's own heart tumbled to the ground at her feet in offering.

"And that is why I love you."

Her emerald eyes widened in surprise, mirrors of his own. Oh, shit. He'd said it. The words he'd been choking on for years as he dismissed himself as unworthy of her, dismissed the utter absurdity that he would ever be able to give her all that an earthbound angel should possess. And even as he wondered if he should take them back, he immediately ignored his insecurities. For if there was one thing Betty had been telling him for years, it was that he was a good person, worthy of kindness and yes, love.

Swallowing hard, his mouth chalky with fear, he met her gaze and doubled down: "I love you, Betty Cooper."

Her pale pink lips parted, exhaling a soft laugh. "Jughead Jones, I love you."

He hesitated briefly, convinced he'd hallucinated her declaration. Betty took advantage of his bewilderment, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him hard. He laughed into her mouth as their tongues tangled in a frenzy of taste and touch.

She loved him back. Betty Cooper, the girl he'd measured all others against, was in love with him.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, hoisting her onto the kitchen island. Betty giggled in surprise, Jughead laughing too as several cans hit the floor in his haste. His mouth found the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping and sucking as she tilted her head to offer him access. His beanie was plucked from his head and tossed aside, her hands fisting in his hair.

"Blinds closed?" he murmured.

"Yes, thank god!"

Sliding his arms out of his button down, he grinned. "Good. Because I have an idea, if you're interested."

Leaning close, he whispered what had been a fantasy of his ever since he and Archie had come over to visit in freshman year and found Betty perched on the island, reading a magazine in a bikini while waiting for microwave popcorn. And while Betty flushed crimson, she eagerly nodded her approval, reached for the hem of her blouse and tugged it over her head without a second thought. Clothes fell to the cool tile beneath them until Betty was perched on that damn counter, her white lace bra and panties scarcely covering her curves.

"You're incredible. Astounding. Breathtaking," he rambled, drinking in the sight.

"If you were breathless, you'd stop talking," she demurred.

Betty Cooper was a smart woman. So Jughead stopped talking, and started kissing her. All of her. Collarbones, shoulders, the peaked nipples straining their lacy confines. Her toned stomach, the soft curve of her hips, her thighs. And when her cries of his name turned to pleas, he parted her delicate thighs and found a new favourite place to kiss her.

Time lost meaning for Jughead, his world reduced to the sounds of her pleasure, the feel of her bare skin against his, his aching need for more of her. Always more of her. He'd followed her up the stairs to her bedroom at some point, kissing and touching with each step. They were symbiotic, each guiding the other, irrevocably bound to serve each other's needs. Her skin was hot as she pulled him to the mattress, wrapping her thighs around his waist. He groaned at the contact as she pressed hard against his groin, rolling her hips higher and amping up the friction.

"Juggie, I want you. All of you," she demanded.

"I want you, too," he whispered huskily. "Do you have any—"

"Bedside table," she interrupted. "Veronica smuggled me some contraband."

"Veronica, huh?"

Betty's smile was mesmerizing. "She felt tonight was a golden opportunity, and I agreed. To be continued, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Reaching for the strip of foil packets in the drawer, he set them aside to kiss her once more. "You sure, Betts?"

Her fingertips ran along his ribs, dancing in lazy figure eights. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you."

He leaned forward, forehead resting gently on hers. "I love you so much. You're it for me, Betty. You're all I've ever wanted."

"I'm yours."

In the quiet darkness of her room, where he'd broken her heart by leaving for Toledo, where he'd gathered its pieces to heal her by candlelight just weeks ago, their bodies echoed their hearts and merged into one.

He hadn't been prepared for how it would change him to give himself over completely, to surrender to a rhythm born of instinct as hands gripped and mouths clumsily met. How his heart would beat wildly against his ribcage, wanting to be with her, be hers altogether. How her eyes would darken like forest pines as she whispered that she was close, she was so close, don't stop. How the formless cries spilling from her lips would drive him over the edge until he was falling, falling without end, falling into her arms, happy to die in them as he forgot how to breathe.

He was hers, now. Forever.

Their sweaty bodies clung to each other in climax, panting for air in the shadows. Betty's hair was sprawled across the pillow, a messy halo of gold as he reluctantly pulled away to collapse on the pillow beside her.

"God," she murmured.

"Thank you," he quipped.

Betty giggled softly, curving her body against his. "You should be thankful."

"I am." He was serious now, tilting her chin and drawing her gaze to his. "I'm so thankful for you."

"It's mutual." Her fingers toyed with his messy curls. "We're going to be okay, Juggie. As long as we're together, we can get through anything," she murmured, kissing his cheek. "Can you see the clock?"

Glancing across the room, he grimaced. "Twenty minutes."

"Hmm. That sounds like enough time to shower…"

Caught off-guard, he turned to face her. "Shower?"

"You're not the only one with fantasies, Jughead Jones."

"Well, since you were so obliging with mine, it's really only fair that I am equally gracious…"

He was five minutes late arriving at the Andrews house that night. And despite the knowing glance from Fred as he informed Alice that Jughead was out of the bathroom now and could take the phone, he regretted nothing.


Ahh, much better, especially dusting off that deleted alternate scene. And yet, my shipper heart still wasn't satisfied.

Leave a review, let me know the hours I spend each week have made you smile, cry, or simply killed some time. And stick around, because we're jumping four years into the future for the epilogue, featuring appearances by FP, Jellybean, and Choni.