A/N: This was originally written as two separate chapters but I didn't like the flow when I broke them up and haven't come up with a better solution so it's a massively long one. See you on the other side!

Jelly had been spending an increasing amount of time with the blonde from downstairs, and Jughead found himself more and more thankful for Betty Cooper every day that passed.

Jelly had always been a shifty, fidgety, unsettled sort of kid who needed to be working on something most of the time, and adulthood hadn't changed that. Her part time job wasn't enough to use up the energy that frizzled under her surface, and even helping him out a couple times a week wasn't putting a dent in it. That usually meant that he would come home to an extremely chatty sister who couldn't sit still for more than five minutes at a time unless, he soon found, she was watching The Princess Bride.

Helping Betty with whatever she needed a hand with gave Jelly not only an extra outlet, but conveniently gave Jughead an occasional chunk of time at the apartment alone. It wasn't that Jelly was a burden; it was more about the fact that Jughead was used to spending a considerable amount of down time by himself. He was used to the semi-solitary life he'd lived with Archie.

The two had been friends forever, and both had been accepted to schools in New York. They'd lived together for the entire time, all through school. Archie was a fairly popular guy and found himself out a lot more than Jughead did, especially after girls started becoming a regular thing - and then specifically Veronica - hence Jughead's acquaintance with time alone.

Jelly, even though she worked part time, usually worked when he did, and so whenever he was home, so was she.

Jughead had been so busy with the logistics of finishing school, moving, and getting them as ready as possible for the baby, that he hadn't spent much time being able to write. His brain had been too occupied with other, more pressing problems, like damage deposits, how to maximize his shift schedule, and very recently, Betty Cooper.

And so he was grateful for a moment of silence, now.

With his feet propped up on the coffee table and his laptop perched comfortably on his thighs, Jughead opened a new word document and took a sip of coffee. Four pages of steady typing later, there was a knock at the door.

"Hi," Betty greeted him. Her hair was in a bun, and her flyaways were being held back by an athletic headband. She held a small vase filled with colourful flowers, none of which Jughead knew the names of.

"For me? You shouldn't have," Jughead said by way of returning her greeting, making sure his grin was obvious so she wouldn't think he was trying to be rude.

"Good thing I didn't, then," she responded in kind. "These are for JB. Is she home?"

"Uh, no," he answered, stepping back to allow her entry. "She picked up a shift at the coffee place. But thanks, I'm sure she'll like them."

Betty held it out for him to take, and he plucked the vase from her fingers.

"Where does one put flowers?" he questioned as he turned to walk back to the living room, more to himself than to her, but she provided an answer anyway, her feet following his.

"Wherever one wants, usually. Hey," she lowered her voice a little, and Jughead glanced back over his shoulder at her. "Are you sure you're okay giving me a ride to Veronica's Labour Day thing?"

Jughead laughed, setting the glass container down on the dining room table.

"Why would I not be okay with that?"

"I don't know. I'm just - making sure."

The hesitant, unsure lilt that he'd heard the day of her shower catastrophe was back, and he resisted the urge to frown.

"No, it's really okay, Betty. You're not an inconvenience."

Betty's eyes had always been wide and absurdly green, but as she stared up at him now, he could have sworn there was some sort of magnifying film between them. Her top and bottom lip touched briefly before she gave him a small smile in thanks. Jughead ignored the flip his stomach did as he realized he'd probably been staring too long, and looked away.

"I almost never want to go to these things," he said, hoping that the recovery was smooth.

"I think it'll be fun. Veronica's been really friendly." Betty smiled.

He hummed in acknowledgement, but left it at that.

Betty cast a glance over the room now that it had been unpacked and lived in a bit. The last time she was here, it had looked like a giant game of tetris with all the boxes everywhere. Jellybean had obviously had some time to kill; every bookshelf was full, pictures were hung on the walls, and it felt like people lived there. She spotted the laptop, his notebook, and the empty mug of coffee.

"I'm sorry," she started. "I interrupted your work."

When she looked back, she found him watching her, his hands in his pockets and a pair of suspenders dangling down near his knees instead of crossing over his back and laying over his shoulders.

"I was on a four-page streak," he informed her morosely, and her eyes widened with guilt. His expression cracked a half-second later. "I'm just kidding, Betty. Well, I was on a four-page streak, but I don't mind. And JB will surely not mind, because you brought her flowers."

Feeling the fresh heat on her cheeks, she turned back to the room.

"I don't think I ever asked what you do," she stated. "What do you write?"

"Well, I went to school for writing. I don't get paid to write. Yet."

"What would you like to get paid to write?"

"Fiction." There was a tone of such certainty in his voice, she looked up again. "I'd like to write fiction, but I'd also take writing for a paper or a magazine."

"Are you a Sports Section kind of guy?"

Betty was surprised by the genuine rumble of the laugh that came out of him at that.

"Definitely not."

The front door opened with no warning.

"Honey, I'm ho-ome," JB called down the hall, the lock clicking into place a second later. The black-dressed woman came to a stop when she saw them standing in the living room awkwardly. "Betty! What a nice surprise!"

"I just came by to drop off some flowers for you, to say thank you for helping me the other day," Betty offered hastily, pointing them out and giving JB a wide grin.

"You paid me with money, Betty. That's all the thanks I need." She laughed. "But they are pretty, thank you."

There was another beat of silence, and JB's eyes flicked to Jughead. Betty recognized the behaviour as sibling code, and suddenly felt out of place, like she was watching something she shouldn't.

"Well, I should go," she started.

"No, stay! I just got home."

"Oh - thank you, that's very nice, but I can't. I have a conference call and then I have to go try matching some lace," Betty answered.

"Oh, right," JB said, nodding. "Well, have fun, and good luck!"

Betty made sure to give her a hug on her way, and she waved to Jughead from the front door before ducking out.

"You have to wear white," Kevin said decisively, handing her another dress.

"It doesn't say that on the invite." Betty rolled her eyes but accepted the most recent garment anyway.

"It doesn't need to. It's Labour Day. It's the last day of white clothing. You can't waste it," her friend rebutted, as if it would be criminal not to wear white. His tone would have been more fitting if she had just told him she'd embezzled millions of dollars, or started forging counterfeit bills, or committed cold blooded murder.

"That rule was made up by some millionaires' wives over a hundred years ago, Kev."

Shopping wasn't her favourite activity, but she found herself browsing in Kevin's wake anyway, fingers walking over the hangers and running down fabrics that caught her eye.

"And yet, it's kept alive," the man rebutted.

"Only by people who care way more than I do," Betty half-heartedly grumbled.

"Look, you asked me for advice -"

"I did not ," Betty interjected. Kevin continued on as though she hadn't.

"- And so I'm helping. Here, try this one, too. So did you find out about the guys?"

Kevin Keller was a relentless force, on all fronts.

"Archie is dating Veronica," Betty answered, resisting the urge to sigh. This topic of conversation was starting to get on her nerves. But when Kevin locked his teeth around something, he didn't tend to let go very easily.

"That's the ginger one, right? I need to meet these people, it's so hard to keep this straight in my head."

"You don't have to. You could just let it go like a normal person." He fixed her with a look, and she tipped her chin up in exasperation. "Yes, Archie is the redhead."

Kevin added another dress to her pile without any comment on the garment itself.

"And Jughead?" he continued.

Single-minded menace.

"I don't know."

"Aren't you friends with his sister? And his best friend?" He was giving her another look.

"And?"

"Ask around, oh my god Betty. What is the point of having all these ins when you don't use any of them?"

"I really wish I had enough grace to wear heels and not fall flat on my face," Jelly announced with a grimace.

"I wouldn't be too concerned. Pol says fancy shoes and pregnancy never go well together, anyway. Her words, not mine."

The blonde had Jelly's pale violet hair in her hands and she was doing something - there were twisty motions and elbows held at unnatural angles during the process - but he had no idea what was going on over there.

"It's being pregnant, Jug, it does something really fucky to my hair and I don't know what it is and I don't know why , but I'm half a step from shaving it all off and I doubt Ronnie will be happily surprised if I show up bald."

He'd held up his hands at that, assuming no opinion on the unnaturally coloured rat's nest his sister had been sporting at the time, and instead, unlocked the door for Betty. It hadn't really occurred to Jughead that he might have to steel himself before opening the door at her knock, but...

Jughead kept typing away on his laptop, dressed and ready to get going to Archie and Veronica's Labour Day extravaganza. Betty had come up a half hour before, when Jelly couldn't get her hair to do what she wanted. He was entirely aware that keeping himself focused on typing was keeping him from being caught staring at the amount of leg Betty was showing. Or, maybe it wasn't the amount of leg, because he'd seen her in the stairwell in dresses on her way to events and he'd seen her in shorts on the way to the gym, and he'd thought they were nice everytime, in every iteration -

Maybe it was the shoes. Jughead really didn't get the draw of high heels, but these weren't high heels. They weren't super high, and they didn't look spindly. They were the type that was solid underneath the whole foot - a wedge, maybe?

That just reminded him of pizza, and his stomach grumbled.

But the added, angled height under her feet made her calves look -

Well.

He wasn't looking, so he didn't know. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

"What are you writing, Jug?" Betty asked, startling him into looking up at the two women hovering around the dining room table. JB was still seated, and Betty was standing behind her. Most of JB's hair seemed to be taken care of, and Betty was just sliding another hairpin into the back.

"Good luck getting an answer," JB mumbled back, flashing her eyes at Jughead in an obvious challenge. Despite his very honed better instincts, he felt the uncharacteristic rise to meet it.

"It's a think piece on foreign trade policies." Jelly's mouth dropped open, and Betty grinned from behind her. "Though it looks more like word vomit right now," he added, waving a disillusioned hand at his screen.

Betty left JB, brushing around the table to stand behind Jughead's spot on the couch, where she could see his mess of a document. Something lodged in his throat, and he resisted the vehement urge to snap the laptop shut and snark something in a cutting display of defensive self-protectionism.

"May I?" she asked, her voice close behind him.

He waved his hand at the screen again, tilting it back for her, and Betty leaned over the back of the couch to read from where it was perched on his lap. Jelly sat staring at Jughead, eyes burning into his, and he remained perfectly still while the blonde read his work in progress, his eyes never wavering from his sister's. It was a show of strength, sure, but it was also to keep him from indulging in the nervous gurgling in his stomach, the strange need to fidget, and the sudden warmth under his collar.

"Interesting. I see your point on the latest addendum," Betty commented a few long moments later, standing up again. Relief unclenched his innards, and he looked away from JB.

"May I?" Jelly asked, making a considerable effort to mimic Betty's tone, and pulling herself up from the table.

At that, Jughead drew the line.

"You may not. We have to go, anyway. We're going to be late."

"If you did Jellybean's hair, does that mean you dressed Jughead, too?" Veronica asked, delighted, and Betty flushed. "Because I have never seen him looking more handsome than right now. He never dresses up for my parties."

Jughead was dressed in dark jeans, a green button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a pair of navy suspenders in place. The beanie was still there, though his dark hair was swooped around under it, threatening to fall at a moment's notice. Betty saw her point, though she also thought he was handsome regardless of his attire. She thought he was just as handsome in the ratty clothes he wore while repainting at the apartment building, or sanding dry wall putty smooth, but that was a morsel of information she kept to herself.

The raven-haired beauty was ravishing in a pair of boldly-striped, wide-leg pants that sat high on her waist, with a matching white crop top baring a sliver of tanned midriff. Betty thought she looked like a supermodel. All the people milling around in the rooftop terrace were dressed in similar quality pieces, and Betty felt very thankful to Kevin for making her buy the nice white dress instead of the more casual one they had also been eyeing at the shop.

"No, that was all him," she responded, meeting Jughead's eye around JB and Archie hugging hello. "Right, Juggie?"

It slipped out.

Betty's eyes widened and she prepared herself to bury her head in embarrassment, but in an unexpected turn of events, Jughead's mouth quirked. The arrangement of his features made something warm spread inside her, encircling her lungs, and he held her gaze for a fraction of a second longer than she might have expected, considering.

"I dressed myself, thank you very much, Veronica. I am capable."

Veronica hummed thoughtfully in response, surveying him with single-minded focus through her dark lashes, and Betty saw the creep of pink on Jughead's neck. She felt something similar along her collarbones and behind her ears, so she cleared her throat.

"Oh, look, more guests," she pointed, hoping it wouldn't be too obvious to Veronica that she was trying to bail the pair of them out from under her suspicious eye. "Let's get a drink and leave Veronica to play hostess."

Leaving Veronica, JB and Archie to their own devices, Jughead and Betty started for the bar, but were both happy to stop at one of the side rails, the view overlooking the city breathtaking. The summer haze of hot days could be seen clearly, and Betty looked around in earnest. She'd never seen the city this high up before, not from the Upper East Side. Jughead bent down and leaned his forearms against the rail, looking out with her.

"Don't think for a second that would have worked if the 'guests' you mentioned hadn't been one of Veronica's father's old friends," he commented. Betty looked back to see Ronnie engulfing one of the men at the entrance in a big hug, and introducing him to Archie and JB.

"Noted," she muttered. "Uh, sorry - about the… Juggie."

"Not a big deal, Betts." He looked over at her from his hunched position, and she rocked back on her heels, holding onto the rail with both hands. Willing her flush to stay down, she turned her back on the view and leaned against the barrier instead. The sky above them was a clear blue, as far as the eye could see, which under the circumstances, was quite far. The noise of the city seemed so far away up there.

They fell into silence again, the party around them ebbing and flowing. Veronica's voice could be heard in unintelligible snippets, and Archie's laughter floated along on the summer breeze.

"They're good at that," Betty commented, watching them.

Jughead straightened and turned, leaning against the rail as she had, elbows braced against the top edge.

"Yeah, they are," he agreed. "I never thought Archie was one for this kind of stuff -" he motioned around them vaguely "- but he's actually really good at making Veronica look good, which she loves. Not that she even needs his help, really."

Betty nodded. She could see what he meant. Archie was a great compliment to Veronica. They fit together, personality-wise. Archie tempered Veronica in a way that Betty didn't know how to vocalize, not having known them long or well enough, and Veronica bolstered him in return. It was surprising, but genuine, and it made Betty want to capture the essence of them so that she could examine it closer, at a later date, and figure out what exactly it was that made true love true.

"I think your writing is pretty good," she blurted. Her goal had been to say something but she had been hoping for a bit more suavity.

"Thanks," Jughead replied after a moment. "You shouldn't really base your opinion on that one alone, though. It wasn't even fully assembled."

She got the distinct impression he was being self-deprecating and doubting his own talent. So, she took it in the opposite direction.

"I guess you'll just have to let me read more so I can form a well-rounded opinion."

Jughead opened his mouth, and closed it again. When she saw the twitch indicating another try at a comeback, a tinkling ring startled them both.

"Oh, shoot," Betty whispered, digging her phone out. "Oh, no. I have to get this, I'll be -"

She half-turned from Jughead, swiping to answer the call.

"Betty?"

"Hi, Ginger."

"Hi," the breathless voice on the other end began. "I have a situation."

"My coworker needs my help. I have to go," she sighed, for her part, looking fairly unhappy about having to leave the view. Her blonde hair shone in the sunlight, and her white dress set off the hint of a tan on her shoulders. If brains could snap pictures, his would have filled an album.

"Oh," Jughead said, caught off guard, "sure. Do you want me to take you?"

Immediately, he wasn't sure if that was something he should have offered, but apparently playing it cool wasn't something Jughead Jones did anymore. He didn't mind taking her, if it would help her fix a clearly problematic situation for a coworker.

"You don't even know how far away it is," she commented lightly, sending him a side-glance.

"How far is it?" he inquired, arching a brow, knowing there was a smug look on his face.

"Not far. I can cab. You should enjoy the party. Stay," she pressed, her fingertips touching the back of his wrist with a fleeting sensation of skin on warm skin.

"It won't take long," Jughead continued, forcing his eyes to look up from where she'd brushed him. "I'll be back before dinner, don't worry."

Betty regarded him silently for a moment, her eyes searching, skittering over his features.

"Alright," she acquiesced with the hint of a grin on her lips, turning on her heel. For a smaller-than-him human, she could move deceptively fast. "But if Veronica gets mad at me for taking you away from the party, it's on you."

"That hardly seems like a fair division of blame," he called, laughing, "but, deal."

He followed after her, looking anywhere but the backs of her legs.

They beat a hasty retreat to the Honda, and Betty directed him to a nearby building, not even ten blocks from where Ronnie's party was taking place, spending the whole seven minutes in the car apologizing between frantic text exchanges and four panicked phone calls that never seemed to take more than 30 seconds.

"Thank you again, Jughead," she said sincerely, turning in her seat to face him more. In that moment, he missed the nickname.

"It's no problem," he responded, light. "If you, uh, finish up quickly and want to come back to the party, text JB and I'll come get you."

"Oh, you don't have to be my chauffeur." She laughed. "I'll be fine."

"Well... do you at least have cab money, just in case?"

The sweet smile she gave him from the passenger seat was enough to melt polar ice caps, probably. There was something around her eyes, something different, something related to the molasses-slow smile spreading over her lips, and it tugged a peculiar feeling to the forefront of his mind.

"Yes, thank you for making sure." She squeezed his arm before popping the door open and climbing out delicately. In the process, Jughead was treated to a flash of her inner thighs and he looked away quickly. Betty shut the door and brushed the white fabric of her dress back into place as she stood on the pavement, leaning down to poke her head back through the open window. "Have a good time, in case I don't see you again tonight."

When she turned to dash into the nearest building, Jughead let out a slow breath, dragging his palms down over his face.

Three hours later, Betty emerged again, sweaty, tired, hungry, and in need of a drink. The night was warm, the buildings giving off the glowing heat of summer still, even though the sun was starting to sink in the sky, and the street had been thrown into shadow.

Should she go back to the party? She checked her watch. It was probably still going strong.

Despite her reasoning with herself about not being ready to date again, about not having the time - she found herself heading back in the direction of Veronica's party.

Juggie.

She hadn't even had a moment to stop and think since arriving to help Ginger, but her walk along Park Avenue gave her a chance to breathe. Fresh embarrassment tinged with something more started to bloom on her cheeks at the memory of the nickname that had just slipped out in casual company. The look he'd given her had not been one she'd been expecting at the outburst. She knew him to be somewhat quiet and reserved, and she would have assumed he'd be just as embarrassed by the pet name as she had been. But…

Instead, he'd given her that tiny, secret smile and lip quirk that had made her throat close momentarily, and a little Betts in return.

The doorman recognized her from earlier, when Jughead had hastily explained she had an emergency, but might be back later. He let her up, and the elevator ride was significantly more lonely than it had been the last time.

The sun was bright and blazing in the west, low in the sky. Windows all over the city were glaring, the rays catching and reflecting off the sheets of glass at every angle imaginable. There were still some people milling around the open patio, grouped around ficuses, gathered at the bar, lounging on the high-end outdoor furniture, but the number seemed to be dwindling by the minute.

Betty glanced around for any recognizable faces, pausing to claim a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. After a few minutes of searching, she spotted a familiar grey beanie perched on the head of someone sitting on one of the couches near an open fire pit.

"Hey." She announced her arrival, unsure of what to open with. "Are you single?" seemed too… gauche.

"Hey." Jughead glanced around. "You're back. How'd it go?"

"Well," she sighed, taking the spot next to him, careful to leave a good six inches between them to discourage any urges to touch him again. "One side of the family had some major food allergies that we were super clear about, but there was a mix up, of course, and so they weren't able to eat anything at the reception."

"I can't imagine a more horrible hell than a food allergy," he commented, rubbing his stomach and making her grin.

"They agreed." Betty raised her glass a fraction and tilted it in his direction before taking another sip. "Where's JB?"

"Oh, I sent her home in a cab earlier. She was dozing on this couch here so I figured…"

More people were leaving.

"But you stayed?"

"Evidently."

They watched as other guests said goodbye to each other, many trailing over to the elevators and glancing around for their hosts.

"Seems like it's winding down," Betty commented softly, looking away from him. The champagne bubbles were sliding around in her stomach, and she swore they were tingling along her skin in just the same fashion. "I should find Archie and Veronica, and thank them."

"Even though you were hardly here long at all?" Jughead teased. He set his own glass down - water, she noted - and held out a hand to pull her up.

"They were over here, last I saw." Jughead dropped her hand when she was standing, and turned to lead her over to one side of the terrace, a line of large potted ferns and more ficuses shielding their eyes from the setting sun. When he came to a sudden stop, Betty moved around to his side to see what had halted him.

She recognized the scene instantly.

Archie was bent, down on one knee, and gazing up at Veronica with a look of such complete and utter adoration that it brought tears to her eyes in an instant. Veronica was standing stock still, hands covering her mouth, with tears spilling down her cheeks at whatever words Archie had chosen to say in this moment.

"Oh no," Jughead breathed, throwing out an arm to stop her. "We should go."

" Oh no? What are you talking about? We should stay and congratulate them!" she whisper-hissed back, still watching them from around the greenery. Jughead's hand closed around her elbow and he tugged her back gently, retreating in the direction they had just come from.

"No, Betty, I know them. There's gonna be nakedness any second, and I'm begging you - I don't want to see any more of Archie and Veronica than I already have."

"What? I'm not done my champagne," Betty lamented, taking another sip. Jughead let her finish and plucked the flute from her hand, setting it down on the edge of one of the outdoor fire pits and resumed pulling her along behind him.

"They're a very open couple - c'mon, let's go."

Betty's giggles were making him shoot her exasperated glances, and it really wasn't helping the situation. The way his brow crinkled made the will to actually stop laughing flag considerably.

"Are you saying they asked you about a threesome?" she hissed, clutching her side as he pulled her quickly across the rooftop. The champagne combined with missing dinner entirely meant that what little alcohol she'd consumed had gone straight to her head, and she had to stifle even more laughter.

"Betty Cooper," he gasped in playful exasperation, and continued with, "no, thank god, I was just the lucky soul that always seemed to walk in on them. Even if 'walking in on them' would usually be more accurately described as 'catching them on the balcony, your shared and formerly-sacred space'."

Betty burst into renewed giggles, and he fought the urge to laugh along with her while repeatedly hitting the call button for the elevator.

Betty made her way over to his Honda for the third time that night. When they were both in and buckled, she leaned her shoulder against the passenger side window and surveyed him.

"Did you have a good time?" she asked him, giving him the ghost of the look she'd given him before, when he'd made sure she had a way to get home after work - which had seemed like the right thing to do, but she clearly wasn't used to that.

"Yeah." He nodded, feeling a sympathetic grin form on his own face. "I know I complain… but yeah."

"Who's Kevin?" Jughead glanced up at Jelly the next morning over breakfast, trying to keep his face flat and devoid of emotion. Betty had mentioned Kevin on several occasions since he'd met her, and his curiosity wasn't allowing him to ignore this fact any longer.

"You mean Betty's very super gay best friend Kevin?" she replied with an infuriating smirk.

"Oh." He had nothing else on tap for a response.

"Yeah." She laughed, going back to eating her pancakes, and thankfully, she made no other comment except - "If that's your way of asking if Betty is single, then yes, she's single."

A/N: Happy Monday, lovelies. Leave me a comment. There two are so sjhdgfcnkserjhgtslifgu, you know?