Betty was not the type to leap into anything without proper research. This meant that before deciding to take a serious run at this - pregnancy, she used the library computers and researched pregnancy and its symptoms ad nauseam, wanting to be as fully prepared as she could be. Therefore, she knew that insomnia was a symptom, however, she thought she'd managed to evade it, along with seriously bad morning sickness.

Both came calling just around three months in.

Both symptoms felt like the devil on her, making any semblance of simplicity difficult. She was unable to sleep during the night, so she napped during her lunch breaks during the day. It didn't matter that she didn't eat, her stomach wasn't accepting anything to begin with. Her nausea was only subdued at night, and at night, the last thing Betty wanted to do was turn on the stove and cook a full meal. She'd taken to pre-making meals to microwave, but her stomach seemed to know that it was a far cry from what she could have, and it made her gag all the way down.

When she searched herself to figure out what she wanted one night, close to 2 am, she realized it was Pop's.

At least her pregnancy had the decency to pick a place that ran for 24 hours.

So, she gathered herself in jeans (still fit, by the way; she was hardly showing at all, so much so that she wondered sometimes if she even was pregnant) and a hoodie and walked to Pop's.

Jordan was there.

He made a strange face at her late-night mid-week appearance but set a mug of tea out for her wordlessly.

"What are your hours?" She asked, unable to stop herself. She'd seen him mid-day with Archie, late evening by herself, and now in at basically the witching hour. Plus, he was here often enough to know her standard take-out order, and she had picked it up at all hours of the day.

Jordan snorted, "Whatever I can pick up," He replied. She tilted her head and had to wonder…was it by the necessity of funds or that he had an excuse not to associate more than necessary with his former friends? Either way, she figured it wasn't her place to pry, "Burger?"

And Jordan wasn't wrong. As she would discover, he was there…all the time.

Between her insomnia, nausea during the day, and late-night cravings, the only time Betty was getting anything healthy was at Pop's (and even that was debatable). But it just became a thing . She would show up at strange hours of the night when it was near deserted, and Jordan would be working. He'd always start her off with a green tea on the house that he didn't charge her for, and on nights it seemed he thought he could get away with it, he gave her pie. She, naturally, always tried to pay her way, but Jordan wouldn't have it.

He also categorically would not let her walk home afterward unless the sun was out. His friend, who Betty still hadn't caught the name of, who worked as the cook in the back, would watch it while Jordan drove her the ten-minute drive back to the town center, no matter how much Betty insisted she was an independent woman.

"An independent woman who's gunna get stabbed," Jordan would reply in exasperation.

"Here? Riverdale? Seriously?" She snorted, "Doubt it."

But the first part of her to swell was her feet, so, she didn't mind the rides back. However, she'd protest every inch of the way, never wanting Jordan to feel like he had to give her a lift. It wasn't fair on him that she wandered in, disturbing his night.

When she told him this, he snorted, "Disturbing? It's either conversation with you or conversation with patrons who are 98, so yeah, I'd rather talk to you."

It didn't seem like much of a choice, but Betty's heart still fluttered nervously to hear him say that.

It was nearly June 1st when it hit her; when she came into the diner one day and Jordan wasn't there she realized that she almost didn't want to even eat there at all. It was daylight hours and Archie was with her this time, which she tried to tell herself was for the best. Sometimes she felt like she and Jordan slipped into 'flirty' and it would probably wig Archie out to have to witness that.

Still, his absence bothered her. You bonded with someone during the hours of the night when no one else was up, with no distractions, for hours spent at neon and laminate countertops.

They managed to grab a booth, but Betty couldn't stop herself from craning her neck to see if maybe, just maybe, Jordan was hidden somewhere, but he didn't seem present at all.

"Whatcha looking for?" Archie asked.

"Not looking," Betty was quick to say, swallowing hard, "There's just a client over there…I'm hoping he doesn't come and bother me about when his car will be done." It wasn't even a total lie. She did see someone who had a particularly irksome vehicle with many issues and she was hoping to be left alone in the meantime.

"I get that," Archie winced, drumming his fingers on the table, "Hell, that's why I don't go out to eat in Greendale if I can help it. You want to talk about people being annoyed? Construction takes forever and yet no one seems to realize that!" He huffed, "It's like they think that I snap my finger and wave a magic wand, and an entire condo will be built."

Betty gave him a sympathetic smile and patted his hand, "How is it?" She asked. Whenever they talked at night, they talked about greater, grander things and not so much the day-to-day boringness of it all.

"Hold that thought…I see someone over there that owes me money," Archie said, raising a finger and bolting out of his seat. Betty turned to see him approaching a dark-haired man and caught the beginning of his greeting, "Reggie! Haven't seen you since Poker Night…"

Betty turned back in her seat, pretending to read the menu, though by this point she practically had it memorized.

A waitress came over. It looked like a teenager who was bored out of her skull, likely here to make some summer funds but was not happy about it.

Betty hadn't seen her before.

"Is Jordan in today?" She couldn't help but ask, telling herself she was asking out of friendly curiosity.

The girl shrugged, "Dunno. Don't think so."

"Well, was he scheduled to come in?" She prodded.

"Uhm…" The girl looked even more unsure, "Dunno."

Wow. What a wealth of information.

"He's…okay…right? Like, not sick or something…" Betty tried one last time. At the teenager's mildly confused expression, she gave a forced laugh, "He just…oh, it's not a big deal… never mind."

"Do you want me to tell him you were looking for him?" The girl asked slowly.

"No!" Betty said, a bit too loudly, a blush crawling up her neck rapidly, "No, no," She coughed, "That's, not…necessary…" She muttered.

The teenager now looked a bit more piqued of interest, staring at Betty and trying to hide a smirk.

"What's not necessary?" Archie asked, clearly victorious, stuffing $50 in his back pocket.

"To give us time with the menus. We know what we want, right?" Betty asked, slapping her hand down before the teen could reply.

Archie didn't seem to pick up on any strangeness at all, "Oh! Yeah. My usual."

The girl stared blankly at him, "Dude, it's my third day. I don't know you."

Betty wished she could just disappear into the squishy plastic, vanish from the sightline of the girl, who was now focused hard on Betty, no doubt trying to figure out if Archie was her boyfriend or husband or brother or why she'd be sniffing around about a waiter here.

Betty watched as the girl took their orders to the window and leaned in, talking to Jordan's friend. The boy poked his head out from behind the ovens, a rare occurrence, and scanned the diner. When he found Betty, who was not meeting his eye but acutely aware of his gaze, she could almost feel the amusement rolling off him.

Out of the corner of her eye, Betty watched the cook wave his hands and shoo her away, but it seemed the matter was dropped.

Betty found it difficult to fully listen to Archie while she was here, as though expecting Jordan to pop out from the woodwork, apologizing for his absence and ready to hand Betty a slice of pie. She dug deep within herself and asked why it was so startling that he wasn't here, other than it seemed he was an institution as much as the old jukebox in the corner may be. But she didn't need him here every waking moment she was, that was insane! He deserved days off too, she scolded herself.

No, it bothered her more that he wasn't here to talk to her. As much as she'd grown to love Archie like a brother and looked forward to their calls, she'd connected with Jordan in a way that was hard for her to pin down with words.

It was Archie who finally pointed it out, and well, if Archie picked up on something…you must be down bad.

"Who-hoo! Earth to Betty!" He waved a hand in front of her face.

Betty realized she'd been zoning out, looking out the window mindlessly, hands on her cheek.

"Ah, god, sorry, Arch," She groaned, sitting up straight, "What were you saying?"

"What's got your head so up in the clouds?" Archie chuckled, not nearly as offended as she'd expected him to be.

"Nothing, it's…" She inhaled loudly, "Really, nothing."

"No, not nothing," He said, tucking into his burger. Betty had been so caught up she hadn't realized food had come, "I would ask what's on your mind, but frankly, it's probably a who."

Betty nearly choked on a fry, "What do you mean?" She asked.

"I don't know if you've met someone here or you're pining for someone back home, but I know the look well enough. It's how I looked when my dad asked if I liked Ree before I realized it." Archie said. After a moment, drinking in Betty's stunned silence, he grinned, a mischievous smile, "Do I know him? Or her…no judgment."

"No, you…don't know him…" Betty said quietly. It was mostly true. Archie tolerated Jordan but didn't know him. Not truly. Not enough to let go of old prejudices.

"You're not denying it, Betty," Archie teased, "And you like to argue everything!" He laughed.

Betty bit her lip, staring down at her malt. God, it was true, wasn't it? She had a crush on Jordan.

Fancying anyone was sort of a foreign concept to her. Her mother had been uber strict in high school, so neither she nor Polly had dated (at least, to her mother's knowledge…Polly had a few secret boyfriends, but not Betty). And then in college, she'd been so focused on getting good grades that her first few years had been just a blur of classes and homework. By the time she had begun to consider the possibility of anyone, nothing had come to pass. To get Veronica off her case, she'd had a few one-night (protected and safe) stands with a handful of guys, all passable enough, but no one she was interested in doing anything serious with. And then when it came to the guy she'd made the drunken mistake with, there was no 'crush' there, just hatred. And yes, she knew that Veronica may argue that love and hate were a circle, but god…not him.

So honestly, she'd never had a crush on anyone and felt free enough to let those feelings live, and certainly not as an adult who could do as she pleased.

But it must be true…as she considered Archie's points, a lump grew in the bottom of her stomach with a certainty that couldn't be ignored.

But it was all the worst of timing. And they barely knew each other. And maybe he was just being polite to her, and she would be an ass to assume that their friendship here at the diner meant anything to him. And-

"I can already see you trying to talk yourself out of it," Archie poked her with the end of his fork, the non-pointy end, "Stop it, Betty!"

Archie knew her a lot better than she knew herself.

"There's just a lot of reasons it's a bad idea," She waved a hand, "And besides, it's just a crush. He might not even like me back."

"Betty," Archie said warmly, "I've only known you a few months, but anyone would be crazy not to like you back," He insisted, "The folks here are good people."

"How are you sure it isn't someone back home?" Betty asked shrewdly, "Homesickness moving in?"

"I guess I don't," Archie scratched his head, "But selfishly, if it were someone here, you'd stick around." He gave a half-hearted shrug, trying not to seem as affected by his statement as he was.

"Oh, Arch." Betty leaned forward, "I'm here for the long haul."

And she was. This town seemed like a perfect place to raise her child. She'd been welcomed in a way she'd never before, and everything was just so…simple. She had lived complicated ways her whole life.

"You say that, but you never know. Someone here would tether you." He said, "People always leave."

She wondered if he was missing his best friend, Jughead, who she'd only heard about through stories. Or his girlfriend, who had been here one summer and then plucked back to her old life. Or even his mother, who hadn't stuck around.

Her heart ached for Archie. To feel alone was such a terrible cross to bear.

"Not me," Betty said quietly, "Promise."

And, as she said it, she could almost see it. The way her bones would settle into a life here. Maybe she could get a house one day, a fixer-uper, and Archie would help restore it. She saw a thousand lives moving forward; her and her kid and Uncle Archie and Grandpa Fred and she wanted all of them. But, lingering in the corner of all of these futures, was a figure that was just about the height of Jordan.

But Betty couldn't hope for that much. She would be getting ahead of herself to hope for more than steady friendship.

XXX

A few days later, on the third of July, Betty woke up to a very wet kitchen.

Hands on her hips, she stared at the gathering water on the hardwood floor, lips curled back into a scowl.

"That's not good," She said out loud, using her toe and a musty towel to try to mop up as much as she could.

The first logical place to check was the sink; but there was no leakage, nothing wet under there. She even did the equivalent of a workout by turning the way on and dropping to the floor as fast (and safely) as she could to see if there were any traitours leaks.

But nothing.

Next was her fridge; she imagined maybe the ice maker had gone out, and was pouring water freely. But all her ice was accounted for and very much still solid.

It was only when her dishwasher gave a gurgle and spat out another half-gallon of water that she realized it.

"Great," Betty said sharply, shutting off the cycle and opening it. Her plates were barely washed and all smelled like wet, moist heat. She spent time putting her entire load into her sink and then tried to get to the bottom of what was wrong.

She was a tinkerer. She liked knowing how things worked. She worked at a mechanic's shop, for god's sake! Something as simple as a faulty dishwasher shouldn't beat her.

And usually, it wouldn't. But it was a quick analysis to realize that she would need to pull the dishwasher away from the wall and squeeze herself behind it to fix the damn thing, and neither of those activities was great when one was pregnant.

For the first time since she'd gotten pregnant, Betty cursed her situation.

Grumpily, she called her landlady, explaining the best she could what seemed wrong with it.

"They will fix in an hour," Her landlady said, leaving Betty with a whole slew of questions. Who was 'they', exactly? And how could she summon a handyman so quickly, on a Friday no less?

Betty - with her new phone - called Leo, who told her not to worry about it at all.

Having time she was not used to having in her space, Betty's mind began to wander as she stared to think about all the things she'd need to save and buy for the baby's room soon. Her fingers twitched and her leg bounced as she sat in her living room, frustrated and wishing she could just get her hands dirty and fix it.

Just a hair over an hour later, there was a knock on the door. Betty opened it to see her landlady, just as wrinkled and small in stature as she remembered.

"Here soon," The landlady said, "Clean the floors."

Betty got the sense that she wasn't asking Betty if she'd cleaned them, it was more of a command. Betty pointed to the wad of balled-up towels and her landlady gave a nod of approval. Though this place was beat up, the floors were real hardwood and therefore the nicest feature of this apartment.

"Dry them," The lady said. Betty took her directness not as rudeness but as a lapse in English. Plus, Betty had nothing better to do, so she forced a smile and collected the wet towels to hang on her porch. She had a dryer, but it was much easier to just pin things out in the sun.

Just as Betty was opening the door back to her apartment, she heard her landlady communicating with someone in a fast-paced foreign language. Betty had no idea what it was and didn't recognize a lick of it.

Someone responded. Someone…familiar.

The screen door slammed behind Betty with a loud, jarring noise. She jumped in the air and the two people poked their heads around the wall.

"Betty?" Jordan asked, surprised to see her. She was equally as unsure as what to say, especially as her mind whirled through Archie's observation from their last meet-up.

"My dishwasher committed suicide," Betty finally said, a poor attempt at a joke, and was grateful to see a smile and a chuckle. Jordan walked into the kitchen with the landlady, and Betty trailed behind like a ghost. "You have to get behind it. It's a problem with the seal, I think."

Jordan looked up, amused, "Yeah, got that." He turned and spoke with the landlady, nothing elaborate, and she patted his head in the sort of way that a family member would. Just as Betty was wondering if this was a second job of his, or what, Jordan leaned over and pecked the woman on the cheek.

Family, for sure, Betty decided. She recalled the joke about Jordan being an orphan, but she supposed that may have been wrong…

The landlady left, saying something to Betty in a language she didn't understand, before closing the door leaving the pair alone in Betty's apartment.

"Is that your-," Betty began to ask at the same time Jordan spoke:

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Betty licked her lips, "Same to you."

Jordan laughed, grabbing a tool kit from a countertop Betty hadn't seen him bring in, shrugging as if to say, 'hell, you caught me'.

"Heard you were looking for me the other day. Erica told me you were distraught that I wasn't in."

Betty resisted the blush up her cheeks or to hide her face, "Erica exaggerates," She groaned, "I was just surprised you weren't around." She tried to play it off.

Jordan was still smiling, "Hmm." He said.

"So, what, you moonlight as a handyman? Or would it be daylighting…" She considered, deciding this was the proper term since she'd seen him most frequently in the early hours of the morning.

"Not officially," Jordan explained, "As a favor, mostly. I can't do everything; when your idiot neighbor flooded his apartment and we needed to rehaul the entire bathroom, that was out of my league," He said, pulling out the dishwasher, grabbing a spare towel to pat up some water that had been trapped underneath, "Saves Babcia some time and money if I can do it."

"Well, that's nice of you to do for...Babcia." Betty decided, entirely embarrassed, realizing she'd never learned her landlady's first name, just the last name.

Jordan bit out a laugh between his teeth, "Babcia means 'grandma' in Polish. She'd probably look at you weird if you called her that." He advised, which told Betty quite a lot. That he had some family, and that he spoke Polish, at the very least.

Betty curled up in the kitchen. Jordan looked over his shoulder.

"You just gunna sit there?" He asked.

"Why, have trouble under pressure?" Betty teased. Jordan dug his hands behind the dishwasher, unruffled but her japes as he raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, that's not a problem, I promise," He said in a way that made Betty's entire body shiver.

Well, that had backfired.

"I don't have anywhere to be. And I like using my hands. I want to know what you're doing," She said by way of reasonable explanation.

"Fine, sure," Jordan decided, though seemed a bit unsure, despite his words, "Shouldn't be too long."

"So where were you the other day?" Betty finally blurted. She couldn't help her curiosity.

"You just can't stand not knowing something, can you?" Jordan clocked her immediately with a wry grin.

"You don't have to tell me," Betty rolled her eyes, "I was just looking forward to a key lime pie."

"You can buy those yourself." Jordan said, "You're not banned from doing so if I'm not there."

"Sure, but…" She scrunched her nose, torn between wanting to say 'It's better when you are' or 'I like that you just give it to me'. The second seemed wildly arrogant, to think that she deserved free pie, but the first admitted far more than she cared to say.

"It was just a day off," Jordan shrugged, "Nothing special. With Erica there this summer, we have better coverage."

"Oh."

"I might have days off in the future, too," He added, "To mentally prepare you."

"Sure, duh, I know that." Betty scoffed.

The pair continued to talk, as though making up for the day he was gone, while he worked. At a certain point, Betty realized he'd been done for a while, but lingered, pretending to still fiddle with it.

She wondered if he knew that she knew. She didn't bring it up, because she didn't want him to leave either.

The ringing of his cell phone startled them both.

Jordan answered, speaking Polish again, though Betty was no more able to understand what he was saying than before.

Slowly, he packed up his things, "Wanted an update. Good timing, huh?" He said, pretending as though he'd just finished.

"Yeah, totally." Betty was cursing his grandma, albeit his very sweet grandma, internally.

"Do you mind…bathroom?" He asked, looking around. Internally, Betty tried to remember if she left her pre-natal vitamins out. It was a silly fear; she never did. She kept them primly in the medicine cabinet, labels facing out, in a neat line.

"Through there. Past the second bedroom," She said.

"Two bedrooms," Jordan whistles, "My grandma only has you on the lease…"

She wondered if his surprise that she lived here was genuine. Or perhaps he just knew one person was meant to live here, not who. Obsessing over a likely minor comment was useless.

"Just me," Betty shrugged. Jordan was no doubt curious what a girl like her was doing with all that space, "No boyfriend, no roommates. Just…I dunno, an office. It was a great price." She finished awkwardly.

"Sorry, not my place to pry," Jordan grumbled, his cheeks splotched with red as he reminded himself of his place, "Right, the bathroom."

Betty managed to wash two dishes while he was gone, distracted, focused on every creak of the floor behind her. When he exited, she turned, leaning against her sink as he went to the front door.

In the doorframe, Jordan paused. He seemed to be readying himself for something, "Look, my friends and I are getting together for the 4th tomorrow. Only cool people, I swear. I mean, if you have nothing better to do…" He trailed off, shrugging, "It's stupid, really, but-,"

Betty's heart beat hard. She swallowed, "I'll, uhm, check my schedule."

The schedule she knew was open, other than meeting Fred and Archie for a 4th of July brunch.

"Here," He said, spying her phone. Quickly, he reached across the space and plucked it from her hand. If he was looking at it, he'd seen nearly no contacts and even fewer apps and maybe find it odd. But it just seemed like he typed his number and not much else, "If you are free. It, uh, would be cool."

"And it won't break the space-time continuum for us to meet outside of Pop's?"

Jordan grinned widely, "I think meeting here already has. We've changed the future, Betty. No going back."

Then, because he couldn't find a reason to remain, he gave Betty a sharp nod, "Just…text. Or don't. My feelings won't be hurt. See you tomorrow…maybe."