Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

December 13 

There had been precisely zero calls regarding the jobs she’d applied for. Over the past few days, Jughead had watched Betty obsessively refresh her email feed and check for messages, finally tossing her phone behind the couch cushion before she blew out a breath and pushed her hair back from her face. She was wound-up like a top and he knew it was only a matter of time before she regressed into some of her old habits for dealing with failure and stress. He had to do something.

Tossing an empty milk carton in the garbage, he yelled to Betty that he was headed out for more liquid sustenance. Quickly, he ducked out and walked down to the nearest grocery store, scanning the baking aisle for his needs, before making his way to the store’s liquor department. While neither of them were heavy drinkers in the city, when they were around each other at home, they tended to drink more. Jughead liked to think that Betty felt safe being vulnerable and tipsy when she was with him rather than with strangers. For Jughead, he continually tried to keep his mouth full with either food or alcohol when they were out to stop himself from saying the stupid things that were floating around his head, like, ‘Marry me?”

Jughead hit the self-checkout, preferring not to interact with ‘angry John’ the cashier or ‘creepy-eyed Sue’ who was bagging. She always looked at him like the kids in the candy aisle looked at a lollipop. Unnerved, as usual, he swiped his card and gathered the bags before heading home to Betty.

“That looks like a bit more than just milk, Jug,” Betty teased. “Did you find yourself in a conundrum again in the cereal aisle? What did you pick, the Captain Crunch or Fruity Pebbles?”

Jughead scoffed and offered a goofy “Hardee-har-har,” at her joke as he dumped the contents of the paper bag on the table, placing the plastic one down more carefully.

Betty slid off the couch and curiously examined his purchases.

“Frosting, gum drops, gummy bears, gummy worms, mints, licorice, chocolate-coated candies, and sprinkles,” Betty listed as she examined the counter. “Is this where you tell me you were born an elf but kicked out of the training program for being too tall and eating all the marshmallows?”

“You with the jokes today,” Jughead said, shaking his head and hoisting a gingerbread house kit up from the floor where he was hiding it. “And to think I braved the cold just for you so we could build a tiny abode for edible men.”

When the box plopped on the countertop, Betty’s eyes lit up and she pressed her hands together in excitement. “Jug! This looks so fun! What made you decide to do this? Usually you don’t play with your food, you just swallow it whole.”

Tossing her another unamused look, he poked her in the shoulder before grabbing the plastic bag he had brought home as well. “You said last week that gingerbread houses were a happy memory for you and you didn’t look happy today. I wanted to change that.”

Betty’s playful banter all but halted, her eyes flashing up at his intensely. He felt like a bug under a microscope, flushing warm as she examined him. He tried to remain as casual as possible, standing there awkwardly and swallowing as he looked back, offering a shy shrug after a while. It was then he noticed an unshed tear or two in her eye and he wondered if he had made things worse by having her relive her happy past.

“If it’s too much we don’t have to,” Jughead gushed out quickly, scooping at the candy on the counter. “I didn’t mean to… I just thought…”

Betty’s hand reached out and stilled his as she shook her head and stopped their motion. “This is perfect, Jug. It’s exactly what I needed today. Thank you.”

His shoulders finally relaxed as he brandished a happy, boyish smile on his face before wiggling his eyebrows and opening the plastic bag he had been carrying as well, revealing a bottle of vanilla vodka, gingerbread syrup, and some coffee liqueur.

“Also, a little remnant of my childhood to accompany yours, all the makings of a gingerbread cookie cocktail. Just add some half-and-half and brown sugar and voila, the perfect holiday treat.”

“I’m a bit nervous as to exactly how this is one of your childhood traditions, but I have to say I’m very excited to partake in said activity,” Betty replied warily.

Jughead guffawed at her before grabbing some glasses and a pitcher from the cabinet and started to mix up a batch of the drinks. “Mom and Dad would have these. Mine was strictly the kid-version, made with vanilla syrup, whipped cream, ice cream, cinnamon, and nutmeg, with just a bit of actual coffee as well. Explains my addiction to caffeine at such a young age.”

Betty leaned up against the counter, smiling as she watched him work. “No slacking, Cooper,” he tossed over his shoulder at her. “I have never assembled a tiny cookie house for tiny cookie people. You have to take charge here.”

Betty began to unpack the kit, laying the brown, spiced cookie pieces out on the counter as she watched him work. “Is this one of those situations where I do all the work, you eat candy, and then also destroy and eat the finished product? Because if it is, tell me now and we can just eat it before I spend hours making it look nice.”

“Hours?” He gasped. “It takes hours to make one of these? I thought you just slapped on some frosting and called it a day.”

“Jug,” Betty sniggered. “If you want to make something good, it takes time. No one likes a sloppy rush job. We need to take it slow and make it good.”

“Fat hool bis dor hemdoom, nop tishen,” he mumbled as he used his teeth to uncork the syrup bottle.

“What did you say?” Betty giggled, tearing open the candy bags and grabbing some bowls to place the pieces in as Jughead took the cork from his mouth and added syrup to his mix.

“I said, that rule is for the bedroom, not the kitchen,” he reiterated, more intelligibly this time and giving Betty cause to blush. His smug grin agitated her and Betty decided to fire back.

“Oh really?” she said softly. “And what if you’re not in the bedroom? Say you’re… on the kitchen counter. Does the same rule apply?”

It took him an extra moment to formulate a response as at that moment he was picturing Betty on the kitchen counter, apron-clad, with himself devouring her. “You plan on forking in the kitchen, Betts?” Jughead teased. “‘Cause omelette you in on something, it’s more dangerous than you think. You have to be wary of knives, glass, salmonella…”

“You’re so odd, Jug,” Betty giggled, taking a glass from him as he poured his own drink. “But you’re mine and I’ll keep you.”

“That’s me. I’m a weird-dough.” He grinned at her, holding up his glass to cheers her own. “To my first time making a gingerbread house. My God help you because I have limited patience when it comes to food preparation.”

“Amen,” Betty said simply, clinking his glass and sipping her drink.

An hour, and three gingerbread cookie cocktails later, they both stood, cock-eyed, staring at the slightly tilted structure they had built together. As they watched, the roof slid off of one side, falling onto the platter below. In a fit of giggles, Betty picked it up and put it back on, securing it with an unnecessarily large glob of icing.

“I bet this is the ugliest gingerbread house you've ever made,” Jughead said, gesturing towards their mess. “I guess it goes with the theme of our current residence.”

Betty licked a bit of frosting from her fingers and smiled at him, her grin radiant and real. “I’ve lived in a ‘perfect’ house and made plenty of ‘perfect’ gingerbread houses, but this one, lopsided and messy, is my favorite.”

Jughead felt a warmth spreading through his chest at her words and felt the air between them crackle with electricity. Since they had moved in together things had felt different, charged. He wasn’t sure if it was the constant proximity or the fact that they were still sharing a bed, but he swore he had caught Betty looking at him, and not in a way you’d look at a friend.

He searched for the perfect words, but his writer’s block seemed to extend into his personal life as well as professional. “Betty, I…”

Betty put down the piping bag and looked up at him expectantly. “You what, Jug?”

‘ I love you. I want you. I need you. I’d die for you.’ All of these options rambled through his brain, but none were what came out of his mouth. 

“I want a gummy bear,” he said flatly, mumbling a bit as he stared down at the counter. “Is it time to decorate?”

Betty sighed at his response, but nodded nonetheless, putting the bowls of candy out in front of him.

Betty insisted they coat the entire roof with candies, alternating in different colors. Halfway through she realized they were out of green candies and began to search around the counter until she found the source of the problem red-handed.

“Jughead!” Betty yelled. “Did you eat all the green ones?”

“The green ones taste the best,” he shrugged as if it were common sense.

“How are we supposed to finish the roof without green candies?” Betty groaned. “The pattern will be all wrong.”

Jughead considered her words and devised a solution. “How about I lick a few blue ones and we rub them on the yellow ones?” he offered, watching her jaw drop and laughing at her face. “Betts, imperfect house, remember?” 

Betty mumbled and grabbed her glass, downing the rest of what was inside. They were both pretty tipsy and the house was a reflection of that. Grabbing a handful of gummy bears, Jughead popped a green one in his mouth before tossing a handful of other-colored reject bears over the house at Betty. With his aim off, the bears pelted the roof and slid down, taking half the other candies with them.

Jughead looked up, nervously awaiting a scolding from his roommate, only to find her laughing hysterically, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Oops?” Jughead squeaked out sheepishly.

Betty picked up a handful of sprinkles and edible glitter she had taken from her own baking supply and blew it across the house, all over Jughead. 

“Oops,” she giggled. Mimicking his own words.

There was a moment's pause before they both attacked, grabbing candy and flinging it around the kitchen, coating each other in sprinkles and gumdrops, and smearing frosting across each other’s faces. Just as Betty was poised to shove a handful of gummy worms down his back, Jughead spun and grabbed the discarded piping bag, squirting goopy frosting across her face, blasting out a hysterical laugh as it dripped off her forehead and cheekbones onto her neck and collarbone.

In his haste to laugh in victory, he missed the mischievous twinkle in Betty’s eyes as she grabbed his ears and rubbed her face back and forth over his, smearing the frosting all over him as well. Jughead screamed and flailed, grabbing her waist to do what she assumed was to push her away, though he wound up pulling her closer, tickling her sides.

In her slightly inebriated state, she considered how close her lips would be to his own when she navigated her revenge maneuver. As her cheek rubbed against his, before moving to the other side, her lips lightly brushed against his own. Before her face made contact with his other cheek, a fire ignited between them at once. His laughter stopped and her motions faltered. Slowly and hesitantly, they both pulled back, mouths slightly ajar, their little puffs of breath mingling between them. Their eyes locked and for one transcendent moment, they both wondered if this electricity had been there all along, static clinging them together since the very beginning. 

Neither brave enough to make the first move, they both remained still, the pop rhythm of N’Sync breaking the mood as Betty’s phone chimed with her December ringtone.

Tearing her eyes away and exhaling heavily, she swiped to answer without really looking, Veronica’s face popping up on the screen along with Archie, Reggie, Kevin, Toni, Fangs, Cheryl, and Josie.

“What the hell happened to you two?” Veronica said, cringing at her best friend’s appearance. “Did you try to diffuse a bomb in a cake shop a few seconds too late?”

“We made a gingerbread house,” Jughead slurred out, wiping some frosting and sprinkles from his face. “It didn’t end well.”

“Right,” Veronica nodded, right-lipped and skeptical. “Did you two forget about the live Secret Santa draw?”

“We… did not,” Betty hiccuped, giggling as Jughead stifled a laugh behind his hand. 

“Nice,” Archie laughed, recoiling at Veronica’s glare from his side.

“Have you no care for the integrity of this yearly tradition?” Veronica barked. “There are even new rules this year!”

Betty stifled a giggle behind her hand before plastering on the most serious face she could. “You’re right. New rules. Continue.”

Initiating a dramatic pause, Veronica left them all sitting silently for a minute before grinning and beginning her explanation.

“Two new rules have been instituted to Secret Santa for our annual Friendsmas party this year,” she began. “One: The cost limit has been extended to fifty dollars. Our parameters are now no less than twenty-five, no more than fifty. Two: To spice up the party, this year we leave our gifts around the room, no name signed on the card. Everyone must try and figure out who bought the item based on the gift. Just an added element of fun.”

There were mumblings of agreement from around the group chat and Veronica clapped her hands excitedly, ready to draw names. From her side, she tugged a wheel into view.

“Each of our names are attached to this wheel and I’ve already listed the names in order in this notebook. I’ll live spin, removing a name each time it’s chosen, and attach it to the next name in the notebook. When all the names are matched, I’ll text you your giftee. Capeesh?”

“You know there’s an app for this, right?” Toni said, used to Veronica's flair for the dramatic.

Veronica pretended to contemplate that for a moment before shrugging. “My way is more fun.”

She spun and spun until each attendee was matched, promising to text them the instant the call ended. Within thirty seconds of disconnecting each other, their phones dinged. 

VL: Betty, you got Toni. Lucky girl. She’s so fun to shop for.

VL: Jughead, you lucky bastard. You got dear, sweet Bettykins. Make it meaningful. Make it good. That’s not a request. It’s a demand. 

Not wanting to break Veronica’s sacred rules, neither revealed who they received, opting instead to stare at their collapsing gingerbread creation.

“Finish the drink pitcher and watch the Grinch?” Jughead suggested as the door slid off the house and cracked on the counter.

“We should clean up,” Betty frowned, grabbing the gingerbread man and woman she had stuck on the lawn before the total collapse of the roof could destroy them.

“Tomorrow,” Jughead suggested. “When we’re sober. We can eat this ginger disaster for breakfast.”

Another drink in, far beyond tipsy, and halfway through the Grinch, Jughead rested back against the arm of the couch as Betty squished up against him, her head partially in his lap with her legs tossed over the back of the couch.

Both were ignoring the film in favor of playing with the gingerbread boy and girl from their kitchen crafting earlier. 

Betty made the white frosting covered cookies dance along his arm as he sang.

“Oh, I want to live in a gingerbread house 

with a candy cane fence to keep the gummy bears out.

With a hot chocolate hot tub that steams year round 

and tiny sugar snow that covers all the ground…

Light up, the gumdrop lights on the M&M cobblestones all through the night...

And all this powdered sugar snow... 

Guess there’s nowhere to go... 

If you would squeeze me like a marshmallow 

and never ever ever, ever ever ever, ever ever let me go.”

“You know,” Jughead slurred, allowing his cookie to join hers in a dance. “Yours looks like a little bride gingerbread woman with the gobs of white frosting. Maybe the cookies should get married. Maybe we concocted a recipe for love tonight.”

Betty just hummed, half-asleep and brain-fogged from her buzz. 

“She can’t marry him, Juggie,” Betty said matter-of-factly as if her reasoning was perfectly obvious.

Jughead pouted. “Why not?” 

“He has no face,” Betty sighed, dropping her cookie onto her lap. “When girls think of their wedding they don’t want to picture a faceless groom, Jug.”

As she spoke, Betty’s head fell heavier against his chest as her fingertips danced across his arm, content in the moment. 

“I can make him a face,” he offered, sliding his cookie back down by her own. “What kind of face should I make? What do you picture?”

Betty yawned and smacked her lips, dropping her cookie and curling into his side, drifting off to sleep as she mumbled out her tired confession. “I always picture you, Jug. S’always your face.”

She was asleep before he could respond or even think but he was now wide awake and instantly sober. He could chalk it up to their drinking, but he didn’t want to. For the first time in a while, he had hope that things between them were not as one-sided as he had thought. 

Jughead wanted to scoop her up and carry her to bed, but he was more afraid that he’d drop her tonight. Instead, he slunk down further into the cushions and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and over the top of them. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he whispered, “Night, Betts,” before placing their cookies on the coffee table and joining her in a deep slumber.

December 19

The mall was beyond crowded and Jughead squished his arms in as he maneuvered through the crowds, attempting not to brush up against any other store patrons. Malls were a breeding ground for germs on a regular basis, but Christmas in a mall was like entering a hot zone. He and Archie had already been through each wing of the giant shopping center four times. Archie had found his Secret Santa gift on the first pass through but Jughead was still empty-handed.

“What if we try Victoria’s Closet?” Archie suggested, hot, tired, and ready to be done. “Or maybe Jay Jewelers?”

Jughead stopped mid-step and glared over at his friend. They were passing the Santa display again and the sound of children crying as their parents forced them onto an old man’s lap pierced his ears.

“How do you know I don’t have Reg?” Jughead said sarcastically. 

“Let’s cut the crap, Jug. I know you have Betty,” Archie said curtly, rolling his eyes at his friend. 

Jughead gasped in mock shock. “Archibald! Does Veronica know you’ve broken the sacred code of Secret Santa?”

“Veronica knows. Why do you think you have Betty this year?” Archie asked as if it should be common sense, watching the realization dawn on Jughead’s face.

“Wait. You purposely gave me Betty? What happened to the event having integrity? And why on earth would she give me Betty? I could get Reg a bottle of whiskey and he’d be thrilled. Betty deserves… thoughtful and meaningful. Betty is hard.”

“That’s exactly why we gave you Betty, Jug,” Archie explained. “The way you two have been lately, and with you living together, don’t you think it’s time?”

Jughead tilted his head quizzically before cringing at a particularly loud scream from a toddler. Grabbing Archie by the jacket, he pulled him down a side corridor where only a coffee shop and a nail salon were stationed, the atmosphere a bit quieter.

“What do you mean it’s time? Time for what?” Jughead retorted, the aroma of the coffee beans not soothing him the way they normally were able.

Archie scrunched his shoulders up and tossed out his hands, eyes pleading with Jughead to just give it up and come clean. “Time for you...and Betty! Time for you to stop playing the ‘concerned friend’ and just admit you’re in love with her!”

“Ugh!” Jughead blasted out at Archie, running a hand through his hair as he began to pace back and forth. “Even if I was in love with her it changes nothing, Arch! Betty is… I can’t lose her. It’s not like that for her.”

Archie shifted around on his feet, his frustration with Jughead mounting by the second. “Oh really? It’s not like that for Betty? Because we’ve been friends for longer than you two have been and we’ve never spooned up on my couch, all cuddly under a blanket. We don’t share a bed every night…”

“Well, I’d hope not,” Jughead quipped. “Veronica might get pretty mad.”

“Be serious, Jug,” Archie replied. “The two of you have always had something there, bubbling under the surface. We’re not kids anymore. It’s time to confront your truth. You can diffuse this with humor or anger, but you know I’m right.”

Jughead swiped a hand angrily across his lip, foot tapping at the marbled floor in frustration as he looked up at Archie in consideration. He found nothing but a soft, concerned look etched onto Archie’s face, and rather than be a jerk, he let his shoulders sag and heaved out a sigh, nodding slightly.

“Fine. Yes. I am in love with Betty,” Jughead conceded, as Archie tipped his head back and looked up towards the ceiling, thanking every deity known to man. “But I’m not going to do anything about it.”

“Jug…” Archie pleaded.

“She deserves more, Arch. More than our crappy apartment. More than I can give her. Plus, if you aren’t right… if she doesn’t feel the same, I just can’t take that chance.”

Archie opened his mouth to respond, but frowned instead, closing his lips as he searched his pockets for his car keys. 

“Where are you going?” Jughead aske. It was clear Archie was angry with him.

“Home,” Archie said coolly.

“But I still haven’t found Betty a gift,” Jughead called out as Archie began to head toward the exit.

“Just get her some socks. Or better yet, another book. Preferably one on ostriches so she can decipher you. You always seem to have your head in the sand… among other places.”

As Archie exited into the cold December air, Jughead huffed out a string of expletives, quickly apologizing to a woman nearby who pulled her child far away from him. Admittedly, he probably did seem a bit crazy at that moment, but any type of discussion about Betty and his feelings left him feeling like an incompetent moron.

Walking back into the heart of the crowd, Jughead glanced around at the shop names again, finding he was just adjacent to the bookstore and the jewellers. Glancing between both, he shook his head and cursed again, berating himself for being spineless when it came to romance. 

He was being difficult, that he knew. He wasn’t sure exactly what he and Betty were, but they were more than best friends. Her confession the night of their gingerbread fiasco had widened his view. Betty pictured him when she thought of her future. But what did that mean? Was it because he was there? Because she trusted him? She hadn’t come right out and said she loved him. And then there was the almost kiss. She hadn’t brought it up again, but neither had he. Was it the alcohol or did Betty genuinely want to kiss him, using the liquid courage as fuel?

With a groan and a shove through the crowd, he headed into the book shop. At least they served espresso there. He needed a wake-me-up- and not the kind Archie had tried to push onto him.

….

Flour was everywhere. It was on the floor, the counter, Betty’s apron, and her face. It seemed to coat every surface of the kitchen, minus a one-foot radius around Veronica, who seemed to repel mess.

“Honestly, Betty,” Veronica sighed. “This looks exhausting. How many cookies do you need to bake?”

“I need enough to make cookie trays to deliver to a few people and for your party. I usually make twelve different varieties with my mom, but we still aren’t speaking. Alone, I think I can do at least eight.”

“Or,” Veronica countered. “You could just buy them.”

Betty shot her an awful look, jaw dropped and eyes aghast. “I bake with love. You can’t taste love when the cookies are store-bought. Then you just taste high-fructose corn syrup and xanthan gum.”

Veronica pursed her lips and nodded. This was the perfect moment she had been waiting for to bring up what had been on her mind.

“And will Jughead be eating some of these… love cookies?” Veronica asked curiously, avoiding Betty’s gaze for the moment and instead eyeing her manicure.

Betty furiously whisked some cocoa powder into the mixture she had stirring, blowing a tuft of hair from her eye that had flopped out of her ponytail, a bit of the brown powder puffing up with her huff of breath.

“Well, he does live here and he does let me live here, rent free might I add. So yes, the least I can do is feed that black hole that is his appetite,” Betty answered, looking at Veronica like her question was a ridiculous waste of her breath. It seemed obvious that her roommate would benefit from her compulsive need to bake beautiful cookies.

Veronica groaned and straightened up on the stool, leaning over the counter to get Betty’s attention. “B, come one. You know what I mean.”

Betty chose to stare into the bowl she held, plopping in two egg yolks as she whisked more furiously, hoping to avoid having the conversation with Veronica that she was attempting to instigate. When Veronica all but knocked the whisk from her hands to get her attention, Betty sighed and put down the bowl, placing her hands on her hips and staring at her friend in frustration.

“Say whatever it is you want to say, V, and then let me get back to baking. I have two more batters to make before Jug gets home and interferes.”

“Betty,” Veronica droned sweetly. “I was simply wondering whether the cookies you make for say, me, and the cookies you make for Jughead have an equal amount of love in them?” Veronica asked as she fiddled with Betty’s set of measuring spoons. “I know you love me, but perhaps you love me a bit like granulated sugar and Jughead a bit more like powdered sugar?”

“I don’t understand the difference, V,” Betty said, annoyed. “I get what you’re hinting at, but you’re not making any sense.”

Veronica shrugged and filled up a measuring cup with some confectioner’s sugar and the other with the regular, granulated kind. “Well, this cup of regular sugar is important in your batter,” Veronica explained. “It helps make your cookies sweet, just like me. I add some sweetness to your life. Don’t deny it.”

Betty raised an eyebrow but couldn't help but smile at her friend. Veronica was an overwhelming force in her existence, but one she simply adored. “Okay, V. I give. What is so different about the other sugar?”

Veronica’s smile widened and her eyes sparkled. It was always a good sign when Betty was willing to play along. “Well, B,” she began. “The confectioner’s sugar is a bit more...fine. It goes into your recipe, but it also is what you can coat on top to make an already delicious cookie better.”

Dropping some onto Betty’s apron, she continued. “It also sticks to you. It’s hard to get off. No matter how hard you swipe at it, that sugar seems to stay there. Once it touched that cookie they were bonded.”

Both girls were quiet for a while as Veronica examined Betty’s face from under her lashes and Betty studied the countertop.

“Jughead isn’t sugar and I’m not a cookie,” Betty muttered, finally addressing what Veronica had insinuated. “Things aren’t always an easy recipe, V. Some recipes are...complicated and some ingredients can’t be paired together.”

Veronica noted how Betty’s eyes shifted off to the side. She knew that if she could only catch her gaze that Betty would crack.

“Oh, B,” Veronica said softly. “I’ve never seen a more perfect recipe.”

At her words, Betty just happened to glance up quickly, but it was enough. Veronica gripped Betty’s hand and looked at her expectantly and that’s when she cracked.

“A recipe for disaster!” Betty cried out, yanking her hand away as she began pacing back and forth in the small kitchen. “We almost kissed, V. The other day right before you called for Secret Santa. We were drinking and having fun and...my lips brushed his. It was… it was… I wanted it to be more. To be real. But he didn’t bring it up again.”

Veronica’s eyes widened like saucers. This was new information and very promising. “Did you say anything, B? I mean, maybe he’s just as nervous as you are.”

Betty shook her head and grabbed the bowl she had put down and began whisking again, afraid her batter would spoil. Veronica stilled her voracious whisking for a moment. “You love him, Betty. He loves you. Why won’t you just let that play out?”

“Because I can’t,” Betty snapped back. “Because I won’t. I won’t lose him if he doesn’t feel the same.”

Veronica’s phone dinged with a text from Archie, the angry emoji followed by the smiley face with its head exploding. It seemed he got about as far as she did with Jughead. Standing from the stool, Veronica straightened her skirt and grabbed her purse. 

“Archie and I have dinner plans so I need to head out. But, B? Consider what I said. Sometimes a new recipe might seem difficult or intimidating, but once you try it, you’ll see it was exactly what was needed on the menu.”

…..

When Jughead arrived home, the front door was propped open. He realized then Betty must still be baking. Their thermostat still wouldn’t budge so their only options were heat on or off. When it was on, it was like Florida in August. When it was off, it was basically the North Pole. He assumed that since the hallways blasted cold air from outside through the corridors that she had propped open the door to let out the heat.

Jughead found Betty in the kitchen, headphones in and singing along to Christmas songs as she rolled batter from her favorite green mixing bowl into little balls, dunking them in sugar before placing them on the baking sheet. She baked like an angel and sang like one too. Drifting back to their last kitchen adventure, he thought back to their barely-there kiss and the flirty banter she had slung his way. Maybe Archie was right. He was a coward. Betty could have moved into Veronica’s spare room with her own private bathroom and luxury sheets. Instead, she crammed into this hole-in-the-wall shoebox with him instead. Why?

Stashing the book he had bought her under the sofa, he snuck up behind her, poking her in the side and laughing as she jumped, startled, gripping her chest by her heart.

“Jug,” Betty gasped, relieved to see it was him and not an intruder. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Don’t leave the door open,” he retorted, a bit of a serious undertone to his words. “You never know who is going to walk in this place. We are on the Southside.”

Betty smiled teasingly and quirked a brow at him. “Well, you’re here. Can’t get much worse. Now out of my kitchen. You’ll ruin my system.”

Jughead grumbled, but obeyed her wishes, leaving the kitchen and snagging the book from where he stashed it to find a better hiding spot in his dresser. When he re-emerged from the bedroom with his laptop hoping to get some writing done, there was a plate with three cookies on the coffee table waiting for him. Betty didn’t turn around, but her headphones were no longer on and he knew she heard him come back in the room. Smiling at her back, he took a bite of a cookie and began to type.

Half-an-hour later, his cookies were long gone and the aroma of what Betty was baking was still wafting from the kitchen. Placing the computer on the seat beside him, Jughead snuck up beside her and grabbed the spoon from her bowl, licking off the batter just as she turned around to catch him red-handed. 

“Jug! Gross!” she laughed, more amused than mad though she pretended to be angry. “These cookies aren’t just for you. Don’t get your spit in my cookie dough!”

“If I do contaminate the dough, does that mean the cookies are all for me?” he asked hopefully.

Smacking his shoulder and pushing him backward, Betty shoved him from the kitchen threshold. “Out!” 

Jughead sighed and pretended to acquiesce, waiting until she had turned around before darting back in and grabbing her spoon again, grinning around the handle of the wooden spoon as Betty turned and stared at him incredulously. 

“Jughead Jones! Stop sneaking in here to eat the dough or I will smack you into next Sunday with this spoon!” Betty warned, holding up the spoon she was using to scoop the dough.

“My spoon is bigger,” he teased, holding up the wooden one he was eating the dough from. Lifting it to his lips, he ate another glob of the dough off the spoon, dragging out an exaggerated “Mmmmm” as he swallowed it.

Betty’s nostrils flared and she lunged forward, grabbing the spoon from him quickly, the sticky chocolate dough smearing its way all over her hands and wrists in the process. Frowning, Betty swiped at the dough, grumbling as it just coated more of her hands as she moved it around.

Jughead was enthralled by every swish of her fingers and flick of her wrist. He was even more sure he wasn’t reading things wrong after his talk with Archie and decided to be brave and step out of his comfort zone. He would never go all in, too nervous to topple the tower in the long game they were playing in case he lost. She had to be the one to give him a sign that this wasn’t in fact a one-sided thing, that she also wanted him. He wouldn’t destroy their friendship unless he was sure.

Taking her hand delicately in his, he found her eyes and he lifted her hand to his lips, closing them over the surface of her skin and sucking some of the batter off, letting the corner of his lip turn up at her slight intake of breath.

“Tastes better than when I licked it off the spoon,” Jughead said, his voice gruff and low as Betty stood, unable to reply as her heart pounded out of her chest, the skin of her hand was tingling where his lips had been.

Betty made no motion to move or speak as Jughead held her gaze. He waited a few more moments, studying her face. He knew her well enough to see the confusion behind her eyes and the doubt that clouded her face as well. His smirk unconsciously dropped into a frown and he dropped her hand, taking a step back. Just as he moved to turn around, Betty grabbed him by the neck of the maroon thermal shirt he wore, tugging him back around. Stepping in close, she opened her mouth a few times to speak, closing it just as quickly as her brain rushed to think of exactly what to say.

‘ I love you but you’re too good for me. I love you, but I know you don’t feel the same way. I love you, but I know we’re just friends .’ Betty couldn’t decide which was best. Her brain was telling her to choose one fast while her body was yelling, ‘ Kiss him, you idiot !’

“Juggie,” Betty managed to breath out softly, her lip trembling a bit as she spoke while he looked down at her expectantly, a hand cupping her elbow lightly as she rested her hand on his chest.

“Elizabeth?” Alice’s voice cut through the room. 

Betty and Jughead jumped back, staring at the presence that had taken up space across the kitchen island. 

“Mom,” Betty said nervously. “What… what are you doing here?”

“How about I ask the questions now?” Alice asked, coldly. “Starting with, why is your couch in his living room if you’re just taking some time away from the city?”

Betty tried to speak, but Alice cut her off again.

“Or maybe, why is it that what is apparently your front door is wide open on the south side of town? Do you not know the things that go on down here in this… depraved community?”

“Mom, I-”

“Or how about this one for you, Elizabeth? Why did you lie to me when you are clearly jobless and living here, and from what I just witnessed, doing God-knows-what else, with this derelict?”

“Mom, if you would just listen-”

“I won’t let you throw your life away for the likes of him! Look what he’s done, Betty! He convinced you to leave the city rather than look for a job. He brought you back here, to the Southside, isolated from everything good in your life! He’s taking advantage of your naivety!”

Betty’s fists curled in on her palms as she squeezed her hands tightly. She was a popcorn canister on the stove and she was just about ready to blow. Stomping around the kitchen island, Betty stood face-to-face with her mother.

“This!” Betty yelled, red-faced and seething. “This is why I didn’t tell you! You never listen!”

“I don’t need to listen, Elizabeth. I have eyes. I can see the squalor this boy has dragged you into!”

Betty held out a fist, thrust up in the air like a punch as she ground her teeth against each other and not her tongue. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm herself, knowing an outburst would only make the situation worse. It was working until Alice continued her tirade.

“I’ve seen enough. Get your things. You’re coming home with me and you’ll work for The Register, ” Alice said quickly, beginning to scour the room and grab at belongings she could tell belonged to her daughter. “And you,” she continued, pointing at Jughead. “I know you mean well, but you can’t relegate my daughter to this lifestyle.”

“That’s enough!” Betty growled out, glaring at her mother. “I know you hate a Jughead’s father. I know you hate the Southside. But you don’t get to treat him that way. Did you know that his book was published? Did you know that while he is freelancing he’s writing another one?”

“Well, I-”

“And while you have been judging him and he’s been silently taking it, he’s also been supporting us! He found us this place, not because he couldn’t afford more, but because until I find a job he’s covering rent for both of us! He does everything he can to make me happy, Mom. He does it just because he actually cares about how I’m feeling!”

Alice huffed out a curt laugh and folded her arms. “I’m sure he is getting something in return,” Alice suggested, raising an eyebrow. “You speak of him like you’re in love with him. Now, come with me. I can’t have you besmirching the Cooper name here.”

“I’m staying with Jughead, Mom! That’s final!” Betty spat back, her expression firm and stance unmoving.

Alice leered at her daughter before flicking her hair over her shoulder and straightening the collar on her coat.

“If you choose this boy, Elizabeth, don’t bother coming home for Christmas. You’ll have made your grave, so you may as well lie in it.”

Betty swallowed roughly, working hard to control the tears that threatened to fall. She wouldn’t let Alice see her cry.

“Have a nice Christmas, Mom,” Betty whispered out, unable to control a few errant tears that cascaded down her cheeks. 

Alice glowered at Betty before flaring over her shoulder at Jughead. “Enjoy your life in squalor,” Alice snarked, grabbing her purse and securing the strap on her shoulder before storming back out the door.

The room was silent as Betty slowly looked over her shoulder to find Jughead watching her, dumbfounded. The second she saw his soft look of concern, her resolve crumbled. Her face scrunched up and the tears poured out. With his long, lanky limbs, Jughead was around the counter and grabbing her in seconds, pulling her tight against his chest and promising everything would work itself out, though he wasn’t honestly so sure of things.

When her tremors had slowed, Betty looked up at him, putting on a stoic face. “I’m better off anyway,” she shrugged. “Who just disowns their daughter for no good reason? Maybe I am an awful daughter for lying, but still.”

“God, Betty,” Jughead gushed out, pulling back and holding her at arm’s length as he spoke, his hands on her shoulders. “You are so far from being awful. It’s a complete travesty that you would even be led to think you aren’t amazing. Your mother is sick and has a warped way of thinking. You did nothing to deserve any of this. You’re a good person. What do you say I make some popcorn and we watch Christmas Vacation ? That will cheer you up.”

Betty forced a smile and rubbed at his cheek, exhausted from the baking and her mother. “Thank you, Jug, but I think I just need to lay down for a while.”

Dropping her arms, Betty turned and headed towards their bedroom, the unused cookie dough left unbaked on the counter. She curled up in a ball on the bed, but couldn’t sleep. Despite leaving him, she wanted nothing more than to curl up on her roommate at the moment but was not ready to deal with the emotional ramifications of that. They had been toeing the line lately between friendship and more. Picking up her phone, she hit speed dial two.

“V,” Betty sniffled, holding back a sob. 

“Betty,” Veronica said, voice laced with worry. “Are you alright? What happened?”

Betty shook her head, though Veronica couldn’t see the gesture. She was too far gone in her panic. “I just… everything is changing.”

She could hear heels clacking through the phone alerting her that Veronica was walking through her apartment, no doubt to go and find Archie.

“Archie and I are only a few blocks away, B. We can call Jughead and come over-”

“No!” Betty shouted. “Don’t call him. He’s home, he’s here. It was Alice. She always has to ruin everything. She’s like a poisoned apple on the tree that’s my life. She just showed up and disowned me and she said, out loud, in front of Jug, that I was in love with him.” 

Veronica sat down carefully on the couch beside Archie and leaned against his side, the call now on speaker, as he began texting away on his phone.

“Is that Arch texting Jug?” Betty asked, swiping at her eye. “I can hear the clacking of the letters.”

Archie chuckled a sympathetic look and a soft smile on his face though Betty couldn’t see him. “It’s Jug. He’s a little worried about you.”

“I can’t see him right now,” Betty gushed out quickly, shaking her head erratically. “I can’t. My mother was trashing him nonstop and she just said it, like she was saying we needed to buy milk.”

Veronica frowned and leaned forward a bit, glancing over at Betty. “What did you say?”

“I said nothing. I didn’t deny it,” Betty whispered. 

Veronica thrust her hands up in triumph before clapping slightly, smiling over at her friend. “Betty! This is a good thing! Isn’t it?”

“No, V. It’s not. He doesn’t love me like that,” Betty cried out, shaking her head as Veronica wrinkled up her face in confusion.

“Did he say that?” she asked curiously. “Why don’t you just let him come in and you two can talk.”

“No!” Betty gushed out, wide-eyed and wild. “No, please. I’m not ready to do this yet. I need some time. Time to think.”

Betty pressed her hands together and slotted them between her knees, anxiously rocking on the bed.

“Why don’t you just lay down, Betty? Take a nap and clear your head,” Veronica suggested. “When you wake up this will have all passed and you’ll feel more normal again.”

“Yeah,” Betty muttered softly. “Okay. I’ll text you later. Thanks, guys.”

Hanging up the phone, Betty curled up on her side and hugged a Jughead’s pillow to her chest, drifting into a deep sleep.

In the other room, Jughead’s phone rang.

“Finally!” he said, a bit annoyed. “I thought you were going to keep me waiting all afternoon. You didn’t even answer my last three texts!”

“Ronnie had Betty on speakerphone,” Archie explained. “I heard what Alice said. But she’s convinced that you can’t feel the same. Truthfully I think she does know. I think she’s just afraid of the change like you are.”

Jughead sighed and closed his eyes, gripping the phone tighter. “Yeah, well you missed the part where I licked frosting off her hand and we almost kissed. That’s how Alice found us.”

“What?” Archie yelled into the phone, causing Jughead to jerk it back from his ear. “I did miss that part. And that’s a pretty big deal! She must be super consumed right now.”

Jughead sighed and rubbed at his forehead, already feeling a headache coming on. “So what do you suggest? Forget it ever happened? Try and erase the day?”

Archie shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know, Bro. Just let her calm down and talk herself through this. She’s been through a lot this month. Maybe think of a gesture… something to make her feel good.”

“Think of a gesture…” Jughead repeated, as if it was the dumbest thing Archie had ever suggested. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? Think of a…”

His voice trailed off and his eyes traced a path from the floor where he stared in thought for a moment up to the empty top of their Christmas tree. “Hey Arch? You wanna go antiquing tomorrow?”

December 21 

It had been two days since the incident with Alice and Betty had been a zombie since the incident with her mother. As Veronica had suggested, after her mother had left she had taken the longest nap of her adult life and woke up feeling even worse for wear. Her head still pounded and she was somehow still exhausted. The smell of popcorn had pulled her from slumber and when she peeked into the living room, she’d found Jughead on the couch, bowl in hand and a movie queued up as though he’d been waiting for her.

“I ordered Chinese when I heard you stirring,” he had explained. “I figured you’d be hungry. The popcorn can hold us over until it comes.”

Betty had stood unmoving in the entryway unsure of what to do or say, until he’d lifted an arm and the corner of the old, flannel blanket, signaling for her to join him. Her heart eased a bit then, knowing he wouldn’t push her to talk about things that night. Betty crossed the room and settled into his side, the night spent together in quiet comfort.

That was two days ago, and now their annual Friendsmas party was an hour away. Betty always looked forward to this annual party. With their friends scattered all over, it was the one guaranteed time a year they were all able to be together. Veronica’s place always looked like a festive scene right out of a catalogue and it made Betty feel extra merry. She also never minded the excuse to dress up a little bit, especially now that her daily uniform consisted of yoga pants and t-shirts.

Jughead had taken his clothes to the bathroom to change, claiming he didn’t need as much time to primp as she did due to his natural aura of allure. She was grateful he gave her space. The constant way he had checked on her, coupled with their two almost-kiss interactions had her a bit on edge. Looking in the full-length mirror, Betty tugged at the bottom of her green dress and tucked some hair behind her ear. Satisfied with her appearance, she added one more swipe of pink lipgloss before tossing the tube into her bag and heading out to gather the cookie platters she had packed.

Jughead was up against the counter, packing the plates into a large, reusable bag to make them easier to carry. With his suspenders on correctly and his dark blue dress shirt, sleeves-rolled-up, Betty couldn’t decide what looked more delicious, the cookies or her roommate. Shaking off the thought, she cleared her throat to alert him of her presence.

He turned to face her, taking in her outfit from head-to-toe. Betty smiled and blushed a bit under his gaze. “You looked nice all cleaned up, Jug,” Betty offered, hoping that the awkwardness Alice had brought about had subsided enough to say that. He hadn’t mentioned anything so Betty could only assume this was his graceful way of saving her dignity.

“I try, once or twice a year,” he grinned. “You look beautiful, Betts. I like when you wear green. It makes your eyes glow.”

Betty didn’t know how to respond so instead she rocked back-and-forth on her heels and grabbed the bag she had placed on the table. “Can’t forget my Secret Santa. Do you have yours?”

“It’s at Ronnie’s,” Jughead explained, turning back to the counter and grabbing the bags with the baked goods. “I went shopping with Archie so he just took it right there for me. Ready to head out?”

“Yeah. Yes,” Betty agreed. “Veronica hates it when we aren’t on time. She hates it even more when Cheryl’s early and I’m not there to serve as a buffer.”

“Why do we let her come?” Jughead asked wryly as they headed out the door.

“Toni,” Betty shrugged. “Can’t help who you love.”

“No,” Jughead said, muffled under his breath as he turned to lock the door. “No, you can’t.”

…..

“Way to be on time,” Veronica snapped, pulling Betty into her apartment roughly by her elbow. “I already had to listen to Cheryl criticize the shade of red my decorator used for the table linens this year.”

“The horror!” Jughead gasped, gripping at his heart, earning a laugh from Betty and a glare from Veronica.

Veronica took their jackets and hung them on the coat rack before sending Jughead into the kitchen with Betty’s cookies. “Give me your Secret Santa gift, B, and I’ll go stash it in the sitting room. No one gets to search for their gift until after cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. Then please go keep Cheryl busy before she starts judging the thread count of my napkins.”

Betty handed over Toni’s gift and made her way into the living room. Toni, Cheryl, and Reggie were already sipping candy cane martinis and Kevin and Fangs were mixing up some type of concoction at the bar. It seemed though they were just two minutes late. The only person they had beat there was Josie. 

“Cooper!” Reggie grinned, clapping as she walked into the room. “Looking gorgeous as always. Where is that somber creature you live with? Finally decide to leave him on Mount Doom and join the rest of us for a Festivus?”

Betty rolled her eyes. Jughead and Reggie may have actually been at each other’s throats in high school at times, but now their jabs back and forth came from a place of friendship, whether Betty understood that or not.

“It burns us!” Jughead cried as he approached the group, having heard Reggie’s jab. He settled his arm over Betty’s shoulders and turned to Reggie. “You can’t even be nice on Christmas? Just for one night? Maybe your heart will grow three sizes if you try really hard.”

“Don’t all these holiday lights burn your retinas as you crawl out from the dark hole you reside in?” Reggie jabbed back, laughing at his own quip.

Betty squished herself into Jughead’s side and flashed him a smile before addressing Reggie’s comments. “Everyone is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody. That’s deceit. Jug shows off his truths in complete transparency.”

“Mark Twain?” Jughead asked, grinning. “That’s the quote about darkness you go with?”

Betty shrugged as the two forgot the rest of the group and fell into their own banter. “I was going to go with Shelley, but then I thought ‘too dark for the holidays.’”

“There’s always Plato,” Jughead suggested. “He’s all about men showing their light.”

“I’m not sure how to take that last one honestly,” Betty teased as Reggie, Cheryl and Toni watched them, amused.

Reggie just shook his head as Jughead looked down on Betty adoringly, knowing Reggie wouldn’t taunt her for defending him. “I’m not sure what he did to earn your complete adoration Cooper, but you’re a lucky guy, Jones. You two are truly the same brand of weird, just Betty comes in a nicer package.”

“Speaking of packages,” Cheryl said quickly. “I can’t wait for Secret Santa this year. I may have finally found the perfect gift for Archie.”

“Cher,” Toni scolded. “You aren’t supposed to tell anyone who you have! That breaks the rules!”

Cheryl stuck out her hip and rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Jones already broke the rules this year anyway!”

Jughead’s eyes widened and he suddenly became very interested in the food Veronica had out before dinner. 

“Snack!” he blurted out suddenly. “I require sustenance. I’ll be back.” Darting over to the table, he made his escape before Betty could question what rule he broke exactly and why Cheryl and Toni seemed to know about it. 

The next hour passed quickly as Josie arrived and they all sat down in Veronica’s main living area to catch up on each other’s lives. With the hors’ d'oeuvres eaten, they settled back with cocktails as they chatted. Betty had been glancing over at Jughead as he sipped his beer, slightly worried about his demeanor. He had been extra quiet, not even choosing to bait Cheryl when she brought up the sad lack of pure red candy canes in the Christmas economy. All night he had been jittery, bouncing his leg up and down and shooting her small smiles or awkward glances. She hoped it wasn’t something he ate.

“It’s time!” Veronica announced, drawing Betty from her thoughts. “The moment we have all been waiting for has arrived! It’s time for Secret Santa! Now remember, this year we changed it up to add some spice to the mix. Your gifts are scattered around the room and the tags are not signed. Find your gift with your name attached and then try and figure out who chose it! Questions?”

Excited eyes met Veronica’s, but their lips were silent. With an excited clap, she rose from the armchair she was seated in. “Great! To the other room!”

Veronica, with Archie’s assistance, drew back the double doors to the den. The fireplace mantle was decorated with large garlands of green, red, and gold beads woven through along with sparking, bejeweled sprigs of holly. An eight-foot Christmas tree stood in the corner, decked out to match, and fake snow with tiny ceramic houses adorned every end table and windowsill. 

Having known each other for so long, none of them were shy. They raced into the room and began to scour each corner and crevice to find their gifts. Betty was the slowest since she took the time to examine each little snow village Veronica, or her decorator had displayed.

“Found it!” Cheryl cried out, excited to have been the first. Opening the red leopard paper she found the new lip kit from her favorite cosmetic chemist. “Holly berry red gloss, liner, and lipstick from Melandre Milana! This has to be from Josie!”

“You are correct,” Josie grinned, offering Cheryl a hug. “I know my girl!” 

Cheryl hugged her back squealing in excitement as Toni found her gift next.

“The Undertones?” Toni gasped. “And on vinyl! This is… this is beyond amazing! But who… I don’t remember telling anyone about this!”

With her back to Toni, Betty smiled. She wanted to turn around and witness her excitement but knew she would give herself away. She didn’t have to wait long.

“I’m sorry to the rest of you, but this gift has to be from Betty. No one else is this deep or thoughtful,” Toni reasoned.

Betty turned around, smiling wide, and nodded. “You mentioned how you and your Grandfather had bonded over this unlikely band and it had broken the ice to open up about things. I figured it was special so you should have a legitimate copy of the album.”

Toni swiped at her eye, cursing Betty a bit for ruining her make-up, and pulled her into a hug. “You can be an intense pain in the ass at times, Cooper, but you’re an actual angel. This is beyond words. Thank you.”

“Found mine!’ Kevin yelled, tearing open the Santa paper to find a bundle of merchandise from his favorite musical.

Betty had been so excited to see Toni open her gift she hadn’t even begun to search for her own. Weaving her way around the room she searched to no avail as Archie opened a guitar pick maker, Veronica found her spa robe and bath salts, Josie opened a portable thumb piano, Reggie got instant bottle chillers for his beer, a new pool stick for Fangs, and Jughead found an assortment of different flavored coffee beans.

As everyone figured out their gifter and thanked them profusely, Betty still could not find a package with her name attached. She was uncomfortably aware that she was the last one left and hated the thought that they’d all watch her open her gift. Even so, she found it odder that no one was teasing or helping her until Veronica stepped up beside her.

“No luck yet?” Veronica smiled wickedly.

“Help me?” Betty begged. “I feel like everyone is watching.”

Veronica glanced over her shoulder to find that Betty was correct. Though they staggered themselves around the room, they were all tossing glances her way. She shot them venomous looks and they all made themselves busy, Reggie suddenly very interested in the train set around the base of the tree, and Kevin and Fangs finding a sprig of mistletoe to keep them occupied. The only one not visible was Jughead who had backed himself up against a wall, one foot tilted back up and planted against the wallpaper as he nervously bit at his thumb.

They all knew about the gift. Veronica, so staunch in her secret Santa rules, had cleared the price breach with them, much to Jughead’s dismay. Everyone had been busting him privately all night.

With everyone now distracted, Veronica turned back to her best friend and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look up, B.”

Betty glanced at Veronica curiously before letting her eyes trail up the branches of the Fraser Fir in front of her, following the strands of white twinkling lights to the top, and her breath caught in her throat. 

A large, golden ribbon cascaded down the side of the tree with Betty scrawled onto the fabric, leading up to the very top of the conifer. On top of the branches was a golden, glowing angel. Betty’s antique angel. It was the same as the antique one at her mother’s house that had always reminded her of happy Christmases past. The same one she herself topped the tree with each year when her family was still whole.

Betty gasped and lifted her fingers to her lips as Veronica took a step back. Betty turned to her, eyes wide and soft. “I don’t understand. Who could possibly know about-”

She stopped herself mid-sentence and Veronica just grinned and nodded. She knew Betty had figured it out.

“There’s no way this fits the price limit, V. This is too much. Why- Why would he do this for me after everything else this year?”

“You know the answer to that question already, B,” Veronica said softly. “Maybe it’s about time you voiced your own thoughts on the matter. Go get some sugar, girl.”

Betty took another glance up at the angel and her heart swelled. Turning from the tree her eyes searched the room until she found him, up against the back wall, watching her from afar. Without a pause, Betty crossed the room, passing through Cheryl and Toni, an entwined Kevin and Fangs, and a grinning Archie, and stopped just in front of him.

“Jughead,” Betty breathed out. “That is… I don’t even… thank you. How did you even find it?”

Jughead shrugged nervously, taking his foot down from the wall and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“You, ah, you said it was made locally in New York so I accosted your mother and took a look myself. The stamp was from Binghamton so Arch and I took a ride out to the antique shops there and eleven stops in, we got lucky.”

“I can’t believe you did that for me,” Betty said softly. “It’s the most thoughtful…”

“I mean, it’s is ruining my reputation as a curmudgeon, but I just wanted you to have a good Christmas,” Jughead shrugged.

“Is that all?” Betty asked, searching his eyes that were now studying hers intensely.

Jughead looked pained. She could tell he was teetering on the edge, unsure of why to say or do, afraid to cliff dive, so she made the choice for him. 

“Jug,” Betty said hopefully. “I love it. I love it and... I love you. I love you-”

Betty’s words were all but swallowed as his hand slid around the back of her head into her hair and he dragged her lips to his own, ignoring the chants of “ Finally ” and “ It’s a damn Christmas miracle ” from around the room. For just that moment, nothing else existed in his world and there was peace on earth. His lips slid against hers lightly and soft, a solid yet sweet first kiss, before pulling back to rest his forehead against hers. 

“I love you, too,” he said, voice cracking a bit as he pulled her lips back to his own for a few quick kisses before remembering they had an audience.

They smiled goofy grins against each other and then Betty leaned in to whisper softly. “Hey, Juggie? Vamoose Caboose?”

Jughead winked and in a moment flat, he turned and headed for the tree, climbing quickly onto a nearby chair to grab the angel from the tree. As soon as his feet touched the floor, Betty took the angel and stashed it under one arm before she hopped on his back, Jughead hooking his hands under her knees and making for the door as fast as he could.

“Excuse me!” Veronica called after them. “Just where do you think you are going? No one leaves a Lodge party early!”

“Sorry, V!” Betty giggled. “I’ll call you tomorrow! I think we have some mistletoe at home that needs tending to.”

Veronica contemplated her words before nodding appreciatively. “I’ll allow it.”

Hightailing it down the hall, Jughead dropped Betty to the floor as they grabbed their coats and ducked out of the apartment, making their way back home as quickly as possible.

With the high of the moment waning, they entered their apartment quietly, almost shyly.

As they hung their coats, Betty flushed as he took her scarf for her, unwrapping it carefully before hanging it up beside his own before grabbing the angel she had carried home.

“e skipped out on dessert. You didn’t get any cookies,” Betty said as she moved towards the kitchen. “I’ll fix a plate with a good assortment.”

Jughead nodded and looked toward the tree, heading into the living room to wait for Betty.

Jughead placed the angel on the table just as Betty padded out of the kitchen, placing the plate of cookies down to snack on.

“What are you doing, Jug?” she smiled curiously.

“Come here,” he said softly, waving her over. 

Betty swayed her way over to the tree, puzzled. When she reached his side, Jughead leaned past her to pick up the angel and handed it over.

“You said your favorite tradition was putting the angel in the tree,” he explained. “Well, you’re up, Betts.”

Betty smiled radiantly, complete and utter appreciation in her eyes as he hoisted her up and she stuck the antique atop the tree, admiring the way the gold of the dress stood out against the green of the branches. The tree may not have been as magnificent as Veronica’s, but it was theirs.

Jughead lowered Betty to the ground and turned to look at her work, content that she was happy. He flipped himself onto the couch and Betty sat at his side, elbows brushing. Neither moved for a moment but instead swiveled their heads to look at each other, goofy grins spreading across their faces as they did.

“So, you love me, huh?” Jughead teased to break the ice. “Even though I’m a… what did your mom call me? A no-good derelict?”

“And you love me? Even though I’m an unemployed squatter on your property?”

“Guess we are quite the match then,” Jughead replied, shifting himself to face her more fully, breath a bit more rough as he swallowed nervously. “Whatever shall we do about it?”

Betty pretended to think, looking up towards the ceiling as she bit her lip before dropping her eyes back to his own. “I suppose we’ll have to keep each other,” she said, her smile from earlier returning as she inched closer. 

“I believe you mentioned mistletoe before,” Jughead whispered out, lips inches from her own now.

“I was wrong. We only have holly,” Betty breathed out, bracing herself against his knee.

Jughead lifted an arm, running a hand through her loose waves. “Do we care?” 

“Not at all,” Betty said as he closed the space between them.

Kiss after kiss, their lips slid together, tugging and gliding in a slow seduction for what seemed like hours. Though neither could recall how, at some point, they wound up horizontal on the couch. Betty’s arms were wrapped around his neck as his thumbs stroked soft circles on the apples of her cheeks. From slow and deep to heated and fierce, they both expressed years of affection without a single confession, letting their kisses convey their feelings. 

At some point, one, or both, pulled back, letting their noses brush as they held each other close. 

“If I knew that all it would take was a day fighting off old women in antique shops for me to get to kiss you, I would have done it years ago,” he teased, poking at her ribs. “Seriously, an old woman whacked me with her bag when she thought I wanted the china tea set she was after.”

“All you ever had to do was ask, Juggie,” Betty chuckled. “You didn’t need to get assaulted by a senior citizen. I would have kissed you just because it was a Tuesday.”

“Well, I promise I’ll kiss you every Tuesday,” he teased, punctuating his words with a stamp of a kiss. “And Wednesday. And Thursday…”

Betty giggled and nestled into his neck, happier than she could ever remember being. 

“No more faceless gingerbread, Betts,” Jughead murmured into her hair, playing with the strands he could reach.

“Oh, Jug. Without you, I would crumble…”

“Well, that won’t do. I’ll just have to work to bake your days better…”

“I’m a lucky girl and so grateful to have such a tough cookie on my side…”

“How grateful are you? Wanna give me a little sugar?”

“Powdered sugar is definitely on the menu,” Betty smiled to herself, kissing him again. “This is no longer a sugar-free home.”

“Hallelujah,” he joked back, their banter, and kisses, lasting late into the night.