Work Text:
There’s no scientific evidence to back it up, but Veronica is pretty sure loneliness is a genetic trait. Pushing people away, isolating herself; they’re habits that have been passed down from father to daughter, Lodge to Lodge, until it’s the end of the world and Veronica finds herself in her office, painfully alone. The scenario reminds her so much of Hiram that it makes her skin crawl.
As much as she wants to blame her dad for this, to say that if it wasn't for him then she’d be spending her last few hours on Earth with Archie or Betty or Reggie or a whole host of other former friends that she’s dropped over the years, she knows that this is her own fault. Veronica hates vulnerability, hates the way that it makes her feel flayed open and raw. Over the past few weeks, while she’s been spiraling over her newly single status, she’s lashed out at pretty much everyone she knows as a way to keep them from getting too close. It may have worked a little too well though, because no one even spared her a second thought when they were thinking about who they’d want to be with before the comet hit.
In another universe, Veronica likes to think that Reggie would be here with her, playing strip poker like they did when the power went out a while back. Or maybe she’d be at some sort of end of the world get together with Archie or Betty on her arm. In another scenario she imagines herself comfortably watching their happiness from afar, knowing that she’s surrounded by people who love her. Those universes might exist out there somewhere, but Tabitha would know, not her. The Veronica in this universe is still alone either way.
Her pity party is interrupted by the sound of her office door opening, and looks up just as Tabitha slips into the room.
Speak of the devil.
Veronica thinks that she locked all the outside doors after Babylonium closed for the evening, but she supposes it doesn’t really matter if Tabitha broke a window to get in.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing here?” Tabitha says with a soft, relieved smile, one that Veronica doesn’t really think she deserves.
“Well, it’s not like I had anywhere else to go.” Some bitterness creeps into Veronica’s tone, even as she tries to push it down.
The expression on Tabitha’s face seems to crumble in on itself, like she can’t bear the thought of how sad Veronica’s life is. It’s not quite pitying, but it’s close enough that Veronica feels a little offended. Before she can think of a witty reply that will sweep any lingering resentments under the rug, Tabitha is crossing the room to stand in front of where she’s sitting.
“There’s something I need to tell you, something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while but-” Tabitha gives her a bittersweet smile. “No time like the present, right?”
“Right?” Veronica doesn’t know what she’s agreeing to, but there’s something in the way Tabitha’s holding herself, in the tone of her voice, that makes Veronica feel like she’s about to hear something very important. With her luck, it’s more bad news.
Tabitha opens her mouth, about to continue, before closing it again. She crouches down in front of the chair Veronica’s sitting in so that the two of them are on the same level, and gently takes one of Veronica’s hands in hers. For absolutely no reason, it makes nerves swirl in Veronica’s stomach in a way she hasn’t experienced since high school, back when she kissed Betty at cheerleading tryouts on the first day of school.
“I like you, Veronica. I like you a lot.” Tabitha says.
Veronica still hasn’t gotten out of her seat, some part of her keeping her frozen in place. “What are you saying?”
It’s a stupid question; Veronica knows exactly what Tabitha is trying to say. But she has to make some attempt to scare her off, because right now it’s like Veronica’s chest has been cut open, her ribs cracked apart so that anyone can see her still beating heart, and if she doesn’t do something then Tabitha will be able to rip it right out.
“I’m saying that I think I could’ve fallen in love with you, if I’d gotten the chance.” Tabitha soldiers on like she doesn’t have Veronica’s heart in her hands, an earnestness in her voice that makes Veronica want to burst into tears.
Instead of doing that, she makes the even stupider decision to pull Tabitha towards her and press their lips together in a kiss.
Tabitha lets out a shocked noise at first, before wrapping her arms around Veronica’s waist to pull her in closer. The angle is awkward, and not very comfortable for either of them, so Veronica lets herself slide out of the chair and onto the floor, practically falling in Tabitha’s lap. She cups a hand around Tabitha’s jaw, and is about to deepen the kiss when a thought suddenly comes to her mind.
“Wait.” Veronica says, pulling away. “You’re in a relationship, Tabitha. I’m not going to play homewrecker.”
Guilt and shame swirl in Veronica’s stomach, because she should’ve known that this was too good to be true. Everything comes with strings attached. But for some reason, Tabitha just laughs, leaning forward to rest her head on Veronica’s shoulder in an attempt to hide her smile.
Veronica frowns in confusion, feeling a little mocked, until Tabitha looks up at her and says: “Jughead knows I’m doing this. Who do you think gave me the push to come talk to you?”
“Oh.” Veronica toys with the zipper on Tabitha’s jacket. “And he’s okay with this? You’re basically cheating on him.”
If she was in Jughead’s position, Veronica doubts she’d be so understanding. She’s always had a bit of a possessive streak.
“It’s the end of the world, Veronica. We’re allowed to cross a few items off the bucket list, do some things we’ve always wanted to do. Jughead’s doing the exact same thing.” Leaning forward, Tabitha presses their foreheads together. When she speaks, it’s barely a whisper.
“The real question is what do you want to do?”
Veronica lets out a shuddery breath and wraps her arms around Tabitha’s shoulders. There’s so much that she wants to do, that she wishes she could’ve done, but almost none of it is what she’d consider a bucket list item. With all of her carefully planned out life goals made obsolete, Veronica says the only thing that she can think of.
“Can you just kiss me again?”
Tabitha gives her a sad smile and nods, brushing a piece of hair away from Veronica’s face as she pulls her in close.