Bughead Oneshots And Fluffs

One A.M. (BUGHEAD)

When Betty walked into Pop’s on a Tuesday night at one o’clock in the morning, she was not expecting to find him sitting there. It was a school night do she thought she would be safe, but night hawk as he was, there he sat. Jughead Jones the Third was sitting at a booth by the window with his back to her, and the rest of the diner for that matter. His silhouette was outlined by the glow of a computer screen and she could tell by the slump of his shoulders that he was either tired or troubled. Maybe both. Betty stood for a few moments, frozen, and contemplated whether or not she should go over and approach him. They weren’t friends, not really, would that make it weird? They were friends once, but that had ended shortly after the summer between eighth and ninth grade over some forgotten argument. While their fight had faded with the school year, they had grown comfortably into a routine of half smiles or casual hellos in the hallway, but never any real conversations or friendship had begun again. She could not speak for Jughead himself, but Betty was fine with this behaviour. That was until she walked into Pop’s Diner that night.

“Cooper? You there?” it was Hermione Lodge. She was standing near Betty, she must have moved passed the serving station when Betty didn't respond the first time. Maybe even more than once she had called to her, Betty couldn't say. Hermione had one hand extended as if to feel her forehead for a temperature. Betty blinked a few times, stepping out of the door frame and hearing the bells chime behind her, she shook her head to clear it. “You alright, Betty? Veronica told me you were out of it but are you feeling well?” Biting her lip, Betty nodded at Hermione and mumbled something between an apology and an excuse.

“Just...um...meeting a friend.” Betty, who was busy responding to Hermione didn’t see how the boy with the beanie cocked his head a fraction to the side at hearing Betty’s reply. With a large sigh, Betty urged her feet to move towards the booth that Jughead Jones was occupying. Betty hated the slapping sound her white flats made against the linoleum floor as she walked slowly in his direction. Jughead couldn’t see her through the curtain of raven colored hair that covered half of his face but he could feel her stop beside him. He let out a large breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He turned toward her slowly, as if in slow motion.

“Betty Cooper.” His voice was low and slightly rough, perhaps from fatigue, and Betty couldn’t tell if the small smile on his face was genuine or from some kind of amusement. Betty felt heat rise in her cheeks.

“Um. Hi, Jughead. Can I sit?” she gestured toward the seat opposite him. Jughead paused for a moment, observing her and Betty began to fidget, regretting coming over to him. Why didn’t she just leave? Or sit somewhere else? Jughead tilted his head to the side.

“Please. I can’t stop you.” Betty felt her breath catch as the slight smile seemed to slide of his face and hang there, more an entertained smirk than a grin. Betty wondered why that affected her, or why she noticed it at all. Jughead turned his attention back to the laptop before him as Betty slid into the booth. Closing the screen, he pushed his plate of half eaten french fries toward her. She shook her head and moved it back to his side of the table. Hermione Lodge came by and asked Betty if she wanted anything. Betty answered more to the floor than she did to Hermione or the boy across from her. She heard him sigh. “Betty may not want anything, but I’ll take a chocolate milkshake.” Hermione began to walk away. “Two cherries.” he called after her.

“Comin’ right up.”

Betty’s head raised a little as she looked at Jughead quizzically. At his words a memory had flashed in her mind. When they were friends and a few years younger they would come here, to Pop’s, and then to the drive in, where they’d sneak in through the broken fence that was behind the snack shack. When they went to Pop's Jughead would always order a milkshake. Chocolate was his favorite, though he usually got vanilla because that was Betty’s preferred flavor. Either way, he always ordered an extra cherry. One for him, one for her. Always. Now, sitting in this booth at the very, very early hours of the morning, Betty wondered if the boy sitting across from her and staring at her with a guarded sort of curiosity had ordered an extra cherry just for her. Betty told herself it was a coincidence. Nothing more.

“Whatcha thinking, Betts?” jughead said quietly, pulling Betty out of her brief daydream.

“Um.. I guess it’s just been stressful. You know with Polly and Jason and Cheryl, oh my God Cheryl is a menace! That's why I'm here, I suppose. How about you? Novel struggles?” Jughead nodded.

“Yes, the struggles for an angsty, teenage writer never end. And while that's all true, that’s not what you were thinking. What's up?” Betty laughed airily and smiled to herself. He knew her so well. Jughead raised a dark eyebrow at the giggling girl before him. He noted that she, like him looked sleep deprived

There were dark circles under her usually bright eyes and her skin appeared paler, even in the fluorescent glow of the red window signs. Jughead liked how the laughter that bubble up inside her seemed to bring back some of the color and spark he usually saw in her. Saw from afar, but was still visible. He frowned inwardly, remembering the distance that usually separated them.

“Oh, nothing. It's just that…” Betty trailed off.

“That…?” Jughead prompted.

“You know, this is going to sound ridiculous but I used to have the biggest crush on you.” Betty giggled some more and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the shiny countertop. Jughead froze. He didn't know what he was expecting but that definitely wasn't it. “Crazy, I know.” Betty said, misreading his stunned silence.

“Not really. As crazy it is that you liked me. I actually had quite the crush on you.”

“No way! Really? No. No way.” Betty shook her head and small strands of blond hair came out of her now loose ponytail. Hermione came by then and set down the milkshake in the middle of the table, though neither teen looked at the desert or the waitress. In unison they murmured their thanks as Hermione retreated to another table.

“Why is that so hard to believe? That I would like you?” jughead could feel himself smiling, though he had no idea as to why. Betty didn't respond at first. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the small droplets of condensation that were sliding down the smooth glass of the milkshake.

“Maybe because I'm just me. Just so normal. So girl next door. So, I don't know... beige. Maybe because I'm very used to the people I like not liking me back.” There was a silence then that stretched out between them. As the quiet began to grow uncomfortable Betty flicked her eyes up to the raven haired boy before her. She meant to look away, but his expression kept her sight glued. He was smiling. Full on smiling. “Juggi-Jughead,” Betty stopped herself from using the nickname she had used all last year, “What? What’s so funny?”

“Well, Betty Cooper, for one, you are the furthest thing from boring and normal. And that's a compliment. You may be the girl next door, but you are also so much more. Look at you! You are beautiful and smart and funny and kind, above all things! And definitely not beige,” he was ranting now but he didn't seem to notice or care, “As for being never liked in return, and I assume you mean Archie, you deserve so much better than him if he can't see that He would be lucky to have a girl like you in his life. Remember when we were friends? I was dumb to let you go and I've never stopped regretting that.” A profound silence followed his words. Betty only stared at him, unsure of  how she should feel. She tilted her head to the side and let the corners of her mouth pull up.

“Do you really mean all that?”

“Yes.” Jughead must have realised what he had actually been saying and he began to clam up. He stopped himself though when he saw Betty was smiling. A big, genuinely glad smile. Betty reached across the table and out her hand in his. The contact sent a wave of sparks through both of them.

“Hey, Juggie.”

“Yeah?”

“Grab a to-go cup. Let's go catch a movie.”