Gallows Humor 💀 Jughead Jones [DISCONTUINED]

FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

ICE CREAM SUNDAYS

When Sylvia Gale entered the Riverdale dinner the first thing she saw was Pop Tate, in his favorite condiment covered shirt and grease stained apron, with a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other, heading back to the kitchen. She smiled sweetly at the older man.

"Hey Pops," she greeted warmly. The cooks eyes warmed at the sight of the girl,

"Hey Curly-Q." His eyes flickered to Jughead, whose own eyes were scanning the dinner anxiously, and then back to her questioningly. She shook her head silently.

"Me and Jughead here-" the dark haired male looked to Sylvia when his name was said, "-Just have to ask one of your customers something for the school paper. D'you mind?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently as she, in a calculated manner, showed off the right right of her face where a deep dimple was located. 

Pop Tate rolled his eyes at the girl, a fond smile playing on his lips. 

"Five minutes," he told her, wagging a long, dark skinned finger in her direction. The tips of Jughead's lips turned upwards. Sylvia turned her chin upwards towards the bright lights and gave the man a cat-like smirk.

"I'll get it done in three." Pop Tate smiled widely at that. He let out a short breathy laugh and nodded.

"That's what I like to hear," he said before walking past the front counter and into the hot, delicious smelling kitchen Sylvia knew all too well.

Sylvia's eyes ran across the single chaired area at the linoleum counter and saw Derek Fisher, an old man eating a burger, and Carrie Underwood, a middle school girl whose father was the town doctor. Then she turned to the booths. 

She saw the back of a brown man getting up from his seat, wallet in hand, leaving his son to guard a small ice cream sunday by himself. Due to the fact the boy was wearing his usual attire- his scouts uniform, ascot included -it hadn't taken her that long to realise the boy Jughead had brought her along to scare was Michael Hendry, a fellow Freshmen. 

"Michael?" She asked, "We're trying to scare Mike?" Jughead tilted his head back and peered down the length of his nose.

"Yeah, why?" Jughead let the words die on on tongue but what had almost also come out was, 'What is he, an ex boyfriend or something?'

"Because he's a sweetie," she told him, as they walked up to the boy, "You don't have to scare Mike to get answers." 

"Hey Michael," Sylvia smiled. While Jughead took the seat across from the boy without asking Sylvia stood standing. Mike looked at Sylvia and smiled. Jughead took that as his opportunity to snag the boys cherry.

"What the hell man?" He sighed. Sylvia crossed her arms over her chest and smiled at the table,

"We want to ask you a few things Mike." The boy nodded dumbly.

"Bout what?"

"About," Jughead said, stealing the attention- and Mike's ice cream -away, "The way you looked at me. I saw the way you looked at me at Grizzly training. You're hiding something." Mike stole his ice cream back after Jughead lifted the spoon to his mouth. 

With a guilty look in his eyes Michael to Sylvia who gave him a hard but reassuring stare, "Tell us what you know Mike. Please."

"It's scoutmaster Doily. He's lying." Jughead, once again, stole the ice cream.

"About what?"

"The gunshot. He was teaching us how to shoot targets." Sylvia and Jughead's eyes widened.

"You mean to tell me," Sylvia asked with the usual amount of snark in her voice, "That Dorky Doily knows his way around a gun?" 

Michael nodded. 

"He's a hard core survivalist. He says if we don't protect ourselves no one will." Though Dilton Doiley and Sylvia had never actually gotten along Sylvia could agree with that; Darwinism, only the strong, those who could protect and fend for themselves, survive. 

Jugheads lips curled inwards as he looked up at Sylvia, frustrated. She rested a hand on his shoulder, making the boy look up at her, "Thanks Mikey." He smiled back at her kindly. 

"You're welcome." Jughead stood up, stuffing his hands deep in his pockets, clearly unhappy. Sylvia walked up next to Jughead, looping her arm with his so she could pull him back out onto the sidewalk. 

"Hey," she told him once boot hit concret, "Don't be frustrated, we got what we came here for."

"No I didn't." Jughead sucked in a breath through his nose as he started to pace the sidewalk, "Doley will never tell me anything!" He kicked a rock into the empty street.

"Course he will," Sylvia said plainly, "Because if he doesn't you can bet your ass Sheriff Keller will get an anonymous tip about some Grizzle Souts soutsmatser illegally firing weapons in the woods, near minors." Jughead turned to Sylvia with a large smile on his face and a bright light in his eyes. Like what she had just suggested was the equivalent to a child's dearly longed for Christmas present. 

And honestly, though she didn't know why, that look made Sylvia's body feel like it'd been set on fire. In a good way of course.