Riverdale Oneshots

November Rain

Summary: Some fluff written for Valentine's.

Hermione/Alice. Femslash. Rated T.

Hermione has always harbored a certain fondness for Alice's Serpent jacket.

She loves to see her in it. It sends a thrill curling through her every time her eyes settle on the leather, dark curls spreading across it like liquid, an emerald green snake emblazoned across the back to remind her of the power that comes with even a simple piece of clothing. Alice always stands tall when she wears it, as if she knows it earns her respect (despite how grudgingly it comes from a few choice groups), and while it is, in part, about the curves beneath the clothing, the way the rarely-noticed skin tight quality of it accentuates her natural beauty, Hermione's infatuation is more to do with the message the symbol sends. The obvious change to Alice's personality it brings.

Because, while Hermione treats her like a queen every time they come into contact, Alice truly acts like one the moment the jacket slips onto her shoulders. There is no-one better to wear the title than she, and she does know that, her pride never spilling over into cockiness, her aims for the Serpents never shifting into personal gain.

The way she'd first explained being in a gang to Hermione, cuddled together by the Latina's fireplace at the end of a dreary day in January, called it a community of people; a group in which any member could turn to any other, no matter the circumstances. Her thumb had been tracing meaningless patterns on the back of Hermione's hand, blue eyes shining passionately with sincerity to complement every word she spoke.

"We're a family, 'Mione. Not a cult."

Despite the rumors floating around school, they do not kill, they do not steal, and, perhaps most importantly to Hermione's mother, they do not deal drugs. The worst they ever do is fight, 'duel' as Alice calls it, and it is her self-proclaimed duty to keep it that way.

While Hermione had once considered being a part of a gang something to be ashamed of, Alice's patient telling of things, the integrity with which it was given, most certainly changed her mind. At one point in time, she'd followed exactly the same beliefs as her parents; that Southsiders weren't to be spoken to, acknowledged, or even looked at. That they didn't deserve her time. But then "trailer trash" Alice Smith entered her life without any kind of permission and turned it on its head, pulverizing her previous opinions with the dualistic nature of her personality. Kind-hearted, but able to frighten a person into hysterics with a single look, she'd had Hermione under her spell in as little as a few days.

She doesn't see the Serpents as miscreants, not now; she views them rather as a facet of her dearest love's personality, and all of that consolidates into the flash of pride she's come to feel when Alice wears her 'skin'.

Another thing she always gets a kick out of is the chivalry.

Hermione doesn't quite know what it is, but there's something about Alice that makes her a next to perfect girlfriend. She's always there with exactly what Hermione needs, an ear, a shoulder, a kiss. She loves to tell douchebags like Hiram Lodge exactly where to shove it, but in the next moment she'll turn around and kiss Hermione's hand, all concern and appropriately restrained sympathy; the perfect image of a doting partner. The blonde takes great pleasure in walking her home, making sure she gets there safely, sometimes even protecting her from her parents' probing questions.

Alice will never give her jacket to anyone but Hermione.

It's a prized possession. That much is clear. Important to her like an heirloom ring, it makes her feel safe, and to lose it would be devastating- like losing a piece of herself. It's an unspoken agreement, when a new Serpent gets her skin, that she protects it at all costs, never letting it out of her sight to the best of her ability. That's one of the honorary laws, and the one she cares most about observing.

But she just can't help it when Hermione shivers.

Despite her fiery personality, the flame Alice always sees in her in anger or passion, the Latina gets cold easily and always has. She can't stand to watch her suffer, even in such a small way, and the first time they'd walked to school together the previous September she came to realize that, along with just how much she cared (and inevitably still does). The brisk autumn air had whipped Hermione's curls about her and she'd run her hands up and down her annoyingly bare arms, cursing the weatherman's name in at least two languages before Alice had, as always, come to her rescue.

The moment the article of clothing had touched her shoulders, Hermione had breathed a sigh of relief, relishing the hands that helped to put it on her, and had been unable to help cracking a joke. After all, she knew just how much it meant, especially since Alice had been wearing nothing but a thin black tee underneath.

"Am I a Serpent now?"

And, of course, Alice had slung her arm around the brunette's back in true Smith fashion, chewing her gum more loudly than she'd needed to before spreading her free hand across the sky and responding with the snappy wit Hermione so loved.

"They'll treat you like a fuckin' queen if I tell 'em to, sugar. All you gotta do is ask."

She'd laughed. Alice had smirked. The leaves had continued to fall around them in reds and golds, littering the sidewalk, and they'd kissed, the perfect picture of a Hallmark holiday card (only about a hundred times more gay). Neither of them had thought to care about the world surrounding the moment, lost in their own bubble, and that would be a continuing trend for their relationship. Whenever Hermione's around, Alice loses focus regarding everything else, and she doubts that will ever change.

The memories they've made are beautiful, framed just slightly differently in each woman's thoughts, attached to moments and objects that would seem so mundane to anyone else. Their history is held, not in a book, but in a collection of places and items, and it's that much more special that way- that much more unique. Blonde and brunette, north and south, porcelain and copper; they work because of their differences, not in spite of them, and that, in Hermione's mind, is exactly as it should be.

No, she could never be a Serpent, but she serves perfectly as a liaison. The only one who can truly understand Alice, who can truly explain to others what she says and, conversely, what she means. And Alice, in turn, plays Hermione's conscience- she keeps her from falling into the dreaded trope of a cheerleader mean girl with her down-to-earth spirit and lecherous jokes, and, to the surprised disgust of many (that neither of them care about), it's exactly what she needs.

Alice is exactly what she needs.

And she doubts that will ever change.