"Come on, Arch," Betty Cooper moaned into the back of her friend's threadbare couch. "You can't seriously want to go through with this. It was just a stupid bet and I lost for the first time ever ."

"We're doing this because you lost for the first time ever," Archie Andrews answered with a laugh from where he sat on the floor with his video game controller in his hand. He'd been engrossed in an online game of Call of Duty when she'd unceremoniously barged into his apartment and thrown herself onto his thrift-store furniture. "I never win. I deserve this. And it's New Year's. You can't back out now, Betts. You promised."

"How about I just set you up with one of my friends and we leave it at that?" she countered desperately. "If you're only insisting because you need a date, I can sort that out for you. No need to return the favour. I'll even make you guys dinner."

"Nope. I'm not letting you back out of this," Archie said firmly, frowning slightly as he realized turning down Betty's food was something previously unfathomable. He turned off the console and faced her directly. "You know it's not just about me."

Betty sighed dramatically and he knew he almost had her convinced. There was no way she would be able to deny him when he gave her the wounded Labrador face. He'd been using it for years and though it was something he knew not to over-exploit, when needs must it was unavoidable.

"Why is this so important to you, Arch?" she finally asked, quietly and without any of the dramatics she'd been displaying.

Archie didn't answer right away. They'd known each other since they were babies. They'd lived next door to one another, run countless lemonade stands together, shared one brief and truly unpleasant kiss in eighth grade, and when the time had come to leave Riverdale, Illinois and head to the Big Apple for college, they'd done that together too. She was his best friend and she was miserable. That meant he was miserable on her behalf.

"Betty," he began, "In the spring, you're going to graduate. Right after that you're gonna start that amazing job you've got lined up at WCBS. You're gonna be paid to be a journalist. Every goal you've set for yourself since you were twelve years old is gonna be accomplished. Every goal except finding a person to spend your life with." He sighed deeply. "And the thing is, you're not even trying. You go to classes or your internship at the station and then sit in your apartment every night alone. You don't come out with me unless I'm dragging you to one of my shows, and you turn down every guy who asks you out. You're my best friend and you're lonely. I may not be graduating summa cum laude from Columbia, but I know things."

It was tough talking to her like this. Archie remembered all too well the night of her sister Polly's wedding reception when Betty had drunkenly admitted that she was afraid that she was going to be doomed to be alone forever and living on the Lower East Side in an apartment full of cats because no one would ever be able to measure up to the kind of man she had built up in her head.

What was worse was that she hadn't exactly been subtle about her extensive mental list describing her perfect life partner. Archie didn't know where to find someone who liked that weird Capote guy and all that avant-garde cinema shit she was always talking about, but he knew his best friend's drunken plan was doomed from the start… largely due to the fact that she was allergic to cats.

At the time, Archie had silently agreed with her - at least the part about her unrealistic expectations of men. Sure she had more issues that Reader's Digest, but her biggest problem was that she never gave anyone a chance. Didn't even notice how pretty she was. Made herself so busy with school and work that she couldn't possibly date anyone.

No, it seemed that the perfect man for Betty Cooper was forever going to be a figment of her imagination. At least, he had thought that until a few weeks later when Archie had walked into a coffee shop, conveniently located between his apartment and the NYU campus, and the only table with an empty chair was inhabited by a teacher's assistant he'd had the year before for one of his throwaway electives.

Holding a copy of In Cold Blood, Jughead Jones had been still wearing the same dark gray beanie he'd had on in class despite the heat of a New York summer; his flannel shirt was tied tightly - and unironically - around his waist, and his suspenders hung down to rest on the smooth leather of the bench seat. While not friends exactly, the two men had spoken a few times since the class ended and with their reacquaintance- and later, close friendship -Archie had realized that he may have found the personification of everything his best friend was looking for in a weird, sherpa-jacket-wearing package. He just needed to find an opportunity to introduce them without one or the other running scared.

"It's not just about me, Betty," Archie repeated, thinking about how Jughead had already warily agreed to meet up with them for New Year's. "I think it's time you took a chance on something more solid than which gym to join or which borough you're gonna live in when you graduate. School's nearly over and you've managed to bypass almost all the typical college dating experiences. I'm not going to let you miss this. Jughead was practically made for you, Betts. He likes all the same stuff you do. He's tall. Reads all the time. Besides," he added with a hopeful grin, "You promised me a double date with one of your super-fine Columbia friends and I won't let you welch out."

With a heavy sigh and a dramatic roll of her eyes, Betty finally acquiesced. "All right, all right, Arch. I may have mentioned you to a couple of my girlfriends and a few sounded interested in my layabout best friend. You've got yourself a double date."

"Yes! " He grinned. The puppy dog face worked every time.

With less than an hour and a half until she'd promised to meet Archie in Brooklyn, Betty was working herself into a panic because Nancy hadn't yet arrived at her apartment and Betty was still waffling on what to wear.

Dressing for dates was something she needed a friend's advice for, and, considering the fact that her best friend was a dude-bro straight guy, she'd always relied heavily on her older sister's advice when it came to stuff like that. Polly though, was in Mauritius with her new husband's family and without cell service for a week. Betty had hoped to ask Nancy, but she was horribly late.

In order to fight the holiday traffic they had to catch an Uber any minute, but Nancy was still missing in action and Betty was torn between wearing a pair of strappy silver heels (was Archie's friend as short as he was? Would heels be intimidating? Would he think she was too aggressive? Flashy?) or the comfortable cream flats that definitely would not go with the soft, blue dress she'd picked for the evening.

Betty had been so excited when she'd found the sleeveless chiffon dress in the vintage store her friend Veronica had dragged her to the week before. It shimmered like the night sky, with little threaded sparks of silver throughout the navy and black. Betty loved the way it felt like a second skin and even Ronnie had mentioned that it looked like it was made for her... but maybe the fringes of silver and blue beads were too much for a first date even when it was New Year's Eve. Maybe Archie's friend would think she was trying too hard. They weren't going to a speakeasy after all. Without Nancy's help, she had no one to ask if it made her look desperate or needy.

Betty wasn't an idiot. She knew what Archie thought about her and why he was so insistent that she agree to go on this date. It was certainly more than just her losing a stupid bet, more than just trying to get her to experience some weird college right of passage, and he had never needed her help pulling the ladies before, so she knew he wasn't only doing it for that reason either. He was right: she didn't date. She didn't really even socialize much, though it wasn't because she was an introvert or anything. She wasn't at all. People liked her. She went to her classes. She went to her internship. She read on her balcony. She went to the gym. She ran in the park. Sometimes she volunteered at the women's shelter down on Bleeker.

Of course, other days she considered it a win when she made minor decisions about what kind of fruit to buy from Dom-the-Fruit-Guy on the corner, or managed to make it up the stairs to her fourth-floor walk-up without being crowded out by Sam-the-Building-Dog-Walker and the eight dogs he always seemed to have leashed with him on the stairwell. Those days, she pretended that she was completely at ease living in the city on her own. She filled her time as much as possible so she wouldn't have a moment to think about the looming hole in her life.

Frowning, she closed the bathroom cabinet and looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't feel less fulfilled as a woman without a boyfriend, and if she was being objective, she knew she was at the very beginning of what would probably end up being a pretty successful career... but she was in the greatest city in the world and she was alone. Although she was happy in almost every aspect of her life, she had no one to hold hands with when she walked along the East River. She had no one to share a pizza with at Rubirosa. There was no one to snuggle up to when the heat went out in her apartment. No one to bake for and no one to rub her shoulders after a long night in front of her laptop writing. No one to share her life with at all.

Maybe it was just the romantic in her, but she'd always loved the idea of having a soulmate out there - someone that she could connect with on that deeper level that defied explanation. Someone who made her feel like butterflies were erupting from her chest when he smiled at her and filled her with warmth and happiness when he held her hand. But that hadn't happened yet. She was so busy all the time, and she couldn't decide if that was the explanation or the excuse… so she'd agreed to Archie's ridiculous New Year's Eve double-date. Maybe he was right.

Of course, it wasn't going to be much of a double-date if Nancy didn't get her ass to the apartment to help her pick which damn shoes to wear. Checking the time on her phone, Betty frowned as a text message from the woman in question popped up.

NW: Sorry, girl. I know it's short notice, but I gotta cancel. Chuck surprised me and flew back to the city for NYE. Guess I don't need a date after all.

Staring at her phone in horror for a moment, Betty cursed silently and paused before taking a deep breath, tightening her grip on the phone in her hand so as not to resort to any anxiety-fueled self-harm. She'd spent too many years in therapy to have a set-back because of something like this.

She should have known that Nancy would tell her idiot of an ex-boyfriend that she was going to start seeing other people. Betty wondered vaguely how soon he'd booked his flight back to New York, and then frowned because she had to figure out some way to salvage this date.

Before replying, Betty snapped a picture of herself in the mirror - hair in soft waves pinned in a loose Gatsby updo, eyes smokey but not too smokey - and then took another of the two pairs of shoes and sent them to her friend.

BC : You owe me huge, Nancy Woods! But I'm glad Chuck's finally figured out what a catch you are. I'll figure out tonight but please help - which pair?

NW: Silver. Definitely the silver. You look so fuckin' hot, Betty. If I were into girls, I'd do you for sure. Chuck or not.

Betty laughed at the reply and wished her friend a good night and a Happy New Year before sitting down at the foot of her bed and texting the only other girlfriend she had in the city that she liked well enough to set up with Archie.

BC: Ronnie! I need you. Where are you right now?

VL: Hey B! I'm fine thanks. How's New Year's Eve treating you?

VL: Wait, you didn't back out on your date did you?

VL: Dammit, Betty. You said you'd give this a real chance.

With a roll of her eyes, Betty answered quickly to avoid further text messages expressing Veronica's irritation. The week before, Veronica had been her number one cheerleader when Betty had explained why they needed to brave the holiday shoppers to find the perfect dress. Her friend had gone on and on about how romantic a blind-date on New Year's Eve was and how she knew that Betty was destined to find her one true love if she'd finally just allow herself to have a good time. She'd even been the one to suggest Nancy - because she'd been having her own man troubles.

BC: Veronica. No time. I need a wingman for tonight. Nancy's back with Chuck. You didn't already agree to go out with Nick, did you? Archie will kill me if I have to cancel.

VL: I did. But he's being a bore and it's about time I meet your Archie. Do NOT cancel. Where are you guys supposed to meet up?

Betty's heart returned to its regular rhythm and she let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding. She finished strapping her silver heel and quickly texted back.

BC: Archie said to meet them at the William Vale in Brooklyn in just over an hour.

VL: You are so lucky I'm at Proletariat already. I'll ditch Nick and come pick you up.

BC: Are you sure you can leave? He's been trying to get you back for a year, Ronnie.

Veronica was relatively close by - definitely closer than if she'd been at her penthouse on Park Avenue. And while Betty felt terrible asking her friend to ditch her date in order to go on a different date with some guy she'd never met, if she was being honest Betty loathed Nick St. Clare and had said (more than once) that Veronica could do better than that simpering trust-fund asshole. She wasn't quite sure how well Ronnie would mesh with an aspiring musician from the Midwest, but she knew Archie would treat Ronnie better than Nick did anyway. Besides, Archie had seemed eager for her to meet his friend and she didn't want to let him down.

VL: Don't worry about it. I'll be there in fifteen. I'm not walking up those stairs though - I'll text you when I get there.

BC: You're a lifesaver, Ronnie. I promise I will love you forever and ever for this.

VL: Oh, silly B. You already do! Be ready. I'll see you in a bit.

Betty took one last look in her full-length mirror and smiled at herself. "Hello. I'm Betty Cooper," she whispered to her own reflection. She lifted a hand to her stomach to hopefully settle the butterflies that had found themselves trapped there. She was really doing this. It was just a date, but for some reason, it felt momentous. "Please don't let him be a dick," she murmured, just as the text from Veronica alerted her that the silver Town Car had arrived to whisk her towards her future. It was about to be a new year after all, maybe tonight could be the beginning of something great.

The fact that the rooftop bar on the 22nd floor of a random hotel in Brooklyn was this crowded at 9pm should have been an indicator to Jughead that he was so far outside his comfort zone that he wouldn't even be able to find his way back again if he tried.

The online reservation confirmation that Archie had forwarded to him had announced that their evening at the Westlight would include specialty cocktails, passed canapés, and live music from The Consummate Vintage. They were encouraged to 'cut a rug on the dance floor in the sky' as they rang in 2020 overlooking the Manhattan skyline and the celebratory fireworks.

Jughead was fairly confident that he had never 'cut a rug' in his life and he certainly didn't know what the hell a canapé was. As much as he'd promised to be his most charming self for Archie's friend Betty (seriously, who named their kid Betty in this day and age?), Jughead knew that at some point in the evening he was going to wish he was drinking something a bit stronger than diet cola.

He tried not to glower at every passing server and fellow party-goer. It wasn't their fault he was nervous. He never went on dates - definitely not blind dates - but Archie had spent the better part of three months talking up this girl. Jughead found it hard to believe anyone could be as flawless as his friend had described, but despite his distrust of seeming perfection he couldn't help but be fascinated by the tale of the Midwestern sweetheart who left her small town to face the big city essentially on her own.

When Archie had suggested casually (but not so casually that Jughead believed for a second that it wasn't completely contrived) the idea of a blind date on New Year's Eve, it was only the curiosity that made him a good writer that had persuaded him to agree.

That's how he found himself leaning on one of those tall tables encircling the central bar beside floor-to-ceiling windows and gazing out at the sparkling lights of Manhattan, Queens, and parts of Brooklyn. The view was amazing. The wait was not.

Leaning over to Archie, who was not so subtly making eyes at several girls standing together at the bar, Jughead said, "Hey, loverboy, do we need to meet them downstairs?"

Archie at least had the wherewithal to be bashful. "Nah, I gave Betty the tickets before I went home for Christmas. I'm going to see if our table is ready. You keep an eye out for them here in the bar. Betty's never late. They should be here any minute."

Well, that was helpful, Jughead thought sourly. The only picture Archie had shown him of this girl was one he had tried to take while being stealthy a few weeks ago. It had featured a pretty girl - at least Jughead figured she was pretty behind a hand that was lifted in warning to block the shot. He knew she was blonde and had at least one green eye, so that was promising. Archie had offered to pull her up on social media (probably to prove she had two), but Jug was loathe to believe anything that anyone posted about themselves online so he'd just agreed to the date without.

Now, as he sat staring at the entrance to the restaurant, he wished he'd been more inquisitive. Wasn't that what their generation did? Stalk one another on Facebook? Instagram? He vaguely wondered whether she'd tried to do the same for him; he hadn't asked Archie what he'd told her about him. That sudden thought worried him more than he wanted to admit, but as he was pondering it, all trains of thought in his head virtually halted when an actual angel walked into the bar.

Her blonde hair gleamed under the glittering lights overhead and the dark blue and silver fringe on her dress sparkled as she walked. She turned to a smaller dark-haired woman beside her and said something he couldn't hear over the din of the crowd around them. He could see her stop near the bar and look around the room, probably for her boyfriend or something, when her gaze caught his and she paused mid-word.

Her eyes were green. So green.

And there were two of them.

Jughead found himself holding his breath and unable to look away from her face. Her friend must have ordered a drink for her, because after what felt like hours but was probably only a few seconds, a tall glass full of cloudy yellow liquid was thrust into her hand and she was forced to break their connection to take hold of it.

His own attention was pulled away when Archie returned, jovially slapping his hand on his friend's back. "Oh, there she is," Archie said loudly, his grin widening as he waved the blonde and her friend over. "On time just like I told you."

Jughead's heart started pounding in that ridiculous, overly dramatic kind of way that he refused to write about for fear that the cliche would make even his most romantic readers roll their eyes."That's her?"

"Yeah, bro. You're gonna love her," Archie continued, completely missing his friend's reaction in order to ogle the tiny brunette walking along with Betty. "And I'm gonna love her friend. Kisses at midnight - I'm callin' it now. Maybe even breakfast if we're lucky."

Jughead managed to contain his snort as they waited for the two women to smoothly move through the crowd toward them. He took another pull from his glass, unable to keep his eyes off her. She was staring back and it made his face heat up.

"You made it," Archie said easily, setting an arm on Betty's shoulder as he leaned in to kiss her cheek in greeting. "And this is… Nancy?" He reached a hand out to the other woman, who took it, obviously charmed already.

"Oh um. No. Nancy couldn't make it. This is Veronica." Betty gestured to her friend. "Ronnie, this is Archie. He's been my best friend for longer than I can remember."

"Since we were naked in the kiddie pool, Betts," Archie intoned with a chuckle and a dramatic wink to Veronica. "She never tells people that part."

"Gee, I wonder why," Betty returned dryly in amused exasperation before braving another look at Jughead. "And this is?" she asked, her voice could only be described as breathless… but maybe that was the lack of oxygen to his brain talking.

Somehow he managed to find his voice, "Jones. Jughead Jones." Great. In his attempt to sound casual he ended up sounding like a British spy. He began calculating the likelihood of the earth opening up and swallowing him until Betty gave him a blinding smile.

"I'm Cooper. Betty Cooper." Her cheeks were pink but her smile was delightful and her hand was soft in his. Jughead found himself thinking of all the various ways he wanted to write about her. Golden and beautiful. Absolutely captivating. More than an angel. A literal goddess.

"So, they told me our table's waiting for us," Archie carelessly interrupted their moment. "Should we go find it?"

Veronica nodded, a broad smile spreading across her face as she set her pink fruity thing down on a tray the waiter was holding for them and slipped her hand around a beaming Archie's proffered arm.

It was clear to Jughead that Archie was not nervous about this blind date at all and for a split second he actually envied his friend. He kept it together, but just barely. "Lead the way, Arch," he answered, clearing his throat and stepping alongside Betty.

Without thinking about it, he lifted his hand to the base of her back and guided her gently through the throng of fellow revellers. She appeared to tense for a second and he wondered whether he'd crossed some kind of 'first date' etiquette line but then he felt her melt into his touch and when Jughead looked down at her she had this soft look on her face.

He wondered whether he was mirroring her expression and then decided that - despite it being against his "brand" - he didn't mind. They arrived at their table and Jughead didn't want to stop touching her but he managed to pull out Betty's chair and let the waiter hand her the golden glass she'd deposited on his tray before he sat down beside her.

Betty turned to him and looked as though she was about to say something, but closed her mouth, blushing pink, and lifted her glass to her lips instead.

Jughead smiled softly at her. For the first time in his life, Jughead had trouble finding the right words. He wasn't expecting this at all.

"So, um, you're finishing up at Columbia?" Small talk usually started with jobs right? Or school? Archie had told him a few things about Betty, and he tried vainly to fit them into a coherent conversation but his heartbeat pounding in his own ears made it impossible. She was so beautiful, he wanted to pull his beanie down around his face so he could think.

Betty nodded. "I finish up in the spring with my Masters from the Journalism School. I went in intending to go into print journalism but I got an internship with a television station and they offered me a job after graduation. What about you? Archie says you're a writer?"

"Umm. Yeah. Yes," he stumbled, looking first to Betty beside him, and then over at Veronica and Archie, who seemed engrossed in quiet conversation - all smiles and soft flirty touches. "I write novels."

Her smile widened, her attention only on him. "You do? That's amazing. Have you published anything I may have read?"

It was an easy question and one he'd answered countless times - although, he had never been asked by anyone he wanted to impress more than he wanted to impress her. He could feel his face heat up under her eager, questioning stare and he shrugged, flashing a self-deprecating smile before swirling his glass just to have something else to look at. "Depends. I write spooky stories marketed for middle grades and teenagers. How do you feel about Young Adult fiction?"

"Seriously?" Impossibly, her eyes seemed to brighten and she excitedly reached out a hand to lightly rest it on his arm. "Spooky stories for teenagers are totally my guilty pleasure... though I guess it's one that I don't really feel all that guilty about. Am I being too dramatic if I tell you I have more than one bookshelf dedicated to 'screaming staircases ' and 'ghosts dressed in blood'?"

Jughead heard himself chuckle and the rest of the room faded away as he looked only at her. "Well, my guilty pleasure is twisting Victorian ghost stories into fables about the horrors of capitalism and the pitfalls of human greed. Just don't tell any of the sixth graders that," he grinned. "When I've gone for school visits, I just tell them about scaring my little sister and they're much happier with that explanation."

"Was that why you started telling stories? For your little sister?" she inquired, twisting her finger around a loose piece of blonde hair. She still hadn't lifted her other hand from where it was resting on his arm and Jughead found it difficult to focus on anything else but the heat from her touch.

Instead of hedging or giving her the literary agent approved answers he found himself nodding. "We were home alone a lot," he explained, not wanting to delve too deeply into his family history on a first date. "Of course, it's not what I went to school for. I thought I was going to write the next Great American novel." Jughead laughed at the pretentious douchelord he must have been after his undergrad. "One of my final assignments as I was finishing up my first degree was to write a ghost story for a child. I remembered back to when I told my sister stories and it just poured out. By the time I started my Masters, I had a whole series."

Jughead never spoke about himself this much. He was sure he was going to freak her out... but when he looked up at her, she was staring so intently at him, absorbing every word, he couldn't stop himself. "I started assisting for this professor who was also an editor with a publishing house. She cajoled me into publishing the series as I was working on my Masters and by the time I was done, I couldn't remember why I'd been so insistent that the world needed another Kerouac."

"That's amazing, Juggie," she beamed, and he found himself smiling at the nickname more than he could ever remember doing before. "I want to read all of them. Would that be weird?"

He promised to bring her a copy of his first book on their second date and revelled in the way the pink flush rose to her cheeks when he said, if she played her cards right, he might even sign it for her.

That led their conversation to the summer internship she'd participated in when she was still in high school. Betty could hardly keep herself from blushing as she told him how she'd tripped over herself when she met her literary hero Toni Morrison and managed to forget to have her sign the paperback copy of Beloved that she'd brought all the way from Illinois for that express purpose.

He found himself absentmindedly staring at her lips while she spoke. Jughead had never felt so content to listen to another person speak passionately about what they loved. He listened to her words and decided that it would be his pleasure to watch her speak for the rest of his life. He was entranced by the way she moved her mouth and was certain the look on his face was similar to one for which he'd harassed Archie more times than he could count. But Jughead couldn't find it in himself to care. He was spending time with an angel.

Eventually, the waitress came for their order, but even once she brought it to them Jughead found it hard to concentrate on the amazing spread of international street food when Betty was sitting beside him, her leg and shoulder leaning against his as she not-so-stealthily stole the herb fries from his cup, giggling madly when he'd catch her fingers with his own. Finally, he just set the dish between them and she happily dipped them in the spicy mayo, and he made an attempt to eat his burger without spilling half of it down his front.

Once their dishes were taken away and their drinks refilled, Jughead wondered why all his conversations didn't flow as easily as this one did, and he wondered whether it was because they'd always been with the wrong person. The pair even forgot Archie and Veronica were there until the music grew louder and one of them mentioned that they were getting up to dance.

He watched Betty's eyes follow their friends onto the dance floor and in a wholly uncharacteristic move, he slid his hand into hers and pulled her closer. "Dance with me?" he asked, his eyes hopeful, turning to pleased, when her cheeks turned pink and her grip tightened in his.

They stayed near the edge of the dance floor, close to the wall of windows looking out over the skyline. With her arms secured around his neck, it was easy to get lost in the music. The songs changed but they took no notice, simply swaying together slowly, no matter the tempo.

Everything felt overwhelming in the best possible way. From the moment Betty had seen him across the room, time stopped and she felt warm all over. Each moment he spoke to her - laughed with her - even when he was adorably awkward, endeared him to her and she felt like her missing pieces were being fitted together with his rough ones. Archie was never going to shut up about this but she couldn't find it in herself to be mad about it. She could tell, this was worth the risk.

Softly smiling, Betty found herself humming along with the band, her eyes closed and her temple resting against his chin. "So I smile and say, 'When a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes.'"

Jughead pulled back gently and raised a hand to her face, his thumb strumming softly against her cheekbone. "Beautiful," he murmured and Betty blushed once more. She hadn't realized she was singing until that moment.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

"That's another bet you would lose, Betty Cooper," he countered, the corner of his mouth lifting, "Also-"

The volume of the crowd around them increased. Somewhere, Betty could hear people counting down, and fellow revellers were making their way onto the terrace to prepare for the fireworks, but she and Jughead barely moved at all.

Breathlessly, Betty looked up at him through her lashes, "What?"

Instead of answering, she watched him take a deep breath before leaning in and pressing his mouth against hers. At first he seemed almost tentative - nervous - but when she tightened her fists around his suspenders and pulled him closer to her, Jughead lifted his other hand and cupped her face completely. It seemed never-ending, one gentle kiss leading into another until she opened her mouth and let him in completely.

Time stopped. She could hear the popping of the fireworks over the harbour and it was only when an eruption of light flowered over their heads that Betty pulled away just enough to look into the blue of his eyes and the happy, contented smile on his face.

"I've never… I don't know how to do this." Jughead's voice was raspy, out of breath and out of his mind. He nuzzled his nose along hers and smoothed his hands across her back as he held her close to him.

She let out a breathy sigh and smiled. "You're doing really well."

He chuckled and leaned down to capture her lips once more. Betty felt warm all over, and instead of butterflies, she felt an overwhelming sense of peace and joy that nearly brought tears to her eyes. This was better than what she'd ever hoped. Her soft fingers rested gently on the side of his face until the kisses stopped and they were merely breathing in each other's air.

"Hey, guys," a voice echoed through their bubble, and it took them a few seconds to connect that it was a smirking Archie speaking to them. "Ronnie and I are thinking about heading out. She heard about this great open mic thing on the Upper West Side, and she thinks we can just make it if we leave now. You gonna be okay?"

Betty felt her face heat up, nodding as she looked up to the man who was still holding her in his arms. Her heart felt so full. Jughead looked about to say something but paused, instead waiting for her to answer their friend.

"Go on. Don't worry about us, Arch," she said warmly, pulling almost regretfully out of Jughead's embrace. She turned, leaving a hand touching his arm behind her as she gave Archie a half hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for everything," she murmured, continuing a bit louder when she moved back. "Now, make right choices, fella. Get her home before morning."

"Oh, he will." Veronica, standing behind Archie, gave them a cheeky grin. "Might even be invited for breakfast."

Betty laughed and cuddled back up against Jughead's warm chest, happy when she felt his hands rest around her waist and his chin set beside her temple. She knew there was a dish session with Veronica in her future, and for the first time since moving to the city, she was looking forward to it. Of course, she would need to come up with a creative way to avoid hearing too many details about her childhood best friend and any form of nudity, but she was excited to giggle outrageously with Veronica about the cause of this newfound wave of happiness and joy washing over her. "Well, Archie can pack in the pancakes so I hope your chef is prepared."

Archie's eyebrows raised and a devilish look spread across his face. "I'm sure yours are better, Betts. Jughead, did you know my best friend here makes the best pancakes this side of Chicago? I know how much you like breakfast food."

"I like all food, loverboy," Jughead deadpanned, the pink in his cheeks darkening at Archie's teasing. It was clear to Betty that, unlike their red-headed friend, Jughead did not make a habit of having breakfast anywhere but his apartment or maybe the diner down the street.

"Convenient, Jug. It just so happens that Betty knows her way around a kitchen." Archie laughed in delight. "Match made in heaven, if you ask me."

A laughing Veronica held her hand out to pull Archie along with her and he followed, but not before tossing them a lascivious wink. "Be good, kids," he called back to them, causing Jughead to snort and roll his eyes at Archie raising and lowering his eyebrows dramatically. "But not too good."

It wasn't exactly silent when their friends left, the crowd was still milling about dancing and celebrating, but Betty couldn't hold back her happy giggle as she turned her head against Jughead's shoulder and murmured softly. "So, you like to eat, huh?"

Jughead chuckled and kissed the side of her head. "I do, and I never ever share."

"You shared with me." She thought of the fries she'd stolen and smiled.

"You're special," he affirmed, turning her in his arms. Now that he was allowed to touch her, she could tell he was going to take every opportunity.

"Well, I do make really good pancakes," she said, her eyes twinkling. "I'll have to make them for you some time."

Sliding her arms up, Betty relished in tangling her fingers in the messy curls at the back of his neck, before pulling him down to kiss her again. She knew this was barely their beginning and it was too soon to be even thinking it, but she could already picture them eating ice cream and walking hand in hand in Central Park, getting lost together in the Strand trying to find books they hadn't read yet, and holding each other close making pancakes in her apartment with flour on his nose and the summer sunshine pouring through the picture windows.

Happily, she hummed, nipping at him before pulling back to rest her forehead against his. "Jughead?"

"Yeah, Betts?"

"I'm really glad I came tonight."

"I'm glad too."

"Happy New Year, Juggie."

He didn't answer her, just leaned in, pressing his mouth to hers once more.