Regret. I'm already regretting that I've agreed with what Veronica has proposed. The son of Riverdale's notorious criminal finding his way to the penthouse of its new Queen Bee. To anyone looking in, it would be cause for scandal - or jealousy. But to Veronica, it was just a new source of amusement.

I'm not exactly sure why I agreed to it. Perhaps the pumping adrenaline from breaking into city hall in the middle of the night? The opportunity to discover just what the Lodge's are hiding? Or maybe I just want to screw over my father. Whatever it is, I'm not sure living with Veronica is the best way to go about it.

But she is insistent, even as my regret becomes more obvious. By time we arrive at the steps of her penthouse, I'm literally dragging my heels as she drags me along by the sleeve of my jacket.

"Oh Juggy," she laughs as she leads me up the steps. "You'll love it here, and how better to find out just what our respective parental units are up to?"

Much to my chagrin, I know she's right. I'll be getting unrestricted access to the Lodge family, something I doubt even Betty Cooper could manage, at least not yet.

I'm not sure what I expected before I walked into Veronica's penthouse, but a sleepy eyed butler definitely wasn't high on the list. Despite the laundry list of legal problems that the Lodge family was living through, they still managed to employ a butler. Damn.

"Evening, Ms. Lodge," the tuxedo clad man says, still ready to serve even late in the evening.

So much for sneaking around.

"Good evening, Smithers," she says with a coy smile.

"I did not prepare for a guest," he informs her. Not to scold, but simply to bring to her attention. It's a weird interaction.

"That's okay," Veronica says, her voice as sweet as a song. "I'm sure Jughead will be fine with the guest room as it is."

I say nothing during all of this. What can I say to a Manhattan socialite and her butler that would make this whole thing any less insane?

"I can show you to your room then, Mr. ... Jughead is it?" Smithers says as he eyes me up and down.

"The third," I tell him, and Veronica is the only one to crack a smile.

"I can show him," Veronica says, her smile never fading. The butler is protective of her, that much as clear. The rich have plenty of people to be protective of them, even over those who have lost their wealth. Not that one would guess that of the Lodges, not with the vaulted ceilings, designer furniture, and expensive art that fills their Riverdale home.

"This way, Juggy," Veronica coos at me as she leads me deeper into her home. She breezes through her domain, light as a feather and yet below the surface I know she has the capacity to be as vicious as a cobra. Here though, in her gilded cage, she is content and smiling as she gives me a tour.

"This is the main bathroom," she says, guiding me through like we're in a retro episode of MTV's Cribs. "And the sitting room is over there," she tells me with a point of her perfectly manicured finger. "Through here," she tells me as we push through a galley door, "is the kitchen. "Grab whatever you want from the fridge, whenever."

If I weren't paying attention, I'd be quick to judge her offer as charity. But that isn't Veronica. Though not from the most humble of beginnings - not even close - she's nothing if not genuine. Her offer is strictly a mix of kindness and the markings of a good hostess. Nothing more.

Her voice lowers as we work our way down the hall. "This is my room," she says as she points at a closed door. "At the end of the hall is my mom. And this," she says as she opens a third door, "is your suite."

I'm not sure what I was expecting when Veronica opened her home to me. A couch would have been plenty enough space for me, and in a home like this, probably more comfortable than any bed I'd ever known. But when that door opens, I go from some apprehension over my acceptance of her offer, to powerful regret.

"Veronica, I can't sleep here," I tell her.

She pouts. "Why?"

I don't know how to put it into words. There is nothing inherently wrong with the room. Nothing offensive, nothing startling, nothing obtrusive. It's simply...

"It's too much," I tell her. That is exactly the answer. The room itself is elegantly, yet simply designed. White furniture, grey bedding, fancy pillows, authentic art on the walls. Despite the simplicity, or perhaps because of it, the room screamed luxury.

"Oh Juggy," she says with a soft laugh of reassurance. "It's just the right amount. Now stop complaining and get in there! I want you rested and ready for tomorrow."

"I thought we were coming back here to find out what your mother is up to," I tell her. Not that I'm not tired. I haven't had a cup of coffee in hours and my caffeine levels are dangerously low.

"Tomorrow," she tells me. "After school. My mom works afternoons at Archie's dad's place now. We'll have a couple hours to tear this place apart."

"Right," I say as I eye her suspiciously. Her easy, relaxed charm covers up all manner of sins. "And what about Lurch out there?"

"Smithers?" she laughs. "I'll take care of him, don't worry. Now," she says as she straightens my collar. "Sleep. It keeps the mind sharp."

Without giving me another chance to protest, Veronica disappears down the hall and into her own private room. For the first time, I'm alone in her home and what is - temporarily - my room. My plush, luxurious room.

I can feel my lip curl up at the idea of sleeping in a place like this. I've known couches, benches, cots, the old single bed that Jellybean would crawl her way into after a nightmare, and everything else in between. But a king sized bed? That's a new one for me.

As habit dictates, I rest my pack on the foot of my bed. There's a walk-in closet open and inviting, but I don't plan on staying long enough to need to unpack. Besides, what I have in my backpack would fill maybe a tenth of the space of that closet. Not worth my time.

Reluctantly, I sit down on the bed. It's not as plush as I imagined, but in a good way. There's enough give that I can bounce in place easily, but I can tell that it's got the kind of firm support that I've only heard about in commercials.

Kicking off my shoes, I let myself fall backward onto the bed. In spite of myself, I smile as the soft, pillowy duvet envelops me in warm comfort. The bedding carries the soft smell of lavender that wafts around the room as I curl up in the bed, not even bothering to pull off my clothes.

"Betty is going to flip when she hears about this," I laugh to myself. The thought that Betty is the one I want to tell about this comes as a surprise to me, but I'm too tired to read too much into it. It's a product of my overtired and overwired brain.

My body doesn't give me the chance to think about that, or anything, for very long. Before I know it, the morning sun is coming in through the window and someone is knocking at my door.

For a heartbeat, the panic of not knowing where I am hits me, but quickly dissipates when I look around the room. Veronica's house, in her spare room, plush bedding all around me. At some time in the night, I've pulled off my jacket, shirt, and pants, leaving only my boxers behind so that I can enjoy the softness of the overindulgent bed.

"Juggy!" she calls, her voice not as pleasant as it was the night before, but not angry either. "Get up!"

"I'm up," I call back as I pull back the covers and sit up. "I'm up!"

"Good," she says as the door flies open right as I stand up.

Her shock is as evident as my own when she enters the room. In unthinking reflex, I grasp around the bed for my discarded clothing, and Veronica is stopped dead in her tracks. It's a hilarious tableau, or would be to anyone watching. For me, it's not exactly funny.

Veronica's silence lasts only a second before she's back to her shrewd, collected self. "We're going to be late for school," she tells me as she flips her hair. Despite the early hour, she's perfectly polished, manicured, and done up. I wonder how early she had to get up to be that put together, but toy with the idea that she never isn't that put together. "Do you remember where the bathroom is?"

"Um, yeah," I grumble as I pull up the duvet to cover myself.

"Good," she says as she looks me over. Not to be judgemental, but in that teasing, ever flirting way that she does with everyone. It's not reserved for anyone, not even Archie Andrews, despite how I'm certain she feels for him. "Make sure you put something on before you head down the hall. You don't want to give Smithers a shock."

I roll my eyes as she leaves the room and pull on a t-shirt and jeans once I'm alone. Veronica as a roommate is so far going pretty much along the lines of what I expected, but I'm not as annoyed as I expected to be. If anything, it's a nice change of pace from what I'm used to.

After a hot shower that I let go long enough that Veronica starts pounding on the door, I get myself dressed in the cleanest thing in my pack. The rest of my things I stuff back in my bag and sling over my shoulder before I emerge from the bathroom.

"Are you bringing that with you?" Veronica asks. She's taller now, having slipped on a pair of what I have to assume are designer heels.

"Yeah," I tell her.

"Don't," she says, her tone flippant and light. "Just leave it here. You're staying for a while, right? So act like it."

She doesn't give me a chance to argue. That's not Veronica Lodge's style. She has a way of bulldozing over people without them even realizing it's happening. Between her beauty, elegance, and charm, it's easy to ignore the fact that she's cunning and fierce as hell. All qualities I have to admit I admire.

Walking into Riverdale High is a different experience when you enter with Veronica Lodge. I tried to walk ahead of her, to go faster to not have the whole school see us walk in together, but the girl can book it in those heels. All heads turn as she walks in beside me, and I can imagine the whispers already.

"Juggy, Veronica, hey," Betty's voice stops me and I turn to face her. Suddenly the skin under my neck is a little warmer than I remember as I catch her pretty blue eyes. After a night with Veronica - well, not with Veronica - it's nice to see Betty.

There's a touch of confusion on her face as her eyes glance between me and Veronica. Us showing up at school together doesn't necessarily mean anything, but Betty is smarter than most and has a detective's mind. If anyone is going to wonder if something is up, it's her.

Betty isn't the only one examining the situation. Veronica's eyes glance back and forth and devilish smile tugs at her painted lips. "Hey Betty, did Jughead tell you?" Veronica purrs. "He's my new roommate!"

"Juggy?" Betty asks, confused but not mad.

"Just for a little while," I admit, careful to keep my voice low. "After we saw Veronica's mother, she asked if I could help her find out just what she's up too."

Betty's face lightens some. "Oh, good idea," she says with a nod and her ponytail bounces. "If she's hanging around with the Serpents, we need to know why." She looks at Veronica and adds, "Just to make sure she's okay, of course."

"Oh Betty," Veronica tisks. "I love my mother, but we all know that's not the only reason. Now come on, Juggy," she adds, using the pet name Betty uses for me, "we'll be late for English."

It isn't until we reach the classroom door that Veronica pulls me aside before I can enter.

"What was that about?" she asks me, her big brown eyes blinking at me.

"What was what about?" I squirm.

"You and Betty!" she whispers at me. "And don't deny it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say, and this time I'm the one doing the bulldozing. Before she can roll me over, I pull away and march into class. She's brazen enough to call me out during class, but I don't think she will. She's got a nose for dirt, and I hate knowing she'll get it out of me eventually. Hell, even I'm not sure what she'll get out of me, or what it is I'm hiding.

Thankfully, Veronica leaves me be for the day. Well, verbally at least. She keeps giving me looks that silently tell me, 'I'm on to you,' and it makes me squirm every time I catch her eye. The worst part is, I'm not even sure what she's on to. If anything, I want to ask her to spell it out just to avoid this game of cat and mouse she wants to play.

As school lets out and our schoolmates make their way to their respectives cars and busses, I find myself walking alone out of the school. It's my first true moment of quiet in the entire day and I relish in it. The time alone with my thoughts, the quiet, the peace.

"Juggy," Veronica sings to me. Trailing behind her are Archie and Betty, who are busy talking to each other. "You didn't forget our date, did you?"

My mind blanks. 'Date?' I think, and worry who else heard her, but then I remember what she really means. We don't have a 'date', what we do have is a need to get back to her place before Hermione Lodge returns from her day job working for Archie's father. Knowing my own father, if Hermione was working with him, it wouldn't be long before things got very bad for the Lodge's.

"Right," I tell her as I shoot a glance back at Betty and Archie. They don't appear to have heard anything Veronica has said, which gives me a sense of relief and a pang of jealousy at the same time.

Without much fanfare, Veronica and I make our way across the football field and toward her place. I can't deny that getting a better look at what is hidden inside one of the many places the Lodge's call home - down one or two since Hiram found himself in prison - is a tempting mistress. Just what secrets is someone with their fingers is so many pies up to?

Veronica is talking about some fake designer bag when we get back to her place. I'm only half paying attention to her when we walk in the door and I drop my backpack inside the entry like I used to do before my family fell apart. It's only when I look up that I notice Veronica appears ill at ease as she looks around.

"Smithers?" she asks. Apparently the fact that he isn't there to greet her is cause for alarm.

"He's probably mopping a floor or dusting a doily or something," I say.

"No, he's always here when I get home," Veronica says. Concern grows on her face. "Smithers?" she calls again as we walk further into the lush home.

"We're in the kitchen!" a woman's voice calls back. "I got off work early, I've got a dinner meeting to attend with Fred."

Veronica shoots me a look of panic, and then quickly kills it. We are not alone, Veronica's mother is not where she is supposed to be. Our plans for the night are sufficiently killed.

"Sorry to concern you, Miss Veronica," Smithers says as he enters the room, Hermione behind him. "Ah, and Mr. Jughead, good to see you again."

Hermione's eyes narrow as she glances between me and her daughter. I've seen the woman in passing - at the drive in, at Jason's memorial. She's the epitome of elegance and class, a carefully crafted appearance, but something tells me that if I were to cross her in any way, she wouldn't be afraid to pull out the big guns.

"Hello," Hermione says and extends her hand to shake my own. "Sorry, Jughead was it?"

"The third," I offer back when I shake her hand. No sense telling her I'm a Jones, not with what she has going on with my father, whatever that is. Not if I don't want to find myself forcibly removed from her house.

"Are you and my daughter...?" she begins, and Veronica let's out a laugh. Ouch.

"No," she says. "To be honest, Juggy here is having a little trouble at home," she tells her, which is the truth. Not the whole truth, but some of it. "I thought maybe he could stay in the spare room for a night or two while he gets it figured out."

"Mija," Hermione sighs, obviously not on board with this idea.

"Please mom?" Veronica begs with big, beautiful puppy dog eyes. "And it's not like we'll be alone. Smithers is here."

Still not impressed, Hermione goes to say something else, but Veronica stops her.

"And Betty is coming over for a sleepover," Veronica adds. "She just had to run home for a few things after school."

Now I'm the one looking confused. Betty is coming over? Since when?

"Fine," Hermione relents. "But only for a couple of nights. Now, Smithers and I were busy planning your dinner, but I guess we'll add enough for two more."

Thankfully, she and Smithers retreat back to kitchen, finally leaving Veronica alone. It isn't until the galley door swings closed that I look at Veronica and whisper, "You didn't invite Betty over."

"Not yet," she says with a devious chuckle. "But she won't say no." Noticing my frustration, she adds, "Oh come on Juggy, it'll be fun. Besides, you'll get to see Betty Cooper in her pj's."

With a playful, frustratingly coy wink, she walks away from me and pulls out her phone. I should have known what I was getting into with Veronica, and curse myself for not expecting it. Having to deal with both Betty and Veronica all night, with what I'm not even sure what I'm feeling?

It's a recipe for a disaster.