Jabitha Oneshots

"Stephen"

Tabitha and Jughead can't agree on baby names.

"How about... Stephen. After Stephen King," Jughead said, grabbing another handful of caramelised popcorn from the heaping bowl beside him.

Tabitha frowned, squinting distractedly at the TV with a hand on her swollen stomach and a mouth full of food.

Eventually, she swallowed.

"No, too middle-aged man. Try something else."

Jughead scribbled the name out, tapping his pen against the notebook page. The small, brown journal had become a semi-permanent resident in Jughead's pocket, the dumping ground for everything baby. It had been suggested by his therapist, to help him work through his fatherly anxieties before the birth of his and Tabitha's child, but he had quickly warmed to the idea. Something about the sombre looking, leather-bound pages made him feel like an adult. And that was comforting to him in this strange, new reality.

He exhaled deeply, "so, I'm assuming you won't be into Edgar then?"

His girlfriend laughed and tossed a piece of popcorn at him. It bounced off his sweater and onto the carpet.

"No, Jones. Also, why are we only thinking of boy's names. What if it's a girl?"

Jughead thought for a second, "Mia?"

She considered his suggestion for a moment, before giving him a gentle smile.

"I don't hate it," she said, "But do I even want to know what that's referencing?"

"No. Probably not."

Jughead scanned through the journal, turning the pages, and perusing the various name ideas, coupons for diaper rash cream and random hacks he'd scrawled onto the lines. It suddenly strsuck him how imminent the birth of his child was; the fact that in less than two months, there would be a third, tiny addition to the small, Jones-Tate family.

"Tabitha? Do you think I'll be a good dad," he asked softly.

She looked up at him in surprise, running her hands over her midsection as she had taken to doing over the past few months.

After a moment, she responded, "The best."