"MARLA? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Betty asked Marla after opening the front door.

"Is your mom here?" Marla asked, her tone urgent, "I need to talk to her."

Betty smacked her hand against her forehead in realization. "Right. You came to talk to her about the Gargoyle King thing. About that, I think my mom went to one of those God-forbidden Farm meetings. Just thinking about it makes me wanna punch a wall."

     "Let's not take our anger out on the house, okay? It did nothing to you."

     "You can talk to me about it," Betty suggested. "I was," Marla replied, "just thought that kinda went. . .unsaid."

     Betty nodded, stepping aside to let Marla in. "Right. Well, you wanna come in? Wouldn't want to spook the neighbors about all this stuff."

     "I'm sure they're plenty spooked enough about all this stuff already. Or they've become so desensitized to all this that they don't even find it surprising. Which is honestly a little more worrisome." Marla stepped into the house and then Betty closed the door. "Given with the two other events that happened, I wouldn't be all that freaked out, either."

     They both made their way into the kitchen and Marla set her bag down onto one of the barstools. "I think I know who was behind the Gargoyle King mask the night your mom and her friends were at school."

     Betty leaned onto the kitchen island, listening intently. "Who do you think it was?"

     Marla took a deep breath, feeling bile in her throat beginning to rise from the sentence she was about to speak. "I-I think my dad might've been the Gargoyle King."

     Betty creased her brows, obviously confused. "How could you know that?"

"Well, aside from the Gargoyle mask that my mom kept hidden in the attic for years now, she told me the story about how my dad died. She said that he was still playing after your mom's friends forgot about it and went their separate ways. Someone finally beat him out of the Gargoyle King spot and made him ascend with that stupid Fresh-Aid and cyanide cocktail contraption."

    "Mars, I'm so sorry," Betty cajoled, reaching for her hand, "I can't imagine how terrible you feel about this."

     "Truth is, I don't feel all that bad about it." Marla shrugged. "I didn't even know him so I don't really feel any sort of emotional attachment so. . .I'm okay."

     Betty looked at her sadly. "What?" Marla asked, "I'm fine, Bets. Really."

     Betty came around the kitchen counter to give Marla a hug. Marla buried her nose into Betty's shoulder and let out a sigh. "I guess I'm upset over the fact that I never even got to meet my dad, but I can't turn back time and see him. And honestly? I'm okay with that. For all I know, he could've been a major dick and a deadbeat."

"But that's the thing," Betty said, pulling back, "you don't know. He could've been an amazing father."

"Guess we'll never find out, will we?" Marla dismissed and Betty gave her the same really? look but she let the conversation drop knowing that her girlfriend (if that's what they were now) didn't want to talk about it anymore. "What do we need to ask the Midnight Club exactly?" Betty asked instead.

Marla paused for a moment, pondering. "Um, I guess I just tell them that my dad was the Gargoyle King."

"Okay," Betty nodded before continuing, "what are they going to do with that information? We know that he's dead so I'm not entirely sure what they can do about it."

"Comfort, I guess?" Marla shrugged. "Closure? I don't know. They might think the Gargoyle King that's currently running a muck about town is the same one from their school days. If we tell them that the Gargoyle King from back then is dead, we can figure out the rest of the case. It doesn't narrow it down by much, but it still narrows it down to someone."

Betty cupped Marla's face and gave her a warm smile. "You are such a clever girl. And that is precisely why I love you, Marla McQueen."

Marla's face burned up at the sentiment of affection, before replying, "I love you too, Betty Cooper" and meeting her in a sweet kiss. The sweet kiss suddenly turned sultry as soon as Betty pushed Marla back against the kitchen counter and slid her tongue in between her teeth. While they were making out, Betty undid the buttons and the zipper on Marla's jeans.

     "Are we really gonna — god — do this on the kitchen island?" Marla asked, breathless, "Because it looks expensive and I'd hate for us to ruin it."

"Eh, it'll piss my mom off. Now jump."

"How high?" Marla joked before settling herself on the counter. Betty stepped in between Marla's legs and slid her hand down Marla's jeans, getting past her underwear.

"Oh my God," Marla breathed out, bending her head back from the sensation of feeling Betty's cool fingers. She twitched a little and gripped onto the counter, trying to keep herself together but Betty was just using the perfect amount of pressure on her and it didn't compete with anything else.

     "Oh, wow. You've never done this before. Did your mom teach you this, too?" Marla couldn't help asking, laughing a little because her brain was slowly beginning to short-circuit.

"I really don't wanna talk about my mom while I'm trying to get you off, Mars, okay?" Betty whispered before biting at Marla's earlobe. "And I was a little too preoccupied to tell you. Getting close?"

Marla nodded, and then the pressure increased against her. Next came the tingle of pleasure that rushed up her spine when she finally reached her climax.

"Now can I ask where you learned that?" Marla asked after she was done zipping up her jeans. She and Betty were sitting on the couch now, just talking.

     "Uh, a lot of trial and error, mostly," Betty answered, thinking about it, "I've been under a lot of stress lately with this whole thing and it was the best way I knew how to relieve it."

     "Wouldn't using that method as a stress reliever suck the fun out of it, though? I mean, it can't be fun anymore now that you're making it about work."

     "Well, it's not work when you have someone special in mind when you're doing it." Betty lifted a precocious eyebrow.

     Marla flushed, never having really been someone's wet dream before. "Me? You think about me?"

     "I mean, you are my girlfriend. Right? So it'd make sense to me to think about you, Mars."

     "Girlfriend?" Marla's tone was hopeful enough to bring a dopey smile to Betty's face.

     "Yeah," she said, shrugging but still smiling. "Why? You've never been a girlfriend before?"

     "Not really, no. I was made more into a 'seduce-and-destroy' machine without actually getting attached and being someone's one night stand. So you're my first. Technically."

     "Technically?" Betty asked. "I've had a few flings every now and again, but really nothing serious," Marla explained, "all the girls I made out with I never held hands with, basically."

     Betty reached out and intertwined her hand with Marla's. "Well, it's nice to know that I'm your first, serious relationship, Mars."

     Marla nestled herself against Betty and rested her chin on Betty's shoulder. "And hopefully my last. I don't think I can take kissing another girl in the bathroom and never seeing her again until lunch."