Title: Wedding Bells: We've Been Through Hell
Chapter: Prologue~The Third and Final Wedding
Summary: Jackie and Hyde are getting married and reflecting on the events in their lives that led them to the big moment. It is in kind of a strange order. Like, for example, there are references in the prologue that don't make any sense until chapter 3 or whatever.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, with a few Donna/Eric references
Spoilers: In upcoming chapters, there will be spoilers.
As he peered into the "dressing room," which was really a glorified women's restroom, he couldn't help but gape at the 24-year-old girl who's eyes were glued on her own reflection, trying to find any imperfection in her hair, makeup, or clothing. She looked...he could form no words to describe how she looked. Beautiful could not begin to cover it, but it was the only one he could come up with. It would have to do. And although she had always been beautiful, had always been noticed, and he had a pretty good feeling that she always would be, he was also sure about the fact that she would always be known for her especially stunning appearance on that particular day, in that particular dress.
Maybe it wasn't just her attire that was making her seem like the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid his pale blue eyes on. Maybe it was the aura she was emanating, a glow about her, a happiness, it seemed, that made her smile both widely and sincerely, a feat for any model, but especially for one like her, who most well-known for toothpaste advertisements. Nevertheless, the dress definitely helped.
Much to his surprise, his gaze was not immediately drawn to the plunging neckline that revealed just enough to be sexy, while still quite tasteful. Nor was he captivated by the tight-fitting bodice, or the skirt that was a tad too...poofy for his taste, although it suited her--and her princess complex--perfectly. It was the color of the gown--a blindingly pure white that exquisitely offset her tanned, unblemished skin and dark, silky locks that were loosely curled around her petite shoulders, that left him completely spellbound.
He, on the other hand, wore a simple black and white tuxedo. A penguin suit, as he called it. Nothing too fancy, but it was still too fancy for him. He'd prefer a pair of jeans and one of his many gray or black tee-shirts any day.
But she would not let him, so he worse the damn penguin suit.
"I can't say I blame her for forcing you into the tux. If your style hasn't changed in the past year, which I'm sure it hasn't, she would've killed you if you dressed yourself for this thing," a famliar voice--that he had to admit he had missed--said from behind him, as if reading his mind.
He turned around with a wry smile. "Glad to see you made it. Although, as the best man, you should really have been here sooner. I've gotta admit," he added, clearly joking, "that I am disappointed in you."
Despite the fact that he knew his best friend, the one he hadn't seen for eleven months, was joking, the best man looked slightly bashful. "Sorry. Donna and me got in a fight right before we left, over where to send the twins for preschool."
"Preschool? For Christ's sake, Forman, they were only born a year ago. They've got three more to go before you worry about that. Speaking of which, did you bring 'em? I wanna say hi to my godkids."
Eric Forman grinned widely, revealing a chipped front tooth. It was clear to anyone with half a brain that he was thinking about his pride and joys, Michelle and Heidi, named after the female version of the names of his two best friends. Michelle had the middle name of Fez, after his other friend, this one of foreign--though he still wasn't sure specifically where--descent, while Heidi's was Midge, after Donna's mom. They'd already decided that their next child, if it was a girl, would be Kitty, and if it was a boy, Red. Eric had specifically asked for this, although he had made Donna swear that if they did name their kid Red, she would claim that it was her idea. "Yeah, the girls are sitting with my parents. But now's not the time to say hi, man. And Donna's trying to find the--ahem-- dressing room . Which I see is right over here. And its a bathroom. Anyway, I'm pretty sure there's some kind of rule about not seeing the bride before the ceremony."
"Whatever, man. So how long are staying in town before you have to rush back to New York for some big business meeting, or whatever the hell it is you do."
"Man, I don't even know what I do," Eric replied jokingly. "But I do know I get a week off, and so does Donna. But she gets time off a lot anyway. I mean, she can do her work at home most of the time. Journalists are like that, you know. So, how long do you get off?" He paused then chuckled. "I keep forgetting you own the record store now. You can take all the time off you want."
"Well, maybe you keep forgetting because you're never around to be reminded."
"Maybe so."
Eric looked thoughtful for a moment. "Never thought I'd miss Point Place. Never. Then again, I never thought all of you guys would stay."
"Well, neither did I. But sometimes that's just how things work out. I mean, I never expected to get married."
"I never expected you to get married either. But you are. And its not even one of those 'let's show up at city hall today and get married real quick instead of having a real ceremony and reception' weddings. It's like an actual wedding. At a nice place. With, like, specified dressing rooms for the wedding party."
"The bridal dressing room has water damage from when it rained two days ago," he explained to Eric.
Eric blinked and smiled, then slapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come on, man. Let's go have a pre-wedding beer real quick."
"Nah, it's gonna be starting soon."
"Fine," Eric said. "Then I'll have a pre-wedding beer, and you can watch me drink it."
He rolled his eyes from behind tinted lenses of sunglasses (an accessory that he would have to remove within the next--he checked his watch--fifteen minutes.)
"Fine. One beer, okay."
"Okay," replied Eric, and the two twenty-five year olds headed towards a room down the hall with a crooked-hanging sign taped onto it that was labeled "Lounge." Upon entrance, the groom flopped down on an uncomfortable electric blue couch, while the best man bee-lined for the fridge. Half of Eric's upper body disappeared into the refridgerator for a moment, and a shuffling of items was heard, and then, one second later, he reemerged with a can of beer in his hand.
"So." Eric took his spot next to the groom.
"So," he said back, smiling faintly.
"I guess, as the best man, I'm supposed to give you a pep talk."
"No need, really."
Eric said, "Oh, come on. It's tradition."
"Fine. If you really have to."
"Yay!" He then grew serious and looked at his soon-to-be-married pal. "I, Eric Forman, will forgive you for marrying the devil. Because I realize you love her. And at least you're not marrying my sister, unlike certain other friends. Okay, good luck!"
He arched his eyebrow. "That's your pep talk?"
"Yeah. Oh, and Dad said that, if you chicken out, or decide you don't really love her, just rub your nose and sneeze, and he'll yell 'Fire!' or pretend to have another heart attack or something."
Laughing, he said, "That's nice of him, offering to help me leave my fiancee at the alter."
"That's what I said."
He checked his watch again, and saw that it was 12:25. The ceremony was at one, and he had already decided against showing up late. He'd rather not have his throat slit in his sleep tonight, the weapon being his wife's razor sharp fingernails. Yeah, that was not exactly how he wanted to spend his wedding night. He had other ideas of how to occupy their time. "Come on, man. We've got to hurry."
"Alright, alright," Eric said, setting his three-fourths-full beer down gently on the table.
"Let's go. But where's Fez?"
"He's probably at the alter already. I gave him three candy bars on the condition he'd not get himself into trouble."
"But it's funny when he gets himself into trouble," Eric whined.
He smiled. "Yeah, but I don't think I could take the stress today." He then stood up, teetering slightly, and stretched out. "Time to get married."
Eric said, half-serious, "Just remember what I said about my dad."
"I'll keep that in mind," he replied as he removed his trademark sunglasses, but it was obvious he was kidding. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. Because everything in his life had seemed like a risk. He never knew if he was doing the right thing, or saying the right thing. But this engagement, this wedding, it just felt right with him. Sure, he'd always lived within his own boundaries of what to do, and how to do it. Getting married wasn't within those boundaries. At least the old ones. But maybe these were new boundaries, new lines, for a man in love.
"Come on," groaned Eric. "Let's get this thing over with."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Are you ready, son?" whispered the pastor to the young man to the left of him. He'd seen his fair share of marriages, and nervous grooms, and he always made sure to ask if they were ready before signaling to Mrs. Baggs to begin playing the organ.
"Yes," was the simple reply he received, the young man's voice strong, sure, and perhaps the least nervous the pastor had ever heard from a groom. But that was because he was not nervous. He was happy. Achingly happy. Annoyingly happy. Yet, it wasn't a jittery happy or a hyper happy, but a calm happy. The kind you get only when you feel a sense of completeness. The kind you get only when you're truly overjoyed. So much that you can't smile, laugh, weep, or sigh, but simply stand there, and let the warm feeling conquer your gut.
The traditional music began playing, and the groom exhanged a quick look with his best friend and best man, Eric Forman, and then with his foreign friend, who was busy munching on a Hershey's bar, Fez. He turned back to look at the aisle, whick Red and Kitty Forman were walking down, each pushing a stroller carrying a murmuring baby girl in a pink dress. When they reached the front, Mrs. Forman let go of the strolled for a moment and kissed the groom on the cheek, whispering, "I'm so proud of you." Mr. Forman merely muttered, "Remember: rub your nose and sneeze." They then turned right, still pushing the strollers, and sat down on the empty front bench, the strollers a little in front of them.
Next down the aisle was Donna Pinciotti-Forman, Eric's wife, her lovely red hair up in a bun, with wisps of it falling out towards the front. Her light pink dress pooled slightly around her angles as she walked, and she nearly tripped once, but she caught herself and was spared the embarrassment. She smiled warmly at her husband, then took her place on the left, leaving an empty space between herself and the pastor.
And then the music changed slightly, and the classic "dun dun dun-dun" began playing, the signal for the bride to begin her walk down the aisle. He felt his heart begin to race at the thought of seeing her, marrying her. However collected he may have felt seconds earlier, now he felt really and truly anxious, and he couldn't even tell whether or not it was the good or bad kind of anxious.
Then he saw her. She was a vision. And he wasn't the only one who thought so. He proudly grinned when he even heard a few gasps.
The people on either side of the aisle stood now, but he barely noticed them. As cliche as it may sound, he only had eyes for her. She looked even better than she had when he'd spied on her while she was in her "dressing room," something he had thought impossible. But then again, everything about their relationship defied possibility.
On her arm was Michael Kelso, looking as handsome as ever. He wore a white suit and a hot pink bow tie, which, on anyone else would have looked ridiculous, but on him...well, it looked ridiculous, but he was still unbelievably handsome in it. At least he spared us the unicorns, thought the groom sarcastically, slightly bitter for a moment. But this was his day, not Kelso's, and he refused to let himself experience any jealousy. Because he was the one marrying her, wasn't he? Not Michael Kelso or anyone else, for that matter.
When she'd first suggested for Kelso to be the one to walk her down the aisle, he had, of course, forbid it. Kelso was his best friend, of course, but he still didn't trust him anywhere near his girlfriend. They just had too much history for him to be comfortable when they were together.
But she had explained that it was important to her. "Michael has been a big part of my life, and since my own dad can't walk me down the aisle, I want him to. I know you're unhappy about it, but you had better get over it. This is something I want. For me. Because when you think about it, he really is giving me away. Our marriage is, like, a sign that me and Michael are over for good. He's giving me away. To you. You should be a happy about it, actually." He had gotten pissed at her after that, both because he didn't want Kelso to give her away, and because he had thought it was clear that Kelso and her were over for good when they got engaged, possibly even before then. But he forgave her the next day because, much as he tried, he couldn't stay mad at her.
When the pair reached the wedding party, Kelso turned to his former girlfriend for a second and gave her an innocent peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she mouthed at him, and he smiled, then turned to the groom. "If you hurt her," he began, but was instantly cut off by the words, "I won't."
She stood next to Donna, and the engaged couple faced one another, him with a straight face, her smiling like a fool. The pastor spoke. "Dearly beloved, the matter that brings us here today is marriage and love between this man and this woman. But what is love, true love? It is something unfathomable, undefinable. Something comfortable. An unconditional feeling. These are some of the many ways to describe love. Let us now give the bride and groom give us their opinion on their love for eachother. Jackie?"
Jackie smiled at the pastor and then turned to her soon-to-be husband. Her voice wavered slightly as she said, "Steven Hyde, I love you with all of my heart. And although it's been a rocky road getting here, I think I always knew we would get here. Well, not always, of course. I thought I was going to marry Michael for a long time, and I almost did, but..." She saw Hyde's eyebrow raise. "Well, anyway, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I don't have such a great way with words, but I can say 'I love you.' And I know I can be petty and vain and self-centered, and I would say that I would change for you, but we both know I wouldn't. So I'll just say that I am who I am, but who I am is a girl who loves you and will try as hard as she can to make you happy." She then nodded to the pastor, signifying she was finished.
"Steven, would you like to say something?"
"Yeah. Jackie, we've...well, we've been through hell--" The pastor coughed pointedly. "We've been through...a lot. More than I would've liked to have gone through. I've dumped you, cheated on you, loved you, and hated you. I've been unreliable and undeserving. I've put you through hel--through some deep...crap. And you should know I'm never gonna be the perfect guy, the one who says and does everything right. But I'm just glad you'll have me. This has been a weird trip."
The pastor grinned widely. "Well, wasn't that nice? Now, before God and all of you, these two will be joined by the bonds of holy matrimony." He put his right hand on Hyde's shoulder and his left on Jackie's. "If there is anyone here who believes that these young people should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Hyde held his breath, waiting, waiting. But no. No one said anything. No one spoke up. No one objected. "Thank god," he whispered.
"Okay, then we'll move on. Jackie Burkhardt, do you take--"
"Wait!" a familiarly accented voice cried. "I must object."
Hyde, Jackie, and the pastor whipped around to face Fez. "You object? On what grounds?" asked the pastor.
"Just kidding," Fez responded, laughing. "I do not really object."
If looks could kill, Fez would have been lying dead on the ground bleeding from every--and that means every--hole in his body. "What?" he asked, clueless that he had done something that, had it been any other wedding, Hyde would have found funny, but at this wedding, was an act deserving of severe punishment. But, since he had no time to make Fez pay, Hyde simply grabbed the chocolate bar out of his hand and threw it into Mrs. Forman's lap.
"Well," chucked the pastor nervously. "Let's get back to it. Um." He looked down at his Bible. "Oh, yes, Jackie Burkhardt, do you take Steven Hyde as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do," Jackie replied, her excitement bubbling up inside of her.
"And do you, Steven Hyde, take Jackie Burkhardt as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I..." It is said that in the moments before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Well, apparently the same was true with getting married, because, in the seconds before Hyde was supposed to say "I do," he couldn't help but take a trip through time, and relive the moments that had led himself, Steven Hyde, to be standing at the alter, marrying the princess of Point Place, Jackie Burkhardt.
Chapter: Prologue~The Third and Final Wedding
Summary: Jackie and Hyde are getting married and reflecting on the events in their lives that led them to the big moment. It is in kind of a strange order. Like, for example, there are references in the prologue that don't make any sense until chapter 3 or whatever.
Pairings: Jackie/Hyde, with a few Donna/Eric references
Spoilers: In upcoming chapters, there will be spoilers.
As he peered into the "dressing room," which was really a glorified women's restroom, he couldn't help but gape at the 24-year-old girl who's eyes were glued on her own reflection, trying to find any imperfection in her hair, makeup, or clothing. She looked...he could form no words to describe how she looked. Beautiful could not begin to cover it, but it was the only one he could come up with. It would have to do. And although she had always been beautiful, had always been noticed, and he had a pretty good feeling that she always would be, he was also sure about the fact that she would always be known for her especially stunning appearance on that particular day, in that particular dress.
Maybe it wasn't just her attire that was making her seem like the most gorgeous woman he had ever laid his pale blue eyes on. Maybe it was the aura she was emanating, a glow about her, a happiness, it seemed, that made her smile both widely and sincerely, a feat for any model, but especially for one like her, who most well-known for toothpaste advertisements. Nevertheless, the dress definitely helped.
Much to his surprise, his gaze was not immediately drawn to the plunging neckline that revealed just enough to be sexy, while still quite tasteful. Nor was he captivated by the tight-fitting bodice, or the skirt that was a tad too...poofy for his taste, although it suited her--and her princess complex--perfectly. It was the color of the gown--a blindingly pure white that exquisitely offset her tanned, unblemished skin and dark, silky locks that were loosely curled around her petite shoulders, that left him completely spellbound.
He, on the other hand, wore a simple black and white tuxedo. A penguin suit, as he called it. Nothing too fancy, but it was still too fancy for him. He'd prefer a pair of jeans and one of his many gray or black tee-shirts any day.
But she would not let him, so he worse the damn penguin suit.
"I can't say I blame her for forcing you into the tux. If your style hasn't changed in the past year, which I'm sure it hasn't, she would've killed you if you dressed yourself for this thing," a famliar voice--that he had to admit he had missed--said from behind him, as if reading his mind.
He turned around with a wry smile. "Glad to see you made it. Although, as the best man, you should really have been here sooner. I've gotta admit," he added, clearly joking, "that I am disappointed in you."
Despite the fact that he knew his best friend, the one he hadn't seen for eleven months, was joking, the best man looked slightly bashful. "Sorry. Donna and me got in a fight right before we left, over where to send the twins for preschool."
"Preschool? For Christ's sake, Forman, they were only born a year ago. They've got three more to go before you worry about that. Speaking of which, did you bring 'em? I wanna say hi to my godkids."
Eric Forman grinned widely, revealing a chipped front tooth. It was clear to anyone with half a brain that he was thinking about his pride and joys, Michelle and Heidi, named after the female version of the names of his two best friends. Michelle had the middle name of Fez, after his other friend, this one of foreign--though he still wasn't sure specifically where--descent, while Heidi's was Midge, after Donna's mom. They'd already decided that their next child, if it was a girl, would be Kitty, and if it was a boy, Red. Eric had specifically asked for this, although he had made Donna swear that if they did name their kid Red, she would claim that it was her idea. "Yeah, the girls are sitting with my parents. But now's not the time to say hi, man. And Donna's trying to find the--ahem-- dressing room . Which I see is right over here. And its a bathroom. Anyway, I'm pretty sure there's some kind of rule about not seeing the bride before the ceremony."
"Whatever, man. So how long are staying in town before you have to rush back to New York for some big business meeting, or whatever the hell it is you do."
"Man, I don't even know what I do," Eric replied jokingly. "But I do know I get a week off, and so does Donna. But she gets time off a lot anyway. I mean, she can do her work at home most of the time. Journalists are like that, you know. So, how long do you get off?" He paused then chuckled. "I keep forgetting you own the record store now. You can take all the time off you want."
"Well, maybe you keep forgetting because you're never around to be reminded."
"Maybe so."
Eric looked thoughtful for a moment. "Never thought I'd miss Point Place. Never. Then again, I never thought all of you guys would stay."
"Well, neither did I. But sometimes that's just how things work out. I mean, I never expected to get married."
"I never expected you to get married either. But you are. And its not even one of those 'let's show up at city hall today and get married real quick instead of having a real ceremony and reception' weddings. It's like an actual wedding. At a nice place. With, like, specified dressing rooms for the wedding party."
"The bridal dressing room has water damage from when it rained two days ago," he explained to Eric.
Eric blinked and smiled, then slapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come on, man. Let's go have a pre-wedding beer real quick."
"Nah, it's gonna be starting soon."
"Fine," Eric said. "Then I'll have a pre-wedding beer, and you can watch me drink it."
He rolled his eyes from behind tinted lenses of sunglasses (an accessory that he would have to remove within the next--he checked his watch--fifteen minutes.)
"Fine. One beer, okay."
"Okay," replied Eric, and the two twenty-five year olds headed towards a room down the hall with a crooked-hanging sign taped onto it that was labeled "Lounge." Upon entrance, the groom flopped down on an uncomfortable electric blue couch, while the best man bee-lined for the fridge. Half of Eric's upper body disappeared into the refridgerator for a moment, and a shuffling of items was heard, and then, one second later, he reemerged with a can of beer in his hand.
"So." Eric took his spot next to the groom.
"So," he said back, smiling faintly.
"I guess, as the best man, I'm supposed to give you a pep talk."
"No need, really."
Eric said, "Oh, come on. It's tradition."
"Fine. If you really have to."
"Yay!" He then grew serious and looked at his soon-to-be-married pal. "I, Eric Forman, will forgive you for marrying the devil. Because I realize you love her. And at least you're not marrying my sister, unlike certain other friends. Okay, good luck!"
He arched his eyebrow. "That's your pep talk?"
"Yeah. Oh, and Dad said that, if you chicken out, or decide you don't really love her, just rub your nose and sneeze, and he'll yell 'Fire!' or pretend to have another heart attack or something."
Laughing, he said, "That's nice of him, offering to help me leave my fiancee at the alter."
"That's what I said."
He checked his watch again, and saw that it was 12:25. The ceremony was at one, and he had already decided against showing up late. He'd rather not have his throat slit in his sleep tonight, the weapon being his wife's razor sharp fingernails. Yeah, that was not exactly how he wanted to spend his wedding night. He had other ideas of how to occupy their time. "Come on, man. We've got to hurry."
"Alright, alright," Eric said, setting his three-fourths-full beer down gently on the table.
"Let's go. But where's Fez?"
"He's probably at the alter already. I gave him three candy bars on the condition he'd not get himself into trouble."
"But it's funny when he gets himself into trouble," Eric whined.
He smiled. "Yeah, but I don't think I could take the stress today." He then stood up, teetering slightly, and stretched out. "Time to get married."
Eric said, half-serious, "Just remember what I said about my dad."
"I'll keep that in mind," he replied as he removed his trademark sunglasses, but it was obvious he was kidding. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. Because everything in his life had seemed like a risk. He never knew if he was doing the right thing, or saying the right thing. But this engagement, this wedding, it just felt right with him. Sure, he'd always lived within his own boundaries of what to do, and how to do it. Getting married wasn't within those boundaries. At least the old ones. But maybe these were new boundaries, new lines, for a man in love.
"Come on," groaned Eric. "Let's get this thing over with."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Are you ready, son?" whispered the pastor to the young man to the left of him. He'd seen his fair share of marriages, and nervous grooms, and he always made sure to ask if they were ready before signaling to Mrs. Baggs to begin playing the organ.
"Yes," was the simple reply he received, the young man's voice strong, sure, and perhaps the least nervous the pastor had ever heard from a groom. But that was because he was not nervous. He was happy. Achingly happy. Annoyingly happy. Yet, it wasn't a jittery happy or a hyper happy, but a calm happy. The kind you get only when you feel a sense of completeness. The kind you get only when you're truly overjoyed. So much that you can't smile, laugh, weep, or sigh, but simply stand there, and let the warm feeling conquer your gut.
The traditional music began playing, and the groom exhanged a quick look with his best friend and best man, Eric Forman, and then with his foreign friend, who was busy munching on a Hershey's bar, Fez. He turned back to look at the aisle, whick Red and Kitty Forman were walking down, each pushing a stroller carrying a murmuring baby girl in a pink dress. When they reached the front, Mrs. Forman let go of the strolled for a moment and kissed the groom on the cheek, whispering, "I'm so proud of you." Mr. Forman merely muttered, "Remember: rub your nose and sneeze." They then turned right, still pushing the strollers, and sat down on the empty front bench, the strollers a little in front of them.
Next down the aisle was Donna Pinciotti-Forman, Eric's wife, her lovely red hair up in a bun, with wisps of it falling out towards the front. Her light pink dress pooled slightly around her angles as she walked, and she nearly tripped once, but she caught herself and was spared the embarrassment. She smiled warmly at her husband, then took her place on the left, leaving an empty space between herself and the pastor.
And then the music changed slightly, and the classic "dun dun dun-dun" began playing, the signal for the bride to begin her walk down the aisle. He felt his heart begin to race at the thought of seeing her, marrying her. However collected he may have felt seconds earlier, now he felt really and truly anxious, and he couldn't even tell whether or not it was the good or bad kind of anxious.
Then he saw her. She was a vision. And he wasn't the only one who thought so. He proudly grinned when he even heard a few gasps.
The people on either side of the aisle stood now, but he barely noticed them. As cliche as it may sound, he only had eyes for her. She looked even better than she had when he'd spied on her while she was in her "dressing room," something he had thought impossible. But then again, everything about their relationship defied possibility.
On her arm was Michael Kelso, looking as handsome as ever. He wore a white suit and a hot pink bow tie, which, on anyone else would have looked ridiculous, but on him...well, it looked ridiculous, but he was still unbelievably handsome in it. At least he spared us the unicorns, thought the groom sarcastically, slightly bitter for a moment. But this was his day, not Kelso's, and he refused to let himself experience any jealousy. Because he was the one marrying her, wasn't he? Not Michael Kelso or anyone else, for that matter.
When she'd first suggested for Kelso to be the one to walk her down the aisle, he had, of course, forbid it. Kelso was his best friend, of course, but he still didn't trust him anywhere near his girlfriend. They just had too much history for him to be comfortable when they were together.
But she had explained that it was important to her. "Michael has been a big part of my life, and since my own dad can't walk me down the aisle, I want him to. I know you're unhappy about it, but you had better get over it. This is something I want. For me. Because when you think about it, he really is giving me away. Our marriage is, like, a sign that me and Michael are over for good. He's giving me away. To you. You should be a happy about it, actually." He had gotten pissed at her after that, both because he didn't want Kelso to give her away, and because he had thought it was clear that Kelso and her were over for good when they got engaged, possibly even before then. But he forgave her the next day because, much as he tried, he couldn't stay mad at her.
When the pair reached the wedding party, Kelso turned to his former girlfriend for a second and gave her an innocent peck on the cheek. "Thank you," she mouthed at him, and he smiled, then turned to the groom. "If you hurt her," he began, but was instantly cut off by the words, "I won't."
She stood next to Donna, and the engaged couple faced one another, him with a straight face, her smiling like a fool. The pastor spoke. "Dearly beloved, the matter that brings us here today is marriage and love between this man and this woman. But what is love, true love? It is something unfathomable, undefinable. Something comfortable. An unconditional feeling. These are some of the many ways to describe love. Let us now give the bride and groom give us their opinion on their love for eachother. Jackie?"
Jackie smiled at the pastor and then turned to her soon-to-be husband. Her voice wavered slightly as she said, "Steven Hyde, I love you with all of my heart. And although it's been a rocky road getting here, I think I always knew we would get here. Well, not always, of course. I thought I was going to marry Michael for a long time, and I almost did, but..." She saw Hyde's eyebrow raise. "Well, anyway, it doesn't matter. What matters is that I don't have such a great way with words, but I can say 'I love you.' And I know I can be petty and vain and self-centered, and I would say that I would change for you, but we both know I wouldn't. So I'll just say that I am who I am, but who I am is a girl who loves you and will try as hard as she can to make you happy." She then nodded to the pastor, signifying she was finished.
"Steven, would you like to say something?"
"Yeah. Jackie, we've...well, we've been through hell--" The pastor coughed pointedly. "We've been through...a lot. More than I would've liked to have gone through. I've dumped you, cheated on you, loved you, and hated you. I've been unreliable and undeserving. I've put you through hel--through some deep...crap. And you should know I'm never gonna be the perfect guy, the one who says and does everything right. But I'm just glad you'll have me. This has been a weird trip."
The pastor grinned widely. "Well, wasn't that nice? Now, before God and all of you, these two will be joined by the bonds of holy matrimony." He put his right hand on Hyde's shoulder and his left on Jackie's. "If there is anyone here who believes that these young people should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Hyde held his breath, waiting, waiting. But no. No one said anything. No one spoke up. No one objected. "Thank god," he whispered.
"Okay, then we'll move on. Jackie Burkhardt, do you take--"
"Wait!" a familiarly accented voice cried. "I must object."
Hyde, Jackie, and the pastor whipped around to face Fez. "You object? On what grounds?" asked the pastor.
"Just kidding," Fez responded, laughing. "I do not really object."
If looks could kill, Fez would have been lying dead on the ground bleeding from every--and that means every--hole in his body. "What?" he asked, clueless that he had done something that, had it been any other wedding, Hyde would have found funny, but at this wedding, was an act deserving of severe punishment. But, since he had no time to make Fez pay, Hyde simply grabbed the chocolate bar out of his hand and threw it into Mrs. Forman's lap.
"Well," chucked the pastor nervously. "Let's get back to it. Um." He looked down at his Bible. "Oh, yes, Jackie Burkhardt, do you take Steven Hyde as your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I do," Jackie replied, her excitement bubbling up inside of her.
"And do you, Steven Hyde, take Jackie Burkhardt as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?"
"I..." It is said that in the moments before you die, your life flashes before your eyes. Well, apparently the same was true with getting married, because, in the seconds before Hyde was supposed to say "I do," he couldn't help but take a trip through time, and relive the moments that had led himself, Steven Hyde, to be standing at the alter, marrying the princess of Point Place, Jackie Burkhardt.
