Jaded
(Author's Note: I've never written these two before, but I haven't been able to get them out of my head due to all the reruns on TV. So enjoy.)
My, my, baby blue,
You're so jaded,
And I'm the one that jaded you.
She's got a cigarette burning between her lips, burning close to the filter, a long string of ash dangling, just waiting to fall on her designer skirt. She didn't always smoke. Actually, she always talked about how it smelled so gross and made the air hard to breathe. But at the same time, she also talked about how sexy some actors and actresses looked with the little stick between their fingers, so he figures it was only a matter of time before she started buying them. It is weird nonetheless.
Weirder is that she's sitting alone. In a bar. Actually the place is more of his stomping grounds, and for her to be sitting there? Yeah, it's definitely out there. He also can't stop the creeping thought in the back of his mind that it's dangerous for a girl that pretty and naïve to be there. The place is where he scores his pot most of the time, and he's noticed this new stuff called cocaine trading hands from time to time. It's not kosher shit. He sticks to the natural stuff. That chemical shit? It kills people. He'll pass.
He knows a lot of women in the area don't always have the choice though. That's what makes him suck in air through his nose and go talk to her.
They don't speak much. Not after the fiasco that was their relationship. Not after everyone left.
"Where's Fez?" he asks. He once would have always known where the weird foreign kid was lurking.
She blinks out of this strange haze she's in and looks up at him like she doesn't recognize him. For a second, he thinks she's already been drugged.
"I… don't know…" she says, and her voice is small and confused, more like she's trying to figure out how he got to be in front of her.
"You aren't dating him anymore?" Hyde cocks an eyebrow at her.
She gives him that look that gives lots of people – like he's stupid and she pities him. "Things change in six years. Well, some things do." She eyes him, and he's well aware that he hasn't quite escaped the 70's. But he thinks most of the current fashions are stupid so fuck it.
Six years since they rang in the new decade with their friends. Things just sort of fell apart after that. He can't stop the pang of bitterness in his heart. Sure, he still talks to some of his friends sometimes – especially Eric – but everyone else just kind of… went on living their lives. And he's still in Point Place. It sucks sometimes. He's almost thirty and starting to look at a life fairly similar to his predecessors.
Jackie and Fez took off not long after that New Year's party. Jackie had big dreams and Fez had a habit of following people wherever they would take him, so they moved to Chicago. Eric finished up in Africa and he and Donna moved in together in New York City, and they were living that weird, upscale, city life that just didn't suit them. Kelso was still modeling, and had apparently booked a TV show in Los Angeles. Hyde was never sure if it would get off the ground. Knowing Kelso's habit for lying, he supposed acting couldn't be too much of a stretch.
"So you two aren't together anymore," he states.
"You see me for the first time in six years and that's all you have to say to me?" She snaps, and her voice slurs very slightly. She's had more than just the one drink in front of her.
She puts the cigarette out in the ashtray and flips her dark hair over her shoulder.
She's wearing gold. Yeah, the purposefully frizzed hair and jewelry is ridiculous, but the color always makes her eyes glow like a demon's. He's always liked that.
"Alright. What brings you back to Point Place?"
She looks down into her alcohol with a scowl. "I don't know. I guess I thought I did. What keeps you here?"
He wants to say Red and Kitty. They need someone to keep an eye for them as they drift into the so-called golden years of life. He wants to say Leo, but he passed away a few years before. Everyone else is gone. The last he heard of his mother, she got involved with that chemical shit going around and lost her fucking mind. What was left of it anyway.
"The store," he decides on, because it's an okay excuse. Angie sought out a better career. Hyde figures that she felt she had something more to prove. "Someone's gotta run it."
Record stores like his don't really do that much business anymore.
"That's a stupid reason," she replies. He's inclined to agree. But he hates it when she's right.
He sits across from her and orders a drink, folding his hands. "So… how've you been?" The question comes out more tender and longing than he intends, and he hates himself for it.
Her eyes grow distant again, and she looks like she might just start crying. "Oh… it's been… okay, I guess." She sighs, drumming her fingers on her glass. "It's actually been pretty awful."
"What happened?" Because, honestly, he's curious. Life hasn't always been perfect for Jackie Burkhart, but she's managed pretty well so far – or so he thought.
She sighs. "I actually came back here to get away from the city," She says. "I… messed up. A lot. I wanted to start fresh."
He smirks at her. "I'm the master of mistakes. Impress me."
She lights another cigarette. "You want the truth?"
"Preferably."
She snorts a little and it makes her look old. He notices a little crinkle in her forehead that wasn't there before. And she's only 25. Good God.
"I've been sick. I got into modeling and television in Chicago, you know. Fez and I were engaged. But…" She sighs. The tough part. "I wasn't skinny enough. I guess I put on a few after the move. I tried to lose it. I did. One of my friends told me about this new drug going around that could help me lose it quickly. I did. And ten more pounds. But—" She shakes her head. "I ended up using up all of our savings and pawning my engagement ring. Fez tried to help but he gave up. He doesn't handle things like that well."
Apparently she's not as young and naïve as Hyde wants to believe.
"Oh," he says, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He tries to keep his expression as neutral as possible, but it's hard.
"Go ahead and judge me, Stephen," she says, frowning. "I'm clean now. I just… had to get away."
It's kind of nice to hear her say his name again, even in that threatened tone.
"Hey, you're already past a lot of these crazy crackheads. Most of 'em never get clean."
She smiles. It's dazzling, he hates to admit. She's always been beautiful, if not sometimes a horrible human being. Still, her eyes look forlorn.
"I know. I haven't seen Fez since. I'm afraid to go looking." She shakes her head again before admitting, "I'm actually really glad you're here. I thought I was coming back to nothing."
Hyde swallows down his drink. "See, most people would think you still were, considering I'm kind of a nothing around here."
"You were always something to me," she murmurs, her face drawing wistful.
"You want another?" Hyde offers. He wants her to say no.
She does. "No thanks."
"You wanna go walking?"
She grimaces. "Stephen…"
"What?"
"I'm glad to see you. I am. But I really don't know if…"
"I don't think that coke shit makes you forget how to walk," Hyde insists, tossing cash on the table to pay the check. "Come on."
When he gets her out in the sunlight, it's a little easier to see the change. Her frame has always been small, but she's gaunt, her skin kind of sallow and unhealthy, her eyes drawn in adjusting to the change in light. Her hair looks damaged and frayed, which apparently is the thing nowadays. And she's… jaded.
That's the word. She's as jaded as those eyes of hers.
He hates that. Yeah, she was a conniving, spoiled little brat when she was young, but she didn't deserve to have life knock her on her ass like that. He's been down that road a million times, and it's never pretty.
"Yeah, so I finally got to see the big house. I guess that makes me part of your set of people now, hm?"
"Criminals? Yeah. I guess it does." The air's a little chilly, like it usually is this time of year. The leaves are changing and Point Place is pretty for the time being. The type of pretty where tourist come into town just to watch the leaves change even though they have leaves and trees in their own goddamn town. "How long were you in?"
"Not long. Sympathetic jury. Got sentenced to rehab instead. It worked."
"That's good."
"You still smoke?" Jackie asks.
"Sometimes."
He doesn't very much. Pot's a social drug and he doesn't have much of a social circle anymore.
"What are you gonna do now, Jackie?"
"I'm going to try to live my life I guess." She kicks an empty can, looking bitter. "Look at me. Washed up at 25. Pretty pathetic."
"Just take a year, Jackie. Then go back and try again. You're not washed up."
She looks dubiously at Hyde. "Whatever you say. I don't know if I even want to go back."
Now he's really surprised. He can't even hide it behind his sunglasses.
"I wasn't happy," she elaborates. "I don't remember being happy for a while."
"I thought Fez was your perfect man."
"So did I. It wasn't his fault. I guess I'm never happy. I'm fickle."
"Yeah, you are."
She glares. "Hey! You're supposed to disagree with me and tell me I'm not fickle."
"Jackie, have I ever been that guy?"
Her face shifts to something almost… fond. "No, no you never have. I guess some things never change."
She's still beautiful. Even with the stupid clothes and frizzy hair and jaded eyes. He sees she's still in there. He actually kind of likes looking at her and seeing an adult. It's not so difficult to relate to her anymore.
"You have," he muses.
"Yeah. I don't think I like the 80's much. I think these clothes are stupid. And it hasn't exactly been a great decade so far."
"On the bright side, in four years, it'll all be over."
"And I'll be almost thirty. That's a scary thought."
They walk for over half an hour when she stops. "Wow…"
They're coming up on the neighborhood, the Forman's house. There are a lot of memories on this street. Even Hyde is lost momentarily in a wave of nostalgia that almost hurts. The street's a lot quieter than it used to be. A lot dirtier too. Everything is. There aren't a lot of people living out here anymore.
"You don't still live there, do you?"
"No. I have my own place. I house sit though. They go on vacation or go visit their kids."
"Even Laurie, that skank?"
"Yeah, I don't know why they would do that. Must be getting senile in their old age."
He ushers her down the stairs on the side of the house, down to the basement.
The basement.
"It looks… just like we left it…"
"I don't think Mrs. Forman ever wanted to change it. She remodeled some of the house though."
Jackie walks across the floor in a daze, like her body is carrying itself without her knowledge.
"You know," she says softly. "They didn't really consider me part of their group for a long time. None of you did. Not until I started dating you. I guess you… changed me."
He did. He's not afraid to admit it. He was her polar opposite then. To date someone that different of course meant sacrifices that changed her.
"It was silly. I was stuck up until I fell in lo—"
She halts in her words, just staring around the room, like she's waiting for it to collapse on her.
"I wish…" she trails off. She starts to cry.
He takes a step toward her, but before he can reach out to her, she turns around and throws herself into his arms. His arms encircle her almost instinctively, like they're made to. She fits perfectly against him, her tiny frame shuddering with her tears. He strokes her hair and they stand there in silence.
"I missed you," he finally says.
Six years ago, he would have never said it, but he can't say that he's exactly the same. Living his lonely existence for the past six years has been just short of Hell. He can't say he believes in fate or anything, but there has to be a reason she showed up in that bar on that day.
"Oh…" she whimpers.
She kisses him, sudden and needy, and who is he to deny her? He kisses back just as fiercely, and his brain is filled with memories of her. That entire summer where they made out all over the Forman's house. The night that they first slept together. The good and bad talks that consisted largely of their relationship. And he knows it's true. He did miss her. His life feels less empty with her back in it. His tongue pushes against hers, his hands gripping at her hips, nearly bruising and purpling the flesh beneath that gold dress adorning them.
She's tearing at his shirt within moments, dragging her lips down his neck so the flesh is seared with her imprint. He pulls at the belt on her dress first, hands wandering, looking for a zipper or a button or whatever the hell it takes to get the damn thing off.
"Unh, let me," she gasps, reaching around the back of her dress and unzipping it without issue, letting it slink down her body and drape at her ankles.
He scrambles at her skin, pulling her legs around him until she actually hops up, wrapping her legs around his waist, nearly knocking their teeth together. He stumbles around with her, bumping into walls and doorways until he finally drops her onto the cot he used to sleep on. It's a bit dusty, but he doesn't care. He pulls the tiny piece of fabric from between her legs and tosses it aside.
She's got a tattoo. A butterfly right below her belly button. He smirks.
"Well, Little Miss Badass."
She pops the fly on his jeans and yanks them down. "Not now, Stephen. Please."
He shimmies out of his jeans and boxers and places a kiss to the little butterfly. She moans and it sends sparks through him. She pulls on his arms. She doesn't want him to take his time, so he doesn't. He pushes himself inside her with a grunt. Her back arches into him and she throws her head back, her throat long and graceful before him. Just like old times.
They did this dance a million times when they were younger. The summer that Kelso took off to California, they had swapped spit so much that they could probably map each other's dental records. And of course it went further. She was always demanding and needy and perfect at the same time. Because yeah, she never shut up. But when she did, it was a pretty good boost to the ego.
She feels a little different this time, the way her body rocks in rhythm to his. She's still a perfect fit around him, oddly enough, but the soft sounds she groans and the way her hands play on his shoulders, making their way down to his rib cage where she plays some sort of melody on it. She's more aware of herself. She's dirty.
She's grown.
That's what it is. It's almost a complete buzzkill to think that they've both grown up so fast.
When she comes, she's a goddess, those gold-green eyes rolling and her mouth falling open in silence. He's always wondered why she climaxes so silently since she can never seem to stop running her mouth any other time. But every time the thought flits across his mind, he's tumbling over the edge after her, going rigid and fisting the bed sheets on either side of her.
She's a hell of a drug. He's always thought so. There's no other way someone who was once such a spoiled brat could nail over half the guys in their little circle of friends. Now, it's like he's crossed the line after a million years of detox, because he's floating on a high like no other, lying there next to her. It feels like some weird fever dream, even more so when she pops another cigarette between her lips and smiles as she lights it.
She tangles her fingers in his underneath the sheet and closes her eyes, almost like she's pretending she's seventeen again and not dealing with a drug problem and everything else that comes with being an adult. Like it's all that easy.
"That was stupid," she says, almost amused.
"Stupid stuff is usually pretty fun."
She leans her head on his shoulder, a swell of black hair scratching a little at the stubble on his chin. "I thought about you a lot. When I was puking my guts up and shaking and crying and wanting it all to be over…"
Hyde snorts. "I'm flattered."
She smacks him playfully on the chest. "I was thinking about how much I wished you were there. I knew you would be tough on me, but you would be tough for me too."
He's not positive about that. As tough on her as he could be in the past, he's had a bit of a soft spot for her since that crazy summer.
"Looks like you did pretty well on your own."
She sits up, sucking in quite a bit on her cigarette and blowing the smoke out in one huge puff. "I tried to think like you. I do that a lot when I need to be tough."
"I don't know if that's good or not."
"I missed you." She speaks slowly, and her voice sounds older to his ears. "You really have no idea how many times I thought of looking for you."
"Why?" he asks.
She looks at him like he's crazy. "You're the only guy I ever really fell in love with."
"Kelso? Fez?" He questions, paranoid of that easy statement of hers.
"Kelso was my first." She sighs. "I thought I loved him, but I didn't. Fez was great but…" She puts her cigarette out on a table next to the cot that's got plenty of burns all over it anyway. "Neither of them had the heart to call me on bullshit. You helped me grow up, Stephen. I mean, I couldn't stop thinking how if Fez had just… said something… about my habit. I may not have gotten in so deep."
She's trembling a little. It's a bit chilly in the Forman's basement. Kitty used to make sure that he always had extra blankets when he lived there.
He sits up and wraps his arms around her. "So, now what?"
"I have no idea."
He loves her. He has for a long time.
Some things never change.