Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

Author's Note: Thanks go to hanselnext for suggesting this scenario to me. :D

ONE DIFFERENCE:
HYDE CATCHES JACKIE
Kissing the Cheese Guy

Part 1: An Infernal Promise

Jackie shivered outside the shopping mall's entrance, but the chilled air wasn't to blame. Wisconsin's cold October weather had done her a favor. It allowed her to hide her ridiculous work outfit beneath her fur-lined coat and wool scarf. The Cheese Maiden dirndl. It was the opposite of elegant. Every minute spent inside the Bavarian-style dress felt like a Halloween nightmare.

At least her coat concealed the dirndl now. It also protected her from the wind. Too bad it had no effect on her missing boyfriend. She shivered harder and tapped her right shoe on the curb. Cars were driving out of the parking lot, a vast expanse of concrete stretching from the mall's entrance. No vans were in sight—and definitely no 1966 Volkswagen Deluxe buses. Where the hell was Michael?

Some law in the universe had to be off, thrown askew by a supernova or other stellar event. The wrong man was appreciating her hotness lately, a man she had no feelings for. Her manager at the Cheese Palace, Todd. A scrawny, Eric-y blond who seemed obsessed with three things: cheese, Star Wars, and Jackie herself. Sure, she made her Cheese Maiden getup sexy, but why couldn't Michael see that?

He should've been outside waiting for her, a half-hour before her shift ended. Begging her to take off her coat, wanting to ogle her in the dirndl. Instead, he'd let her wait a half-hour with no sign he was actually going to show. The sun was already setting.

Enough was enough. She thundered back inside the mall and dashed up the escalators to the third floor. The Cheese Palace's "CLOSED" sign sat atop the shop's decorative barrel, and Todd was sweeping around the cashier counter.

Jackie went behind the counter and picked up the phone. She began dialing Michael's number and gritted her teeth. She hadn't felt this alone since after Veteran's Day last year.

"Jackie..." Todd approached her mid-dial and draped his arm over the cash register, "you clocked out half an hour ago. Did you come back to tell me something? Because I feel the same way."

She ignored the pathetic come on. All men found her irresistible, so she was used to being hit on. But the one man who was supposed to be hitting on her wasn't doing his job. "I was waiting outside for Michael to pick me up," she said, "but the idiot never showed!"

"That's the third time this week." Todd leaned his broom against the counter. "Three strikes and he's out, according to the rules of baseball … and love."

She grunted and hung up the phone. What was the point in calling? Screaming at Michael in person was much more satisfying.."Actually, it's four strikes," she glared past Todd at the escalator, "if you include the time he showed up late because he had to see how The Jetsons ended."

She walked away from the cashier counter, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. She and Michael were supposed to work this time. He'd become more honest, and she'd defied her father to keep dating him. How could Michael not return her loyalty?

"Oh, man," Todd said. He was following her, and she turned to face him. "First he goes behind your back and takes that modeling job, and now this whole Jetsons thing! No futuristic cartoon could ever keep me from you."

She twisted the ring on her left hand. Michael had given it to her as a promise of his eternal fidelity. But what if he hadn't blown her off this past week for his modeling job? What if he'd met someone at his modeling job and was cheating on her again?

She gazed down at the mall's tiled floor, and a tear slid off her nose. "I just don't know what's happening to us."

"Okay, Jackie, you need to cheer up."

She gazed up at Todd, and a welcoming smile spread across his lips. Despite a terrible haircut, his face wasn't so bad. Blond stubble covered his chin, and he reminded her somewhat of Steven's in the eyes. His brows had a distinct arch without being feminine.

"And the first step to cheering up," he said, "is giving Todd a hug."

His smile remained, and he opened his arms wide to her. Finally, someone was giving her the attention she deserved. She reflected back his smile and entered his embrace, but halfway in he pressed a kiss to her closed mouth. Without thought, she closed her eyes, parted her lips and let him inside. His tongue wasn't bold like Fez's, and he had none of Steven's body-melting skill. But Todd wanted her … and being wanted felt nice.

"Holy hell," a familiar voice said behind her, and her heart stopped beating. She pulled her mouth away from Todd's and looked over her shoulder. Steven was standing a few feet away. A shopping bag dangled from his hand.

"Oh, my God," she gasped out. Her heart beat again at the sight of him, surging into a sprint. She wished her legs would follow suit, but she couldn't move.

Steven's throat burst with self-satisfied laughter. "Got yourself a new accessory, huh?"

"What do I do?" Todd said breathlessly. His arms were still around her back but shaking. He looked terrified, as though Steven were armed with a gun, threatening to shoot.

She felt the same way, and she could no longer distinguish the individual beats of her heart. Her pulse was pounding too fast, but Todd needed to get out of here. "Run like the wind!" she said.

Todd released her and bolted back into the Cheese Palace. He fled to the storage room, and its door swung closed noisily.

Steven had stopped laughing, but his smirk burned through her. He might not have had a gun, but his weapon was just as deadly: knowledge. Created by what he'd just witnessed.

Jackie's mind searched for escape, even as she went up to him. "Steven!" she said shrilly. "What are you doing?" Worry cut through her tone, but she utilized it for a diversion. "You shouldn't hang around the mall after you shoplifted! This place is crawling with cops. You know, 'The Fur'?"

"Yeah, you mean The Fuzz … and speaking of fuzz," he gestured to her mouth, "you got some of your boss's beard hair is on your lip."

Her eyes widened in horror, and she frantically brushed her lips.

"And I didn't steal anything." He raised his shopping bag a little. "Had to buy a new pair of jeans. Mrs. Forman threatened to sew a 'Pedal Power' patch on my old ones to cover a rip."

His words didn't register. Her brain was overwhelmed with images of him telling Michael what he'd seen here. "Okay, Steven, I know we don't really talk anymore—"

"You mean, you quit stalkin' me and got back with the guy who screwed around on you?"

Her jaw clenched, "Something like that," and her hands clasped together in beseechment. "So let's extend our not-speaking policy to you not telling Michael what you think you saw."

"Had no plans on tellin' him."

"What?" She stared at him. His mercy made no sense, but then his actual motive struck her. "Oh, God..." the truth gunked-up her stomach like black tar, nauseating her, "you're gonna blackmail me."

"Nope."

Her heart was still pounding, and her nausea grew worse. Suspicion was crawling up her spine, and it settled in her skull as a headache. "Why?"

"'Cause I think it's great, man." A smile softer than his smirk glided over his lips. "Kelso had it comin'. It's karma."

Karma? She cupped her forehead. He was making her headache stronger. "Can you please stop making up words? Why do you always have to do that?"

"No, man. Karma. What goes around comes around. He cheated on you, so you're cheatin' on him. Cosmos is balancing itself out."

"I'm not cheating on Michael. Todd assaulted me, okay?"

"He what?" Steven glanced at the door Todd had fled through, as if he might go after her geeky blond boss. Was Steven still protective of her? Even after all this time?

"Not like that," she said quickly. "I was going in for a hug, and then his lips were on me. I'd never kissed him before today." Her explanation seemed to relax him. His body lost its ready-to-strike tenseness, and she continued. "Things between me and Michael have been weird lately. And when Todd kissed me, I guess I gave in because I felt vulnerable. But I made a terrible mistake."

"Not from where I'm standing."

His response caused her suspicion to burrow deeper in her skull—but about something else. "Do you know something, Steven?"

"Yeah," he said. "That you're lockin' lips with a guy who ain't your boyfriend."

"No." Pressure throbbed against her eyes with her pulse. She needed to sit down, to take some aspirin, to erase this day. "Is Michael fooling around with some skank? Is that why he's been neglecting me?"

Steven hesitated, as if he were unsure how to answer. "If he is, then he's gotten a helluva lot better at hiding it. So … no."

She exhaled with relief, but tears rose in her aching eyes. "I just love him so much!" Her voice echoed through the mall, and he shook his head slightly. "What now?"

He stiffened and said nothing.

"Out with it," she said, wiping her wet cheeks, "or I'll kick you."

"You kick me, and I'll tell Kelso what I saw here."

Her headache finally abated. "So, you really won't tell Michael—as long as I don't kick you?"

He shrugged. "You kissed one dude once. Kelso nailed two girls who weren't you dozens of times." He shook his head again, this time much more pronounced. "You and him aren't even by a long shot. Way I see it, there's nothin' to tell."

"Oh, thank you, Steven!" She thrust herself against his body and embraced him. "Thank you, thank you!"

He stumbled a few steps but hugged her back. Then his arms fell away and hung limply at his sides.

She let go of him a moment later. Her nausea was gone, replaced by confidence. "You're driving me to the basement," she said before breezing past him.

He followed. "You don't have to be rude."

Hyde should've let Jackie walk to the Formans'. Allowing her inside the El Camino invited only trouble. His emotions were bouncing off his ribs like a pinball and racking up points. He'd ignored them all year, relegating them to a dark neglected corner of his body. And once they stopped ricocheting off his bones, he could forget about them again.

He drove the Camino out of the mall's parking lot and put on the radio. Van Halen's "Runnin' with the Devil" thumped through the speakers. It was an apt song. Why the hell did he try talking sense into Jackie? She was like a skipping record, caught in a repeating loop. And Kelso was the phonograph needle, adept at falling into her scratches. She had the potential to be so much more, man. But she was chasing her demons straight to hell.

Hyde turned the Camino onto Green Bay Road. Normally, this route would get them to the Formans' in ten minutes, but traffic was crawling. Must've been an accident up ahead. He tuned to the radio to the local news, hoping to hear something, and Jackie said, "What would youdo if your girlfriend stole your dream?"

"Don't have a girlfriend or a dream."

"Well, if you did. Be hypothetical."

"I don't think that way."

"Come on, Steven."

He blew out an audible breath and stared out the windshield. "I'd realize I felt narcissistically entitled."

An offended gasp squeaked out of her. "You take that back."

"Can't do it."

"All I've ever talked about is being a model," she said. "Why doesn't Michael understand that?"

He swallowed a groan. Traffic had ground to a standstill, but the radio finally piped in with info: "Two-truck collision near the corner of Highway 165 and Green Bay Road."

His forehead lowered to the steering wheel. He and Jackie were going to be stuck together a while—not that she seemed to mind. Her complaints were all about Kelso, and she jabbered on about him for the next few minutes. "He should have considered me, taken another job—"

Hyde straightened up and glowered at her. "Jackie, you also wanna be a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, a TV weather girl, and a freakin' actress. Pick one of those and shut the hell up already."

She broke into a pouty smile, cuter than it should have been. "You know my other dreams?"

"Yeah, 'cause you never shut up the hell up about 'em!"

A breathy, "Well," escaped her, and she tossed her brown hair over her shoulder. "I wouldn't be surprised if Michael tried out for the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders next."

Hyde's patience was disintegrating. He couldn't stand traffic, and he was trapped in his car with Jackie at her worst. "You're an only child," he said. "How can you be so damned attention-starved? Kelso, I get. He has six freakin' siblings. But you have your parents all to yourself."

"No, I don't," she said. "Daddy's always working, and Mom's always out socializing. Anyway, that's besides the point. Michael and I..."

The rest of her words were lost, obliterated by the pinball of his emotion. Finally—after all his time knowing her—Jackie's demons had identified themselves. But he couldn't name them to her. She wasn't in a place to hear him. She just wanted to talk, so he let her.

He tuned the radio back to WFPP, and Eric's Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" trilled out of the speakers. His mind lurched back to the high school gym, back when it was draped in streamers. The song had played during his junior prom. He and Jackie were dancing together. His right palm was warm with her skin. He could barely touch her then, couldn't close his fingers around her hand. Didn't want to.

His goal that night had been to make her feel better. He'd insulted Kelso's date, but it didn't work. Getting Jackie and Kelso back together was the only solution. The truth sickened Hyde to his core, but ever since Junior Prom, her happiness had inexplicably become important to him.

Traffic on Green Bay Road crept forward a foot, and his awareness returned to the Camino. He savored the small bit of distance he was able to drive; then he switched the radio back to the news.

"Why'd you change the station?" Jackie said. "I like that song." She switched the radio to WFPP again, to Clapton and Hyde's memories.

"Look," he said, unable to stop himself, "if you decide to tell Kelso 'bout swapping more than cheese with your boss..." he needed to clamp his mouth shut, to smash the radio to bits, "and he gives you shit about it … I'm open to doin' it with you."

Her mouth dropped open in shock, but he was experiencing a similar disturbance. His emotions had split into multiple pinballs. They were out of his control, scoring points off his sanity.

"You know, as consolation," he continued. "'Cause one kiss ain't gonna be enough if Kelso doesn't take the truth well. And unlike your boss, I'm not tiny, and I don't smell like Limburger."

She slammed her open palm into his chest, hard enough to sting. "Don't be a jerk, Steven."

"I'm serious."

She hit him again. "Don't be a jerk."

"Whatever." He turned his face back toward the windshield. No movement was happening outside the car, but his chest burned where she'd struck him.

"Oh, my God—you're serious," she said minutes later, over the radio.

He shrugged, but he was so serious that his throat tightened, and blood heated his neck painfully. Jackie's heart would need a safe place to crash eventually. He'd been that place for her before, mostly unwillingly. But she was his demon, man ... and he'd more than likely chase her to hell.