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

Author's Note: Jackie, Hyde, and Eric star in this fic, too. Just later.

CHAPTER ONE
HOT SAND

Donna breathed in the California air, relieved to be out of Kelso's Microbus. They'd parked in front of Mom's rental house, where pink, yellow, and white flowers grew in pots. The sky was a deeper blue than she'd ever seen, but she sagged against the front door, appreciating the flowers' aroma more than the splendor of Malibu.

"Kelso," she said, gesturing toward the back of the house, "drive around already!" Though Kelso's Volkswagen was a cool-looking ride—it had a follow-a-rock-band-around-the-country vibe—it was also blocking her view of the neighborhood. "I told you where the garage is!"

The Microbus's engine shut off in response. Kelso stumbled onto the sidewalk, gasped at the fresh air, and muttered, "Stupid mermaid."

Her lips pressed together, trapping a snarky comment, but she really couldn't blame him. She wouldn't have lasted a second longer inside that death trap. The stink of rotten fish had followed them from Wisconsin and across six states. They'd searched for the source in Lincoln, Nebraska, digging their hands into the seat cushions. Upon finding nothing, Kelso came up with myriad theories, but only one stuck: the Microbus was haunted by a mermaid.

"But going to California will solve all that," he'd said in Glenwood Springs, Colorado. "The mermaid's ghost just needs to be returned to the open sea."

He elaborated on his theory at various points, and it entertained her at first, making the drive seem shorter. Then, once he got into the details of inter-species sex, she wished for sweet death. "But who was the first guy who fucked a fish?" he'd said in Utah's Fishlake National Forest. "And how big was that fish? It must've been, like, a whale."

"Whales aren't fish, dumbass," she'd said. "They're mammals."

"Oh. That makes more sense. Whales are mammals, and humans are mammals, so they gotta be compatible, right?"

She never answered him, though he asked a dozen times. The prospect of enduring this kind of nonsense all summer had given her a headache. It dotted her mind with scorpions, already a wasteland of bleak thoughts. Aspirin didn't help. Only Eric could do that, and he was over two-thousand miles away.

Kelso, however, was about a foot away. He'd joined her on the porch, and she rang the doorbell while he yammered on about the beach.

"Where's your mom?" he said after a minute and tried to unzip her duffel bag. "I gotta buy sunscreen, and I don't wanna be all red and scaly for the Cali chicks."

She smacked his hand off the zipper and adjusted the strap on her shoulder. "If you want something, ask," she said.

"Who's got time to ask? I need protection, Donna. The sun's brighter here than in Wisconsin!"

"It's really not," she said, but the weather was definitely warmer. A short walk would take them to Malibu Lagoon State Beach. Swimwear was packed in her bag, but Kelso had left Point Place with just the clothes on his back. He'd withdrawn money in Kenosha from his bank account. Bought a cheap shirt and deodorant, but he'd have to spend the rest on a summer wardrobe.

She rang the doorbell again, more forcefully. She hoped Mom hadn't been called to work an earlier shift, but she had the restaurant's phone number and address just in case.

Kelso put his ear to the door. "I hear something. I think she's—" The door opened before he could move and bashed his face. "Ow!"

He stepped back, rubbing his check and temple. His pain lifted her mood, but the sight of Mom in the doorway, appearing tan and healthy, brought an unexpected measure of peace.

"Donna?" Mom said. "Oh, my God, your father and I were worried sick!" She opened her arms wide, and Kelso dashed into them.

"Midge!" he shouted and pressed his chest into hers. "I missed you so much!"

Donna grabbed his shoulders and yanked the him backward. He crashed into a flower pot, but she took her place in Mom's arms and said, "I'm sorry I didn't call you again after last night. We just wanted to get here and kept on driving." She shut her eyes as Mom held her, feeling much younger than seventeen. "I should have called."

"Oh, I don't care," Mom said. "I'm just glad you're here and safe." She kissed Donna's head then broke from the embrace. "But I thought you'd taken the bus. What's he doing here?" She jutted her chin in Kelso's direction. "You're not dating him to spite his brother? Or Eric?"

"No way!" Donna suppressed a gag. The idea of dating another Kelso was nauseating. "He and I both needed to get out of Point Place for a little while, and he offered to drive me."

"Okay, but I have to warn you..." Mom led them into a living room decorated in ocean blues and sea-foam white, "I only have one guest bedroom, and it's cozy."

"That's all right," Kelso said and slung his arm around Donna's shoulders. "Me and Big Red—"

"Hey! I told you to stop calling me that." Donna scowled at him, but he squeezed her shoulders in a sideways hug, as if she hadn't said anything.

"We go way back," he went on. "Man, we're practically siblings. I think we can handle staying together in a small room."

"Yeah … no." She elbowed him in the ribs, and he backed off with a grunt. He'd hit on her constantly during the drive here. A breast-grab in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. A knee-squeeze in St. George, Utah. No matter how many times she told him to stop, or how badly she hurt him in self-defense, he never gave up.

But, much to her on-going distress, she didn't hate the attention. Each time he copped a feel, his touch revolted her less and less. Casey had dropped her like a torn mudflap, and Eric saw her as spoiled goods. Knowing that someone wanted her, even a submental man-whore, had become a kind of consolation.

Kelso groaned. "Fine, no bed-sharing!" And he jerked his hand toward the rattan sofa. "You'll take the couch, Big D, and I'll take the room."

"Ha, ha, ha..." She blanked-out her expression, hoping her dull stare sent the message, and linked arms with Mom. "Show me the guest room."

"Wait for me!" Kelso followed closely, stepping on Donna's heels. Her left shoe partially came off at the doorway.

She turned around and gripped the door frame with both hands, blocking him from the room. "Have fun on the sofa, dink." Her left foot swung toward his crotch, and he leapt backward. "Your reflexes are getting better."

"Yup, that kick to my beanbags in Vegas really taught—"

She slammed the door and cut off his last words. Mom began a short tour of the guest room, describing the sparse furniture and cramped space in optimistic terms. Donna put on a smile, but without Eric the summer was going to suck. Big-time.

Making the phone call to Dad was uncomfortable. Donna had given messages to him on the road through Mom, but now she had to talk to him herself. She put on her sweetest voice when he picked up, and after his declarations of love and relief, he tried to ground her.

"Can't it wait until I get back home?" she said. "After everything that's happened, I really need a vacation. To, you know, regroup."

The phone went silent, and she held her breath. Was he consulting Joanne? A hushed, "I know, I know," came through the receiver, but a moment later he agreed to Donna's request. Not that he could enforce a grounding from Point Place. "But when you get home," he said, "you are grounded, young lady. … Um, when do you think that'll be?"

"Back in time for school," she said and coughed for air. The pain in his voice had closed around her lungs. She'd never intended to hurt him, and she didn't speak again until her lungs sucked in a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry for running away. It had nothing to do with you. … I love you, Dad."

"I know, Pumpkin. I just hate that you're so darned sad, but Eric—"

"Dad, stop." She twisted the phone cord around her fingers. "He's off-limits for the summer, okay?"

He didn't argue, and they hung up as the smell of bacon wafted into the room. Mom had cooked lunch, and Donna followed her nose to the kitchen. Kelso was already seated at the breakfast table. She sat across from him, and Mom served them cheese omelets.

"So," Donna said after Mom sat next to her, "how have the auditions been going?"

Mom's face brightened "Oh, they've been wonderful! I landed a national commercial for fabric softener; can you believe it? I thought my ad for the local Ford dealership was big, but the money I've made let me go part-time at my waitressing job. Now I have more time to audition!"

Donna bit into a piece of bacon. "Thank God. I hate where you work."

"Why?" Kelso said. "Is it a dump? Do rats poo in the food?"

"No." Donna sipped her orange juice and tried not to think of the bubonic plague. "It's a bar and grill where middle-aged men ogle the female waitstaff." She wrinkled her nose. "It's demeaning."

"It isn't demeaning, honey," Mom said. "The other waitresses are half my age, but I get the biggest tips."

Kelso chuckled. "That's because you probably have the biggest jugs."

"Kelso!" Donna slammed her fist into his arm, causing his fork to drop to his plate.

"Ow! That one's gonna show on my skin." He rubbed his arm and grinned. "You've made me all rugged-looking with these bruises. Beach chicks are gonna fall all over me."

She flicked a bacon crumb at him. His ability to turn negatives into positives was enviable, but she steered the conversation away from his libido … with only moderate success. Fortunately, Mom seemed oblivious to his innuendos. He tried to explain them while she and Donna did the dishes, but Mom didn't listen. She was too excited about showing Donna the ocean.

Malibu Lagoon State Beach—or Surfrider Beach, as locals called it—was full of tan surfers and sunbathers. Donna didn't look directly at them. Their sunny attitudes threatened to burn her retinas. If they had any problems, none of them were conspicuous, but sand flew into Donna's sandals with each step. It was gritty beneath her feet, a reminder of the road she'd chosen.

Wisdom might've come too late to save her, but Kelso still had time. His gaze roved the sand as Mom brought them closer to the shoreline. Technically, he was still with Jackie. He was just "taking a break," as he'd explained days ago. That being the case, Donna wouldn't let him cheat on Jackie again, not on her watch.

"Jackie would love it here," she said as a big-breasted blond strode past them. Her bikini barely covered her, and Donna grabbed hold of Kelso's shirt before he could give chase. "If you go after that girl, you're sleeping on the beach tonight."

He fell back in line, faster than Donna expected. "I can't sleep on the beach! Sand'll get into my ass crack."

Mom shushed him and pointed to their left. "Look over there," she said. A pier stretched out into the ocean. Not quite a boardwalk, but according to Mom, it had a cafe, shake shack, and a tiki bar. One could also rent beach equipment there or hire a boat.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Mom said minutes later at the shoreline. "The ocean's so blue! I never knew water came in that color until I got here."

Donna nodded as the surf rushed over her toes. The water was colder than the sand, but her brain remained parched. Kelso's whining didn't help either: he wasn't beach-ready; he couldn't showcase his natural bulge without swim trunks; his skin was burning.

To shut him up, they went inland from the beach to a row of shops. They stopped in front of one that sold swimwear, but Mom had to get ready for work. She kissed Donna on the forehead and cupped her chin. "I'm so glad you're here, honey."

"So am I," Donna said, but with Kelso by her side instead of Eric, the words were a lie.

Donna and Kelso sat by the crashing waves, after spending a half-hour buying supplies. Swimsuits, sunscreen, and two long towels protected their skin, but nothing kept Donna's thoughts from burning. Unlike the waves, regrets about the last year refused to ebb.

Kelso, though, seemed as carefree as ever. He drank from a frozen smoothie and pointed out the local sights. "I'm in heaven," he said, following a loud slurp. "Chicks don't dress like this in Wisconsin. Hell, chicks don't look like this in Wisconsin..." he glanced at Donna, "except for one. You should bleach your hair and start wearing bikinis instead of that boring one-piece. Bring some California to Wisconsin."

She groaned, even as blood heated her neck. He had to be concocting a plan to sleep with as many California girls as possible. He'd probably tell her all about it, too.

"So," he began, and she prepared to give him a speech about monogamy, "you ready to tell me why you ran away?"

Her shoulders stiffened, and her gaze shot to the ocean. Surfers were paddling from the shore on their boards, lining up to catch waves. On the way to California, Kelso had bugged her about Eric at every state border: Did Eric say anything stupid? Gloat about Casey flaking out?

She chewed on a fingernail then stopped herself. It was a bad habit she'd developed on the road. "Why do you want to know so badly?" she said.

"To see if there's something good I can burn Eric with when we get back. Oh, and 'cause I care about you and stuff."

"You do not. You just wanna get into my pants."

"Of course I wanna get into your pants. So what? That doesn't mean I don't care about you."

She searched his face for any insincerity. The nape of her neck grew hotter when she found none. "Huh. You really mean it."

"Well, yeah. Like I said before, we've known each other a bajillion years. You had my back when I was cheating on Jackie, and you totally could've burned me with it. Even Hyde kept trying to get me caught, but you didn't."

His sentiment soured her stomach. What she'd done wasn't praise-worthy. She and Eric had both chosen Kelso over Jackie, convincing themselves they were protecting her from pain. But the truth was they'd been protecting Kelso … and themselves. She'd thought less of herself ever since. Worse, she couldn't say she wouldn't do the same thing again.

"You're a real friend, Donna," Kelso said and tore the top off his smoothie, He tipped the large cup toward his mouth, and the last bits of slush tumbled out. "And I knew Casey was gonna hurt you. And I told Eric to get you away from him."

The heat from her nape traveled to her cheeks. "You did?"

"Yup. If you think I'm bad, Casey's, like, a thousand times worse. I mean, I can't believe you fell for his I'm-going-to-a-car-show act all those times he went out of town."

Her cheeks flushed hotter than the beach sand. She should have known better about Casey, but she'd been in too much pain. With Mom gone and her breakup with Eric, falling for Casey's sweet-talk was all too easy. "What is it with you Kelsos?"

"We think it's selfish to give this," he waved a hand over his body, "to only one woman."

Her gaze dulled. "Seriously."

"Totally."

A giant wave broke against the shore. Women swimming nearby screamed as the ocean tossed them at the beach. Sand coated their arms, legs, and buttocks, but no bones appeared to be broken. Only pride, especially for one woman whose bikini had been pushed above her breasts.

She yanked the bikini back to its proper place, but she hunched over as she bolted to her sunbathing spot. Her humiliation mirrored what boiled past Donna's skin.

"Eric never cheated on me," Donna said and grabbed a pair of sunglasses from her beach bag. She put them on, in case her eyes misbehaved by shedding tears.

Kelso nodded. "He's a good guy. He loves you more than he does his lightsaber."

"Yeah." She couldn't stop herself from sounding morose. "I was more important to him than Star Wars."

"No, that's what he calls his penis."

"What?"

His expression froze. "Shit. I wasn't supposed to tell you that." He blinked a few times, and his face regained normal movement. "We all got drunk one night. Like, really drunk, and we fessed up about what we name our parts."

"Yuck! Eric's never said anything about his … part's nickname."

"It's a good thing, too. 'Cause no guy wants to hear, 'Yuck!' from his girl when he describes his iron rod—though Eric's is probably made of cheap plastic."

Donna shuddered. Now she was skeeved out on top of everything else. "Okay, I think we're done here." She gestured to the expanse of beach. "Go find a slut to play with."

"Which one?"

"I don't care."

Kelso's attention wandered over the sand to women lying on towels, to women making sandcastles or running into the surf. After a minute, he shook his head, as if he were in the midst of an existential crisis.

Against her better judgment, Donna said, "What's wrong?"

"There's too many of them. I don't know where to start."

"Give me a break." She pointed to a random girl, who'd just gotten a smoothie from the concession stand. "How about her?"

"She's a brunette. I'm off brunettes. They remind me of Jackie."

"You miss her?"

"I love her … but I don't think we're right for each other. Which is weird 'cause how can you love someone who's not right for you?"

"Ask my parents."

Her response was a whisper. She wasn't sure he'd even heard it, but he eventually said, "Your mom leaving really messed you up, huh? No wonder you dated my brother."

"Shut up," she said and slapped his chest. His skin was warm and tacky with mostly-absorbed sunscreen, but she wasn't angry at him. His attempts at sensitivity were as sweet as they were clumsy. She pointed to a blond walking toward the surf. "Her."

He stared at her selection. "She's got piano-bench legs."

"She's got what?"

"Her legs. There's no difference between her calf and ankle. Yeah, the top of her is smokin' hot, but those legs..." His eyes shut, and his lips puckered, like he'd bitten into raw cilantro.

She gestured to another blond. This one he'd be sure to go for. She was model-tall, had huge breasts, and her legs had defined calves and slim ankles. She was out of Kelso's league, but that had never stopped him before.

"She has a rat face," he said.

"She does not. She's gorgeous."

"Yeah, to rats."

She laughed. "Come on."

"No, thank you. I don't wanna come anywhere near that rat-face."

"Really? A dirty pun? You're as bad as Fez."

"No, Fez is as bad as me." He hiked a thumb at himself. "Where do you think he got it from?"

Donna peered up at the deep blue sky. His sense of humor was gross, but his self-awareness about it was both surprising and refreshing. Nasty jokes, however, wouldn't combat his newfound choosiness. "I give up," she said. "You're on your own."

"But I drove you here. You owe me."

"I'm giving you a place to stay. My mom's feeding you. We're even. Anyway, you never needed help picking up skanks in Wisconsin. You don't need it now."

"But, but—!" He flailed his arm and knocked over his newly-purchased backpack. "I'm overwhelmed here, Donna!"

"Too bad." She moved her feet off her towel and dug them into the hot sand. It was uncomfortable, enough to sear Eric from her mind.

She wiggled her toes in an attempt to bury herself deeper. The sand flew over her feet and tickled her ankles. Kelso, meanwhile, tracked a few women on the shoreline with his eyes. None of them appeared to hold his interest for long, and he said, "Wanna hit San Polo Beach?"

She didn't. San Polo was a twenty-minute drive from here, and they were approaching three o'clock. "Why? Think you'll have an easier time picking out your first California girl?"

"No, but this beach is lame, and your mom said San Polo has a boardwalk and rides. I wanna go where I can eat cotton candy and win things."

She huffed a breath. "You are such a kid." But San Polo did sound like a better distraction than scorching her feet. She stood up and slipped on her flip-flops. "Let's go," she said, "but as a precaution I'm holding onto the keys to your bus."

Because no way would she let him strand her if he found the beach chick of his life.