Okay, so.

Maybe in retrospect, he may have been a little hasty. To be fair, he wouldn't have gone through with it if he dwelled on it too much.

And now here they are, and she's screaming in his face, and he's letting her, because yeah, this was his doing and she has a right to be a little pissed off. He doesn't try to wedge in any words during her furious tirade, mostly because she won't let him until she wears herself out a little bit.

He knows he embarrassed her. That wasn't his goal, obviously, but he's willing to admit to it and maybe he embarrassed himself too. Well, maybe not just a little, but at this point he just had to do it.

"How could you? How could you?" Jackie's shoving his shoulders as punctuation to questions that don't really feel like questions. Eric wants to say how could I not? But history dictates he waits a bit longer until he opens his mouth.

She stops assaulting him long enough so he can reposition himself away from the edge of the cliff of Mount Hump. Lying dead at the bottom surrounded by old panties and garbage doesn't seem like a dignified death, although by the way Jackie's going on, it'd be a fitting one.

Yeah, so maybe this wasn't the best idea he's ever had.

Eric watches her as she rounds on him, hands on hips. "Explain yourself, Eric." He thinks this might be the cue until she snaps at him, "How could you? What were you thinking?"

That's-shit-that's a good question. Eric really does have reasons and explanations, but knowing them and saying them are two different things entirely. Really, though, he needs to say something because he's the reason he's sweating in a suit in the July heat and the hem of Jackie's wedding dress in laced with dirt.

"Are you deaf?" She screeches at him.

He scratches the back of his head and takes a deep breath. So, aside from the actual action he preformed, he hadn't really said anything. It's weird, because knowing Jackie; he figured she'd understand what he'd done and presumably why he did it.

Shit. This was supposed to be a grand romantic gesture on his part but now he can hear the echo of his father's words about assumptions and asses and you and me and whatnot.

"Eric! The best man just dragged the bride out of the wedding," she grits out. Perhaps now is the best time to say something, right?

Any time now would be great. It's all just a matter of willing the words from his brain to his mouth. Eric opens his mouth quickly trying to think of what exactly to say. Instead of the slew of things he's feeling, he just mumbles something about just wanting to talk to her. Perfect.

Maybe life is only allowing him a certain number of brave acts, which seems fitting. He can interrupt her wedding and drag her out here, but can't actually say anything. Yeah, that seems about right.

Eric closes his eyes and braces himself for the oncoming onslaught of tiny fists, but none come, much to his surprise. He dares to crack open an eye to see her slumped up against the back of the Cruiser, veil askew.

"What are you doing, Eric?" She says it quietly and without looking at him, and damn it, this wasn't what he was trying to do.

So it's his turn now. He has her undivided attention. He can do this.

"I…Jackie, I can't let you marry him." He positions himself as close as he dare to her. "You know how I feel about you. I know- I know- you said it was over. But please don't do this." There. Yeah, it's done and he knows there's so much more to it-

"Maybe," she says as she stands directly in front of him, "I deserve better than being your…your tawdry little secret." Right, so there is that and she's not wrong.

She's not wrong, which is precisely why they're standing here and why she was willing to accept a marriage proposal from a documented cheater and not him.

A small finger jabs into his chest. "You were a coward." They are meant to be together, Eric thinks, because they both came to that conclusion.

The sum total of Eric and Jackie's relationship was good-really good- except that he was ridiculously wary of the backlash of their friends (and being honest, his parents too) and she had been a willing participant until things got a little more heated and intense.

And, being honest here, he hadn't fought much when she declared it over between them and decided to take up their friend's offer to give her the things she's always wanted.

Okay, so. This is why they're here.

Hasty was exactly the right word.

"Tell me. Tell me you don't want me and I'll take you back there. Marry him, if that's what you want. I had to, like, try." He's defeated because she's right and the earlier surge of adrenaline caused by yanking her by the wrist out of the church has faded. He slips off the suit jacket, welcoming the breeze and walks to the passenger door, holding it open for her.

She looks so small standing there and it takes whatever willpower he has left not to pull her into his arms. She's not his any longer, and the sooner he can accept that, the better. Shit, he should have done it ages ago.

Jesus Christ, he's a dumbass.

"You idiot," she mumbles as she wrings her hands.

Yeah, he's an idiot too. No arguments there. Let's also not forget awkward and stupid and completely wrong.

He watches Jackie approach him slowly and it isn't until she's flinging herself in his arms that he can maybe let himself think that maybe he wasn't that wrong.

"You're such an idiot," she laughs, although when she says it into the crook of his neck it is the most beautiful thing he's ever heard.

"But I'm your idiot, right?" He ventures cautiously.

Taking his face in his hands, she plants a hard kiss on his mouth. So, that answers that.

He lifts her up and spins her around feeling about a million feet tall. She laughs again and when he puts her down and rests his forehead on hers, he really commends his ability to make a stupid, rash decision.

"Let's just go. You and me. We'll just…run away." Apparently he's not done saying ridiculous things, but he can't help it. Today is ostensibly the day where Eric Forman throws caution to the wind.

Jackie's eyes fill with tears and she laces her fingers behind his head. "Okay," she whispers.

Okay.

So.

As he's pulling back onto the road, with a very unmarried Jackie Burkhart next to him, he glances at the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of her veil- that she unceremoniously tossed out the window-caught in the breeze in a swirl of dust.

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