A/N: Okay, so here's a little plot-bunny that wouldn't go away. It's the first fanfiction I've written in... months, so please be kind. Also, credits for Eric's fabulous quote near the end go to the one and only Erma Bombeck. Please drop a review if you've got the time!

A grinning Eric Forman patted his best friend on the back. Hyde was currently slumped over the bar, one arm haphazardly cradling his ninth beer, the other tucked under his head, serving as a cushion of sorts for his head. The loud neon clock behind the graying bartender declared that it was half past 2 o'clock am – and coming up on closing time. Suppressing at least his 50th yawn of the evening, Eric rubbed at his eyes gently. "Well, if you don't need anything else, I think I'm gonna head home, man."

He'd made it a solid seven hours. That was pretty good, right? He'd officially fulfilled his best man duties now and could turn in without feeling guilty.

"I called myself a cab half an hour ago," he continued, eyeing his sluggish friend cautiously for any signs of inappropriateness regarding his early departure. "So it's probably out front. Best wishes with that hangover you'll be nursing tomorrow, pal, and see you in a week for the wedding-"

"Forman," Hyde croaked suddenly, reaching a tanned arm out to stop his friend. "Wait. I… I gots a questionferya."

Inwardly rolling his eyes at his oldest friend's slurred, drunken demeanor, Eric paused as he folded his jacket over his arm. "Yeah, buddy?"

Hyde shook his head. First just once, then several times. "Y'know, Forman, you're kind of a screw up."

"Oh." Eric nodded, cupping his chin and leaning inwards, feigning interest in the one-sided conversation. "That's… that's a lovely sentiment coming from you right about now. I'm still waiting for the question in there, though-"

Hyde continued without acknowledging the thinner man. "But one thing you always seemed to have a handle on was," he paused here to pooch out his lips and jut his arms out, fondling the air between them, "love."

At this, Eric smiled, knowing there was no way in hell Hyde would remember any of this come morning. God, he was so far gone right now. "I like to think so."

After a well-placed belch, Hyde nodded vigorously, tugging the rim of his beer bottle to his lips and sloshing a copious amount of the amber liquid down his throat in the process. Uncomfortable, Eric fidgeted. He'd tried taking Hyde's beer away from him hours ago, when he was only on number five, and it hadn't been pretty. In the old days, he'd seen Hyde down twelve or more drinks without flinching, though, and somewhere around number seven he'd deposited Hyde's car keys in his own pocket, so… what harm could really be done in allowing his buddy one last night of bachelorhood? Hyde had certainly done as much for him when it had been his turn through all of this.

"You and Donna," Hyde had now slung an arm around Eric's shoulders, and his voice had taken on a sing-songy tone, "You guys have always been together."

"We have." Eric gave a tight-lipped smile, entertained by his usually emotionally-distant friend, but anxious to get home all the same.

"You know you guys are the best example of love I've got? It's true man," he pouched his lips out again and studied them for a few seconds before continuing, somewhat more soberly. "I've never seen anyone make it except you. I've never," he laughed, "I've never seen two people who still like each other once they've been in love." He shrugged, and studied his beer, sloshing the half-empty glass for awhile before looking up at Eric and dropping his shoulders. "I just wonder if me and Jackie have it."

Ah. There it was.

The pre-wedding, man-to-man, 'I'm not freaking out you pansy… but seriously, man, I'm freaking out' talk. Red had delivered it to him four years ago on the hood of the Vista Cruiser. It was the one and only time Eric could remember sitting there with his father. He remembered the moment well. Sighing, Eric dropped his jacket back onto the barstool next to Hyde's.

"Look, man, you and Jackie-"

"How did you know?"

The words cut right through the introduction to the five minute speech Eric had been perfecting all week, stopping him. "How did I know…?"

"Donna." Hyde's eyes were clearer than they'd been all night when he cast Eric a sideways glance and set his sunglasses on the table in front of them impatiently. "You married her, right? Knocked her up? You're together." He paused, trying to in the words. "Just how… how did you know? That it was right."

Eric opened his mouth, and then closed it again. "I didn't."

That stopped Hyde in his tracks. "What?"

Another shrug.

"Forman, you're the most logical, methethodical… safe person I know." He stumbled over the words, but got them out. Their gazes were now locked intently, and Hyde laughed again. "Just tell me… tell me what was, like, your 'sign'." He snorted into his drink at the ridiculousness of his words, but nudged Eric none-too-lightly all the same.

Eric sighed again. "Hyde, I've been in love with Donna for," he tilted his head to the side and scrunched his face in thought, "12? years now. And take it from a guy who was always looking for one – there was no big, flashing sign telling me to marry her."

Hyde's face was empty, unreadable. "But you still did."

"Yeah." Eric dropped his voice and broke his stare, fiddling with his hands against the smooth wood of the bar table.

"Why?"

"Because I trusted it." His words were so soft; Hyde had to strain to hear them. He ducked his head closer to the table.

"Trusted what?"

Eric glanced at him quickly, judging his sobriety, and then looked away again. "Her," he finished quickly. "Us. There's no sign, Hyde." He lowered his voice, remembering well those panic-inducing fears that had kept him up at night for months leading up to his marriage to Donna, and then again when she'd had their son inside of her.

Hyde stared at him for a long moment, his mouth actually agape with drunken surrender. For a second, for a short, short, second, Eric actually thought he might say something truthful. Instead, his face broke into a wide, crazed grin, and he reburied his face in his arms. "Then, shit, Forman. I mean, shit. I'm outta luck." His back shook with his unrestrained guffaws, and Eric contemplated leaving.

But Hyde continued, now in a near uproar over the apparent hilarity of the situation. "I mean, I can't marry Jackie without… without anything solid to go off of. I'm not," he panted, taking another long chug from his bottle, "I'm just not that guy."

Eric shook his head, though. "That's not what I said."

"What?"

"I said there's no sign. Nothing's gonna fall from the sky and beam you upside the head. But that doesn't mean you don't have anything to go off of."

Hyde stared at him for a long moment. A long moment that turned into a long minute, and then a long two minutes. His buzz was wearing off; that was apparent. Finally, he shook his head. "Alright then, Forman. Enlighten me." His beer was gone with one more swig, and when the bartender rushed to replace it with a new one, Hyde shook his head. When Eric didn't speak, Hyde arched his eyebrows. "Go," he asserted pointedly.

"What?"

"You're ready to hit me with some of your mushy, sentimental crap. I can see it in your girly little eyes."

At this, Eric smirked. "Wait, so you're actually giving me permission to-"

"Fomran. I mean," Hyde wrinkled his forehead, utterly perplexed. "Forman. Just go. Make it short and sweet, while I still got some of the good stuff in my system."

"Okay," Eric nodded, grinning and flexing his arms against the back of his chair. It was apparent that he'd been practicing for his big moment, but his breath whooshed out of him when he finally spoke. "You go off of the way her feet feel when they're in between yours in bed," he started softly, sincerely. "You go off of how her hair smells, and how you feel when she walks into a room, and how cute she is when she's mad." He paused, gauging Hyde's reaction. Surprisingly, he was staring at his hands. Not an overly receptive audience by any means, but better than the silent laughter Eric had been expecting. "You-" he faltered. "You go off of the way she talks to you. The things you laugh at together. All of the nights you've spent making love. Those things… Hyde, those are your signs. When it's right, it's just right. You have to believe that above love. And when you know, you just… know. And if you don't know, then you don't know. But if you don't know, then you've got no business marrying someone." His speech finished, Eric fell silent again, letting the weight of his words settle between them.

Hyde's knuckles drummed against the table softly. "Look, man, that's… that's all really nice." Eric was stunned; he was actually being sincere. "But I still don't… I mean, if there was just some kind of… fuck, I don't know, some kind of test I could take to tell me if I'm making a mistake." He glanced up in confirmation that his feeling was a universal one, but Eric had climbed to his feet and swung his coat over his shoulder.

Even though he knew it would annoy his friend in his moment of sincerity, Eric gave a cheeky grin and slapped him on the shoulder. "Hyde, marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live with a car battery."

Hyde accepted the one-liner like a true man; he grunted and pretended not to have heard. When Eric made a move to leave a moment later, though, he stood on wobbly legs. "Fom- Forman," he corrected himself, shaking his head. There was a pointed silence before Hyde nodded once, briskly. "Thank you."

Unable to let this rare opportunity go to waste, Eric crossed his arms good-naturedly and grinned. "But of course. Anytime my poor orphan boy needs a helping hand-"

"Alright, alright; get bent."

"Well I really think you've done enough of that for the both of us tonight-"

"Yeah, yeah. You're the one who used the words 'making love' in a serious conversation three minutes ago." The two shared a bemused grin before Hyde threw his hand in the air, gesturing for his friend to hit the road. "Fuck, get outta here. Don't you have a family?"

"G'nite, man," Eric smiled, watching Hyde turn back towards the bar. "Hey, do you wanna share a cab?"

"Nah. I think I might have a couple more. Kelso's still here somewhere," he gave a half-hearted glance behind his shoulder before shrugging. "Last call's in half an hour. I'll stick around 'til then."

"Alright. But for the record, I really think you should call it quits-"

"Go home, ya jackass."

"Sure thing, chief."