Title: Hard Goodbye

Author: Hellcat The Wicked

Disclaimer: Nothing 70's is mine. I wasn't even alive for the 70's.

Summary: The letter to Hyde is delivered, with consequences to follow.

Jackie ran a hand through her long, raven hair, pleased with the way her hot rollers had done their job, and went about her daily chores. Mascara, eyeliner, eyeshadow, lipstick, blush, all carefully and artfully applied to flawless caramel skin. Her mismatched eyes, one hazel, one brown, were fabulously rimmed with black and brown, highlighting their unusualness and their overwhelming beauty. She was a mesmerizing woman, and she would be damned if everyone around her didn't acknowledge it.

Jackie stood nude before her closet (after she'd made sure Fez was nowhere to be found) and chose a gray cashmere sweater, a black knit skirt, and a pair of black knee-high boots. When she was satisfied with her clothing, she chose a pair of heavy earrings, old and made of glittering gold coins. If there was one thing Jackie Burkhart knew, it was fashion. After a moment's worth of thought, she chose a pair of gold bangles, which she layered on her left wrist. Pleased with herself, she lifted a bottle of Chanel Cristalle parfum and sprayed herself liberally with the blend of citrus, honeysuckle and hyacinth. Steven had always adored her scent, and every so often she had caught him smelling her hair when he'd thought she was asleep.

She took one final glance in the mirror, startled by the striking beauty before her, and snatched her black, leather jacket off her bed. It was new, a gift from her mother, and it was the final touch to her fabulous new look.

Upon entering the Forman house, she was met with two conflicting scents. She'd always been intimately fond of the smells in the Forman house, but something had changed. The smell of Eric's cologne was conspicuously absent, and instead of cookies and home-cooked food, there was only the lingering aroma of alcohol. The only thing that remained consistent was the sticky-sweet perfume that had permeated the entire house, and it belonged to Sam.

Jackie knew that Red was the only one home, and that he would not say anything if she asked him not to. She went into the study to talk with him, hoping to draw some kind of comfort from the cold, compassionate man.

"Hello, Jackie," he said, nodding in her direction. "You look nice today."

He sat in his study, polishing a pair of shoes, and drinking a can of beer. This image was not unfamiliar to Jackie, but in that moment she was seeing him with new eyes. He seemed older, wearier, and the dark-haired girl was inclined to believe that it had much to do with Eric's absence.

"Hi, Mr. Forman. I – erm – wanted to leave this for Steven, is that okay?" she asked.

Red paused and looked up at her, taking in her appearance and her expression. She seemed more polished than she had in some time. It was a sight he both welcomed and dreaded. It was the day she said goodbye. He'd known it would come since Sam first appeared. Red had always known that Jackie was far too good for Steven, and that Steven would pull some "dumbass" shenanigan and ruin everything.

"Are you sure you want to do that, Jackie?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. Jackie nodded solemnly, and gestured vaguely to the small, brown package in her hand.

"Its – uhm – kind of a goodbye, Mr. Forman."

"I see..." he paused and studied her a moment longer. Jackie was stronger than anyone ever thought she was. "Where will you go?"

"I'm headed to Paris. My flight leaves in three hours, so will you give this to him in four?"

"Of course." Red nodded toward the girl and took the package gruffly. He did not want to be the one to deliver such ill tidings, but he also knew that Steven had this coming. Red offered her a brief smile, and a briefer hug, and let Jackie cry on his shoulder for a moment.

"I'm going to miss you, Mr. Forman. You were a better father to me than my own. Thank you."

Red blinked back his own tears, hating that he was so close to losing his composure. In truth, he hadn't been close to tears since Eric left, but seeing Jackie go was almost too much. She was too sweet a girl to have to live her life under current circumstances.

"Take care of yourself, Jackie," he murmured, offering her one last hug. "Call when you get settled."

"I will, thanks."

She smiled brightly and bid him a fond farewell, then left the Forman house without a backwards glance. Blinking her own modest tears away, she admitted to herself that of all the people in Point Place, she would miss Red the most.

She returned to the apartment that she shared with Fez and finished packing her bags. Anything that did not fit in her four suitcases would get left behind. She could always replace the odds and ends, things that did not matter. She was surprised at the ease with which she was abandoning her old world. Jackie knew that there certain hurts would never heal, but she was more than willing to pretend that they would, particularly if it meant that she could be free. All she wanted in that very moment was to be free of everything that had become so familiar, and to forget.

She closed her eyes and imagined Steven's face when he opened the package. His ratty T-Shirt wrapped around a scrap of violet stationary, still smelling vaguely of her perfume. She knew that he would wear the facade of complete Zen, and pretend that nothing he read mattered, but she knew he would be affected by it. She knew that everyone would feel her loss, and that those that loved her best would blame Steven and Samantha, as they should. She knew also that she would be forgotten, and that Steven would continue living out his days with his tacky, stripper-wife, and never think of her again.

She was coming to terms with that, and in place of sorrow, anger was beginning to surface. She hardened her heart against Steven's memory and vowed to forget him once she was out of Point Place. That was when she noted the contents of her bags. So many of her possessions were tainted with Steven's presence.

More importantly, they were probably out of style.

She filled a black, leather bag full of her best jewelry, makeup, and hair care products. She did not bother adding Cristalle to the bag. It reminded her too much of Steven, and despite how empowered she felt when she wore it, she refused to be reminded of even her finest memories. She sighed and called a taxi, thankful that Fez would not be home for another hour or so. Jackie Burkhart, the girl who loved grand entrances and exits with passion, would be gone before anyone dared notice. And she was glad of it!

She wrote a brief note to Fez, explaining her situation and leaving a check to cover the next three months worth of rent. It was the least, she said, she could do. She wanted to tell him that she loved him and that she would miss him, but she couldn't bring herself to write any of that. Instead, she scribbled a goodbye, streaking the paper with her tears, and left the name of the hotel she would be staying at until she found an apartment.

'And,' she thought, 'until my French gets better.' She smirked and signed her name in the curling, aristocratic handwriting she was famous for. That fantastic Jackie signature that would someday be as known to the world as the curves of her face. 'Soon...' she told herself, smiling. 'Everything will be better soon.'

It occurred to her that everything should have been harder. She should have been more upset about leaving and turning her back on her whole world, but she was beginning to realize that there wasn't much worth staying for any longer. Michael might have been able to talk her into staying, as he'd always understood her better than anyone else, but with him gone, she felt as though her last ties to Point Place were completely cut. She had no family, only a fortune, and she saw no reason why she could not spend that fortune elsewhere. And the few friends that she still counted, Donna and Eric, Fez and Randy, were certainly not worth staying with.

Never mind that she was not overly fond of Randy. Jackie sighed and took one last look around her room. She hoped Fez would find a roommate before the money ran out. She hoped that Donna would be able to keep up with her roots without Jackie's constant reminders.

Pausing over her pile of products that would not fit into her carry-on, she decided to leave a deep conditioner for Donna, just in case she forgot that Suave and Prell were not sufficient for color-treated hair. She scribbled Donna's name on the bottle and left it on the vanity. Then, she decided to leave her hair cream for Fez, just in case he ran out of his. And, to show that she was not a horrible person, she left the perfume that Steven had been so fond of to Sam. She scribbled their names on tiny cards and tacked them to each product until she was satisfied that she was a giving and wonderful person.

She heard a car honk in front of her building and froze, smiling. She could put it off no longer. She shouldered her bag and left the apartment, her eyes misty with more than just sorrow. She was happy. She was finally letting go.