Memento

Jackie drew Hyde's jacket tightly around her shoulders with a sigh of content. It was still warm from his body, and the faint scent of smoke and alcohol lingered in the fabric. Pulling its sleeves over her hands, she smiled fondly. She wanted to remember this night with this sweet, scruffy man sitting beside her on the hood of her father's Lincoln, just as it was, forever.

"Steven?" she started. He turned to look at her, and she said simply, "You're never getting this jacket back." He furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head, but he didn't protest.