A/N Argh. I'm halfway through season 7, and it's already killing me! How on earth am I going to cope with season 8 when the pain and inconsistent characterisation of this season is enough to already make me totally anguished? Apparently, the answer is by writing more fanfic... I suspect I am going to have intersperse my watching hereon with watching season 5 again to stop myself becoming totally depressed... In the meantime, I'm publishing this chapter and staying up stupidly late to do so because I really, really needed the lift!

This entire chapter evolved from thinking about Jackie and Hyde's exchange about her needing shiny things and Hyde asking if a foil-wrapped burger would be good enough. And from him, it was...

Oh! And I've re-posted chapter 4 - Love of My Life - as it seems like there was some kind of weird glitch where not everyone could see it.

Hope you enjoy.

Perfect Imperfections

Jackie came with high standards. A code she proudly upheld.

She'd learnt from watching her father with his many minions: allow people to slack, and they'd stop trying; loosen the reins, and they'd stop obeying.

Drop your standards and before you knew it you were no longer being treated in the manner you deserved.

Once upon a time she would have sworn nothing could be worse than not getting her way. That nothing was more important than being given pretty things, being adored and being obeyed.

And then she fell for Steven. Someone who'd accept her gifts, but couldn't be bought. Someone who'd kiss her down to her soul, but refused to revere her. Someone who could occasionally be cajoled, but never forced to give way. And most of all, someone who didn't give a rat's-ass about giving her pretty things.

She'd dropped every one of her standards for him. And lived a life a thousand times better because of it.

And then he'd gone, and taken all his fiery beauty with him.

And no amount of shiny objects (a career in television), adulation (Fez's worshipful gaze) or even dreams coming true (finally being proposed to by Michael) could fill the hole he'd left behind.

Worse, she'd realised she didn't even want those things anymore. Being with Steven had irrevocably changed her.

But she couldn't bring herself to regret the changes. Even if he had changed in turn, and not for the better.

Even if he'd stopped being the boy that had made her change in the first place. Even if he'd hardened, roughened and left her. In every sense of the word.

Even if he'd stopped being Steven, and become Hyde.

The day he'd met her gaze and she saw a flash of blue in those hard slate eyes, saw a glimpse of Steven, of the boy she'd fallen for – that day had felt like her first proper breath in years. An electric current of feeling had run from her perfectly coiffed hair to her beautifully pedicured toes.

That was the day she'd broken things off with Fez and Hyde had found her crying on the porch.

That was the day he'd awkwardly patted her and told her she'd be okay.

That was the day they'd begun the journey back to one another.

And it hadn't come easily. He still didn't worship her. They still fought and disagreed. They would never slot together effortlessly; their pieces were too different. But their contrasts came together to make something bigger, brighter, better than when apart. Even more so than before.

That was one of the side-effects of having been broken – you had more choices about what to do with the pieces, more scope to create something new.

So they chose one another. And they chose to grow and change together.

And she knew that there were some steps he might never want to take. Formalities he distrusted even before Sam's betrayal. She still brought it up, of course, but the bite had left her tone, and the fear had left her heart. She'd come to realise it was institutions Steven couldn't love. Not her.

And in the meantime, life was good. Life was challenging. Life was full.

The day they were walking through town on a blustery fall morning was a day like any other. Ordinary and perfect.

She was wearing a new peasant blouse, brightly embroidered across the chest.

A fluttering of purple against white caught the corner of her eye. She looked down to see a thread had worked free from the rest and was blowing in the breeze, threatening to unravel the design. She'd tutted in consternation, mourning and moaning the loss of its perfection.

Steven had watched her as she ranted, with the oddest smile on his lips. Eventually she'd crossly asked him if he was listening to her.

Leaning forward, he'd pulled the thread taut in one hand and snapped the end free with his teeth.

The look in his eyes left her struggling to breathe without knowing why.

He took her left hand in his and wound the thread tight. She registered a pressure on her finger and saw the circle that he'd made. He raised his eyebrows in question.

Her hair was blowing in her eyes. His jeans were dusty and torn. The street was dirty and grey.

She couldn't care less.

As she covered his face in kisses and gave her 'yes' through her tears, all she could think was how much he must love her.

Why else would he be willing to put her needs first?

Why else would he be happy to change his standards for hers?

fin