The Seeker

White light filtered through the eyelet lace curtains covering Jackie's window. The bright pink walls were mauve in the early dawn, and Steven rolled away, his body stiff from sharing her cramped twin bed. Heaviness hung about the air, the oppressive heaviness that accompanied the first, fresh snow of the year, and Steven sighed.

Steven hated the first snow, hated the knee-jerk reaction it always brought. Mentally, he pictured where his coat was, his brain taking him to the memory of Edna giving it to her current man-thing to wear home after a romp on the living room floor.

Steven rubbed at his eyes, pressing his eyeballs back into their sockets. Multicolored stars covered the inside of his eyelids. He let his hand fall to his side, his eyes squeezed tightly closed.

Jackie shifted next to him, her left leg searching for him in her sleep, her frozen foot a block of ice on his warm skin. Steven shifted away from her; he had never been one to cuddle first thing in the morning, had never been one for conversation before caffeinating.

He left her sleeping, wrapped up in her thick duvet. She would be upset that he had left without telling her goodbye, angry that he hadn't kissed her once "Good", twice "Morning". The lingering kiss he had pressed to her temple would suffice for him, the way it had elicited a small smile to curve Jackie's lips. The sheen of his kiss on her skin, knowing she wasn't awake to subtly wipe it away made him happy in a way he couldn't explain.

Steven rubbed at a smudge of ink on the side of his palm, leftover from his scrawled limerick to her in compensation for his withheld kiss to her mouth. It wasn't one of his best, but Jackie wouldn't care. He propped it on her vanity, leaning it against her bottle of perfume. Moments passed as Steven stood in her room. He acted a voyeur into her life, trespassing on her memories and possessions. For good measure, he had spritzed her scent to his wrist, an action that felt both ridiculous and a bit taboo.

He had stared at the light purple paper on which he had scrawled his words. Its edges were ringed with unicorns and other celestial entities. He felt he should do something equally ridiculous, spray his scent to the small square of paper, or kissed it. Something Jackie would do to show him that all she did was care and love. All she wanted were proofs of his affection. He could give her samples of that, at least.

Steven pressed his wrist to his mouth, breathing softly her scent. He felt increasingly silly, but didn't stop, comforted in the rush of security it induced on his body. It was a heady scent, earthly and strong. He imagined the touch of his mouth to his skin was Jackie's. And just slightly his lips parted, pressing an open mouthed kiss to his skin. It was this last hallucination his brain inflicted upon him that caused him to slap his palm to the steering wheel in equal frustration and embarrassment.

The Camino rumbled as Steven accelerated to enter the highway towards Milwaukee. He jerkily cut in front of a station wagon cruising in the fast lane, flooring the gas pedal. The station wagon blared its shrill horn and Steven flipped them off, waving his erect middle finger in the back window.

The hour-long drive seemed to stretch on forever. He was caught in bumper-to-bumper morning traffic entering the bustling city, and the Camino jumped every time he released the clutch, the both of them itching for open road. He considered driving till the tank ran empty. He could make it to the east coast, maybe even New York. Or maybe he'd go the other direction; see the Rockies, California.

He let those aspirations and wants die on the pavement as he pulled into the Grooves parking lot, idling into his assigned spot in the parking garage. Steven pulled his coat tighter about his body, eyeing the patches of snow that covered the windowsills of the garage. God, he hated the snow.

Grooves Corporate Headquarters was already full of twenty-something's, and Steven entered the elevator amongst the throng. Light piano music trilled overhead as the elevator made its frequent stops, belching out passengers and eagerly accepting new ones. Steven edged to a corner, leaning against the paneled wall; he rubbed at his tired eyes, wishing desperately for a cup of hot coffee.

Gloria greeted him as he stepped off the elevator, jumping up from behind her desk at reception. She smiled brightly at him, clutching her notepad to her chest.

"Mr. Hyde, good morning," Gloria said, following him down the short hall to his office. Steven grunted in reply. Gloria continued, undeterred. She flipped a page on her notepad, tapping the eraser of her pencil on the paper. "Dennis left another message. He said that he would like to know before he starts the credits for last month if there would be any discrepancies with Oshkosh again. There was a message left about ten minutes ago from a girl who would only give her name as The Love of Steven Hyde's Life, You Cow, so I wrote that one down for you." Gloria held out a folded piece of paper, her eyes locked on her notepad. "Oh, and Mr. Barnett would like to see you for lunch. He has someone he'd like to introduce you to."

Steven plopped down behind his desk, taking the folded paper containing Jackie's message from Gloria's hand. He mumbled a terse thanks to her, noting her ambling departure, and the way she lingered at the door. Gloria's heels echoed on the white tile as she walked back to her desk, increasing in speed the further she got from his office.

"Gloria!" Steven hollered. He waited a second, his eyes throbbing with fatigue. He rubbed at his sideburns, staring up at the gaping doorway. "The door, Gloria! The door!"

Gloria reappeared a second later, smiling at Steven as she pulled the door closed with a snap. "Sorry, Mr. Hyde."

Steven fingered the note from Jackie, rubbing the tip of his pointer finger against the sharp folded edge. He contemplated its contents, his thumb sliding between the two folds so Gloria's neat script was visible.

He read Jackie's message swiftly, pursing his mouth. He pondered back to the night before, to Roy's words, and the complete exhaustion he had felt at his relationship. What he needed was some shuteye. Or maybe a beer, but he noted with disdain, the clock read only nine thirty in the morning. The Wild Goose wouldn't open for another hour and a half.

Steven crossed his ankles, perching his feet up on his desk. Six months ago, before the nurse, that was when things were inherently good. There was a semblance of trust. It was the way she looked at him, and came to him for comfort. On the outside he had acted unfeeling and uncaring. And it had cost him her.

Sighing, Steven bunkered down in his chair. You'd think he'd had learned. Push her away, she runs straight back to Kelso. He'd already had to live without her for a month after he had confessed his indiscretion; he wasn't willing to go through that kind of torture again.

-x-

Jackie swiped the nail polish brush over her toes, chewing on her lower lip. She stretched her toes, spreading them apart to keep the polish from smearing. Peter Frampton sang to her from her hi-fi, and she hummed along, waving her fingers over her toes.

"But don't hesitate, cause your love, won't wait."

Leaning back against the side of her bed, Jackie screwed the bottle of nail polish closed, setting it down on the white carpet. She could vaguely hear her mother downstairs, the music increasing in volume the drunker Pam got.

"I can see the sunset in your eyes."

This morning she had awoken inexplicably sad. She blamed it on Steven's lack of farewell kiss. To have spent the night by his side, surrounded by his warmth, only to wake up wrapped like a burrito in her own arms was not the way she had wanted to start today, or any day.

She picked up her lavender stationary, reading his words. For such a scruffy man, who had grown up poor, his handwriting was surprisingly artistic.

There once was a girl from Point Place,

Who has the most beautiful face,

She's got a nice ass,

And is full of sass,

There's none like her in all of space.

After everything that had transpired between them last night, the argument she didn't understand, the anger he had radiated. Jackie had spent all afternoon and night waiting for him to come home. She had been excited at the thought that when he walked through the doors, he would smile and kiss her hello. Not give her an exasperated look and a sneer, asking her what she was doing. Like she was the scourge of the Earth. That had been what had hurt the worst.

"Jackie, I think you're putting too much pressure on him," Eric had said last night, shifting on the couch. He crossed his arms, picking at his sleeve. "He's a scruffy orphan boy, he doesn't know how to love properly."

"But that's just the thing, Eric!" Jackie had retorted. She brought her leg up under her, sitting on her calf. "I'm trying to teach him that! All I've ever done is try to make him better, improve him and shape him into the man that I know will make me happy when we're married."

"Dear God," Eric muttered, his eyes blinking rapidly. "What is it with girls and marriage?"

"'What is it with girls and marriage'?" Jackie parroted, her eyebrows furrowing together. "You were literally engaged to be married a month ago. Followed by a wedding that you ran out on. Why would you even propose, if you were just going to embarrass Donna by abandoning her at the altar? As if being your girlfriend isn't embarrassment enough."

Eric waved his hand in dismissal. "That's beside the point."

The opening notes for the nightly news filled the brief, tense silence. Jackie found she was sitting rigidly, her right hand gripping the back of the couch cushion.

"Look, Jackie," Eric started, licking his lips. His green eyes rose to meet hers, his eyebrows high on his smooth forehead. "You put too much expectation on people. You did it to Kelso, and look how well that turned out."

"Now hang on-" Jackie started, her eyes drifting closed as she took a deep breath to begin her tirade.

"And!" Eric interrupted jabbing his pointer finger into the air, his voice rising over hers. "Now you're doing it to Hyde! You put expectations on people that are so high, there's no possible way they could rise to meet them."

"That is not true!" Jackie sputtered.

"You know it is," Eric said. "Why do you want to get married so badly?"

"Why did you want to marry Donna?" Jackie shot back, suddenly defensive.

Eric's eyebrows rose and fell as he considered his answer. "Well, for starters, she's the only woman I've ever truly loved. She's my best friend. My life without Donna wouldn't be a life worth living. It was the way to prove to her that I was committed to making things work after she went to California and after all the crap with Casey Kelso. Thank you for that, by the way."

"That's all I'm asking of Steven, Eric!" Jackie jumped in. She scooted closer to him on the couch, resting her hand on his forearm. Eric looked at her with trepidation, his eyes pinging from her ever-tightening hand to her face. "All I'm asking is that he prove he wants to spend the rest of his life with me! Marriage proves just that!"

"And what does he say to that?" Eric prompted, his voice hinting that he already knew Steven's answer.

"He says that we're too young and that maybe after high school, or college, or sometime in the future," Jackie recited flippantly. "He can never just give me a straight answer. It's either 'maybe' or he answers my question with a question wanting to know why I want to get married."

"Why do you want to get married?" Eric asked next.

Jackie jerkily sat forward, focusing on the small black and white television. Her foot began to tap on the concrete rapidly. "I want to get married because I want to wear the white dress, and the veil, and I want everyone to get gifts that I tell them to get, and to have a new last name that shows all the other single, gross girls that, I, Jacqueline Burkhart, am indeed far superior."

"So basically you just want a man, any man, to propose to you." Eric stated.

"No, obviously, I want Steven to propose." Jackie corrected.

"But you had also wanted Kelso to propose, and when that didn't happen, you latched on to the next guy. Hyde." Eric said.

"I didn't latch onto Steven, Eric," Jackie sputtered, offended. "We fell in love."

"Devil Woman," Eric mumbled under his breath. He rubbed at his eyes. "Can't you see why Hyde may not want to propose to you?"

Jackie's mouth fell open. "Are you blind?"

"Unfortunately," Eric looked at her, "no."

"Try explaining yourself, Forman, cause all you're doing is talking in circles," Jackie said petulantly.

"A string of suspicious break-ins has the police on high alert in the Kenosha area," Pauline Terry announced, filling the silence that had fallen. "Law enforcement is encouraging the public to report any suspicious activity to their local department, and as always, to be safe and aware of your surroundings."

Eric chewed on his lips for a moment, staring blankly at the TV. His waiter's jacket was dirty and he absently picked at a stain.

"When I proposed to Donna," Eric began, suddenly serious. "It wasn't to prove anything to anyone else. It was just us. That's all that mattered to me."

Jackie's ears began to ring. She drew in a deep breath, holding it in her lungs. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, and she could feel the organ pumping wildly in her chest.

"To be honest, Jackie, it seems like you're trying to prove something to yourself," Eric said softly. His voice was void of derision. Despite herself, Jackie found herself considering what Eric was saying. "I don't know what's going on with you and Hyde. I don't know what's going on at home, with your mom. But I will tell you, that I've never seen Hyde the way he is with you."

Tears had begun to cloud her vision. "How do you mean?"

Eric looked uncomfortable. He pulled at the legs of his pants, sitting stiffly on the loveseat. "In love. Happy."

"Really?" Jackie asked, somewhat skeptically.

"Yeah," Eric said, looking to her. "So, answer me this. Honestly, if you please."

Eric was staring at her, his head cocked back. Jackie massaged her lips together, her hands gripping at her shirt.

"I'll try," Jackie whispered.

"Why do you really want to get married?"

Jackie's mouth opened to respond, but nothing came. Her jaws snapped shut and she felt her face pull into a scowl.

Eric waited patiently. He gave her time to consider her answer, standing from the couch to flip off the TV as the national anthem began to play, the stars and stripes waving across the screen. Jackie didn't object to his choice of music, Styx, instead sitting immobile on the small sofa. Eric perched on the back of the sofa, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Honestly?" Jackie said finally. Her tears had faded unshed, leaving behind a stark numbness that coated her body.

"Yeah," Eric agreed. "Honestly."

"It's because of my parents, I think that's where it all started," Jackie said. She scratched at her temple. "They had this picture perfect wedding. My mother's dress was like Grace Kelly's when she married Prince Rainier. And my father, the way he looked at her. It was like he had never seen anyone so beautiful."

Eric inhaled sharply. He looked as if he wanted to interject, but remained quiet.

"And then- I don't know, they just changed," Jackie said. "It wasn't always so bad y'know, they had a good thing going for a long time. We would go on trips, we would pick out the Christmas tree together, and we always had dinner together."

"What happened?" Eric said softly, his voice soothing.

Jackie rolled her eyes. "Beatrice happened."

"Who's Beatrice?" Eric asked.

"Daddy's secretary," Jackie said. "She helped him embezzle money from the city, and they would go on trips to New York, and Paris. I was supposed to go to Paris, Eric, me! And then this blond tart with a big rack comes into the picture and, suddenly, it's like we didn't matter anymore. And then my mom started drinking a lot, and having affairs, and it was like, true love got stabbed in the heart!"

"Ok, this still isn't explaining why you are so desperate to be hitched to Hyde," Eric said.

"Because I love him!" Jackie cried. Her voice resounded through the basement. "I love him more than I've ever loved anything, or anyone, including me, Eric! I just want to know he feels the same way about me! Is that too much to ask?"

"And the only way he can do that is to put a ring on your finger?"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt!" Jackie said. "Diamonds make life better, dumbass!"

"Jackie, you seriously have a lot of shit to work through," Eric said, shaking his head. "It's all about you. What you want, when you want it."

Jackie's eyes rounded comically. "And?"

Eric's eyes drifted closed, his head falling back on his shoulders. "Lord, grant me strength."

Jackie harrumphed.

"It's not all about you, all the time, in every single little thing," Eric said.

"Well, it should be," Jackie retorted.

"What about what Steven wants?" Eric said exasperatedly. He held his hands out, beseechingly. "What if he can give you everything you want, everything that will make you happy, but doesn't marry you? Will that be enough?"

"No," Jackie said adamantly.

"But why?" Eric nearly yelled, his frustration leaking into his voice. "No! Don't answer; think about it! I'm sure somewhere in your brain there is the capacity to think of others, try to find it."

"I don't understand what it is you're trying to say, Eric!" Jackie threw back. She stood from the couch, beginning to pace around the basement. "Are you saying that I'm not listening to Steven?"

"Thank you!" Eric cried, kissing the tips of his fingers and gesticulating to the ceiling. "Yes! That's exactly what I'm saying, Jackie!"

"I do too listen to Steven!" Jackie argued, her voice sounding weak even to her own ears.

"No! You don't!" Eric lamented. "You're pushing him away, Jackie, with all this "marry me now you piece of crap or I'm leaving you" business."

"Why is it Steven's the victim in this?" Jackie yelled, her voice thick with emotion. "Why can't it be me who's the victim for once? I have dreams, and wants, and ambitions, and what good is all of that if I'm all alone?"

Eric's forehead fell to rest in his palms.

"I do everything to ensure our future, Eric!" Jackie continued, pointing to herself. "I get involved in the society parties. I volunteer with the LOPPS. I study and work hard to get good grades so I can get into a decent school, so one day I can get a respectable job that will make Steven proud. And what does he do?"

"Well, I mean, I thought he had a pretty cool job, working for a record company," Eric said sarcastically. "All I hear you saying Jackie is that you want to live out an episode of The Guiding Light, or something. Drama, drama, drama."

"Oh, what do you know?" Jackie asked rhetorically. "All I want is for him to show me he actually cares about me!"

"How?" Eric asked, his frustration lacing his words. "You want him to paint it on the water tower? Trench it into someone's lawn?"

"No," Jackie said, shaking out her hands. "I just, I want to feel like he means it when he tells me he loves me. I want to feel like he'll be as devastated as I will be if this ever ends. I can't do it, Eric; I can't not be with Steven. That's why I want to get married. I can't stand the thought of it, of him being with someone else."

Eric stared at her agape. "Huh?"

"It makes me so mad, my blood boils," Jackie said. "The thought of what he did with that nurse. Worse than Michael, and he cheated on me a billion times."

"Jackie," Eric said, placating her. "You know Hyde would take that back if he could. He moped for weeks."

"Yeah, well, so did I." Jackie said. "My heart had never felt that kind of pain before."

Jackie plopped on the couch, deflated. Eric tentatively reached out, patting her on the shoulder. Her first reaction was to shove him off, burn him at his sensitivities. But it was comforting, she decided, that someone, even Eric, cared. It was as if he was her only true friend in this world, and she wasn't sure if that thought terrified her, or consoled her.

"I've been alone for so long, felt alone inside myself, I don't want to feel that way all my life." Jackie said, the words pouring out of her like vomit. "Steven makes me feel whole."

The Jackie in her pink bedroom the next day looked around at the walls as if seeing them for the first time. She looked at her record collection, her stuffed animals, and her lace curtains. And everywhere she saw bits of Steven.

The Rolling Stones and the Sex Pistols had been mixed in with ABBA. There was the stuffed dog; it's fur plush and multicolored, which Steven had won for her at the last county fair. He had given her a shy smile, a rare occurrence, sunglasses clipped to the front of his t-shirt and his eyes two sapphires in the glaring sun as he presented the stuffed animal to her. Just thinking of the way he had looked at her, and the ensuing make out and love making it had earned him, was enough to make her hot with want this very second. Jackie stared over at her curtains, imagining Steven pushing them aside as he climbed in through her window. What she wouldn't give for the dream to be the reality. She would kiss him to her hearts content, caress his body with her hands and her mouth.

Jackie stood, walking on the heels of her feet, toes spread apart, over to her make up table. She opened the little drawer of her vanity, where she kept all the notes Steven had written to her. When they were both in high school, she would find little limericks and haiku's stuffed in the vent of her locker. Once he had graduated and they had gotten back together, she would find them in her book bag, on her vanity, under her pillow.

Over time they had grown fewer and far between. Jackie was lucky if she got a smile these days it felt like. Steven had receded into some part of himself, and she found she couldn't follow him.

Back were the days when he was aloof, distant, Zen. But he was the master, not she, and for all her skill, she still hadn't figured out how to crack his shell. The harder she pushed, the further he shrank away.

In two weeks time was the LOPPS Christmas Party. This was his last chance, Jackie decided, dropping in his latest contribution and sliding the drawer closed.

Either Steven Hyde realized what he had, or Jackie Burkhart was gone to greener horizons.

-x-

"What do you mean she wants me to prove to her that I'm not leaving?" Steven asked Eric. Both boys were perched on the small loveseat in the basement, no longer pretending to watch Gilligan's Island. "Is that what you two were gabbing about like a couple of chicks last night when I got home?"

Eric made a noncommittal noise. "Look, man, I'm just trying to be a good friend. Spread the joy that is your unholy union."

"Man, Forman, mind your own business," Steven muttered, taking a large gulp of his beer. He had fought the Milwaukee traffic home, making it to the Forman's just in time to eat dinner with the family. Was it too much to ask that he have a beer in peace before someone laid into him?

"You're right, Hyde," Eric said, nodding his head.

Blissful silence fell between them.

And then Eric opened his mouth.

"Ok, last question," Eric said, his voice betraying his intentions that this would most definitely not be the last question. "Do you want to marry her? I'm serious, man."

"Fucking Christ, you sound like Jackie," Steven said. "Marriage, marriage, marriage. I would've thought you of all people would be the most hesitant to speak of the blessed event."

"Just, you know, just decide what it is exactly that you want, Hyde," Eric said. "Cause while I hate to admit it, Jackie's been pretty good for you, and you for her. You've gotten her to completely stop quoting Nancy Drew. You deserve a freaking medal for that one."

"Decide what I want, what like its that easy?" Steven said, gripping the aluminum can tightly in his fist. The metal popped and dented around his fingers. "Like you decided you wanted to marry Donna, and then just as easily decided you didn't want to marry Donna?"

"Man, I wish everyone would quit bringing that up," Eric moaned, letting his head fall back on the couch cushion.

"I have no idea what that feels like," Steven said mockingly. He tipped back his beer, swallowing the last of it in two gulps. A burp welled up in his throat and he belched obnoxiously. Standing, Steven tossed the empty beer can into the shower, grabbing a fresh sixer on his way past. He ignored Eric's call after him, slamming his bedroom door closed and flipping on his stereo.

Drinking himself into a stupor sounded pretty damn good, and that's exactly what he planned on doing. He'd deal with this shit in the morning. Besides, always put off today what you can do tomorrow. Right?

You all have left me amazing reviews! I read them once, and then twice, and then a third time for good measure! They made me smile, and I greatly appreciate each and every one.