The Seeker

Jackie clutched the metal cookie sheet resting across her thighs, her fingers tight around the lip of the aluminum. Her knees were pressed against the back of Donna's seat, and the cookies jostled around under the foil covering them, more than likely ruining the frosting job Jackie had accomplished earlier in the day. She found she didn't care. Her knees pressed harder into the back of Donna's seat, hoping to bring the blond as much annoyance as Jackie herself felt.

"Have a holly, jolly Christmas!" Mrs. Forman sang, gunning the Toyota towards Point Place Community Center. Her heavily coifed hair bounced along with her body, and Kitty pursed her mouth, humming loudly along with the instrumentals. "It's the best time of the year."

Best time of the year, my ass, Jackie thought, shifting in her seat. She pulled at the seatbelt crossing her body, freeing her hair. Inky black wetness covered the streets of Point Place. Grey snow lay in piles at the street corners, and Jackie exhaled, her dark eyes watching her breath frost the glass.

"Oh, by golly, have a holly, jolly Christmas, this year!" Mrs. Forman crooned, sharply turning into the Point Place Community Center's parking lot. A smattering of vehicles was already parked near the entrance, and Mrs. Forman joined them, angling the compact car between two large Lincoln's. Kitty pulled the rearview mirror, angling it so she could see her reflection. Her hand reached behind her blindly, fingers snapping. "Jackie, hand me my purse."

Jackie handed Mrs. Forman the small beaded bag, unsnapping her seatbelt. Jackie transferred the cookie sheet to the empty seat at her side, sliding forward in her chair to bring her face between Donna's and Mrs. Forman's.

Kitty dug through her bag, extracting a tube of lipstick. She swiped the deep red color over her mouth, rubbing the pigment into her skin with a smack! of her lips. She fingered her hair, dropping the lipstick back into her bag.

"Now, girls," Kitty said, swiping her powder puff over her t-zone and cheeks. She took a sharp inhale, her eyes rolling. "This is a big deal. The LOPPS are the mafia of Point Place. We're going to show Patty Ryals her place in this world once and for all." She fixed each girl with an intense glare. "Got it?"

"Sure, thing, Mrs. Forman," Donna said, pulling her coat tighter around her body. She popped open the passenger door, briefly sending Jackie a look of apprehension in the back seat.

Donna released the lever on the side of the passenger seat, allowing Jackie to exit the backseat. Jackie shouldered her bag, turning back to grab the tray of cookies. Cold winter air bit through her thick coat, and a light dusting of fresh snow had begun to fall. The asphalt was black and shiny under the lights beaming through the open Community Center's door, and Jackie soldiered on, leaving Donna and Mrs. Forman to follow her.

The LOPPS was all Jackie wanted to be. Rich. Married. Popular. Pam had become a member, and Grandma Burkhart before her had been a member as well. Jackie wouldn't be left behind. She wouldn't be the Burkhart who let her family down.

Donna trailed behind Jackie to the refreshment table, helping her to unwrap the tray of cookies and platters of small sandwiches. Mrs. Forman was a tornado, flitting around the hall like a bird. She set up gifts, and draped tablecloths over the small round café tables hugging the far wall. Kitty discreetly handed Jackie a handle of rum, winking at the bowl of punch placed pointedly out of a child's reach.

"You're not seriously going to spike the punch are you?" Donna whispered as Kitty hurried off, a garden gnome tucked under one arm. "Jackie, did you not hear Mrs. Forman's horror story of 1972? We don't need to scar some innocent little kids!"

"Why not, Donna?" Jackie asked. She unscrewed the cap, upending the bottle over the bright red punch. "I need something to help."

"Help?" Donna asked. She crossed her arms over her chest. The heel of her shoe tapped against the linoleum flooring. Her bright eyes scanned the room, checking for any eyewitnesses. "Help what? Your pleasant attitude?"

Jackie dipped the ladle into the punch, swirling the crystal spoon. Heat pricked her cheeks and at the backs of her eyes. Her stomach clenched and she poured herself a generous amount, turning on Donna. Words tumbled out of her mouth, the anger she had felt at Steven all day finding home with her best friend.

"I don't know what it is that I've done to you exactly, Donna," Jackie started, her posture tight. "I've always been there for you. I've always listened to you. I don't understand why you're treating me like some sort of ridiculous girl."

Donna's mouth twisted, her eyes drifting closed as she puffed up her retort. Jackie didn't let her speak.

"When Eric left you at the altar, it was like something zapped you in that big, ol' Lumberjack- Feminist brain of yours!" Jackie sputtered. She took a step closer to Donna, noting the step Donna took away. "You were never all that girlie, and I got over that. But you didn't used to be this cruel and callous, Donna. I can't get over that."

"Cruel?" Donna stammered, her hand coming up to point at her own chest. "When have I ever been cruel to you? Do you even hear the things that come out of your mouth?"

"Oh, whatever, turn it back on me, like I'm the one who always at fault," Jackie took a deep gulp, coughing over the taste of rum. She swiped at the corner of her eyes, catching a few wayward tears before they had the chance to fall. "Everything's always my fault. Just ask Steven. He'd rather be in a room full of toys, than here, with me, supporting me in this. My future is here, Donna, happening right now. What has he done to support that? It's like he's left me behind, and no one cares. No one cares."

A moment of silence fell over them. Jackie sipped the last of her punch, turning to refill her cup. She heard her voice, the trembling words hanging between her and Donna. The crystal ladle sang when Jackie dropped it back into the bowl. Punch lapped over the edges, staining the tablecloth. Tremors shook over her shoulders. She gripped her glass with both hands in an attempt to hide the shaking of her arms.

"Jackie," Donna sighed, her crossed arms picking at the sides of her sweater, "look I'm sorry. I don't really understand what it is that you're going through, but I am sorry."

Words failed Jackie. Words had very rarely failed her in the past, but Jackie didn't quite understand herself these days. Everything was spiraling out of control; her life was in shambles. She always had a retort, always had a burn waiting. Life was funny nowadays. All she could do was nod her head.

Jackie brought her punch glass to her lips, resting it against her lower lip. She took a small sip, warmth spreading through her. "Whatever, Donna. I don't want to talk about this anymore." She used a technique she had used in the past, telling herself that she was fine. Her mantra sang in her mind: You are beautiful. You are amazing. The other girls wish they were you. The LOPPS are an elite group, they can't think that trivial things like this have any effect on me."

Pivoting on her heel, Jackie stalked off across the room, taking a seat on the far side of the room. The so-far assembled SLOPPS glared at Jackie as she took her seat. Jackie set her cup onto the vinyl tablecloth, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It's the best time of the year."

-x-

Steven tightened the bolo around his neck. He tucked his shirt into his best jeans, the ones without the hole on the knee, and studied his reflection under the basement bathrooms hazy light. His black, pearl-snap shirt showcased the bolo in a way that would make Jackie happy.

"Too much," Steven muttered, pulling off the bolo. He tossed the black and turquoise tie into the dingy sink and leaned on the edges of the porcelain, his head dipping. It was just a stupid party. A party he didn't even care about. But Jackie did. She cared about things that seemed inconsequential to him, things that were stupid, and things that would never matter in five years. Like his health and happiness. All she asked for in return was that he goes to a damn party. Oh, and the ever present request that he tell her he wanted to shackle himself to her for the rest of eternity.

But he'd seen the way the light had left her eyes this afternoon in the kitchen. Like a small puppy that had been kicked one too many times, it would never trust its owner again. Life was too short to keep disappointing everyone. He'd make the exception for Jackie.

"Come on, Hyde!" Eric called from the main basement room. "Red's gonna kill us if we're late."

"I'm comin'!" Steven yelled, exiting the bathroom and stomping back into his room. He undid the top button on his shirt, and snatched his coat off of the bed. Pulling the light's cord, he exited his room, sighing as he shoved his arms into coat. "Alright, let's go."

"You clean up nice," Fez remarked, his arms laden with newly wrapped toys. "You have such nice skin."

Kelso snickered. "You trying to get back on Jackie's good side? It's gonna take more than that."

"Shut up," Steven muttered, gathering up the last of the toys perched on the back of the couch.

"Man, I saw how pissed off she was this afternoon," Kelso said, gathering up an armful of toys. "I pissed her off a lot, but, man, you take the cake."

"And we're off!" Eric led the way up the basement steps, peering around his arm full of toys as he ascended into the bitter night.

Steven dumped his load of gifts into the back of the Vista Cruiser. He pulled his keys from his pocket, twirling them on his finger. "I'll meet you guys there."

"You're not riding with us?" Eric asked, pausing at the driver's side of the Cruiser. "We always ride together."

"No, man, I'll meet you there," Steven repeated, lightly jogging down the drive to the Camino parked at the curb. He paused at the driver's door. Fez, Kelso, and Eric were watching him with confused expressions. "Just get in the damn car, I'll see you there!"

Steven slid behind the wheel, shivering in the still cold air of the cars interior. The Camino roared to life, and Steven pulled away from the curb, his eyes catching the Cruiser as it pulled out behind him.

If things went the way he was hoping they would, than he would need the Camino to bring Jackie home. Or to park somewhere, kissing away the hurt he had caused her.

Point Place was draped in ice. It shone off of the light posts, and the tops of mailboxes in mirrored sheets. Steven drove cautiously through town, his hands at ten and two. It was against his image, driving like a grandma, but the Camino meant more to him than his own grandmother. He'd rather drive like a botard than wreck his baby.

The Cruiser pulled level with Steven in front of the Piggly Wiggly. Honks gathered his attention and he gagged when he turned to look. Kelso's naked butt pressed against the window, cheeks spread wide, rubbing in circles in Steven's direction. Fez was pressed against the back window, hands fanning his ecstatic face, his dark eyes darting between Kelso's naked flesh, and Hyde across from him. Their raucous laughter reached Steven in the Camino as Eric zoomed past him onto Main Street.

They fishtailed, quickly disappearing into the winter night.

Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow caught Steven's eye at the next intersection. He stared at the white building, an odd sense of déjà vu settling in his chest. Was it really only three months ago that Forman and Donna had cancelled their wedding?

So much had changed since then. So much was different. He had a rich dad, and he worked a dream job. The coffee can under his bed was packed with cash, and he had enough film to last him the rest of his life.

All there was left was Jackie.

The light changed to green and Steven drove off, leaving the Catholic Church bathed in taillights. What if he had just done it? Married her, in the booked church, the day that was supposed to be Donna and Eric's? Life could possibly have remained the same.

Slapping his palm against the steering wheel, Steven bit his lip, shifting his weight. Life wouldn't be the same. Not married. It didn't matter how much he loved Jackie, marrying her now, before he was even out of his teens, spelled disaster.

Steven parked near the Toyota in the Community Center's lot. The Cruiser was already parked, it's rear window open. Eric and Fez were gathering toys from the back of the Cruiser, stuffing them into a red velvet bag Red had left behind. Kelso smirked at Steven as he neared the trio, fastening his belt.

"Hey, Hyde, did you get my message?" Kelso asked. A shit-eating grin covered his face. He shook his hips suggestively, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. "I can send it again, if you didn't."

Pulling his coat closer around his middle, Steven cleared his throat. "Yeah, sure. Thanks, Kelso. I needed a good belch before coming here."

Kelso grinned. "You saw London, you saw France-"

"You saw Kelso's glorious Uranus." Fez interrupted.

Kelso and Steven stared incredulously at Fez. The foreigner laughed, his chuckles descending into awkward chortles. He picked at his wrist, tugging at the cuff of his shirt. "What? You can't laugh at jokes anymore?"

"You are one freaky, perverted dude," Steven grumbled. His sour mood was deepening and he shoved away the bag of toys that Eric attempted to pass him. "Carry your own damn toys, Forman."

"Man, what is up with you?" Eric asked. His voice was whiney, high and tight like an upset chick. Passing the bag of toys off to Kelso, Eric approached Steven, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His breath was thick and white before his parted lips. "You were cool this morning. What? Is it because we opened all those toys? We're giving them to their rightful owners." He shrugged his bony shoulders. "Just slightly used, is all."

"No, Forman, that ain't it." Steven glanced at Kelso and Fez, their sides pressed together as they leaned their upper bodies into the back of the Cruiser, reaching for the last toys that had slid up against the back seat. Giggles escaped through the frigid air from the two, and Steven wiped at the corners of his mouth, suddenly annoyed by their childishness. An intense urge to kick them both in the ass washed over him and he gritted his teeth.

Eric nodded, a look of understanding passing over his features. "Jackie."

Steven's eyes snapped back to Eric. "That obvious, huh?"

Eric's eyebrows rose and fell. He crossed his arms, shifting his weight. "Isn't it always the same thing with you two nowadays?"

"Whatever, Forman," Steven bit out. "Like you and Donna are doing any better." He was loath to admit that the comment had grated on him the wrong way. Everyone needed to keep their observations to themselves. Especially when he hadn't asked for them.

Eric's hand pressed to his heart. "I know that comes from a place of deep, deep sorrow. I forgive your lashing out."

The Point Place Community Center had been transformed. The stage was a pictorial Christmas village. Streamers and twinkle lights hung artistically in swags and drapes across the bland, white cinder block tiled walls. Tables lined one wall, piled high with punch and cookies, hoagies and fruit platters.

Steven tugged at the waist of his jeans, feeling awkward. He hated these kinds of shows. Rich people all gathered together in one room. It was enough to make him sick. Matter of fact, he felt like he could puke right now, staring at it all."

"Hyde?" Donna met him at the doors, pausing at his side. "What are you doing here? Jackie said you weren't coming."

"Yeah, well, here I am." Steven responded. His gaze swept the room. He sighed. Bitterness was an ugly emotion, and it was rearing it head now, clutching at his stomach and his heart. "Where is Jackie?"

Donna chuckled. Her finger pointed across the room to a table on the far wall. "She's been relegated to the SLOPPS table."

"SLOPPS?" Steven asked. "What the hell are the SLOPPS?"

"The Single Ladies of Point Place," Donna said, chuckling still. "Single Ladies. You should have seen her face when Patty Ryals told her to sit there."

"Great," Steven muttered. He made his way across the hall, bypassing Mrs. Forman with a tight-lipped grin.

Jackie saw him when he entered the hall. Her face was pulled into a dejected pout, and it didn't change as he neared her. She picked at the vinyl table covering, her lips working over her teeth. Steven felt his jaw click. His teeth ground together, his masseter muscles flexing. This was going to be a fun-filled evening.

Jackie leaned back in her seat. Her eyes were glassy, her lips slightly redder than her normal shade of lipstick. "Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up."

Steven took the open seat next to her, briefly noting that every other girl seated at the table were shooting daggers at them. "You gonna make this harder than it has to be, Jackie?"

Swirling her empty punch glass on the table, Jackie shrugged her shoulders. She scratched at the side of her nose, shaking her hair over her shoulders. "Probably."

"Look, Jackie, I'm sorry," Steven whispered, leaning close. He spread his fingers across her thigh. Her wool skirt itched at his palm. "I don't understand why you're so upset with me. I'm here, aren't I?"

Jackie's eyes landed on him. "Because, Steven you promised. You promised weeks ago you'd be here. And then you acted like, like-"

"Like I didn't want to be here?" Steven supplied.

Eyes rolling, Jackie uncrossed her legs, dislodging Steven's hand. "That's not the point, Steven."

Steven laced his fingers together, his elbows on his knees. The Community Center was slowly filling with the elite of Point Place. Patty Ryals glided about the room, smiling demurely at each guest. Kitty, in return, was wringing her hands. Probably about the toys, Steven thought, glancing at the drapes drawn across the stage.

"You promised," Jackie repeated.

"When?" Steven asked.

"You promised two weeks ago. You promised before Thanksgiving," Jackie reached for her empty glass, wrapping her fingers around it.

Steven's eyebrows furrowed. "Is that why you bought me a new shirt?"

Jackie just looked at him, silent. She licked her upper lip, the tip of her tongue briefly trapped between her teeth.

"You could have said something, Jackie."

"You could have remembered."

"This is so stupid, you're getting mad at me for something I said when I was drunk."

"Than maybe you shouldn't drink so much."

"You want me to start going to church too? Feed the poor?"

"Like some quality time with Jesus would hurt you."

"You should like Mrs. Forman."

Jackie stood suddenly, her chair shooting back. "I'm getting more punch."

Steven watched her go, her hips shash-shaying away.

"How terrible," a voice purred to his right. Steven turned towards the SLOPP. She leaned her elbow onto the table, her breasts resting next to her punch. "She seems really upset. And on Christmas."

Steven didn't say anything.

"You know," SLOPP continued, the legs of her chair scraping against the linoleum, "I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to."

"Whatever," Steven muttered, standing. He followed Jackie across the room.

Donna was standing at the corner of the refreshment table. Her gaze was set on her father, dressed up as Santa. She pursed her mouth, holding her cup against her chest.

"Jackie, I don't want to fight tonight," Steven said as he drew level with her. She ladled punch into her glass, taking a long sip. Topping off her glass again, she rounded on Steven.

"You should get some punch," Jackie's cheeks were ruddy and pink. "It's special just for you. It'll help you forget any other promise you may make to me in the future."

-x-

"How long you gonna punish Hyde this time?"

Jackie turned, looking to Donna, and then to Steven mere feet away. It took Jackie a moment to focus on him; she covered her left eye with her fingers, and Steven sprang into plain view, his passive face staring at her, a glass of punch clutched in his fingers. A chasm had opened between them, one that Jackie knew she had put there. Warmth spread through her limbs and across her chest. Her hand dropped away from her face. She had drunk too much, but didn't want to stop. Drinking was fueling her anger. And right now, anger was the only thing that made sense to her. It coursed through her; it consumed her. It was all she could think about.

Steven hadn't talked to her since he had arrived.

Donna wasn't interested in why she was upset, not really.

The LOPPS had demoted her to the SLOPPS table. It had taken her four more punch's to get over that horror, another two to forget that Susie Vincent had once slept with Michael, and one more to remember that she didn't care who Michael had slept with.

It would have been easy to forgive Steven. Easy to let it go. He had shown up, like she'd wanted, and he'd done it for her. Isn't that what she had wanted all along?

Too little, too late.

Across the room, Susie Vincent stood from the SLOPPS table, making her way over to the refreshment table. Susie poured a glass of punch (children's punch), pausing by Steven's side to sip at the fruit blend. Neither of them made any acknowledgement to one another. Jackie wondered if Steven had also slept with Susie Vincent.

Anger renewed.

What she had wanted was for him to comply right away. To not have acted like a child, stuck in his room of toys, and act like a man. A man worth spending the rest of her life with. It had cut her like a knife, that he had chosen a room full of toys over her happiness. As if spending one evening away from the musty basement would hurt him. Another adult fueled punch. Another punch would help her forget.

Jackie drained her glass, punch staining the corners of her mouth. "He'll survive."

"Jackie, I think you're being a bit dramatic about this."

"What's new?" Jackie slurred.

Donna chewed on her cheek. She was giving Jackie a pitying look, her eyes anxious. "You wanna get some air? I need some air."

"Sure, whatever." Jackie set her cup down, teetering on her feet. She wandered off, leaving Donna by the refreshment table. Her feet felt heavy, and she leaned forward, walking on her toes. Giggling, she extended her hands, reaching towards the exit doors. To think, of all the times she had made fun of girls for walking like baby calves in heels. Her feet glided across the linoleum, her toes pressing against the front of her heels. This was way better than trying to balance on the heels of her feet.

It hit her suddenly, how much she had drunk. The floor tilted, rising up sharply under her, and she collapsed against the main doors leading into the Community Hall. Silence deafened her. Soft laughter escaped her. Heads turned as she stumbled out into the entrance hall, and she righted herself quickly. She acted as if the door had stuck, playing it off in what her inebriated state found authentic. An Oscar-worthy performance.

"Jackie!" Donna grabbed her arm. Her blond hair was bright under the fluorescent lighting. Yellow, with ends brittle and full of split-ends. "Are you alright? Come on. No, Hyde, I got her. Let go, I got her."

Jackie pushed her hair out of her eyes. Steven was by her side, his mouth tight as he hand gripped her bicep. "Steven?"

"Come on, Jackie," Donna said, tugging on her other arm. "I got her, Hyde, don't worry. We're just going to go out for some air. Let go."

Jackie felt tears, hot and thick, threatening to spill over her lashes. She yielded like a child as Donna presented her coat, coaxing the garment over her body. Steven trailed behind them, stopping as they exited the building. He started to speak, reaching towards Jackie.

"Don't worry, we're just going to be out here."

Donna supported her weight, helping her down the steps into the parking lot. Benches were set against the far wall, and Donna led Jackie towards them.

"I'm sorry, Donna." Tears had begun to fall. Her words jumbled in her mouth, and she swiped angrily at her cheeks. The cold stung, freezing her tears to her skin. "I'm so sorry."

"Ok, now I know for sure you're wasted," Donna remarked. She sat awkwardly beside Jackie on the bench, pulling her coat tight about her. "You never apologize. Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever even heard the words 'I'm sorry' from you before."

Jackie hiccupped, swaying forward over her knees. "Donna, I miss Steven."

"He's just inside. Do you want me to go get him?"

"No!" Jackie cried. Tears fell steadily. She hiccupped, wiping her hand over her cheeks. "I just- Donna, I miss him. I miss Steven so much."

Donna's knees clamped together, and she wrapped her arms around her middle. She emanated warmth, and Jackie scooted closer to her, pressing herself against Donna's side. Jackie let her head fall back, resting against the rough bricked wall. She sobbed softly, tears dripping off her chin to soak the collar of her coat. The lights spaced throughout the parking lot were slanted in her vision, blurry as snow fell and tears clouded her eyes.

"What do you miss, Jackie?" Donna asked softly. She wrapped her fingers around Jackie's arm, the weight a balm. Jackie continued to cry, hiccupping as the tears fell. Donna squeezed her forearm lightly. "Talk to me, Jackie. You're freaking me out when you don't talk."

Jackie swallowed thickly over a hiccup. "I miss him, Donna."

Donna shifted her weight. "Alright. What do you miss?"

"I miss…" Jackie trailed. She swallowed. "I miss the beginning of our relationship. I miss the old Steven."

Honesty. There it was. That was the root of her anger. What she missed was Steven, in the beginning. Before she truly knew Steven, when she could imagine the best of him. In the beginning when the things she discovered about Steven were the planes of his body, and the way he liked to be kissed. How he liked to be stroked and touched. Before she knew that he was flakey, and prone to anger. When he would do anything to make her happy. Not anything to make it up to her.

"Why?" Donna whispered.

Jackie licked her lips, a groan escaping her mouth. Everything was spinning around her. "It was easier. It was easier then."

"Why?"

"Because, Donna," Jackie said, tossing her hand up. Petulant. She sounded petulant. Pam hated when she sounded petulant. Steven hated when she sounded petulant. Jackie felt bile pushing at the back of her throat and swallowed it down.

"Talk to me, Jackie." Donna rubbed her arm. "Use your words."

Jackie closed her eyes, squeezing them shut. She breathed deeply through her nose, letting it out slowly through her mouth.

"I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of?"

"I'm afraid I'll be like my mother. I'm afraid that Steven won't love me. Not really."

"He loves you now. Isn't that enough?"

"No! Well- I don't know."

Donna sighed. "When Eric left me..." Her voice caught and she cleared her throat before speaking again. "When Eric left me at the altar, I thought I would die. I missed all the things we were when we first started dating too."

Jackie rubbed tears off of her cheeks.

"I think I understand, Jackie, what you mean. I missed Eric too. The goofy, geek who made me feel like the most beautiful woman on the planet."

The tears fell of their own accord. Donna's fingers were tight over Jackie's arm, and Jackie reached out, covering them with her own. Jackie let her head fall to Donna's shoulder.

"But now, now that's there's not this pressure on us… Jackie, it's just like how it was. I didn't think we could go back, but we managed it. Somehow."

"It was so much easier." A hiccup escaped, and Jackie swallowed down a mouthful of bile, her face pulled into a grimace. "It was so much easier to love him when all I wanted was someone to get back at Michael with."

"You don't mean that, Jackie."

Jackie raised her head, breathing deeply over the nausea that rose with sudden movement.

"No, I don't mean it, Donna," Jackie felt her breath escape her in a rush. Her head felt like it weighed twenty pounds, pivoting on her neck. "There was always something about Steven. He was always there for me. When Michael cheated. When my parents had a fight. He was the one I always felt I could talk to. He was the one who cared."

"I always wondered why you ran to him when something went wrong. It seemed so natural. Don't get me wrong," Donna re-crossed her legs, "I still think it's creepy, and unnatural. But you two just fit. That's the only way I can describe it."

"Do you think we'll get married, Donna?"

A car passed on the road before them; it's headlights catching each falling flake of snow. Its tires whooshed on the wet pavement and they watched in silence till the car disappeared out of sight. Jackie's breathing was loud in her chest, her blood pounding in her ears.

"Do you think Eric and I will get married?"

Their breath was white crystal clouds before their faces.

Jackie chewed her lips. "Honestly?"

Donna swallowed hard. "Yeah. Honestly."

"Jackie?"

Donna and Jackie jumped, startled by their newcomer. Steven shivered before them, his hands deep in his coat pockets.

"Jackie, come on," Steven held out his hand, "I'll take you home."

"But the party…"

Steven glanced back at the entrance to the Community Center. He turned back to Jackie and Donna, stepping up onto the curb. "The party's over, Jackie."

Donna coughed, surreptitiously wiping at her cheeks. "I should go find Eric."

"He said he was going to the little boys room," Steven said, watching Donna as she walked away. Steven took a step closer. He pointed to Donna's vacant seat. " Can I sit?"

Jackie nodded.

Steven cleared his throat, sitting down hard beside her. He placed his hand on his knee, palm up, an invitation.

Staring down, Jackie contemplated her options. She could take his hand, give him the illusion that everything was all right. Or she could sit here, the same, as she had been angry and full of contempt.

Her body decided for her.

Vomit projectile out of her mouth, shooting across the curb to puddle in the parking lot. Jackie coughed hard, spitting onto the pavement.

"Oh, fuck!" Steven shouted, surprised. "Shit, Jackie, are you alright?"

Heavy, wrecking heaves shook her frame. She felt each rib as they contacted, and she threw up again. Her stomach somersaulted, shooting up her esophagus like a acrobat. New tears fell, and she cried from embarrassment as much as from her inebriation.

"Shh," Steven whispered, pulling back her hair and holding it at the nape of her neck. His voice was deep, and calm. "Come on, Pumpkin, come with me."

"I don't think I can-" Jackie gagged. Red bile dribbled from her lips. "I don't think I can move, Steven."

"Here, hold on," Steven grabbed her arm, wrapping it about his neck. He lifted her gently, leading her further away from the entrance. "Hold on to me, babe."

"Where are we going?" Jackie looked behind them, squinting as people began to spill out of the Community Center. Patty Ryals white dress reflected the lights back to them.

"If the LOPPS see you that's it," Steven said as they turned the corner of the building. "And then I'll never hear the end of it."

Jackie shoved away. She stumbled, catching herself before she fell.

"What?" Steven asked.

"I hate it when you do that!" Jackie's voice was loud, louder than normal. It grated on her ears.

"What?" Steven repeated.

"You're so mean!" Jackie swayed, overstepping her balance. "You think it's funny? You think it's funny to make me out to be some- some kind of…"

Jackie turned away, leaning against the wall. She hacked, her ribs aching as she heaved up spiked punch. Acid burned her gums and tongue.

Spitting onto the wall, Jackie rounded on Steven. Her face felt puffy and tight. "You think it's funny, to make fun of me?"

Steven blinked several times. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You're always making fun of me." Jackie pondered if that were true. She tried to remember before, anything, she tried to remember what it was truly like. He did make fun of her. Mouth pursing, she pushed a hand through her hair.

Right?

Hand pressing to her temple, she swayed on her feet, woozy.

Steven half-laughed. "When do I make fun of you?"

Jackie pointed at him, indignation rising up in her heart. "You're doing it right now!"

"Jackie, you're drunk." Steven's voice was irritated. He stepped away, into the darkness for a moment, and then came back, suddenly, looming larger than she'd remembered. Her eyes widened comically as she tried to focus on him. He rubbed the corners of his mouth. His eyes were soft in the light. "Jackie. Let's go. You're drunk."

"You're always drunk!" Jackie leaned against the brick wall, careful to avoid her puke. "Why shouldn't I be?"

Steven's hands rose, cupping her cheeks. His thumbs caressed her, smoothing away her tears. With the corner of his shirt he wiped at her mouth. "Cause I'm meant to be a drunk, burnout, loser. You aren't."

"I'm a SLOPP, Steven." Jackie swayed, steadied by Steven's hold.

Eyebrows high on his forehead, Steven smirked down at her. "Sloppy maybe, but not a SLOPP."

Jackie blinked, her hands rising to cover Steven's. "I want to go home. Take me home."

Time passed in increments. The Camino's leather cab. Streetlights, pulsing like a heartbeat as Steven drove them towards home. Snow fell, the wiper blades slapping across the windshield. Ice covered the stairs leading to the basement, and Jackie slipped, grabbing at the railing, pulling Steven down with her. Her palm stung, and she stared at the rash blooming on her soft flesh, cursing the rough retaining wall for marring her perfection.

Steven fumbled with the basement door, leading her through the dark room to his closet bedroom.

"Are you mad at me?" Jackie groaned as Steven led her to his cot, helping her to lie down. Her arms and legs felt like dumbbells had been attached to her wrists and ankles.

Propping one of her feet on his thigh, Steven began to undo the buckle on her shoe. His cobalt eyes looked up, then back to his task. Gripping her ankle, he slid the shoe off her foot, dropping it to the side.

"I thought you were the one who was mad at me."

Jackie sighed, her head falling to the side as Steven worked on her other shoe. "I just wanted you to remember."

"That I had promised to show up?" Steven asked, dropping her second shoe by the first. "I did show up."

"I wanted you to want to show up."

"Jackie, you know parties like that aren't really my thing."

"We're almost grown up, Steven."

"Yeah, but not yet."

"I just need to know you're serious."

Steven mumbled under his breath, turning towards the chest of drawers on the far wall. He slid open the top drawer, pulling out a black t-shirt.

Jackie licked her lips. "I need to know you're serious about us, Steven."

"Come on, sit up." Steven grabbed her wrists, bringing her up to a sitting position. He undid the clasp on her necklace, setting it on the bedside table. He made short work of undressing her. Jackie pouted, her head aching as Steven fed her arms through his t-shirt, pulling it down over her breasts.

"Steven."

"Jackie."

"Are you?"

Steven began to fold her shirt and skirt, setting them on top of the chest of drawers. "Not tonight, Jackie."

"Just answer me," Jackie fell back onto the bed, her hair fanning over his pillow. "Just answer me and I'll go to sleep and you won't have to listen to me any more tonight."

She passed out, a deep, drunken slumber, as he undid his belt. Dreams evaded her. Her body felt heavy on the mattress and when she jolted awake some hours later, she felt as though she had been paralyzed. The blankets over her body were hot, and she kicked them off, relishing in the cool air that flowed over her glistening skin.

Water. Jackie rubbed at her eyes, slowly propping herself up onto her elbow. Ambient light filtered in under the closed bedroom door. A glass of water sat on the bedside table, and Jackie reached for it, drinking like she had spent days trapped in the Sahara.

"Steven?" Jackie called softly.

Silence answered her.

Jackie turned Steven's clock radio towards her, squinting at the bright red numbers. She'd been asleep for three hours.

Swinging her legs over the side of the cot, Jackie stood slowly, shuffling her way out of the room. The TV lit up the large room, throwing long shadows across the floor. The light was like a beacon and Jackie held up her hand, shielding her eyes.

"Steven?"

Popping up from his spot on the couch, Steven rubbed at his eyes. "You're awake? Did you get sick?"

"No," Jackie mumbled, walking around the couch. She tugged at the end of the t-shirt, her bare legs erupting in gooseflesh from the chilly air. "I'm cold, Puddin'."

Steven laid back on the couch, holding up the crochet blanket covering his chest and legs, a silent invitation. Jackie curled into him, shivering as their skin made contact.

Blustering heat, like a furnace, washed over her as she settled into his body. He was like a fire, heartening and warm. Steven wrapped his arms about her, covering them both with the blanket. He pressed a kiss to her hair, settling into the worn cushions.

His fingers worked through her hair, tugging at the silky strands, and working free a few tangles. They watched the TV in silence, the light bright against their retinas. When Jackie jolted awake again, the TV was playing static. Humming buzzed in her ears, and Jackie stood, flipping the switch off. Steven scratched at his chest, his body shadowy and silhouetted in the sudden darkness. He stretched, limbs long on the short couch, and groaned as he stood. Wordlessly, they moved back to Steven's cot, curling together onto the thin mattress, and falling deeply asleep.

-x-

Steven ripped the head off of the stuffed teddy bear Jackie had given him last Valentine's Day. A yell escaped him, and he threw the offending object as hard as he could across the room. The plush toy bounced off the concrete, settling onto the floor, its stitched mouth grinning up at him.

"Fucking, stupid, piece of shit!" Steven kicked at the bear's head, sending it flying under the green armchair. Stuffing tumbled across the rug.

Kelso and Fez watched, unsure, from the doorway. Their eyes were round, following each destruction with a growing sense of unease.

Steven rounded on his records. He jumped onto the bed, settling on his knees. With shaking fingers he began to filter through the collection.

"Fucking, stupid," Steven muttered. His skin felt itchy. His blood pounded through his veins. "Stupid, stupid, idiot. I don't know why I trusted she'd be smart about this. Wait for a fucking minute before deciding that was it."

ABBA was next. He yanked the cardboard sleeves off the shelf, throwing them behind him onto the floor. "Stupid fucking disco."

"Uh oh," Fez mumbled from the doorway.

"You know!" Steven spun on his knees, facing his friends. Manic anger squeezed his gut. "You know what really gets me?"

Kelso glanced at Fez. "What?"

Steven yanked the last album, the Bee Gee's, from his collection, tossing it onto the floor with the others. "Some crazy, spoiled, whack job is gonna pull this shit. What? Does she think she can bribe me to do as she wishes?"

Kelso and Fez stepped back as Steven gestured at them, his arms wide.

"What, like I gotta decide my entire fucking life right now?" Steven bent at the waist, gathering the records. He held them in both hands, his rage bending the vinyl. Saturday Night Fever split in two with a pop. "Like I'm gonna let some ninety pound cyst leech the life out of me?"

"Maybe you should not break those," Fez pointed to the records in Steven's hands, "you know, in case you and Jackie get back together."

"Yeah, man, trust me." Kelso piped up. "I know from experience that breaking the stuff that Jackie gets you while you're on a break only leads to more fighting when she eventually comes back around."

"Quit!" Steven threw ABBA's Greatest Hits. "Talking!" Kelso ducked. "About!" The vinyl shattered against the cement wall. "Jackie like she's still with you!"

"Well, she's not with you any more." Kelso pointed out softly.

Steven panted. "I could punch you in the face right now, Kelso, and not feel a damn thing about it."

"Oh, not the face, that's his money." Fez's fingers wound together.

Grabbing an empty box, Steven opened the bottom drawer of his dresser, throwing Jackie's possessions into it pell-mell. He wadded up her cheer uniform, hating the mental picture that immediately appeared. Her, bent over his bed, hands on her ankles as she teased him tantalizingly slow with her cheer routine. White dots sprang into his vision.

"All I said was 'I don't know'! I don't know! What? Like that's a crime now?" Steven pushed the box away from him. "She gonna report me to the Japanese and force me into a repeat of the Bataan Death March?"

"That's taking it slightly far," Fez said softly.

"Get her shit out of here," Steven said. He threw the decapitated teddy bear into the box, topping them off with the records.

Fez picked up the box. "What do you want us to do with it?"

"Burn it!" Steven yelled, his voice catching. "Destroy it, I don't give a shit!"

Fez held the box uncertainly. He shared a meaningful look with Kelso, exiting the room with box in tow. Fez set the box on top of the freezer, folding the flaps together. The basement was full of ample hiding places. But Hyde knew them better than anyone. Fez's dark eyes scanned the crowded room, considering the space under the stairs, and the shower itself. Both were places Steven would find the box, being places he typically hid his stash.

Fez carried the box across the basement, stopping at the small closet behind the shower. He pushed aside boxes of ornaments, and old sweaters, setting the box of Jackie's things in the back corner. Fez replaced the other boxes, wiping the dust off of his hands onto his pants.

"You'll thank me one day, Hyde" Fez said softly to himself, standing. He hoped One Day would come here soon.

.

.

.

.

.

Don't hate me. I wanted to follow loosely with the show's outline. Cause there is a reason why they break up; Hyde truly isn't all that great to her, (terrible writing by the series writers, in my opinion.) and honestly, I don't blame her for wanting the best for herself. That's one of the reasons Jackie is my favorite characters. Never fear! I'll do justice by them.