A/N: Hey, remember this story?! So incredibly sorry it took me so long to update. It was one of those cases where I just had to step away for awhile... but I've really been in the writing mood lately, so hopefully, there's more to come. Thanks so much to those of you who have stuck with me through this long hiatus, I really, really appreciate it, and I hope this chapter won't disappoint. Enjoy!

"Just because everything is different doesn't mean anything has changed."

"Fezzie!" Jackie giggled, squirming away from her foreign boyfriend, who was currently attempting (with some success) to tickle her. "Quit it! Mrs. Forman said I could pick the music."

"Yes, my pet, but you see, not everyone wants to listen to ABBA all night. We've got to mix things up a bit. Throw on some Peter Frampton." He wiggled the record in front of her face alluringly, and when she simply frowned at him, he leaned in to peck a kiss on her nose.

"Yeah, that's not really any better, Fez," Eric patted his friend on the back, overhearing their conversation as he passed by on his way to refill the ketchup container.

Jackie leaned in and kissed Fez's chest, mumbling something about "her disco king", when a slightly tipsy Kitty Forman made an announcement.

"The hotdogs are done, everyone!" She waved her guests over towards the grill and her less- than- thrilled husband, who sported a borrowed "Why limit 'happy' to an hour?" apron. "Cooooommmmeee and get 'em! Ahahaha!"

"I got dibs on a not burned one!" Kelso bellowed, immediately sidestepping his wife and daughter to secure his place in the forming line. As the rest of the party slowly followed in suit, Eric sighed and ambled to the back of the staggering cafeteria-esque line, twirling his Styrofoam plate impatiently. Forty minutes in, and he was already thoroughly unimpressed with his going-away barbeque.

He surveyed the decorations his mother had excitedly prepared this morning; there were a few lawn chairs here, a picnic table there, and lots and lots of twinkle lights. He smiled. He really did love his mom. She was such a nice lady. He decided that he wouldn't be a stranger anymore, if only for the sake of his mother. A few visits a year wouldn't kill him. It was the least he could do in return for all the love and forgiveness she'd shown him over the years. Although, the fact that Donna and Natalia lived right next door was a bit of a complication.

Donna. He sighed just thinking about her. What in the world was he gonna do about Donna? Granted, she didn't seem like she wanted anything to do with him, but he just didn't feel right about leaving things so… awkward between them. He tried to search for her among the crowd in his backyard. Surely his mother had invited she and Natalia…

Suddenly the shine of her retinted red hair caught his eye; the two of them had claimed a card table over near the fence. Natalia was squirming as her mother attempted to apply sunscreen to her cheeks. Donna was pretending to be so consumed by the aforementioned task that she didn't notice Eric standing just a few feet away from them. She looked very pretty today, he decided. Red was really her color. He wondered what she'd say if he told her that.

Their conversation yesterday had been short and terse; he hated that. It was just another silent reminder that the world as he'd once known it had completely ceased to exist.

"Hey."

He'd moseyed over casually, and she looked up and smiled at him wearily. He wasn't sure what to say to break the ice, but luckily his mind was made up for him when a tall, dark haired man came swooping over the fence that separated the two yards. "Hey, babe," he slimed, before ducking his head to press a hard peck to Donna's lips.

Eric halted in his tracks, and focused hard on making sure his mouth didn't hang open in disbelief as the man straightened up and gave him a smirk.

"Casey Kelso?"

"Surprised, Foreplay?" Casey paused to ruffle Natalia's hair briefly before crossing his arms smugly. Donna had apparently admitted defeat against her daughter's defiance, and was concentrating all her effort on softly squeezing shut the sunscreen bottle.

"I-um. Yeah," Eric breathed, taking in the scene before him. His eyes darted from the emblazed breast pocket of Casey's vest, proudly declaring 'Kelso Konstruction', to the unamused expression on Natalia's face. "Um. Haven't seen you in awhile."

"Yeah," Casey leered, clearly enjoying Eric's discomfort, "I heard you were back. Nice little movie you got there, pal. Really enjoyed one character in particular. 'Kenny Carmichael', I think was his name. Big, bad bully guy. Ring a bell?"

"Oh, ah, listen Casey," Eric murmured apologetically, resisting the urge to ring his hands and take several giant steps backwards, "I didn't-"

Casey quickly put up his hands in protest. "Naw, hey, man, I was just playing." His easygoing grin was back. "You don't need to explain to me why you felt the need to take a big ole' crap all over your hometown, you know? That's personal, man." He shook his head in amusement, then nudged Donna playfully. "But, ah, I heard that there's a barbeque somewhere around here that just can't go on without buns." He grinned, and produced two neatly-tied bags of bakery fresh hot dog buns from behind his back. He playfully tapped Natalia on the back of the head with one of the bags. "C'mon, Nat. I'll get ya a dog."

"Mooom," Natalia groaned in an underhanded whisper as Casey walked away, "I hate being called 'Nat'."

Donna just frowned sympathetically and brushed a stray hair off of her daughter's forehead. "I know, baby. Just keep reminding him." She patted her daughter on the head and gestured for her to get up. "Why don't you follow Casey, hm? I'll be right over."

Donna cleared her throat as Natalia trudged away. "Um, sorry about that." She glanced up at Eric apologetically, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Casey Kelso?" He teased her gently, easing himself into the chair across from her nonchalantly.

She crossed her arms, unamused. "What?"

"N-nothing," Eric cleared his throat and waved off her accusation. "I just... um.. didn't think he was really your type."

"Yeah, well, he's changed." Her voice had a cold, matter-of-fact edge to it that sent a shiver through Eric's spine. "He owns his own construction company now. Biggest in the greater-Kenosha area," she recited, raising her eyebrow for effect. "And he and I have always had a connection." Her voice dropped slightly in pitch, and she looked uneasy for a moment, "He's a nice guy now, Eric. You should give him a chance."

He took a beat to process her words. Despite the strong statements she was making, her expression was blank. "Yeah, no, I, um… I'll do that," Eric nodded, trying to determine if he should believe her. Survey says: no.

After an awkward beat of silence, Donna made a move to stand up. "Well, look, it was really um, great, to see you again... so. Have a good trip home, yeah?"

"Donna, wait." He blew out a sigh of discontent and grabbed her arm, and they both jumped at the spark of contact. Eric awkwardly yanked his hand back in embarrassment, but she stopped and lowered herself back into her seat slowly. "Look, can we, you know, talk? I just… I don't know, I feel like things were kind of weird between us yesterday…"

She quirked an eyebrow at him in disbelief. "Honestly? What did you expect?"

He exhaled softly, defeated. "I know, okay? But, I just.. how are you?"

Donna blew out a breath. She glanced over Eric's shoulder; Natalia was happily munching on some chips, sitting on a glowing Jackie's lap. Casey was nowhere in sight. She bit the inside of her lip and glanced back at him. His eyes were sincere; begging her to try with him. "I'm fine," she told him curtly. "I, uh, I write for the Gazette. I have my own column now. It's kind of cool." He flashed her a smile, and she returned it, tentatively. "And, you know, I just stay busy carting Natalia around everywhere. Play dates, swim class, piano lessons. We actually have to leave in a little bit; she has ballet at 5."

Eric smirked. "Donna Pinciotti's daughter does ballet?"

"She plays t-ball, too," Donna furrowed her eyebrows defensively.

"I was just kidding," he smiled at her, and her shoulders started to slowly relax.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Donna leaned back in her chair, refusing to meet his eyes but reluctantly returning the inquisition, "So, I guess you're staying pretty busy with your movie and everything, huh?"

"Yeah." Eric gave a half-smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I think it's like, third in the box-office right now or something…"

"Second," she corrected him softly. His eyes snapped up to meet hers, but she'd apparently become enthralled with moving around some dirt with her toe.

Eric cleared his throat, his face taking on a much more serious expression. "I actually wanted to talk to you about that, Donna. The whole book thing was just so spontaneous. I mean, I never thought anyone would want to read it… I was so surprised when they told me they wanted to publish it. But I'm," he swallowed hard, "Donna, I'm really sorry. About… everything."

"Oh, you're sorry, hm?" She looked up at him suddenly, her eyebrows turned down menacingly but her tone eerily calm. "'Cause I've gotta say; I loved it."

"Donna-"

"No, no. Really. In fact, I even memorized the third paragraph on page 216: 'Dawn's head was full of plans and her heart was full of dreams, but underneath her confident exterior she was just a scared little girl; the kind of gal who was so afraid to fly that she never did land.' "

Eric's mouth had fallen open. "No. Donna, no. That wasn't -"

"Sounds like you nailed me to a tee." He was horrified to see that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. One dribbled out the corner of her eye as she stood up, but she refused to acknowledge it by brushing it away.

Eric stood up so fast he knocked over his lawn chair. "Donna, please," he pleaded with her softly, grabbing her arm as she back away from him. "Please let me explain."

But Donna was shaking her head slowly, and she gently twisted out of his grasp. "No. No, I have to leave now." She sniffed as she tucked her purse under her arm and began to move back towards the rest of the barbeque guests, gathered around the driveway. "I'm sorry Eric, but this is just… this is just too weird."

"What is?" He begged her, his forehead creased in anguish.

"Standing here talking to you like this is normal. Like nothing happened." She turned and walked away. "I'm sorry, Eric," she called over her shoulder, abruptly. "Have a safe trip."

He yanked at his hair in frustration and sunk down onto a nearby chair. The familiar sound of a fist pounding against a fiberglass table was all that needed to be said.

"Eric."

He whipped around as the petite, raven haired girl appeared over the side of the fridge door. "Jesus, Jackie," he blew a weak chuckle out his nose as he readjusted his grip on the beer can he'd almost dropped in surprise. "I, um, I didn't hear you come in."

"Oh. Sorry. Your mom… she sent me in here to grab some extra napkins." She paused to roll her eyes. "Michael spilt soda all over himself." She flashed him a brief smile and moved towards the paper towel dispenser.

Eric took a beat, and then sent a 'what the hell?' look towards the ceiling. "Jackie, I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but you just missed a primo chance to make fun of me." When she just lifted a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him in response, he continued, with noticeably more flamboyant hand gestures, "You know… the whole 'I'm a jumpy girl and you're a bitchy… bitch' routine?" Still no response. "C'mon, that was like, our thing!"

"I'm sorry," Jackie retaliated coolly, ripping off a sequence of about ten paper towels, "I didn't realize we were still in high school."

"There," Eric grinned proudly, strolling across the kitchen to stand beside her, "I felt the resentment that time."

She finally cracked a smile. "Eric, you are a jumpy girl," she mumbled, reaching over to shove his shoulder none-too-gently before returning her attention to accordion- folding the towels she needed to deliver. "Although you're really not all that skinny anymore," she noted, glancing up at him. "What'd you do? Bench press that ginormous case you kept all your dorky dolls in?"

"I grew up," he answered, because it was the truth. She nodded, accepting his answer. He knew she understood; could tell just by looking at her eyes. They were… grayer.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "And you. I noticed that you've, um… you're a bit… you know, nicer," he finished with a cringe.

Jackie smiled; the first genuine one he'd seen from her today. "Aw, Eric," she teased him, straightening to her full height, "Are you trying to compliment me?"

He shrugged noncommittally, and she actually giggled before gathering the stack of towels into her arms. "You got a girlfriend, Eric?"

He smirked, and crossed his arms casually. "Oh, of course. You know me, always the player." She rolled her eyes when they made eye contact, and he shook his head once in amusement, easily acknowledging his fib. "You and Fez, though, huh?"

"Yeah," Jackie nodded, smiling. "We're really happy."

"Well that's great." Eric smiled too, because it was nice that at least someone around here was happy. Today was really kind of nice, he decided. His friends had done alright for themselves. Kelso was the family man, Fez and Jackie had found each other… and he was glad, if nothing else, that Donna was still writing. Suddenly he frowned, realizing that one person was conspicuously absent from the festivities. "Hey, how's Hyde doin'?"

Out of nowhere, Jackie bucked her knee against the cabinet roughly. Groaning, she leaned down to massage it, blinking up at him like a deer in the headlights. "Steven?" He nodded, confused. "Steven… Steven had to work tonight. At the mall. The mall is where he works. Tonight." She brought her hand up to her forehead, flustered, "I-I mean… other nights, too. Most nights, actually. He works a lot." She dropped her arms to her side in a huff, and seemed to decide to start over completely, "I don't see Steven much anymore," she retracted, nodding her head for emphasis. "I mean, I have Fez… why would I need Steven?"

Eric just stared at her. "I- okay," he finally decided on, holding his hands out in front of him as if that could stop her outbursts. "I was just, um, curious."

"Of course," Jackie nodded. "I was just, you know, letting you know. That Steven works at the mall. And that I don't need him. Er," she knitted her hands together across her forehead. Was that a trickle of sweat at her hairline? Eric got the sense that he was in way over his head. "That was a stupid thing to say. Of course I don't need him. But you know that." There was an awkward silence, where Eric became enthralled with his shoes and Jackie cringed. "So how's New York?" She tried a subject change.

"It's… fine," he glanced at her, his brow furrowed. Where had the calm, cool woman he'd been talking to five minutes ago gone? She nodded, but failed miserably in her attempt to appear interested. "Jackie," Eric finally sighed, going against every bad instinct he had, "Are you, like… okay?"

"I-" Her shoulders slumped. "Eric, you're leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Well, yeah –"

"Then, can you… can you keep a secret?" Her mismatched eyes had turned an intense shade, and they pleaded with his.

"I – yeah, I guess…"

"Okay, well," she paused to throw a glance over her shoulder at the screen door. When she was satisfied that no one had come looking for them, she dropped her voice to a whisper, "I slept with Steven last night." She cringed as soon as she said it, and chewed on her bottom lip apologetically as she waited for his reaction.

Eric just shook his head, not understanding. "Wait, but – Fez…"

"I know," she murmured, shaking her head, too. "I know. It was a horrible, stupid mistake, and I just… I feel so bad. It just… happened, I guess. It was just one of those things…" She trailed off lowly, hugging her arms around herself like she had the chills, even though it was 90 degrees outside.

"And you haven't… told anyone?" guessed, raising his eyebrow.

"No," she shook her head, a glossy sheen of tears forming in her eyes. "I… I can't tell Fez. It'll kill him," she whispered brokenly.

Eric blew a deep breath out and ran his hand through his hair absentmindedly. "God, I –I don't know what to tell you, Jackie," he murmured, glancing up at her and trying his hardest not to see her in a completely different light; one that was not exactly a positive reflection.

"You don't have to tell me anything," she assured him, touching his hand for a moment, but immediately retracting it. "I just… I guess I just had to tell someone. I was gonna burst."

He nodded like he understood, but he didn't. "Okay," he patted her on the arm, already starting to head towards the kitchen door, "As long as you've made peace with it, I guess…"

"Wait, Eric." Her words stopped him, and when he turned around, she was still standing there next to the counter, clutching the forgotten paper towels. "You're not going to tell anyone, are you?"

He paused, and stared down at his shoes as if they would produce his answer. "It was just a one-time thing?" He glanced up at her.

"Y-yes," she confirmed, dabbing at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve.

"Then… no," he settled, with his hand on the door. He cleared his throat. "There's no sense in ruining a perfectly good relationship over one dumb mistake, right?"

"Right," she echoed, and he nodded once and left. But he never glanced back, so he didn't catch her eyes dulling slowly back to the gray, or the way she ground her toe into the ground desperately, like she was just searching for a foothold.

The gentle summer breeze caressed Eric's face as he stepped gingerly back out onto the driveway, completely unnoticed by the mingling guests. Kelso was trying (badly) to dance to the crappy disco music blaring from the radio, while Brooke and Betsy did their best to disassociate themselves from him on the other side of the yard. Casey and Red were engaged in an aggressively loud discussion about the price of oil while Kitty bustled around behind them, pretending to be refilling ketchup bottles. Donna was… he craned his neck, to no avail. She was apparently nowhere to be found. And Fez was sitting at a table, sipping on a beer, laughing amiably at Kelso's wild, jerky antics. Eric couldn't help but hurt for the man, who had no idea he'd been betrayed, and by his best friend, no less. He sighed, and set his beer down on the desert table. He just couldn't imagine how that would feel. If Fez ever found out, surely it would –

"Shh."

Surprised, Eric glanced down. Natalia stood at the other end of the desert table, her chubby little arm poised as she prepared to reach for what appeared to be, judging from the powdered sugar coating her lips, her third or fourth lemon square.

"Shh," she whispered a second time, lifting a finger up to her lips for emphasis. "I'm only 'pposed to have one," she explained as she gingerly pinched her prize between her fingers, lifting it from the saran-wrap-covered plate and up to her mouth.

Eric found that he couldn't stop the chuckle from bubbling up from his throat. "Don't worry," he whispered back, just for fun. "Your secret is safe with me." She giggled when he reached for a pastry, too. "These are my favorite."

Natalia's eyes widened in surprise. "Mine too!" She bellowed, forgetting her secrecy in light of this new revelation. Pausing only to quickly swipe her hands across the front of her jean- short overalls, she bounded over to him. "I remember you," she announced, tipping her head back to stare up at him. "You were at Miss Kitty's house yesterday."

"I was," Eric agreed, polishing off his lemon square. He smiled at the child squinting up at him, but fidgeted for just a moment. "Hey, is your, um, mommy around here?"

Natalia shrugged her shoulders and squatted down on the ground to poke at a passing ladybug, already bored. "I dunno. She just told me to stay right here 'til she got back."

"Oh," Eric nodded, shifting his weight. Even though he knew he shouldn't… knew it was betraying Donna and the very clear answer she'd given him yesterday, he felt like this might be an opportunity to ask the little girl a couple of questions. Who did she call 'daddy'? How old was she, again? Was she… happy? He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Natalia's spirited narrative from the ground.

"Take that, Darth Vader," she declared, poking the offending ladybug with a twig.

Eric grinned, and lowered himself to the ground gently. He drew his legs up so that he was sitting camper-style next to her, and she glanced over at him, her tangle of auburn bangs falling in front of her eyes.

"Do you wanna play?" She asked him genuinely, offering him a twig. Eric just shook his head, finding that his breath had somehow gotten lodged in his throat. Those eyes… God, he knew those eyes…

"I always play Star Wars," Natalia bubbled, happily turning her attention back to 'Darth Vader'. "It's my favoritest movie ever."

"Is it?" Eric cleared his throat, and leaned forward slightly, amused. "And who introduced you to that? 'Cause I know it wasn't your mom," Eric chuckled. "She's always hated Star Wars."

Natalia shook her head, "Well, my uncle Hyde buys me lots of presents. But I think my mom likes Star Wars, too. I think it's her favoritest movie, just like mine."

Eric laughed. "I don't think so, Natalia. Your mom and I," he hesitated, trying to determine the best way to explain he and Donna's on-again-off-again relationship to a four year old, "Your mom and I are old friends," he decided on finally, "And she's never been much of a fan. She left that pretty much up to me," he amended, chuckling.

But Natalia shook her head again, and kicked her feet out in front of her body impatiently. "No… I really think it's her favorite. Miss Kitty said your favorite movie always makes you cry."

Eric froze. "Star Wars makes your mom cry?"

"Y-yeah," Natalia stuttered, thrown by the suddenly serious expression Eric wore. "That's how come she never watches it with me. Cuz she can't even get through the very beginning without crying a little. I can tell, 'cause she goes like this," she proceeded to demonstrate a series of unladylike sniffles.

"Huh," was all Eric was able to mutter. And then, "So, Natalia." A beat. "Do you like ice cream?"

"Alright, brother. You wanna stay. That's… that's interesting. But you're… you're sure about this?" Bill's voice, disbelieving and loud, as usual, boomed through the speaker of the Forman's living room phone.

Eric paused for a moment, trying to get comfortable on the old couch. "Yeah," he breathed slowly, nervous, but sure of his words, "Yeah, I think I am."

"You think you got a story, there?" His producer probed, and Eric bit his lip. Was there a sophomore novel hiding somewhere around Point Place, waiting to be written? A happy ending for Kenny Carmichael, and Dawn Pincerstein, and the rest of the citizens of Point Upon A Place? Truthfully, he wasn't yet sure. What he was sure of was that there was something more to Natalia Pinciotti than met the eye. There was something about her auburn hair… it was thin and fine, unlike Donna's, which was thick and rich. She had an unquenchable appetite for his mother's lemon bars. And her eyes. He saw those eyes every single day, staring back at him in the mirror. Her eyes.

"No, better," Eric cleared his throat. "I think I've got a daughter."

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