A/N: Thank you so much for the support and reviews, my lovely readers! I hope that everyone is staying safe and healthy out there. Here's our next installment.

Chapter 12 (XII)

November, 1984

"Hoo, something smells good," Casey remarked as he entered the Pinciotti kitchen. Donna stood in front of the oven in an apron and oven mitts, and he tapped her rump playfully as he passed by.

"I'm making muffins," she giggled.

"Now wait a second." Casey had taken a relaxed, lounging position at the kitchen table. "This isn't going to be like last time, is it?"

Donna whirled around in mock annoyance, her red hair fanning out behind her but a telltale smile on her lips. "God, that was one time!"

"They were burnt to a crisp," Casey laughed. "And you had the audacity to tell me they were just chocolate-flavored!"

"You should've seen your face when you bit into that," Donna laughed, apparently admitting defeat when it came to her muffin making prowess. Casey stood up from the table and crossed the room to her in just a few bounds, wrapping her in his big arms.

"Oh you think that's funny, huh?" His hands securely around her waist, he lifted her up and swung her around to sit on top of the kitchen island. Then he leaned forward and met her lips in a sweet kiss.

"Maybe a little," Donna said when they parted, holding her fingers just an inch apart.

"Well," Casey scoffed. "Now I don't feel like giving you your surprise."

"A surprise?" Donna jumped down from the counter and opened the oven door to check on her muffins. "What kind of surprise?" She leaned back against the oven and crossed her arms, raising a playful eyebrow at Casey.

"Oh, just a little surprise I've been working on for my beautiful fiancé. But if you don't want to see it, I mean, that's fine," he teased her lightly.

"I want to see it!"

"You sure?"

"Casey!"

"All right, all right," he chuckled. "Wait here." He left the kitchen and returned shortly with his work briefcase. He set it down on one of the chairs, then opened it up and pulled out a large, rolled-up piece of paper. He gingerly unrolled it and spread it out across the kitchen table, revealing that it was a blueprint. For a house.

"What's this?" Donna had walked over to the table, and she touched the edge of the blueprint unsurely.

"It's a house," Casey explained. "For us. You, me, and Natalia." When Donna didn't say anything, he continued. "There's a plot of land for sale out in that new development off the freeway, and I think it would be perfect. We can start building in just a few weeks, and have it ready to move in by next spring." Donna still stared down at the blueprint, so Casey grabbed her shoulder and gave it a light shake. "What do ya think, babe?"

"I'm, um," Donna swallowed, and finally looked up at him. "Confused, I guess."

"Confused? Why?"

Donna pursed her lips, clearly thinking over her answer carefully. "Well, it's just… what's wrong with this house?"

"Are you kidding?" Casey leaned away from the table and the blueprint now, and crossed his arms. "It's not ours, that's what's wrong. It's yours."

"That's not true –"

"I still have my apartment," Casey waged, interrupted her. "Across town. I still stay there most nights."

"You stay here a lot of nights, too, don't pretend. You keep a toothbrush here," Donna argued back. "And you have a drawer."

"I want more than a damn drawer."

Donna paused, and weighed his words. "I get that," she acknowledged slowly. "Especially now that we're engaged. It's time to start building a more permanent space for all of us."

"Exactly." Casey reached across the table and took her hand. "And I designed this house with you in mind. You and Natalia. Just take a look at it – I really think you'll love it."

Donna bit her lip. She didn't make a move to look at the blueprint. "Casey," she started slowly. "I – look, I want to stay here. It's my childhood home, and I've spent years making it into the place that Natalia and I call home. All of my memories are here. All of Natalia's memories are here. Moving somewhere new, I'm just… not ready for that right now." Her eyes met his, pleading for him to understand.

"I can't believe this." Casey shook his head in disbelief. He dropped her hand abruptly.

"What?"

"This isn't the reaction I was expecting, at all." He leafed his hand through his hair, and started pacing.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I thought you were ready to build a new life together!" Casey exploded, whirling around to face a startled Donna.

Donna frowned. "I am. Look, Casey, I realize that we're engaged now and that means we're both going to have to make some sacrifices, but –"

"Don't you get that we can't do that here?" His voice was becoming louder and louder. "Build our new life? Huh?"

"Why not? I don't know why you're so mad." Donna shook her head. Casey continued to pace menacingly around the kitchen, and Donna moved away from him. She backed up until her backside bumped into one of the kitchen counters.

"Because you live next door to your freakin' ex, and his family!" Casey was outright yelling now. "That's why, god damn it!"

"They're a second family to me," Donna spoke lowly, incredulous. "You know that. They've helped me with Natalia time and time again –"

"Not them," Casey snarled. "Him."

"Eric?" Donna actually started to laugh. This only served to infuriate Casey more. "Eric and I are ancient history. You know that."

"You really want it to seem that way, don't you?" Casey snapped. "And yet, every time I come over lately, who's here? Huh? Him."

Donna started to shake her head. "Casey, you're really being unreasonable –"

"SHUT UP!" Casey screamed. He slammed his open palm down onto the kitchen table, creating a noise so loud and violent Donna feared Natalia would hear it from upstairs. "Don't god damn talk to me that way!"

Donna's mouth hung open in shock. She had never seen this kind of behavior from Casey before – nothing even close to it. "I don't like being talked to this way, either," she mumbled. "You should go."

"Yeah, great idea. I'll go," Casey agreed nastily, shoveling his blueprint and other documents into his briefcase hastily. He didn't give Donna so much as a backwards glance before the door slammed shut behind him.

In a state of shock, Donna sunk to the floor, stunned by Casey's outburst and not sure exactly how to process it. Moments later, the fire alarm began to go off.

Damn it all – she'd burnt the muffins again.

Just one house over, Eric was having cooking difficulties of his own.

In an effort to help Kitty with her workload of running a family, a small business out of her home, and caring for her dying husband, Eric had offered to cook dinner. He'd diligently done the grocery shopping and prepared the chicken, but now, unfortunately, he pulled a charred mess out of the oven. Set oven to 400 degrees and leave for 30 minutes, he'd thought to himself. What could be so hard about that? Turns out that setting a cooking timer was crucial.

"Oh." Kitty entered the kitchen through the swinging door. "That doesn't exactly look… edible, Sweetie." She held the small plastic dishes they used for Red's portions in her hand. Lately it had been too difficult for him to get out of his makeshift bed in the lounge, so either Eric or Kitty had been serving (and sometimes feeding) him in bed.

"Yeah," Eric agreed, scrapping the charred chicken into the garbage can underneath the kitchen sink. "Sorry, mom. I'll, like, call for a pizza or something instead."

"No, no," Kitty waved away his suggestion as if it were nonsense. "I've got ingredients here," she insisted, opening up the pantry and beginning to sift through it. "I can make a salad. Or maybe a corn casserole."

"Mom." Gently, Eric grabbed her arm, stilling her. "You worked all day today, taking care of the daycare kids, and then you spent the next three hours taking care of Dad." Kitty paused, and seemed to be listening. "You have to be exhausted," Eric finished. "Let me deal with dinner. Like I should've been here to help you deal with all of this for the last few months."

Kitty met his eyes, and although they were filling with tears, she patted his arm. "You're a good boy," she said.

"C'mon," Eric gestured towards the table. "Let's sit. Just for a minute." To his surprise, his weary mother followed him to the kitchen table and took a seat. He eyed her carefully. "Mom," he began. "Are you… like, okay? Besides the obvious."

"Of course," Kitty waved him off. "I'm fine."

"Really?" Eric raised his eyebrows. "Because you've been the only one here, dealing with this stuff for a long time." When she didn't react, Eric continued, "I wish I would've called more, or come to visit earlier. Maybe this wouldn't have happened, or maybe I just would've been able to help more so it wasn't all on you."

"Oh, honey," Kitty patted Eric's hands. "Don't feel guilty. It was your father's idea not to tell any of you kids what was going on."

"Why?"

Kitty sighed. "I don't think he'd ever admit this, but it had to do with his pride. You know your father, Eric – he never wanted to admit he was weak, or to ask for help." Eric nodded. "He'd never admit this either," Kitty continued, "But he was so proud of you. Incredibly proud. And he didn't want to interrupt your success, I think."

"Dad was proud?" Eric repeated, incredulous. "Of me?"

"Your book," Kitty shrugged. "Your movie. He'd tell anyone that he could – hey, that's my boy. He lives in New York, and writes movies, and has all kinds of money." She laughed, and then she softened. "He didn't want you to sacrifice your career to come home and care for your ailing father," she explained. "And I told him that you would want to know, and that you could take a break from your writing, but… he's stubborn." Kitty looked up at Eric. "You get that from him."

"I didn't know," Eric stammered. "That dad was proud of me like that."

"He is," Kitty nodded, and smiled at her son. "And for the record," she winked, "I am, too."

"That means a lot, Mom," Eric's voice swelled with emotion. "Thank you." He cleared his throat. It felt good to have his mother's reassurances, but truthfully, he knew he always would. A deep regret still gnawed at his conscience, though. "You've always been the backbone of our family," Eric told her sincerely. "You put all of us before yourself. I just… want you to know that it hasn't gone unnoticed, or unappreciated. Okay?"

"Eric," Kitty swatted at the air affectionately. "I'm happy to do it."

"Yeah, maybe," Eric shrugged. "But still – we're lucky to have you. Me, Dad, and Laurie, too."

Kitty paused for a moment, taking in his words of thanks, before breaking down into exhausted and overemotional tears. Eric engulfed her in a hug, glad that for once he could provide some support to the woman who supported them all, endlessly.

"Fellas." Eric grinned and clasped hands with Kelso in a bro shake, taking the spare seat at their high-top table. It had quickly become clear that Mac's was the new 'it' spot in town, the grown-up Hub, if you will. Kelso, Fez, and Hyde gathered there each weekend as a ritual, and now Eric was happy to join them. "How's it going?"

"How are you?" Fez asked. "Your new job – it's at a school, right?"

"Yeah," Eric shrugged. "It's… going, I guess."

"You don't like it?" Hyde guessed.

"No, no, it's fine," Eric clarified. "The kids, they're just – something else."

"Yeah that was us," Hyde raised his eyebrow, "Not so long ago."

"I don't remember us being this mean," Eric frowned.

"Oh, we were," Hyde slapped his shoulder. "Rest assured."

"Can confirm," Fez raised his hand in solidarity. Memories of football players stuffing him in lockers for being the least bit different invaded his mind, and he shuddered.

"Well, I'm not sure I'm cut out for this," Eric confessed as he poured himself a beer from the pitcher on their table.

"Oh, c'mon," Hyde scoffed. "Don't let them win, Forman. This is just like those bullies in middle school, you know?"

"Win?" Eric raised his eyebrows. "Hyde, at this point they've all but taken over. Pretty sure my fifth period has a reputation around the school for being 40 minutes of pure anarchy." He sipped his beer, and contemplated what he'd said. "You know, you probably would've liked it."

"Ah," Kelso interjected. "You're the Mr. Borman, huh?" Mr. Borman had been a chemistry teacher at Point Place High. He was infamous for letting students do pretty much whatever they pleased, with no oversight or consequences to speak of. During senior year, there were rumors going around that Samantha Perkins from their class had actually gotten pregnant during one of Mr. Borman's 'lectures'. The poor guy had just droned on and on about neutrons, totally oblivious.

"Yeah, but I'm… you know. Cooler. Hip," Eric tried to defend himself.

Kelso and Hyde shared a glance between themselves, and then simultaneously burst out into laughter.

"I am cooler than Mr. Borman," Eric protested. "It's a low bar." When his friends still didn't stop chuckling, Eric downed the rest of his drink. "Assholes," he grumbled.

Soon, the conversation changed course.

"Oh, man," Kelso started in. "Brooke's pregnancy cravings have been off the wall this week. Like, salami with honey? Who eats that?" The guys all shrugged in solidarity, but then Kelso's expression turned to a goofy grin. "It actually wasn't bad. I had this idea – what if I turned all of Brooke's pregnancy cravings into a restaurant? Wouldn't that be so smart?"

Eric shrugged. "Well, your only clientele would be pregnant women, probably."

"And me. I'll eat anything on a dare."

"That's true," Hyde interjected. "Sophomore year he ate a s'more with a cricket in it."

"It added some crunch, but wasn't half bad," Kelso reflected. "One time Casey made me eat a junebug live, because I played one of his records without asking. The cricket wasn't nearly as bad as that."

"Yeah, well, Casey's always been a dick," Hyde opined, before taking a long pull from his beer.

"Whoa," Eric said. "I thought everyone, like, worshipped Casey now."

"Nah, man. Not me," Hyde spoke his words around a belch. "He thinks he's the man because he started a construction company and built some shit. Big whoop. Guy acts like he owns the whole damn town."

"He kind of does, though," Fez interjected, frowning. "There's that new development out by the freeway, the K-mart on 4th, the new strip mall by Flyer's Park, this place…" he rattled off Casey's accomplishments, keeping track on his fingers.

"So?" Hyde shrugged. "Doesn't give you license to act like an asshole."

"What did he do, Hyde, damn?" Kelso exclaimed. "I mean, he's my brother so I hate him, too. But why are you so pissed?"

"I'm not pissed," Hyde took another swig of his beer, and then wiped at the mustache it left behind with the back of his hand. "Just ran into him at the mall the other day and wasn't impressed. That's all." He paused. "Told me some shit about him and Donna that left a bad taste in my mouth."

"Like what?" Eric asked, his curiosity suddenly piqued.

"I just don't get good vibes. Don't know if they're on the same page." Hyde shrugged again. "But I could be wrong."

"What makes you think that?" Eric probed.

"Gonna need another pitcher for that, man." Hyde clapped Eric on the back as he stood. "What do you say, boys? Another round?"

The guys all cheered in response, and Hyde grinned and made his way towards the bar. He hoped his favorite guy, Anthony, was working. He was a young kid from Milwaukee with both arms full of cool tattoos. He always put Zeppelin on for Hyde when he requested it, and he made solid whiskey recommendations. Hyde didn't see Anthony, and so he leaned his arm over the bar waving a $20 bill, hoping to quickly gain the attention of the new guy who was tending the bar tonight.

"Whoa, sharp shooter."

Hyde glanced up and his gaze landed on a smart-looking blonde at the bar next to him. She sipped on a mixed drink and batted her heavily made up eyelashes.

"'Scuse me?"

"I said 'sharp shooter'," the girl repeated. "I see you waving that twenty-dollar bill around."

"Just tryin' to get some attention," Hyde chuckled.

"Well, you've got mine." The girl swiveled around on her bar stool, so she faced Hyde. He sized her up immediately, and no doubt about it, she was hot. Her top was red and twisted around so it made a crop top, revealing her toned stomach. Her light-wash jeans rode high on her hips, and a pair of worn out Converse rounded out her look.

"Is that so?"

"It is," she jeered, leaning forward to reveal more of her cleavage.

"Hyde!" A voice burst forth. It was Anthony, his guy, and Hyde turned away from Converse-girl to arrange for another pair of pitchers to be delivered to their table. When Hyde turned around to head back to his table with the pitchers in his hands, the blonde was still staring at him coyly.

"That's a lot of beer," she remarked. "Don't you need someone to share it with?"

"Yeah, my friends." Hyde jutted his chin towards their high-top table, where Kelso and Fez were apparently watching the blonde's every move. Hyde rolled his eyes, and started to move back in their direction.

"Okay, honey," she drawled, with an accent that indicated she wasn't from Wisconsin. "Well just so you know, I'll be here all night."

"You know, I'm flattered," Hyde told her. "But I'm not interested."

"Girlfriend?" she guessed, releasing a sharp breath that blew her bangs up.

"Something like that."

"Well she's a lucky girl." She raised her eyebrows, and glanced around Hyde at his friends. Kelso was craning around Fez in an attempt to keep an eye on she and Hyde's conversation… so much so that he appeared to be nearly sitting in Fez's lap. "Or he's a lucky guy."

"Yeah," Hyde responded flatly. "Have a good one." He raised one of the pitchers at her and returned to his friends.

"What the hell was that?" Fez verbally attacked Hyde as soon as he placed the pitchers on the table and sat back down. "Did you even get her number?"

"Huh?" Hyde pretended to be confused as to what they were referring to. "Oh, her. Nah. Not my type."

"She's everyone's type," Kelso spastically interjected, just as upset at Hyde as Fez was. "HOT."

"I guess," Hyde shrugged. "Just not really interested. Why do you care?"

"I live through you now, man," Kelso shook his head. "And I'm disappointed. Five years ago, I woulda been leaving with her tonight, no question about it." Fez nodded along vigorously.

Hyde raised an eyebrow. "But now you're leaving and going home to Brooke and your kid."

"I know," Kelso whined, with all the energy of a four-year-old who'd just been told he couldn't have another piece of candy. "But that doesn't mean I can't look."

"And be a wingman," Fez added. "Let us get you a lady, Hyde."

Hyde smiled. "I'm comfortable with the amount of tail I get, Fez, but thanks."

Conversation quickly turned to the boring stuff of being grown: mortgage payments, the price of gas, and the mundanities of working life.

Kelso, to everyone's surprise, was still a cop. He worked for the Kenosha PD, just a few miles over, and had somehow managed to avoid firing a weapon at the wrong time or racking up a sexual harassment charge (so far). Fez had completed a certification at the local beauty school a few years back (much to Red's amusement and constant burns) and now worked as a hair stylist, cutting mostly men's and children's hair at a local salon.

Hyde always felt uncomfortable when this topic came up. He and W.B. had had a falling out years ago, and in response Hyde had left Grooves and found work at Hole In The Wall. The owner was a chill guy who often reminded him of Leo, and as a manager he made enough to support himself. It was fine. There just wasn't much else to say.

"I'll be back," Hyde slid off his bar stool and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. He shook them lightly at his friends, indicating that he was stepping outside to smoke.

Outside in the crisp air, Hyde could really think. He lit the tip of his cigarette and brought it to his mouth pensively.

The truth was: the blonde at the bar was hot. His type, too - that had been a lie. So why hadn't he leapt at her come-on's? He frowned when the first image that jumped to his mind was Jackie, the last time she'd stayed over at his apartment. He saw her standing over his kitchen sink in her little white bathrobe, humming something under her breath while she did the dishes. That was it. That was all he could think of.

Hyde shook his head to clear the image from his mind. She wasn't his girlfriend. She was his best friend's girlfriend - serious girlfriend. So why the hell couldn't he get her out of his mind?

The front door to the bar creaked open, and Hyde looked up to see Fez.

"Can I have one of those?" He gestured to the cigarette, and Hyde smirked.

"You're not gonna like it."

"I want to try." Hyde shrugged, and produced another cigarette from his jacket pocket. He gave it to Fez, who held it up to his mouth and then waited for Hyde to light it. He inhaled, and then coughed violently for a few moments. "Ah, my friend," Fez sputtered when he could collect his breath again. "You are always right. I should've known."

"It's a curse," Hyde agreed. He took the cigarette from Fez and dropped it to the pavement, before swiveling his boot over the spark to put it out. The two friends leaned up against the outer wall of the bar in silence for a few moments, their breath producing puffs of white air in the cold November night.

"I want to talk to you about something," Fez said after a few moments. His tone was serious, something Fez rarely was, and Hyde felt his heart drop towards his knees.

"Okay," Hyde's voice cracked.

Fez was silent for another moment, as if he was trying to decide how to say what he wanted to say. "You were my first friend," he finally began. "When I came here. You stood up for me in high school when the football players bullied me, and you brought me to the basement where I met the first true friends I've had in my life."

Hyde glanced at Fez out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge where this conversation was going, but Fez's expression was unreadable. "You taught me everything I know about this country, and girls, and being a friend." Fez paused. "I know we've had our differences and have even dated the same woman," Hyde's breath hitched in his throat. "But I've never believed that any of that would drive us apart," Fez continued.

He knows, Hyde thought, his heart thudding dangerously. He knows that I betrayed him with Jackie, and he's about to say it. He swallowed hard, unsure how to prepare himself for the moment he'd been waiting for.

"I think you knew this has been coming for a while," Fez continued. "But I just wanted to talk to you first. Before everyone else starts talking about it."

Hyde nodded, and swallowed. He could respect that. "Look, man –"

Fez reached into his pocket, and produced a small, black jewelry box. "I'm going to propose to Jackie," Fez grinned, flipping the jewelry box open to reveal a diamond engagement ring. "And I want you to be my best man."

"I'm… honored," Hyde choked out. Honored.

A/N: Coming up next chapter... Hyde confronts Jackie, Donna confides in Eric, and Eric and Red have a bonding moment.

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