Past Tense, Future Imperfect: Part 4

by Jaded

Disclaimer: It all remains the same.  Not mine. 

Summary:  The gang, plus parents and Jackie, head up to Madison (where Hyde is working as a bartender), for UW student orientation.  There, the bar-scene is the place to be, and of course, things are bound to happen when you mix teenagers, college students, and alcohol.

A/N:  If feedback be the food of love, review on. It's a great motivater.

Part 4: No Holds Bar

            In the early evenings before his shift, Hyde had taken to lingering by the door of The Rusty Penny, watching as the crowds of people streamed up and down the streets to grab some dinner or a drink, maybe catch a band playing at the Orpheum Theater. 

            "Looking for someone?"

            Hyde jumped a foot, almost falling off the bar's front step.

            "Shit, Dave, quit doing that to me!"

            Hyde's boss laughed, taking another sip of his scotch on the rocks. He raised the glass to Hyde's face.  "I'll quit doing that when you quit acting so moony.  What's up with you anyway?  Waiting for some girl or something?  Who was that chick you went out with last week?  What's her face--"

            "Rachel—look, Dave," he said quickly, changing the subject, "I'm not 'looking' for anyone, especially for any chick."  Hyde felt his voice hitch a little, cleared his throat, and finished, "I'm just being, you know, introspective."

            "Meaning of life stuff, you mean?"  Dave laughed.

            "Get bent, man!"

            "Is that any way to talk to your boss?  The man who signs your paychecks?"  Dave laughed again, took a deep drink of his scotch, and patted Hyde on the back.  "You know I'm just joking, Hyde.  You're a good kid.  And not too bad for business either."

Hyde shot him a curious look.

"Don't lie to me and tell me you haven't noticed those girls that come in here week after week lining up at the bar so they can order drinks from you.  You know, the lookers who like getting all those fru-fru drinks, like daiquiris and amaretto sours." 

Hyde shrugged.

"Yeah, yeah.  Modesty-cakes.  Now get in there and start serving up drinks."

"Gotcha, boss."

It turned out, a bit to Hyde's astonishment, that getting-on with his life wasn't as easy as he had originally thought.  Point Place was still on his mind.  And Jackie.  Jackie still, always on his brain.  A few weeks after he started The Rusty Penny, this cute girl, Miranda, had worked up the guts (after a few drinks) to ask him out, but his automatic response came out, "I would, but I've already got a girlfriend."  It had taken him another five minutes to realize what he had said, and by then it would have seemed really suspicious if he retracted his answer.  He cursed himself the rest of the night for being so stupid, but also for being such a moron.  Why hadn't this been his automatic reaction a few months ago before he started kissing that girl? 

Very few things made sense anymore.  Beer made sense.  You drank it, you got drunk.  Weed made sense.  You smoked it, you got stoned.  But girls?  Well they never made any sense before, but what had always made sense was his relationship towards them.  You dug a chick, she dug you, you did it.  Then once you did it, you went your separate ways, having gotten out of it exactly what you both wanted. 

Yet with Jackie he was a complete basket-case, internally at least.  They never did it when they were together, and yet they had stayed together for a long while.  And in turned out, much to Hyde's dismay, that it wasn't the sex that he wanted, not entirely or even for the most part, because, for that little while at least, he recognized now that it was the not going separate ways that he wanted, the part that made sense.

And that he, Steven Hyde, was feeling and thinking that way, made no sense to him whatsoever.

*~*~*~*~*

            Student orientation had been going on campus for the last two weeks.  Kids, many of them sporting letter jackets, under the misguided notion that high school popularity and social status in a town with a population of 300 and represented through ugly outerwear translated into college-coolness, trailed behind their parents and UW tour-guides decked out in Wisconsin cardinal and white.  They milled around Madison, window-shopping on State Street or staring up at the buildings, some of them marveling as though they had never seen a building higher than three stories. 

            Despite himself, Hyde founding himself looking.  Looking for Eric, Donna, Fez, Kelso, looking so he could avoid them if he saw them.  Explaining, he found, was just going to be more effort than it was worth.  Why address something directly when you could put it off and avoid it until it completely disappeared?  It was a good enough theory as any for him.  He began to think about throwing around the phrase, "Procrastination across the nation!" see how it caught on.

            "Totally catchy," Dave told him, handing him a bucket so Hyde could get more ice from the ice machine in the basement.

            It was Thursday night, and Thursday night meant that the "Three Sirens" were going to be in, boozing it up.  Without fail, at 10:35 PM they showed up, dressed to the nines, hair, make-up, and nails immaculate with the air of a Cosmo photo shoot.  Hyde found it off-putting.  Sure, they were kind of hot, but a guy would have to chip through layer upon layer of foundation and hair-spray to get even close to doing something interesting.  And who knew what they looked like underneath all that gunk anyway?

            Linda, The Rusty Penny's lone cocktail waitress, had given the girls the nickname (she was studying English Lit and Greek Mythology at the UW).  It wasn't given because they were hot ("I don't swing that way personally, but if I did?  Ew!"), or because, like the mythic creatures of myth who lured sailors to their eternal doom with their siren song ("doom to their wallets, more like"), or that they attracted men like flies to honey ("or whores to free drinks").  No, Holly, Marie, and Kristen, the Three Sirens were called so because their voices sounded just like that.  Like sirens blaring warning for approaching tornadoes.  It was a high-pitched wail that pierced through pea-soup fogs, erupted eardrums and made them bleed.  And inexplicably, very few men could resist their charms or understand what these women were really after ("they give the sisterhood a bad name, you know?")

            What they appeared to be after, besides free drinks, was the new bartender at The Rusty Penny, one Steven Hyde of Point Place, Wisconsin.

            "Yeah, I totally don't get it," he said.

            Linda eyed the Three Sirens at their regular corner booth.  "It's like they're lions stalking a gazelle."  She shook her head.

            "Hey, who you calling a 'gazelle?'"

            Linda picked up her tray of drinks and smiled widely.  "I dunno.  You maybe, but then, I've never seen you dance, Hyde."  She walked away, laughing, and went to serve her drinks.

            "And you never will!" he shouted after her.

            "So wanna  take bets on which sucker picks up their tab tonight?"  Dave came around the bar and pointed at the Three Sirens.

            Hyde looked around and saw a skinny guy in a brown suit looking moonily at the Three Sirens.  That's what Forman's gonna look like in ten years, Hyde thought.

            "Him," he said immediately, pointing to the skinny guy.  "Especially if the redhead--"

            "Holly."

            "Especially if Holly asks.  I dunno, I just get this feeling that he's got a thing for the tall, flame-haired ladies."

*~*~*~*~*

            On account that she had no parents and all her close friends and parental figures were going to be out of town with their respective children, Jackie ended up tagging along with the gang to Madison when they headed up for their Freshman orientation weekend.

            Kelso and Fez rode with the Formans, so Jackie rode in the backseat of the Pinciotti car, with Bob driving and Donna in the passenger seat.  On their way up, Jackie gave her friend some helpful tips or two about hair care.

            "You know, Donna, splits ends say something about a woman.  They say on a woman what a mullet says on a man:  That you're a loser who has given up on life, and Donna, you're too young to give up on life!"

            "Uh, thanks, Jackie."

            "I'm just saying!"

            In the last few months, it seemed that the Jackie of old had returned and was back to her old ways.  Eric was not so secret about how not-thrilled he was at this turn in events.

            "It's like she's the devil again!  Reincarnated!"

            Kelso, on the other hand, was giddier than a sexy schoolgirl. 

            "Man!  It's like she's almost back to the old Jackie!  MY Jackie!  Oh man, we are SO gonna get back together soon and like, start doing-it ALL THE TIME again."

            "Please, Kelso," Eric said, "I'm eating."

            There were only two sure-fire ways to get Jackie to stop being Jackie.  The first way was to bound and gag her with rope and duct tape, then leave her in a locked room and hide the key (Donna vetoed this plan.  "You really want to do that, and involve Kelso AND Fez?" she had asked.)  The second way was to mention Hyde, but no one ever did, not intentionally at least.  It was a sore spot with all of them.

            "Are you sure you'll be okay staying at the hotel all by yourself, Jackie?" Donna asked when they began unloading their bags at the University Inn where Jackie had booked a single room.

            "Oh yeah.  Trust me, Donna.  Sleeping in a dorm room and using communal showers?  Not my idea of a good time."

            The UW wanted its new students to get a feel for living the college life, and somehow staying in a dorm room with your parents was supposed to give an impression of that experience.

            "I'm staying with you, Mom!" Eric shouted when they got to the dorm where they were staying.

            "No you're not, dumbass," Red said.

            Kitty laughed nevously.  "Oh, Eric honey, I'm going to be chaperoning Michael and Fez.  You have to share a room with your father."

            Red smiled maniacally.  "You better not be nude, buster.  Unless you want to--"

            "Wear my ass as a hat.  I know, Dad."  Eric looked down at the ground sadly.  "I'm going over to talk to Donna now," he mumbled.

            Eric got to Donna's side a few seconds before Kelso and Fez came running up excitedly. 

            "Oh man!" Kelso said, "Do you know what they call the dorm we're staying at?"

            "Elizabeth Waters Hall," Donna said.  She pointed.  "Like it says on the sign.  Over there.  In the big capital letters?"

            "No!  I heard some guys talking about it just a second ago, and they call it the Virgin Vault!"

            "It is an all girls dorm," Fez said dreamily.  "Oh my god!  There are no men living with them.  They must have to practice kissing each other EVERY NIGHT!"

            "Fez, please," Kelso said, "they've got to have pillow fights once in a while."

            Bob walked up and joined the conversation.  "You kids talkin' about the all-girls dorm?  That's where my Donna's gonna be staying."

            "What, Dad?!"

            "Score!" Kelso and Fez said together.

            "Yeah.  I was just talking to this tour guide and he said that Liz Waters is an all-girls dorm with extra security.  No boys allowed after 10pm, and there are some places guys can't even go without signing in with a resident first.  And that's just the low security section."

            The boys all stared, eyes wide in horror.  Donna swore loudly.

            "Hey, now, Donna," Bob said, shaking a finger. " That's no language for a good Catholic school girl."

*~*~*~*

            The Three Sirens were definitely giving him the eye.  Linda looked at Hyde, trying hard not to laugh.

            "Brace yourself," she said with the side of her mouth.  "One's heading up here, three o'clock."

            Hyde groaned.  Which one was this one?  The tall brunette?  Was it Kristen?  Or was it Marie?

            "Hey Hyde," she cooed, leaning up to the bar.  She batted her eyelashes at him. 

            "Hey."  He picked up a glass and dried it with a rag.

            She leaned over the bar and touched his face.  "Sexy beard."

            In the last month or two Hyde had taken to re-growing his beard.  It was full and scruffy now, like it had been last summer.  A way of reclaiming his identity, he had said snarkily when Dave had asked him if he wasn't getting enough tips at work to afford a razor.

            "Thanks babe."  She giggled.

            He looked at her.  For all intents and purposes, she should've been hot to him.  This was the kind of girl he went for:  Sexy and skanky.  Yet she did nothing for him.  It was disconcerting.

            As the evening wore on, all three girls took their turns, going up to the bar and ordering drinks.  Putting all of it on a tab, of course.  It looked as though Hyde had been correct.  Holly had approached the skinny guy in the suit and was talking him up.  Hyde shook his head when he looked at their tab.  It looked like after tonight skinny-man's wallet would be a lot skinnier. 

            More customers began pouring in around 10pm, and Hyde was busy enough that he didn't have to hold court with the Three Sirens, much to their disappointment.  However, they didn't look broken hearted.  It was going to be another free night for them.

            "Need a break?" Dave asked, pulling some tips from the counter and dumping into a jar by the cash register.

            "Sure." He really did need a break.  This funny feeling had been in the pit of his stomach all night long, and maybe he just need to sit down and have a beer.  Grabbing a bottle by the neck, he headed out towards the back for some fresh air and quiet.  "Back in fifteen," he said.

            Dave nodded.  "See you in twenty then."  He laughed.

*~*~*~*

            "This place looks gross," Jackie pouted.

            "Where are all the slutty girls?"  Kelso said, bouncing on the ball of his feet, staring into the glass window of this little side bar they had walked by.  Realizing what he had just said, Kelso paused and said, "I mean, there are no slutty girls because I don't like slutty girls."  He looked at Jackie.  "I just got eyes for you, babe."

            "Oh shut up, Michael.

            "C'mon guys," Eric said, "it doesn't look that crowded and I dunno, it kind of reminds me of The Hub.  It could be cool."

            The gang was out on State Street tonight.  All the adults had gone for dinner and cocktails up on the capitol square, and knowing of Kitty's predilection for Manhattans, they were pretty sure they could do whatever they wanted to for the next few hours.  And what better to do than drink?  In bars?  In a college town?

            The streets were crowded, and many of the bars had lines going out the door.  Wandering around, they had veered off the main drag and found this little cozy bar.

            "It's a dump," Jackie insisted.

            Donna put her hands on her hips.  "Well I say we go in.  We've been walking around for like, an hour.  Can we just go in somewhere?"

            Fez pressed his face against the glass window.  "I see sluts!" he cried happily.

            Donna grabbed him by the arm and shoved him towards the door.  "We're going in!" she said.  "No 'ifs' 'ands' or 'buts'!"

            "The Rusty Penny?" Jackie said, eyebrow raised?  "Sounds like you can get tetanus from it."  But she went in with them all the same.

            "See, this isn't half bad," Eric said when a table opened up and they sat down.

            But after about ten minutes, the complaints started up.

            "Man, where are all the hot chicks?  The waitress isn't half bad, but if she's not all over me by now, I dunno!"  Kelso said.  "And those hot chicks over there?  They just keep talking to that ugly skinny guy.  If this is the kind of place where foxiness is not appreciated, well then, I don't know!"

            "Hey!"  Eric said, "that guy's not that ugly."

            "Oh my god, it's getting late," Donna said, checking her watch.  "We have orientation at eight tomorrow.  We should probably head back to the dorm to get some sleep."

            "God, you're all old ladies," Jackie said, but she was getting sick of The Rusty Penny too.  This definitely wasn't a place for captains of their cheerleading squad to hang out.

            "And they have no candy!" Fez railed.  "What kind of establishment is this where you have no candy!  And no pretzels either?"

            So they all left, and were a block-away from Jackie's hotel when she realized she had forgotten her purse at The Rusty Penny.

            "My favorite brush is in that purse!" she said.

            "Want us to wait for you?" Donna asked.  She glanced at her watch.

            "It's okay.  The bar is only a block away from my hotel.  I'll be fine."

            "Are you absolutely sure?"

            "What could happen, Donna?"

            Reluctantly, Donna and the others left and Jackie headed back to the bar to get her brush.  She hoped no sluts had touched it.  It was genuine leather after all!

            Popping back into the bar, a tall blonde man approached her.  He smiled wide and lazily, dimples dotting his cheeks.  He leaned against a booth and swirled his drink in his hand.  He gave her the once-over, and then for good measure, did it again.

            "Hey there, sweets."

            She looked at him. He wasn't bad looking.  He kind of had a Shaun Cassidy thing going for him.  She stopped.  This was what college guys were supposed to look like, she thought.

            "Hi." She smiled.

            "What's a cutie like you doing in a place like this?"

            "Oh, I just forgot my purse."  The way he was looking at her suddenly made Jackie feel dirty.  She tried to avoid his stare.  She headed over the booth and started rummaging around, trying to feel where her purse had dropped.

            "Ow!"  She felt a hand slap her on the butt.  She spun around on the booth in surprise and horror.  The blonde man leered. He reached out a hand to grab her again.

            "Don't touch me!" she cried, now a little frightened.  Jackie hated being the victim, but he was so much bigger than she was.  She looked around, wishing Donna had come with her.  Donna could have used her lumberjack hands to knock him out.

            "Nice and firm," he said approvingly.  She saw him stare at her chest.  Her arms went up immediately to block herself.

            "Get away from me!" she yelled. 

            The other bar patrons were now staring, but still, no one did anything.

            "Just a little lovers quarrel," the blonde man said, looking back and smiling.

            "No it's not!" she yelled, her face burning.

            He reached out again, this time grabbing her by the arm, pulling her close.  His face was bright red and puffy with drink, his eyes glassy.  His breath was hot against her face, and she struggled in his grip, trying to scratch him with her fingernails, trying to push him away.

            "Let go of me!" she screamed,  still fighting.  "Let go!"

*~*~*~*~*

Hyde got back from his break only to be met head on with a bar fight.  He heard the commotion from the back room as he wove his way back into the bar.  Linda was rummaging around in the kitchen looking for some pickled onions.  She looked up when she saw him come in.

            "What the hell?"

            Before she could say anything, Hyde was back out in the main room of The Rusty Penny, scanning the room from behind his dark glasses.  In a corner, right beneath a black velvet painting of some church on a cliff with crashing waves, he saw some guy, arms raised in the air, two distinct little hands in his clutches. 

            His first thought was that one of the Three Sirens were being manhandled, tonight picking the wrong guy to hit on.  Although he didn't really feel a whole lot for them, they certainly didn't deserve this.

            I should've stayed on break, he thought briefly before shaking his head and sighing wearily.  He closed his eyes for a split second, his hands balling into fists. 

            "Oh no," he muttered, then without another moment's hesitation, stomped over to the scene.  Patrons were on their feet, watching like deer in headlights, no one else doing anything.  Did no one else besides himself and Red Forman believe in a little ass-kicking anymore?

            Hyde reached the man in six strides.  He reached out and tapped the man on the shoulder, hard.  The blonde man whirled around, then before he could say a word, Hyde watched the man go flying to the ground.  He grunted hard, his body folding like an accordion, and tumbled to the sticky bar floor, his feathery hair flying.

            "What's your problem, man?" Hyde yelled over the music.  "You don't mess with women like that!"  The blonde man looked dazed.  Hyde continued to yell.  "What kind of damned moron are you?"

            "Frigid bitch . . ." the man muttered drunkenly.  "She…she started it." 

            He had enough.  Taking the man by the collar, Hyde lifted him up to his feet.  Then, still holding on to him, Hyde forcefully removed him the fifteen feet it required to get to the door, then threw him out onto the front step.  "Get outta here."  He turned around and brushed his hands.  "Dumbass."

            Holly, the redhead came running up to him, clinging onto his arm.  "Oh. My. God!" she trilled.  "That was so hot, Hyde!"

            He cleared his throat and tried to shake her off.  "You okay?  Or your friends?  Was that guy messing with you?"

            She shook her head furiously.  "It wasn't us."  She reached out a manicured red finger nail and pointed back to the bar corner.  "She was the who started it all."  Holly shrugged. "No idea who she is, though."

            Hyde squinted.  No, he thought, I must be seeing something.  Taking off his glasses and clipping them onto his shirt, he rubbed his eyes.  It couldn't be, he thought, but it had to be.  He felt the blood drain from his face.  His knees became a little less secure in his balance.

            There she was, standing before him in the flesh, one hand clutching onto a purse, the other one curled into a tight fist, held out as though after throwing a punch it had just frozen in that position.

            "Jackie?" he said hoarsely, unable to tear his eyes away.

            She gasped.  "Steven.  Oh my god.  Steven!"

[end part 4]