Morning Glory

Jackie wakes up in a bed that severely lacks stuffed animals and fabric softener and immediately knows something is wrong. Sitting up, she discovers her fabulous party outfit missing, replaced by a pair of boy's boxers and a wrinkled t-shirt that smells somewhat familiar.

Before she can start screaming bloody murder, Hyde enters the room and quickly kicks the door closed behind him. "Oh, good, you're up," he says, and sets a breakfast tray down on the nightstand. "I was beginning to think you were dead and I did not want to have to explain that to Red."

She gapes at him, speechless. He, too, is minimally clad, wearing only his sweatpants and a wife beater, his ever present sunglasses for once MIA. Taking no notice of her shock, he continues to ramble, "I figure you're a pretty picky eater, so I grabbed a little of everything I could before Mrs. Forman came back to the kitchen. Oh, and some aspirin, you've probably got one hell of a headache."

"What the hell –" her screech is cut off abruptly by his hand clamping down on her mouth. Jackie continues to protest, her speech muffled by his palm, then hits upon a more effective tactic.

"Ow!" Hyde exclaims, jumping away from her and cradling the hand she'd bitten down on. "What the hell was that for! You broke the skin!"

"Serves you right," she responds primly, rearranging herself so that she is cross-legged in his bed and the covers are pulled to her shoulders.

Inspecting the damage, he practically growls at her. "How do you figure that?"

"You wouldn't let me talk."

"I was doing the world a favor," he grumbles, more to himself than anything, and finally looks up from his battle wound. "And trying not to get us caught. Good job being stealth, double-oh-stupid."

"Listen, mister," she threatens angrily, "I don't know what your problem is or why I'm even here, but if you don't start explaining yourself right this instant, you're gonna wake up tomorrow with those sideburns shaved right off."

"You wouldn't dare."

She meets his stare dead on, fire flashing in her eyes. "Try me."

Hyde holds the staring contest for another minute, mostly to prove to himself that he could win if he really wanted to, then breaks into a tangent. "This is the thanks I get. You know, try to do one good thing, even the score between me and the man, maybe make up for the shoplifting thing, and what happens? I get bitten. By a small, vapid beast that probably has seven different kinds of rabies!"

"Aw, but Steven," she bats her eyelashes innocently. "You shouldn't be scared of rabies. You've gotten way worse STDs from all those easy skanks you mess around with."

"Oh, leave my skanks out of this," he says irritably. "At least they're always satisfied and don't have to look elsewhere for more pleasure, like, oh say, your boyfriend did?"

Jackie gasps and, as if on cue, her eyes fill with tears. "Steven Hyde," she says, her voice trembling, "You are the meanest person I have ever met."

"Me?" he repeats, incredulous. "You think I'm mean? Here I am, trying to help you out after I already saved your ass last night, and what do I get for my trouble? Bitten, that's what! You're impossible, woman! And you can't hold your liquor! And … and you're crying. Oh, God. Please don't cry."

"Well, I don't know why you're yelling at me," she whines through her sobs. "I didn't do anything to you. I just bit you 'cause you scared me."

Hyde slumps down on the bed next to her, defeated. "Okay, okay, enough already. I'm sorry, Jackie. I'm sorry I scared you. I just didn't want Red to hear you screaming at me. This would be a little hard to explain."

"But I don't even know what's going on," she continues to cry, but the intensity has definitely lessened. He breathes a small sigh of relief. "What am I doing here? In your clothes?"

"Jackie, I brought you here after the party last night," he reminds her. "You were drunk. You put on my clothes 'cause you said you didn't wanna wrinkle your party dress."

She's still eyeing him suspiciously, but there's a vague recollection of the night forming in her mind and she's pretty sure he's telling the truth. It would explain her headache. And the fact that the shirt she's wearing is not only wrinkled, but backwards.

"And nothing happened?" she asks, just to be on the safe side.

"Nothing," he promises. "Do I look like Fez to you?"

She giggles a little at that and, after a minute has passed in silence, offers him a small, apologetic grin. "Sorry I bit your hand, Steven."

"Eh, no big deal," he brushes off, though it's still throbbing and will probably bruise. And won't that just be a joy to explain to the guys. "Sorry I tried to smother you."

"It happens," she shrugs and they both laugh. Another minute goes by. Jackie nudges his shoulder gently with her own. "About that breakfast …"

"Oh, yeah," he remembers, reaching for the tray. "Mrs. Forman's probably been up since dawn, there's quite a spread laid out up there. Of course, you'll have to settle for the scraps I could grab."

Her eyes light up at the tray's contents. A waffle, two blueberry pancakes, a corn muffin, one bowl of sliced melon and another of strawberries … "Steven," she says in wonder, "You call these scraps?"

"You forget I once had a lucrative career as a shoplifter," he jokes. "All kinds of stuff just falls into my hands."

Jackie arches an eyebrow at him over the strawberry she's popping into her mouth. "Lucky you," she mumbles as she chews.

"No, lucky you," he disagrees. "It's just a good thing that I decided to use my powers for good and not evil, or else you'd be starving right now."

"Then you're still the lucky one," she argues right back, breaking the muffin in half and offering him a chunk. "'Cause I get cranky when I'm hungry."

"You? Cranky?" Hyde feigns disbelief. "Never."

And he kind of expects it when the rest of her muffin hits him squarely in the nose.