AN- So I really, really, liked this piece, but I'm not so sure I do anymore. I have never written anything even close to like this before, and I would love to know what you think! Oh and I own nothing.

Set directly after season 7 finale, this is Hyde in Vegas, and the girl is Sam. JackieHyde.


He was tired, so damn tired. His body was heavy with sleeplessness, depression, and most of all, alcohol.

Hyde found himself wanting to be rid of it, this horrendous body. More than anything he wanted to slip out of his skin and bones and finally just be free.

Well, almost more than anything.

This body he was lugging around no longer held any meaning, this chunk of flesh, bone, and organ had absolutely nothing to live for. He was an animal left for dead, and he wished some vulture would come along and help get rid of the remains.

With each step he took his feet were forced to bear more pain. Each harsh stride shot bolts of ache into his legs, up to his chest, and into his heart. His broad shoulders slouched a little farther down and his head drooped lower with each pace on the cold hard cement.

The bright lights blurred his already obscured vision, and he focused on the pain in his body, instead of the hurt that was lingering in his soul.

His 5'10" one hundred and fifty pound frame he had been carrying around since he was fifteen, finally just got to be too much for him to handle.

Who would have thought, that after everything he had gone through in his life, this event would be the one that broke him.

He couldn't take it anymore.

And that's how he found himself here, in a hotel room he doesn't remember paying for, on a bed half naked he doesn't remember getting into, and with a girl laying on top of him that he can't remember who is, or even what her name is.

But she sure as hell isn't Jackie, so he really doesn't feel like responding to her.

The sheets are rough on his clammy skin, and the florescent light makes his head pound. He squeezes his eyes shut, and now there is no escape to the thoughts that have been threatening to wrack his brain all night.

There is no fix to this mess. No heartfelt apologies or games that end in the favor of his team. There is no tiny brunette begging for him to tell her he loves her, there is no him almost admitting that he does.

No, there is no saving grace.

This girl on top of him is far from what he needs.

She kisses the places that seem correct, where she is supposed to.

And it's enjoyable, but it's not right.

He doesn't love this random girl.

Love was never a factor in sex. Hell, caring or knowing the girl was never a factor, not until Jackie that is. Hyde had talked himself into believing that the opportunity to have sex with someone, other than Jackie, would never grace his doorstep, and now, he wished it was true.

Love was never a factor before, but when Jackie had come along, things had changed, for the better.

But then again, he supposed they just changed yet again tonight, and this time, better wasn't the word he would use to describe it.

Suddenly having sex with this girl doesn't seem so wrong. He doesn't have anything stopping him, no guilt, and no pain. And most of all, when this is all over, there won't be a tiny girl with mismatched eyes looking back at him with a face on that will break his heart.

No, there are no consequences.

After all, the life he decided he wanted is now over.

So he lets the girl keep going. Her hot breath remains on the selected places he assumes she must think he likes. Her tongue leaves moist spots on so many spaces on his tired body he doesn't know how she can reach them all in so little time. Her long, sex red nails leave a light trail marks everywhere she touches. She wraps her toned thighs around his body, and when he should begin to spin into oblivion, he is instead drawn to poignant thoughts of what this should be, of who this should be.

Although this girl isn't Jackie, Hyde finds himself wishing she was at least, a little bit, like Jackie.

Jackie would nibble, and lick, and tease, and all the while she was so sensual about it all, so beautiful. Her personality never changed, no matter where they were, or what they were doing. Her fingertips would roam every spot on his body. Soft and pliable with her bitten down nails. A habit she picked up after he father began to leave on business all the time. She could read him like a book and knew exactly where her lips, mouth, and hands should be at the exact right moments. He can remember the feeling of her small delicate body as they clung to each other, her small arms wrapped around his neck, their bodies steaming as they danced in a perpetual, searing rhythm. His mind would go mad and his body, soul, and heart would leave him and he would be left with nothing but pleasure…

And love.

But this wasn't like that. This woman was rough, hard, and dirty. Something he thought he had left behind. She didn't moan in pleasure, she sneered in achievement, and, although his body may have been burning with the need for sex that no man can deny, his mind and soul were numb without the staggering bliss he had become, somewhat defiantly, accustomed to.

Still when it got right down too it, this wasn't the worst thing in the world, and it wasn't as if he could stop now anyway. The blond was defiantly talented in this department, no one would deny it. At this point he didn't really care if she wasn't giving him anything he had befallen into seeing as erotic and enticing. The girl would probably be out by the time he woke up in the morning, and there would be no penalty for his actions.

He decided to try and get gratification out of this, try to let his body leave him. After all that was what he had been wanting all night. Tonight, he would give this woman his body, she could have it, he didn't want it.

Yes, she could take his body, but not his heart.

No, his heart belonged to someone else.


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