The rain abated some as he finished his cigarette and reached into the pocket of his jeans for another one. He stuck the second between his lips and she heard the flick of his lighter a couple of times before he got it to light up.

She looked at him and saw the tip of the stick glow cherry red as he sucked it in.

"Why are you with her, Steven?" she asked seriously.

He flicked cigarette ash into the bushes behind and brought the stick back to his lips. The tip of it burned red again. He didn't seem inclined to answer her.

"Are you happy?" she tried instead.

He blew out smoke.

"I don't do happy, Jackie."

She pursed her lips and her earrings jingled slightly as she leaned over the side of her chair to face him.

"Steven, I want you to be happy. This thing that you're doing," she gestured towards the cigarette, "your fights with Sam, and the endless drinking... Steven, you're not happy."

He tensed.

She was well-versed in the art of reading Steven Hyde and she knew she had struck a nerve. She bit her lip and braced herself for the backlash that was sure to come.

"Fuck off Jackie. Where the hell do you get off with this bullshit anyway!"

He stood up and put out his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger, welcoming the sharp sting of pain.

She stood up quickly too and reached out to put a hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. He was strung tight beneath her fingers and she was surprised when he did not immediately fling her hand off.

"Steven. Steven wait."

He spun around so quickly she was almost thrown off balance. Leaning in close, he growled in her face.

"You've no right. No right at all."

Tears prickled her eyelids but Jackie kept her composure.

"No, Steven. I have every right. I care about you."

She tried to see past his sunglasses, to look into the blue eyes that she had loved so much and held his gaze, willing him to look into her and willing him to know that she had not given up on him just yet. His words however, crushed what hope she might have had of them salvaging that closeness that they once had.

"Then you wouldn't have left, doll."

He turned and stalked back into the house, leaving her standing out on the patio as the sun came out and dried up all evidence of the rain that was there before.

"Hey, Donna."

Jackie took a tentative step into Donna's room. The place was a mess. Two giant suitcases sat open on her bed with clothes half strewn across them. Boxes were scattered across the floor, some taped with words like 'Books' or 'Records' scribbled across them, others had 'Charity' or 'Junk'.

"Jackie, hey."

She stepped over some of the boxes and swept her skirt neatly out from under her before she perched gingerly at the corner of Donna's bed.

"So looks like you're all set, huh," she said, looking around, and wondering how all of it was going to fit into the small apartment that Randy had asked Donna to move into with him.

Donna looked over and smiled. "Yeah. Just about."

"Your dad's gonna miss having you around."

Donna blew some of her golden hair out of her face and stuffed her fingers into her back pockets. "Yeah, he's taking it really hard."

She shook her head and looked around her room. "I'm gonna miss living here. It held some really good memories," she said as a slight smile crept across her face.

"I bet it did. Oh, and here," she said, rummaging through her purse, "here's the jewelry chain that you wanted." Her fingers closed around it and she held out a long necklace chain to Donna.

"What's it for?" she asked Donna curiously as Donna reached across to take it from her.

Two rings lay across Donna's empty desk — she saw them now. Curiosity piqued, she got up to take a closer look at them. "Omigod, did Randy prop—"

Her words died on her lips as she recognized the rings that Donna was gently stringing onto the chain. She recognized them because she had helped pay for one of them, before Eric had finally coughed up the cash to pay her back.

"You kept them."

Donna met her eyes briefly before fastening the chain around her neck, the two rings resting against her heart. She gave Jackie a small smile in response.

"Of course I did."

"You're wearing them."

Donna hung her head and rested both hands on the edge of her desk. Her voice was soft when she spoke and Jackie had to strain to hear her.

"I can't... I can't seem to help comparing them, you know. Randy and... Eric."

Donna looked up at her, torn. "I know I shouldn't. Especially since Randy and I are moving in together... And they're both so different from one another."

She sighed. "Randy's so good to me. But I can't help it... It's Eric, you know."

Jackie's chest felt tight, and something ugly pooled itself at the pit of her stomach.

"Eric's not the same person he used to be," she said lightly.

Donna's eyes narrowed slightly on her. "It doesn't change anything. It's still Eric. I spent most of my life loving him. It doesn't just die, Jackie."

She looked away and pulled out the rings she had previously tucked under her sweater. "I resent you, you know," she said quietly, playing with the rings. "I know it's not right and I understand why you left."

She met Jackie's eyes. "But I resent you. I hate that you know more about him now than I do. That you've spent time with him. That you were part of his life there in Africa. It's the one part of him that I'm not a part of, and I hate that you have that." Her shoulders dropped.

Donna lowered her head and slipped the rings on the fourth finger of her left hand. She twisted them absently around the finger, preoccupied with thoughts of something else.

"Jackie, did he... Did he, you know, have someone there? You know, like a girl," she asked tentatively, glancing upwards at her.

Jackie's heart leapt to her throat. Something bitter filled her mouth and she swallowed a couple of times. Glancing away she busied her fingers with the handles on her purse.

"I didn't see anyone else when I was there," she said lightly, refusing to meet Donna's eyes.

Donna gave an audible sigh of relief. "I know it's probably none of my business anymore. But I can't help feeling relieved."

She took in a deep breath and gave Jackie a small smile. Pulling the rings off her finger, she tucked them back under her sweater then picked her way over to her bed and pushed aside a suitcase to make space for her to sit. Folding her arms, she leaned over and bumped shoulders with Jackie.

"Hey midget," she said softly, "thanks for being my friend."

Jackie's return smile was a lot less genuine and a lot more forced.

"Anytime, lumberjack."