A/N: I know, I know! I'm a horrible fanfic author…but life issues got in the way. But I made you guys a completely perverted J/H one shot, did you guys read it? Go, read! It's completely dirty and incredibly hot and it'll probably make you want to have your own personal Steven Hydes at your disposal…And who doesn't want that?
Also, please pardon if some of this chapter jumps around a bit...but I think I likes it...
Disclaimer: Come on, son. COME ON, SON!
Chapter Twelve: What a Difference a Year Makes…
If someone had asked Jackie Burkhart back in early 1978 what she would be doing New Year's Eve 1980, she probably would've told them that she would be living in a penthouse apartment with her husband, Steven Hyde.
And could've lit up the entire state of Wisconsin with her smile as she said it.
If someone had asked the same question back in 1979…well, they would've gotten a different answer. She would've said with her boyfriend, Fez, but her smile wouldn't have been as bright, her demeanor as engaging.
It didn't take a genius to know that her heart wasn't into Fez as much as she let on.
So was it any real surprise, that as the final moments of 1980 came to a close, she was almost in the exact same predicament that she was back in Point Place, Wisconsin?
Granted, she no longer was the richest girl in the room. Or even the most snobby. But the events of the past couple of years – years she spent loving and existing only for one Steven James Hyde – had shaken her to her core. She was no longer the eternal optimist of 1978.
But neither was she the broken girl of 1979, either.
As she looked around the revelers in the Taylor penthouse apartment, Jackie had to admit to herself that she had done okay this past year. She still wasn't over Steven, but she was trying to move past it. She refused to let him win, refused to have him that control over her. She knew it sounded crazy…but she just couldn't let Steven win. She couldn't let him think that she wasn't moving on, that he had broken her. She was Jackie frickin Burkhart. No man could get her so low.
Who was she kidding? Of course he broke her.
To pieces.
But she was on her way, wasn't she? Who would've thought, only three hundred sixty-five days ago, that she'd be at a party for one of Manhattan's wealthiest families? That she'd be surrounded by music executives, producers – the who's who of the music industry, all around her, close enough to touch?
If it wasn't ironic that she was surrounded by the very same people that she would've loved to be surrounded by less than a year ago, and how now she couldn't care less…if that wasn't the height of irony…then what was?
As 1980 came to a close, as she kissed the man that she liked but did not love, as she tried her hardest to smile and laugh and hold in the sobs that wanted to burst out of her chest at the injustice of it all – Jackie swore that these were the last tears that she would shed for her past. The last tears that she would cry over wounded pride, over miscommunication, over past mistakes that cost her everything. She was done. They were over.
And she knew she lied.
Again.
Jerry and Barbara Taylor did not keep secrets from each other.
When Jerry's friend David Tanner told him that he was cheating on Mrs. Tanner with a waitress from a diner on the Lower East Side, Barbara was the first person he told. It wasn't like he was a gossip hound – in fact, quite the opposite. Jerry hated gossip. But if his wife found out that David was cheating and that Jerry knew about it – there would most certainly be hell to pay.
And the hell that Barbara rained down on her husband was with a weapon that she wielded with stunning ease and precision.
She withheld sex.
And walked around with everything that turned her husband on, knowing he'd cave.
He hated being such a sucker.
But…his wife…even after twenty-five years…she still could get him hard with just a look.
Damned woman.
But he couldn't say that the feeling wasn't mutual. His wife couldn't keep things from him either, and while he was a man that hated gossip, he was also a man that was wise enough to appreciate that his wife wanted no secrets between them, regardless if they were hers or not. He knew she knew that the secrets shared between them would stay that way, and both of them craved that intense intimacy as if it were oxygen.
And that was pretty frickin great.
So it was of no surprise that Barbara Taylor told her husband of what was really going on with their son's girlfriend. She told him about Jackie's Point Place, about her mom. Her dad.
Steven Hyde.
And now…Jerry Taylor was furious.
He wasn't there – he knew that. But Jackie deserved better. She did. Because, like his son, like every member of his household – Jackie Burkhart had captivated him. She wielded a power that not many people had, and could have people eating out of the palms of her hand in an instant. She was charming, and beautiful, and intelligent. It amazed him on so many levels that the people that had created her, the very people that had brought her into this world – could be so callous. So selfish.
So destructive.
As a father, he couldn't understand what the fuck they were thinking. As seriously as he took his work and career, he never would choose those things over his family. Never. To miss out on his children's birthdays, or miss out on recitals, or games…for a fucking job?
Fuck that.
There was nothing, nothing, more important to Jerry Taylor than his family. Absolutely nothing. Nothing more important to Jerry than being waked up by his kids to see what Santa brought them on Christmas morning. Nothing more important than being able to intimidate those horny teenage bastards trying to go out with his little girl. Nothing more important than being able to cheer his son on at a basketball game.
He wasn't gullible enough – or naïve enough – to think that every man was like him, that every man got the best kind of satisfaction from raising a family, and being there for their kids. He got that. He got that.
But he would never respect or accept it.
It was this fury at Jackie's parents that had Jerry look at Jackie with extra fondness. Barbara told him not to treat her any differently than before – but how could he not? How could his heart not break for her – this tiny gorgeous girl with bright eyes, who had been treated like shit by the people she had entrusted her heart to? How could he not want to break Jack Burkhart's face for not being there for his daughter? For not caring about her welfare, for leaving her alone with no one to care for her? How could his wife expect him to not want to avenge her? She had been a child, with no place to go, no one to soothe her. No one stood up for Jackie, no one loved her unconditionally.
She – who had loved so much – was ever rarely shown that love in return.
It fucking made Jerry sick.
Jerry's anger, while heavily targeted towards Jack and Pamela Burkhart, waned a bit when it came to the topic of Hyde. It's not that Jerry didn't burn with anger like he did with Jackie's parents – he did – but it was the kind of anger that was laced with something akin to understanding.
Jerry didn't know this Hyde, this Steven. But as his wife told him Jackie's story, his mind began to draw a picture, and his gut began to color in the lines. The painting that his mind and intuition was that Steven was a man that was filled with some self-loathing, a truckload of mistrust, and a shitload of issues that would cause him to misuse and mistreat the one person that loved him beyond herself.
Jerry could understand it, even excuse it – but he didn't accept it.
He didn't accept it because his father told him, countless times told him – that life wasn't easy. It was hard, and sometimes painful, but the beauty in life made it all worth it. Yes, Jerry was affluent and rich – but he wasn't always that way. He had to fucking work hard, and use every means necessary to protect his family. He was never going to use his wife's position to get where he needed to go – he did things on his own, with his own means. It had been his mantra from day one, "if it means something, you've gotta work for it." He didn't accept those that couldn't abide by his motto, didn't suffer the fools that wanted the easy way. Fuck the easy way. The easy way was for assholes who didn't have the balls to fight for what they wanted.
And that's what Jerry saw when he thought of Hyde – he saw a coward.
But he didn't say anything to anyone other than his wife – as was his custom. He didn't tell his children how much more he loved them than before – a thought that he would've deemed impossible – at taking this girl under their wing. Because of all the things that Jeremiah Taylor hated, of all the things that drove him up the wall – racism, ignorance, not having half and half in the office – the thing that he hated the most, the thing that it almost pained him to see - was an abandoned child.
And that's what he saw when he saw Jackie. For all her worldliness, for all her charm, for all the hard lessons life had taught her in her nineteen years – in Jerry's mind, that's exactly what he saw when he looked at her.
He saw a child, in desperate need of someone to stand for her.
So, that's what he did. He stood for her. He took her under his wing, very much the same way that his wife had. His children never noticed a difference in the way that their father treated their friend…but his wife did.
Which was the reason that she wore that pale blue teddy to bed last night. He always loved the way she looked in blue.
Especially when the garment was so easily discarded…
With his teeth.
Nothing turned Barbara Taylor on more than her husband being a good father. Nothing.
It was the fourth time this month.
She was going to be buying some more tomorrow.
As the winter months of 1981 came to a close, as the city of New York began to welcome spring, Jackie found herself in a place that she never really knew she could be. She was moderately happy – her professors were beyond ecstatic at her work, Mr. Taylor was able to finagle her with a paid internship at a national network, and her relationship with Nate was going really well. In fact, it was going so well, that it had dawned on Jackie that maybe it was time to take their relationship …to the next level.
It had already been a year. Nate had never pressured her, never tried to do more than what she was ready for – and she was grateful. But she didn't really know what to do with such patience, she never really had any experience with it before. With Michael, from their first kiss on – it was all about sex for him. He rushed through the steps, wanting to get to the finish line as quickly as possible. Even after she had lost her virginity to him – no matter where they were or who was around, sex was all that he wanted. She, of course, had learned quickly to control and manipulate the situation to her advantage, but all the gifts and unicorns and flowers never made up for the fact that while Michael was begging her for sex, he was getting same from whores like Laurie and Pam Macy. It sometimes still puzzled her, really – how he could want so much sex from her, when he was out diddling anything in a skirt. All the sexual experience Michael seemed to cultivate didn't exactly mean pleasure for her, per se. If anything, all that cheating tired him out, as he could never last for more than a couple of minutes.
If she was lucky.
But she had hit the jackpot with Steven.
With him…it still somewhat amazed her that she had made him wait so long. God, that summer when Michael and Donna had been in California had been one of the hottest summers of her life. Steven made her feel things physically that she never thought possible.
And that was just from kissing.
Kissing him…it made her want. Being in the same room with him would automatically raise her body temperature to about a thousand degrees; the looks he would give when no one was watching would send about a thousand electrical pulses between the flesh of her thighs. Every time they were alone, his fingers would entangle themselves in her hair, and she'd be drunk with the things he made her feel. They never went any further than she wanted to…and God, it had almost driven her insane to make him wait. But sleeping with Steven would've meant so much more than sleeping with Michael. She had been terrified of the feelings that he had inspired in her – terrified that she would just become a notch on his bedpost, terrified that once he got what she assumed he wanted, he would leave her high and dry, having made the best possible burn in basement history – making everyone believe that he cared…and leaving, just when she had given him her body.
It wouldn't have been the first time that she had given a guy a piece of herself…to have him throw it away the minute the deed was done.
But he hadn't.
He didn't.
Until the nurse, of course.
Sex with Steven wasn't just sex. It never was. There was a rhythm that only they two knew – a melody that their bodies made together that was better than any music she had ever heard. It was only with Steven that she had discovered foreplay, only with Steven that she had discovered the full meaning of making love. They would literally spend hours in bed together. They would steal away hours in her room – away from the basement and all its interruptions – and it was only in those times where she would lay in Steven's arms that she would feel as if life didn't have it out for her. And even amongst all her girlish things – all the pink and unicorns and ABBA posters – it was only when Steven was lying in bed with her that Jackie truly felt at home, truly at peace.
Of course…it would've have been after he had worked her body to an obliterating crescendo…and would eagerly await a repeat.
Oh, he knew how to work her body so well…
It would've shamed Jackie if everyone knew how often it was that she would be the one to initiate sex. But Steven…the physical needs that he inspired in her would always shock her with their intensity. Having him, needing him, wanting him – it would all jumble up inside of her until she felt that she would nearly burst into flames if he wasn't inside of her. The taste of his skin underneath her lips was an addiction that she didn't want to ever recover from, the feel of him inside her was a feeling that fiends the world over sold their souls for to experience. It was the greatest high, the most debilitating emotion. Only Steven could make her feel as if she were flying with a simple touch. Only he could make her wish that the world would disappear with just a simple look. Jackie couldn't count how many times she'd be sitting on his lap, just watching TV in the basement – and he'd just…
Look at her.
Look through her.
And they would immediately seek privacy.
They had ways of communicating that no one understood. A language built up on raised eyebrows, pursed lips, heated gazes, and small innocent touches that could send each other over the edge with need. She would sit on his lap, just watching television with the others, and he could light her world on fire with just a simple graze of his fingertips on her arm. The reaction was immediate, the message was sent, and Jackie would feel herself shiver with desire for him.
No man had ever made her feel the way that he did.
But that was before, and this was now, and Steven Hyde was in her past, and Nate Taylor was her present and foreseeable future. He was handsome, intelligent, kind, and most of all, patient. He had never called her a whore, never suggested a garden gnome as a possible suitor for her, never treated her with the malice saved for the worst of trash.
Nate had done none of these things, yet she was refusing him all of her…and for what? For a man that thought the worst of her, who had broken her in every way a man could break a woman?
No, she was done. Nate Taylor, with his gorgeous eyes and hot body and great personality had chosen her. He loved her. Of all the girls in New York, Nate Taylor had wanted to be with Jackie Burkhart, and she was tired of waiting for her heart to let go of the past and move forward to the future.
Steven Hyde was gone, better left in the past and forgotten. Nathan deserved better.
As Jackie told Brooke after she had made her decision, Nate deserved to have all of her.
So as their one year anniversary was approaching on May 8th, Jackie went into full on seduction mode. She had roped Melissa, and while Melissa groped and complained about how incredibly disturbing it was to help his brother get laid, it also proved how far her and Jackie had come. While Jackie never told her about her past in Point Place, she had let Melissa in gradually. Melissa had been a welcome and necessary balm after Donna's betrayal, and Jackie herself had found that Nate's sister was becoming an even better – and far less self-righteous – friend than Donna ever was.
Jackie knew that Nate was planning on recreating their first date, from the same restaurant they had gone to down to the very same driver that had navigated them through the streets of Manhattan. But this time, Jackie promised herself, he wouldn't let walk into her apartment alone.
She was going to make certain of it.
She had already started to revert back to some old Jackie ways – stopping the course of their makeout sessions in various points of passion. She knew it would keep Nate on his toes, and as Melissa would later share with her, it would make their first time together that much more special, as Nate would cherish it all the more cuz Jackie had made him work for it.
Plus…she had bought scraps of lace that was laughingly called a panty and bra set that she was certain would drive her boyfriend crazy.
The week of their anniversary, Jackie started to feel…weird. It was a feeling…a sense of foreboding and unease that seemingly tainted all her happy moments. What was worse about this feeling was that it was oddly familiar, but yet Jackie couldn't place it. This feeling grew the closer it got to Friday, and as she opened the door to let Nate inside her apartment, she almost convinced herself that the feeling was fate telling her not to take the next step with Nate.
But, as she put the flowers that Nate had gotten her into a vase from the kitchen, fate had fucked with her life for long enough, and she was done being fate's bitch, thankyouverymuch.
"You ready to go?"
Jackie looked up at her boyfriend – at her gorgeous, thoughtful, non-stripper loving boyfriend – and metaphorically gave fate the finger.
"Of course, baby."
They were kissing passionately in the back of the car as the driver drove them back towards Jackie's apartment. They both had had tons of champagne in celebration, and Jackie, seemingly free from fate's unwelcome and unsuccessful to try to fuck her over once again, was feeling happy…and horny. Desire, lain dormant for so long in her body since Steven's devastating exit, had finally been aroused and was welcomed back with open arms. Jackie was giddy from the champagne, and heady with arousal. Tonight was going so perfectly. Sleeping with Nate would be the ideal way to end it.
As they pulled up to Jackie's apartment building, Jackie pulled away from Nate's passionate embrace and asked the question that they had both been waiting for.
"Do you wanna come inside?"
Nate smiled, his eyes filled with desire, and a love that the old Jackie would've happily squealed over. He licks his lips, and whispers quietly in her ear, "I thought you'd never ask."
And they kiss once more.
As Nate and Jackie get out of the car, stumbling because of the drink and laughing because of it, Jackie fails to notice a familiar car parked almost directly across the street from her building. The look of it fails to penetrate the wall of inebriation in Jackie's brain, and she dismisses the foreboding emotion that had followed her almost non-stop since the decision to sleep with Nathan had been made. And that seemed to grow the closer they got to her apartment.
And as Jackie and Nate get off the elevator, Jackie fails to acknowledge the warning bells that start going off in her brain. The bells that start increasing at an alarming rate the closer they get to her apartment.
And as they turn down the corner that leads to the hallway that holds Jackie's apartment, as Nate as his arms full of Jackie, and is nuzzling Jackie's neck, the bells that have been increasing in Jackie's head reach earsplitting levels, and as Jackie looks up, fate swoops in and softly whispers in Jackie's ear, "No. Fuck you."
"Ste-Hyde?"