Her hair on the dank, time-rotten, wall was the last thing Jackie was going to worry about, she decided. She was just too distracted to get high maintenance over something she would have worried about before. And as the old saying goes 'That was then..' words of wisdom her life, as of late, had been entirely ruled upon.

'As the dying often do…' she thought.

Should she have been concerned? No, not really. What was there to be concerned over? It couldn't have possibly been the fact that she was making out with Steven Hyde during school hours in a janitor's closet. The clichéd, tried and true, tradition would have made her laugh or chortle or at least humour some fine line of sarcasm, but she found that her mouth was occupied by a rather skilled kisser.

She couldn't be bothered, not at a time like this, when she had finally found a refuge in someone who couldn't care less about her. She wouldn't be around much longer, and while could she was getting her kicks.

Statements like that made her outwardly cringe. At separated moments she would take a minute or two and think about how cruel and unfair it all was. She'd close off her mind before it all really sank in, before the hysterical tears could envelope her in its arms (something she had yet to do) and Jackie certainly wasn't about to have that moment in front of anyone. If it could get to her before time ran out. But she couldn't be bothered, she couldn't be bothered.

Surprisingly, her rendez-vous's with Hyde were not something she planned. She had run into him at a record store and things had progressed before she knew it. That Before She Knew It entailed making out in his car and the basement. Not enough to give her a badass pass but it was enough to keep her intrigued, which was difficult with her predicament.

The said silky tresses of ailing heiress had calloused and rough hands entangled in it. Jackie let out a muffled groan as she tilted her head up slightly. Her hands busied themselves by running up and down Hyde's clothed back, feeling the soft and weathered shirt over the surprising muscles she had been fond of discovering. Pulling him closer she could only breathe heavily as his lips kept kissing and caressing her neck. Closing any space left between them Hyde lifted Jackie on a rusted sink and leaned in, kissing Jackie fervently. Returning his heated kisses she could barely breathe, she didn't want to. She would have rather died having the best make-out of her life with a negligent badass than let a tumor get the best of her. She smiled into the kiss by mistake at the thought of her tombstone reading something as gratuitous as that. Not a bad way to go at all…

"What? What is it?" Hyde asked, breathless and mildly curious.

She couldn't see him very well because of the darkness in the closet so she felt safe to let her smile turn into a frown. It really wasn't fair.

Shaking her head, she smiled again and pressed teasing kisses on the flesh near his ear and felt his hands tighten around her waist.

"Nothing." Jackie said finally. And half meant it, resuming her "session" with Hyde. A therapy she much rather preferred.

She felt Hyde pull back to look at her. It was eerie, how much she knew. She knew what he wanted to ask, why she was acting that way, why she was so different, if something was wrong, why she had changed drastically in two months time. But it wasn't in Hyde to care, especially about someone like Jackie. But was she Jackie? They both didn't know. So he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and kissed her more gently than before.

She hopped off of the sink and just felt something change. He was going to want answers.

She let him leave first, and stood for a long, long time in the reassuring darkness.

Jackie P.O.V.

I never planned on getting involved with him. Contrary to popular belief, dying didn't make me that heartless. If anything it gave me back the heart with a side order of sarcasm and a to-go bag of cynicism. It made me more normal, by standards. Nothing had changed from before to when I ran into him. Dying apparently agreed with me because besides from me a bit paler it gave me a kick-ass record intuition.

So when I ran into Hyde at the record store with a couple of Stones albums we immediately started talking.

I hadn't seen him walk in, but I didn't need to ask who was suddenly standing next to me, he smelt like the basement, pot, something sweet (I assumed popsicles) and something primitive like raw sexuality. I knew that even before I was dying. There was a reason that he got more action than Kelso.

He plucked the Stones album out of my hand and held it away from me.

"Have all those nail polish fumes finally gone to your head Jackers?" said sarcastically, of course, even then it didn't occur to me how close we were standing. "Abba and the My Little Pony collectibles are on the other side of the store." And he moved to put the record back.

Before he could, I snatched it back and examined it before I placed it under my arm and said, "Oh well then, lucky for you, killing two birds with one stone."

I wanted to impress, but at the same time I sorely didn't care which made me feel more cynical than ever. But what I said had struck him somehow. Perhaps that was the problem. I was changing in a somewhat good was for him, I was still a terrific piece of ass, I just had an improving music preference.

He walked alongside me on my way to the counter to pay, "Seriously Jackie, shouldn't you be bulling some old, defenseless person into buying think mints for prom or something?"

I turned and gave him a look before handing the cashier a 20 dollar bill from my back pocket. Hyde stared back, aloof as always, with a small hint of sneer (I still mildly disgusted him).

I took the bag from Rob, a disgruntled, pimply teen and turned to Hyde, "Like no way!" I half-yelled, putting my hands on my hips in full pep-squad stance before walking away, "I would never go near old people."

I still don't know, but I was sure I saw a ghost of a smile, but I suppose I'll never know.

He caught up with me and we both walked to the Hub. Not much was said, but when we left and he offered to drive me back to my house, or the basement, or whatever, we somehow made out in the El Camino parked in the Foreman's driveway. Which eventually led to the conveniently empty basement because let's face it, car seats are a bitch.

Nobody walked in on us making, but if they had they would have gotten an eyeful. I was straddling Hyde on the couch getting my hands on anything, his hands, arms, neck, back, fistfuls of hair. It was those callused hands of his that always drover me nuts when they spanned my back under my shirt.

When we simmered down nothing was really said. I stood up, handed hi his aviators he had casually thrown aside, and said an indifferent "Bye Hyde" to which he responded "cool"

Hyde was still Hyde and in his mind I was still Jackie. Nothing had changed and no feelings were certainly involved. Even if, I wouldn't let it, and any hopes he had, I was sure to dash purposely and inevitably.

Nothing had really processed of what had happened until the next day when I played my new album and a sudden urge for make-out time emerged. What I also didn't realize until later when I went home and changed my rumpled clothes was that I had immediately driven over to pay Hyde a surprise visit.

I blamed it on my sickness.

But then as I stood in the midst of the dark room with no excuse as to what questions Steven would ask I could do nothing but put my head in my hands, breathe deep, rake out the heated tangles, and walk outside.

As the light hurt my eyes I came upon a startling realization.

Did I refer to him as Steven?