Disclaimer: I don't own.

Warning: Language

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that I've been bad about updating. Life has sucked lately. Hopefully things are getting better and I can write more. Thank you SO much to those of you reading and especially to those of you reviewing! Hope you enjoy this story!

What He Is

What he is....

Is a jerk.

If there was anything Jackie Burkhart was used to, it was jerks. Everyone in her life was a jerk. Her parents were jerks for leaving her all the time, for cheating on one another, for just about everything they did. Her household staff were jerks for demanding payment and leaving when she couldn't provide it. One of her ex-boyfriends was a jerk for cheating on her, repeatedly. Another ex-boyfriend was a jerk for turning gay after failing to give her the night of her dreams he'd long promised. The worst ex-boyfriend was a jerk for marrying a whore instead of her. Her best friend was a jerk for choosing said ex's whore of a wife over her.

Jackie knew and understood jerks. After all, she was a jerk, too. She knew it. And admitted it.

So when Steven acted like a complete jerk the other night, she wasn't surprised. Though him knocking over the table was a bit startling. He could be violent, she knew, but only with other guys. He'd never done anything like that when it was just the two of them.

She told herself it was because he was drunk. Or maybe because he'd realized what a bitchwhore he'd hooked up with.

The next few days she made herself scarce. She was busy with school, anyhow. No one called to see where she was, and she tried not to let it disappoint her. And there was good results. She'd aced the tests she'd spent her basement-free time studying for.

But she thought of Steven, and that night. How at moments, she'd seen somethihng other than disdain in his eyes. Regret, maybe. Love, she wondered. Most likely just lust, but still. It was something other than the nothing she'd seen there since Chicago.

She couldn't stand the nothing.

And the possibility of even just lust in his eyes, in his body for her kept her thinking of him all the time.

She'd gone to the bar and seen him sitting there alone, drinking a beer, likely more than one. Probably waiting for Joni. He'd looked so small at that long bar, and jerk or not, seeing him look that tiny hurt her. Steven wasn't small. He was Steven, strong, big, tough.

This was Joni's doing, Joni's fault. Jackie knew that. And it bothered her, though she preferred to ignore the reason why it did.

No one else was going to do anything. They all thought Joni was meant for Steven. That much was clear. They wouldn't do a damn thing.

So she would. Joni thought she was nothing but a spoiled princess.

Not anymore.

What he is...

Is in trouble

Jackie Burkhart's carefully planned and rehearsed attack on the bitchwhore disappeared from her brain the second she sat down next to said bitchwhore in that gross bar. It didn't help that she hardly acknowledged her presence. Or that the bartender smiled at her and treated her as if she was something special. Idiot.

"You gonna say something, Princess?"

Jackie grimaced. "That accent is stupid. Can't you speak normally?"

The bitchwhore rolled her eyes. "Fine. This normal enough for you?"

Jackie sighed and looked at the beer she'd ordered and hadn't touched. Her mind was foggy. Probably because the so-called girl next to her exuded some sort of dirty, disgusting, completley unfeminine fog. She cleared her throat. She had to fight through it. For Steven. "Look, Joni," she started. "No one else will say this..."

"But you will, right?"

She glared at the bitchwhore. "Yes. I will. You need to stay away from Steven." Joni didn't say anything but kept her ugly eyes on Jackie, and Jackie sat up straighter. She brushed her hair over her shoulder. "See, no one likes you. Not even Steven really likes you."

Joni raised an unkempt eyebrow. "Like you know how that guy feels."

It bothered Jackie that the bitchwhore so rarely called Steven by even his last name. She sat up straighter. "I so know how he feels. He can't fool me with that stupid Zen of his."

"Right. Because you two were so much in love."

"We were!" Her hands shook and she flattened them on the bar. And she told herself to just ignore the disgust in her stomach because the stickiness she was touching. "Look, you treat him like crap, and as much of an ass as he is, even he doesn't deserve it." She closed her eyes and looked down at her lap.

And as always, the memories of sweet Steven, her Steven, the real Steven, washed over her with the intent of the ocean at high tide.

She was speaking, she knew that. Saying things about Steven, of course. But what exactly she was saying, she didn't know, because she was remembering, and that always left her in some place other than where she was. Somewhere high and unreachable, but somewhere full of the sweetest colors and sensations she'd ever known. In a place where he still protected her, and listened to her, and ran his fingers through her hair, brushed tears off her cheek. And where he still gave her that sweet half-smile while she did or said something to someone else. Where he still rolled his eyes, but told her he loved her and danced with her at her mother's stupid country club and took her to drive ins only to use all his energy to get her out of her panties.

The place she'd once considered an unexpected heaven.

Joni's bitchwhorey voice broke the spell.

"Huh. You make him sound like Prince Charming. Guess I'm a lucky girl. I better hang on to him, eh Princess?"

Jackie panicked. She had to change tactics and fast, otherwise this was all for naught. "What? No. No, no, no! You're not....I mean, come on, Joni." She laughed. "He's a horrible boyfriend. You already know that he's cheap. He's also impolite, poor, dirty...." She ticked off all of Steven's worst traits on her fingers. "Plus he's unromantic and rude, and he'll never write you a song or buy you a horse, or even have your name written in the sky! You deserve someone who will do that. Can't you see it? A big JONI in the sky?"

Joni held up a hand. "Alright, whatever, Princess." She took a swig of her beer. "Look, I get what you're saying." She shrugged. "I already broke up with the bastard."

She started mumbling something that Jackie couldn't quite figure out, but it didn't matter. "Oh good," she said, breathing much easier. She smiled down at the disgusting bar top. "I really think it'll be better for everyone. I mean, you don't exactly fit in with our group. Donna hates that you call her Blondie. Michael…well, Michael doesn't think you're hot. At all. And he has good taste in women. Or at least he used to. I'm not sure about now since the whole Fez thing. Eric…well, he's just scared of you."

Jackie stopped speaking and glanced at the bitchwhore. Her heart caught, much to her dismay. The bitchwhore was looking down into her glass, the way Jackie'd seen Steven do on occasion after ranting about his parents. No, she told herself, tightening her stomach to steel her resolve. No. There's nothing in Joni to feel sorry for. Nothing. She's just…a bitchwhore.

Of course, she'd once thought similarly about Steven, and she'd been wrong.

She wasn't wrong this time, she insisted to herself. Not about this stupid girl. Stupid and ugly.

Joni looked up and gave a sneer that reiterated Jackie's thoughts. "Whatcha looking at? And why the hell are you still talking to me? Get away from me before you contaminate me with some shallow disease."

Jackie smiled her prettiest smile. "Gladly, loser," she said. She couldn't resist it. Steven may be a lot of things, but he wasn't a loser, and she'd heard Joni call him that too many times. "Enjoy your lonely, lonely beer. Oh, and maybe you can pick up that guy over there." She pointed to a fat and sloppy, bald guy sitting in the corner. "He looks like your type."

With that, she flounced away with a hair toss for good measure.

But something, likely the prickle in her neck, made her stop at the door and turn back. Joni was looking at her, giving her a smile that made Jackie's skin crawl. When the bitchwhore raised the beer glass, still with the smirk that left Jackie wondering if she'd really accomplished anything, she turned and left the bar. She watched the ground start to fly as she moved faster.

"She's not going to be easy to get rid of," she muttered.

"Who's not going to be easy to get rid of?"

She gasped and stopped, and there was Steven. For a few seconds, she stood there, her mouth open and her hand clutching her silk blouse at the middle of her chest. The wrinkles she was making didn't seem to matter. He was grinning at her, that stupid smart-ass one of his that even now, to her dismay, made her knees weak.

"Uh…Oh, Steven, I'm glad you're here," she said loudly. "I was looking for you. I need you to…to…" What had she made him do recently? What could she convince him, stubborn ass, to do again? "Oh! My car is making that noise again." She put her hand on his chest. What the hell? It used to work. "Can you look at it for me? I mean, you wouldn't want to be responsible for me dying in a fiery crash."

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

"Steven!" She swatted at him, then pouted. "Please?"

He rolled his eyes, looked over her shoulder towards the bar. "Can't it wait? I have plans."

She frowned. "Plans? What plans? To get drunk?" She stepped closer to him. "Why do you need to get drunk?"

"Because its Tuesday," he said flatly.

She pouted again, and this time, his eyes locked on hers. "Please?" she said softly.

With a heavy sigh, he gave in. "Fine. If you buy me a couple six packs first."

"Great!" A few six packs wasn't that big of a deal. Better than him going into that bar and letting that bitchwhore skankify him even more than she'd already done. She linked her arm through his and pulled him away from the walk to the bar. "Now, lets take it over to the Forman's house since Red has all those tools and he likes it when you use them."

She didn't give him a chance to back out, to protest leaving his own car parked on the street.

And she didn't even have to push him into the driver's seat.

Progress, she told herself.

She didn't think so later on, when Steven collapsed on his cot in the basement completely plastered. She stood in the doorway and shook her head. She'd barely managed to get him downstairs before Red caught him so drunk his eyes were beer colored.

"Why do I bother, Steven?" she said, more to herself than him.

He lifted his head and gave her a drunken grin. "'Cause I'm the best you ever had," he slurred. "You told me I gave you the most earth shattering orga…"

"Okay! Whatever!" she cried, not wanting to revisit that fact. Steven didn't answer, and his head fell back down to the pillow, face first. She went to him and gently turned his head to it rested on its side.

Why the hell she cared so much, still, after everything….why the hell she thought she more than likely still loved him…She didn't know.

She watched him, and realized that he'd been drinking a lot lately. Not just since Joni, but since before. Since…

Her eyes closed. The name still hurt so much, even to think.

Sam. Since even before Sam left.

Maybe he was in more trouble than she'd been thinking.