15 March 1980
Point Place, Wisconsin
The Formans' Basement
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Early Saturday afternoon Hyde had awoken with the feeling that he had slept long enough. He languidly stretched in the cot, glancing around his old room in the basement. It was dark, small and neat, sparsely furnished and familiar, comforting. It reminded him of days gone by; lazy days when he'd lie in bed with a certain brown-eyed girl, doing nothing but touching, familiarising themselves with each other's body.
Hyde sat up and palmed his face with a yawn. He caught his reflection in the small mirror above the bureau and frowned. He looked tired and unkempt. His curly honey-coloured hair fell down his forehead and his moustache was awry. Even his eyebrows looked rough and tousled.
A chess game was neatly laid out on the table across from the cot, the game unfinished. Hyde stared at it, breathing heavily. A memory of Jackie sitting across from him surfaced: her leaning over the board with her dark hair parting like curtains as she moved her king's bishop to C4 with a smug smirk. A ghost of a grin passed over his lips at the recollection and vanished just as quickly.
He sat motionless with his palms turned upwards. He glanced down. He had never noticed it before but his hands seemed huge to him—wide palms with long thick fingers that were somehow proportionate. When he held them up to his face, he saw that they were scratched and bruised; the veins on the top were corded and swollen as though he had been grasping hard at something for a long time in his sleep. But they were still the same hands that would cup the back of Jackie's head when he would draw her in for a kiss, the same hands that would travel to her hips when he pulled her in to dance, the same hands that would freely roam the expanse of her body as she writhed beneath him.
Jackie.
Damn it all. More thoughts of Jackie.
Hyde rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hands with a groan. Fucking Jackie was inside his brain again. It was relentless; she was relentless, and she would never be dismissed. It didn't help that she was coming home today, staying in the same house with him. He wished he could avoid her, banish her from his thoughts and his heart, but he couldn't. He wasn't sure if he ever had.
It had been easier when Sam was around; thoughts of Jackie had been kept to a minimum. Sam had been easy, a welcomed distraction. With Sam in his lap and in his bed, he didn't have to worry about Jackie invading his thoughts. He didn't have to be constantly reminded of the smell of her hair as it fell across his chest or the feel of her skin against his as they made love or the sweet whimpering sounds she made as she lay naked beneath him.
But now the memories had come flooding back all at once. They were fleeting at first: them sitting together on his chair, feeling her comfortable weight in his lap; his hand on the back of her neck as her soft lips sought his. The sighs, the moans, the heated touches and sweet releases.
Then the memories became more specific...
Jackie turned on the record player, dancing slowly and steadily to Sweet Emotion. Eyes closed, she swayed her body in beat with the bass. Then she grabbed him by the hips and pulled him in close. His hands travelled down her back, cupping her ass as she ground her tight little body into his. Her mouth found his neck and he closed his eyes with a groan, moving to the rhythm she had created.
His hands slid up her back, then to her neck, seeking purchase in the silken weight of her hair. He pulled her head back so that he could have access to her throat. Soft whimpers escaped her mouth and he knew that before long he'd have her on her back on his cot, tasting her lips as her hands reached up under his shirt, scraping her nails along the hard planes of his chest and stomach. Then he'd stop and prop himself up on his forearms to watch her eyes flutter open, half-lidded with desire.
Swollen pink lips would part, an impatient tongue darting along her upper lip, and she'd smile at him coyly. He loved the way she smiled, loved the way she looked at him like he was her entire world. Then her fingers would end up tangled in his hair, tugging until it hurt, and she would laugh like wind chimes, turning his dark sky bright with her sunlight.
Hyde's palms ran the course of his face and he cursed silently, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. He sighed. These damn memories wouldn't leave him. She was haunting his waking thoughts like a curse.
Righting himself, he snatched his aviators from the nook and slipped them onto his face, feeling safer. He slid his hands down the length of his thighs and took a deep, steadying breath before rising to his feet.
It was time to get this shit over with.
He was showered and dressed within fifteen minutes, determined to leave the house as quickly as possible. Although starving, he would have to pick up something to eat on the way to the store.
Knowing Jackie and Red would show up at any moment, he planned his exit route through the kitchen, figuring Red would bring Jackie around front. Luckily Mrs Forman was on day-shift at the hospital so his escape would be quick, clean and easy.
Throwing on his boots, he grabbed his keys and jacket and made a beeline for the veranda door. Opening the door wide, he was about to step outside when he came face to face with a wide-eyed Jackie.
"Whoa," she breathed, leaping back. "Sorry about that."
She was dressed in dark jeans and a navy blue pea coat. It was the same outfit she had worn when he had told her to leave the basement; the same night her vehicle had careened into a tree, causing her to lose her memory.
He swallowed hard at the sight of her, his throat constricting almost painfully. His fingers trembled slightly on the door handle and he tried to convince himself that it was the cold that made him shake so, not this ghostly vision standing before him.
Jackie remained stationary at the door, a small pink suitcase gripped tightly in her hands. At least a foot or more separated them but to Hyde it only felt like mere centimetres. Her soft brown eyes were scanning his face, as though she was trying to register him from somewhere. Her breath crystallised in the air as she exhaled and her lips parted to speak, and that was when Red knocked his boots on the side of the porch and grunted.
"Steven."
"Yeah?" Lost in a daze, he caught Red's hard look and cleared his throat. "I mean, yes?"
"You gonna stand there all day with the door open, heating the damn driveway, or are you gonna step aside so that Jackie and I can come in?"
Hyde quickly snapped his mouth shut and stepped aside, mumbling a barely coherent apology.
Jackie entered first, her shoulder brushing against his chest as she made room for Red. She mouthed a quiet apology as Red barrelled inside, closing the door behind him. Almost tentatively, she raised her chin and glanced up at Hyde. Their eyes met for one heart-stopping second before she turned to Red, following his directions by taking off her boots.
"Where do you want me to put these?"
"In the living room," said Red with a jerk of his head, directing her to the swing-door he was already making his way through.
Hyde backed up to give her space but, as she made to move past him into the living room, they began an odd sort of dance—both going left together, then right. After a few awkward steps, they both stopped and exhaled in frustration.
"Excuse me," she said quietly, standing still so that he could move aside first.
Her head wasn't down like she was shy but she wasn't exactly looking him in the eye either. Her entire body language read differently than before, not quite demure but almost reserved and closed off. It unnerved him.
Finally, Hyde stepped aside and Jackie brushed past him, the skin of her bare hand grazing his as she moved. A barely audible gasp escaped her lips and she turned her head to meet his gaze, her eyes widening in shock. It was as though an electrical current had swept through them both.
Hyde was breathing heavily, his heart rattling against its cage. Thoughts of touching her stole over him all at once: his fingers grazing over her swollen lips, palms gliding over every inch of her delicate olive skin as his mouth found the tender spot on the pulse of her neck—
He shook his head at once, trying to wake himself from the torturous reverie. No, he had to put these thoughts out of his mind. He had to. Jackie wasn't his to touch anymore; she wasn't his to hold or kiss or think of in this way. Hell, she wasn't even really Jackie anymore.
"I gotta go," he said breezily enough, but his mind was still screaming.
She was too close, too tempting. He had to leave now. And like what he usually did when confronted by his feelings for Jackie, dormant or otherwise, Hyde fled.
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Later that afternoon Jackie was visited by Fez, who had offered to take her over to the apartment they once shared. She had been hesitant at first, not because she didn't trust Fez (well she might not have fully trusted him, but then she didn't really trust anyone) but because she wasn't entirely keen on revisiting her old life. At least not yet.
However, the foreigner had persuaded her that she could pick up some clothes. She had to admit that a larger selection of shirts and underwear other than what she had in her small pink suitcase would be nice. Of course, she could have gone shopping for new clothes at the mall, but she didn't want to chance being recognised and asked a lot of annoying questions. This was a small suburban town after all, so off to Fez's place she went.
"Jackie, my beautiful goddess," said Fez, opening the door to the small two-bedroom apartment with a flourish. "Welcome home!"
"Uh, thanks," she said, rubbing the ridge of her ear as she followed him inside.
Jackie was never quite sure how to respond to Fez's praises. He lauded her beauty quite often, as though it was commonplace, and she figured her old self was probably flattered. Her current self, however, was uncomfortable.
"So this is where I lived, huh?"
"Mhm. This is your bedroom right here." Fez opened the door and waved his hand around. "I kept it how you left it, except for Kelso's things over there." He pointed to the knapsack resting on a chair near the small desk.
Kelso himself wasn't there, thankfully. He was currently visiting with his parents but would return later that night. Yet another reason why Jackie couldn't stay in this apartment with Fez. It made her feel somewhat grateful for the Formans' offer.
Just then the phone rang and Fez promptly excused himself. She used this opportunity to enter the room unescorted, taking in the pink décor with a slight grimace. Donna was right: her old self really did like the colour pink.
She walked over to the bed, eyeing the stuffed animal collection with disdain. Did she really need that many plush toys? When she was young she must have gone through a 'I must collect a million stuffed animals and perch them on the end of my bed for obvious childish aesthetic purposes but alternatively convince any boy who enters my room that I am a raving unicorn-loving lunatic and creep him out, thereby reducing the contraction of cooties' phase. Or at least she hoped the latter was part of her former self's fetish reasoning. However, this didn't seem all that likely since Fez had clearly pointed out that this was her room only a short month ago. It was safe to say that this childish phase of her former life had not yet passed with adulthood. There was still a small flotilla of the creepiest, most reflective button-black-eyed unicorns and teddy bears sitting at the end of her erstwhile bed.
All too quickly, Jackie felt like fleeing the room and screaming in terror as she imagined pink and rainbow-dyed polyester chasing after her down the hall. Her planned flight from stuffed toy hell, however, was cut short by Fez.
"That was work," he announced, clasping his hands together in excitement. "Cindy and Suzi called in sick and the salon is short of stylists. The manager asked me to fill in. Depending on how well I do I might be promoted from shampoo boy to stylist extraordinaire!"
"Yay?"
"I know! Isn't it exciting?" He clapped, jumping up and down, before composing himself. "What am I going to wear?" He gave her a wistful yet sad smile. "I miss our catwalk fashion shows."
Jackie blinked twice. Had she heard him right? What exactly went on in this apartment and was this guy really her boyfriend?
"Right," she drawled. "Listen, if you could just tell me which bus to take back to the Formans', I'll be out of your hair."
"Jackie Burkhart taking a bus?" Fez scoffed, placing a hand on his hip. "No, we won't be having any of that. I can take you back or—" A light bulb seemed to switch on above his head. "Hey, would you like to come to the salon with me? You can see a bit of the town, do some shopping and, whenever you're bored, I can call Eric or Kelso to pick you up and take you back to the Formans'."
Jackie considered the idea. It would be nice to get out. She had spent so much time cooped up indoors. "Sure, why not?"
"Fabulous." He clapped his hands together. "You're in for a real treat. You get to watch my magic fingers in action." He then used those magic fingers to shoo her back into her old room. "Now why don't you pack some clothes while I get ready? Ai! So much to do, so little time!"
Jackie heard his door shut and she turned towards her closet with a sigh. "Great. I'll just do that, then."
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Jackie had spent a record three whole minutes with Fez at the salon. She had forgot that he had once mentioned she worked there with him as a hair sweeper, so when they walked in the door her anxiety had instantly mounted. Her unease wasn't necessarily a result of being reminded of once holding a menial position (okay, it played a relatively big part) but because there were people here who knew who she was and were asking her questions—invasive questions. Those who weren't trying their best to pry or prod information from her were giving her long looks of sympathy. She couldn't deal with their pity or hollow, meaningless words, so she decided to extract herself from her current situation. This, of course, meant fleeing the salon.
Perhaps returning to Point Place hadn't been such a good idea after all.
After swiftly excusing herself, Jackie toured the street of small shops, peeking in at the numerous boutiques. She went into some but avoided those that were crowded. She eventually stopped at a bookstore and picked up a copy of Sophie's Choice before stepping back out onto the snowy pavement.
She wondered where to go next. She didn't feel like returning to the salon or the Formans' yet, but she didn't know where to go or what to do in this unfamiliar town. So she slowly strolled along Main Street, barely noticing the cars and buses that snored past her.
She could feel a headache coming on and reached into her coat pocket for her Percocet. After a moment's thought, she shoved them back into her pocket, deciding that this new-forming headache was merely brought on by the stress of being lost and set loose in unfamiliar territory. All she needed to do was find a quiet warm place where she could sit down and relax with her book and then the headache would eventually ebb away along with the stress.
After travelling another block, Jackie found herself standing in front of a music store called Grooves. She shrugged and decided why not—listening to some music might settle her down a bit. Besides, she needed to expand on her record collection.
Pushing her way through the doors, Jackie took in the décor of the place. It was obviously a hard rock-oriented music shop, what with an entire wall dedicated to Led Zeppelin. But it was stylish and somewhat modern and it held the faint and nostalgic aroma of incense. In the middle of the store was a pit with a table, sofa and a few loveseats for lounging. She had to admit that the place was rather inviting, even with the acid rock of AC/DC playing in the background just low enough not to wholly distract.
"Hey, what's the devil doing here?"
Jackie spun to her left, coming face-to-face with a grinning Eric Forman. She lifted an eyebrow in surprise, not just at his sudden appearance, but how he had addressed her.
"Devil?" she repeated.
"Sorry, force of habit." He shrugged sheepishly and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Devil was my nickname for you."
"I see." She didn't bother pondering why she would be given such a notorious nickname. Instead, she tilted her head back and examined the lanky young man standing before her. "And what did I call you?"
"Me?" Twitchy. Scrawny Geek Boy. Star Wars Freak. "You called me The Kid."
"The Kid?"
"Yeah, The Kid." He squirmed under her intense scrutiny. "That's what you called me."
She scrunched up her nose in mild distaste before slowly shaking her head. "Yeah, I'm not calling you The Kid."
"Dammit!"
Jackie's lips twitched into a smirk and she turned at the imperceptible movement coming from the far end of the store. Her mouth dropped open at the sight of the man she had previously seen that afternoon at the Formans'. He was standing over the bins with his head down, poring over record albums before ticking his pen on the clipboard he held in his other hand.
Swiftly snapping her mouth shut, Jackie tried to avert her eyes but they were somehow drawn back to him like a magnet. She let her gaze drift over his form for a moment. He was wearing jeans and a pale yellow KISS t-shirt that accentuated the broad planes of his chest and moulded over the taut muscles of his abdomen. He looked like a band roadie—a fit band roadie, but a band roadie nonetheless.
A pair of amber aviators shielded his eyes, preventing her from seeing their colour and depth. She had a feeling he had deep eyes, the kind that could pierce through her soul. Shaking her head, Jackie tried to escape the ridiculous fantasy she was painting, but it was a futile effort. Her gaze instinctively returned to him, surreptitiously scanning his features and centring on his nose, watching how his nostrils gently flared as he breathed.
He had a boyish face, despite the long scruffy sideburns and the porn 'stache that he could have done without. However, what really captured Jackie's attention, aside from the mysterious draw of his eyes, was his curly honey-coloured hair. It looked incredibly soft to the touch and she wanted nothing more than to spear her fingers through it and test how soft it truly was.
It was a powerful attraction Jackie felt for him in this moment; one without precedent in her life. This didn't strike her as particularly odd: she had less than three weeks of life under her belt thanks to her amnesia. But it wasn't like she hadn't seen any men in that tune. She'd seen a lot of doctors and quite a few of them had been handsome and intelligent, yet not one of them had piqued her interest like this scruffy young man who hadn't even spoken a word to her.
Something inside Jackie told her that this guy was special, someone she could trust, yet someone she should also fear.
"Hey." Eric caught Jackie eyeing Hyde and pointed back and forth between the two of them. "Do you recognise him?"
She turned back to Eric, her eyes widening slightly in alarm. "Him? What? No!" She quickly placed her hands on her hips as she tried to think of a way to change the topic of conversation. "I just saw him at your parents' place this morning, that's all. Is he like your brother or something?"
"Hyde?" Eric shrugged. "Well, I guess you could say he's my foster brother. He lives with me."
"Hyde?" Jackie dropped her arms to her sides. "But at the house, your dad called him Steven."
"Yeah, Steven Hyde," said Eric, and then a look of revelation washed over his face. "Wait, does that name mean something to you?"
"Uhm, no, not really..." Jackie paused, trying to keep her external cool. She didn't want to share anything she didn't have to. She didn't like the thought of leaving herself vulnerable. However, Eric seemed like a nice enough guy who wouldn't try to take advantage of her state, and there was no reason for her to hide this information. What did it mean to her? "It's just that Donna told me it was Hyde who sat with me when I woke up."
"Oh." He looked gobsmacked for a moment. "Well, do you remember him—at the hospital, I mean? Do you remember seeing him there?"
"No, I was really out of it when I woke up," she said. "I couldn't really see anything."
But there was this feeling—his touch, his presence, his voice. Those tactile memories still assailed her, which was why she had almost asked him who he was when she first met him at the Formans'. But now Jackie was about to turn around and leave, making a beeline for the exit like Hyde had earlier that afternoon, when the man in question glanced up and saw her, his features curling open in surprise.
"Jackie?"
If Jackie could see his eyes underneath his sunglasses, she'd surmise he was probably sporting a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression.
Earlier that afternoon he had avoided her eye, but she had caught it in that brief moment they had brushed hands. He had been giving her that stare, the kind that only men could give—laser-hot and intense and focused on the most obvious spots. She couldn't blame him really because he was a guy and guy was basically a synonym for pervert. At least he had been discreet about it. It was a courtesy she hadn't received from Kelso or Fez.
But now the look was different, it was that of a man trying to gleam insight into himself through her eyes. And though she couldn't clearly see his gaze beneath his aviators, Jackie knew that Hyde was studying her—studying her face, her stance, the way she lightly feathered her fingers over the fine hairs across her temple. He was reading her like a book he had read a hundred times over, knowing every page, every line by heart, and damn it all that she somehow knew this about him.
What was she to him?
What was he to her?
Hyde walked over to her then, his eyes subtly scanning her body. She shuddered slightly under his scrutiny, much like she had in that brief half-second their hands had touched in the kitchen. Her emotional reaction to him then had been so sudden, so hot and completely unexpected that her mind had simply floundered. And now her brain was doing the same thing again and they hadn't even touched.
She had no idea how to cope with this unexpected burst of fireworks in her heart. For a moment she was like a transmission that had suddenly popped out of gear and into neutral. Although the engine was revving like crazy, nothing was happening. Then the clutch re-engaged and the transmission slipped smoothly back into place. She could speak again.
"Hey." Jackie placed a hand on her hip while gesturing her palm upwards with the other. "Hyde, right?"
He glanced over at Eric, a somewhat sour expression twisting on his lips, before turning back to her with a curt nod. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "So what are you doing here?"
"Oh, you know." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Hunting elephants."
He openly gaped at her for a moment, and then his lips curved into an amused smirk. "That's cool. Most people come in here looking for records and such."
"In a music store? Pfft." She tsked in faux disgust, before folding her arms beneath her breasts, causing them to jut out and capture his attention. "When will people learn?"
This time she was sure she heard a soft chortle from him as his tongue pushed against his front teeth. Now she was smiling, too, grinning like a fool for this stranger. God, why did it make her happy to hear him laugh? Was this flirting? Was she flirting with him?
"Hey, so how did you get here?" asked Eric, fortunately derailing her disturbing train of thought. "Red drop you off?"
"No, Fez brought me here. He had to work a shift at the salon, so I thought I'd take a look around town." She held up her copy of Sophie's Choice. "Bought a book, saw the store here and thought I'd restock my record collection."
"What, need more ABBA?" Hyde's tone was mocking, but instead of being insulted by it, Jackie decided to ignore it.
"Maybe." She shrugged. "No, I actually have no idea what to buy. I don't really have a preference at this point; however, I pretty much dig anything with a good beat and bass line."
"Really?" Hyde's right eyebrow peaked above his aviators. "Would you like me to direct you to the Aerosmith section or The Clash or maybe some Led Zeppelin?"
"Jackie listening to The Clash and Zeppelin?" Eric snickered with laughter and Jackie felt the sudden urge to kick him in the shin. She quickly dismissed this idea and smacked him in the arm instead.
"Shut up, Eric."
He stood up straight and stared at her, flabbergasted, and Hyde openly smirked.
"Yeah, what she said." He then jerked his thumb towards the bins. "Whatever, man, feel free to look around. There's some headphones over there if you want to listen to some tracks."
Jackie felt a smile creep onto her lips but halted it, nodding almost shyly. What the hell was wrong with her? But Hyde didn't even see her reaction as he had already turned away, resuming his inventory without speaking another word.
"Hey, whenever you're ready, I can take you back to the house," offered Eric, and this time Jackie allowed herself to smile.
"That's cool." He looked at her askance, causing her to knit her brow in confusion. "What?"
"It's just—" He looked over at Hyde and then back to Jackie before waving his hand. "Nothing. Never mind."
Even if she had wanted to probe further, she couldn't. Eric had already been called over to the cash register to ring up a customer. So Jackie went about her business, browsing the records and pretending to be interested when all she wanted to do was watch Hyde.
She stole another glance at him through the corner of her eye, watching how he absorbed himself in his work. Threading her bottom lip with her teeth, she frowned. So this was the guy who sat with her in the hospital? This was the guy she'd be living with at the Formans'?
She followed his movements, observing his casual stride and his confident manner. He was a man comfortable in his own skin, not remotely afraid of the world around him. She envied that, envied him. Then her gaze shifted to the sinewy muscles of his arms as he lifted a crate and began stocking, noting how his biceps and shoulders flexed with the effort. Her eyes travelled over to the mecca of his chest, following the hard planes of his body that shifted and rolled as he moved.
God, why was she fixating on him?
There was just something about him, something that drew her eye and made her want to stare at him until he felt her gaze and was forced to turn and meet her. She wanted to take those damn sunglasses off him; she wanted to see those eyes of his, to see them vulnerable and exposed. But another, smaller part of her didn't want that—the quiet part that was afraid of him, afraid of what he could make her feel.
As if right on cue, Hyde glanced up and met Jackie's gaze with a blank look. She quickly turned away, busying herself with records as she tried to hide her blushing cheeks.
Yeah, this wasn't awkward. This wasn't awkward at all.
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