Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

ONE DIFFERENCE:
HYDE GOES TO KELSO'S ICE SHACK

Part I

Hyde stuffed a bagel spread with peanut butter into his coat pocket. Breakfast. He had the morning shift at the Fotohut ahead of him, not to mention a cold walk—from a place he couldn't quite call home. Bud's apartment, where generic-brand food filled the open kitchen and cockroaches lived in the baseboards. Hyde stomped on one of the critters now, another squashed corpse.

The oak flooring was dotted with black spots. Scraping them off would be a waste of time. He needed to hire an exterminator, but that cost dough he didn't have. At least the apartment had heat in the winter … heat, but no warmth, just like his mind. It was branded with the mark of Jackie's kiss. The shape of her mouth had seared his thoughts. Each day, the memory of her lips, their softness, their insistence burned holes in his brain.

One kiss, man, had done him in.

The living room walls rattled with Bud's heavy snoring. He'd come back late last night and crashed on the couch. Hyde crept past him but considered slamming the front door on his way out. Betting slips from Kenosha OTB lay ripped on the floor. They confirmed a suspicion Hyde had kept to himself for weeks: the man he couldn't quite call "Dad" had a gambling addiction.

Hyde let Bud continue to sleep. Dealing with this crap would have to wait. He closed the front door quietly, but his descent to the lobby echoed in the stairwells. His boots stomped down forty-two stairs, all but one representing Bud's lying face. The last he saved for Jackie, wishing like hell he could smash her out of his skull.

Outside, mottled chunks of snow lined the sidewalks. Most had melted during the last few days, and car exhaust had blanketed the rest. Hyde headed east on Pine Street. The Fotohut was a good twenty minutes away. He could've taken the bus, but he'd never been a bus kind of guy. Being stuck in a tin can with screaming kids and nose-picking slobs? Not for him.

He passed by the losers waiting at the nearest stop. Old men mingled with slump-shouldered women while middle-schoolers played tag. He was almost free of the scene when someone jumped out at him. Hands gripped his shoulders, but he shoved his palms into his attacker's chest, sending the guy backward.

"Ai!" The attacker didn't approach again, and Hyde got a chance to look at him.

"Shit—Fez? What're you doing, man?"

Fez rubbed his chest where Hyde had struck him. "Kelso has a master plan, and we have to hurry!"

"Kelso has a master-what?"

"A master plan. Don't you understand English?" Fez stepped closer. He had on a backpack, a corduroy jacket, and a thick cotton shirt was layered over a red turtleneck. He was dressed for temperatures colder than the weather report indicated. "I called Jackie yesterday for some late-night chit-chat, and apparently Kelso has invited 'all of us' to his uncle's fabulous cabin in the woods." He reached out to grab Hyde's coat then seemed to change his mind. He grasped the straps of his own backpack instead. "It has a hot tub, Hyde. A hot tub!"

"So?" Hyde had to get to work, not that Leo would care if he were late. But working kept his mind from rabbit holes it couldn't clamber out of, like the one it was falling into now. "Wait a sec—what do you mean Kelso 'invited all of us'?"

Fez nodded. "That's what I'm saying! He did not invite all of us. He's tricked Jackie into joining him on a romantic getaway—a romantic getaway she does not want to be part of!"

Hyde rubbed the nape of his neck until it burned. The idea of Jackie trapped with Kelso in some cabin set him on edge, but maybe that was where she wanted to be. Pursuing Hyde had merely been a distraction for her. They'd exchanged two words in as many months with each other. She'd made his life hell then left him there to boil. To her, their kiss might as well have been vapor.

"She can fend for herself," he said and started down Pine Street again, but Fez grabbed ahold of his arm. "Fez, you got two seconds to let me go—"

"No, you must come with me. We have to stop Kelso's foul deed."

"Every time she breaks up with him, she takes him back. Why should this time be any different?"

"She's confused and vulnerable." Fez tugged on Hyde's arm. "We must go this way if we're going to intersect his van."

"Look, man, if you wanna get tangled up in all that..." Hyde tore himself free of Fez's grip, "be my guest. But she'll roll you like a pair of dice then kick you into the gutter once the game's over."

"Oh, how I'd love to be kicked by her glorious foot, but you have not spoken to her lately. Yes, she is a spoiled and whiny princess, but she also believes she must settle for a deceptive, cheating court jester."

Jackie cornered by Kelso, emotionally, physically … Hyde shut his eyes against a sinking sensation. He tried to rally his mind to rebel, but it had already gone rogue. It spat out a confession he'd spent months suppressing.

He was in love with her.

But he didn't do love. That was his motto, and he opened his eyes. Despite her previous behavior and declarations, she felt nothing for him. Interfering in her business would get him exactly that—nothing.

"Cabin's in the woods?" he said.

"Yes," Fez said.

Hyde glanced down at his plaid wool coat. Underneath it, he had on only a cotton shirt. "I gotta get a sweater—"

"There's no time—wait. Does this mean you're going with me?"

"Yeah, but only as an observer."

"Great. Let's go!"

Fez raced west on Pine Street, but Hyde followed him at a slower pace. "I gotta call Leo," he said, "and tell him I'm taking a sick day—"

"We'll make Kelso pull over, and you can use a payphone. First we have to catch the magnificent bastard."

"Right."

Hyde quickened his pace, and on Pickett Avenue, he and Fez spotted Kelso's dented, 1965 Dodge A-100. The van was moving at a decent clip, but traffic kept them from losing it. Hyde's chest hurt from running, and Fez gasped beside him, but after speeding through five green lights, the van got held up by a sixth on Hazen Street.

"The back, man. The back!" Hyde pointed to the gap left by the van's missing back door. Kelso had covered it with a plastic tarp, but it provided easy access. Hyde and Fez squeezed in front of a mustard-yellow Ford Capri, pushed the plastic tarp aside, and climbed onto the van.

Fez charged to the front while Hyde stayed behind, catching his breath and assessing the situation. Kelso was at the wheel, and Donna and Forman were with him. Their presence here made some sense. They were Kelso's safety net, only this net was designed for trapping Jackie.

"What are you doing?" Fez shouted at Kelso. "We chased you for six blocks!"

Hyde approached the front slowly as Kelso said, "I'm sorry, buddy. I didn't see you."

"Yeah, nice try." Fez's chest visibly rose and fell with his panting breath. He needed a rest, but he probably wouldn't take one until Kelso admitted the truth. "We know all about your master plan. Now drive, you sneaky sonuvabitch!"

Forman glanced over his shoulder at Hyde, but Hyde merely shrugged. His motive for being here was private. Playing poker involved a lot of bluffing, and the player with the best hand wouldn't necessarily win the pot. He didn't expect to win anything for himself today. He was playing for Jackie, to keep her from ending up with someone like Bud.

Two outfits lay on Jackie's bed. The first was too sexy for winter, and the second was cute but utterly casual—aloof one might call it. Neither was particularly appropriate for the cold woods, but she refused to hide her body in a thick sweater. Both outfits called attention to themselves, and she very much desired attention today.

If she wore her long-sleeved but short-skirted dress, she could show off her legs in a pair of knee-high boots. Michael would be all over her, a boost for her ego but exhausting. Just the idea of being touched by him sent ripples of disgust over her skin. He didn't truly want her back. Otherwise, he would've become celibate instead of dating Laurie, the woman he'd cheated on her with. Jackie had no intentions of becoming his mistress. Or, worse, one of many mistresses.

That last thought made her shudder. No, Michael wasn't her target. She needed to draw another pair of eyes to herself: Steven Hyde's. He would be on this trip, and she intended to seize the opportunity. They'd barely spoken to each other since their date, but she understood why. It was a consequence of their kiss.

His lips and tongue had set her body on fire that night but not her heart. She'd expected to be swept away to a magical place, one where she was a princess and Steven was her beer-swilling knight. But the kiss stirred no emotion in her. Absolutely none … until a few days later. She awoke in her bed with a distinct tingling at the corners of her mouth. Her first consciously inhaled breath had entered shakily, and her blood throbbed in every corner of her body.

That morning, Steven had shared the bed with her. Not physically, not actually, but her latent emotions had conjured up a sense of him. She gripped her pillow as pressure built behind her eyes. He'd protected her, taught her how to protect herself, run gentle fingers through her hair. His face had a playfulness she could stare at endlessly, but he felt nothing for her, not personally.

Her chest tightened now the same as it had then. That morning had been the first of a frustrating many. He was no longer a knight but simply Steven. Her feelings for him were gritty, like dirt beneath her otherwise pristine fingernails. No matter how she washed her hands, her nails were stained.

"This outfit, definitely," she said and held up a button-down fleece shirt. Its blue-gray color would pair nicely with her red, floppy turtleneck. The outfit was warmer than the first, and it wouldn't send any unintended messages. If Michael wanted her body, he'd have to prove himself worthy of her heart.

Her breath hitched as an idea burst into her brain. Perhaps Michael's intention today was to sweep her off her feet. Maybe he'd finally dumped Laurie and wanted to make a grand gesture. Jackie twirled toward her vanity, with her red turtleneck pressed against her body. Michael was sure to proclaim his love for her on this trip, surrounded by a winter wonderland and all their friends.

Including Steven.

Would he care if she took Michael back? Probably not. Would he care what outfit she wore? Unlikely. Anything she tried to communicate visually would fall on blind eyes. Michael was her best chance at happiness, as flawed as he was. All he had to do was change himself completely.

She got dressed in front of her vanity mirror. The jeans she wore hugged her body perhaps a little too well, and a vision invaded her senses. Steven's hands slid over her butt. They were imaginary, yet her body responded as if his physical presence were real. The warmth of his palms, the intensity of his eyes, caused her to sweat.

"Not now," she whispered. "Not him." She forced Michael to take his place in the vision, and grief overwhelmed her. Michael's betrayal remained submerged in her blood, despite the months that had passed. Maybe it would always be there, circulating.

Twenty minutes later, after her makeup was perfectly applied, Michael's van arrived. He was later than she'd anticipated. He'd probably stopped to play with some stray dogs, but that had given her time. She'd needed to remove all traces of tears from her face. Downstairs, she put on her white ski jacket with its ice-blue chevron pattern. Her mother kissed her on the forehead and told her to have fun, but fun was not on Jackie's agenda.

Outside on the driveway, Michael and Fez were shoving each other. They stopped once her footsteps crunched on the gravel. "Your coach has arrived," Michael said and extended his hand toward her.

Fez slapped his hand away. "It's a rusty old van, not a coach, you idiot!"

"My van is an elegant lady on wheels! Now apologize."

"Jackie," Fez said, ignoring him, "may I escort you onto Kelso's rusty old van?"

He offered her his arm like a gentleman, and she took it. Then he opened the van's side door, and her throat thickened. Inside, Steven was playing cards with Donna and Eric. His lips lifted into a smirk as he revealed his hand. "Read 'em and weep, losers. I got a pair of threes, Jack high."

"Damn it!" Eric said. "I could've sworn you had something better." He picked up his face-down cards and stared at them. "I had two pair."

"Shouldn't have folded, Forman." Steven took Eric and Donna's cards and mixed them back into the deck. "Better luck next time."

Jackie used Fez's arm as a support as she stepped into the van. He shut the door behind them, and she said, "Hello, everyone. Your reason for waking up in the morning has arrived."

"Hi, Jackie," Donna said. "You might want to know—"

"No," Eric grasped Donna's hands, "the only thing she has to know is that you're my reason for waking up in the morning."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Donna pecked Eric on the lips, and Jackie scrunched her face. Sweetheart? The word sounded foreign coming from Donna's mouth. "But, Jackie," she said, "Kelso has—"

"Gotten into the driver's seat!" Michael started up the van and blasted the radio. "All right, let's get this trip started! Jackie, wanna join me up front?"

Jackie peered down at Steven, but his gaze remained on the deck of cards. His scruffy curls obscured his face. His legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles. He was as relaxed as a boy could be and infuriatingly unaffected by her presence.

"Hello, Steven," she said but didn't wait for a response. She went to the front of the van with Fez, who sat on the hump between the driver's and passenger seat. "Thank you, Fez."

Michael turned down the radio. "What're you thanking him for?"

"Being nice." Jackie sat in the passenger seat and crossed her arms over her chest. An ache was hollowing out her heart. She pressed her knees together, too, to crush the growing need between her thighs. Steven's proximity was having an unsettling effect on her. "So, Michael, how long is this trip going to take?"

"About an hour-and-a-half, so sit back, relax, and soon we'll be in my uncle's luxurious cabin—and you'll be thanking me."

"It better be luxurious," she said.

He grinned at her. "Oh, it is." Then he drove them off her family's property.

Both Michael and Fez tried to capture her attention once they were on the highway. They played a game where they called out adjectives describing her. Each word had to start with the last letter of the one before it. So after Michael said, "Beautiful!" Fez said, "Lovely!" and Michael said, "Yummy." Then Fez said, "Yottotekex," which apparently meant "sweet laughter" in his native tongue.

"Hey, no fair!" Michael said. "That's two words!"

"Not in my language," Fez said. "It's not my fault your language is so inefficient."

"Well, what am I supposed to say for X?"

"In my language," Fez reached for Jackie's hand, and she let him take it, "I have many words to describe Jackie that start with the letter X."

"Like Kelso's ex-girlfriend?" Steven said, and Jackie flung Fez's hand away from her. Steven had crept to the front without her noticing.

"No, that word starts with J," Fez said.

Jackie's chair pushed into her slightly as Steven laughed. His weight was pressed into the back of her seat, but she kept her gaze on the windshield, on the cars driving ahead of them."'J' for Jackie," he said. "So the word for 'ex-girlfriend' in your language is the name of Kelso's ex-girlfriend. Works out nicely."

Michael responded with something she didn't quite register. Blood was roaring in her ears, incited by a furious pulse. The urge to peer back at Steven was growing. Her eyes could take only so much gray highway. The spots of color cars added weren't enough to distract her.

"Then maybe you should play this game about your actual girlfriend," Steven said, clearly reply to whatever Michael had said.

"No, you shouldn't!" Eric shouted from the back. "Leave my sister out of this."

Jackie finally turned her head but toward Michael. "Yes, how is your 'relationship' with Laurie these days? Whorey as usual?"

Steven shifted his position. His weight disappeared from her back, but his fingers slid over the top of her chair. They had the barest contact with her shoulders, but her stomach became jumpy, as if her cheer squad were holding practice there.

"Today's not about Laurie," Michael said. "She's, like, ancient history."

"Yeah, real ancient," Steven said. "Had to leave the basement on Wednesday night 'cause you were slobbering all over her."

"Wha—but that was three days ago! A lot can happen in three days, Hyde."

"You were sloppy-kissing Laurie?" Jackie struck Michael's arm, and the van swerved slightly. Sloppy kisses were the worst kind of kisses, and Michael was an expert at them.

"Yup, he was," Steven said, and her self-control eroded away. She glanced up at him. His facial expression was nonchalant, but his eyebrows rose when he added, "Blanket on the couch was covered in their drool when I got back."

"Eww!" She faced forward again, trying to get the images out of her head. The highway had turned into a mountain road, and Steven patted her shoulder—in sympathy? Mockery? It felt like sympathy, but she didn't trust her interpretations of him anymore. They'd led her astray too many times.

The feelings he inspired in her, however, she trusted implicitly. They were unlike anything she'd ever experienced, sourced from reality rather than fantasy. But her body was unaccustomed to them. They contained a type of power she'd never processed before. That was why they'd hit her days after their kiss. She'd needed time to switch from direct current to alternating current.

But feelings weren't everything. God had a plan for her. She'd always believed that. Perhaps today was about learning forgiveness. If she could forgive Michael for all his transgressions, then she'd have the most gorgeous husband in the country. Because if they got back together, he would be proposing to her by his graduation. She'd accept nothing less.

"Yes, 'Eww,' Kelso," Fez said. "You should not kiss a woman with your saliva."

Jackie slouched in the chair, breaking contact with Steven's fingertips. Maybe God intended for her to be with Fez. He was considerate and romantic. He worshiped the ground she walked on, and he was the best dancer she'd ever known.

"Look, Kelso," Fez said, and she watched his reflection in the rearview mirror. His face was cute from certain angles, more so now that he'd gotten rid of his bangs. "Look at my tongue." Fez opened his mouth wide and pointed inside it. "Saliva should coat the tongue just enough to allow movement." He wiggled his tongue obscenely. "You want the lady to feel sensual and erotic, not like she's at a water park."

Nausea coated Jackie's throat. Fez had made a good point but in a revolting way. God couldn't want her to be with him. Otherwise, Fez wouldn't be foreign … unless she was supposed to alter her standards, to be charitable with her love, be self-sacrificing for the unfortunate.

She shut her eyes. Those were crazy thoughts, but were they more insane than thinking she had a chance with Steven? He wasn't here for her. He was here to mess with Michael. If anything, her presence made him sick—and he'd once told her to die. How could she love someone who despised her so much?

Because he'd protected her despite his hatred. Shown her compassion. Given her an opportunity to prove herself. Her mind, body, and soul marveled at the kind of boyfriend he'd be if he actually loved her. The possibilities were too exciting to let go of.

"Man, put your tongues back in your mouth!" Steven was scowling. Jackie saw it in the rearview mirror. Michael and Fez had their tongues out, moving them in the most unsexy way possible. "No chick wants to see that," Steven said, and his head angled slightly in Jackie's direction.

But was he really indicating her? His sunglasses concealed his eyes, and his reflection was too small for her to be sure of anything. The rearview mirror wasn't a crystal ball. It was a misleading piece of glass, not that God was being any clearer.

Maybe this trip was a lesson in not giving up, fighting battles that appeared unwinnable. She needed a clearer sign, and she clasped her hands together in prayer. If she were supposed to forget Steven Hyde, then God had to tell her—

"And we're here!" Michael said, disrupting her prayer. How could they be at their destination already? Time must have shot forward while she'd pondered her life's greatest mysteries.

Michael parked the van in front of a squalid-looking shack. A rusty oil barrel sat in the snow in front of it, and Jackie's mouth fell open. This was his uncle's fabulous, luxurious cabin?

She'd been wrong. This trip wasn't about her love life. It wasn't about romance at all. It was about surviving a day in an icy, dilapidated hell.