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

CHAPTER ONE
TEMPORARY INSANITY

Hyde had minutes, maybe seconds, to call Jackie over. She was sitting at the Formans' kitchen table, across from Kelso. A couple of sophomore girls surrounded them, but Hyde made a beeline for the fridge. He had to play this sitch cool and nonchalant. Jackie wasn't alone, and their conversation had to be private.

Several beers were stashed in the fridge. Hyde could've drunk them all down, but he grabbed a Coke instead. Christmas season always screwed with his skull, and this year's had made him certifiably nuts. Donna was all he thought about. Forman had scored too many damn points with her lately, and she acted like Hyde wasn't an option—but that was his own fault. He hadn't shown her otherwise.

That was going to change.

He opened his Coke with the Formans' bottle opener as Fez passed behind him. Fez must've seen an opportunity here, too. Jackie's friends were just his type: breathing.

"Michael, I want you to drive me and my friends around on Christmas Eve," Jackie said, and Hyde went to the counter opposite the table, giving him a perfect vantage point.

"Why?" Kelso said.

"To distribute gift baskets to the less fortunate bums."

Hyde swallowed a laugh with Coke. Unlike yesterday, Jackie dropped the pretense. Her disdain for people like him sucked, no matter the words she used, but at least today she spoke honestly. And in his case, the contempt was mutual.

"Okay," Kelso said, "but we better be back in time for the party."

Fez crept up behind the shortest of Jackie's friends. He was clearly about to make his move, and he said, "Yes. Perhaps you lovely ladies would like to join us?"

"I don't think so," the short girl said.

The chick beside her, a hot blonde in a fur-lined coat, gave him the side-eye. "Well, we are supposed to be helping the less fortunate."

"Okay," the tallest of Jackie's friends said, and that seemed to seal the choice. Jackie's snobby posse would attend the Formans' Christmas party.

Kelso left through the patio door without kissing Jackie goodbye. Fez was free to flirt with her, like he usually did when Kelso wasn't around. But he focused on her friends, and Jackie strode to the fridge, boots clacking on the floor.

Hyde's heart pounded faster than he expected. An opportunity had cropped up, but he didn't do big gestures, buy fancy gifts, or say pretty words. Mostly because he couldn't. His body rebelled against spectacle; his throat jailed any sentimentality. His lack of an allowance and job kept him poor. But he'd managed to swipe six bucks out of his ma's purse this month without her noticing. Whatever he bought Donna with it had to speak for him.

Jackie took a Coke from the fridge, and he pulled his own Coke from his mouth. "Hey, Jackie," he said, "come here."

She stared at him. "Why?"

"Just come here!" This was fucking hard enough without her suspicion of him.

She left her Coke on the counter, and his adrenaline kicked up another notch. The faint scent of pork and butter saturated his nose. It was the Formans' dinner from an hour ago, and his stomach grumbled. He could deal with his hunger, but Jackie's bright outfit stung his eyes, even with his shades on In her red coat, green turtleneck, and crimson skirt, she resembled a Christmas ornament.

"Hyde," she said and stood in front of him, "if you want to make out with me, the answer's probably yes."

He flinched, feeling like she'd rammed a fork through his brain. What she'd said made no sense, and his gaze fixed on her face as he tried to work it out. She gazed back without scorn, as if expecting a response.

He had none. If she'd said the answer was probably no, it would've been easy. A blunt answer to break the delusion that all guys wanted her. But she'd said probably yes. To him.

"Well, okay." That had to be enough to sweep her proposition aside. She and Kelso had been together four months, despite Kelso's constant complaints about her. Whatever was going through her Barbie-Dreamhouse head, Hyde wouldn't be part of it, but she crossed her arms over her chest and continued to look at him.

Crap.

He reached past her and put his Coke on the stovetop. Only way to deal with this insanity was ignore it. "Look, Jackie, I know this girl, right? And I wanna get her a Christmas present."

She smiled, ending her unnerving focus on him. "Oh, my God—it's Donna!"

Blood heated his neck, but he smiled back tensely. Donna was oblivious to his feelings. No way she'd told Jackie about them. "It's not Donna."

"Okay, it's not Donna," she said, sounding unconvinced. "How much do you have to spend?"

"Six dollars."

Her arms fell to her sides, and she squared her shoulders. "You don't deserve a girl like Donna for six dollars!"

"I'm not trying to get Donna!"

"Good 'cause you won't for six dollars!"

Jackie's protectiveness of Donna loomed over him, casting a shadow of doubt. He scratched his cheek and glanced away. Donna wasn't officially Forman's girlfriend, but she'd confided in Hyde more than once about her feelings. She had a thing for the scrawny little neighbor boy—his best friend. Six bucks wouldn't change that.

Hyde reclaimed his Coke from the stovetop. His arm slid against Jackie's in the process, but she didn't recoil. She remained standing in front of him, a sentry between Donna and his dying intentions. She seemed, yet again, to expect a profound response from him. But he sipped his pop and weighed the facts.

Jackie had revealed an impure interest in him tonight, his favorite kind. Every other week, Kelso planned to kill their relationship. In four days or four more months, it was go-nowhere doomed. Speeding up that process would do both Kelso and Jackie a favor.

Plus, she was hot and cared about Donna. But she was also Jackie, a huge minus. Still, Donna would never want him the way he wanted her. That was the biggest goddamn minus of them all, nullifying all other minuses.

"If the answer goes from probably to definitely," he said, "come find me in the basement."

Jackie's face flushed as Hyde disappeared down the basement stairs. Her physical attraction to him was wrong. It had gotten the better of her, but he was so scruffy and masculine, and the idea of kissing him was a complete turn-on.

Especially since Michael kissed like a middle schooler.

No amount of instruction or criticism helped. His body moved like a malfunctioning wind-up doll. He barely listened when she talked. Pestered her constantly to have sex, but making love with him would be terrible. Their intimate time together left her chronically dissatisfied,.but maybe that was her fault.

She returned to the counter by the fridge. Her bottle Coke sat there, unopened, and she pressed it against her heated cheeks. The basement stairs were only a few away. All she had to do was climb down them, and she'd learn if the problem was herself or Michael.

She licked her lips. Her mouth was dry, but drinking the Coke might make her belchy. She put it back in the fridge. Fez had her friends' attention. She could sneak away unnoticed, without explanation, and she hurried downstairs.

Hyde was sitting on Eric's duct-taped couch and drinking his Coke. The TV was off, but a song with a sad melody played from the record player. Jackie couldn't name it or the band, but the song was too poetic to be entirely gloomy.

Hyde didn't seem to agree. He was staring into nothing, like he'd lost his favorite clod of dirt. She sat beside him, but he didn't acknowledge her. He continued drinking.

His sweater was too big. Its sleeves bunched at his elbows, but the shape of his body stood out anyway. It had substance, more than just bone but muscle. His biceps were hard to miss whenever he wore short-sleeved shirts.

She cupped his knee, and her heart beat so loudly she could barely think. "The answer's yes."

His sunglasses were on the wooden spool table. The basement's aluminum Christmas tree reflected in the lenses, and he looked at her as if they'd never met. She removed her coat, hoping that would prompt him to make the first move.

It didn't.

"Definitely yes, okay?" She plucked his Coke bottle from his hand and set it beside his sunglasses. "Okay?"she repeated.

His eyes widened slightly. She inched closer to him on the couch until their arms were touching. Sparks danced along her spine.

He smiled the barest of smiles, and she prayed he knew how to kiss before his lips brushed against hers. She opened her mouth wider. His moved in deeper, but as the sensation of him spread through her skin, he withdrew.

"What?" she said.

"Don't we kind of hate each other?"

"So?" Hate and love were meaningless right now. She just wanted to French him.

He cradled her cheek, like her answer was the most logical one in the world. His fingers were warmer than she anticipated. Softer, but she braced for rejection. He could be playing a trick, setting her up for a big burn, but their next kiss started where the last left off.

She tried to direct it. Michael's syncopated chaos made her guidance a requirement, but Hyde had his own rhythm. She caught on and pressed her palm against the side of his face, enjoying the movement of his jaw. His hand glided to the back of her head, and her body became electric.

This was the excitement she'd been missing. Michael was plainly the problem, not her, but Hyde withdrew again.

She inhaled loudly through her nose. "What now?"

"When do you turn sixteen?"

"Really?" Her coat dangled off the spool table, and she gripped the edge of it. "My sweet sixteen was the bash of the year, remember? It was September twenty-fourth. Duh."

He draped his arm over the top of the couch. "I don't remember 'cause I wasn't invited."

"You weren't?" She went through her memory of the party, of all the happy faces. Hyde's wasn't among them. "Right. Sorry."

"Huh."

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

His palms skimmed her cheeks and warmed her ears. Their mouths met, and she pulled herself closer to him. She needed to be closer, like she'd been freezing and was finally by a crackling fire.

The next time they parted, it was mutual. His hands landed on her waist, and he gazed at her with thoughts she hungered to hear. Maybe he was waiting for her to talk, but her mind swirled with what she'd just done. What she and Hyde had done.

"Well," he said with a grin, "that was a nice start."

"S-start?" She was shaking, and the tremor had vibrated into her voice.

"Unless you wanna call it quits."

"No." She buried her trembling fingers into his hair, mostly to hide how much he'd affected her, and drew him in for another kiss.

Curiosity had led Hyde down a dangerous road. Kissing Jackie was putting scary thoughts in his head, but his body didn't give a shit. It wanted more.

She matched his every move, even challenged him. He was only ten months older than her, so age wasn't an issue, but where they might be headed … "This working for you?" he said.

"Huh?"

He patted her leg, attempting to snap her out of make-out stupor. But her flushed lips and cheeks sent his remaining blood south. "Us doin' this," he said and sat back from her. "Don't wanna push you more than—"

Her dazed eyes narrowed with focus. She grasped his shoulders, scooted herself onto his lap, and pressed her lips to his.

That had to be a definite yes, but she was bound to feel his hard-on. For safety's sake, he adjusted her position on his lap then let himself go. Her apple-scented shampoo soaked into his nostrils. Her turtleneck nuzzled his chin, and her stroking fingers soothed his skull. He'd been so fixated on Donna the last few months he forgot how nice meaningless make-outs were.

"Wow," Jackie said after pulling away. She stayed on his lap, though, and looped her arms around his neck. "I thought you might be a good kisser because you're cool like the Fonz, and he—"

"James Dean, man." He drummed his fingers on the small of her back. "If we gotta go with someone who wears a leather jacket, go with Dean. Not the freakin' Fonz."

"What's wrong with the Fonz?"

"He's a pair of sideburns away from being as lame as disco."

"But you have sideburns."

"And I'm way less lame than disco."

"Disco isn't..." She heaved out a breath. "At least you can dance to it."

"Still lame."

"But you can dance to it."

He clenched his jaw. This was one reason he and Forman hounded Kelso daily to ditch her. She couldn't accept other people's opinions. "Who the hell cares?"

"You're a good dancer." Her arms slipped from his neck, and her shoulders hunched. "That's all."

Shit. She'd seen him dance at the Kenosha disco six weeks ago. He'd mistaken her observation for tyranny, and he rubbed his jaw. Receiving and giving out compliments weren't skills he had. "And you're a good..."

"Kisser?" she said.

"I haven't puked."

She grimaced and slapped his chest. "I mean it. Do you think I'm a good kisser?"

"Look at where you're sitting."

She glanced down at herself, still on his lap, and let out a small laugh. "How'd I get here?"

"Yeah, it's embarrassing," he said and tapped her back playfully. "You gonna tell me why you wanted to fool around with me?"

"No, you wanted to make out with me."

He squinted at her. "You're the one who came up with the idea."

"Because I thought that's what you were going to ask me in the kitchen."

She was clearly as confused as he was, but they had almost no experience talking to each other. Whenever she hung around his group, she insulted him. He burned her, and that was the sum of their interaction. But guessing games wouldn't work. He had to find out if they'd both become assholes tonight and why.

"What's goin' on with you and Kelso?" he said.

"What about you and Donna?"

"There is no me and Donna."

She checked her watch. "I have to go home soon to—"

"Prepare gift baskets for the 'less fortunate bums'?"

"Yeah. So—" she touched his lips with her fingers—"one last kiss before we swear never to say a word to anyone about this?"

He burrowed his hand in her hair. She was being cagey about her motives, but that was probably for the best. "Sure."

Getting over Donna would hurt. It already did, but Jackie's mouth was some kind of drug. Kissing her gave him a high he might not find elsewhere. Not until he'd gone through dozens of other girls and became sick to his stomach.

When her lips pulled free from his, his whole face was buzzing. "That was a nice end," he said, ready to let her go. Kelso would kill him for tonight, but Kelso wasn't going to learn about it.

"Who said I was done? I was just catching my breath."

"If that's how you wanna spin it..."

"It is."

She palmed his over-sensitive cheek and entered his mouth deeply. His body pleaded with him to go further, but he wouldn't do that to her—or himself. He hadn't enjoyed kissing, just kissing, anyone like this in too damn long, but a shout splintered his euphoria.

It wasn't from Jackie. Forman and Donna were gaping at them from the basement stairs, and Jackie yanked Hyde's sweater so hard he jerked toward her.

"I'm blind!" Forman yelled and clutched the wooden bannister. Donna was gripping his wrist, and Hyde's shoulders slumped. He and Jackie had been caught.