Disclaimer: I don't own a thing, yadda, yadda, yadda. If I did I'd be rich and living in Maui… or Canada. But I don't. I do own the poem type thing at the beginning of the story though. I take credit for that.

Author's notes: ITIARW will be updated and finished by the end of the weekend or by the beginning of next week. This was just some drabble I came up with, that was sad, yes, but very sweet in my opinion. I'm sorry, I have strengths with the angst. It's post the series, and it has J/H in it. I'll let you in on a secret it might surprise you in the end and the beginning of the story concentrates on the events of season eight rather then the events that have occurred, in the story, a year after season eight. don't read too, too much into it. I hope you enjoy, Reviews, criticisms, presents, all are welcomed. I know I need a Beta, I understand this, and I'm looking for one. ANYONE you would like to Beta for me, I'd love the opportunity to talk to you about it. EMAIL/REVIEW it's all rainbows to me ;). ENJOY! Happy Readings!

---

I watched my captain sail low and high

With a piercing smile and a watchful eye

He told me stories of wondrous things

Like fiery goddesses and noble kings

My captain steered his faithful ship

Through treacherous seas and maiden's lips

And after all was said and done

And nothing seemed to work or run

I questioned him about that and this

And how he'd never love thy lady's kiss

He'd simply smile and tilt his head

And respond while eating his wine and bread,

"The sea is my lover, and I her slave,

I must never love another and stay lonely as her waves."

---

February 14th, 1981

The sun was barely over the horizon, gleams of light shimmered across the waves as they crashed along the shore line. Sounds of the breeze and the water were the only things echoing across the beach. There was only him, the dawn breaking, and the waves crashing.

He lifted the half drunk bottle of beer to his lips, the soles of his bare feet dug into the chilled sand. His jeans were covering his ankles and the salty breeze fought against his hooded sweatshirt. To his left was the imprint of the bottom of his beer bottle and several burnt out cigarettes. His sunglasses, which had been discarded as he stared into the dark abyss of the ocean an hour ago, laid haphazardly at his feet.

There was something mystical about sitting at the shore line, staring out into something as massive as the ocean. It was something new to him. He had only been to the beach one time prior to this. Sure there were the summer camps where he and Eric would go up to the great lakes, and the few fishing trips he had gone on with Kelso and his family, but all of it paled in comparison to the ocean he had been staring at for several days.

The dirty, yellow colored bottle found itself nestled back into the sand. Thoughts of home and everything he had left behind played across his brain like a slideshow. He had convinced Mrs. Forman and Donna that he was only going to be gone for a week, maybe a day or two more. He had convinced himself that all he needed was a week. Time to get away from everything. From his job, his friends, his father, his surrogate parents, and especially from her.

She had plagued his mind for much too long. And it had only gotten that much worse with each new day.

He knew that everything was his fault. Their break-up, the Kelso incident, the Sam incident, the Fez massacre, and anything that had happened afterwards; everything was in fact his fault. He wanted to blame some of it (if not all of it) on her, but it just didn't seem fair to do that. Actually, with the turn of events that had recently occurred, it was quite possible he could dump everything on her.

There was simply no reason to further make himself out to be a scumbag though.

Roses quickly filled the air and he resisted the urge to hang his head. He never got any time to himself anymore. Even when he tried to escape, simply to get away from her, she knew exactly where to find him.

"What are you doing out here?" Her voice was so soft and tender against the roar of the ocean, it was almost hard to make sense of her words.

"I could ask the same of you." He looked at her, taking in her sweet face and raven hair. Her eyes were opened brightly, sparkling in the early rays of sunshine. She was wearing white pants with a white turtleneck, which only further accented her olive skin. "How'd you find me?"

She shrugged, leaning her hands back, palms to the cool sand. "It's easy when I know you so well." She took a deep breath, breathing in the salty air. "You were always so jealous that Eric, Donna, and Michael got to come out here."

"They ran away to here."

She turned and gave him a withered expression. "As opposed to what you're doing?" A coy like smile appeared over her plush lips, her head moving to focus back over the ocean. "Looks to me as if you ran away too."

He scoffed, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket and shoving it between his lips. "I'm vacationing."

Silence filled the space between them as he lit his cigarette, taking a long drag from it. She, in all her white glory, was staring out into the ocean, her lips moving with each wave, counting them as they moved across the surface, only to fall to their knees at the beach's feet.

"Why are you at the beach so early? It's barely seven." Her voice startled him out of his trance. He took the opportunity to take another drag of the cigarette. "Actually, why are you even at the beach to begin with? You hate the beach."

He savored his cigarette and after a beat shrugged. "You love the beach. You've always loved the beach."

"This is true." Green/blue eyes met with blue eyes and a smile formed over her lips. "That still doesn't explain why you are at the beach."

"Maybe I thought I'd find you here." He smiled, his eyes memorizing every detail of her face. "Maybe I was waiting for you."

Laughter bounced across her face, her eyes sparkling brightly. She nodded her head, her giggles chiming against the rhythmic sounds of the waves. "Maybe." Her body twisted from looking at him to focusing over the ocean in front of them. She leaned back on her palms. "It really makes everything seem insignificant, you know? It's like nothing even matters."

Blue eyes, that had been taking her in, memorizing every whim and every tiny movement that fluttered across her features, moved to stare at the vast abyss of water.

"Puts things into perspective."

"I wouldn't go that far."

She looked at him, a slight glare across her brow. She made a small indignant noise. "You and your jaded, nonchalant pride."

"This has nothing to do with pride," he sneered. "Thank you very much."

"Then what does it have to do with then?"

He turned his head sharply. She was sitting with her knees drawn and her arms wrapped securely around them. Control was radiating from her body, he knew she would not budge, not even to gaze at his reaction.

"Did you come all the way down here to annoy me?" He sighed. "Because I really just wanted some peace and quiet."

"Do you want me to leave?" Her voice dropped several decibels. It was hard, once again, to hear her over the ocean.

A silence enveloped them. She didn't move and he refused to speak. Gently he took the cigarette from his lips, after a final drag, and violently shoved it into the sand. His hand then found the chilled bottle of his beer and brought it to his lips. There was once a time when a cigarette and a bottle of beer could solve his problems. Not any more however. Not any more.

"No." His voice sounded foreign to his own ears. "I don't want you to leave."

"That's what I thought." A smile broke out across her face and she slid closer to him. "Why don't you like the beach?"

He looked at her and a gentleness that had not been shown very often seemed to take over his brain. He sighed and began digging in his pocket for another cigarette. "Because the sand gets everywhere, and in the afternoon, with all those people, it's annoying and loud." He shook his head dismissively, holding the cigarette with his lips as he tried to shield his lighter. There was a clap from a wave hitting the sand roughly. Both of them looked towards the noise. He was the first to recovered, pulling the cigarette from his lips with his two fingers, watching as a trail of smoke flowed from his lips. "I feel insignificant all on my own. I don't need the ocean to make me feel even more unimportant."

"You're such a pity party."

He rolled his eyes, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. "This is why talking to you is over-rated."

Her laugh chimed in his ears, and it was hard to hold back his smile. It was hard not to be taken in by her presence. As it always had been

Maybe he wasn't trying to escape from her. Maybe he was trying to escape too her. It was more logical then anything else he had come up with. It was the first time in forever that they could sit and have a decent conversation. It was sad that he had to come all the way to California, under the impression that he was going to leave her behind in Wisconsin, to come to this revelation.

The taste of his cigarette invigorated his jaded taste buds. With a deep inhale he turned to her, their eyes crashing like a head on collision.

"I've really missed you." He was so bad at confessions that he was terrified at her reaction. The look that washed across her face put his nerves to ease.

"I miss you too."

"I was," his lips hung open, and after several seconds he quickly shoved his cigarette into his mouth. "I was so stupid."

"We both were." She started to shrug, but her shoulders suddenly looked too heavy for her. "But it's ok now."

Was it really ok? He had spent night after night after night trying to bring her back to him. He had gone over everything he had done and said that was wrong. And now, because of what all of it was now, it was ok? The tears that he made her cry. The pain he put her through. The days that were unbearable and the nights that were too hard to handle. It was all ok? He would give anything for one more chance. Something, anything, just to give her what she deserved.

"I'm so," he made a face, his head dropping so that his chin hit his chest. The words hung in his throat with nothing but a want to say them.

"I know you are." Piercing blue eyes stared at the face of his doll, his angel. "And I forgive you."

"How on earth could you forgive me?" His face was dead set in stone as a playful expression dance across her features.

"Because," she tilted her head to one side and then to the other. "Because it's over now. And we never have to think about it again. I want you to never think about it again."

"How do you expect me to never think about it again?" He shook his head, a new wave of guilt and pain ripped across his chest callously. "I love you. I love you and that has to be enough."

Her smile morphed from one of amusement to one of sorrow. A sigh echoed across the beach, deafening the waves and turning his stomach. "It's more then enough, puddin' pop. But, you have to remember that it's over. You have to realize that it's all over now. And you have to move on, you have to stop living in this little shell of yours."

"I want to take it all back though." He mumbled, shifting to look forward instead at her. "Tell me that we can just start over."

She sighed, aware her words were being ignored. "You know we can't. You know I'm here for us to say good bye."

"But you don't have to go, Jackie!" His blue eyes were wide, his hands flew in the air as he flick his cigarette into the sandy abyss around him. "You can just stay here. With me. We'll stay here, together, period."

He knew his words were crazy. And a part of him was slowly breaking as her face twisted into a look of apologies and tears.

He hadn't escaped to get away from her. Nor had he escaped to find her. He hadn't escaped at all. He had gone away from home, from his friends, from everything, not to forget or to find something, but to mourn. His regrets, his missed opportunities, his sorrow, everything needed to be mourned.

There was no going back after this.

"Steven," A break in her voice made him instantly regret his proclamation of wanting her to stay with him. Not because it had hurt her or it was crazy, but because it was impossible. He had lost her for good this time. "You know if I could, I would never leave your side."

There was a pause in their discussion and his hand ran through his hair. He sighed and turned his head, the sun finally appearing brightly over the horizon.

"Marry me?" His voice was full of amusement and as her laugh chimed against the waves, against the callous beat of his heart, he realized that he would never forget her laugh, her voice, or the way she looked in that moment.

And it was funny because he thought he would have. Given enough time and enough alcohol beverages.

"I need to leave." He turned completely away from her, drawing his knees up, his hands running the course of his face.

"Bye doll." He twisted his head slightly, watching as a huge smile spread across her porcelain face.

"Bye puddin' pop."

He shifted to look back at the calm waters that started at the horizon, dance across the plane of ocean, and then crash, as it were, violently against the glittering sand. And it was in that moment that he realized that she hadn't cried. There were no tears, no sobs, nothing. And as he placed his face to his knees, his head started to ache as an onslaught of emotion poured through his body. With the same amount of time it took for the waves to slam down, simply to be brought back into the sea, Steven Hyde cried.

He cried for the would haves, the could haves, and the never will be's, and he cried for the loneliness she had left in his heart. He mourned the fact that it was over.

---

Eric sat in the kitchen, drumming his fingers against the table. He was staring off into space, his posture disregarded as he slumped in his father's usual seat. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway and the shutting of a door, made him shift to watch as the slider opened and closed. His best friend standing with a heavy coat and his sunglasses.

"I thought you were going to be gone for a week, and then some." Eric's voice was void of jokes, amusement, or sarcasm. It was almost monotone.

Hyde started to shake his head but stopped. He walked over to the high top, leaning against the counter. "I realized I was being stupid. I have responsibilities."

"You're allowed to grieve Hyde. It's been three months. You'd grieve longer for a dog." Eric looked at his friend and then down at the table.

"Donna was mad?" He started to unshed his coat, adjusting himself to the warmth of the kitchen.

"Nah, she was ok. She had Kinsley to keep her occupied." A small smirk passed over Eric's face. "The child is a real spit fire."

Hyde mirrored Eric's smirk. He looked at his watch, and then the kitchen door. "She's still sleeping, right?"

"Last I checked. Mom and Donna went to go get some food. Red was out in the garage," Eric turned toward the slider. "He might have come in though."

"Saturday was her conception date." Hyde smirked, moving towards the kitchen table, sitting himself in his usual seat. "Jackie wanted that kid more then life itself."

Eric nodded his head slowly. He cleared his throat, trying to smile. "I think you should just concentrate on some lucky star, that Jackie gave you a, what, fifth chance."

Hyde playfully shoved Eric. "I think Kinsley is the fourth chance."

The skinny man shrugged and then smiled, standing up. He patted Hyde on the shoulder. "You think you'll be ok? You've been a mess since Kinsley was born. Since, you know, with Jackie--"

Hyde nodded his head. "I think I finally came to terms with everything, you know. I never got proper closure with Jackie about the past."

"And did you get closure?" Eric sounded skeptical.

Hyde looked up from the table and images of Jackie sitting in the sand, laughing and smiling, not a single tear across her beautiful face, rippled across his brain.

"Yeah, I got closure." Eric looked at his friend, but simply nodded. He gestured towards the garage and then wordlessly headed out of the slider.

Hyde sat for a few seconds, before pushing his chair back and jumping up, making his way through the kitchen, past the living room, and up the stairs. He came to the second door on the left and gently pushed it open.

The mild scent of lavender and rose intoxicated his senses. The window to the right was open a pinch, as the white crib stood tall against the back wall. Toys, clothes, and books were scattered across his three month old daughter's room.

Making his way to the crib he paused and stared at a picture taken the previous summer. It was of him and Jackie, standing against a pristine white limo. She was wearing a white sundress that curved over her swollen stomach, her black hair down in waves and curls. He stood next to her in casual black pants and a white button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was without his infamous shades. They were both smiling brightly, beautifully.

A gurgle and the squirm of the tiny infant drew him from his daze.

"What's wrong princess?" He leaned over the railings and gently held her too him.

Bright blue eyes, the color of clear, blue waters, stared at him, taking him in. Her black hair, thick and full, even from birth, was curling wildly in a small afro of sorts. She was wearing a pink fuzzy suit, her tiny fingers reaching up to try and touch his face.

"I see grandma has been putting on all your new clothes." With his free hand he grabbed his sunglasses, tossing them to the carpet. "Guess what? Daddy talked to papa W.B. and we're gonna move out of grandma and grandpa's house. I think it's time, right?" A gurgle erupted from the tiny child. "I thought so. Grandpa is going to be so happy."

Kinsley gurgled again, writhing in her fathers arms. Hyde looked over to the shelf and moved to take his wedding photo down. He held it up over Kinsley's face, making her instantly calm down.

"That's mommy. She was a brave woman who told everyone that she didn't care what happened to her as long as you were ok." He swallowed the emotion that was rising in his chest. "She wanted you more then anything in the world. And one day you'll see her again. But don't worry, she's going to be with you every step of the way. You're lucky, you see, you have me and lots of people who love you."

Hyde placed the picture down and stared at his daughter. She stared back at him and puffed out her cheeks, a tiny smile echoing across her face.

"Now, let's just get one thing straight, ok, if your Uncle Kelso has any boys, you're not allowed to date them, ever, ok?"

A gurgle chimed across the room and Hyde laughed.

"And just so you know, we're going to spend our summers at the beach, all the way in California. Because your mom loved the beach. And that's where we're always gonna find her."

Kinsley let out a puff of air, her hands moving, as if she was playing with something. Hyde look up and around the room, his eyes settling back to stare as Kinsley moved animatedly.

"Told ya," Hyde winked. "Mommy's always going to be around."