Warning: Un-beta'd: Read at your own risk.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: If That 70s Show belonged to me, season 8 would never have happened.

Valentine's Day

Of course her mother would pick the holiest of holiest to get married. For the third time. Jackie almost snorted thinking about the irony as she stood on the altar next to her mother. Bob, the groom, and her mother were under the heart shaped pink and red rose arch, beaming at each other. Jackie never thought she would feel like this on Valentine's Day, surrounded by such romantic symbolism, however, all she felt at the moment was a distinct feeling of nausea. Yuck.

At least today wasn't her birthday. Donna was up there with her, trying to mask disapproval with a smile that didn't fool anyone, looking hideous; the pink dress clashing horribly with her red hair. The unsuspecting Bob had come to visit with his daughter and ended up in Pam's perfectly manicured claws. Now instead of a birthday celebration, Donna was grinding her teeth, and praying some act of God would stop this horrendous union. Jackie was praying for it too.

She looked over at the audience; all assembled in pink dainty chairs in her Mom's backyard, as if someone had thrown up Pepto-Bismol all over the seats. Pink and red everywhere, from the centerpieces, to the napkins. It was over the top disgusting. Even more so when Jackie took into account that her divorce had been finalized only a month before. Pam wasn't known for her sensitivity or thoughtfulness, so here she was; newly minted divorcee swathed in pink from head to toe, maid of honor at her Mom's third go at marriage.

Someone caught her eye, Steven, clean shaven for once, holding up a beer in mock salute, Kelso next to him, flirting with another guest. It made her smile, made Donna actually chuckle behind her. It made her forget her misery for bit; enough to endure the ceremony and make it passed the "I Dos".

There were good memories here in Point Place, good friends. She felt a deep ache in her heart. Homesickess. Huh. Weird. She'd been living in California for five years, and so far, she had never looked back. She loved the beach, the weather and the people, and mostly she loved her work as a style consultant. Incidentally, it had been through her job that she had met her ex-husband. Ex, Ex, Ex, it sounded so gauche.

After smiling for the camera, mingling with the guests, some whom offered her fake sympathy and others who genuinely pitied her, Jackie couldn't take it anymore. She left the party in search of fresh air. Once outside, standing alone in the driveway, the tears started spilling. She didn't even know why. She tried to stop them, knowing her makeup was smearing, that it would be obvious she had been crying, but the more she tried to stop them the more they came.

"Jackie? Oh, man, are you ok?" Michael came over, wrapped her in her arms. "I love weddings," he said. "There's always a depressed chick feeling all vulnerable. Easy pickings," he said to someone behind him.

Jackie pushed him away. Sometimes the adorable knuckle head could just be a knuckle head. Michael had pretty much reverted to his old self after Brooke and he had split. She lowered her face, laughing and crying at the same time. Wondering when and how her life had turned so tragically comical.

"Oww, Hyde, what the hell!? Get your own crying chick."

"Just go, you moron."

"Fine!" Michael stomped away.

Jackie looked up at Hyde, saw him spread his arms and beckon with his fingers looking resigned. She took his offer, a rare gesture from him, burrowing into him, her head tucked under his chin. He embraced her gently. Why was it that the nicer people were the more she felt like crying?

"Hey, now come on, stop crying."

He rubbed her back tenderly wrenching a sob from her. "I only need a moment." His tie had been removed soon after the ceremony, leaving his crisp white shirt victim of her tears. "Thanks, Hyde."

"Jackie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm feeling a little raw. That's all. I'm fine, really."

"Your mother," he said, shaking his head, "Still hot as hell, but she's never going to win the mother of the year award."

She pulled away from him, "She's just-" shallow, inconsiderate, self-centered. Exactly what people said about her.

"I know what will make you feel better," he said with that smirk of his.

"You still do that?"

"Don't you?"

"Not in a long time."

"Well then, it's about damn time you were re-acquainted."

He took his tie out of his back pocket, presented it to her. "For your, um," he pointed at her face.

"Thanks." She took it, even thought the gesture made her want to burst into tears again. She cleaned the tears off and wiped her nose with it. "I'll get you another one," she said, going over to the trash and dumping it.

"Don't bother," he said, swinging his arm around her. "Come on."

Grooves was just as she remembered it, a cross between a thrift store and a dirty bar. Oddly, it felt quite comforting to be there. The posters had changed, hell, the milk crates with records had too, but at its core, it was the same Grooves she had helped lift off the ground. They were at the pit, a familiar scent engulfing them.

Jackie smiled goofily at Hyde. "You're sweet."

"Seriously, Jacks, you have to stop saying that to me."

"You're sweet. Very sweet. Like candy. Ooh, how many licks does it take to get to the soft gooey center of a Steven Pop." She burst into giggles. "Hmm... how about I give it a try?"

In Zen mode, Steven only smiled. "Babe, you're welcome to try it anytime."

"You know what's really sad?" She was staring off into space. "I don't think very many people know."

"Who? What?""

"That you're sweet."

"Seriously, Jackie, stop saying that."

"Saying what?"

Steven looked thoughtful for a moment. "I want a tootsie pop."

"Tootsie pop," She giggled the words out. "They remind me of someone."

"Probably Foreman."

And on it went.

The next morning she was woke up sore from having slept sitting up but otherwise felt fine from her foray back into her teenage years. Hyde was nowhere to be found, and she was just starting to suspect the previous night had been part of an elaborate burn when he came in through the back door.

"Morning, Sunshine." He was all smiles, freshly showered with his sunglasses glued back on.

"Ugh."

"Bathroom and shower through the back and up the stairs. Hurry up and I'll take you out for a nice breakfast," he spanked her softly as she passed. "And by that I mean I'll drive you over to the Forman's so Mrs. Forman can feed us."

Jackie looked over her shoulder, "Always the charmer."

"And might I remind you, you didn't even put out."

The stairs led her to an added room above the store. It was Spartan, and not in that cool classy designed way. Bed, tv, fridge, a small stove, magazines, a spindly table and a mismatched chair. Exactly as she would have figured Hyde's place would look like. At least it was clean. Sad, but clean.

The shower was tiny, the soap was subpar as was the shampoo, but the water felt glorious. She took her time, smiling at the scents swirling around her. It smelled like Hyde. She would smell like Hyde. It was an odd thought, stranger still that it would make her smile.

She dried off with the clean towel he had left for her, brushed her teeth with a new toothbrush she found in his medicine cabinet. And since she had already opened the cabinet, took a looksee. Aspirin, condoms, shaving cream, a razor. Nothing interesting. Somewhat disappointed, although she didn't know what she wanted to find, she made sure anything she had touched was put back in its place before donning on her pink bridesmaid dress again.

Hyde was waiting on the bed when she go out, "Find anything incriminating?"

"Nah, you've gotten boring."

"Whatever. Let's go, before the food runs out."

Last night she hadn't really noticed the car, but the El Camino was still in good shape. It was obvious it was well taken care of. Getting in, she couldn't hold back her laughter. The things Hyde had done to her in this car. The things she'd done to him! The fights, the angst, the tears. The Camino was a monument to her relationship with Hyde.

"What so funny?" Hyde asked.

"Old memories."

He glanced back, smirked. "Good memories," he stated smirking.

"Yeah," she smiled at him, reaching for the stereo, wanting to change the station, but her hand was slapped away.

"Remember the rules."

"I remember," she whined.

It was rock the whole drive, a thankfully a short drive before reaching Marie Drive. Hyde parked in Bob's driveway, now Donna's driveway. Her mom's house had been filled to the brim with guests and wedding stuff that it was decided Jackie would have to stay over at Donna's. She liked this house better anyway, despite how tacky it was, it felt like a home.

"You sure you don't want breakfast with the Formans? Mrs. Forman will make you happy face pancakes if you ask nicely."

"I'm sure," she said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. Déjà Vu: the rock music in the background, the stubble on his cheek, the vibration of the car, his wickedly smirking lips, the eyes hidden behind lenses. She snapped herself out of it before the kiss traveled from his cheek to his lips.

"Thanks. I mean it. I do feel better."

"Jackie," he said, pulling her back into the car by the wrist when she was about to step out. "You doing ok?"

"I'm fine. Really. I'm sad but ok. It's been a tough couple of months, that's all."

"You want me to kick his ass? I'll fly back to California with you so you can point him out from all the other corporate suits. They all look the same to me."

"You're sweet," she said, the words jugging something in her memory. "Tootsie Pop. You're like the center of a tootsie pop," she said, laughing.

"If anything, I'm a sour patch; painful but strangely addicting."

"Not to me you're not."

"Yeah, whatever. Get out already," he leaned over to open the door for her.

Jackie was still laughing when she went into the house. Hyde had been uncomfortable with the conversation. He had never liked her giving him gallant attributes that he thought he didn't deserve. Hyde always fought so hard to deny it. Maybe that's why their relationship had ended the way it did; she had expected too much from him, he refused to show any of what he perceived to be weaknesses. They had made their peace a while back, so there was no point in dissecting or assigning blame. They were good now.

There was a knock, and it was funny, because Jackie knew that knock. It was Hyde's knock, one heavy thump somehow filled with lazy contempt.

"You just can't get enough of me can you?" She opened the door, posed on the threshold, one arm on the doorway, another on her waist, giving him a flirty look beneath her lashes. She had the satisfaction of seeing his lips quirk.

"I forgot to give you something," he said, then leaned down to kiss her softly on the lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, Jackie. Have a safe trip."

Next up: Independence Day