AN: Hello! This is my first That 70s Show fanfic, and I am very excited! I uploaded it a few days ago, and it changed to HTML and then I couldn't log on for stupid reasons, so I apologize greatly! I'm not sure what the schedule for this fic will be, but you know how it goes. I'm kinda trying to kick writer's block, so hopefully I can do that. Well, if you enjoyed this, I would absolutely love a review to know what your thoughts were and if I should continue. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Stacy tugged at her dark blonde locks, glaring at her reflection in the mirror. She patted her crown, hoping to flatten the frizz that was brought on by the humidity of the previous week's rainstorm. Her hand slid down the rest of her wild curls, not holding a single strand into her desired smaller circumference. Her sister, Stephanie, never had this problem. Her hair was more manageable, only reaching her shoulders and not tightly coiling her naturally wavy hair. Stephanie used to have the same curls as her sister, but she outgrew them by middle school.

They had been adorable, though. Tight ringlets making them look like devilish Shirley Temples. Gaining them nicknames like "Point Place's Sweethearts," "Curly Tops," and their personal favorite "The Little Princesses." That was a cute look for a couple of five-year-olds, but once you hit your teen years (and perms went out of style), all that was left was an annoying rat's nest glued to your head.

Stacy knew with her hair the way it was, she could not go out today. Especially not when Stephanie shuffled half asleep into their bathroom; her hair damn near perfect despite just rolling out of bed. Stacy normally wasn't jealous of her sister; they were pretty much best friends. But when it came to their hair, she would kill to have the low maintenance type like her sister.

"Stephie?" Stacy huffed when Stephanie began brushing her teeth. "Can you help me straighten my hair?"

Stephanie grunted, rubbing her hand underneath her glasses to shake the blurriness from her vision. "Whatever."

Stacy smiled, glancing at the clock. If they started now, her hair could be tamed in about 40 minutes. This must have been what their mom meant when she explained the importance of a morning routine back when she had given them make up for their 13th birthday. Stacy already knew their mother had been in and out of the shower by 6:30, far earlier than needed for an 8:30 church service.

Although if they were honest, Stacy was the one who spent the most time primping in the mornings. When they were little and practically living at their grandparents' house, Stephanie had been out in the garage or playing catch with their grandpa while Stacy played beautician with Uncle Fez and their grandma. The difference still showed with Stacy's willingness to spend time "painting her face," as Steph put it, and Stephanie's later sleeping habits.

Surprisingly today, Steph had actually gotten up with her alarm clock, and was oddly happy to help her sister. Though despite her thoughtfulness, it was still early, and neither girls spoke much. Stephanie got to work trying to flatten some of the curliest hair she had ever seen, all the while humming "In the Air Tonight."

After what felt like an eternity, Stephanie pulled the plug on the straightening iron. She ran a brush through her own hair, thankful that she had gotten dressed before stepping into the warzone that was their shared bathroom. If she hadn't, they would have been late for church. And today was not a good day for them to be late for church.

"Stace, you look nice," their mother commented when they exited the bathroom. The girls stared slightly; their mother had put more effort than normal into her Sunday best. "Do you that your grandma will be ok with it?"

Stacy rolled her eyes. "Grandma can deal with a new hairstyle for one day."

"But on her anniversary?" Stephanie put in. It hadn't crossed her mind to question her sister in her half-asleep state. Everyone knew how much their grandma adored their curls as little girls. And since Stephanie's hair had straightened itself out, she had been especially keen towards Stacy's ringlets.

"She'll be fine. I'll stop by tomorrow after school once I've washed it out." Stacy pushed past the two, heading downstairs for the car. Stephanie shared a look with her mother, who rolled her colorful eyes. Neither of the teenage girls were pleasant in the mornings.

Stacy was pouring coffee into a travel mug when they met again in the kitchen. Coffee was a godsend for the three of them, and the fact that any of them could put together a coherent sentence was a Sunday miracle. Not like stringing words together in a grammatical fashion on the way to church. The only sound heard from the car before the caffeine kicked in was the music from the radio or whatever cassette one of the girls popped in.

The three waltzed into the church, a spring in each of their steps from the added energy of the coffee.

"Jackie!" Someone yelled over the noise of the crowd. Their mother turned at the sound of her name, Stacy and Stephanie trailing behind. Donna was beckoning them toward her and the rest of the family.

"Donna, wow," Jackie nodded appreciatively. "This is most definitely your Sunday best. Given the total lack of plaid and flannel." Their mother was the queen of backhanded compliments.

"Flannel's in style now, Jackie," Donna pointed out, trying not to get annoyed with her best friend. Jackie waved her off, her attention now captured by a distinct laugh that everyone knew all too well. Her daughters smiled brightly at the fast-approaching couple, but Jackie could only stare at the guest accompanying them.

"Oh, Stacy, you straightened your hair," Kitty acknowledged, her tone somewhat disappointed. Stacy nodded her head, and Stephanie rolled her eyes. "Does, doesn't that damage it? All that heat? How long does it normally take?"

"It only takes about 40 minutes, Grandma," Stacy responded. Was her hair really that big of a deal? "And don't worry about the heat. Uncle Fez gave me some heat resistant stuff. I had Steph spray that on my hair first."

Kitty still didn't look assured but remained silent for once in her life. Red let out an annoyed huff at the awkward silence that fell on the group to which Kitty laughed in response.

"Oh my gosh, Hyde!" Eric came up behind his parents to see his childhood best friend. "What are you doing in a church?"

The girls' attention was brought to the stranger whom they had never seen before. Behind them, they heard their mother's sharp breath.

"She cried, man," the man known as Hyde responded. "Can't say no to your mom when she cries, or on her anniversary."

"Just wasn't expecting to see you until lunch," Eric said.

"I also wanted to see if Pastor Dave was still 'hip with the kids.'" The two men shared a knowing laugh. Stephanie snorted loudly, flinching when she felt her mother's palm on her shoulder.

"I don't think Pastor Dave was hip with the kids when he was a kid," she joked. Steph always had a way of getting into conversations; she loved attention.

"'Member when he told us to pray for Kurt Cobain?" Stacy added, pointing at her sister. Jackie laughed loudly behind them, drawing all attention away from her daughters and to herself.

At the sight of the woman, Hyde stepped around the Formans, and his smile fell into a grimace.

"Jackie," he nodded curtly. It was strange to see him nearly twenty years after their last encounter in a hotel room in Chicago. He still wore his shades even though it was a cloudy day.

"Steven," she said just as coolly. She tried to remember the lessons he had given her on "Zen," but she had never been good at keeping her emotions in check. Especially around him or her daughters.

"Well, isn't this nice!" Kitty interrupted their staring contest. "Oh look, the service is about to start."

Jackie sat beside Donna in the pew, trying to make as much space between her and Hyde as possible. Though really, the distance didn't matter. He had been far away for nearly twenty years. But each time she caught a glimpse of him seated next to Mrs. Forman at the complete other end of the pew, she felt flush—not from the humidity. She just wanted to slap him. Even more when she felt his eyes on her during the prayer.

Who was he to come back for the first time since ditching her at that hotel in Chicago? He didn't have the right to look at her! Or be at her church, with her family, standing around her nieces and nephews, her daughters. Oh, dear Lord. Her daughters!

Jackie stole a glance at the two girls sitting beside her. Never in her life had Jackie been more thankful that her vanity had been inherited by Stacy. The curls that Mrs. Forman loved so much, gone for the next few days. Maybe longer if Jackie could convince the teen. By then, Hyde would be long gone, and life would go back to normal. Her family would be none the wiser.

But the pointed looks she was earning from Red and Eric were really bursting her bubble. She glared at Eric as if imagining rays going through his skull. He only smirked more evil-like, and Red looked as sympathetic as he could (so just less miffed). Eric chuckled at her, pointing in a joking manner. Jackie stomped her high heel heavily against the stone floor. All eyes and heads turned her way.

Her eyes widened, and she stomped again. "Hallelujah. Amen!" she whooped. Eric only smiled more as he turned back to watching the pastor.

She was definitely going to need to have a talk with him after the service. And by talk, she meant smack-down.